Chapter 18

Draco's surroundings began to blur again, and then refocused to show another scene. He was in the middle of a seemingly deserted street. Then, he heard footsteps. Draco turned to see the eighteen-year-old Crouch run past him.

Crouch turned a corner and Draco followed him. Crouch was standing in the middle of the street, in the dark. He looked around and murmured, "Lumos."

A small ball of light appeared at the tip of his wand. He held it in front of him, and continued down the street. Eventually, three figures came into view.

"Who are you," shouted one of them.

Crouch held his wand up so that the three people could see his face. One of them groaned. Slowly, they all came forward. There were two men and a woman.

"Barty," said the woman. "What are you doing here?"

Draco recognized that voice. He wasn't at all surprised when his aunt came forward. She looked also much younger.

"Avery told me," said Crouch.

"You shouldn't have come here, Barty," snapped Bellatrix. "Go back to the Leaky Cauldron."

"What exactly did you do?" asked Crouch. "Avery said something about attacking the Longbottoms."

"That's none of your business!" hissed Bellatrix. "Get out of here, and leave us alone. We still have a few things that we must take care of."

"So you already attacked them then," said Crouch with a sigh.

"Yes, we did," said one of the men. "What does it matter to you, Crouch?"

"I wanted to warn you, Rodolphus…" began Crouch.

"Wanted to warn us?" scoffed Bellatrix. "What is it that you could possibly warn us about that we don't already know?"

"I just thought that I could stop you," said Crouch. "Why did you attack the Longbottoms anyway? Why did you want to seek out trouble?"

"Don't you care about finding the Dark Lord, Barty?" said Bellatrix. "Don't you…"

Her voice trailed off. She whipped around, her wand outstretched. A group of people was nearing them.

"Lower your wands now or we curse!" shouted one of the people.

Bellatrix laughed. Crouch had become very pale.

"Give us a reason to!" she screamed back.

"You have been caught at the scene of a crime!" yelled another one of the approaching people. "We are Aurors from the Ministry and we order you to lower your wands now, or else we'll have to use ours."

"Like that scares us," Bellatrix sneered. "Like we'd be afraid of a bunch of Aurors!"

"This is our last warning!" shouted the first Auror.

Bellatrix laughed again. The Aurors began to shoot curses. She blocked most of them with a flick of her wand. The Aurors were close enough now for Draco to see that there must have been at least a dozen of them, probably more.

He glanced at Crouch, who was now deflecting and shooting curses rapidly. Somehow, none of the curses seemed to be able to hurt Draco. It was like he wasn't there at all.

There was a shriek and Draco saw the young Crouch crumple to the ground, before being snatched up by an Auror. Crouch was still breathing, but his wand was lying a few feet away on the ground. Refusing to give up the fight, he aimed a few kicks at the Auror, who grunted and let go of him. It only took a few seconds for another Auror to grab Crouch and press his wand against Crouch's throat.

"Drop your wands or I'll kill him!" shouted the Auror.

"If you think that they'll stop just because you're threatening me, you're seriously mistaken," said Crouch.

Bellatrix merely shrugged. She and the man called Rodolphus continued to fight. The other man who had been with Bellatrix immediately dropped his wand. He was a skinny and worried looking man. He too was seized by an Auror, and held with a wand against his throat. Crouch appeared to be surprised by this.

"You must be joking, Rabastan," muttered Crouch. "You'd give up the fight for a 'worthless blood-traitor'; is that not exactly what you called me just a few weeks ago?"

The worried looking man said nothing. He glanced at Crouch and muttered something to himself.

Again, the scene became unfocused. Draco was used to that happening by then, although he still had no idea why it happened. When his surroundings settled into place, he was in a jail. It was Azkaban; he was sure of it. Dementors glided around everywhere, but somehow, their powers did not affect him in the same way that the curses hadn't been unable to hurt him.

By the looks of it, he was at the end of a narrow hallway. There were three cells there. Each of them was occupied. The man in the first cell appeared to be asleep. Draco recognized him as the convict, Sirius Black. Black had been innocent, but he had been killed by Draco's aunt, Bellatrix. That was all Draco knew about him.

Draco recognized the people in the other two cells immediately. In the middle cell, was Mulciber. He looked to be in his early twenties, but Draco could tell that stress was already starting to affect him greatly. Draco was barely surprised by this. It was like he had traveled to the past, although he didn't know how that could have possibly happened.

In the last cell was Crouch. Crouch looked like he was about nineteen now. He looked much worse than he had during the battle with the Aurors. He was shivering, emaciated and looked terribly ill. Mulciber was leaning against the bars of his cell, trying to see Crouch.

"Are you feeling worse?" whispered Mulciber.

Crouch lifted his head slightly and inched towards the bars of his cell.

"Yes," he murmured. "But it's not like I'm expecting to feel any better."

"That's because you stopped eating a week ago," said Mulciber.

"I ate something once," muttered Crouch. "It didn't help."

"Maybe you should…" began Mulciber.

"There's nothing either of us can do," murmured Crouch. "I've accepted it. You should too."

"Accept what?" whispered Mulciber.

"I think you know," murmured Crouch. "The dementors will come for my body in a week… maybe in a few days. I'm just waiting."

There was a brief silence before Mulciber said, "You shouldn't be the one who's dying."

"Believe me, I don't really fancy death," replied Crouch, smiling weakly. "But it's coming. Dying actually doesn't feel too terrible. At least you know that the suffering is going to end soon."

"But you have something to live for," said Mulciber. "Once the Death Eaters in Azkaban are free, you can go back to Sky. You can…"

"Even if I lived long enough," said Crouch grimly. "I doubt that she'd remember or care to remember me. I'd remember her of course, but…"

"She's been in the Prophet for rebelling against the Ministry ever since your capture," said Mulciber. "And as far as I know she still is, but the point is that you shouldn't be the one who's dying. You were innocent; you don't deserve to be here."

"Neither do you," murmured Crouch but Mulciber ignored him.

"I should be the one who's dying right now," screamed Mulciber. "I want to be the one who's on their death bed! You should be the one who lives through all of this! There is nothing left in this world for me; there's something left for you!"

"You can think whatever you want to think about yourself," Crouch sighed. "But Death isn't always fair. I think that we all know that. We just have to accept it."

The young Crouch's voice trailed off and Azkaban prison became a swirling blur. This time, it was different. Draco felt like he was being pulled out of a whirlpool.

Seconds later, he was back in the cluttered bedroom. It was like he had awoken from a vivid dream. He gasped and looked around. Standing across from him was the older Barty Crouch Jr., looking rather irritated.

"You're a curious little ferret, aren't you, Draco?" said Crouch. "I assume you found my private memories fascinating, didn't you?"