Dark Mark

Chapter 1

The skies over Azkaban were an air traffic controller's worst nightmare. Dementors were fleeing, leaving their posts in the middle of the night, taking to the sky as the Morsmordre filled the heavens with its acid green glow. Somewhere enchanted fireworks were being fired off, streaking across the clouds like errant curses, occasionally hitting a broom or setting a sizzle to a Dementor's tattered robe; Wizards were criss-crossing crazily through the sky above the Common Grounds shouting jinxes and hexes from atop their brooms at the prison staff below.

It was mayhem.

And Bartemius Crouch Jr. loved it.

The Dementors were leaving. That could mean only one thing: they were joining Voldemort. Barty pulled himself further up, pushing his face hard against the bars of his cell window, trying to see it all. This was history being made. The war was coming, every living thing in the Wizarding world was choosing sides for the battle, and if he played his cards right, he would be a free man tonight. He let go of the bars and let himself fall onto the tattered cot he'd been sleeping on for the last several months, scratching absently at his forearm. It had begun aching just about the time the fireworks started going off. He pulled his sleeve up to reveal the Dark Mark, his pride and joy, moving across his flesh like a snake.

Yes, tonight he would be free. Pure luck had kept him from the Dementors' Kiss when he was arrested, but his luck wasn't going to keep him alive much longer in this place without some sort of intervention from the outside. This was it, it had to be...the Master had found a way to get him out. A deal had been struck with the Dementors, and now there were no guards---at least none worth fearing---and Barty was going to walk out, a free man once again. The Wizards he could deal with.

He listened to the sounds of mayhem from the courtyard and smiled.

First thing I do is kill that insufferable little kid, the one with the scar, like I should have done at the World Cup.

Yes, that was a happy thought, a happy one indeed. An even happier idea struck him then, one that sent a warm feeling through the front of his trousers before it even reached his face as a twisted grin.

And all those lovely little girls at Hogwarts...

So much to do, so many priorities to set...kill the brat first, or claim his harem?

Barty Crouch Jr. was not only a happy man, he was about to be a very busy one.

------------------------------------------