"Voldemort's brain trust? Planned last night's attack?!"
Barty Crouch was stunned for half a second, and his calm expression disappeared instantly.
He suddenly stood up, walked quickly to the iron railing, and stared directly into Scrimgeour's angry eyes.
"What are you talking about? Rufus-Voldemort, this is impossible, absolutely impossible! Until yesterday, little Barty has been controlled at home by me using the Imperius Curse. There is no way that he has anything to do with the attack last night.
What does it matter, what are you talking about, what is going on?!"
Ever since he tried to "replace" his son from Azkaban ten years ago, he had been convinced that he had everything under control.
Even during the raid by Scrimgeour and others, Crouch thought the problem was with him.
"The Soul-stealing Curse? Is this how you hid before? Haha——"
Rufus Scrimgeour raised his eyebrows, a trace of doubt flashed in his eyes, and then a mocking look appeared.
"Crouch, how do you think we found out that Barty Crouch Jr. was not dead? We looked back at the starting point of the fireplace - there were at least dozens of path information from 'Riddle House' last night. No.
Yes, the old house of Tom Riddle's Muggle father. Guess who helped the Dark Lord handle the trivial matters of buying back the house, building the fireplace, and even being a core member...arranging the attack?"
The old lion at the Auror headquarters stared intently at Crouch's face, observing every change in his mood.
"When mortals walk, there must be traces... This is a saying Kingsley heard from the Muggle police. I think it makes sense. Although Voldemort and Crouch escaped the exploration of magic, they ignored it.
Those little Muggles, we heard about Barty Crouch from Muggles..."
"Muggle? Riddle House? What's going on?"
Old Crouch frowned more and more, as if he saw a big invisible net being pulled down from the sky.
"About a few months ago, a man named Tom Riddle bought Riddle House, and all the procedures were handled by his butler. The Sheriff of Little Hangleton Village, government officials, and Riddle House
The old gardener all saw the appearance of Barty Crouch - although the Muggles' oral descriptions were a bit vague, but with the name and appearance, we could barely recall in our minds a certain young man with blond hair.
.”
"So...you really know nothing? Crouch, you are too conceited -"
Scrimgeour glanced at Barty Crouch who looked shocked, and the big stone in his heart finally loosened a little.
He pulled out his wand and waved it slightly around, blocking out possible prying eyes and eavesdropping.
"The situation has long been out of control. Your so-called control, the Imperius Curse... has obviously expired a long time ago."
"Our informant overheard part of the conversation between Voldemort and Crouch Jr. - just before they launched the attack - Professor Dumbledore and Director Bones believed that you should still belong to our side, otherwise they
I won’t discuss whether to kill you or capture you alive.”
"It's just that there are still many differences in the ministry regarding your issue..."
Scrimgeour took a deep breath, lowered his voice slightly, and looked at Old Crouch behind the cold iron railings.
"Some senior officials believe that your actions have seriously violated the law and must be severely punished; others believe that your actions should not be confused with Death Eaters and should be decided by the Wizengamot Court after a hearing and vote. However,
No matter which side you are on, everyone agrees that based on the contents of the 'Azkaban Special Regulations' you drafted that year, this is the most stable plan at present - the resolution was passed unanimously in a small area."
"At least during this time, you have to spend it in Azkaban. Of course, today's Azkaban wizard prison is not completely reassuring - Voldemort will never let Azkaban go. There are too many people here.
Many followers who can strengthen his power and... potential followers.
As he spoke, he tilted his head towards the few Dementors floating in the air not far away and continued.
"Therefore, we choose to trust you one last time, Mr. Crouch."
Snap.
A small box passed through the railing, flipped several times, and rolled to Barty Crouch's feet.
"'We'...who do you mean?"
"Whoever believes in you—" Scrimgeour shrugged.
He watched Barty Crouch put away his wand, breathed a sigh of relief, and waved his wand to remove the protection.
"When the dust settles, the Wizengamot Tribunal will summon you to sit in court... As for this period of time, I hope you can reflect on yourself and try to get part of the sentence reduced when the court opens... Your work will be temporarily handled by Ludo Ba
Geman assists in the handover, then——"
Scrimgeour waved his hand, turned around and walked towards the exit of the prison.
"Wait, Rufus...something's wrong!"
Crouch thought carefully, grabbed the railing with both hands and shouted loudly.
"About my son, this is definitely a conspiracy - he was definitely still there when I left home last night. You are going to warn Dumbledore and Cornelius about the 'Little Barty' who appeared next to Voldemort.
Crouch' is definitely someone else, you must be more vigilant..."
"So, do you have any excuse for assisting Barty Crouch Jr. in escaping from prison?"
"I..." Barty Crouch's tone faltered.
"We'll find out anyway, Mr. Crouch."
Scrimgeour paused, did not look back, and sighed softly after a moment of silence.
"However, as a former friend, I would like to give you a piece of advice: Don't think about continuing to defend your son and absolving him from guilt. The situation has developed to this point and is no longer something you can cover up and fix. People have to do it for themselves.
You have to pay the price, that’s the reality.”
"Instead of caring about the Ministry of Magic's affairs now, you should think carefully about why you appeared in Azkaban..."
…………
Squeak - bang.
The iron door to the outside world in Azkaban is closed.
Barty Crouch's anxious, hoarse voice echoed in the dark depths of the prison.
As if some giant beast was dragging the boulder, the cell he was in moved quickly and sank.
A few minutes later, with a muffled sound of metal and stone colliding, the cell where Barty Crouch was located shook violently and stopped in a dark, damp underground area. There seemed to be many cells around it, but the fog and darkness
Blocked his sight, he could only see the outline
A certain cold atmosphere filled the air, and the dementor's rotting clothes were looming in the shadows.
"Oh, isn't this Mr. Barty Crouch? What a surprise!"
At this moment, a high-pitched, somewhat hoarse and crazy female voice sounded from the cell not far from Barty Crouch.
"I heard that the Dark Lord is back? As a war hero in people's eyes, how come you were imprisoned in Azkaban? Oh, you shouldn't think about this now. You must first learn from others and pray.
Let your acquaintances at the Ministry of Magic listen to your explanation, right?"
"He's crazy, Bella, didn't you hear? This old guy seems to think his son is alive -"
"After all, that's the only way he can please the Dark Lord, isn't it? What a pity -"
The woman who spoke first said with a sneer, and shouted proudly in the direction of Barty Crouch in the darkness.
"I said, the Dark Lord will come back! Crouch! Soon, soon he will come back to save us! He will give us a special reward! Only we are loyal! And you - when we come out of prison,
You are the most wonderful gift we can give to celebrate our release from prison——"
"Bellatrix? I didn't expect you are still alive?"
Barty Crouch raised his eyebrows, sat back on his bed, and said calmly.
"Yes, Voldemort did appear last night, but you obviously didn't get any summons——"
"If the Dark Lord you are talking about really cares about you, then you should be running away from him and hiding in XZ now, instead of still being locked up in the Azkaban cell, dreaming of some reward. Let me tell you,
You are just discarded trash."
Crouch's words were like a cold blade, instantly cutting off the ridicule and sarcasm of the Death Eaters around him.
Just as he said, with the news of Voldemort's return, almost every Death Eater imprisoned in Azkaban is asking:
Why didn't the Dark Lord summon them? Will the Dark Lord come to save them again?
Barty Crouch's words undoubtedly reopened this layer of uneasy wounds.
After all... their Dark Mark wasn't even permed.
"Shut up, old guy! The Dark Lord certainly has his reasons—"
Bellatrix Lestrange let out a sharp, angry cry like a beast that had been stabbed.
"You'd better look around you. This is Crouch's cell. The last Crouch died in it."
This is……
Where did the last "Crouch" live?
In the darkness where Bellatrix could not see, Barty Crouch's eyes flickered.
He ignored the messy and annoying noises outside, turned around and looked around one by one through the weak moonlight.
In a sense, the mad woman in the cell next door was right.
This is indeed the place where a certain "Crouch" lived before his death, but...that "Crouch" was not Barty Crouch.
On the wall near the single bed, there were still some crude patterns carved with hard objects. Old Batty had to get very close to barely see what they were - most of them were human figures outlined with simple lines.
, looks like a mural of an ancient magical ruin.
"Oh, yes, I suddenly remembered...that cowardly little thing was still struggling in prison-"
Noticing the movement of Barty Crouch's footsteps, Bellatrix's voice flashed with some evil pleasure.
"At first I heard him calling 'Mom', 'Mom' in his sleep..."
"Later, you and your wife came here. He didn't continue to yell at night. Instead, he carved something on the wall all night long, making people unable to sleep. There are Aurors at the Ministry of Magic.
I came to see it and heard that the paintings seemed to be of his family——"
"What a poor guy. Before he died, he probably thought you would come to save him, but it's a pity that you didn't even come to collect the body..."
family……
Old Crouch suddenly fell silent.
His fingers caressed the uneven and crude patterns one by one.
From infancy to babbling, from staggering to walking to receiving the Hogwarts notice...
The person who carved these patterns obviously had no talent for painting, but the scenes were not very complicated. At best, they were just a small figure, plus a long-haired woman and a tall man. Sometimes there were even some small figures beside them.
Object and text annotations.
The noisy Diagon Alley, flying broomsticks...
Well, this seems to be Christmas? As for this, it should be a birthday, right?
Barty Crouch carefully groped around the wall, trying to identify the scenes depicted in the patterns.
He vaguely remembered some of those scenes, some didn't remember them at all, and at least half of them he clearly remembered that he was not involved in. However, in the "stories" on the wall, every picture showed three neat figures.
…
Every one of them, without exception, has that tall man.
As the pattern gradually extends, the scratches become shallower and shallower.
Finally, we stopped at the Hogwarts graduation ceremony.
The story reaches its end there.
The mark belonging to "Father" was cut halfway and turned into a slant line hanging downward.
He leaned against the cold wall and sat down slowly, as if all the strength in his body had escaped along with the unfinished scratches.
Crouch closed his eyes and tried not to think about what happened next.