Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

Barty Crouch's expression darkened slightly as Lucius Malfoy emerged from the shadows. Without so much as a glance, he turned to head back toward his home.

Seeing this, Lucius quickly stepped forward and intercepted him.

"Hey, Barty," he said, tone light, "there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Blocked on his path, Barty Crouch responded coldly, "Step aside. I have nothing to discuss with you."

He gave Lucius a shove and made to continue on his way.

Lucius, unfazed by the push, remained standing where he was and spoke in a soft, pointed voice:

"Well, if there's nothing you want to say to me, I suppose I'll just have to speak with young Barty Crouch instead. I imagine he'd be… rather eager for another chance at the light."

Barty Crouch froze mid-step.

As Lucius allowed a smirk to curl at the corners of his lips, there was a sudden blur in his vision—and Barty Crouch vanished before his eyes.

When Lucius realized what had happened, the tip of a wand was already pressed firmly against his forehead.

Sweat beaded instantly across Lucius's brow. He hadn't expected such a violent reaction from Crouch.

From behind him, Barty Crouch's voice rang out, low and menacing.

"My son, Barty Crouch Jr., is dead in Azkaban. That was the punishment he deserved. If you're so eager to speak with him, I'd be more than happy to send you down there. What do you say?"

Lucius swallowed hard. Then, gritting his teeth, he growled,

"Barty Crouch, you and I both know your son was never left to rot in Azkaban. He didn't die there. And don't trouble yourself wondering how I know—rest assured, I haven't told anyone else."

The street fell deathly silent.

It felt to Lucius like an eternity passed before the wand tip slowly withdrew from his forehead.

He exhaled in relief and only then realized his robes were soaked in cold sweat.

Turning to look behind him, he saw Barty Crouch seated on a stone slab by the doorstep of his home, face drawn, his expression hollow, as though all the life had been drained from him.

Lucius approached, intending to offer some kind of consolation, but Crouch cut him off icily.

"Just say it, Lucius. What do you want?"

Lucius offered a thin smile.

"First," he said calmly, "I want you to cease all opposition to Lockhart's proposal for the Central Bank of the Wizarding World."

Crouch offered no reply, only gestured for Lucius to continue.

Though he felt a flicker of uncertainty, Lucius pressed on—there was no turning back now.

"Second… someone would like you to step down as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Crouch's eyes narrowed at once.

"So… this is coming from Fudge, then?"

But before Lucius could respond, Crouch shook his head slowly.

"No. It's not Fudge. If Cornelius had found out about Barty Jr., he wouldn't have bothered with games. You wouldn't be standing here—there'd be a squad of Aurors waiting instead."

He fell silent, lost in thought for a moment. Then he looked up at Lucius with a strange expression.

"So that's it, then. I'm not your target. I'm just part of the deal. I'm a bargaining chip—removing me from the Department is your payment to someone else, am I right?"

Lucius didn't deny it. He wasn't surprised that Crouch had pieced it together so quickly. The man had once been the most respected candidate for Minister of Magic before Fudge—his sharp mind was well known.

Now, seeing that Crouch had no intention of retaliating, Lucius allowed himself to relax.

"What surprises me, Barty, is that you were the one who freed your son from Azkaban. That… isn't like you."

Barty let out a bitter laugh.

"What could I do? His mother was gravely ill—her days were numbered. That night… she fell to her knees before me, begging through her tears. She made me promise to save him. I faltered. I gave in to her plan."

Lucius gave Crouch's shoulder a sympathetic pat. He thought of Draco, and realized—if it had been his own son in the same position, he might've done exactly the same… without an ounce of guilt.

Then Barty Crouch asked, suddenly and quietly:

"Tell me—who is meant to replace me?"

Lucius paused. Then, deciding there was no point in lying now, he replied evenly:

"Thomas Vole."

Crouch blinked, clearly surprised. "Thomas Vole? That's… not the name I was expecting. I thought for sure you'd name someone from an old pure-blood family."

Lucius merely smiled, offering no explanation.

Crouch muttered to himself, "Still, Thomas Vole… not a bad choice. Capable, experienced, and well-liked among many in the wizarding community. The timing couldn't be better."

As Crouch fell into contemplation, Lucius added silently to himself:

And more importantly, he's got a very useful daughter.

The two men stood in silence for a while.

At last, Barty Crouch spoke again.

"I'll submit my resignation to Fudge tomorrow morning."

Before Lucius could thank him, Crouch had turned and swiftly retreated into his home.

Once inside, Barty shoved aside the startled house-elf Winky and pulled open a concealed door.

Inside the hidden room, a gaunt young man sat listlessly on the floor.

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