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Chapter Text

November 12th, 1981

  Barty was currently weighing the cost of killing his father in a room full of Aurors, ministry officials, and Albus Dumbledore himself. It would be so much fun in the moment, watching his father collapse against the stack of papers on his desk, with nothing but a flash of green to show the onlookers what had just happened. Seeing the panic on people's faces, seeing the scattered horror, hearing the screams. Oh, the screams would be the best. It’s all Barty really has going for him anymore, even after all this, he can still make people scream if he wants to.

  How fun is that?

  But, sadly that would be a stupid idea. And while he might be bat-shit crazy now, he doesn’t like to think of himself as stupid. That would be a great offence to himself, rushing into an action without thinking of the consequences, without having a backup plan.

  No. He won't make a stupid dissension like that. No matter the temptation.

  The war is at a pause, no one has shown up to his door to send him to Azkaban yet, he just needs to play it by ear for now. 

  Hence why he is blending in. Insight is the key to success.

  Returning his gaze to the interrogation, Barty scowled as he saw Igor Kargaroth getting set up in front of his father.

  Barty never liked Kagaroth, for starters, he always looked down on him, thought that he was better just because he was older than Barty. Dickhead.

  Kargaroth also liked to think he was important. Think, is the key. He wasn’t. Even now, he was being presented in front of Barty’s father, pleading to be let out of imprisonment, by selling out the people of his supposed brotherhood. Selling out death eaters. It’s not even like Kargaroth could tell about anyone important, he was a nobody within the ranks, he didn’t know that the secrecy of identity was only for those lesser known. That there is trust and respect for all members of the inner circle. Because he isn’t in it.

  Barty is.

  So let the traitor speak, what could he even say anyway?

  “Evan Rosier.”

  The world went red.

§

December 1st, 1981

  Barty didn’t turn around when he heard the thud of the port key landing, he just continued to start off into the horizon. After feeling the look of a mad woman on his back, he acknowledged her, “Hello, Bellatrix.”

  “Barty,” she replied as he turned around, an unhinged grin spread across her face and a sadistic look in her eyes. She was excited then.

  “I take it, we found them?”

  “I found them,” Bellatrix corrected, “you were too busy on your little vacation, skipping around instead of doing your job-”

  “I’m looking for him.” Barty corrected, rising to the challenge that Bellatrix set out in front of him. Foolish, to get too angry so quickly, maybe, but who could blame him, he was emotional at the moment. “We looked all over Britain for him and found nothing, so I started checking other places.”

  "Ah yes, like the Dark Lord would ever subject himself to your sentimental dump.”

  Within a second, Barty’s wand was in his hand, a varying number of curses on the tip of his tongue, “you will not insult this place,” he said coldly, “you have no right to.”

  She laughed, amused by iced anger radiating off him. “Aw, so troubled. Missing your time here? Wanted to relive something, hmm? Well too bad, we have a job to do. Rodolphus and Rabastan are waiting for us. Let’s go.”

  She turned and headed back towards the portkey, Barty followed her, leaving the red-bricked structure; once grand, and beautiful, crumbling behind them.

§

December 16th, 1981

  Barty was in his fourth year when he first learned about dementors. Their Professor had briefly gone over some different types of dark creatures, and Barty desperately wanted to learn more. So, using his already good grades, with the promise of trying to make them even better, he gained permission to enter the restricted section of the library, he already read everything he could about magical beasts among the normal sheaves at that point.

  Apparently, dementors were only talked about behind the locked door by the far shelf filled with books on protection spells.

  They were horrible.

  Floating like ghosts, cloaked so that you couldn’t see their face, only their bony hands. Able to see all of the fear inside of you, feeding off it. Able to chill the atmosphere just by being near. Able to suck away every happy memory within you until you become a lifeless shell of yourself, only about to breathe, and have your loveless heartbeat.

  The creators quickly became one of Barty’s biggest fears. Luckily, the dementors only resided around Azkaban, it's guards. Barty was a loudmouth kid and a troublemaker, but he would never do anything bad enough to go to prison. So he would never have to worry about actually seeing one.

  At least, fourteen-year-old Barty didn’t.

  Twenty-year-old Barty didn’t have that luxury. That youthful innocence, wonder and recklessness with no consequence. No fear.

  Hands trembling, and face stained with tears, he started at the halls outside of his cell, dementors sweeping the halls.

  He wished to be fourteen again.

Chapter Text

September 1st, 1972

  Gianna Crouch had to place a hand on her son’s shoulder three times to remind him to breathe since they arrived at King’s Cross. It’s not his fault that if he didn’t find some way to expel all of the energy bubbling up in him, he was going to explode- he was allowed to be excited!

  He was finally going to Hogwarts!

  He had heard all the stories that his mum had told him growing up about the magical castle. The interesting classes, the secret passages, the student drama, the magical creatures- the energy he had from thinking about it all was boiling over the confines of his skin, spilling all over him.

  Gianna put her hand on him and told him to breathe again.

  “Are you sure you have everything you need?” She asked him again, “you didn’t leave anything at the breakfast place?”

  To celebrate his leaving for school, his mom had dragged him to an early morning breakfast at a hidden wizard B&B in London via the floo network. Gianna let Barty have whatever he wanted, (three stacks of eggy bread with an unholy amount of cinnamon on it) and then the pair, (with Barty feeling a bit sick) walked over to Kings Cross station. “I have everything mum, I know because we just carried it all the way here, don’t worry.”

  “It’s my job to worry, Tesoro,” she kissed him on the head. “Now, off you pop. You’ll miss the train if you stay with me at this rate.”

  Barty gave her one final hug goodbye before stepping onto the Hogwarts Express, turning around to wave as he made his way onto the train. Most of the students had already boarded the train and found seats, which meant that Barty likely would have a hard time trying to find an empty compartment. But that was fine! He’d rather find people his age to talk to anyway.

  He wandered through the narrow passage, looking into different compartments filled with older students until he found one with people who looked eleven. He slid the door open slightly, knocking on it to announce his presence. “Is there room for one more in here?”

  “Oh yes,” one of the two girls in the compartment replied, as the girl across from her scooched over on her seat to make room for him. Grinning, Barty sat down next to her.

  The girl sitting next to him had an interesting look in her pale blue eyes, like she was seeing the world around her in a different tone than everyone else. Pair that with her messy, wavy blonde hair and jewelry of plants Barty had never seen before in his life. It gave her the appearance of someone on the weirder side of a normality scale.

  Barty liked her already.

  The other girl across from them had a similar vibe. She had her black hair in a long french braid down her back, and was wearing a necklace with some sort of shiny crystal on it.

  “What’s your name?” She asked.

  “Barty Crouch, you?”

  “Duri Jeong,” she introduced herself.

  “Cool,” Barty replied, turning to the blonde girl beside him. “What’s your name?”

  She waited a moment, before releasing it was her turn to speak. “Oh, I’m Pandora Lovegood.”

  “Nice to meet you both.”

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  And with that, the ice was broken and the three broke out into conversation. Barty learned that Duri’s mum was Korean and immigrated to Britain with her grandparents in the 50s, and that Pandora had certain colours paired up with letters, numbers, and names (apparently when she heard his name was Barty, and saw sage green). In turn, they learned that sugar calmed Barty down instead of railing him up like it did with other kids, and that he used to have a habit of keeping animals he found in the wild as pets hidden in his room until his mum would find them and make Barty put them back where they came from. The three also bonded over the fact that we’re all only children, all liked nature, and all were bilingual, (Barty spoke Italian, Pandora spoke Greek and Duri spoke Korean). Their non-stop chatter continued until Barty brought up Hogwarts houses.

  “So where do you think you’ll be sorted?” He had asked.

  “Sorted?” Duri questioned, with a head tilt.

  Pandora, who seemed to know about the houses, spoke up to explain. “It’s a system of figuring out where you’ll eat and sleep and everything. There are four houses, each with different mannerisms and themes and such, and a magical hat that tells you which one you’re supposed to go to.”

  “The houses are Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor,” Barty continued. “The sorting hat has the ability to read your mind when you wear it, so it can tell if you have the traits needed for a certain house.”

  “What traits are there?” Duri asked, still looking slightly confused.

  “Well,” Barty said, his excitement bubbling more in his voice the longer he talked about Hogwarts, thinking of all the stories his mum had told him. “Gryffindors are meant to be all brave and bold, right? Mum said that there is a real impulsive and heroic type, their animal association is a lion. Then there’s Hufflepuff- that’s my mum’s house, and they are associated with kindness and loyalty. Meant to be a really friendly type, plus apparently their dorm room is close to the kitchens which sounds awesome- they also have a badger as an animal. Next up is Ravenclaw, their house is also cool. Its animal is an eagle, not a raven for some reason, but their thing is intelligence and curiosity, so I suppose that makes up for it. Lastly is Slytherin, house of the snake, they pride themselves on their ambition and resourcefulness.” Barty took a beat to catch his breath, now that his explanation was complete. “There’s a bit more about them that I forgot but that’s the just of it all.”

  “I’m not too fond of the whole house system,” Pandora spoke up, chewing on the corner of her lip as she talked. “It’s biased separation that causes conflict through students before they even get to Hogwarts. You hear about the houses from your parents, and their views on them, which then causes you to create your own views on them. Then you apply those views on the train ride to Hogwarts while you talk to fellow students, by the time you get to the school you already have where you do and don’t want to be sorted solidified in your mind. Then you witness seven years of house-based; pride, stereotyping and discrimination. Now it’s the future, your child is getting ready to go to Hogwarts for the first time, and they already know what house they do or don’t want to go into because they have heard your opinions for years, regardless of what house traits they fit, which is another matter entirely because why would you want to have the same type of people in stereotyped groups when you could have the houses be dividers instead. Anyways, that whole hive-mind mentality is the reason why so many pure-blood, and even half-blood families are all in the same house. No one is always the same as their whole family, if the sorting was entirely based on personality, it would be a lot different in terms of a family of the same house.”

  Duri and Barty blinked at her, not expecting the rant, it was clearly something the girl was passionate about though. “That makes sense, especially the family of the same house thing.” Barty agreed, “that’s why it was such a big deal when one of the Blacks got sorted into Gryffindor last year.” Barty almost never went to any of the Sacred Twenty-Eight parties that his parents went to; his father was, to quote, ‘worried about him causing a scene and making an embarrassment of them’. And Barty never cared enough about them enough to beg to tag along, whenever one of the gatherings was at his house, his father just stood around with a bunch of other dull Ministry people and talked politics. It was boring. However, his uninvolvment doesn’t mean that he missed out on gossip.

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  “So then we won’t talk about houses,” Duri suggested, the other two looking over at her, “try to quiet as many biases as possible. Oh! And we promise that no matter what houses we all get sorted into, we will all still talk and stuff, that we won’t let any house separation separate us!”

  Pandora looked between the two of them, nodding in agreement.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Barty grinned.

  Duri held out her pinky finger. “Let’s swear it.”

  “Uh, how?”

  “Pinky promise,” Duri answers Barty’s question, “you wrap your pinky around mine and we recite the sacred vow.”

  Pandora moved first, wrapping her pinky around Duri’s, and Barty followed.

  “Now I’ll recite the oath first,” Duri started.

  “Why do I feel like I’m joining a cult?”

  “You are, it’s called friendship. Now,” Duri cleared her throat. “On my honour, I, Duri Jeong, pinky promise to remain friends with my newest companions, Barty Crouch and Pandora Lovegood, regardless of the houses we shall be sorted into, or else sentence my oathbreaker finger to be cut off.” She looked up at the other two with a cheery expression, “you gotta repeat the oath, but change out the names to fit for you.”

  Pandora and Barty took turns repeating the oath, the hold thing was very dramatic and over the top, and Barty loved every second of it. When he finished, Duri said something in Korean before separating their hands.

  The trio continued to chat until they got to the castle, going with the swarm of kids following some huge bloke with the wildest beard Barty had ever seen. He introduced himself as Hagrid and then led them to a dozen boats on a dark black lake. At the other end of that lake?

  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

  God, it was even more magnificent than Barty imagined, especially at night. It was rather foggy, so all Barty could make out from the castle was its outline, and the dotted light of the windows. It looked so ominous.

  He loved it.

  Barty spent most of the boat ride looking at the lake, wondering what kind of creatures were lurking under the surface. He heard Hogwarts had all kinds of monsters stashed away.

  They made their way across the lake, grounds, and courtyard of the school before they arrived in the great hall for the sorting ceremony. Barty knew that the ceiling of the great hall changed to different weather aspects, but seeing it was amazing, the grey clouds filtering through the enchanted sky, stars shining through. Barty wondered what spell caused that to happen. Was it always like this? Even when the founders made the school? No magic could last forever, did that mean that the teachers had to redo the spell at the end of every summer? Or was the spell so powerful that it has lasted this whole time? Who was the original caster? Why did they decide to make the roof this way? Nevertheless, it was so cool-

  “Black, Regulus!” The professor called, and Barty’s head snapped out, realizing that he hadn’t been paying attention for a while. Were they really already on the B names?

  The professor who was calling out names was standing beside a wooden stool, a long sheet of parchment in one hand and a patchy brown hat in the other. The sorting hat. Barty figured she must’ve introduced herself, but he couldn’t remember her name. Wow, he really needed to pay attention.

  Barty recognized the boy walking up to the stool, Regulus Black. He had talked to him once or twice at a Christmas party back when he used to go to them more. Naturally, that was years ago. Regulus Black looked older now, while his face still showed the youth commonly found in your typical eleven-year-old, something about the way he was staring harshly at the doors to the hall, like he was trying to set the entire room ablaze, was certainly different from what Barty remembered.

  “Slytherin!” The hat yelled out, before being lifted off his head, the boy in question walked over to the table of cheering students in green ties.

  More names got called, and Barty felt himself getting nervous, his name would be soon, and he was at the beginning of the alphabet. And sure enough, after Irene Cook got sorted into Hufflepuff, Barty heard his name.

  “Crouch, Bartemius!”

  Ugh. He heard his father’s name.

  Regardless, he walked up to the stool, hoping he appeared confident and cool. Well, as cool as one can look with the name Bartemius.

  Hmm, what’s this? A voice said in Barty’s head, oh, there is so much in here for me to look at.

  Okay, the mind-reading hat can talk. Brilliant.

  Some patience, some loyalty, but you are no Huffulpuff, Bartemius. No, you are going to become something much greater. But what would show that best, hmm? Your intelligence is something, truly something. You certainly have a way with words, don’t you. The words and their wit say Ravenclaw, but your tone and phrasing is Slytherin. You have a thirst for knowledge, for understanding, and yet you have a goal for it, and ways to get there. Ah yes, both Ravenclaw and Slytherin would treat you nicely, but which would be better…

  Barty sat on the stool awkwardly twiddling his thumbs as he listened to the mind-reading hat argue with itself.

  The hat went on like that for some while, taking situations and comparing a Slytherin vs Ravenclaw approach to them.

  In the end, he was asked a question.

  What would you do to achieve a goal?

  Barty has made many plans and goals for himself, albeit most of them with the purpose of causing a disturbance or getting to spend time with his father. The former tends to work better than the latter.

  Despite his very… outlandish personality, Barty approached his goals with a lot of logic. Firstly he would consider what he was trying to do with what he had to work with. Then, he would look at the other people involved and think about how he could… include them in his plans. After that, it was merely a means of having one or two plans at a time and following the tree branch of whichever one’s work.

  If whoever he was trying to convince, let’s say his father out of his office, then he would go about whatever seems to be working. If his father has a better attitude toward him talking about his future school plans or career plans versus his plans about quidditch, then he stops talking about quidditch. If his father’s jaw turns hard rather than remaining it’s usual stoic expression, then it was best to leave him alone and try again later. If his father was drinking a bottle of Daisyroot Draught rather than the Fire Whiskey he would usually sip on throughout the day, Barty was about to get the attention he was asking for.

  Regardless, he made his plans by playing by ear first and foremost. Whether it had to do with his father or had absolutely nothing to do with that old man.

  He played it smart, he played it cautiously, and he played with the goal of not getting caught if he didn’t want to.

  Sometimes… he did want to.

  Very investing, I feel many troubles will come to your future, Bartemius. As for the house that shall use your thinking patterns best…

  “Slytherin!” The hat bellowed, and the tension from the hat stall depended and the Slytherin table thundered an applause.

  Looking up the hat as he got lifted off his head, Barty made his way to his chair.

  Black was the only other first-year sitting at the table so far, Barty sat down across from him, reaching his hand out. “Hi, my name’s Barty,” he introduced, even though the two already vaguely knew each other.

  “Regulus,” the boy replied cautiously, shaking his hand once before releasing it.

  The rest of the sorting ceremony went on in a repetitive fashion, the lengths of students sitting on the chair varied, but none came close to Barty’s time, which an older student had told him ended up being three minutes long.

  That was until Pandora’s name got called, according to the student who told Barty his time, (apparently he likes to see the record for longest and shortest sorting every year) it took her a whole five minutes to be sorted. Watching a long sorting from an outsider’s perspective, Barty could see how steady the suspense rose, the want to see where the student causing the sorting hat such grief would end up. Only for it all to explode like a gunshot starting a race when the hat yells out a house.

  “Ravenclaw!” It said for Pandora, who headed over to join Duri, who got sorted in the same house when the J surnames were being called.

  The rest of the sorting wasn’t much more interesting, all the houses getting their fair share of students. Slytherin ended up with four new first-year girls, and one other boy besides Barty and Regulus. A bloke named Evan Rosier, another name that Barty recognized.

  Currently, the two boys were having a conversation together. From what Barty had managed to pick up, the two previously knew each other, from both gatherings and the train ride. Barty had tried to interject himself into the conversation once or twice at what he thought were excellent intervals. However, that clearly wasn’t the case for all involved as the other two either didn’t hear him or did and were choosing to ignore him. Barty couldn’t be too bothered, the three of them were going to be sharing a dorm for the next seven years, so they would have to talk to each other eventually.

  Barty gave up on trying to join the conversation, which had somehow turned to French and therefore could no longer be eavesdropped on by Barty, ergo no longer interesting. Instead, he turned to talk to the older student who was timing the sorting hat learned was named Derek Russle, a fourth year.

  “You excited for your first lessons?” Derek asked him halfway through dessert.

  “Excited?” Barty repeated, his mouth still partly full of sticky toffee pudding, “I’m full-on shaking, aren’t I? I looked over the overview to try and get a gist of what I’ll be learning and there was some really interesting stuff in there, do you know when I get to learn the Knock-back Jinx?”

  Derek looked amused, “Flipendo? Nah you don’t learn that until the second half of the year. You mainly learn simple, no-harm-humanly-possible spells in the first few months of your first year. Hell, in your first week you don’t do any magic at all, it’s all theory stuff.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m sure I can always learn stuff on my own if I don’t end up learning it in class.”

  He snorted at him. “Sure you can, man.”

  After the meal was finished, one of the prefects called out to all the Slytherin first years, instructing them to follow. He led them down the stairs, rather than up like where the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students seemed to be going. Barty managed to wave to Pandora when he saw her on the staircase before he was led out of sight.

  Originally Barty was quite worried about the grand staircase, having heard from his mother’s house that the steps would move or vanish entirely. However, the prefect leading them seemed to know how to navigate them, as he instructed them the first years to stick close and ensure that they didn’t all get split up.

  The group passed by a group of Hufflepuffs before they made their way to a blank wall of stone deep within the dungeons. Their leading prefect stopped to turn and address the group.

  “This is the entrance to our common room.” he started. “Remember where it is, and try to make sure you don’t let the other houses know its exact location.

  “Now - and this part is important so listen up - for those that don’t know, the Slytherin common room is operated via password. You say it, and the door opens. Currently, the password is Sprite, I repeat, Sprite. Please remember that. The password does change a couple of times throughout the school year, the noticeboard by the entrance will show whenever a new password is going to be used. You all will be notified two days in advance, no sooner, so be sure to check it. If you end up stuck outside the common room because you forgot the password, all I’ll do is laugh at you and make you regret embarrassing our house because you were being a forgetful scatterbrain. Now I’m done with showing you all what to do, and I’m sure you’re all tired of hearing me talk. There is a staircase by the portent of Merlin that leads to the dorms, girls go up, boys go down. That will be all.”

  He concluded as he walked over to the black couch in front of the fireplace where a bunch of older students were sitting and talking. Barty walked with the group of first years and headed down the stairs to his dorm room with Regulus Black and Evan Rosier.

  There were three green sheeted poster beds around the circular room, each complete with a walnut wood chest box and shelved nightstand. Barty recognized his luggage on one of the beds and walked over to claim it by plopping down dramatically on the mattress, head and shoulders hanging off the side.

  “You two excited for class on Monday?” He asked his dormmates, trying to strike up a conversation with them again.

  Rosier looked at him with an expression Barty couldn’t quite read, while Black walked over to his bed and shut the curtain, essentially shutting both of them out, not acknowledging withs existence.

  Well, Barty thought, what a joyful group of people.

  Somehow still more amused than frustrated by the isolation of his new dormmates, Barty decided to continue his one-way conversation with Rosier, if only to annoy him if the other refused to talk back. Barty had quite a lot of experience talking to annoy someone who preferred to pretend he didn’t exist, admittedly he had gotten rather good at it.

  “I am, although, as much as my impatience to start pains me, I like that we have the weekend before classes begin, it gives us some time to get settled in, don’t you think?”

  Rosier looked up at him, before shaking his head and going back to unpacking his trunk.

  Barty went on, “I think I’m going to spend most of tomorrow just walking around, getting a lay of the land. What will you be doing?”

  He paused again to give him a chance to respond. He didn’t, but Barty went on like he did, humming in agreement as if the quiet boy had just said something very interesting. “I see. I see. That sounds like such a nice plan. Now I’m not entirely sure what I’ll occupy myself with on Sunday, perhaps I’ll go around talking to different people, seeing if any of the older students have suggestions on good time killers. I heard that there are a lot of extracurriculars at the school, do you think any of them are good? Personally, I heard that some of them are a bit dull, but I also heard that-”

  “Merlin’s beard!” Rosier shouted, slamming his truck shut, some pyjamas clutched in his fist. “Do you ever stop talking? Clearly, I’m not in a conversing mood. Clearly, I just want to get ready for bed and head to sleep. So why are you still talking to me? Can’t you take a hint?”

  Normally in this type of situation, one would apologize for upsetting the other, claim that they didn’t realize they were in a bad mood and back off. Normally, Barty would convert to this social norm, feeling bad if the other was generally upset, (unless the other was being a proper knob and therefore deserved some pestering).

  However, Barty didn’t think before he spoke, instead just blurting out, “You say your v’s with a French accent.”

  Rosier’s eyes blazed. He stomped over the door where the bathroom was, shoving past Barty who had gotten up off his bed when the former started talking back to him. “Bloody petulant tosser,” he muttered to himself.

  “Lovely conversation!” Barty replied, before getting the bathroom door slammed in his face. He laughed to himself, then walked over to his bed to sleep, wondering what his dreams would be.

Chapter Text

September 4th, 1972

  Barty spent breakfast on Monday at the Ravenclaw table, hoping that he wouldn’t be noticed and forced to sit back at his own table by a teacher or prefect.

  The weekend ended up being busy, just like he planned. After a solid four hours of wandering, he had a basic idea of how to get in between the great hall, common room, library and owlery. He also learned the general area of where all his classes would be along with a couple of bathrooms. Unfortunately, he had yet to find anything cool, like secret passageways or hidden rooms, but he still had time. Practical findings first were important, even if it was boring.

  On Sunday he tried to talk to some of the older students in his house, most of whom thought he was some annoying little kid, (he wasn’t. He was annoying when purposeful, average height for his age adolescent), or had some sort of age-based hierarchy that they thought meant ‘I’m a couple of years older than you so you obviously have to listen to me, and respect me, and worship the bloody ground I walk on even though I haven’t done anything to deserve it other than exist longer.’

  In those situations, Barty pulled out the annoying when purposeful card. Admittedly it was rather fun, but then he got hit with an Ebublio Jinx and got trapped in a giant water bubble for half an hour before a professor let him out. After that, he dedicated himself to waiting a little while before bothering the older students again. He suspects he’ll last about five days, tops.

  For now, he’s hanging out with Duri and Pandora since Black and Rosier still aren’t talking to him.

  Currently, Duri was adding a whole bunch of ingredients and such to her porridge, muttering to herself in Korean, so he was listening to Pandora, who was ranting about Barty’s zodiac sign, (apparently, him being a Cancer meant that he was very nurturing and protective of people he cared about yet also extremely emotional- Barty honestly felt a little called out with that one).

  “What class do you have first?” Duri asked once she finished whatever she was doing to her breakfast and started eating it, looking down at the schedules they all received at the start of breakfast. “We have Charms and Transfiguration in the morning, then Double History in the afternoon.”

  “Double History on a Monday?” Barty winced, looking back at his own timetable, “no I don’t have that. Shoot, looks like I don’t have Transfiguration with you either. We do have Charms at the same time though!”

  Pandora smiled, “we’ll walk together then.”

  And so they did.

  The three of them were nearly at the Charms classroom when they heard voices from behind them, “Crouch? Why are you walking with a bunch of Ravenclaw kids?”

  Turning around, Barty spotted his dormmates walking up to them.

  “Why not?” He responded.

  Rosier looked at his friend before replying, “it’s just that houses normally don’t mix very often is all.”

  “Yeah, well, normally people who share a room also talk to each other so I guess normally can’t really mean that much,” Barty snapped, impatiently regretting it when he thought about how Rosier was clearly upset or exasperated or something the night of the feast and Barty hadn’t handled it very well. He took a deep breath, “look, Duri and Pandora are my friends. We met on the train and all agreed that the house separation thing wasn’t going to affect us all that much. I don’t really see what the big deal is. It’s not like I’m breaking any rules or anything. So-”

  “You are breaking some rules,” Black interrupted.

  “What?”

  “You are breaking some rules,” he repeated, “students are meant to sit at their own house tables during meals, but you left to go sit at the Ravenclaw table. That is not allowed.”

  “So, what? Are you gonna tell on me or somethin’?”

  “No,” he said, simply, “just correcting you. I honestly don’t care enough to tattle like some five-year-old. Now,” he gestured to the classroom door, “are you lot going to get going or at least move out of the way so that we can get to class on time? I really do not want to be late on the first day.”

  Barty looked at his friends before shrugging, and the three of them continued on their way, Black and Rosier walking behind them. All five of them were silent.

  Most awkward minute of Barty’s life.

  The Charms classroom had layered tables and benches on either side of the room, Pandora, Duri and Barty all sat together at the top near the side with the professor’s desk. Black and Rosier sat near the same area but on the bottom row.

  “What was all that about?” Duri asked him quietly when they got settled, “are those your dormmates.”

  “Yeah,” Barty replied, “it’s all-” he sighed, “I dunno. They were already in their own little bubble and didn’t like me right away, and then I did my usual ‘let’s be a brat’ thing because I saw that they didn’t like me, which made them not like me more, and it’s all- I dunno.”

  The black-haired girl looked down at the two Slytherins before looking back, “well, I hope the ice blows over soon and you all become friends. It’s important to have at least one friend in your dorm, someone you can talk to whenever, you know?”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, “say, how are your other two dormmates? You lot getting on with them?”

  “Amanda and Joyce? They are alright, they are sticking close to each other, and Pandora and I are staying close to each other. It’s…. how do I explain it?”

  “Personality conflict,” Pandora spoke up, “Duri is very midnight blue, not commonly known but has a deep understanding of what others don’t know. She’s wise, really wise.” Barty had released she moved her hand a lot when trying to understand her thoughts enough to explain to them, “Amanda is a burnt orange while Joyce is a more salmon colour. They both match really well together but not so much with us. They’re noticeable because they’re bright, like a spotlight, and they want it that way. It’s very cordial yet exclusive. They don’t seem to understand us as well as they understand each other. It unnerves them.” Pandora looked up at the both of them, chewing on the corner of her lip, nervously. “Does that make sense?”

  Duri snapped her fingers, “yes, that. That explanation right there, it’s a personality conflict.”

  The conversation got cut off as the Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick, called the class to attention, ready for the lesson to begin.

§

  Derek was right when he said that they wouldn’t be doing much theory stuff in the beginning. It was all magical theory! Every class! At least in Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, they would start actually casting spells next week, but both Transfiguration and Potions said that they still had more classes for preparation and understanding before they would be ready to move onto practical.

  Barty knew that he had to be patient, that they would be learning everything soon, that theory was always needed first, and that it had only been a week and he really should calm down. But who was he kidding, the freaking sorting hat itself told him he was impatient and it was right! Barty wanted to learn something cool, something small, just to tide him over.

  So he was sitting in an empty hallway, somewhere on the seventh floor; with his copy of ‘A Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1’ in his lap, and his wand in his hand, and a simple lock on the floor, trying to learn the unlocking charm. He figured it was a safe starter spell, it was still magic, so it would give him the ability to say he learned something, yet if everything happened to go horribly wrong, he was unlikely to get hurt in the process. (The same couldn’t be true if he tried one of the many types of explosive spells he saw his book talk about.)

  Five minutes in, he learned that magic was hard.

  You would think you just wave your wand, say some words and: bam! Magic!

  Yeah, no, unfortunately. Little more to it.

  The main thing was the intention, you have to know exactly what you want to do and want to do it.

  I want to unlock this, Barty thought as he stared at the pesky lock, I really want to unlock this…. please?

  “Alohomora,” He said, pointing his wand and doing the movement the book told him to. The lock didn’t move, and Barty swore he heard it mocking him.

  “Rude,” he muttered as if it really had mocked him, before repeating his intention again and making another attempt.

  After another few minutes of nothing, he groaned, snapping his book shut and tossing it away from him, before standing up and pointing his wand threateningly at the lock. “Alright, listen up you little bugger! I do not have the energy to sit here and listen to you treat me like this, okay? It’s rude and quite frankly it’s not doing you any good, because at the end of the day, you’ll lose. You hear me? I don’t care how long it takes. I will sit here for hours if I have to, but I swear to you, you will be unlocked by the end.”

  “I think he’s trembling.”

  Barty jumped, turning around to see Evan Rosier standing a couple of feet away, hands in his pockets and an amused expression on his face, “truly, that poor lock looks scared out of its mind.”

  “Oh, um,” Barty stuttered, shuffling his feet to hide the lock behind him. “Yeah, uh, I’m really intimidating, you know? All inanimate objects quiver when in my presence,” he smiled goofy, hoping that the embarrassment wasn’t too obvious on his face, (it was), and thinking of a way to continue the conversation. There hadn’t been many times when Rosier had voluntarily talked to him first, and none so far in a friendly(?) manner. So he was determined to try and get this one right. Despite his earlier actions, he really did want to get along with his roommates. “So, what brings you to the seventh floor on a Sunday? You know it’s not gonna stay nice forever, most of the students are spending some time out in the sun.”

  “That’s why I’m inside,” he replied, walking towards Barty, “because everyone else is outside. I know Regulus is in the castle too. No idea where though.”

  Barty hummed in acknowledgement, swaying slightly.

  “You know,” Rosier spoke up again, “you have conversations with yourself a lot.”

  Barty rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah, uh, I like to talk, in case you haven’t noticed. But there wasn’t always a large selection of people to talk to, so I started talking aloud to myself, pretending that other people were replying.”

  Rosier just looked at him with a blank expression, “well what about when you’re with your Ravenclaw friends?”

  Barty smiled, “then I get the chance to talk to real people, don’t I? No more need to pretend.”

  “I- ‘' Rosier started, faltering, “look, I’m sorry, for uh, icing you out right away, not really giving you a reason why. It’s just that, my father and yours are political rivals in the Ministry, and I’ve heard some stuff about your family because of that. And since you never really went to any of the gatherings like Regulus and I, I thought that you- well I was told that you had to be the right sort of trouble. Then at the feast you just kept talking about random things the whole time, and you didn’t stop when we got to the common room even though no one was replying to you, and I had a really bad morning and I don’t really want to get into it but-” he took a deep breath, “I guess I just filed you away as being trouble to. Which I admit was rather rude of me so I’m sorry.”

  Barty stared at him in shock, not expecting that in the slightest. “Wow, um thanks for that. I see how I can come across that way.” He licked the corner of his lip, “and hey, I’m sorry too. About how I acted on the night of the feast I mean. I didn’t know that you were having a bad day and I should have picked up on that. And even so, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did when I did find out.”

  Rosier spoke with a hint of amusement back in his voice, “you said that I say my v’s with a French accent.”

  Barty cringed, “I did do that, yes. In my defence you do. Still, it was an intrusive thought that I said instead of speaking, my bad.”

  He shrugged, “it’s fine.”

  “So,” Barty said after a minute, holding out his hand, “truce?”

  Rosier smiled, and shook his hand, “a truce sounds nice.”

  “Does this mean that we’re now slightly less reluctant dormmates?”

  “I’d go as far as to say blooming acquaintances.”

  “Oh, right on!” Barty cheered, “and hey, I’ll try to not pester you if you look like you don’t want to talk from now on.”

  “Sounds good,” Rosier replied, “I’ll try and give you more chances to talk to someone who’s real.”

  Barty warmed, the feeling staying long after Rosier left the hallway. Sure, Black still wanted nothing to do with him, but at least Barty was slowly thawing the ice. It took baby steps, as much as it pained him, patience. But Barty had a feeling that both boys would end up close friends with him in the future.

  Barty looked down at the lock, still on the floor. The warm feeling was still in his chest.

  “Alohomora.”

  It opened.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

October 31, 1972

  Halloween fell on a Tuesday, so the students spent their day in class before the Halloween feast.

  While the day did drag, it was filled with chatter. Most of the students were excitedly discussing their excitement for the upcoming Halloween feast they would be having later, Barty passed by a group of muggle-born students talking about trick or treating, whatever that was, and a couple of ghosts rambling on about a death day party.

  Barty, Duri, and Pandora spent the day chattering about something else entirely.

  “What type of offerings have you done in the past?” Pandora asked during the trios final class of the day, Herbology.

  “Food, normally. It’s something that takes a lot of time and energy, which I believe shows my appreciation for their gifts well, while also not requiring me to spend a large amount of money. Making food offerings myself also allows me to personalize what I’m thanking or wishing for, or even personalize who the offering is for.” Duri explained and she patted the soil of her plant down, “I also focuses on kitchen magick in my practice so I always associate food with magick.”

  “How ya gonna cook here though?” Barty grumbled while looking through his Herbology textbook to try and find out why the leaves on his plant were wilting. “The house elves make all the food here.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” she replied. “One of the seventh years in our dorm talked about a painting near the Hufflpuff dorm that leads to the kitchen, and after a weekend of exploring, I found it. I plan to sneak down there after the feast.”

  “Do you know what you are going to make?”

  Duri looked up from her puffapod plant, which was putting Pandora and Barty’s to shame. “I’m going to make a couple of things. When I give offerings on random days, I tend to just leave them on either my indoor altar or sacred space and then collect them and throw out the remainder if it’s harmful to the environment. If not, I allow my deities to consume it through the animals in nature in which they look after. However, the days of the wheel are celebrations, so I make extra amounts to eat some of the offerings with the God and the Goddess. I mean, in your fancy dinner parties you feed both your guests and yourself, right?” Barty and Pandora nodded, “it’s the same type of thing here. I’m big on spending celebrations with people so normally I share with my mum and her coven if they come over. If not, I share it with my grandparents. They’re not Wiccan but they love my cooking.” She paused to flip through her book before adding a few drops of water to her plant. “I’m going to let out some barriers and bread for the horned god, since he is the lord of the forest I believe that offerings that the forest can consume will give him strength. I am also going to leave out a bowl of milk for the Goddess since she is strongly responsible for fertility. Milk is believed to have strong magick properties relating to that.”

  Barty scrunched up his face, “giving her milk won’t do anything bad for you, right? Like you’re not gonna have kids really young or anything because of this?”

  “Oh, no,” she replied, shaking her head, “she knows my intentions. Children are not one of them. I’m so happy I don’t have any little siblings.” She shuttered, “I’m also going to make food for the three of us.”

  “Make what?” Pandora asked again.

  “Bukkumi,” she answered, continuing when Barty and Pandora looked at her confused. “Bukkumi is a type of rice cake dumpling, but it’s really sweet because I fill it with Sweet Red Beans. I’ve made it a few times and I really liked it, you’ll enjoy it, trust me.”

  Pandora licked her lips, staring off with a hungry expression on her face.

  The three first years continued to chat to the end of the lesson, continuing during the time leading up to the Halloween feast, (which was filled with so many sweets that Barty felt like he was going to burst.) At the end of the feast, Barty got up to leave with the rest of the Slytherins when Duri walked over to him.

  “Remember, we’re meeting at the bottom of the grand staircase, by the quad.”

  “At nine, right?”

  “That’s right, bring a jacket, we’re going outside.”

  And with that she walked away. Barty, caught up in his excitement of what the Samhain celebrations would bring, didn’t notice Regulus looking at him, having heard all of what the two just said.

§

  “Where are you going?”

  Barty jumped, spinning around and spotting Regulus sitting on the end of his bed with his arms crossed.

  “What?” Barty asked, his voice cracking slightly.

  “Where are you going?” He asked again. “It’s Tuesday, it’s almost nine o’clock at night, we are meant to be staying in our dorms. Evan is going to be coming up from the common room soon.” He stood up, walking over to Barty, grey eyes filled with suspicion, “so where are you going.”

  “Um,” the back of his neck felt hot, “uh, the- bathroom! I need to use the bathroom!”

  Regulus gave him a deadpan glare, “there is a bathroom in our dorm.”

  Barty looked over to the open door to the bathroom. “Right, uh, well,” he lowered his voice, leaning towards Regulus, “I didn’t wanna say this but I’m feeling rather ill, I think it’s because of all the food at the feast. I didn’t want to get sick in our dorm toilet so I was going to find one down the hall.”

  Regulus continued to stare at him.

  Barty gave him his best pained expression, “I’m starting to think I should stop by Madam Pomfrey too, I’m feeling absolutely horrible.” He clutched his stomach and hoped he was convincing.

  “If you are feeling ill then why are you wearing a jumper and bringing your jacket?”

  Barty looked down at the jacket in his arms, lies coming to him like clockwork, “oh, I’m right well freezing,” he hastily put on his jacket, hugging it around himself for warmth, “I think I’m coming down with a cold! Must be the changing weather.”

  “You’re sweating, Crouch.”

  “The flu then!”

  Regulus didn’t look convinced, but he must’ve been because he sighed and stepped away from him. “Well, if you have the flu then you should go down to Pomfrey right away.” The tone of his voice set off ‘it’s a trap!’ alarm bells in Barty’s head, but he didn’t have time to think about it. He was running late and he really didn’t want to leave the girls waiting long.

  Nodding, he turned and sped walked up the stairs to the common room as fast as he could, hoping that no one would stop him to ask him where he was going. No one did, but Barty did notice Evan giving him a strange look as he passed.

  The pair of Ravenclaw’s were waiting at the entrance to the quad when he arrived. Pandora was wearing a white-and-purple knitted poncho with a matching hat, her brown boots had waves painted on the side. Duri was wearing a navy blue dress with long sleeves and was carrying a basket that smelt of delicious food, and holding a bowl of milk.

  Barty ran up to them, putting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Sorry I’m late,” he huffed, “dormmate was asking questions. How’d you two get away?”

  “I told them that Duri wasn’t feeling well after dinner. Since she was gone for a few hours I said I was going to check on her. I hid our clothes in a bag.”

  “Huh.”

  “Let’s go,” Duri said, her brown eyes sparkling, she was in her element. “Many blessings approach this harvest, I wish to honour them.”

  Barty offered to carry the bowl of milk as the three friends made their way through the grounds of Hogwarts. Barty didn’t know exactly where outside they were going, but Duri just kept leading them farther and farther into the grounds until they approached the Forbidden Forest.

  “Are we going in there?” Barty asked.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s against the rules,” Pandora brought up.

  “Correct.”

  Pandora and Barty looked at each other, shrugged, and walked into the woods.

  They didn’t end up going very far in, only walking through a self made path through the trees for a couple of minutes before Duri stopped and turned towards her friends. Her eyes gleamed, filled to the brim with excitement and energy.

  The patch itself was a small clearing, not too uncommon this close to the edge of the trees. Though, the size of the trees tricked the mind into thinking otherwise. What made the clearing interesting was what was around it. Old moss covered rocks were scattered around, Multiple of the trees had owl holes in them, and there was a circle of mushrooms in the middle of the clearing.

  “Don’t step in there,” Duri nodded at the circle, “It’s a faerie circle. This place is sacred and it’s quite easy to get lost in here.”

  “What’s a faerie?” Barty asked.

  “Ancient Celtic species,” she answered, as she laid out a blanket, “A part of fairy and elven branches I’m pretty sure. They’re mystical creatures and can be dangerous if you strike an uneducated deal with them. A lot of witches work with them, and their sacred spaces have a lot of powerful magickal energy. But circles like that can act like portals to bring them to you, or you to them.”

  “We’ll be safe celebrating here?” Pandora questioned, glancing around at the trees looming over the first years.

  “I’ve made sure we’re protected, don’t worry.”

  And that was that.

  The celebration was so vibrant. Barty felt like he buzzing with energy the entire time. The three of them danced together, laughing as they joined hands and spun around in circles, stumbling over their own feet. They also sang a lot. Duri had a wonderful singing voice, it was soft, and hypnotizing, changing the feel of the area with the mood of each song. She alternated languages too, sometimes singing in English, while other times in Korean. Barty had no idea what she was saying when she did, but it sounded lovely. Pandora didn’t sing, but she did hum a song, which sounded just as hypnotic. Barty wanted to sing too and settled on an Italian lullaby, Ninna Nanna del Chicco di Caffè, or The Coffee Bean Lullaby in English. The story of the song follows a child singing to their mother, saying how the mother never sleeps, even when everyone else does. The child talks about how when they grow up, they’ll buy their mom all sorts of things, so the mom can go to sleep and dream of what she wants. It also talks about seven sealed bowls at a table and how the only thing the mom has in her bowl is a coffee bean. By the end of the story, she has a proper bowl like everyone else.

  Some of the lyrics didn’t always make sense to him, but he loved the care the child had for the mom in the song. He felt like that for his own mother. Gianna Crouch was always giving, always laughing, making sure to fill Barty’s life with happiness, since she was the only one there to do so. The song was one of the ways that Barty could repay the love that his mum gave him.

  He sniffed, rubbing his eyes before they could water after finishing the song. He didn’t realize how much he missed his mum. He’d never been away from her for this long before, he couldn’t wait to see her at Christmas.

  Along with the singing and dancing, the three friends also ate a lot. The bukkumi was delicious, sweet and warm despite sitting in a basket for hours. Duri talked more about the meals she would share during previous celabrations with her family and her mums coven. She also talked more about how her cooking realated to her magick, how diffrent ingedents held diffrent energys and diffrent properties, and how she would blend thoese with intentions to make diffrent spells. He figured that was why she enjoyed their potions class so much, Barty liked it for the same reason. He helped his mum with cooking a lot at home, despite the fact that the house elf could do it, (Gianna Crouch loved to do all her own cooking.) Potions was a lot of folloing instructions, which he was good at when he chose to be, it was just the long resure into the origians and properties and harvesting methods of each ingredent he couldn’t stand. It was so boring.

  After they ate, the spread the nuts around the grove. Duri had already placed the bowl of milk in a secure knot in one of the trees, asking for a reminer to return and collect in in a few days. For the mix, they each grabed a handful of the nuts and berries, and tossed them around the forest. Duri was muttering to her deites the hold time, giving thanks or blessings or somthin’. Barty didn’t say anything while he was tossing, until he got to his final handful, pausing.

  “Help me make this year great,” he whispered to the food cluched in his fist. “Help me with being better friends with everyone, help me keep up with my classes, help me keep in touch with my Mum.” He closed his eyes, not knowing if he was talking to anyone. Hesitantly he cracked open an eye, glancing around the forbidan forest, “please, help me make memories.” And with that, he opened his eyes and tossed the final mix of nuts and berries into the moonlit night.

  It must have been well past midnight by the time the three made their way back to the castle, each of them sagging with exhaustion. Beneth it all, Barty could still feel the buzz of energy under his skin, humming. He couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face and he crept into the castle with the Ravenclaw girls. As quite as he could be, he bid them goodnight before making his way back down to the dungeon, ears straining for any sign of the caretaker, Filch, or his cat, knowing of all the stories that that older student have told about what he does to students who were found out of bed after hours. He knew most of it was probely fake, but he didn’t care to test it.

  Thankfully he didn’t have to, as he managed to creep all the way through the halls without innteruption, wondering if Filch would still be patroling at this time of night. Yawing, as the exhastion sank deeper into him, he normaly didn’t stay up this late. Rubbing his eyes, Barty walked into his dorm, immidently colasping in his bed, not even bothering to change into his pajamias. Falling asleep almost immidently, thoughts filled with songs, and food, and celabration with his friends.

  He never noticed Regulus laying awake in his bed, watching him.

Chapter Text

November 15th, 1972

  Barty didn’t like the older students. He was allowed to, because they didn’t like him either. Which in all honesty was quite rude, he never gave them any reason to dislike him!

  Okay so he may have given them a reason to dislike him, but in his difference, they started it! Acting all snobbish towards him, like they were above him, it was rude. But it had also become common, so he was learning to understand it. It was annoying but expected.

  Some older students didn’t follow this age-based hierarchy. While helpful, this just confused him.

  There were a few examples of this; a friend group of some fifth-year Ravenclaws that always seemed to have a plethora of younger students following them around. A couple in Hufflepuff who acted like parental figures to the students in their house, and the odd one who wasn’t. Even some student’s in Barty’s own house; though they only seemed to help out Slytherin students, saying that they had to look out for their own. One of the main helpers to first years such as himself was Narcissa Black, a sixth-year, and Regulus’s cousin. Barty didn’t fully know how to describe the witch. She had this sort of feeling about her, one that made her very intimidating. It’s not like she was openly cold or harsh, she was actually quite nice so long as she respected you. But Barty could tell that those who tried to cross her never tried again. Regulus hadn’t explicitly said that Barty’s assessment was correct, but in his attempt to learn the language of Regulus’s subtle expressions that he liked to communicate with as opposed to simple words, Barty just went with the thought that he was right on the money.

  The final anonymity of older students being somewhat nice to younger ones was a sixth-year Gryffindor named Alice Fortescue.

  Barty knows about the Fortescue family, any young witch or wizard with decent taste did. The family-owned the best ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. But Alice herself was a mystery. On the outside she seemed like your average do-gooder Gryffindor, ever pestering helpful. But when she jinxed a bloke so badly he spent the night in the hospital wing and managed to walk away without so much as a house point lost, let alone detention, he realized she was also dangerous. And that made him intrigued.

  In his three months so far at Hogwarts Barty had come to realize just how much he liked observing and analyzing others. Pandora said it was people-watching. Barty liked studying people, attempting to read them, and then walking up to the person in question and seeing if he was right. He liked to think he was slowly getting better at it. However when he mentioned this thought to Evan the other boy laughed and said he still had no idea what anyone was thinking. Which he supposed was partly true, he never knew what Evan was thinking.

  With Alice Fortescue, on the other hand, he liked to hope he had a better idea. From what he had observed, she was focused, far more level-headed than some of the other kids in her house, who tended to be on the more rowdy side of things. (Not that Barty had a lot of room to judge but at least he knew a time and a place.) She was also patient, if it weren’t for her red robes Barty would swear she was a Hufflepuff. The kindness she held added to this. But then there were the moments when someone would pick on a younger student, mock her quidditch abilities, or call names within her earshot, and she’d get this expression.

  He hadn’t seen her do anything toward said student right away, he assumed that was because she was normally in places where students like Barty could see her. But within a week, the student would be found badly jinxed or hexed, and often have to go to Madam Pomfrey to get sorted out. No teacher ever so much as turned a suspicious eye in her direction. But Barty could see the pattern, see similar types of spells being used, similar timings as to where the students would be found by the teachers.

  Again, intriguing.

  His observations had managed to yield many thoughts about the brunette, but they all added to a final one. Barty wanted to meet her.

  So, after his Transfiguration class, he made his way to the library in hopes of finding her. Older students tended to spend an unholy amount of time studying, Barty couldn’t imagine spending that much time on schoolwork.

  He did end up finding her there, thankfully alone, looking through some of the books on the shelves.

  With a deep breath, he walked up to her, going over what he was going to say in his head.

  “Hello.”

  She looked down at him, red hairband pushing her hair out of her face. “Hi,” her voice was friendly.

  Crap. He forgot his speech. Panicking, he just started talking. “You cursed that Nelson bloke, right? The Ravenclaw?”

  Her stance shifted, as her eyes became defensive. Wrong thing to say. “I’m not going to say anything!” He blurted, words tumbling out before he could think about them. “I just wanted to know how you did it, and how you got away with it. His face was covered in bumps and stuff. It was awesome!”

  Her stance changed, but her eyes still held up the protective wall, a hazel wall. “Well, I didn’t do anything like that.” She replied, her tone was rather convincing, “It’s a horrible thing that happened to him, I heard he was stuck in the hospital for days because Pomfrey couldn’t figure out what spell was used, and it wasn’t hurting him so it wasn’t urgent.”

  “Okay, you don’t need to pretend, I’m really not gonna tell anyone and even if I did- I’m a first year and you’re a prefect so no one’s gonna believe me. I just wanna know how you got away with it, and all the other people you jinxed too! No one ever even suspects you! It’s so bloody cool.”

  “Why do you even think it’s me? Nelson was in his common room when the warts started, I wasn’t anywhere near him.”

  “Well yeah I know that,” Barty justified, “I figured you’d know some way to delay spell effects or something, people are always in situations not related to you when they get cursed, but they all normally have tinted nails so I realized there’s a connection! What’s your secret?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about kid,” Alice replied, picking one of the books off the shelf and flicking through the pages.

  Okay so she wasn’t budging. Barty tapped his fingers against his thumb, stratigizing. He’d need a change of tactic. Admiration clearly wasn’t working, which was annoying because he’d done that when talking to other Griffindor’s and it worked.

  Time to change direction.

  “I’m sure I could figure it out alone though.” Barty tried to make his voice as sly and confident as he could, walking past the older student and walking over to a table, sitting on it as opposed to the chair. “Tinted nails can only be caused by so many things, I’m sure asking around can help with that. Especially if the teachers are some of the ones I ask. And once I figure out how you delay your jinxes I can start some rumours about how you were seen, by several eye witnesses, with several victims. I may not be able to take you down myself. But I can at least start it.”

  Alice, who was running her hand along one of the pages, suddenly slammed the book shut. “You really think it’s wise to threaten me?” Her eyes were dark.

  Barty tried to push back the urge to gulp, “Yes,” he didn’t sound convincing, “it’s not like I want any thing crazy, I just wanna learn from you.”

  “Let me make something clear,” Alice’s voice was dangerous as she returned the book to the shelf and stalked towards Barty. “I don’t do anything when forced to; not by threats, not by spells, not by pleading. I only do what I want to.”

  “And- do you want to teach me?”

  Alice in turn didn’t respond, simply walking past Barty and out of the library. Barty deflated, well at least he tried.

  “4am tomorrow,” Alice said, looking over her shoulder. “Abandoned classroom on the second floor in the west wing. Be ready, advancement isn’t easy.”

  Barty nodded enthusiastically, “I’ll be there!” He called out as the older Gryffindor walked out of the library.

§

  Barty’s brain felt fuzzy. No one was meant to be up at 4am, even someone with as much energy as him. It was a crime against nature. He didn’t even process that the older girl had set the meet up time this early, he was to focused on the fact that she actually agreed to teach him when he was so certain he was about to be cursed.

  “You always start with defensive,” Alice said, setting down her bag and starting their first lesson. “You should never cast a spell that you wouldn’t be able to block or counter if it was cast at you. What spells have you learned in class so far?”

  “Nothing interesting,” Barty grumbled, “we only learn boring spells in Charms or Transfiguration. Like how to float stuff or how to turn a match into a nettle. And my defence against the dark arts teacher keeps talking about the effects of curses but hasn’t told us anything about how to stop them.”

  Alice nodded in agreement, “yeah, this year’s Defence teacher is a coward, so that’s not surprising. Shame you weren’t here three years ago, Professor Iriak was brilliant.” Alice explained, with a weird look in her eyes that Barty didn’t recognize.

  “I did teach myself a spell though,” Barty spoke up.

  “Really? Which one?”

  “The knock back jinx. I get in a lot of trouble with some older students cus’ of my attitude. Figured it would be useful.”

  He learned it a few weeks ago, after another day of only having to listen to teachers droning on about stuff without actually teaching him anything. It has taken him ages, and he kept accidentally breaking the pots he lined up for target practice. He found them cracked or chipped in a box in one of the greenhouses, he didn’t think Professor Sprout would miss them.

  He settled on the knock back jinx after reading about it from his textbook in the dorm a couple of times when he was bored. Teachers always made them basically memorize the text before they were allowed to actually try it out, so he figured he was qualified enough. He didn’t know if that much reading was always necessary for casting, he hoped it wasn’t.

  “Knock back Jinx is a solid choice, though it is one of the more violent push-back options, so I’m going to need to evaluate your control before I can encourage you using it in any practical sense. Like I mentioned you’re also here to learn protection first. You said that you’re attitude gets you in trouble with older students, correct?”

  Barty cringed, thinking about his attitude with her the other day, he could see how she was thinking of the same thing. “Yeah, I mean most people don’t like me so I can kinda get in trouble by anyone. But I’ve only been cursed a couple times by older students who wanted me to leave them alone.”

  Alice hummed, walking over to her bag by the door and grabbing a book out of it, flipping through. “So the standard protection spell is protego, classes are gonna teach you that in a few years. Why they don’t start with it is beyond me.” She shook her head, “but it makes a literal shield, and I don’t think that’s the most useful spell for you. So, I’m going to teach you a protection charm, panoplia.”

  “Panoplia?”

  “Yes! It’s a protection charm that increases your bodies defence against jinxes. When maximized it protects against hexes too. I figured it would be best for you to have a spell that can act as armour, that way you can cast it on yourself whenever you sense trouble, whether or not you are actively planning to start it. It also means that you don’t have to worry about blocking as soon as your opponent cast a spell”

  “Okay!” Barty nodded, filled with energy, dispute the early hour, “How do I do it?”

  “They motion is simple,” Alice explained, putting down the book and taking out her wand as she stepped in front of him. “Start with your wand pointed in front of you, like how you do when starting any spell. And then sweep it up-” she demonstrated, “toward the left, circle around your head and back down from the right.” She did the motion again, a simple, fluid movement. “Since the spell is putting magic armour on you, think of the movement as covering your body in the magic, you try.”

  Barty did, feeding into the drama that the arm movement made. Most spell were just done with just a flick of the wrist, this was a lot more fun.

  “Good,” Alice nodded in approval, “the enunciation for the incantation is pan-O-plia. Try.”

  “Panoplia!” Barty shouted, with the movement, as he imagines a glittering shield covering his body.

  Then he felt it.

  “I think it worked.” Barty whispered, giving his body a once over, though nothing looked different.

  “Lets see,” and that’s all the warning he got before, “pullus!”

  Barty flinched but nothing seemed to happen. Alice, in turn, hummed, “you’re not a duck so it appears you’ve done the spell correctly.”

  “Wait that was supposed to turn me into a duck-”

  “Nevertheless, practice ensures perfection, lets try it again. Finite!”

  And they did. Over and over Barty cast the protection charm, before Alice would case a jinx, usually different ones, and if the armour held she would dispel it and have him cast it again. There were a couple of times where he failed to cast the charm properly, and he’d find himself turned into a vireos array of animals. This happened more and more and he began to feel the mental exhaustion of repetitive casting.

  “I think that’s all for today.” The brunette concluded, turning him back human from his previous form of a ferret. “Breakfast should be starting soon, and you really look like you need to get your energy up. You did really well Barty, I clearly picked a good student. Now,” she picked up her bag and started making her way towards the door, “I’ll let you know when your next lesson is. Kay? Keep up your own research in the meantime, try to learn something aggressive next, but subtle. Extremities get you detention. In a duel you need to choose your wand work wisely.”

  Barty took that in, mind filled with a thousand questions but one burned the most as he through about her switch up in the library.

  This is a mistake… screw it

  “Alice?” He asked, “Why did you agree to teach me?”

  Her eyes held a gleam, similar to the one Evan had when he watched Barty get into mischief, and was basking in it. “Because, I though it’d be fun.”

Chapter Text

December 9th, 1972

  “Winter is by far the most whimsical season.” Pandora sighed, gazing out the library window, her textbooks long forgotten on the desk. “It’s a time of secrets, don’t you think? Every snowflake is a little voice whispering to you, melting into your touch.”

  “You reckon?” Duri questioned, glancing up from her work to peer at the first snowfall in Scotland. “I do suppose it is quite peaceful. I’ve always been more partial to Autumn myself. It’s mysteries.”

  There was a pause, before Duri gently nudged Barty with her foot, pulling him into the conversation. “What’s your favourite season, Barty?”

  “Oh, spring.”

  “Why?”

  Barty shrugged, he’d never given it much thought. “Is colourful? I guess, and hopeful. It’s all about new beginnings, ya know?”

  Duri nodded in acknowledgement, before turning back to Pandora, seemingly not caring to do her work anymore and Barty turned back to his essay. He really needs to learn to stop procrastination on his work, one day the focus he’d go into when he had less than a day to complete an assignment would fail him.

  Until that day comes, however, he believes it’s a foolproof strategy.

  While concentrating on his work, the rest of the girl’s conversation seemed to fade away, as did the rest of the world. Which was why he didn’t notice when Evan and Regulus walked past their table. Pandora, on the other hand, did. She seemed to notice everything.

  “Would you like to sit down?” She questioned, gesturing to the empty seats at the table they had managed to secure before any older year could get their hands on it.

  The two boys looked at each other, seemingly communicating. Barty didn’t realize that they were close enough to do this, and tried to push down the sinking feeling in his stomach. He was a new friend to both of them, of course, he wasn’t as close. It didn’t matter, they were all friends now, and as time went on they would get closer.

  “Sure,” Evan spoke up for the pair of them as he and Regulus sat down. “What are you working on?” The blonde-haired boy inquired, leaning forward to glance at the mess of books and parchments thrown across the desk. Barty, Duri and Pandora weren’t the most organized academics.

  “History,” the three of them spoke together. They didn’t share the class, but Professor Binns assigned the same work, at the same time, for all first years, regardless of house, so they decided to work on their essays about magic in the Egyptian Empire together.

  They also motivated each other, because it was so unbelievably dull and Barty spent every class desperately trying not to fall asleep on his notes. Which was so disappointing because some of the content looked really interesting. He was flipping through pages in a book titled All We Don’t Know About Magic of the Past, and he was hooked. The book itself was a collection of academic articles and essays examining the knowledge of magical history vs. the knowledge of muggle history and examining the similarities and differences, suspecting what was magic and what was some muggle thing called technology. (He had absolutely no idea what technology was and made a mental note to research it at a later date.) It also looked at magical studies and advancements in different parts of the world and compared them. Speculating if Britain was really as advanced as the Ministry led them to believe.

  “Isn’t the essay due tomorrow?” Evan asked, pulling out his Transfiguration textbook.

  “Wasn’t our Transfiguration assignment due yesterday?” Barty asked back, crossing his arms over his books and leaning forward towards the other boy.

  “It was,” Evan voice was condescending, “That’s why I already finished it and handed it in a week ago. This-” he tapped his paper with the end of his quill, “is the essay on the origin of transfiguration magic.”

  “But that’s not due till after the break.”

  “I know.”

  Realizing that Evan was one of those students, Barty recoiled and turned back to talk to the girls, only to discover that Pandora had started a conversation with Regulus about Jupiter, which they were currently studying in Astronomy class. And more surprisingly, Regulus, who never had much care for anything, was listing admittedly and with a surprising amount of energy. So Barty just decided to leave them to it, checking in again with Duri.

  “How’s your progress going?” He nodded towards her work.

  Duri shrugged, “I’m torn. I doubt Binns is used to caring about essays that don’t follow the normal themes, but the mythological aspects of magic is so interesting.” She handed over her perfectly organized notes for Barty to look over as she spoke. “For example they had a goddess of magic, Isis, who was renowned for healing. She also used her powers to exact revenge on those who wronged her. She’s really interesting!”

  “And how you gonna argue this to Binns?”

  “Well, I asked him for a specific layout of what hes looking for,” she tapped her quill at another paper laid out in front of her, “and I’m going to follow that whist still talking about what I want to talk about. And if I get a bad mark on it, I’m taking it to Flitwick and McGonagall and getting there endorsement, before bringing it back to Binns and arguing my right to a better mark.”

  “Damn, you’ve really thought this out.” Barty handed back her notes, thoroughly impressed, “That’s a lot of energy for one assignment.”

  “If Hogwarts had student council, I’d be on it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Muggle thing.”

  “Are you all exited for Christmas?” Pandora’s voice was slightly elevated as the turned hers and Regulus’s conversation to the rest of the group. “Anyone have any plans?”

  “I’m staying in Scotland with my mum for half the break,” Duri started. “Her and her Coven have this big celebration planed that she want’s me to be apart of. Then I’m going back home to my grandparents.”

  “My family is going to Greece, my mother has plans to find a Christmas cat.”

  “What’s a Christmas cat?” Evan asked her but Pandora just smiled.

  Regulus sighed, “My family hold this big party on Christmas night ever single year.”

  “I’m going to that,” Evan nodded, mind still clearly on his Transfiguration work.

  “My parents are too.” Barty acknowledged.

 “Not you?” Duri asked.

  Barty shook his head, “Nah, pure-blood event are long and boring, I haven’t gone to one in years.”

  “You should come,” Regulus suggested, “It’s would be nice to see someone else I can carry conversation with. It also means I can talk about quidditch sense Evan isn’t into it.”

  “Oi,” Evan complained, but without much bite.

  “You sure?” Barty raised an eyebrow, “I’m not exactly the most proper person.”

  “You can get through meals in the great hall well enough,” Regulus argued, “you do not have to come if you do not wish to.”

  Barty thought about the hours spent alone on Christmas night every year since his grandparents passed away, the silence of the halls that he was all too familiar with, despite his mother’s best efforts to keep up the cheer.

  And it would be really nice to know he could spent some times with his friends over the break. Even if Regulus has been staring at his a bit for the past month and Evan kept rolling his eyes whenever Barty suggested a ‘stupid’ idea. (Barty knew the gleam in his eye said; ‘please give me more ideas Barty! I will do them all with you one day!’)

  So what the hell! Barty pushed aside the real reason for his abhorrence to the party and smiled, “You can count me in!”

  The next few weeks of school went by in a blur. Barty ended up with an O on his rushed History essay which the then proceeded to rub in Evan’s face (granted the other boy got the same mark). For the most part he was relaxed, his brain entering vacation mode before the winter holiday had even started.

  That was, until he realized he’d forgotten to get gifts for, well anyone! He hadn’t even though about what he was getting. He had until Christmas Eve, as that is went the owls would be sent out for the presents to be delivered by morning, but still that only left a few days notice.

  As soon as he was back home he asked his mum to drop him off at Diagon Ally, and began his mad rush of gift surging.

  He started off with his mum, heading straight to a sweets shop and grabbing a sizable amount of sugar quills, her favourite treat. Gianna had often talked about her time at Hogwarts, which included her time in the begging of her relationship with Bartemius Sr. One of the thing that she most often mentioned was how he would buy her sugar quills whenever he stopped at Hogsmeade, and how sucking on them whist in class or in the library helped to calm her nerves. He then walked over to one of the many potions supplies shops to buy a couple of everlasting lilies, which he planed to braid into a permanent flower crown for her.

  Whist he was in the shop, he also looked around for gifts for his other friends. He knew both Regulus and Pandora loved potions class. Himself and Duri both enjoyed the class but we’re crazy about it, and Evan hated it. Originally he was going to get something potion related for Pandora and Regulus, before remembering that his grandfather had left him a bunch of signed posters from some members of the Italian National Quidditch team. They all meant so much to Barty, but he had some duplicates, including one of Antonio Franco, the seeker of the team from 1965-71. The player was dead now, dragon pox, which made the poster all the more special. Barty knew Regulus would love it.

  As for Pandora, Barty basically looked around for anything that wouldn’t be used in a classroom potions class. The more strange the better as Pandora liked to experiment as opposed to using standered instructions. He also found an ornate carved wooden cauldron that the shopkeeper said was enchanted to be fireproof. He bought it and put all of the ingredients inside, figuring it was a good way to store them.

  He spent the next hour scouring different bookstores in search of his present for Duri. He wanted to find something on magic throughout the world, especially religious magic like hers, and how it connected to the magic that was in the world he knew. Granted, he knew a book probably wasn’t the best gift, but this seemed like one that Duri wouldn’t mind.

  By the time he found one that seemed suitable, Our Erased Magical Truth’s by Jannavive Circavitch, it had been a vast majority of the day and Barty was drained. He still needed to find something for Evan and after taking a break to treat himself to some ice cream, debated getting something for Alice too. It was only right, he supposed, seeing as how she was mentoring him.

  The problem was that this left two people he needed to buy gifts for, and no clue on what to get. His mother had informed him that she was to pick him up by four o’clock sharp (she was currently staying at the leaky cauldron, being understanding of his want to shop alone but not allowing herself to be too far away in the case of an emergency.) But this meant that he was running out of time.

  He didn’t know that much about Alice yet, at least in the face of what she was into. So after some departing he just headed back to the sweet shop and picked up a bit of candy for her.

  Evan was a different story. The boy was his friend, the first dormmate to except him. He spent to much time with Barty yet to Barty the boy was an enigma. He liked doing his work when it was assigned instead of when it was due, he had little care for quidditch, saying that the wizarding world he’d the sport in far to high of a regard and should instead look towards multiple different kinds of sports. He didn’t set up games but also never backed down from a challenge and he acted displeased by files pleasures yet was activity seeking them out.

  That’s when Barty got an idea, it may not be the best gift on it’s own, but the adventure it could cause certainly would be.

  And with that he headed off to a shop he knew sold all kinds of practical jokes and materials, practically vibrating with energy and rambunctious glee.

Chapter Text

December 23rd, 1972

Barty would have to say that his favourite Christmas happened when he was 7. It was spent in Italy, at his grandparents home in Venice. Gianna Crouch loved Christmas, and always tried to make the holiday special, and usually tried to travel home for it whenever she could. This particular year, Barty’s father had stayed behind to work at the office. Gianna had begged and begged him to come with them but he said that the ministry was creating a bunch of new bills that would “reshape the wizarding world” and he just couldn’t get away. So Gianna packed up her things and brought Barty to Italy alone.

The life changing bill just ended up banning muggle family members of magical folk from magic protective communities.

They spend more and more Christmas’s there often without Barty Sr. and Barty got to spend so much time with his mother and grandparents. Gianna was an only child, same as Barty, and with no other close relatives the trips were spent as just the four of them. Being the only child there, Barty got spoiled rotten, with gifts yes, but mostly with affection and attention. Between the three adults there was always someone willing to listen to him, to talk to him, to be in the same room as him. The energy was so vibrant and cheerful and it truly felt like Barty had stepped into a dream whenever he was there.

He didn’t like what he’d wake up to for Christmas’s now.

He’d get glimpses of the day’s he used to know in Italy, his mother did the best to keep up the cheer, but it wasn’t the same. Mostly due to the silence.

His father was never home, weather it be weekdays, weekends or holidays his fathers time at the ministry only grew. Before leaving for Hogwarts Barty would see him for maybe three or four meals a week. Since getting home a few days ago, Barty had seen the man once, through the rarely open door of his office, a plate of food that Barty and his mum had for dinner left sitting cold and untouched. They didn’t speak to each other, this was a common site, Barty just walked past the room.

Despite this, it was still nice to be home. He didn’t realize how much he missed it.

“What colours do you want to use this year?” His mother asked him, looking through their collection of Christmas decorations, levitating some around her whilst others she put back in the box.

“Silver for sure,” Barty said, grabbing one of the floating silver ornaments.

Gianna smiled, “I love that idea,” and with a flick of her wand, the decorations shifted, the house getting set up filled with silver and white decoration.

It was as the tree was being magically grown from a sapling to a massive evergreen that Barty found the voice to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue since he got home. “Have you asked him about it?”

The ‘it’ was the Black family Christmas banquet that Regulus had invited him to. Barty had sent a letter to his mum about the dinner later the day he was asked, and she was ecstatic about the idea. She said she always missed him since he never went to any dinners. But it wasn’t about weather or not she wanted him to go, it was his father who stopped him from going out in the first place. In his letter, Barty asked him mum to be the one to request permission for Barty’s attendance.

It was the only possibility of getting a yes, Barty Crouch Sr. loved his wife.

His mother was quite for a moment, and Barty knew her answer before she even spoke. “It’s hard tesoro,” treasure, what Barty was to her. “You’re father knows you don’t like events like this, otherwise I’m sure he’d like to have you come.” She was wringing her hands, not even believing her own words. “I just, haven’t found the right words yet.”

“But have you even asked him?”

Once again, Gianna was quite, “I just-”

“Please mum!” Barty burst out, “he’ll say no if I ask him, you know it! Regulus’ party is in two days, I really want to go!”

Gianna looked at him, heartbroken. “Okay,” she whispered, “okay, I’ll talk to him tonight after dinner. He’s coming home tonight, he told me so.”

“Is he?”

“He requested lamb, so I’d say yes.”

Barty nodded, “okay,” he sighed out in relief, “that’s good. Thank you mum.”

His mother smiled, ruffling his hair and kissing his head before setting up the rest of the decorations and dispelling the leftovers back to storage. “Now, how about some hot coco?”

He smiled, and went followed his mother into the kitchen.

Barty spent the rest of the day in anticipation, unable to get his mind off the slow-ticking clock. His father’s arrive at home was unexpected; even with knowing that he’d be back in time for dinner, his father didn’t care much for punctuality when it comes to his family.

When his father did arrive home, Barty could feel the shift in the air.

It was just before dinner was served; their house elf, Pinky was setting up, Barty’s mom was smoothing out her dress, and Barty himself had just sat down at his spot to the left of the head of the table. Across from his mum and soon, beside his father.

Bartemius Crouch Sr. was an interesting man to describe, as head of the Crouch family, one of the Sacred 28, he held a lot of power. He had a spot ready and waiting for him in the ministry by the time he was 15 courtesy of his father, Barty’s paternal grandfather. However, this was an entry position in magical transportation, and Bartemius Sr. had no care for that, often talking about how he wanted to reshape the wizarding world. Making it a proper place for all wizards. He switched to the department of Magical Transportation to the Department of Magical Law enforcement after only a year of interning. Barty’s father was once of the main directors of the department, and as of four months ago, is up for the position of Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If he wins, he’ll be the youngest Department Head in the past 300 years at 30 years old.

As much as Barty has a rather frigid relationship with his father and the fact that his job keeps him father from home every day, he’d be a liar to say he wasn’t greatly inspired by his fathers skill, ambition, and drive. He couldn’t imaging how passionately his father must care about his job. He’d put anything over it.

Bartemius, poised and proper, now sat at the head of the table, and Pinky begin to serve dinner.

“How was your day, love?” Barty’s mum asked to start of the conversation, her voice filled with love for her husband.

Barty’s father sighed, “Long,” he started, “It’s clear that the balance of our magic is at a shift. The ministry is bustling with it. The disappearance of that magizooligist last week has the whole department’s head in a turn. The lad was the third wizard to go missing seemingly without cause in the past two months. The other directors are deeply concerned Gia, I have to say I am myself. These dissaperences are tied to something dark, and I intend to squash it before it grows.”

Gianna reached out to grab her husbands hand, rubbing pressure on the sides of his palm to relax the muscles and allow him some relaxation and relief.

Barty stayed silent and focused his attention on his food, letting his parents have their little moment. While he ate he thought about what his father said, about these apparent disapperences. He didn’t read the Daily Profit himself, never caring much for the news, but he can’t imagine that these could be that bad. People must go missing all the time, right? Run away from unwanted lives, or travellers without friends to know of their location. Sure, a missing person can be a very bad thing, like a murder victim or somthin’, be he doesn’t think it’s as bad as his father is worried about. There would be more of a fuss at school if it was truly the start of some dark rising.

“And Barty’s made lots of friends at school.” Barty snapped his head up, realizing that his mother was talking about him. “Two girls in Ravenclaw and his dormmates. Did you want to tell your father about them tesuro?” Communicating with her eyes, Barty realized that she wanted him to lay groundwork for her talk with his father later.

“Yeah, Pandora and Duri are great!” He started, exited to tell his father about his friends. He sent all his letters during school to his mother, so he doesn’t know how much she’s relayed back to Bartemius Sr. “They both have a much different view on traditionally taught magic, and so it’s really fun to talk with them about magical theory and how much we really know in our current curriculum in comparison to other countries or time periods. And I’m getting along really well with my dormmates, Evan Rosier and Regulus Black.”

He said their names with baited breath as he watched his father’s expression.

“I didn’t realize that Orian’s younger was starting school with you.” His face was neutral as he dug into his lamb, if the man was a book then Barty felt illiterate. “I’d hope you know to try to set any sort of respectable image in his presence. The Blacks are a very important family to gain connections with. Though their value in tradition is rather seedless in my option.” He took a bite, finishing before he spoke again. “I knew that Gabriel Rosier had a son that would be joining you, abrasive man.”

Barty wasn’t sure what to say to that, he’d forgotten that his dad and Evan’s were political rivals at the ministry. It would be better to focus on Regulus.

“Regulus and I get along fairly well,” he was treading water. “He is a big fan of quidditch as well, and we both hope to join the team next year. I suspect that the teamwork will only bring us closer together. And his friendship is helpful to my studies, the work isn’t difficult, but Regulus is a good scholar, he keeps me on my toes.”

His father hummed, Barty looking at his only son.

“With seven years in the same dorm, I suspect he’ll be a very valuable friendship,” Barty tried to hide his discomfert as he talked about his friend as if he were a pawn. “I wish to nurture it as best as I can.” After that, he looked back to his mum, speaking with her in silent stares. That’s the best I got, your move.

§

“I just want you to listen for a moment.”

Barty paused at the usual sound of his mother sounding almost angry in her whisper-yell. He had been walking down the stairs, planning to make his way to the kitchen and get a glass or milk or juice or somthin’. Now, he paused his descent, sitting down on the step to listen.

“I am listening,” his fathers voice was gruff, and annoyed. “It simply is a matter that I will not except. That boy is an embarrassment, and I refused to allow him to an event as important as this. Do you know what a night like this could do for my campaign?”

“Do you know what a night like this could do for Barty?” Gianna shot back. It felt alien to hear this level of bite in her words, “Barty is a lonely boy. He’s been in this house with no friends, no one his age to talk to since he was six. He needs to get out into society, as a child with needs, and the boy I love more then life itself, and as the heir to your family and your estate. How do you expect him to keep our family legacy if he is never seen with us at any pure-blood events you establish? You’ve already said you want him to end up with an English girl. You want that to happen at Hogwarts without any input or supervision from us? And what about the connections he’s already made there? He isn’t asking to go because he thinks it would be fun, otherwise he would of asked to go years about. Orian’s younger son asked him to go personally. You’re worried about what he will do to your image if he goes? What do you think it will look like if he doesn’t go after such an invitation? He’s also friends with one of Rosier’s boy’s, don’t you think it would be good for your campaign if he maintains that friendship? Honestly Bartemius, for such a clever man you really don’t like to use your head.” There was a moment of silence, followed by shuffled footsteps.

When Gianna spoke again, her voice was much softer, “I know you want what’s best for your job, but I want what’s best for our son. And if you are the man I know you to be, the man I fell in love with; you will want the same.”

Again their was silence, and Barty desperately wished he could see the conversation instead of just hearing it. He strained his ears, and then he heard what he was desperately hoping for.

“Alright, he can come.”

Silently, he pumped his fists, leaning back on the step so he could kick his feet in the air. He could go! This was real! He’d get to see Evan and Regulus!

“But I swear he better not embarrass me Gia,” his father spoke again, sounding agitated, “Before I banned him he would run all over the place at these sort of events, giggling and screaming like a banshee. It was appealing. He would make all sorts of wild jokes and comments. Remember the Lestranges? He came in for dinner covered in mud, Gianna! I have never been so appealed in my life. He is to be on his best behavor, or I swear he shall never go to an event such as this again! I’m already worried about what his being away at school will do to him.”

Barty, still listening, took his fathers words to heart. He wasn’t going to mess this up. If he behaved well enough his father might allow him to spend time with Evan and Regulus over the summer break! Pandora and Duri too while he was at it.

It was settled, he would be the perfect son.

Chapter Text

December 25th, 1972

The Black family manor was magnificent. A marvellous Victorian manor with deep handsome grey bricks and rich ivy perfectly scaling the walls. Framing the large multi-paned windows and imposing torrents. The gardens on their own were impressive, hanging the manor in the middle like a painting. Everything was so ethereal; enchanting, and mysterious. A curtain darkness surrounded the house, not just caused by the setting sun, but by the air. The vibrant yet darking greens of the garden made Barty feel like this house was plucked from a standard Victorian gothic novel.

He wondered, what would it be like to live here?

He didn't get the chance to marvel for too long, however. His father was trudging along, so Barty had to as well. He stayed close to his father throughout the whole of their arrival at the manor. Bartemius Sr. seemed to know everyone there. Shaking hands more often the Barty could count.

Barty was starting to remember how he felt being at the parties before. The stuffy, suffocating air. The countless bodies of men and women he didn’t know surrounded him. It was annoying and boring. But he had to deal with it, he couldn’t mess around and lose ever going to these again.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. Instantly Barty was filled with excitement. Turning to his father he asked, as dignified as he could, “Would I be able to go off to talk to my friends?”

However, his father in turn, didn’t acknowledge him, possibly not even hearing, already in deep conversation with his supporters.

“Go ahead, dear.” Gianna answered for him, smiling at her son, “Just come back before they serve dinner, alright? Remember you’re sitting with us.”

“Of course mum, thanks!” And giving her a quick hug, he sped walked over to his friends as gracefully as he could.

Evan and Regulus were together, unsurprisingly. Whispering to each other with board expressions on their faces.

“Hello,” Barty greeted, “How has your break been so far?”

The boy’s turned their attention towards him. “Eventful,” Regulus said in his usual deadpan bluntness. “Being home is… different.”

“Different how?”

“Just,” Regulus sighed, “hard to tell if I love or hate it more.”

Barty squinted, as if doing so would help him see into whatever the labyrinth that was Regulus’s mind. Failing to get any sort of reading and seeing that Regulus clearly didn’t want to elaborate further, Barty moved onto the other boy. “And how has your break been Evan?”

Evan opened his mouth to reply, and was promptly cut off by a taller boy, almost identical to Regulus, entering the hallway the three slytherins had found themselves in.

“There you are Reggie! Been looking all over for you.”

Barty knew of Regulus’s older brother, it was impossible to attend Hogwarts and not. The second year already had a reputation of being a troublemaker, along with his group of friends. And of course he also was known in social circles for being the heir to the house of black, and failing at his family expectations of son more than Barty seems to with his sorting.

But when it comes to actually knowing Sirius Black on any deeper level, Barty comes up blank. Despite their four months of dorming together, Barty has rarely heard Regulus talk about his older brother. And whenever he did the conversations were not very long. Barty knew that Regulus admired his older brother, but didn’t like the direction he was going in, a direction Regulus said he didn’t want to follow. It was the first time Regulus didn’t want to be like his older brother.

So seeing him now, Barty takes a good time studying the 13-year-old boy. The elder Black brother was messy. His hair seems a bit longer than most other pure-blood boys he’d seem, completely covering his ears. His dress robes were disheveled, as if he had just run through a crowd, and his silver eyes held a playful challenge.

“What do you want, Sirius?” He sounded annoyed.

“Now why do I need to want something?” Regulus stared and Sirius just laughed. “Come on Reggie, introduce me to your friends! I want to know who my baby brother likes to hang out with.”

Regulus sighed again, but it didn’t hide his smile. “You’ve met Evan before,” he pointed to the blonde haired boy, “And this is Barty Crouch Jr.”

Barty greeted Sirius with a smile, before remembering he was supposed to be polite and sticking out his hand as his father always does when meeting someone. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Sirius replied, shaking it.

“You really just want to meet my friends?” Regulus asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re faith in me is really nice, brother,” Sirius replied with a light toned sarcasm, “I’m honestly just bored out of my mind! I can’t find Andy and Cissa and Bella are talking to the Lestrange brothers and I have no interest in trying to join that conversation. I do really just want to spend some time with you though. And your friends by extension.” Regulus' face twitched at that, but he ended with a slight smile. Siruis took this as a sign to continue, “So how are you two finding sharing a room with my brother?”

Evan and Barty shared a look before Barty shrugged and led the conversation, “Well, I’m surrounded by nerds.”

Evan, who apparently wasn't expecting that response, squawked and snapped his head to the other boy. “Excuse me?”

“It’s true!” and it was, “You’re Mr.Let's-Start-An-Assignment-Two-Weeks-Early-For-Fun and Regulus is always off in some corner or another reading or writing in his leather bound journal. Leather bound! You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that’s not nerdy?”

“It’s true.” Sirius agreed, and Barty found himself liking Regulus’s brother. “Reggie’s been writing in books like that for years, filling it up with poetry of all things. He’s got a whole shelf of them here.”

“Oh I gotta see that!” Barty’s voice shook with excitement and he looked at Regulus, mischief bright in his eyes.

“No.” Regulus replied. “Try and you die.”

Barty pouted, “You’re no fun.”

“You know, if you want fun, I have some ideas.” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows at his brother.

Reglus' poster changed instantly as he sighed, exasperated. “I told you, I have no interest in that.”

“And I told you, Reggie. My stash has a dungbomb with your name on it! I bet you could get Bella if you wanted to. You gotta learn to be more fun!”

“What, like Potter?”

Barty could swear that he saw the air around them freeze. Particles stopping mid-movement, as Sirius’s face shifted. Fingers twitched and posture tightening.

“Dining Hall,” A curly black haired girl, looking akin to Regulus and Sirius, interrupted. Shifting the focus as she walked briskly past the four of them, not even stopping to look at them with her announcement.

It broke the ice that clouded the air around boys, but it didn’t get rid of the cold, and the walk back was silent.

It didn’t take him long to find his parents, slipping into their shadow as if he was there the whole time. His mom noticed his arrival, smiling at him and reaching over to squeeze his hand. His father didn’t notice him, possibly didn’t even notice he left. He was still talking to other ministry wizards, just as he was when Barty left. Though the man he was talking to might have changed. It was hard to tell, they all look the same.

Barty was just about to smile and zone out, as that was the most “poper” he could get, when he realized the other man was looking at him.

“This is your only son, right Crouch?”

“Only child.” Bartemius corrected.

“Well then,” the stranger laughed, “he’ll have quite the expectations to follow I’m sure. The Crouch family line is a very important one, boy. Make sure you remember that. Purity is everything.”

Perhaps this was one of the Lestranges? Barty had to sit through a bunch of wizards saying the same thing at the last ball he went too. It all got so repetitive that he ended up sneaking off to the gardens just to hear himself think. Before he got distracted by some bugs and ended up 10 minutes late to the actual dinner part of the event covered in mud. Whoops.

But, he couldn’t afford to act like that tonight, not if he wanted to go back to Regulus’s house one day. So he straightened up, and nodded, smiling.

The man laughed again, carrying on as if he didn’t care if Barty responded in any way or not. Perhaps he didn’t. “And this strengthens my point,” he turned back to Barty’s father, continuing whatever conversation they were having. “The next generation. The rank of pure-blood is fading so much in our modern society, and I fear what will happen to the children if they do not get a proper education, one where their blood is seen as important as it is.” He sighed, finishing the rest of his drink, “I simply ask that you think about my inquiry, as I am about your campaign.”

“I've certainly taken your words to heart, Black.”

Barty’s eyes widened, this one of Regulus’s family members? Was this his dad? He didn’t get a chance to ask, as the man walked away and a woman clinked on a glass and announced that it was time for them all to head into the dining room. Dinner was served.

In a crowd, the witches and wizards all made their way into the lavish dining hall. At its head was a man who looked quite similar to Regulus, the woman who announced the food sitting beside him. This was probably Regulus’s parents. Barty spotted the pure-blood his father was talking to a few seats down. So perhaps an uncle? Cousin? With the entanglement of wizarding families it very well could be both.

Once everyone was settled, the man at the head of the table, Regulus’s father, stood to address the room.

“Welcome all, to another lovely night hosted by my family.” He started. “I am honored to have you all here tonight. As another year draws to a close we have seen more and more changes happen to the wizarding world; some good, some not. I trust that in the coming future we shall see lot’s of proper changes take form as a wizarding world that we can be proud of and our children can be raised in will emerge.” He raised his glass, “ Toujours Pur!”

“Toujours Pur!” Several other guests cheered as everyone raised their glasses. Barty tried to join in, although he doubted he pronounced the french properly. He wasn’t sure what it ment, so he’ll have to ask Regulus later. 

The dinner honestly wasn't that eventful. Neither Regulus nor Evan were close enough to him that he could have any worthwhile conversation with them. Although he could’ve sworn he saw Evan watching him a couple of times throughout the meal.

Sighing in boredom, Barty resorted to people watching. His eyes scanned the dining hall at all the witches and wizards, some he recognized and some he didn’t.

Barty tried to catch the attention of Regulus, who was only sitting a few chairs away. But he and his brother looked like they were talking about… something. They kept leaning into each other, whispering. Barty couldn’t hear anything, but they both looked a bit upset. Sirius in particular looked almost angry. Barty would have to ask him about that later.

Turning his attention to Regulus’s cousin, he saw that one of them, Narcissa, was missing. Her chair was pushed back and her fork and knife were neatly placed on top of her plate. Before he could give any thought to that, Orian Black gave the signal that the dinner was over, and one by one the plates started to disappear.

No sooner had the plates cleared did Regulus and his brother get up and walk out of the dining hall together. Probably to continue whatever conversation they were having. Regulus looked upset.

So, naturally, Barty went to follow them.

For such underweight looking pre-teens, the sure moved fast. And given the vast amount of hallways and the fact that Barty had never been at the manor before. It didn’t take long for him to lose sight of him. Barty walked around the halls looking for his friend with little success, and he soon got distracted by taking in the house.

Everything about the English home screamed old money. It was lavish, and the portraits in the halls displayed centuries of the Noble House of Black. Barty allowed himself to space out, running his hand along the crisp blue wallpapers and the dark oak wood lining. Only snapping out occasionally when he saw Narcissa Black exist the library or when he nearly tripped over a knocked over chess table. He didn’t find Regulus, but he did find Evan.

“ Heyyyyyy Rosier!” He sang out approaching the blonde wizard, blinking himself back into focus.

His lip twitched, “Crouch.” Then looking him up and down he continued, “What are you doing over here?”

“Was looking for Regulus,” Barty explained, “he looked weird at dinner. Don’t you think so?”

“Before dinner too,” Evan agreed. “I figured it was because of his brother. They’ve been strained for a while.”

“Strained? I know Regulus doesn’t talk about him much but is their relationship negative?”

Evan shrugged, “Not my place to comment much. Besides, Regulus barely talked to me about it. All I know is that it's really personal. I’ve found it better not to ask when it comes to Sirius.”

Barty nodded the dismissal in the blondes voice, and switched the subject. “So, you never got a chance to say how your break has been so far.”

“Yeah, I actually wanted to say something about that.” Evan then reached into the inside of his dress robes and pulled out a folded up letter. Unfolding it, he held it up so Barty could read what it said. “What the hell is this?”

Evan, the letter read, and Barty instantly recognized his own handwriting, knowing what the rest of the letter said without needing to read it. He did anyway.

Evan,

I know you’re a lot more like me than you like to let on. Don’t use these over the holes or anything, we’re gonna make some memories.

- Barty

“Is it not clear?” Barty asked with a turn of his head and a cheeky grin on his face. “I’ve seen the gleam.”

“Gleam?” Evan looked unimpressed.

“Yeah! It’s the look you get in your eyes. I’ve seen it when you talked with Pandora about what the professors were like as students. Or when Duri asked about some random song and you started quoting the thing from memory. You get the gleam when you get excited or mischievious. Especially when you can mess with people in a witty way.”

Evan looked at him like he was as stupid as a troll, blinked and then folded the letter back up and slipped it back in his pocket. “I don’t have a gleam.”

Barty gave him a deadpan look, which Evan matched and sent the two into a staring contest until Evan raised an eyebrow and Barty blinked and looked away . “Well, look-” he stammered, “all I’m saying is that you can be just as much of a brat at me, and that I think it would be fun to act on it. Just, think about it, okay?”

Evan continued staring, which was starting to freak Barty out as his eyes were a very intense shade of navy blue that were piercing Barty’s soul.

“Will you stop looking at me like that Ev? It’s starting to really freak me out.” Evan finally tore his gaze away from Barty, staring fixedly at the ground, a small secret smile ghosting across his lips.

“Sorry.” Evan mumbled, scuffing his foot against the floor. Guilt pooled in Barty’s stomach. He hadn’t meant to hurt Evan’s feelings. It was only that the intensity in Evan’s gaze had made Barty feel things he didn’t understand. It was as if Evan was boring a hole straight through his soul.

“So,” Barty trailed, looking down at where Evan had now re-pocketed the letter, “that a yes?”

“Perhaps,” Evan replied with a smirk. Barty looked at him, trying to get a read on the boy and coming up blank. Once again Barty wished he could read his mind. Barty opened his mouth to say…something. He wasn't sure what. And it turned out he didn’t need to know, as the moment was broken by a bang.

Turning, Evan and Barty saw Regulus stumble into the hallway. His dress robes were ruffled, and his face was stained with tears, nose still running.

“Regulus? What happened?” Evan asked as the two of them ran over to the crying boy. “Regulus, come on, talk to us.”

Regulus just bit his lip, shaking his head. Barty looked at Evan, feeling utterly helpless. “What did he say?” Barty asked, “your brother?”

Regulus didn’t answer, but his flinch told him that he was correct, guessing that Sirius is the one that made him upset. 

“Barty, love.” His mother called as she entered the hallway. “Ah, there you are. Come, we’re leaving now. Say goodbye to your friends, you’ll see them after the break.”

Barty looked at Evan, glanced down at Regulus and back up again. Evan nodded, thankfully understanding and Barty smiled. “I’ll see you two on the train then. Hope the rest of your holiday goes well.” Looking directly at Regulus he added, “Hope you feel better. You know I’m always around to talk.” Regulus blinked at him, eyes still red and puffy, and Barty figured that was the best he was going to get. Turning, he met up with his mother, and hoped that Evan would know what to do. He just wanted Regulus to feel better.

Chapter Text

January 8th, 1973

Regulus was still upset. He didn’t say it, barely showed it, but Barty could tell.

For starters, he didn’t say anything on the train ride back to Hogwarts. Not a word. And while that wasn’t too unusual; Regulus was quiet, not mute. He liked a sarcastic remark, mostly at Barty’s expense. But despite the many opportunities to insult Barty, Regulus didn’t bite. He also didn’t join in on Pandora’s attempt at conversation with him about the myths behind different constellations. But Pandora often ended up rambling without noticing that the person she was speaking to hadn’t replied once.

Barty wanted to ask about it, but figured that Regulus wasn’t any more willing to talk now then he was at the party. He’d try later, when they were alone.

For now, he focused on his friends, as they discussed their holidays.

Duri had spent the time in her grandparents house in Birmingham. She explained about how her and her mum live there for half the year, and spent the other half in a small town just outside Edinburgh. Her mum has a friend who owns a house there and rents it out to them for that time. She got to spend a bunch of time with her mum’s coven, along with meeting some of the covens kids, one of whom she became good friends with and plans to write to constantly.

Pandora had been talking about the trip to Greece for a while. She said that her family has connections to seer’s and her family has made trips to the island of Delphi for generations. Pandora said she didn’t have any kind of visions herself that she knew of, just strange dreams. She also got to travel around the country in general, meeting a lot of different magical animals as her mother was a magizoologist.

Evan and Regulus had already talked about their breaks with Barty at the party, so he didn’t need that much detail about it. But he did notice some shifts in attitude. Regulus was far more reserved about his wording then he was at the party. Which was saying a lot because he was stingy even then. And whilst talking Evan looked at Barty and trailed off in the middle of his sentence, taking a moment to continue when Duri asked him to continue.

As for Barty himself, he didn’t know how to talk about his break. He didn’t want to mention the party since Regulus and Evan already covered it, but that made his break seem boring. He spent most of it at home with his mum, or by himself wandering when his mum was busy. His dad only showed for those two nights, and even if he was there, Barty didn’t want to talk about his dad. It’s not like he thought it was something to hide, his dad had done so much in his life and it was awe inspiring. Barty secretly hopes to do just as much and be just as powerful as him. But if being successful meant being alone… Well Barty really didn’t want that. Barty would hate to live alone.

So, he talked about his mum; about how they decorated the house and the absurd amounts of hot coco she let him drink. He talked about how different it was from the holidays he used to spend with his grandparents in Italy and how he and his mom did their best to continue as many traditions as they could. Overall, he just talked about how much he had missed his mum, because he had a lot. And as embarrassing as it was to admit he loved her more than anything, and he knew she felt the same about him.

“I’m going to use the loo before we get too close to the school,” Regulus announced when Barty finished, taking off before Barty could try to read the expression on his face.

He’d definitely have to talk to him later.

Later ended up coming that night, when they were about to make their way to dinner. Evan had already left and since Barty and Regulus were in the dorm alone, Barty figured it was as good a time as any to ask.

“Hey, Regulus?” Barty started, cautiously. “What happened? The night of your dinner?”

Regulus, ever quick to maintain his cool, only allowed a flash of hurt to be shown before his face became neutral. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Regulus’s face fell. “I know whatever it was that your brother said to you hurt you. A lot. I know that you’re still not over it which means it was big since I’ve never seen you be genuinely upset about something for long. And I know that you don’t want to talk about it, but you need to. So I’m asking you, as your friend, what did he say to you?”

Regulus didn’t answer for a little while, instead staring at the floor and biting the inside of his cheek. “It-” He sighed, “It's nothing, nothing to worry about anyways. I am fine. What Sirius said is insignificant. Don’t worry yourself with it, Barty.”

“If it doesn’t matter what can’t you say what it is?”

Regulus’s cool grey eyes snapped up at him, and despite their intensity Barty didn’t let himself back down. Finally Regulus spoke again, voice low, harsh, and serious. “It was nothing I cared to put any energy into. And quite frankly Barty? It is none of your business . I have no plans on telling you what my brother and I talked about. And if you are truly my friend, as you said, you won't ask me again.”

And with that Regulus pushed past his roommate and made his way down to the dining hall.

Barty stayed in their room for a minute, pondering. Regulus genuinely didn’t want to talk about it. Pushing him would only push Regulus farther away. But even so he didn’t want to let the matter drop. Regulus was hurting, and if Barty was truly his friend he would do what he could to fix it.

But how could he fix what he didn’t even know about? Regulus clearly doesn’t want to say what happened and it's not like Barty can force it out of him. But whoever Sirius said to him shook him to his core.

Then it hit him, Sirius . If Barty can’t figure out what happened from one party, he’d simply confront the other. Now, Barty doesn’t really know Sirius Black, aside from the occasional rumour or reputation that he’d hear other students talk about. But it’s not like any of that would stop him. Whatever it was, Sirius hurt his friend, and Barty was going to make him pay for it.

Barty spent the next week subtly watching Sirius Black and his friends.

The small one, Peter Pettigrew, didn’t seem to be as loud as Black, but he talked just as much. His hand was always still in his lap as his mouth ran a mile a minute, talking about an assortment of things that usually went back to his repeated topic of chess or history. At first Barty thought he was left out of the group, but as the week went on he replied that he simply fit in so well it looked natural. His space always opened if he wasn’t there, with the occasional glance over to where he would be if he was. It was as if Pettigrew being in the group was so natural, it didn’t need any planning, thinking, or noticing. It simply was.

The other quieter one was Remus Lupin. If Barty had to pick one that didn’t belong he’d pick him. It was in more subtle ways; how his robes were second hand while the rest had theirs new, or how while the other three talked Lupin preferred to listen, only really speaking if someone else spoke to him first. As if he didn’t believe he was allowed to speak, or that speaking would make the others mad or get him in trouble. While Lupin’s three friends clearly showed that Lupin was one of them, Barty didn’t know if the curly haired boy believed that himself.

Opposite of that was James Potter. A name Barty was well more familiar with. The Potter family was a part of the sacred 28, like Barty, and came from a very powerful line. In both wealth, influence and magical ability. This was clearly shown by James Potter, who strutted around that castle with Black as if he personally helped to discover the damn thing. He was clearly brilliant, as Barty overheard several of his teachers talk about his skills in their classes. There were also rumours that he was a quidditch prodigy, and was the easy choice for Gryffindor chaser when the current Gryffindor chaser leaves at the end of the year. Additionally, he was a popular member of the student community, almost everyone had something to say about the guy.

Barty didn’t like it, no one was perfect and if Potter was trying to be, that only meant he was covering up for something else. Aside from his blatant dislike of Slytherins, which Barty has seen when watching Potter and Black interact with the members of Barty’s house in their year.

Black was far more similar to Potter than he was to Regulus, despite the two looking near identical. Barty had gotten an impression of Black during the banquet that was actually quite nice. But after seeing how Sirius Black acted during the week, mocking, and jeering and celebrating himself like he was Merlin. Along with knowing he did something to Regulus, even though he didn’t know what. That good impression was squished, and Barty decided that until the day Regulus told him not to, he would hate Sirius Black.

Now that he had acquired enough data, it was time to confront him. From his time watching, Barty learns that the four boys who called themselves Marauders like they were a boy group or something, had a knack for sneaking around the castle. More than once Barty would follow one of the boys into a dead end hallway to find it empty.

The whole thing had allowed him to learn about a few of the passages around the school, including the way into the kitchens, which he was guarding now. The bowl of fruit that led to the hidden room of elves was one the Gryffindor boys visited the most, at least one if not more stopping by every few days. And after watching them at dinner, Barty was almost certain that there would be a stop for snacks that night. With a one in four chance, Barty really hoped that Black was the one to make the trip.

The halls were virtually empty and the time grew closer and closer to curfew. The kitchens, while not right next to the Slytherin dorm, were close enough that he could say he lost track of time and was on his way back. Being a first year student would help with his case. Of course this was only if he was caught by a prefect.

Thankfully, he wasn’t, as the footsteps he heard coming down the hallway revealed to belong to Sirius Black and James Potter. He didn’t really want to deal with both of them for the confrontation, but Black was there so he’d take it.

“Hello,” he greeted when the boys spotted him, and the two slowed to a stop a few feet away from the painting that Barty was leaning beside.

The two looked at each other before Black let out a confused, “hi?”

Barty didn’t elaborate, standing silently in the middle of the hallway, blocking the Gryffindors on their way through the dungeons. 

Black looked back at Potter before turning to Barty, still standing unmoving before them. “So, can we get by or-?”

“You can get by when you explain what you did to my friend.”

“I’m sorry?” Black looked baffled. 

“You are going to tell me everything that you said to Regulus at your stupid dinner party because whatever it was is messing him up. He is my friend and I won’t watch him hurt so what did you do and what are you going to do to fix it?”

 Sirius stepped forward, a new sense of bravo now that he knew what the Slytherin was asking about, “Bartimus right? I don’t know who you think you are but my relationship with my brother is no one’s business but mine and Regulus’.”

“That's crap! He’s my friend and that makes it my business.”

“Does he even know that you're talking to me? He’s made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me here, so I doubt he’d appreciate your input.” 

“You clearly don’t understand family if you don’t know the significance of meddling when you are asked.”

That clearly hit some inner cord with the heir of the Black family as he instantly took a step back, no retort in sight. 

Unfortunately for Barty, Black’s friend didn’t lose his tongue.

“Fuck off will you? You have no right to talk about any of this.”

“You fuck off!” Barty yelled back, both offended but also a little happy and the equal opportunity to swear, his mum would kill him if she heard that. “You’re in my part of the castle, who are you to tell me to fuck off.”

“We would already be well on our way if you didn’t decide to pick a fight with us.”

“Not you. Black. Who are you again?” Barty knew who James Potter was obviously, the man was famous around the school but that didn’t matter. 

At this point, Sirius had gotten his brain to function again. “I’ve already said that my relationship with my brother is my own. I don’t know what sob stories he’s been feeding you, but I can make it plain and clear that for the insult I’ve given him, he’s said ten times worse to me. If he’s too fragile to handle the truth he should learn to keep his mouth shut.”

“I don’t care what he’s said to you. Tell me what you said to him so I can make you fix it.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll make you regret it.”

The two Gryffindors laugh at that statement, looking at Barty as if he was no more than a powerless little kid. That’s probably what they saw.

“Make us regret it?” Potter asked, “and how are you going to do that? I doubt the first year curriculum could make us regret much of anything. No offence, but I really don’t think you can hurt us with an unlocking charm.”

Barty didn’t have much of a reply to that, while he was getting secret lessons from Alice, there wasn’t really anything that he could do to hurt the two second years. She was mostly focused on helping him protect himself, not fight. 

He resorted to just glaring at the two, while not intimidating enough to get Black to say what he said, his manic gaze did unease the two boys, as they let out a few grumbled “whatevers” and turned around, leaving Barty’s part of the castle.

That hadn't gone as well as he hoped, if he wanted to figure out regulus, he was going to have to work a lot harder to break Black. He needed new spells. He had to talk to Alice.