Dark Mark

Chapter 5

Hermione took a step backwards, running over the odds of escape in her head as she mentally tallied the number of steps to the front door and calculated how long it would take to make them.

Her odds would be better if the man with the hair wasn't standing between her and the only quick bailout route out of the house.

"Are you an escaped prisoner?" she asked, trying to make her voice as non-accusatory as possible. "I mean, did you get out of Azkaban, recently...?"

The man seemed to be perusing this, his brow furrowed as if in deep thought; when he brought his eyes back to Hermione's, his face had broken into a wide grin.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did---got my walking papers just two days ago, did a hop a skip and a jump and now here I am."

He had stepped into a shaft of moonlight and Hermione could see his face more clearly. Her breath caught in her throat and she slapped her hand over her mouth to contain the shriek that almost slipped out when she realized why this man seemed so vaguely familiar to her.

"I know you," she stammered, backing away slowly. "You're that man---you're---"

Huge grin.

"Barty Crouch Jr., at your service."

The man took a bow.

Hermione was in shock.

"But you....you...you were..."

"Railroaded? Locked away to rot? Victim of a serious miscarriage of justice?"

"Sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss!"

"Ahh, that. Yes, that was me. Technicality got me off, the buggers stopped doing that sort of thing just about the time I was being buttered up for the smacker. Instead I was LEFT TO ROT!!"

His vicious tone took Hermione off guard and she stumbled backward, tripping on the tail of her scarf. Crouch continued his tirade.

"Unfortunate really, that---the first prospect of a kiss I'd had in ages." He seemed regretful for a moment, staring off into nothing. "SO I thought I'd take a little time off, see the countryside, maybe pay Hogwarts a quick visit and settle up some old debts before I go on longterm walkabout. This was my way in...and what do you know, I run into an old friend before I even get there. Aren't I the lucky one."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"And how exactly do you know about the Shrieking Shack?" she asked, puzzled.

Crouch looked genuinely insulted.

"Any fifth year worth his salt knows about the Shrieking Shack," he retorted, eyes rolling. "Let me guess, you thought you and your little friends were the only ones smart enough to figure out a quick route into and out of the castle? Hmmm?"

Hermione had no response; she had actually thought they were the only ones who knew, aside from the Weasley twins and, of course, the Marauders themselves. Crouch was staring at her incredulously.

"Arrogant little twerp aren't you?"

"Hey! There's no call to get offensive!"

"Oh, feelings easily hurt eh? Then get a clue little missy, and figure out what's about to happen here if you're so bleedin' smart!"

Hermione noticed with alarm that Crouch, aside from growing more and more agitated by the minute, was now advancing on her with a wicked glint in his dark eyes. His wand was half drawn, raised just enough to be called into quick action, but it wasn't the wand that caught her attention...it was the suspicious bulge in the front of his trousers. She eyed it nervously, backing away slowly.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well let's see...I've just escaped from Azkaban, murdered two or three innocent people in the process, travelled halfway 'cross the country via various means, am a murderous RAVING lunatic non-reformed convict...and now here I stand, quite alone in a dark and lonely place, with just you to keep me company."

Hermione was beginning to understand.

"If you're thinking of killing me, my friends will be looking for me---"

Barty grinned wickedly, the pale moonglow casting eerie shadows across his gaunt features.

"Oh no missy. I won't be killing you...yet."


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