Corruzione (A Barty Crouch Jr Fanfiction)

ONE - A stranger in the night

The sun was setting over the turreted roofs of Diagon Alley before, Darcy Selwyn, a 6th-year Slytherin girl had finished collecting all her school books for the following year. She passed wizards and witches heading home for the evening as she wound her way down the alley towards the fireplaces in place for underage witches or wizards to use if they couldn't apparate.

Darcy had a slight statue, often made to look slighter by the many books she carried around with her, she also had long white blonde hair that often got her mistaken for a Malfoy despite the fact that she had never really taken to the family, Draco being two years below her and snobbish at best. Her father, when he was alive, had always told her that if she wanted to set a good example for Slytherin, she must not associate with deatheaters, and always try her hardest. Darcy had so far succeeded at both of these.

The light was dimming so much now that she could not make out the individual cobblestones at her feet. She saw in the distance, a wizard lighting the street lamps with his wand. A way of unease settled over Darcy, she felt as though she was being watched. She drew her wand and stuffed the books she carried into her bag, she would rather have an aching shoulder with her arms free when walking at night. She slung the bag back over her shoulder, keeping her wand out. Darcy could see the end of the street ahead of her, and the grates of the fires beyond. Not much farther now. She was impatient to return home to her Great Aunt's house. Andromeda Tonks wasn't really her great aunt, no more than Ted Tonks was really her great uncle, but they had taken her in at her mother's request. After her father died, a few years ago, her mother had taken off to travel, leaving Darcy in the much more capable care of Andromeda and Ted.

Darcy squinted her eyes, there was a flash of movement ahead, a swoosh of a cloak around a corner. Had she imagined it? Or had that really been a familiar face? Darcy, against her better judgment, followed after the disappearing person. She thought she knew who it could be, but it was impossible. Darcy held her wand in front of her, taking cautious steps, nearing the corner to Knockturn Alley. She peered around it and again, disappearing around the next corner was the same cloak. Still, Darcy followed, her inquisitive nature getting the better of her.

She rounded the second corner and suddenly, two hands reached out, grabbing her and pinning her against the wall, she felt her wand being wrenched out of her hand as she tried to cast a spell, any spell to free herself, but the person was too strong. They leaned their whole body against hers, keeping her in place. "Who are you?!" The voice hissed. She tried to wriggle free but he, she knew it was a he now because of the voice, slammed her back against the wall. "Answer me!" He hissed again.

"Darcy Selwyn." She replied, trying to wriggle free again, he had pinned both of her arms. But as soon as she spoke, his weight lifted. He, however, pointed his wand at her throat, but she could breathe now.

Darcy could see him more clearly now that he wasn't so close, the dim light overhead cast long shadows onto his face. A face she recognized immediately, now that she had seen it fully. Darcy's head spun, "But you're..." She began, trailing off. He's supposed to be locked up in Azkaban.

"Yes?" A wry smile graced his lips.

"Bartemius crouch." She said with a cough, his wand was still jabbed to her throat.

'Very good, we know our criminals." He said, a sarcastic tone to his voice, he removed the wand, lowering it. "And if I'm not mistaken, you're from a family of deatheaters." It was true, the Selwyn's were known deatheaters but Darcy's father had been the first to break the chain, he vehemently rejected any association with He Who Must Not Be Named and his supporters.