But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice.
“The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering
Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled
me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through
their doors.
“My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink
Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my
appearance. Everyone believed her to be me.”
The man's eyelids flickered.
“And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?” said Dumbledore
quietly.
“Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty.
The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to
be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I
had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master... of returning
to his service.”
“How did your father subdue you?” said Dumbledore.
“The Imperius Curse,” Moody said. “I was under my fathers control. I was
forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf.
She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give
me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior.”
“Master Barty, Master Barty,” sobbed Winky through her hands. “You isn't
ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble...”
“Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?” said Dumbledore softly.
“Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?”
“Yes,” said Crouch, his eyelids flickering again. “A witch in my father's
office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father s signature.
He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to
me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She
heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father
arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her
to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her
memory permanently.”
“Why is she coming to nose into my masters private business?” sobbed Winky.
“Why isn't she leaving us be?”
“Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup,” said Dumbledore.
“Winky talked my father into it,” said Crouch, still in the same monotonous
voice. “She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years.
I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility
Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would
have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom.
She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.
“It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early
in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was
to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky
would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.
“But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight
my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again.
There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there,
in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in
public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking
out of a boys pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I
stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face
hidden.”
“Master Barty, you bad boy!” whispered Winky, tears trickling between her
fingers.
“So you took the wand,” said Dumbledore, “and what did you do with it?”
“We went back to the tent,” said Crouch. “Then we heard them. We heard the
Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never
suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved,
as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making
sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than
it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand.
I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had
left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so
angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from
the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to
hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death
Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack
of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky.
“Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the
spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us
was broken. We were both Stunned.
“When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched
the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until
the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius
Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let
me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape.”
Winky let out a wail of despair.
“Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then... and then...”
Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face.
“My master came for me.
“He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail.
My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins
in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about
the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach
at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father
had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my
father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master
knew that I was still his faithful servant—perhaps the most faithful of all.
My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him.
He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the
door.”
The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest
memory of his life. Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers.
She seemed too appalled to speak.
“It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master.
Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go
about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released.
I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.
“And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?” said Dumbledore.
“He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready.
It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him.
He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who
would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing
to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the
Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person
to touch it to my master. But first—”
“You needed Alastor Moody,” said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing,
though his voice remained calm.
“Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand.
We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We
managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own
magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it;
I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur
Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance.
I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard
intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's
clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for
Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to
question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could
fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The
other ingredients were easy. I stole boom-slang skin from the dungeons. When
the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search
it.”
“And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?” said Dumbledore.
“Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep
watch over my father.”
“But your father escaped,” said Dumbledore.
“Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done.
There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was
no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters
to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail
neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master
guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore
everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban.
“My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at
all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter.
The map that had almost ruined everything.”
“Map?” said Dumbledore quickly. “What map is this?”
“Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more
ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought
I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that
night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was
after Snape.
“For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening,
the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak
and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then
Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him.
Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father.”
“Noooo!” wailed Winky. “Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?”
“You killed your father,” Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. “What
did you do with the body?”
“Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had
the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore
joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked
back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told
Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come.
“Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's
body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body.
He became a bone ...I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the
freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin.”
There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore
said, “And tonight...”
“I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner,” whispered
Barty Crouch. “Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned
to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards.”
The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his
shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust
on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes
that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned
to Professor McGonagall.
“Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?”
“Of course,” said Professor McGonagall. She looked slightly nauseous, as
though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her
wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.
“Severus”—Dumbledore turned to Snape—”please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down
here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into
the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will
undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital
wing in half an hour's time if he needs me.”
Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.
“Harry?” Dumbledore said gently.
Harry got up and swayed again; the pain in his leg, which he had not noticed
all the time he had been listening to Crouch, now returned in full measure.
He also realized that he was shaking. Dumbledore gripped his arm and helped
him out into the dark corridor.
“I want you to come up to my office first. Harry,” he said quiedy as they
headed up the passageway. “Sirius is waiting for us there.”
Harry nodded. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon
him, but he did not care; he was even glad of it. He didn't want to have to
think about anything that had happened since he had first touched the Triwizard
Cup. He didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs,
which kept flashing across his mind. Mad-Eye Moody, inside the trunk. Wormtail,
slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Voldemort, rising from
the steaming cauldron. Cedric... dead... Cedric, asking to be returned to his
parents...
“Professor,” Harry mumbled, “where are Mr. and Mrs. Diggory?”
“They are with Professor Sprout,” said Dumbledore. His voice, which had been
so calm throughout the interrogation of Barty Crouch, shook very slightly for
the first time. “She was Head of Cedric's house, and knew him best.”
They had reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang
aside, and he and Harry went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door.
Dumbledore pushed it open. Sirius was standing there. His face was white and
gaunt as it had been when he had escaped Azkaban. In one swift moment, he had
crossed the room.