A/N: This came to me at about three o'clock in the morning. Even Mr Crouch has feelings, you know. What was he feeling during that infamous courtroom scene?
Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK. If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. Well, I might be, but still…
Take Him Away
It's very quiet.
That is my first thought. Everyone is looking at the door. Even though the Dark Lord has gone, fallen, we are still against his supporters.
I feel oddly reflective at this moment. I wonder, where did I go wrong? There are many answers to that question. I do not doubt for a second that my son will not hesitate to advertise the least tasteful – that I never loved him.
But I did love him. I still love him. I love him enough not to throw him to the Dementors without a trial like I have with so many others.
I cannot bear to look at my wife. If I do, my self-control will break. I can hear her sobbing, the only sound in this frustratingly silent courtroom.
They're looking at me. I know they are. They're wondering…wondering why, just as I am, did my son join the Death Eaters? They don't want to know – they're just as frightened as I am of finding out.
I knew the Longbottoms well. So did my son. He knew them well enough to get past their wards. Knew them well enough for them to believe him when he said his companions were Hit Wizards.
He knew them well enough to drive them insane.
It is ironic that we share the same name. I can hear the jokes over the breakfast table: "Barty Crouch has been caught with a bunch of Death Eaters." "Why, the old hypocrite. What next, Sirius Black was never You-Know-Who's best mate?" Which, in some distorted way, is humorous. Black could not have shown his colours more clearly. But I am serious, now. We have Black to thank for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's downfall, I'm sure.
The door is opening. I worry. Have I made the right decision? Is my career worth more than my son?
Yes, it is.
