Barty Crouch Sr. looked at the two letters in front of him on his desk.
One was from St. Mungo's and one was from Azkaban.
There was a knock on his office door.
"Enter," Crouch spoke in his strongest possible voice.
The door opened and Moody walked into the room.
"Hello, Moody," Crouch greeted, sitting up straight and firm in his chair. "You always know how to show up right on time."
Moody frowned for a moment in confusion, but then he spotted the two letters.
"I can safely guess what the letter from St. Mungo's is about," Moody spoke, his voice only wavering slightly, "but I'm not quite sure about the letter from Azkaban."
"One of the prisoners wishes to talk with me," Crouch hissed.
The look on Crouch's face was enough to tell Moody exactly which prisoner he was referring to.
"Do you want me to go to Azkaban to see what this prisoner has to say?" Moody asked, making sure to keep his voice neutral.
"I can already make several guesses on what he wants to say," Crouch said. "There's no doubt in my mind that he wants to make a deal with me."
"You're made deals before with filth," Moody said in a matter-of-fact voice.
"I didn't want to do it," Crouch snapped, "but Karkaroff gave enough valuable information that the rest of the Wizengamot was willing to negotiate with him. As much as I hate to say it, many Death Eaters are in Azkaban because of him. Now, I will think of him no more, and I don't want you doing so either. There are still many Death Eaters on the loose. Perhaps one of them will take care of Karkaroff before they are caught. But this prisoner is different. This prisoner must be handled differently."
"You have never cared before what people thought of you," Moody responded, his voice calm.
"What are trying to tell me, Moody? You know that I do not care for riddles."
"I don't like any Death Eater," Moody growled. "I think they all deserve to rot. But I also think that you should treat them all the same way. No favoritism. No lack of favoritism. No making one think that they're more special than all the others. Now, I will ask again. Do you want me to go to Azkaban to see what this prisoner has to say?"
Crouch looked at Moody for a long moment, his face completely emotionless, before finally saying, "Yes."
Moody nodded his head at Crouch before turning to leave the room.
As soon as the door was closed, Crouch buried his face in his hands and began to cry.
Moody didn't hate and fear Azkaban like most other people did, but it still wasn't one of his favorite places. He wasn't, after all, immune to the dementors. He did, however, believe that they were exactly what filth such as Igor Karkaroff, Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and Barty Crouch Jr. deserved.
What was Barty going to say? Was he going to claim to have been under the influence of the Imperius Curse? Was he going to offer up the names of Death Eaters that were still free?
It didn't really matter to Moody. If he had his way, Barty would stay in Azkaban for the rest of his life.
Moody was so caught up in his rage that he barely felt the dementor guiding him to Barty's cell.
Then, a distraction came in the form of Sirius Black.
Moody met the other man's eyes only briefly through the bars of his cell door before quickly looking away.
Moody had liked Sirius, despite the younger man's often mischievous, arrogant ways, because he had thought Sirius to be loyal and everything a friend ought to be.
The dementor turned to look at Moody, and the look that it gave the Auror gave him the impression that if it had the ability to smirk, it would be doing exactly that.
"Keep on moving," Moody growled.
Who would have ever thought that a dementor could have a sense of humor?
Stop thinking like that, Moody snarled to himself. The last thing you need to do is to lose your mind here.
Moody and his dementor guide passed by Bellatrix Lestrange's cell.
"Are you here to see the little baby?" Bellatrix taunted. "He will be so disappointed when he sees that you are not his daddy. And to think, I always thought that he was a mommy's boy."
Moody ignored Bellatrix and kept on walking.
"You cannot ignore me forever!" Bellatrix shrieked angrily after him. "The Dark Lord will rise again, and he will come to free me! Then, he will go after all his enemies! That includes you!"
Moody just kept on walking, acting as if he could not hear the disgusting woman.
"Spend more time around her in the future," Moody muttered to his guide.
The dementor once again turned to look at the Auror, and once again it gave the impression that if it could smirk, it would be doing exactly that.
I'm really starting to lose my mind, Moody thought to himself. Smirking dementors? Really, Moody? Really?
The dementor finally stopped in front of a cell.
"Give us some space," Moody growled.
To the Auror's surprise, the dementor actually listened to him.
Maybe it likes me, Moody though. Oh, wonderful, you really are going mad, Moody.
The Auror shook his head ever so slightly before directing his attention to the cell's occupant.
"So, what's your story going to be?" Moody asked. "Does it involve the Imperius Curse?"
Barty Crouch Jr. looked at Moody for a long moment through the bars of his cell door before finally shaking his head and saying in a weak voice, "No, it doesn't."
"Well, I can't believe it," Moody drawled, after a moment of surprise. "You have some spine after all."
"But you don't know the full story," Barty said quickly.
"Surely you're not going to try to tell me that you accidentally walked into the Longbottoms' house just when the Lestranges happened to be in the middle of torturing them," Moody sneered.
Barty shook his head again.
"Did you bring me all the way out here for nothing, boy?" Moody hissed angrily, turning to leave.
"Please, I can give you names," Barty spoke.
"Ah, so it's going to be that story," Moody remarked, turning to face Barty once more.
"I know someone that you hate even more than me," Barty said. "I know someone that my father hates even more than me."
"Boy, I know of many of the stories that people tell about me," Moody responded in an annoyed voice, "but let me correct you on one point. I don't always like the dramatics. Now, get to your point. You're wasted enough of my precious time as it is."
"Lucius Malfoy," Barty spoke quickly. "I can give you evidence against Lucius Malfoy."
"Were you there when he did these pieces of evidence?" Moody asked lazily.
"I'm offering you information on a highly ranked Death Eater," Barty said angrily. "I would think you would want that."
"Oh, I do," Moody replied, "but if you think I'm here to make a deal with you, you're wrong."
"Well, my father might want to hear what I have to say," Barty sneered. "He's hated Lucius Malfoy for years."
"I hope you're not expecting your father to come rescue you," Moody snarled, "but I will listen to what you have to say and I will pass it along to Crouch Sr. I don't want my visit here to be a complete waste of time. Well, boy, what are you waiting for? Start speaking."
Barty immediately began to tell Moody about the different dates and places where he had seen Lucius Malfoy torturing and killing Muggles.
Why does all this information have to be coming from a Death Eater? Moody thought angrily. There's no way he can know all this without having been directly involved himself.
Moody feared that none of Barty's information, despite how detailed it was, would be of any use against Malfoy.
It would all depend on whether or not the Wizengamot would be willing to play nice with one Death Eater in order to send another one to Azkaban in his place.
True, the court had done it before, but Moody knew that Lucius Malfoy was a lot more popular and had a lot more connections in the Ministry than any of the Death Eaters that Karkaroff had betrayed.
Which was probably why Karkaroff had not considered mentioning Malfoy's name, the clever bastard.
It also would depend on whether or not the Wizengamot would be willing to show any sympathy towards Barty Crouch Jr.
Would his own father be willing to show any sympathy towards him? Who did Barty Crouch Sr. truly hate more, Lucius Malfoy or his own son?
If Moody had his way, both Malfoy and young Crouch would be spending the rest of their lives in Azkaban.
But Moody had learned long ago that it wasn't often that he fully got his way. Politics always seemed to get in his way.
And Lucius Malfoy was a master at politics.
Would Barty Crouch Jr. prove to be the same way?
Oh, how I hate politics, Moody though angrily.
"I will pass your information to the proper sources, but I will not be making you any promises," Moody growled after Barty had finished. "Aurors don't make deals with your kind."
Moody then turned to the dementor. "I'm ready to leave."