Barty Jr. had traces of the Imperius Curse on him, but that wasn't a big deal for Cohen—once Cohen sucked out the person's soul, no matter what curse it was, it'd be completely useless.
[Soul Strength: 33]
Cohen moved closer to the unconscious Barty Jr. The Dentor's form gradually materialized from the air, and it removed its hood, starting to suck the person's soul from across the space.
Good thing I don't have to go mouth-to-mouth like the other Dentors...
But what Cohen didn't expect was that when he took the first gulp, it felt like he wasn't sucking out Barty Jr.'s soul, but rather the Imperius Curse on him.
Barty Jr. let out a startled gasp and suddenly opened his eyes, which had been almost completely closed.
The first thing he saw when he looked up was Cohen—so bad mories about Dentors flooded his mind.
But what he found even stranger was... why was a Dentor here?
Had the old geezer kicked the bucket? So the Ministry of Magic sent these Dentors to "kiss" him?
No, that's not right...
Barty Jr.'s mind was racing—in the outside world, he should already be dead because his mother had swapped identities with him. Even if old Barty had died, the Ministry wouldn't search the Crouch family dungeon.
So there was only one possibility...
The Dark Lord had returned, killed that stupid old coot Barty Crouch Sr., and sent a Dentor to rescue the Dark Lord's most loyal servant...
Thinking of this, an uncontrollable, crazy smile spread across Barty Jr.'s face.
...
Barty Jr. was having a field day in his head, but Cohen wasn't.
From Cohen's perspective, the soul he was about to eat suddenly started giggling like a maniac—just like in a horror movie, trying to scare the Dentor, huh?
"The Master sent you to rescue , didn't he?" Barty Jr. asked Cohen in a hoarse voice, completely unconcerned by Cohen's terrifying, unhooded Dentor face.
"Pretty good guess," Cohen complinted.
"Quick, get out of here—I'm finally going to be free!" Barty Jr. said excitedly—he was generating a lot of happiness, and that sweet emotion made Cohen take a few more sips.
No wonder Dentors were so fond of high-ranking Death Eaters—they don't usually produce much soul, but as soon as Voldemort is ntioned, their happy emotions just surge.
A fully automatic happiness farming machine.
But there was no ti to waste. Old Barty should realize the Imperius Curse was gone very soon.
Right now, old Barty should already be on his way down.
"Hang tight, I'll take you to et Voldemort right away," Cohen promised.
Cohen wasn't lying; he was indeed going to et Voldemort—Cohen just didn't specify which Voldemort.
The Voldemort fragnts already digested in Cohen's stomach were also Voldemort!
Barty Jr. closed his eyes, imagining the scene where he would be free and receive Voldemort's highest reward—
But the next second, a terrifying suction from his soul made him suddenly open his eyes.
But it was too late; his soul had already been sucked out of his body by Cohen and swallowed in one gulp.
Now, Barty Jr.'s body was nothing more than an empty shell.
Cohen unlocked the chains binding Barty Jr. The next thing to do was wait for old Barty to co down.
At the sa ti, old Barty, sensing that the Imperius Curse had worn off, hurriedly shuffled down the stairs from outside the basent in his slippers.
When he saw such a large Dentor in the cell, he froze completely.
Confusion, fear, anger... a storm of emotions erupted in Old Crouch's mind.
Why was a Dentor in his house? Why hadn't the spells outside worked?
And... why would a Dentor suddenly break into his basent in the middle of the night—targeting soone who should have been dead already?
"Expecto Patronum!"
A falcon-shaped Patronus shot from the tip of Crouch's wand, but Cohen, who had anticipated this, certainly wouldn't flee imdiately because of the Patronus's attempt to drive him away. Cohen grabbed Barty Jr., who was no longer bound by chains, intending to leave with the empty shell under the pressure of the repulsive Patronus.
Old Crouch certainly couldn't let Cohen leave Crouch Manor with his son—heaven knows what trouble the news of "Barty Crouch Jr. being discovered by a Dentor in Crouch Manor" would cause him.
So old Barty imdiately stopped attacking, waved his wand to close the cell door, and lit the tip of his wand, the light shining on Old Crouch's pale face.
"Stop, you can't leave right now—" Old Crouch's first reaction wasn't to check on his son's condition, but to imdiately start pretending as if he had absolutely no idea why Barty Jr. would appear in the basent of his house. "He... wasn't he dead? Why is he here? Did you bring him here? You should be chasing Sirius Black right now, why are you carrying a prisoner from over a decade ago?"
Seriously, old man, are you really going to fra a Dentor like that?!
But Cohen didn't say anything—Dentors weren't supposed to talk anyway.
After taking a few deep breaths, old Crouch noticed that the Dentor in front of him hadn't attacked him—he wasn't sure if Dentors had the habit of not imdiately eating after just feeding, but looking at Barty Jr.'s condition, still dazed even without the Imperius Curse...
His son had already been "kissed" by this Dentor.
Cohen could clearly sense so fleeting "anger" and "sadness" around old Crouch, but they quickly disappeared.
"It seems I've already dealt with this prisoner," old Crouch said, regaining his usual cold indifference and calmness. "Although I don't know why you people at Azkaban can let two prisoners escape, at least this ti you've made up for your mistakes and helped find him."
What do you an, "I've dealt with this prisoner"?
Cohen's evaluation of Crouch's "hypocrisy" went up another notch.
Good thing Dentors can't talk, otherwise this guy wouldn't be so brazenly lying through his teeth.
And good thing Dentors can't die, otherwise old Crouch might have tried to silence Cohen as well.
But thankfully, everything was developing in the direction Cohen had hoped for—Cohen wanted the news of Barty Jr.'s death to spread again, so he could explain to Voldemort that old Crouch had killed his own son.
"Co back to the Ministry with , and I'll explain everything you've done to the Auror Office," old Crouch said. "As for him..."
He looked at his son, his eyes cold, as if those "confession letters" in the attic weren't written by him at all.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light, and Barty Crouch Jr.'s body, after more than a decade of tornt, finally died at his father's hand.
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