"Welcome to Azkaban!" The older guard exclaimed with so much gusto, you would've thought he was the welcome wagon for the Marriot, "I think you'll enjoy your tour today, partly because I'm giving it." He laughed a hearty laugh and clapped Harry on the back, knocking his glasses askew.
Hermione didn't want to be there. The last thing she wanted to see was a bunch of convicted Death-Eaters locked away and growling at them through the bars that she helped put them behind. But, it was for a grade, and grades were important. As part of the Auror training program, all trainees had to take a tour of Azkaban. Mainly because during the war, and a little bit afterwards, Aurors were throwing people into Azkaban left and right; whether they had killed someone or sneezed without covering their mouth, they went to the wizarding prison. Mostly, the tour was to raise mercy and make Aurors think twice about their sentencing, and maybe send the minor criminals to a less harsh prison.
"Shall we get started?" The chipper guard said and led Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger through the front door to the prison.
Hermione REALLY didn't want to be there anymore. The prison was damp and chilly and it reeked of despair. She just wanted to wrap her arms around herself and disappear. A large shiver ran down her spine and before the prison guard could even reach his wand, a silver stag erupted from Harry's. The warmth helped a little, but she still wanted to go home.
Harry and Ron looked from cell to cell at all the criminals that were locked up; sniggering a little when Rabastan Lestrange threatened them weakly form the corner of his dark cell. Hermione wasn't paying attention, though. She didn't want to see these people suffering, even if they were convicted criminals, so she was spacing off and not listening to the tour guide.
She did start paying attention again, however, when she slammed into Ron's back. They'd stopped walking and were standing in front of a large wooden door at the end of a corridor, "This," The guide said, the chipper edge to his voice wavering a bit, "Is the wing where we keep all the prisoners who were sentenced to the Dementor's kiss." He pushed the door open, and ushered them in.
The room was even colder here, and dead silent. There were no bars on the cells, just open-ended stalls. And the prisoners were lying on the floor; unmoving and unaware of the fact that four people had just entered the room. A purple paper airplane soared into the room and the guard unfolded it, "Ok, I have to go check on something back in the war criminals wing, so I'll be right back. You'll be safe here, they're all completely unresponsive. Look around if you wish, and when you're done, just wait outside the door for me and we'll finish up our tour. Whatever you do, though, do NOT touch the prisoners."
And with that, he left them to look around. The three went silently from stall to stall, unconsciously looking for anyone they recognized. After the first five cells, Ron spoke up, "This is boring. They're just lying there."
"That's all they can do, Ron." Hermione's whisper was barely audible, but the two boys caught what she was saying.
Ron was about to apologize, when Hermione stopped abruptly. She saw a familiar face in a cell toward the middle of the row. The slender body was curled up in the middle of his cell, his messy brown hair draped delicately across the pale and sallow skin of his face. His deep, chocolate brown eyes were looking straight ahead. Barty Crouch Jr. was looking, but not seeing.
Hermione swallowed hard. It was heart-wrenching to see someone she'd known in such a state. Sure, he'd done some bad things in his life, and his eyes used to burn with hate and dark loyalty, but it was a whole other thing to see them completely empty. It was silent for a long time, before Harry said, "Bastard." And walked out of the room; Ron laughing as he followed.
Hermione stepped carefully into the cell and sat with her back to the stone side wall, so that she was looking straight on at his face. He didn't move. Hermione felt a wrench of pain her chest; no one deserved this punishment. No one deserved to have their life sucked out, and to be left as nothing but a shell to rot in a lonely prison cell forever.
Barty had tried to kill her and Harry. He'd helped bring Voldemort back, and was therefore responsible for the death of her classmates and friends. But he'd also taught her so much. He'd taught her about defending herself from the Imperious Curse; something that had come in handy when she'd faced Bellatrix at Malfoy Manor. He'd taught her about constantly watching her back; something that she'd needed when they were in the final battle. Basically, he'd made her into the Auror she was about to become. And that was why she pitied him.
Now, her former teacher and foe was curled up defenseless on the floor of a cell in Azkaban; his very soul ripped right out of his body. Hermione reached forward and delicately stroked the brunette locks away from Barty's face; a tingling heat shooting through her fingers when she came in contact with the skin of his forehead.
She sat back and looked at her fingertips, then wrote the experience off as a mind-trick. She folded her hands in her lap and continued to watch the figure on the floor in front of her. Suddenly, his brown eyes met hers, and he blinked.
Hermione rubbed her eyes, trying to make sure she'd seen it right. And sure enough, Barty was watching her with his eyes. Eyes that suddenly had a little life behind them, as if he comprehended his surroundings. She shook her head; this wasn't right, Barty had no soul, and therefore, could not understand that he was looking at another person. She closed her eyes and pressed her index fingers to her temples. Finals time at the Ministry Auror Program was too much stress on her and now, she was losing her mind.
"I know you." A raspy voice rang out in the cell; a voice that sounded rusty form not being used in several years. Hermione's eyes shot open and Barty was still staring at her, "I know you." Barty said again.
Hermione froze and whispered, "How do you know me?" It was a stupid question, but Barty didn't look like he fully understood who he was or where he was.
"You're in my memories." He said simply, his voice returning to the crisp one she'd heard in her fourth year. He began to push himself up, his muscles quivering from years of unused.
Hermione was too frightened to help him; so instead, she scrambled to her feet and watched to see what he would do. With a tremendous amount of effort, Barty got to his feet. He flexed his fingers and clenched his fists, looking like a baby just discovering that these things were attached to him, "Stay right there." She said, her voice sounding feeble and girlish.
At the sound of her full voice, Barty snapped his head up, "Miss Granger. I remember now. You and Mr. Potter are friends. I remember him." He blinked hard several times, as if who he was was trying to force its way out of the quick sand of Barty's mind.
"Ron!" Hermione called, she was scared and didn't know what to do. Ron didn't hear her, and neither had Harry, so she tried again, "RONALD!" She bellowed, making Barty wince at the volume.
Ron and Harry bust through the door and ran down the corridor to Barty's cell; the guide close behind. Hermione flung herself into Ron's arms and Harry drew his wand carefully, waiting to see what Barty would do. No one spoke for a long time, before the guide said, "Hermione, you touched him, didn't you?" Hermione nodded into Ron's chest, tears rolling down her face. Her old enemy, the man mainly responsible for all the hell she went through for four years, was suddenly moving and remembering her. It was too much to take, "You shouldn't have done that. You see, Dementors don't really suck out your soul; that would kill you. They put your soul to sleep. A sleep that they can only be awoken from by the touch of a person with a fully intact soul." The guard sent out an alarm for backup and a team of four other guards quickly came streaming through the door, "A soul once frayed can be revived again by compassion and pity." The guard said simply as his comrades moved in on Barty to take him to a proper cell in the prison.
Barty was still blinking, wondering what he did wrong and why he knew these young adults. The last Hermione saw of him was his brown eyes gleaming with recognition, and the last thing she heard was his voice sweetly saying, "You're so smart. I remember now." And Hermione began to cry again.