Winter Break
As the end of the term approached, Barty’s teachers began to pile on more and more homework, with orders to complete it over the holidays. Barty hated homework. Ever since his detention, his animosity for it increased significantly. He found it incredibly difficult to concentrate, never being able to sit still long enough to complete the bloody thing. And then, just as Barty had almost finished the work, his teachers piled even more homework onto him, crushing him under the weight of their expectations.
Barty tried not to feel resentful towards his friends. His friends that completed homework as soon as it was assigned, that studied before topic tests and that were at the top of all their classes. Evan and Regulus had made school an ongoing competition, trying to score higher than the other on every test. Barty had only just managed to bring his classes to a passing grade, averaging from a Poor at the start of the term, to an Acceptable now, and that was enough for him.
It didn’t matter if he was the best at the practical elements; if he couldn’t do the theory, he would fail the class. Yes, whenever they learnt a new spell in Charms or Transfiguration, he was the first to pick it up. His teachers had remarked, on multiple occasions, how strong his magic was, especially for an 11-year-old. It didn't matter that in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Barty could identify any curse they’d studied just by what it looked like, just by its colour and its shape.
Anyway, homework wasn’t Barty’s main worry at the moment. It was December 15, and Professor McGonongal was asking his Transfiguration class if anyone wanted to stay back over the holidays.
“With the holidays approaching, I’d like to ask any students planning to remain at Hogwarts over the break to let me know by the end of next week,” she said. “Thank you, you’re dismissed.” Barty thought about it. He liked the idea of Christmas, even though his parents didn't celebrate it. It was a muggle thing. The only things Barty knew about Christmas came from a history book he found in his father’s study a couple years back.
Barty didn’t want to go home for Christmas. He wanted to stay at Hogwarts, even if he’d be alone. Evan and Regulus were also going home for the holidays.
“I’ll try to invite you, and we can hang out like we used to!” Evan said, packing his trunk with his clothes neatly. “I’d love to have you over.” He grinned, jumping onto his trunk to snap it closed.
Barty smiled, letting the comforting thought of Evan’s house wash over him, before letting it go. It was unlikely that Barty’s parents would let him visit Evan over the holidays. Barty’s father had been very busy with work before Barty started Hogwarts, and if his dad was working anything like he had been back in September, he wouldn’t want anyone to disturb him.
Barty sighed. “Thanks, Ev. I dunno, I don’t wanna go home, to be honest. I’d rather stay here.” Barty kicked the foot of his bed in frustration. Regulus looked up from his Potions homework. He had already packed his trunk.
“I get it. I don’t really want to go home either, but my parents sent me a letter the day before yesterday, requesting my presence during winter break,” Regulus sighed. Barty only just noticed the slight lilt that affected Regulus’s language, the delicacy in which he selected his words. It was obvious what kind of environment he had been raised in.
Barty was surprised at Regulus’s attitude. He always thought that Regulus liked his parents. Barty nodded, appreciating his honesty. “Yeah… maybe next year we can ask our parents to let us stay here over winter break,” Barty said hopefully. Regulus hummed, gazing out of the window. “Oh… I have to go. I should be back soon, though. One last round of Snap?” He asked, tilting his head with a smile. He didn’t wait for an answer before padding to the door and slipping out of the dorm.
Barty looked at the closed door in curiosity. “Where do you reckon he’s going?” Barty asked, rolling over on his bed to face Evan.
“I dunno. I still think he has a secret girlfriend he's not telling us about,” Evan snickered, walking over to Barty’s bed. Barty laughed, reaching out with his leg to kick Evan. He missed, and Evan kicked him back, swiftly.
“Ouch! Fucker,” Barty exclaimed, rubbing his leg. Evan grinned, leaning down to ruffle Barty’s hair. He dodged him, standing up to push Evan down onto the bed. Evan fell gracelessly, Barty giggling at the way his hair flopped.
Barty quickly ambled to the foot of his trunk to get away, wand poised to cast a charm.
“What are you doing?” Evan questioned, previous quarrel forgotten.
“Packing my trunk,” Barty answered. “Accio clothes!” Barty yelled, pointing his wand at the open trunk. From all over the room, Barty’s clothes zoomed towards the trunk. Socks under beds, cloaks forgotten in wardrobes, ties hanging from hooks. Everything hurtled so quickly that Evan let out a yelp and covered his head with his hands to avoid getting hit. Barty laughed, snapping his trunk shut.
“H-How do you do that?” Evan wondered, eyes wide. “I can only summon, like, three things at a time. And only if I ask for them specifically! You just said ‘clothes’ and everything came at once.” Evan looked up at Barty expectantly, as if he knew the answer. Barty shrugged.
“I dunno, I guess I just have strong magic.” Barty tried to act aloof to the conversation, but he actually loved impressing Evan. It made him feel giddy. Evan looked at him with wonder and jealousy.
“Ok, I’m back,” a soft voice announced, holding a deck of Exploding Snap in his hands. Regulus grinned, black hair falling into his eyes. “Anyone wanna play?”
***
Barty stepped onto the train, trying to find a carriage for him and his friends. Luckily, he quickly stumbled upon an empty one. Barty slid the door open, letting Evan pass through first with Regulus following through right after, hauling a cage containing his owl. Just as Barty was about to enter the carriage, he saw a group of Gryffindor first-years laughing and talking about muggle music in the carriage opposite. Barty curled his lip in disgust, anger prickling under his skin, shaking his head and stomping into the carriage.
“You right, Bee?” Evan asked, opening a carton of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Barty rolled his eyes, throwing himself onto the seat next to Evan and crossing his arms.
“Yeah, whatever. Just some stupid Gryffindors.” Regulus looked up at him so quickly that his book fell out of his lap. Barty frowned, shooting Regulus a weird look. “You alright, mate?” He asked cautiously. Regulus blinked, hastily reaching for a Cauldron Cake.
“Yeah. Fine.” Regulus held the cake on an angle so the crumbs wouldn’t drop onto his book, settling back in his seat to continue reading. Barty shared a look with Evan, who shrugged and started talking about their plans for the next few days.
“You remember my address, right?” Evan asked, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. Barty scoffed, grasping Evan’s shoulder and shaking him.
“How could I forget? It’s the one place I will always remember,” Barty laughed softly, looking up at Evan. “You’re daft, Ev.”
Evan raised his chin, gazing defiantly down at Barty. “I’m just making sure my best friend doesn’t send the letter to the wrong house.” Barty shook his head again through a laugh, resting his head on Evan’s shoulder.
“Whatever you say, Ev.”
***
Barty’s mother was waiting for him at the station. Barty said goodbye to his friends, Regulus telling him, “It’s only two weeks, we can make it,” before stepping elegantly off the train to his parents. Barty’s mother enveloped him in a hug, which Barty returned. It was nice to see his mum.
“Father not here?” Barty wondered, craning his neck to look around the station. His mother rested a comforting hand on the back of his head.
“Unfortunately not, love. He’s stuck at the ministry,” she said in a tender voice, her eyes sad. Barty didn’t know why, though. Annoyance shot through him and he hunched his shoulders. Something unidentifiable settled in his stomach, and Barty resisted the urge to snap at his mother. He wasn't a little kid anymore! There was no need to treat him like one.
“Fine. That’s fine.” Barty turned on his heel, making his way out into the muggle world. Once he made it through the barrier, he leaned on a pillar, taking deep breaths. Barty always tried to control his anger around his mother. She was the only one who cared for him, after all.
Barty’s mother exited soon after, with the family house-elf who was carrying his trunk above her head with magic. Barty pushed off the wall to walk beside them, and smiled at the creature when he saw her.
“Hi, Winky,” he said. Winky looked up at him, bowing low to greet Barty.
“Hello, Master Crouch. May I assist you with anything?” She asked, a crease forming between her eyebrows.
“Oh, no, thank you,” Barty said hurriedly. He didn’t want her to go into any extra trouble. His mother smiled, reaching out her arm once they reached a place to apparate from.
“Ready?” She asked. Barty braced himself and nodded.
After they landed in the front yard, Barty leaning on his mother for support, she led him up the path of Crouch Manor. She patted his arm in a motherly way. Barty could practically feel the kindness radiating off her. He had missed her.
“How is school, love? Is it everything you thought it would be?” Barty was so excited to go to Hogwarts; he read and studied ‘Hogwarts: A History’ obsessively before he went, daydreaming about long days spent running around with Evan and learning how to wield magic.
“Yeah, actually. I love learning new spells, but I hate the homework,” he said. His mother chuckled, shoulders shaking as they entered the front hall.
“Yes, I remember that I had a similar sentiment to that when I went to Hogwarts.” She sighed wistfully, hanging her cloak on a hanger, and taking Barty’s coat to the laundry. He had somehow gotten cake on it.
“Oh, and I made a new friend! Remember, you sent us chocolate,” Barty exclaimed, kicking off his shoes to follow his mother to the kitchen. “His name is Regulus Black.” Barty’s mum froze in front of the kitchen, and he almost walked right into her. She took a deep breath, swiftly walking into the room where Winky was already taking a roasted chicken out of the oven. Ms. Crouch nodded, seemingly to herself, and turned to face her son.
“Black? Barty, I am glad that you have made a friend, but maybe don’t tell your father about Regulus.” She looked away, avoiding eye contact. Barty frowned, opening his mouth to ask why, when she continued. “It’s just that the Black family have a lot of… opinions when it comes to the ministry,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t want to upset your father any more than he already is.” She sighed.
“Why don’t you go wash up for dinner? I’m sure you must be hungry!” Ms. Crouch put on an energetic smile so genuine that Barty had trouble seeing through it.
Barty entered his room, stacks of books on his desk and a poster of the Weird Sisters from that one time his mother took him when he was eight still stuck to the wall beside his bed. His room felt so small and lonely compared to his dorm back in Hogwarts. His trunk was already at the foot of his bed, unopened. Barty’s thoughts were whirling with what his mother had told him. The Black family has a lot of opinions about the ministry? I need to ask Regulus about it when I get back.
Barty thought about writing to Evan, and quickly pulled out a piece of parchment. He needed Evan’s clear thinking when it came to situations like this.
Ev,
I just learnt that the Black family have bad ‘opinions’ of the ministry. Do you think you can ask your parents about that?
Hope you’re enjoying your hols so far.
Bee
Barty ran to the sitting room where there was a spotted horned owl sitting in a cage near a window. “Hey, Speck,” Barty greeted. He had named the owl when he was nine. Barty thought the name was cool when his mother laughed at his suggestion, but when his father curled his lip in disdain and asked, “can’t you think of a better name?” Barty thought it was stupid. However, his mother had frowned at his father, an d let Barty name the owl Speck after her husband left the room.
Barty opened the cage and quickly tied the letter to Speck’s leg. “Evan’s house, do you remember where that is?” Speck hooted softly, took a few of the almonds that Barty had in his palm as an offering, and took off through the open window. Barty sighed with relief. Although he couldn’t see his friends for two weeks, he could still keep in contact with them.
Barty heard a loud CRACK outside and he rushed to the window to see his father striding up the path, navy blue robes flowing in the wind. A weight fell through his body, landing somewhere near his navel. Barty rushed to scramble back into the kitchen, grabbing three glasses to take to the dining table just to have something to do. He could hear his mother’s voice from the front hall, and she was presumably taking Mr. Crouch’s coat and briefcase, like a good wife should. Barty held the kitchen door open for Winky when she carried the roasted chicken to the table. He didn’t have to, but when Winky squeaked out a “thank you!” Barty felt slightly lighter.
Barty stood behind his seat, looking down at the table, waiting for his father to enter the room. When Barty’s mother entered the dining room, she stood behind her seat as well. Mr. Crouch’s heavy footfalls got louder until he was in Barty’s peripheral vision, indicating that he could sit down. Mr. Crouch cut the chicken that Winky and Ms. Crouch had been roasting all afternoon without a second thought. He didn’t even ask Barty how he had been the past few months. Mr. Crouch simply cut himself a piece and began to eat.
Barty’s mother shot her husband a glare that he didn’t acknowledge. She huffed quietly, and cut Barty a piece of meat for him. Barty muttered a low “thanks, Mother,” and she smiled at him. When the silence got to be a bit too much, Mr. Crouch spoke.
“Boy.” Barty put down his fork immediately and swallowed his food.
“Yes, Father.”
“You got a detention.”
“...Yes, Father.”
Mr. Crouch fixed him with a cold stare. “You are not to get another one, do you understand, boy?”
“Yes, Father.” Barty bowed his head, his stomach threatening to upend itself onto his plate. He hated how his father could make him feel so small.
Mr. Crouch wiped his mouth with a napkin, standing up with his plate still full. “I have been named as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” he announced. Barty’s mother covered her mouth with her hands.
“Oh, that’s lovely, darling!” She said, happy for her husband. Mr. Crouch just nodded sharply.
“I have some extra work to do. Thank you for dinner,” he said stiffly. Barty didn't know what a Minister for a Law of Magical whatever was, and if his father was one, he didn’t want to know. Mr. Crouch left the room, leaving his wife and son behind.
“I’m sorry, love. He’s just been stressed with work.” Barty’s mother sent him another smile, but this one didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Why don’t you go up to bed, hmm? I’ll pack up here.” Barty nodded, suddenly feeling his exhaustion crash into him.
Barty’s thoughts were sluggish even though it was only nine o'clock, and he tumbled into bed, thinking that he had a lot to talk to his friends about when he got back to school.