Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The darkness wasn't comforting. It pulsed around Sirius in waves of fear. Which lessened considerably, as a couple aurors in the dim silvery light of their patronuses came closer. 'Maybe they came to take me out of here?' The flicker of hope at that thought was a rare feeling, which Sirius relished in while it lasted. The doors of the empty cell next to him opened, and something was thrown inside with a thud. Sirius sat unmoving, watching the aurors as they left. Not for him after all. Why would they? Peter framed him well and he was doomed to rot in this hellhole for all eternity…

When the patronuses disappeared from view and the cold despair came back, Sirius transformed into a dog. It was easier that way, his thoughts became simpler and the Dementors didn't influence him as much. He spent most of the time in his amimagus form, transforming only when aurors came near and when he slept - in case the aurors came.

Now Sirius could smell a human in the cell near him. Oh. New person. Probably a death eater. After the fall of Voldy, a lot of the death eaters got caught. 

Said person reeked of blood. Probably lying there, unconscious. Sirius padded closer to the smell, to investigate, and bumped into an iron bar. Ouch. The gap between that bar and the next one was wide enough for the thin shabby black dog to slip through. The azkaban cells haven't been repaired in years. Why would they waste time on something pointless? Nobody could escape the prison, because none of the prisoners thought a successful outcome was possible. Dementors robbed them of any happy thoughts or hopes, and that was enough of a security measure.

***

Everything hurt. It was cold, dark and depressing, and Barty curled deeper into himself, hoping this is just a dream and he will wake up in the sunlight streaming from his, Evan's and Dorcas’ tiny shared flat. But no. It wasn't a dream. Bartemius Crouch Jr was in Azkaban.

When Barty opened his eyes, he noticed a large dark furry shadow was snuggled up to him. How dare it? The young Crouch poked the shadow apathetically, his annoyance mild compared to the crushing despair. The furry thing twitched.

"What are you?" Barty asked, voice hoarse. He cautiously stretched his limbs out, wincing. The aurors felt obligated to beat up the evil-evil death eater before escorting him to his cell, so Crouch Jr was bruised all over. The shaggy shadow next to him shifted too, revealing bright shiny eyes and a wet nose. A dog. 

"Oh, hey buddy," Barty smiled at it. It was surprising he could still smile with the dementors lurking near. He raised his hand and petted the dog, closing his eyes. Barty was tired. So tired.

The dog nudged Barty with his nose and so he opened his eyes again. "Yeah?" Interpreting the animal's expression as concern, he replied. "I'm not dead. So, no need to worry. Dementors aren't the worst thing I endured."

The dog whined quietly and laid back down next to Barty. Crouch ran his fingers through the tangled fur again and again, pushing the heavy feeling of sadness away. Just a couple more days, and then maybe his mom would come visit. The flicker of hope that thought brought died out quickly under the dementors' influence.

Chapter Text

Once Sirius checked if the death eater was alive, he went back to his cell and waited for the food to arrive. Aurors were extremely unwilling to walk around with Dementors in such close proximity, so the food usually flew right up to the cell, carried by magic. Most prisoners didn't eat anyway. Sirius, however, did not want to die. He transformed back and took a bite out of the slice of bread when the metal plate came to a halt against the stone floor. Eating was easier as a human. 

The death eater came back to consciousness, shuffling around. Sirius could hear that, and he pointedly ignored him. Now the transformations will probably be harder to pull off, the guy could rat him out. Although Sirius is already done for life, what does it matter if they give him 1 more year for being unregistered. 

The lighting in the cells was dim, enough to see something, but casting deep shadows effectively. As if the architects wanted it to be as dramatic as possible. The shadow that must have been that death eater stilled against the nearest wall.

“Hey?” Sirius flinched at the sound of the man’s voice. “What’s your name?”

“Depends.” Sirius replied. “What’s yours?” His voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Barty Crouch,” came the answer. “Junior.” That sounded awfully familiar. 

“What are you in for?”

“Tell me your name first. Play fair, pal.”

“Sirius.”

“Black? Famous brutal murderer?”

“Yeah, that's me,” Sirius said darkly, remembering Lily and James and countless others who have lost their lives to his stupid insistence of making Peter the secret keeper. The memories hit him like a wave. Silence stretched.

“I got caught,” Barty said into the emptiness. “With Bellatrix.” He didn't sound the least bit regretful. 

“What?” Sirius snapped out of his thoughts, looking to Crouch’s dark silhouette. Definitely a death eater then. No doubt as insane as the aforementioned cousin of his.

“The Dark Lord died, but Bella decided to honour his memory once again,” Barty sighed in annoyance. “Y’know how she is. Tortured the Longbottoms half-to-death.”

The silence after that was deafening. “Frank and Alice- there's no way,” Sirius muttered quietly. Memories flashed through his mind again and he held his head in his arms, rocking back and forth. He already hated this man, one of Regulus' friends at school, now he remembered. A bunch of idiot Slytherins with dark marks on their forearms, who thought they could rule the world and paid for it dearly. Look where Regulus ended up - dead.

***

Barty watched Sirius agonise over unimportant things with an air of indifference. A few more people tortured is a rather low price to pay for Bellatrix’s capture. His mind flashed to that day. He always wondered how Dementor’s worked. They must have enhanced the bad memories, making it harder to cast the patronus. Good, working theory… If one doesn’t want to be influenced by them, could they just obliviate themselves of any bad memories?

/ Bellatrix cornered Barty when he was heading to buy some groceries in a small muggle town near London, where he lived with Evan and Dorcas. With Voldemort dead, there was one less person on his ‘to kill’ list, and he could relax for a bit. Such a break did wonders to his mental health, especially now that none of his roommates was high-strung with anxiety and a possibility of a gruesome death hanging over them. So as one did, he forgot about Bella.

“Crouch, what a pleasant surprise,” she said with a sweet smile. Her dark hair swished behind her in tight curls. Barty observed, in his Death Eater days, that Bella’s hair changed with her mood. But, even without the tell, he knew that her intent wasn’t a friendly meet-up with an ex-colleague.

“How would you like to help me with one thing?” She purred. “One last feat, to honour our master.”

Barty knew he couldn’t refuse. Bellatrix knew where he lived. “You don’t have to ask,” he grinned, taking Bellatrix’s forearm for side-apparition. His other hand stayed in his hoodie pocket. When he was only 16, he stole a ring from his father’s study that instantly alerted a ton of aurors about the whereabouts of the wearer. Barty knew it would come in handy. His thumb rested on the little stone on his index finger, as they apparated near some poor order member’s neat little cottage. /

Chapter Text

When Black transformed into a dog right in front of him, Barty thought he was going crazy. Which meant his dementor theory was faulty and he’d have to think of a new one, and he really did not want to do that. Currently he was thinking of ways to counter the dementors' influence. 

The dog curled into a dark ball on the stone floor and stared at Barty. That dog was the one he met when he first gained consciousness in his cell. Huh. Black is an animagus. That made so much sense.

“Hey buddy,” Barty grinned. “An animagus, are you? So that's why Lupin spent less time in the infirmary his last two Hogwarts years.”

The dog tilted his head, looking confused. And then scared. He transformed back into Sirius in an instant, scrambling closer. “Who else knows?” he hissed. Strange how he was ready to go back to his human form, in which Dementors influenced him, just at the mention of Lupin. Barty wasn't an animagus, so that counter wouldn't work. Pity.

“That he’s a werewolf?” Barty clarified, looking smug. “It was rather obvious, admit it.” He really was pushing it. 

Then, Black pounced on him. Transforming into a dog, through the unevenly spaced bars and then back into a human, sneering straight in Barty’s face. “Who knows?”

Barty suppressed a flinch, looking at Sirius with a refined look of boredom. “Me, Evan and Pandora Rosier, Dorcas Meadowes. None of them will rat Lupin out, they have better things to do.”

***

Sirius nodded. “Good.” He stared at Crouch menacingly a bit longer for good measure. “Let it stay that way. Or I swear- I’ll find your whole family and you’ll pay for it.”

“Who says I care about them?” Crouch scoffed. “Now will you get off me?”

With a sheepish look, Sirius moved away, transforming into a dog and trudging back to his cell. He definitely lost that one. Now the only thing to do was imagine gruesome scenarios of Remus being taken by the werewolf capture unit. As if the scenarios of Frank and Alice being tortured weren't enough.