Chapter 275
"My wife begged me… begged me to save our son."
Barty Crouch Sr. let out a long sigh.
"Of course, I wanted to save him as well. But he had committed an unforgivable crime, and there was nothing I could do."
"At the time, I believed he was a stain upon my life. A disgrace to my name."
"My wife, meanwhile, was already dying from grief. She hoped to exchange her own life for our son's."
Crouch paused briefly.
"I agreed."
His voice became strangely firm.
"He was my son, after all."
A wave of shocked gasps immediately spread through the hall.
"As someone who dealt with Dementors often, I understood them very well."
"They are blind creatures."
"When my wife and I visited Azkaban, the Dementors only sensed one healthy person and one dying person entering the prison."
"And when we left…"
"They merely sensed another healthy person and another dying person leaving."
"You switched your wife with your son."
A voice suddenly rose from one of the long tables.
"Yes."
Crouch nodded numbly.
The more he spoke, the deeper he seemed to sink into pain.
Regret gradually filled every wrinkle on his aged face.
"My wife continued drinking Polyjuice Potion until the day she died."
"She maintained my son's appearance until her very last moment."
"What a tragedy…"
Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes tiredly and slowly shook his head.
Sometimes, even when reason clearly told people something was wrong—
Emotion would still overpower logic and force them onto the wrong path.
In the eyes of Crouch's wife, she had merely sacrificed herself to save her child.
She had never considered what consequences might follow afterward.
"After that… I regretted it."
Crouch's voice grew heavier.
"I became an executioner."
"I indirectly killed my own wife, even if it was her choice."
"From then on, I lived in endless guilt and regret."
"I could barely continue working."
"Even though my new position carried immense responsibility, I forced myself to keep working so no one would notice anything unusual."
"But I couldn't continue living like that forever."
"The little conscience I had left told me that I at least had to care for my son during the remainder of his life."
"At the very least, I had to prevent him from committing further crimes."
"Perhaps that was the only atonement left available to me."
"I forced him to remain hidden beneath an Invisibility Cloak at all times."
"I used numerous spells to restrain him and prevent him from leaving the house to harm others again."
"And so… many years passed peacefully."
He suddenly coughed violently and bent forward.
"In truth, aside from the absence of Dementors, it wasn't much different from a prison."
"It remained that way until preparations began for the Quidditch World Cup."
"At that time, my house-elf pleaded with me on my son's behalf."
"She persuaded me."
"She told me my wife would never have wanted her sacrifice to result in a son living like a walking corpse."
"And she was right."
"As I said before, during all those years, my son's life had been no different from imprisonment."
"I agreed."
Mr. Crouch's tone returned to its previous numbness.
"And that became the beginning of every tragedy that followed."
"If he had remained in Azkaban…"
"Perhaps that would have been the best outcome for everyone."
His voice filled with regret.
"He eventually broke free from my Imperius Curse and escaped."
"To this day, I still don't know whether the chaos at the Quidditch World Cup was truly his doing."
"I only wanted to capture him again and keep him under control."
He shook his head bitterly.
"But now… I no longer have that chance."
"One night, someone knocked on my door."
"That person was Voldemort."
The moment Crouch finished speaking, whispers instantly erupted throughout the Great Hall once more.
The story sounded absurdly unbelievable.
Imagine opening your door late at night—
Only to find a dark wizard everyone believed dead for over ten years standing outside.
It sounded more like a ridiculous horror story than reality.
Yet no one doubted Crouch's tone.
"He used the Imperius Curse on me."
Another wave of horrified gasps spread through the hall.
"That's horrifying…"
Professor Minerva McGonagall pressed a hand against her forehead, looking slightly dizzy.
Percy Weasley suddenly stood up from his seat and pointed shakily toward Crouch.
"T-then…"
"You guessed correctly."
Crouch looked toward Percy and nodded.
"I lost my freedom shortly after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament."
"I was never truly ill like the rumors claimed."
"Even though the Imperius Curse could almost completely dominate my thoughts, the Dark Lord still worried about exposing me."
"That is why he tried his best to keep me from appearing publicly."
Percy slowly sat back down.
His usually proud and confident expression had completely collapsed.
The light in his eyes seemed gone.
It was obvious he had suffered a devastating blow.
"At that time, Voldemort was extremely weak."
"I could sense it."
"He didn't even possess a fully completed body yet."
"He existed like an infant wrapped in blankets."
"Though admittedly… an extraordinarily ugly infant."
"Even in that state, however, he still subdued me with ease."
Many students throughout the hall began trembling unconsciously.
Though they could not truly understand the experience, they could still imagine the terror.
"He remained every bit as arrogant and conceited as the rumors described."
"He believed magic stood above everything else."
"Perhaps this sounds boastful…"
"But I still wish to say it."
"I eventually broke free from Voldemort's Imperius Curse."
The audience exploded into shocked whispers.
"That's impossible!"
One student shouted instinctively.
"That's unbelievable!"
"He was too arrogant."
Crouch spoke slowly.
"Perhaps he never imagined anyone could resist his magic."
"But by then, my mind had already become unstable."
"He did not merely wish to control me with the Imperius Curse."
"That sort of control could sometimes appear unnatural and easily expose itself."
"What he truly wanted was for me to submit willingly from the bottom of my heart."
"So he used the Cruciatus Curse to torture me."
"That was pain beyond imagination."
Crouch spoke about it almost casually.
"Many people driven mad by the Cruciatus Curse never recover."
"For a period of time, I also lost the ability to think rationally."
"But my instincts… and what little conscience I still possessed…"
"Both told me that if I wished to stop this disaster, there was only one person I could seek."
"Dumbledore."
"He was the only wizard capable of opposing the Dark Lord."
"So I wandered all the way to Hogwarts."
"My hair was a mess."
"My face was filthy."
"Very few people could even recognize me."
Among the audience, Hermione Granger had been silently listening the entire time.
Suddenly, she lowered her head in thought.
Then her eyes flashed sharply with realization.
She abruptly stood up.
"Then… did you really attack Viktor Krum?"
Her question rang clearly through the hall.
Viktor Krum widened his eyes instantly.
He too had been thinking nonstop throughout the confession.
If everything this man said was true—
Then perhaps the attack truly had been accidental.
After all…
No one could reasonably argue with someone who had nearly gone insane.
And judging from everything he had endured—
His story was undeniably tragic.