Barty Crouch Jr. struggled to swallow the second mouthful of potion, and scorching pain exploded in his throat once again.
Along with agony that felt as if it were tearing his soul apart, the world around him turned dark and cold, and his mother's figure emerged.
He remembered it clearly. This was Azkaban. His parents had come to see him.
His mother was as thin as a skeleton, her eye sockets sunken deep, curled up in the corner. In her tear-filled eyes, there was barely any light left.
His mother held a glass bottle in her hand. At the same time, an almost identical bottle appeared in his own.
His mother's voice was faint as a thread. "Barty, drink it..."
The one who should have been in more pain was clearly his mother, yet he felt pain all over his body, especially in his chest, so painful it nearly made him pass out.
"Barty... drink it... drink it and you can leave this place." His mother comforted him gently, her expression as if she were telling him a bedtime story.
Just as his mother had never refused any of his requests, he had never refused any of hers.
He drank the potion in the glass bottle and became exactly like his mother at that moment. This was Polyjuice Potion.
His father, Old Barty Crouch, appeared, his face dark, looking like an utterly emotionless statue.
Old Barty Crouch covered him with a cloak and carried him on his back.
This was his first time...
Perhaps it was the first time his father had carried him like this. That back was stiff and cold, without the slightest trace of warmth.
Old Barty Crouch was still the same as ever. He had not taken him to heart at all, completely ignoring his already