Author Note: Beta read by ElvishPenguin12. All other mistakes are ours.

Chapter 2: Breaking the Defenses

"Stupid, Rose," she muttered. "This is being completely and quite utterly stupid."

Rose's footsteps echoed as she walked down the quiet corridor. A stolen key was clutched in her hand. The occasional moans from other prisoners joined her footsteps in a cacophony of sounds. She nibbled on her lip while wiping the sweaty palm of her left hand on her jeans, feeling very anxious about how their conversation was going to proceed.

She could almost see his scowling expression, snarling at her, telling her she was nothing and that he didn't need her. Rose flinched and shook herself. She was a Hufflepuff...but that wouldn't stop her from being brave.

She found him huddled in the same corner, his back hunched over and his knees drawn tight to his chest.

"Hello," she said as she reached his cell.

In a slow, wary motion, he raised his tired yet sharp eyes to meet hers. They were so full of misery and suffering that it made Rose almost cringe with sympathy. The rags the Azkaban guards called clothes were tightly pulled against his body.

He rolled his eyes at her as she settled down in front of his cell and growled out, "You again? Don't you have anything better to do than to irritate me?"

Rose ignored his scorching remark.

"Look," she muttered in a low tone, careful not to wake the prisoner across from Barty - a shaking body wrapped in a new uniform. He must have been brought in recently. She glanced up at the plaque decorating the cell bars which confirmed her suspicion that the man, Sirius Black, had been moved into a higher security level ward last night. Turning back to Barty Crouch she said, "I just came to apologise for slapping you, yeah? I shouldn't have hit you, that wasn't right. So..." she fumbled with her fingers, "I'm sorry."

Bemusement flashed in his eyes, and Rose smiled, glad that she had managed to get a reaction, something other than a scowl or an eye-roll. A sort of awkward silence descended upon them, and Rose bit her tongue. She had questions upon questions threatening to burst out. To get to know him better. To understand him.

Yet, the reproachful expression he was giving her almost convinced her to leave. Perhaps he thought she was just a little girl seeking attention. She scowled and stood up, dusting her jeans in the process.

He should be bothered, annoyed even, that she had come back. Yet, a small part of him was grateful that she decided to come. He swore he was nearing the brink of insanity. The chorus of constant groans and screams clawed at his ears. His daily visits from Dementors left him in a state of broken despair. He even begged for his mother on some nights, the memory of her gave him only slight comfort. She was the only one who had ever cared for him.

Now, this girl stood in front of him. The only pleasant sight he'd seen in days. Her brown eyes were full of innocence and youth, a look he wished he once had. It was through her that he could somewhat forget the squalid, dejected setting in which he was caged.

Before he could stop himself, his mouth opened and words spilled out of his lips. "Well, since you apologized…" He knew he was going to regret this. Rose turned around and her hazel eyes stared at him, doubtful of his intent. "I suppose you could talk to me for a little while. To…I don't know…appease yourself with my company."

Despite his arrogance, Rose could feel that this was not an invitation, it was a request. The man was still lonely, like she had sensed from the beginning. She was reminded of why she wanted to talk to him in the first place. He still needed someone – someone to show him the way out of the labyrinth of pain and suffering.

"Alright, good."

"Good."

"So...um...what do you want to-"

"No, no, no," he shook his head, "I said you can appease yourself, meaning you can talk to me while I 'listen'. That doesn't mean I'm going to respond.

She fought hard with the natural instinct that compelled her to lash out at him.

"Ok, then," she said through gritted teeth. "How 'bout I tell you about my day."

She told him of her regular routine before arriving at Azkaban. She told him she ate pancakes for breakfast and her talks with her mum. She told him she went shopping for a bit with her mate, Shareen, before coming back home for lunch. She told him she had a cuppa and almost burned her fingers on the stove trying to make it. It was boring, ordinary stuff that she knew would be utter torture listening to - especially for him. Yet, the man didn't speak a word. It was like he was taking in everything she was saying and picturing it all in his mind.

That's what it was, Rose thought. Through her, he was seeing the outside world. He wanted to reminisce the free life instead of being trapped in this hell hole. In his mind, he could be free.

Thus, she continued. Her voice stood out from the chorus of moans like birdsong in the city's raucous atmosphere - natural and sweet.

Rose wandered down the hallway, a pear clutched between her hands. She'd managed to sneak into Azkaban with it by hiding it under her Union Jack shirt. She had been visiting Barty Crouch, Jr. for the past seven days. There was something about that man towards which Rose felt an odd… pull, especially when she was in his proximity.

Barty was sitting next to the cell door. His head was tucked into the corner, eyes closed as he slept. Rose slowly sat down, so as not to wake him, and mirrored his position against the other side of the cell door.

He looked peaceful in his sleep - and Rose rolled her eyes at the cliché. Nevertheless, it was true. His almost-permanent scowl was gone, making him look much more approachable than usual. His matted hair lay flattened upon his head, no longer bouncy and looking much like Professor Snape's. His face, however, looked a bit healthier than it had before. There was a pleasant pink tinge in the hollow cheeks, making Rose wonder what he was dreaming about.

She was about to call his name to wake him when his eyes fluttered open and focused on her. She let out a meek 'hello'. His face, however, remained impassive, although his eyes examined her figure. When his eyes rested on the pear still clutched in her hands his countenance twisted into utter hate. Rose blinked in surprise to his aversive demeanor.

She offered the pear to him, he continued scowling.

"Pears...Why the bloody hell did you get me a pear?" he spat. "They're disgusting."

She returned his expression with a challenging glare. Her hands went to her hips and her lips drew into a tight, thin line. "Honestly, the effort I went through to get this to you was difficult enough. You being picky isn't helping. A good 'thank you' should suffice quite nicely."

"Thank you?" He snorted while his tongue flicked out between his lips. "Why would I give my appreciation to a lowly mudblood such as yourself? And you've given me that loathsome food, no I can't even call it food. It's poison."

She could feel her face heating up and her eyes narrowed. "You can be such a child! It's food and you're starving! So eat it!"

When his eyes met hers again, she was pleased to notice some surprise in them. So far, she hadn't been getting much of a response from him, not emotion-wise anyway. It was as if something between them was stopping them from becoming friends. Like a barrier separating them. There was that small voice in her head that told her the reason: she was a half-blood and he was a prejudiced pureblood. It was uncertain for a friendship to even form between them - yet she still hoped.

"Fine. Give me the stupid pear."

She gave him a triumphant smile and slipped the pear between the two bars. Barty grasped it with slightly trembling fingers, an action which betrayed how weak he really was. Rose, for his own dignity, pretended not to notice and he, to spare himself a pity-filled motivational speech, averted his eyes, as if he hadn't seen that she noticed.

After a few moments of silence, his eyes swung back to meet hers and the corner of his lip tugged up. It wasn't a huge, emotional gesture, but Rose knew how to recognize a 'thank you' when she saw one.

His lips had settled upon the base of the pear when an unnatural cold invaded her senses. She shivered as the cold bit deeper and deeper into her flesh. Then, around the corner, gliding noiselessly, came a slithering, soulless creature.

A Dementor, the surrounding thick, black darkness made itself visible. The creature was repugnant, not only because of its black cloak and its scabbed, rotting hands, but also because of the despair and sadness that took immediate control over her thoughts. Could it sense fear in the vicinity? Rose was sure of it: It seemed to be coming in a rapid pace now, taking those dragging, rattling breaths she detested. Tasting despair on the air. Closing in.

Her face drained of blood and she could feel her pulse quicken.

The prisoners in the cells around them started waking, some because of the shivering cold, others because in one sudden moment, all their positive memories were gone, leaving nothing but desperation in their now hollow minds. Some cried out, others just sobbed quietly to themselves. A jab into her ribs threw her into action and she swiveled her head, only to see a still-lucid Barty. His face was twisted into that of pain as old memories were dragged to the forefront of his mind.

"Rose! Wand." He hissed through clenched teeth, the vein near his temple pulsed.

Rose blinked at him as those intense dark eyes bore into her. The very urgency and pain in them caused her to take action. She saw a hint of plea for trust in his eyes. Did Barty know a spell which could stop the Dementors? There was one, she was sure of it. Her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook had spoken of it, but it wasn't something she'd yet learned. With a flick of her wrist, her wand fell out of its concealed wand holster and into her hand. She fumbled with the magical stick. Her fingers were trembling horribly and she couldn't concentrate.

The Dementor continued to glide towards her at a frightening rate.

She was barely conscious of what she was doing but in that one moment, all she wanted was to remember her memories. The good ones, the happy ones.

She wanted to feel warmth again.

She felt hot tears streaming down her cheeks as anguish overcame her. Rose thrust her hand out and slipped the wand into Barty's own, suddenly trusting him - a criminal - more than she had anyone in her whole life.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted.

A few moments ticked by - Rose didn't know how long, to her it felt like an eternity. Through her wet lashes, in a bolt of light, she saw the form of a white, whispy wolf majestically sprout from the wand. It leapt towards the Dementor with determination and bravery. The dark-cloaked creature let out a shrill cry and fled. The wolf, which Rose had now identified as a Patronus, charged after it.

The moment they rounded the corner, Rose let herself slump against the wall, feeling empty and defeated, as if every ounce of energy had left her. She closed her eyes, and threw her head back, which made a painful contact with the greasy wall. At this moment, however, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

In a tentative demeanor, she opened her eyes and turned to look at her savior. Barty was tense. His whole body had stiffened and with his left hand, he was clutching a cell bar, as if to stabilize himself. His other hand was still grasping her wand so hard his knuckles were white. Barty was staring down the hallway, as if willing his Patronus to come back. His expression was equally tense, but he seemed surprised, confused. His brow furrowed deeper as he stared down at her wand.

"Curious," he muttered under his breath. "It wasn't a wolf before…" he trailed off mumbling.

"Barty?" she asked in a hushed tone, ignoring the muffled sounds of the prisoners recovering around them. Was this a daily occurrence? No wonder the prisoners went mad the instant they moved into the prison. Barty ignored her. Instead, his tongue flicked out in a neurotic gesture. "Barty!" Rose said a little louder and winced as her voice echoed down the hall.

His gaze darted towards her, eyes suddenly focused. His eyes flickered down to the hand still clutching the wand and he jerked it upwards. For a moment, Rose thought he was going to point it at her, but instead he held his palm out. Rose gingerly took it back and strapped it into her wand holster. When she turned to look at him, he was staring at her with an incomprehensible expression on his face.

"Thank you," she said, breaking the silence between them. A gentle smile settled on her face, masking the nervousness behind it. She still felt cold, as if she'd been wandering outside in the icy-cold rain for hours.

He tugged at his ear in an attempt to look casual, but Rose noticed his hand was trembling. Nevertheless, his hand reached for the abandoned pear lying on the floor of the cell and he bit into it, a grimace of dislike flitted crossing his face.

"Thank you," Barty said after a long pause, "for trusting me."

Rose was hesitant at first, but followed through with her action. She bent forward, placing her face between the bars and kissed him on the cheek in a gesture of gratitude. She made a swift turn and dashed off. If she stayed any longer, she would have seen his expression.

Barty stayed in that position for what seemed like ages before hesitantly raising a hand to his cheek and touching the spot Rose had kissed. It was there, in the dark, moldy cell, that for the first time in a long time, he smiled.