Chương 27: Sympathy for the Devil
I knew that Crouch was a good loyal soldier at the hands of the Dark Lord. He wasn't powerful, overly talented or even gifted in any sense.
His usefulness lied in his close proximity to his father the Head of DMLE, and his real allegiance hidden from the world. He was the perfect turncoat; deeply hidden undercover in the enemy ranks, and close to a high official of the enemy forces.
But, if I were to reveal him now, his father would end up getting sacked, and Barty Sr. was a good bloodhound when unleashed in the proper direction.
So, I had to stage his son's death properly.
I had made a number of memory vials of Barty Jr.'s actions, the truth about getting a Dark Mark, and his allegiances. I also had to show the DMLE, that he was willing to kill his father for the Dark Lord, and was on his way to do so with Greyback, a known criminal and Voldemort supporter.
I had also made copies of the memories which showed that Dark Mark is never granted to followers who serve under duress, but to those who are the inner circle of his Band of Buffoons.
Along with these memories, I also made memories of him leaking secrets from his father to his master, and prepared the copy of memories to be sent to Augusta Longbottom.
I sent the original to Rufus Scrimgeour, and another copy to Millicent Bagnold.
I brought him in his catatonic state, and came to the Ministry Atrium under the cloak. I brought a Black Dagger specifically for this purpose.
I stood on the opposite side of the Atrium where there was a giant Wall. I brought nails and hammered Crouch on the wall, with these strong Iron nails. I made a small Stele of Stone below his nailed body, onto which his blood kept dripping and dyeing it red.
I made the unbreakable vials, which had the memories, and placed them below the Stele.
The Stele had the final epitaph, 'Here ye find the True Blood Traitor, BARTHOLOMEW CROUCH JR. who betrayed his father and his people to serve the Half Blood Master Tom Marvolo Riddle, an anagram of the phrase I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. May his blood soothe the cries of the innocents who suffered at his hands, and may he be led to perdition by mother magic herself. His crimes are reported in the memories in the vials. May he be judged by Laws of Men and Beyond. Just like his Brothers and Sisters in Arms were judged and found wanting.'
Dropping the Bomb I broadcasted the words on the Stele using a runic array, stabbed the Black Dagger, which had the words 'Dagger of Hecate' engraved on it, into the beating heart of Barty, and revived him. I removed the Notice-me-not and apparated away, as I felt the presence of another wizard lurking under a Disillusionment charm, and a powerful one at that, with the screams of agony blaring in the background.
I followed the protocol, of using a series of portkeys and apparitions, to and fro and landed in France, finally to complete the evasion chain.
I had suspected something like that happening, after all. I knew, the moment, something of such magnitude strikes so close to the ministry, an Unspeakable, An Auror, or even Crouch Sr., Moody or the big players like Voldemort or Dumbledore themselves would arrive using a time turner to spy on the person who actually committed the act.
I left from the 14th Arrondissement, and left for Italy, to lay low for a while. After all, apparently Macnair is in Bulgaria with Dolohov on some business at the behest of his master, and he would return about a week later.
I arrived to a group of incensed individuals, I like to call family, and find them looking at me with trepidation. "You had quite an adventure, son."
I smiled wryly, and answered. "Of course I did. Didn't you notice with the Blood Tracking spell and the Scrying Grandma was doing earlier?"
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