One more drink and I´ll be fine
You´re the living proof
He drops the glass, it hits the table and rolls to the floor, glass shattering and adding more fragments around the floor.
He gulps down the drink, grimacing.
One more.
Barty´s sitting in his room, the guests are just arriving and he knows that it´s time to go downstairs, introduce himself as the perfect son and heir of the Crouch family.
He knows the routine, small talk, drink wine and more small talk, get people to like him, be the perfect son.
And be disappointment afterward, get told everything he did wrong.
“You didn´t smile when offering a drink”
“You didn´t laugh at Mrs. Greengrass´ joke”
“You didn´t ask to be executed”
“You didn´t, you didn´t, you didn´t, you did not. You Did Not. You. Did. Not.”
“You´re a disgrace in our family.”
“You are not good enough.”
Another glass breaks.
The moonlight stares at Barty through the window, caressing his face and reminding him of the light.
Barty Crouch Jr was a long time ago done with his dad but he didn´t have a way out.
Until his mother died.
Are you still playing the game?
Or breaking the rules?
Barty had realized many things after the death of his mother. Many of them included his father.
He would never be enough. And that was fine because he had his people who considered him to be family, he was always enough for them.
But there was this shift, and the two Crouches left did only have each other.
Except that wasn´t true.
Greetings were heard from downstairs, Winky welcoming the guests to their home.
Barty grabbed his tie and put it on- correctly.
He would put it on correctly only once in his lifetime, and this was the day for it.
I can see all the pain (before the party´s over)
In the way that you move
He left his room, shut the door behind, and quietly went downstairs. The entrance was full of people, all smiling when seeing him. Barty didn´t greet them but went to the ballroom and through it to the kitchen. He didn´t think speaking immediately would be a good idea with the shots he´d taken.
He waited.
It didn´t long for Crouch Sr, younger Barty´s dear father to come looking for him, especially when Barty wasn´t in his room.
I got a soul on fire
I´m gonna raise roofs tonight
“Bartemius. Everyone has already arrived and you need to make a good impression of yourself. They have heard of your OWLs that were beyond average and there´s a status to hold.” Bartemius Crouch. Sr says, looking already irritated by younger Barty´s doings. “Don´t you dare to make a fool out of me.”
Barty smiles at his father. “How would I dare to do that? So silly of me. I will come there in a second, but you seem to be a little irritated. Couldn´t have that, could we? C´mon, have a drink, here.” Barty says, indeed offering his father a drink. He felt his anger rise the second his father showed up and that´s just what he needs. Make him lose his calm.
Crouch Sr narrows his eyes but knows that it´s true. He can´t be rude even a bit so he takes the drink, but before he can take a sip Barty continues.
“Do you remember Evan Rosier?”
“Of course, his family is one of the sacred 28.” Of course, he doesn´t even remember that Evan is his roommate. Classmate.
“Yeah. So I figured I´d like to tell you something. You see, Father, that me and Rosier are together.” Barty says with a simple smile, watching as his father´s face goes through confusion, shame, and then anger, full hatred. His grip tightens around the glass, knuckles going white.
“What did you say.”
“Me and Evan are together, and after Hogwarts, we´re gonna get married.” That´s half a lie, they don´t see a reason to get married nor have they thought about it too much. Barty moves to the entryway of the kitchen.
I got a soul on fire
I´m gonna make moves tonight
It takes eight seconds. The shouting and the glass breaks.
The room lit up on fire.
More shouting, but not because of anger but pain.
Barty Crouch Jr watches as his father burns, taking steps back when the fire seeks out of the kitchen, flaming up everything it touches.
And he smiles while that.
The fire heats his face as Barty watches the flames take over his father´s body, burning and melting everything of the elder Crouch.
Then he runs to the ballroom and shouts “Fire in the kitchen!”
He runs, trying to find Winky and grabbing her arm on the way out.
Everyone else is running now too, the entrance full and the fire taking over the house. Burning everything down with his owner.
The cold breeze of autumn nights hits Barty´s face and a shiver goes down his spine. He lets go of Winky, apparating.
I got a soul on fire
I'm gonna make moves tonight
I got a soul on fire
Before the party's over
“It´s a nice view, you didn´t lie about that,” Evan says, sitting on the ground and watching as Barty´s past burns down.
Barty turns around, a grin on his face immediately when he sees Evan. “I would never lie about something like this,” he says, walking over to Evan and offering him a hand.
The thing is that everything and nothing changed when Mrs Crouch died.
Bartemius Crouch Sr was hopeless and didn´t know how to deal with the grief of his dead wife.
The thing Crouch Sr knew always was how to make others feel worthless. So that´s what he did.
Barty never hated his home, he disliked it, preferred Hogwarts, but never hated home.
Until the bruises were the new normal, until nothing was good enough anymore until the bones started breaking.
Until he was every holiday at home, under the imperius spell.
Evan takes Barty´s hand and Barty pulls him up. Evan looks at the burning house again, as fascinated as Barty is.
But there´s one more thing to make his father´s death everything and nothing at the same.
So he cups his boyfriend´s face, turning it to face him, and kisses Evan while the house burns down.
I got a soul on fire
It suddenly had a very different meaning, and it was fine and more.
Because Barty was free, his father was dead in the house haunted, burned with the flames from Barty´s burning heart of revenge and love.
The love was never directed at his father.
But at the boy in his hands, the friends who Barty considered family, and the want of being something of his own.