Monday 22nd July 1978.
Bartys pov-
Fighting is a conflicting thing.
Causing chaos, fighting and pure destruction has always called Bartys name. If there was a job that involved causing as much of a nuisance as possible, then maybe Barty would have had an answer for what he wanted to do all those times his dad asked, expecting the answer of politics, only ever getting the suggestion of unemployment, sugar babying his way through life, or finally committing to his lifelong dream of being a thief and finding new ways to blow up Gringotts with Pandora.
The first people to successfully break into the safest place in the world, not a bad reputation, unless you ask his father.
Suffice to say, his dad was never particularly happy with those answers.
But in the end that didn’t matter, he is out disappointing the same man once again, the desire to both revel and cower away from that knowledge a constant fight within his head.
It's not that he wants to dissapoint his father, in fact, he doesn’t want to disappoint his father at all, he doesn’t want to be the let down he has been called his entire life, the leech on his fathers very existence.
But, he also doesn’t want to wear the suit and cast the votes. He doesn't want to back up motions he doesn't believe in, especially when he knows he could make better ones.
If his dad knew him better, no, fuck that. If his dad knew him at all, maybe Barty could’ve convinced himself all the disappointment directed at him was because Barty Crouch Sr knew how much his son could amount to. Knew he could follow in his fathers aspirations and become the Minister and he was scared.
Because he knew he could overtake his father. And if his father knew him at all, maybe he could convince himself that fear was the reason his father gave up on him so easily, leaving only half arsed attempts to get his son into politics after Barty made it clear for the thousandth time that he didn’t care.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
The truth is, his dad doesn’t know him at all.
Doesn’t know the hat considered Ravenclaw.
Doesn’t know Barty could surpass him in politics in a heartbeat, not only smart enough to do so, but that Slytherin streak his father doesn’t appreciate giving him the manipulation skills to make it in that world.
After all that’s what politicians are so often called, snakes.
But his dad doesn’t know him. And there wasn’t a job to create chaos.
There was nothing for Barty when he left school, nothing except to follow his friends wherever they go. Because there was no way on earth he was going to go back to that house.
So follow his friends he did- most of them anyway.
And he found his calling in the form of being a spy to a side of a war that wasn’t known, that wasn’t anything.
He found his calling in blowing up quidditch pitches using some of the strongest spells he created with Pandora, the intricate ones too.
Using the damage as a game, how close can you get without making a hit? How many death eaters can you take down without it looking intentional? How long can he play out this back and forth with Evan, taking turns scoring points, before he lets it all lose and destroys everything in his path?
The answer is not long at all, he keeps firing, and shooting, the smoke filling his lungs reminding him he’s alive. The billowing black fog of it all hiding his movement from the one person on the pitch who could call him out in a second.
Because that’s another one of Barty’s extensive list of failures as his father so eloquently put it.
Dorcas.
Dorcas who is now blazing her way across the pitch, taking out more death eaters than her freshly graduated peers, adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Watching her cut people down so simply in her wake, only getting stumped on the odd death eater here or there- and never for too long- ignites something in Barty.
Pride.
Envy.
Because she isn’t on their side. Because she knows all their tricks, because they know all of hers. And because Remus gets her, and Barty doesn’t. He pushed her away, and where is the fair in all of that?
He wants his friend back, the desire to run across the pitch strong, but he sees as the blonde she so hardly strays from nearly catches a hit, and all of Dorcas’ defence goes to her girlfriend.
And for the first time, Barty sees the singular crack in Dorcas' armour that he had spent years searching for.
The one she never displayed in Slytherin duels, the one she didn’t have, because Marlene McKinnon was never there in their training.
But the crack is open now, and Barty finds himself filling it in as one of the death eaters, whose name he hadn’t bothered to learn sneaks up behind her.
He throws a bomb spell towards the death eater at the same time he watches a glimmer of shear magic surround the two girls.
A shield spell, an intertwined one that they both must have thrown up at the same time.
He curses himself internally, hoping his stupid lack of faith in Dorcas didn’t get him caught. But when he turns to move away, he feels something on the back of his neck- the weight of a gaze surely, but he keeps moving. Ignoring it until another feeling settles over him and he is whirling around to meet a member of the order.
Before he even has a second to draw his wand, Evan is stepping in front of him and starting the duel with Moody, and Barty steps up next to him, his own spells falling in rhythm with the boy beside him as they continue to fight.
Dorcas not gone from his mind per say, but on the outskirts for the time being.
****
“I’m fed up of this.”
“Barty-“
“No, none of them are back, why aren’t they back?” he protests quickly, pushing his legs off of Evans lap to stand up and pace in front of the dwindling fire in the living room.
“Reg said it might take a while.” Evan argues back, but he is already standing up after his boyfriend, and despite the comforting hand Barty feels placed on his shoulder, he can already sense the unease that has been brewing in his boyfriend since they woke up on the couch to an almost empty house.
“What if he went home?” Evan offers again, clearly trying to ease Bartys mind away from spiralling about how the mission they don’t know a thing about could have gone wrong.
Steer his mind away from the fact that it is the next morning and still none of the boys are home.
Steer his mind away from self-destruction. And he is doing so by pushing forward his own worries about Regulus being in his own home. His family home. Allowing his own fear to flicker through to distract Barty from his own worries as both boyfriends play worst case scenario in their heads. Never quite agreeing on what would be the worst.
“He wouldn’t.” Barty starts, but even he can feel the bitterness of the lie on his tongue.
“Don’t lie to me.” Evan snaps back immediately, “You don’t lie to me.”, and just like that their roles are starting to reverse, one of them always on the brink of snapping as the other tries so desperately to cling and pull them back.Sometimes Barty likes to join his boyfriend on the edge, but not over this.
“Fine,” he concedes quickly, moving towards the door before Evan gets a second to catch his thoughts, practically feeling the dynamic shift between them again as Evan fights back for control of the situation, “let’s go find him then.”
“Showing up to his house, if he is there, will only make things worse.” Evans tone is cautious, verging on reprimand.
“If I go, not you.”
“Barty-“ his boyfriends sigh is exasperated, but he can see the worry still lingering in his expression that shouldn’t be too difficult to sway.
“I just want to check.”
“And I just don’t want him to get in more trouble because of us.” Barty hears the stress of the word as his boyfriend talks, and realises the fear permeating the room has been hanging around a lot longer than he thought it had been.
“And if he does we’ll fix it.” His tone is strong, but the way his boyfriend looks at him, it’s as if it came out breathless, following the crash of tears.
They lock eyes for a moment, Evans mind clearly whirring through possibilities as Barty waits for him to latch onto one.
“Let’s go to Pandoras.” It's the final offer Barty can tell, so he takes it.
“Route of the problem?” he asks his boyfriend, already falling into step with him as they move towards the front door. Readying themselfs to go to the house where all the secrets seem to be kept. Where they are sent into different rooms when the others converse. Where the others would've met before they left for the mission.
“Route of the problem," he confirms, turning to quirk a smile at Barty, the look on his face making his stomach tighten, “ besides, James and Sirius aren’t here either.”
Barty turns back to look at the house, stumped for a moment as Evan continues, “Not that you noticed.”
“Yeah well, they aren’t very noticeable.”
“Oh yeah?” and the cocky smile on his boyfriends face twists his nerves up again, “Is that why Regulus starting spraying you with water every time he caught you gawking at his brother in 4th year? Because he wasn’t that noticeable?”
“You know what-“
“Look,” and Evans expressions sobers so quick Barty finds himself unconsciously switching back into the comforting position yet again, “If they’re not here either, it’s likely something with the mission.”
“They’re going to be ok.” He hears his own voice break the silence, the determination in it not up for debate, he will go on a killing spree if they’re not ok, and he’s sure Evan wont appreciate him for that.
“Oh, I know.” he watches his boyfriends expression steal, and feels a maniacal smirk working it’s way onto his face in response, “I for one am rather fed up being out of the loop Barty, aren’t you?”
And without another word, Evan grabs his arm and whisks them away.
Evans pov-
Being friends with Slytherins is a mix of unexpected dangerous chaos, and fun.
It prepares you for a lot of things, as well as just existing in the Slytherin common room from the mere age of 11, the stigma towards the house around the school meaning you had to learn to adjust or you just wouldn't survive.
Growing up in slytherin meant you got good at adapting to bad situations, and because you grow up in that environment, (an environment ruled by a pompous git with a beard who couldn’t give a single shit about any of the kids in his school, especially Slytherins), surviving and adapting became second nature.
It become intrinsic, because your mind is learning and adapting as you are exploring the Slytherin side of school.
But no matter how much being forced to adapt and be on alert at almost all times was tiring, no matter how much he sometimes just wanted a break. He found now, that it was worth it. He had spent 7 years preparing for his life after school, even if he didn't realise it at the time.
Even if joining the death eaters could never be easy. His upbringing had made it tolerable. Because no matter how much his skin itched with every word out of those prejudiced mouths, he could drown it out. Because as awful as it was, it was normal. And Slytherin meant self preservation, not concerning levels of morality that lead to you making yourself an easy target, that lead to you getting yourself killed.
It's what a lot of people don't understand about war. Although strong voices that stand up against injustice, reminding people they are not alone in their views and that their rebellion against rising oppression are good. They aren't everything. The trojan horse was quiet, it Infiltrated, no one saw it coming and that bought its success.
You cannot judge a book by it's cover because the cover is so often wrong. The cover is made up to be appealing, made to get people to pick it up. But in the grand scheme of things it means so little.
Gryffindors stand up against injustice, unwilling to let anyone view them as anything other than moral perfection.
But Slytherins? They know self preservation, they hide in plain view to find the most effective way to come out on top.
Gryffindors fight tooth and nail while Slytherins are using the back door, plays three and four steps ahead of their every other move. Tactics ahead of even themselves sometimes as they open up new strategies without even seeing them coming.
So yes, Evan may listen to the prejudiced views, yes he may outwardly support them. But the battlefield, where he and Barty and fighting against their own, knocking out death eaters under guise of destruction? That is where they are making action. That is where they are making a difference. And that difference is good.
So no, no experience could make the Death eaters a simple experience, but it could made it tolerable, and that can be the difference between life and death. Because no matter how bad it all got, he was never worried, because he knew how to blend in.
He knew how to fade into the background whilst also keeping himself so upstanding no one would doubt he was a pureblooded aristocratic asshole.
It was a quality he shared with Regulus, one he could sympathise with. One Barty, Dora and Dorcas couldn’t understand, because they were never ones to quietly blend in.
Barty was a loud and reckless spirit. Always so proud of his rebellion and determination to spite every single thing someone ever believes of him.
When it came to Dorcas, her morals came above most. He didn’t doubt for a second that if she knew their plan she would support them, she was a Slytherin after all, she didn’t care about showboating her morals, as long as she was acting on them- something Sirius could never understand. But she was happy, she was doing what she felt was right, and they weren't going to drag her back down.So they left it alone.
And Pandora, she could be quiet, she could be loud. Neither was ever quite intentional, she felt how she felt and she acted on it, never a care how that opinion presented itself. She could be quiet and blend into the shadows easily, he had no doubt. He also knew she would do that for them in a heartbeat, of that he was certain. But it wasn’t her default.
No, fading into the background was left to him and Regulus, they had learnt how to dissappear. They were good at it. It made joining the death eaters less worrying than it perhaps should have been, because he could just… blend.
Another thing that was interesting about being raised in Slytherin was the people.
He had never quite bitten into all the blood prejudice he was raised around. Yes, he went along with it, and yes, he didn’t question it. But he was never the biggest advocate either.
He just, didn’t care. His parents wanted him to behave and believe one way, and he wanted to not get in trouble.
It was a very easy middle ground to find.
And because he had never fallen too deep into it, it was a very easy middle ground to subtly step out of without ever warning his family to his change in views, without warning the world. Without making it difficult for himself to follow his friends into war.
Some may call it cowardice, he called it survival.
So, he met his friends, he lost his weak views. Strengthened his new ones. And he continued his life in Slytherin, and he started to doubt the sorting hat.
You see, everyone is complicated. Evan knows this, the idea of having allies and house pride and all sounds fun, but it effecting friendships, well that all felt very dramatic, especially with his sister being in Ravenclaw.
He learnt very quickly just how trapping the houses felt in his first year at school.
His sister was a Ravenclaw, yet she ran around blowing things up with Barty.
Barty was a Slytherin, yet he was always getting perfect grades, the idea of failing to do as such preposterous to him, despite how much he argues otherwise.
Dorcas was strong, determined- a leader, but a leader full of cunning that made her Slytherin. People trusting her, not just because she is powerful, but because of her spells, her reaction time, her knowledge making her sharp.
And Regulus? He is one of the most cunning people Evan has ever met- You could argue he was a true Slytherin through and through... until you looked into his brain.
The point was, his friends weren’t ordinary Slytherins and Ravenclaws, they were masterminds, they had the best of both houses all wrapped up into one excellent package, an excellent dynamic that worked beautifully individually, and magnificently in tandem.
And that left him alone, not as smart, not as cunning.
Just not.
He was a Slytherin, sure. But the Ravenclaw side of the brain that amplified that skill to perfection? He left that to his sister.
Or, he usually does. Until things go to shit, until he gets curious.
Until he is fed up of being left in the dark.
When the whirling sensation stopped, he let go of Bartys arm, eyes settling on the door in front of him, walking up to it, head straight, pureblood superiority emanating off of him.
He didn’t knock, instead he moved with the type of grace usually reserved to Regulus, drawing his wand out in one smooth moment and blasting the door back, a bang reverberating through the house.
He still didn’t stop.
He stepped over the threshold, moving forward and into the kitchen where he laid eyes on Sirius and Remus, both red in the face, clearly having just stopped bickering like an old married couple.
He let himself pause for a moment, eyes flickering around the room and taking it in.
There wasn’t much to note. A Handful of mugs littered against the side of the sink, no other mess around.
It was all rather clean.
He watched as Sirius went to open his mouth, the other boys eyes darting between Evan and slightly over his shoulder to where Evan assumed Barty had caught up with him.
“Where’s my sister?” Evan cuts him off before he can even start to speak, eyes darting around the room expectantly before settling his eyes on back onto Black, not blinking just watching.
“In her room-“ the words seem to tumble off of his tongue as he looks on in confusion, probably lost in regards to the utter blankness Evan had schooled his face into.
As the Gryffindor goes to open his mouth again, Evan just turns and moves towards the bedrooms, making it five paces forward before the sister in question is stepping out of the entryway to one of the rooms, shutting the door behind her and blocking his path.
“Evan.” She nods her head in an oddly amicable greeting, before her eyes flick over his shoulder to the other side of the kitchen where the lovebirds stand, “What are you doing here?”
“Wondering where my roomates are.” He offers back calmly, holding her eye, she locks into the gaze with him, unwilling to back down to even the pettiest of childhood rivalries.
They stand there for a full minute before a cough can be heard behind them, and Sirius’ voice picks up, “Why don’t you just go home, and then we’ll talk later?”
Evan finally breaks his sisters gaze, she looks triumphant at his concete, but really he was just waiting for someone to else to start the conversation, and he got it.
He turns his head to look towards the elder Black brother and flashes him a blank smile, “Brilliant,” he moves closer to the kitchen countertop, placing himself gently on one of the stools, folding his hands in front of him as Barty follows up behind him, standing to his side like some sort of bodyguard, or partner, “now will that be before or after you tell us what’s going on?” he asks, allowing his gaze to flick between his sister and Sirius.
There is no need to look to Remus, from everything he has been able to tell, the other boy has no clue what is going on either.
“Nothings going on-“ Sirius starts at the same time his sisters voice breaks in.
“It’s none of your business.”
He watches them both a minute longer, clocking how Sirius’ gaze flicks to Pandoras once for guidance, his sister staring resolutely at Evan instead, giving nothing away.
He choses the weaker option.
He could go for flair, break down the tougher competitor, it’s what Barty would do, what Dorcas would do.
But Evan is here for efficiency.
He locks his gaze onto Sirius, “What’s going on?”
The other boy moves slightly before stilling his body and relaxing his face into composure, reminding Evan briefly of the shared upbringings they had.
But he also knows Sirius through the death eater meetings, through childhood, through Regulus.
He knows Sirius can fake it, can lie but he also knows he is worse at it when he doesn’t feel a situation to be adequately threatening to him.
So Evan eases his face into a soft smile, ever so slightly creating a picture of youth and of innocence, and looks to the boy to try again.
“Where’s Reg?” he tries, offering up even more familiarity and comfort on the silver platter of a question.
But Sirius tenses. And Evan sits up straight.
Where is Regulus?
His mind whirs for a second, panic setting in, and as it does, he feels it.
A negative energy, a pull. A reaction to his panic, something trying to draw him in, seeing him as a tether.
Dark magic, too dark to be in Slytherin, too bad to be in his own home.
Definitely too dark to be near Pandora.
He lifts himself off his seat hearing Barty express his slight confusion behind him.
He wanders around the table, before reaching up to a cupboard and running his hand along it.
He feels the magic thrumming under his hand, feeding negativity into him, feasting on the fear already lingering.
It feels like a death eater, but so much worse.
It feels like Nagini, but so much stronger.
He had felt this deceased touch before, it was just never strong enough to be questioned.
He curses himself internally at the thought of writing something so serious off, and turns around to his sister.
“Where’s Regulus?”
She stares back, stubborn as ever.
“Is he a snake?” he offers, an edge to his voice. Waiting to see if someone reacts, if they care that he can tell something in their house is reminiscence of Voldemorts pet, if that something is new. If that something has appeared the same time Regulus had disappeared. He watches, but no one in the room quite reacts to it.
Confusion flitters over the others faces, and he leans into it.
“Oh, so you don’t know?”
They all watch him another moment, his sister gaze as fierce as ever, before Sirius breaks,“ Know what?”
He answers him without even looking to the other boy.
“Well, I assume,” he taps his hand against the cupboard, “this was your mission. And it feels like Nagini.” He offers, placing his cards face up on the table to get a reaction he can work with.
It works. Sirius’ breath catches, and he moves towards the cupboard, raising his own hand and feeling, he locks eyes with Pandora, and they watch each other for a moment, before they both turn to their respective company, ordering them to leave.
“No, I don’t think I will.” He turns back around, facing them all and leaning one hip against the counter, giving off a relaxed air around him that he doesn’t quite feel.
“Where is Regulus?” he asks again, and he watches Barty twitch slightly, fear and annoyance working its way into his body as he catches onto the fact that Regulus’ absence doesn’t seem to just be his own introversion, but rather, something to worry about.
He knows his boyfriend is itching to explode, to fight until everyone he cares about is in his line of sight. Ready to blow up with all the spells he carefully crafted with Pandora to have no counter. And he keeps an eye on it.
“It doesn’t matter.” Sirius’ voice breaks out.
Evan turns again, looks at Remus this time, finally bringing the other boy into the conversation,“
You don’t have a clue what they’re doing, do you?” he asks.
He expected annoyance, or some sort of loyalty to Sirius in his answer, but evidently Lupin has become just as annoyed as Evan at being left in the dark, he turns to Sirius, all but growling, “No.”
Evan leans into it.
“Do you know where James is?” he prods again, eyes stuck on the sandy haired boy.
“No.” his voice gets lower, annoyance seeping further into it.
“Is it like James, to know you’re here and not say hi?”
A flash of fear crosses both Sirius and Remus’ face at the same time, before Remus registers the matching look and his eyes get darker, “No.”
“Do you feel what’s in the cupboard?”
“Yes.”
“That was their mission.” He both asks and states it, because no, he doesn’t have confirmation but he doesn’t need it.
“Yes.” Lupin turns his body to fully face Sirius. And Evan watches the other boy gulp.
He turns his own body to face his sister, nodding to Barty over her shoulder.
“Barty no-“ his Sisters voice cuts out as she twists towards the boy in question trying to drag him back, but for once Evan is quicker, and he throws a reverse shield charm around her, stopping any of her spells from breaching the new boundary.
At the sound of the diversion, Sirius attempted to move forward and join his sister on the defence, but Remus, who Evan had riled up enough to turn on Sirius for a minute, grabs the boy in question, restraining him as his own magic begins radiating off of him in waves, surprisingly strong for a wizard untrained in wandless magic.
With no more deterrence preventing his movement, Barty makes his way to the bedroom, throwing open the door his sister had been blocking since she saw them.
The second it opens, the other two stop fighting, reluctant acceptance crossing their features as Barty stills and moves into the room.
They all wait for a moment, baited breath. Until sparks fly from the room and they rush in to the raised voices of Lily and Barty yelling at each other.
“What-“ he hears himself start before cutting off as his eyes fall upon Regulus lain still on the bed.
He feels his entire body freeze, none of him moving as he feels Bartys magic pulsating, stricken with grief.
“They’re alive, they’re alive.”
Three heads whip around in sync in response to his sisters voice, matching looks of desperation crossing their features.
“Since when was that in question?” Barty bites out, glaring at his sister with such venom unusual to see directed between the two of them.
“I’m sorry.” His sister looks between them all earnestly, but he cant see, his eyes are drifting back to the bed, latching onto Regulus’ much too still form.
“What,” a pause, “Happened?”