Father and Son

Perhaps only at this moment did Harry finally understand why people called Voldemort the most evil wizard in history, why they feared him so much they did not even dare speak his name.

Voldemort could easily have taken Old Barty Crouch's life directly, but he did not. He wanted to torment his mind, trample his dignity, and then take his life in a way a hundred times crueler than Avada Kedavra. In doing so, he wanted to prove to his followers that the renowned Old Barty Crouch was nothing more than livestock whose life and death lay in his hands, and that any wizard who dared resist him would meet an extremely miserable end.

And the intimidation this created was indeed extraordinarily effective.

The fear etched almost into their souls immediately churned within many of the Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy was one of them, though there were also Death Eaters whose excitement and worship showed plainly on their faces.

"Come, my dear father!"

Barty Crouch Jr. pulled his wand from his pocket and threw it at Old Barty's face after Voldemort set him down. The wand rolled across the ground. He excitedly licked his lips, revealing a cruel, eager smile.

"Come on, let's duel. Oh, this is the first time, isn't it? Of course, it will also be the last. You know you're going to die, don't you? But your death will let me regain my sacrifice. At last, I'll be free of the shame your blood has imposed upon me!"

The Death Eaters scattered with a rustle, clearing a wide circle around them. They all knew Barty Crouch Jr. was a madman, and they feared being caught in his magic.

The Crouch father and son. Harry looked at them, and even his numb heart was once again flooded with