by my side¹ - d. malfoy

Twenty-Two

MR. CROUCH looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched, and he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His usually neat hair and mustache needed a wash and a trim.

His strange appearance was nothing compared to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see.

"Wasn't he a judge?" Viktor asked, staring at Mr. Crouch. "Isn't he with your Ministry?"

"The British one, yeah," Laura nodded. She slowly walked towards Mr. Crouch, who did not look at her but continued to talk to a nearby tree.

"...And when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students attending the tournament. Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve..."

"Mr. Crouch?" Laura said cautiously, walking over slightly.

"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime... She might want to up the number of students she's bringing. Now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen... do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..."

Mr. Crouch's eyes were bulging. He stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. He then staggered sideways and fell to his knees.

"Mr. Crouch?" Laura said loudly. "Are you alright?"

Crouch's eyes were rolling in his head. Laura turned to look at Viktor, who had followed her into the trees and looked down at Crouch in alam.

"What is wrong with him?"

"I have no idea," Laura muttered. "Listen, we need to go get someone-"

"Dumbledore!" Mr. Crouch gasped. He reached out and seized a handful of Laura's robes, dragging her closer, though his eyes were staring over Laura's head. "I need... see... Dumbledore..."

"Okay," Laura said calmly. However, her eyes were wide, "if you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the—"

"I've done... stupid... thing..." Mr. Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle slid down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a tremendous effort. "Must... Tell... Dumbledore..."

"Get up, Mr. Crouch," Laura said clearly. "Get up, and we'll get you to Dumbledore."

Mr. Crouch's eyes rolled forward onto Laura.

"Who... you?" he whispered.

"I'm a student at the school," Laura said, glancing back to try and get some help from Viktor, but Viktor was hanging back, looking extremely nervous.

"You're not... his?" Crouch whispered, his mouth sagging.

"No," Laura had no idea what Crouch was going on about.

"Dumbledore's?"

"That's right."

Crouch was pulling her closer; Laura tried to loosen his grip on her robes, but his grip was too tight.

"Warn... Dumbledore..."

"I'll go get him if you let go of me," Laura said, giving Viktor a warning look as she was unsure what to do.

"Thank you, Weatherby. When you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will arrive shortly; we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."

Crouch was once again talking to a tree. He seemed unaware that Laura and Viktor were there, which surprised Laura so much that she didn't notice that Crouch had released her.