Tens and Twos
Barty Crouch Jr. feels his hand shaking as he draws the string back and anchors it in place on his face. He notices the one person who'd make his off day even worse. Evan Rosier. The one who’d beat him last year by a single point. Barty’s father would never let him forget how close he’d been to winning. Barty quickly reminds himself to focus as Evan is watching him and he feels a wave of annoyance. As he thinks to himself wondering why Evan can’t just keep his eyes to himself. As he looks back over at Evan again he notices how fluidly he strings his bow. It’s as if it’s nothing as if he isn’t using a 21 kilogram recurve bow.
Barty curses himself again as he realizes he's been holding his arrow back at the ready for almost a minute and as he comes to the realization his finger slips almost sending his arrow into a bale he wasn't even aiming at ending up in the outer ring of his bale making that arrow only worth two points. “Fuck” he mumbles to himself as his father glances up and notices his arrow hoping the lecture will be saved for the trip back home instead of in the middle of the room. Evan glances over at his exclamation and Barty feels his ears turning red in embarrassment as his fathers words come back into his mind “what's worse than failing is showing your opponents you've failed”. “Barty focus you idiot” he tells himself as he draws back his second arrow and aims. He lets go letting the arrow fly and his heart sinks as the arrow embeds itself into the 8 point ring. He signs and goes to shoot his final arrow so he can go home.
When he shoots his last arrow he feels a flood of relief as it ends up in the dead center at 10 points. Just then he hears a voice from behind him “lucky shot it seems?” Evan asks startling Barty as he didn’t hear him coming up from behind. “You wish” he replies shortly. Evan looks him in the eyes as he does so Barty notices the piercing gray of them. “You could’ve made that eight a ten if you just adjusted your grip” Evan grabs Barty’s wrist adjusting his grip on the bow “thanks but I’ve got it I’m not new to this” Barty snaps. Evan backs up holding his hands up in mock surrender “relax I’m trying to give you a chance of beating me”. Barty stands there unsure how to respond which makes Evan smirk. Finally Barty responds “Can you just piss off I’m trying to practice and you breathing down my fucking neck isn’t doing shit to help”. Evan shrugs and goes back to his place in the range as the range manager calls “line is clean” which is a sign you can get your arrows and final score sheet as he hears that Barty’s heart starts to pound hoping his score isn't too bad. He grabs his arrows and his scoring sheet and glances down at it and sighs a breath of relief. “Thank fuck” he mutters.
The score he reads for the past round is eight then ten then his heart drops as he sees a big two on his chart. He can feel his fathers eyes on the back of his head waiting for him to bring back his score sheet. He slowly starts walking back when someone snatches his score sheet out of his hand and he's about to retort when he realizes who it is. Regulus, his best friend, stands there holding his sheet. “Off day?” Regulus questions as Barty nods, then after a slight pause he says “My fathers going to kill me so if you don't see me tomorrow you know why”. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit overdramatic?” Regulus asks as Barty shakes his head. “I have to go, wish me luck”.
Barty hesitates after saying that then slowly walks and collects his kit and goes to the bench his father is waiting at. His father silently holds out his hand for his sheet and he hands it over and avoids eye contact as he un-strings his bow and packs everything in its case. He feels the disappointment in his fathers stare without even looking at him as he leads Barty to the exit. As they get to the car Barty is filling with dread as he puts his things in the boot. As soon as he and his father are in the car he feels the stony silence until the silence is broken.
“Barty, care to explain?”
“Father I-”
“You got a two”
“I also got a ten”
“Don’t you understand that isn’t good enough and the boy who came to help you wasn’t he the one who beat you last competition”
“Yes but-”
“No, once we get back home you’re going straight up to your room, maybe you can actually succeed at something.”
“Yes father”
As they get back to the large house Barty goes up to his room to do all the homework he's missed but he can’t focus on anything no matter how much he tries. He sighs and puts his bag on his desk and prepares to start his chemistry homework. Chemistry is the bane of his existence. It’s not necessarily difficult but it is annoyingly complicated. Barty would consider himself smart but nothing is up to his fathers standards. His father, the professional archer who also studied law. The one person he's been trying to impress his entire life. Nothing his teachers say about how smart or great he is matters only his fathers disappointment motivates him. Shaking his head as a way to refocus he grabs his chemistry textbook and begins writing his notes on how to write a bohr model as if it couldn’t get any more boring. Once he finally finishes the notes he goes to the ground floor to get some food and take a break. Unfortunately when he enters the kitchen Bartemius Crouch Senior is sitting there and barely looks up as he asks Barty “I hope you've gotten your work done otherwise I don’t know why you’re down here”. Barty tries to hide the nervousness as he steps more into the kitchen. “I finished my chemistry work and then I just have to do the rest of my history notes. I'm just grabbing a quick snack before I finish”. His father nods shortly before responding “I hope you’re actually trying this time”.