“I can’t believe none of us can be together for Christmas!” Evan groans, laying on his bed dramatically, looking at the ceiling.
“At least you don’t have to deal with your parents,” Regulus says, sitting at his desk. “I get to dance around playing heir for the entire break.”
“Oh yes, because being alone on Christmas is just wonderful,” Evan replies, rolling his eyes. “My parents are on a business trip the whole time, and Pandora is staying here for the holidays. All alone in my house is just splendid.”
“You can have my father if you want,” Barty says from across the room. “I’m just thrilled about spending the holidays with him.”
It was no secret that all three of them had family problems; it was quite obvious. They joked about it a lot, but it really wasn’t any joking matter.
“We should have all just stayed at school this year,” Evan mumbles.
“Mother said no,” Regulus replies, tone changing at the mention of her. “I have to fulfill my duties as heir.”
“Good old dad says my presence is required at home. Something about having a reputation to uphold,” Barty says sourly. “I would love to stay with you Ev.”
“We are doomed to horrible home lives, aren’t we?” Evan asks quietly. He knew that it was useless in the end, the answer was obvious.
“Lives of purebloods, I suppose,” Regulus says just as quietly.
The mood of the room changed. They all knew the underlying factor of the conversation. None of them were safe from the hands of their parents.
~
Arriving at home was what Barty dreaded the most. Walking up to the front steps and going inside was frightening. His leg was bouncing the whole train ride.
“Hey, Barty, I’m sure it will be fine. Maybe you can just hide in your room for the majority of break,” Evan reassures, intertwining their fingers. “You’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” he sighs, leaning his head against the window. “I’m not that lucky.”
The rest of the ride was quiet. Evan rubbed his thumb over Barty’s knuckles softly, trying to keep him calm. Even though Barty would never admit it, he was scared of going home. After his mother died, his father got a lot worse. He was more violent. He would get mad a lot easier. His father was convinced that Barty had to be perfect constantly, and Barty was the exact opposite of what his father wanted. He was loud, he was messy, and he was the furthest thing from perfect.
Getting off of the train was torture. He knew what was awaiting him at home. Barty knew that the moment he stepped foot into that house, he was stepping into hell.
“I’ll see you at the end of break, okay? I love you.” Evan says, hugging Barty gently, kissing his neck.
“Love you too.” Barty whispers, trying to memorize the feeling of Evan’s arms around him. It would be the only comfort he had until school started again.
The house itself had always looked unwelcoming. Barty’s father never put decorations out. It was a cold, dark home, inside and out.
The front steps were solid. Plain slats of grey leading up to the door. The house was big, easily showing off the wealth of Barty’s family. The door was a shiny black, reflecting the nonexistent Sun off of it. The silver door knob squeaks as Barty twists it open, almost like it is announcing that he has returned home from school.
Stepping into the house, it almost felt colder than the brisk winter air outside. Nobody seemed to be home, but it always felt like that. Barty’s father was normally found in his office, not wanting to be disturbed. If he wasn’t there, then he was at work. If he wasn’t working, then he was criticizing Barty’s every move.
Barty moves up the stairs, dropping his things down by the door of his room. Even there, it didn’t feel like home. The only thing that did feel like home was Evan. Evan was his home.
He flops onto his bed, then rolls over so he is staring at the ceiling. His room showed no sign of it truly being Barty’s- it was just as plain and boring as the rest of the house. He tried to decorate it to his liking once, but all that did was make his father angry. Barty feared making his father angry.
He would never admit to being afraid, of course. That was a secret he would take to his grave. Nobody could know how truly terrified he was of his dad.
At least it was just the holidays. It wasn’t like the summer. The summer was the worst.
Having to spend months on end with his father was like being in hell. Barty had to act like the perfect son. He had to attend party upon party, acting like a respectful young man. He had to do everything correctly to please his father. If he made even the slightest mistake, he would get punished. The punishments were horrible. Hit after hit came, most times until Barty had passed out. What was even worse was when his father used the Cruciatus Curse. He always felt like his body was on fire when it happened. Barty could feel it pulse through his body. It was the worst.
He knew what was coming. Barty knew that when his father returned, it would all go downhill. It was almost like an interview. His father would go over his grades, his performance in school, how he acts in school, all of it. Every little thing that Barty did was observed.
He didn’t mind most of it. Barty knew he was smart; it wasn’t hard to get good grades. His father always called him a prodigy. Maybe he was, but Barty didn’t really care.
What he did mind was having to keep Evan a secret. Barty didn’t know what his father would do if he found out that he was dating a boy, but he didn’t want to know. It was hard to not be public about their relationship. Barty and Evan both knew that they slipped up multiple times. Every time, nothing seemed to happen. Barty just assumed that they got insanely lucky every time.
Hours later, Barty hears the front door creak open, then slam shut. He was mad. The question was, is he mad at something that has to do with work, or is he mad at Barty?
“Bartemius, get down here now!” His father calls from the bottom of the stairs. Great. Just great.
Barty reluctantly makes his way down the stairs, gripping the railing the whole time. He wasn’t expecting a punishment this early into the holidays.
“Yes father?” Barty stands in the doorway of the living room, seeing his father on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“Come here.”
Barty complies, entering further into the room, standing off to the side of the couch.
“We need to talk.”
This was not going to be good.
“So then talk.”
“Do not give me attitude, young man.” Barty’s father snaps, downing his glass before setting it down on the table firmly. Barty flinches.
“Sorry father.”
“Now, what is this I hear about you dating a boy?”
Barty freezes. No, no this couldn’t be. Anything but Evan. That was supposed to be the one thing his father never found out about.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Barty says, trying to stay indifferent. There was no way his father knew about Evan.
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice raises, and he slaps Barty. “I know you were seen making out with a boy. What is this barbaric behavior about?”
Barty doesn’t say anything. What was he supposed to say? Yes, he was dating a boy. Yes, he was absolutely head over heels in love with a boy.
“Is this true? Have you been dating a boy?” He looked pissed. Completely infuriated.
“Yes father.” Barty mumbles, looking down at the ground. He knew what was coming.
Hit after hit came. Barty was on the ground in complete agony. Pain raced through his body, every single fiber throbbing in pain. Bruises were already forming, who knows how bad they would be by morning. There was blood running down his nose, staining his clothes.
And then came the curse.
Barty felt it course through his body, sending him convulsing on the floor. He couldn’t help but scream in pain. It was horrible. Excruciating.
“I’m sorry father. I’m sorry. Please stop. Please. Please stop.” Barty begs, tears rolling down his face.
“I won’t stop until you learn your lesson.” Barty’s father snaps, kicking him again.
Barty passes out from the pain.
~
Hours later, he wakes up on the cold, hard floor, body aching in pain. Pain filled his senses the moment he tried to sit up.
The bruises were more prominent now, scattered across his body. Barty didn’t even need to lift his shirt to know that his torso was in bad shape.
Once he finally manages to sit up against the couch, he takes a shaky breath. He couldn’t stay here- that much was obvious. Barty’s father was pissed, and he would probably never calm down. The one rule was that Barty had to find a nice, respectful girl to marry once he graduated school. He did the complete opposite of that.
For one, Evan was a boy. That was problem number one. Problem number two was that Evan was not entirely respectful. He was a firm believer in earning respect. He was also incredibly mean to people that upset Barty. Overall, Barty’s father would despise Evan.
He had to leave, but where would he even go? There was nothing for him here.
Unless… no.
No.
The thought of going to Evan’s house crossed his mind, but he immediately tried to push it away. Evan wouldn’t want Barty there with him… would he? He would just be in the way. Evan would probably just tell Barty to go fuck himself.
But what else was he supposed to do?
So despite his intense fears of Evan turning him away, he dragged his body up the stairs and grabbed some things. He didn’t have a lot, just some jewelry and sweaters that he liked. He could fit everything in a backpack, which probably said a lot.
He put on the hoodie Evan gave him, and walked back down the stairs. His body was protesting his every move, telling him to stop moving, but Barty didn’t listen. He was going to leave, even if it killed him.
Taking one last look at the unwelcoming entryway, he slowly opened the front door and slipped out.
He closes the door as quietly as possible, and takes a deep breath. The air outside was even colder than it was earlier, sending a chill through Barty’s spine.
Despite his body begging him to stop moving and rest, he started walking. He would keep on walking, no matter how cold he got, and no matter how much his body burned. Every step sent pain through his legs, but yet he reluctantly kept going.
Maybe Evan would send him away, but Barty didn’t care anymore. He would rather be homeless and living out on the streets than be in that house with his father any longer.
With every protest of his body, he just pushed harder. He was free, and that was all he cared about right now. He was free.
~
He finally arrived at Evan’s house around sunrise. He was shivering from the cold, and his body was aching with pain. Even blinking was a lot of work.
He stumbles up the front steps, but hesitates at the door.
What if he doesn’t want me?
What if he tells me to leave?
What if I have to go back home?
Thought after thought was racing through his brain, and he almost didn’t knock on the door. Maybe he should just go. Evan probably doesn’t want to deal with his problematic ass.
Even so, he knocked on the door. Evan probably wasn’t even awake yet, this was a stupid idea-
But then the door opens, and a sleepy Evan is standing in the doorway, looking disoriented. “Barty?”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to come, but- it’s cold- and-”
Evan blinks a couple times, then notices how bad of shape Barty is in. “Barty, what the fuck happened to you?” Evan asks, pulling him inside.
“He found out.” Barty whispers, letting himself be dragged into the house.
“Found what out?” Evan was so confused.
“Us. He- he knows about us.” Barty’s mind was reeling.
“He did this to you, didn’t he?”
Barty nods in response, and suddenly Evan is pulling him into a hug.
“He hit me- and used the curse- and-”
“What curse?” Evan asks wearily, almost scared for the answer.
“Cruciatus.” Barty whispers, looking away from Evan’s eyes.
Evan holds Barty closer, bringing a hand to his hair. “It’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Tears start to fall from Barty’s eyes. The relief of being safe, of being with Evan, of being free, it all hits him at once.
“You’re okay. It’s okay, love. You are safe now.”
Barty just clings to Evan’s shirt. “I’m safe,” He whispers, almost doubting the truth in it. “I’m safe.”
They stay like that for a bit, wrapped in each other’s arms. It was quiet, and it was peaceful. It was what barty needed. He needed to feel safe. He needed to feel loved.
“Can I see your injuries? Please?” Evan asks softly.
Barty nods, reluctantly pulling away. He slips off the hoodie he put on, and Evan is immediately met with his blood stained clothes and bruise littered skin. Evan swallows, trying to stay calm.
Then Barty lifts his shirt up, and it feels like the room freezes. Deep, dark bruises and cuts filled his torso. “Oh Barty…”
“It doesn’t hurt that bad.” Barty says, trying to play off the pain.
“You can barely walk. I’m sure it hurts more than you are letting on,” Evan sighs. “Let’s get you some clean clothes, yeah?”
Barty nods, and Evan takes him to his room. He moves towards the dresser, grabbing some clothes and handing them to Barty. “Look, clothes that don’t have blood on them.”
Barty smiles slightly, taking the clothes. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. Go ahead and change, I will make some coffee. You look like you could use some.”
Evan leaves the room, and Barty changes out of the bloody clothes. It felt comforting to wear Evan’s clothes. They were almost the same size, so it fit just like Barty’s, but it was still Evan’s, and that alone was more comforting than anything else.
He walked back downstairs, and Evan was sitting in the living room, a cup of coffee in his hand, and another on the coffee table in front of the couch.
Barty sits down beside Evan, trying to be as close as possible.
“You still seem shaken.” Evan comments, taking Barty’s hand in his own.
“Was just scared,” Barty mumbles, taking a sip of his coffee. “I didn’t know if I was even going to make it here without passing out, let alone know if you were going to let me stay-”
“Love, of course I would let you stay. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I was just scared you wouldn’t. There was a lot running through my mind.” Barty looks down again, messing with the bottom of his hoodie.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Evan says, setting his coffee down on the table in front of them, and pulling Barty into his arms again.
“Me too.” Barty mumbles, laying his head on Evan’s shoulder.
“I’m glad you fought past the thoughts and came here. I don’t know what I would have done if you got severely hurt.”
They stayed like that for most of the day, just sitting with each other. It was peaceful.
Maybe neither of them knew what would happen when summer break came. Maybe Barty would have to live in Evan’s closet secretly, or maybe he would have to find somewhere else to live. All they knew was that Barty was not going back home, and that was what mattered.
Sure, there were so many unknown factors in this, but they could ignore that for a while. What mattered right now was that Barty was safe. Barty was safe, and his father was never going to hurt him again.