the champions
★ Chapter III: Barty
The sun is long below the horizon when Barty walks into the dimly lit Great Hall. The windows lining the walls are dark, and the glass reflects the ring of blue light surrounding the goblet in the center of the room. Even though curfew is almost in effect, a crowd of students is around the ring, all from different schools. Students watch and cheer as people put their names in, and friends jostle and push each other around, daring them to take the risk.
Barty steps further in, Evan and Pandora walking beside him. He sees Remus sitting nearby with a book in hand, watching the scene. Both James and Sirius have just tossed in their names together, and they grin as the room applauds for them. Barty watches Sirius as he finds Remus in the crowd and winks at him, who smiles and beacons him over. But on their way back to Remus, Mary and Lily go up to them and they pause for a moment to chat.
Not surprisingly, Pandora has also noticed the group, and tugs at Barty’s sleeve.
“I’m going to congratulate James and Sirius. Be right back.” She says, then skips off.
“Yeah, right.” Barty laughs, turning to his other side to see if Evan also clocked Pandora’s excuse to see Lily again. But he’s not there, Barty is standing alone in the crowded room.
His eyebrows furrow as he scans the room and his heart drops to the ground as he sees who has just stepped inside the flaming circle. Evan already has his parchment ready, he must have written his name before coming here tonight. He’s about to let go of the slip of parchment and let it fall into the cup, adding his name to the lottery.
Barty doesn't remember running across the room, but suddenly he’s standing in the ring too, catching Evan’s closed hand above the goblet. He fleetingly hopes his hands aren't sweaty, but the thought is drowned out by more important matters.
Their bracelets clink together as Evan looks at Barty in confusion. “Barty?”
Barty looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks desperately. He’s not sure why he has such a bad feeling about this, but his stomach is twisting into knots.
Evan looks away but his eyes are firm. “Yes.”
“Okay, then.” He doesn't know what to say. Doesn't have anything left to say. It’s Evan’s choice.
He lets go and Evan opens his fist. Barty watches as the paper comes into contact with the flame and disappears.
Some people in the room clap at Evan’s entry and he turns to leave the ring of fire. He hears Pandora whistle. Barty feels nauseous and helpless and like he has to do something. The room distorts and goes quiet.
His hand shakes a little as he reaches into his pocket for some parchment and quill. Evan is out of the circle, not realizing Barty isn't following him until then. He turns back right in time to watch as Barty puts his name in the goblet, flames rising high to meet the parchment. His hand is hot from the proximity of the flames. He leaves it hanging there for a moment before dropping it back to his side.
Barty stares, not believing what he’s just done, as the room comes back into focus, cheering growing louder and louder in his ears, ringing a bit.
Somehow he’s walked out of the vicinity of the goblet and other students brush past him to enter their names. He thinks Regulus is one of them, but can’t be sure. It feels like his head is full of cotton. He can’t think.
Evan puts a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Why’d you do that?”
Barty blinks. “I don't know.” He answers honestly. It just felt like he had to. He shakes his head a bit, trying to eliminate the weird, lagging feeling he’s experiencing.
“Let’s head over to the group,” Evan says, nodding in the direction of the students huddled around Remus. They join the gathering at the same time as Regulus, who is also coming back from entering his name. He stands by Sirius and allows him to pat his back and smiles proudly at him.
Barty watches the group, the worrying feeling twisting in his gut. He plays with the bracelet on his wrist and steals a look at Evan, hoping and praying to anything that might be listening that none of their names will be chosen on Halloween night.
Of course, like how so many things turn out in his life, he does not have much luck.
_
Unfortunately, Halloween this year had fallen on a weekday, which meant a full day of classes came before the festivities. Barty had anxiously gone through his subjects, not speaking much and staying glued to Evan’s side. He even skipped Herbology to join Evan in his free period, spending it in the library fooling around and being shushed by Madame Pince too many times to count. It had been fun, the only time of the day Barty hadn’t been stuck in his head as much worrying.
The hours had passed eventually, and now all the students were enjoying the Halloween feast in the Great Hall. Pumpkins, bats, and orange streamers decorated the huge room, and cups overflowing with sweets were placed on every table. The entertainment act had just ended, which had consisted of all the Hogwarts ghosts popping out of the walls and doing a formation gliding routine. Even Moaning Myrtle, who had died 30 years ago, had joined in for the fun.
The feast is coming to an end and Barty is still staring glumly at his full plate. He had hardly eaten, his appetite lost because of his nerves. It seemed as though no one around him had noticed his off mood, which made him a little annoyed, considering students were allowed to sit anywhere for the holiday and he was surrounded by his new friends.
Evan, sitting beside him, nudges his side.
“You know, I never realized Remus and Regulus were so similar.” He says, looking at the pair across from them, who are talking about who knows what and smiling wide.
He follows his gaze. “Oh. Yeah, I suppose.” He rests his head on a propped-up arm.
Evan frowns. “Barty. Don’t worry, It’ll be okay.”
Barty turns towards him. “You don’t know that.”
“Even if one of us is picked, it’ll be fine. We have extra help this year, and, because you have somehow forgotten, let me remind you we are both excellent wizards, some of the best in our classes.” He says fiercely, poking his shoulder.
Barty hums noncommittally. “That is true.”
“Yup,” Evan says, nodding. “But, by the way, my money is on James for Hogwarts and Dorcas for Beauxbatons. No offense to us, but the goblet chooses the most capable, right? They're both at the very top of their classes, good with magic, smart, strong, and popular.” He shrugs.
Barty nods, agreeing that James or Dorcas would both be more suitable options for the goblet to pick. It seems laughable that he was worried one of them would be chosen over one of those two. “You're right. Thanks.”
Evan smiles and pushes Barty’s plate towards him. “Yep. Eat before the food disappears.”
He nods and manages to eat most of his serving of shepherd’s pie before the food is magically gone and once again the headmaster steps up to speak.
The Triwizard Cup appears again, glowing glass blue, and the room is quiet. All eyes are on the goblet as Dumbledore announces it is time for the champions to be chosen.
The goblet of fire flickers red before spitting a half-charred piece of parchment that drifts right into Dumbledore’s hand. Lily and James, who have been sitting together the whole meal, share an excited grin as Dumbledore unfolds the note.
“The champion for Durmstrang… Lily Evans!”
Their whole table seems to look at Lily in shock as she stands up proudly and makes her way to Dumbledore. Barty is amazed, he only knows two of the Durmstrang students visiting, and one of them was picked? He cheers loudly, but not as loudly as Remus or Pandora, who practically scream with excitement.
After Lily shakes the headmaster’s hand, she goes to stand behind the cup near the teachers, smiling at her headmistress.
Another parchment piece shoots out of the goblet. Barty feels nauseous again. “Representing Hogwarts…” Dumbledore reads it and smiles. “Remus Lupin!” The Hogwarts students go crazy, banging tables with fists and cheering wildly.
Barty turns to look at Remus, who seems to be frozen. Beside him, Regulus shoves his shoulder and he seems to snap out of it, dazedly standing up. Barty watches Evan’s eyes follow Remus the entire time as he makes his way to Dumbledore and the cup. Professor McGonagall stands by Remus and rubs his back reassuringly. He shares a glance with Lily standing next to him. The room quiets again, anticipation for the last champion building.
“And lastly, the champion for Beauxbatons is,” Dumbledore starts, catching the last parchment in his hand, “Evan Rosier.”
Evan turns towards Barty with a dumbstruck expression, his green eyes wide. Their friends around them congratulate Evan and the room applauds, but it’s like Barty is hearing it all from far away, from underwater. His ears are clogged. He can’t breathe, he's sinking further and further down.
“I-” Evan starts to say, but someone, maybe Pandora, takes his arm and hauls him up. It’s a blur as Barty digs his fingers into the wooden bench from under him and tries to take a breath in. His heart rate is picking up, reality sinking in. He looks down at his feet and clutches his shirt in a fist, pulling at the material. It’s so hot in the room and he can’t seem to get a proper breath in.
This can’t be happening. It should have been Dorcas. It should have been anyone else. These trials are dangerous. What if it turns out like the last tournament? What if Evan gets hurt? Barty’s hands are shaking. What if Evan dies? His eyes burn at the thought and he tries to suck in another breath. Fuck. He can’t breathe. Evan could die. Fuck. Fuck.
“Barty!”
He looks up with a gasp at Regulus Black, of all people, suddenly in Evan’s seat next to him, looking at him with concern, a hand over his hand. For some reason the hall is quiet and everyone is looking at him. His face burns with embarrassment and tries to focus on Regulus’ face. His comforting grip on his hand. Fuck, this is humiliating. Why is everyone still looking at him? His eyebrows furrow in confusion. He didn’t say anything out loud, did he?
Regulus lets go of his hand and says slowly, “It picked your name.”
“What?” Barty can’t make sense of the words he’s hearing. “It?”
Regulus clears his throat softly, his quiet voice the only sound in the hall. “The goblet.”
Barty looks up again, eyes meeting Evans, who mirrors the shock in his own, much like the rest of the room. He’s standing by Dumbledore, apparently only having made it halfway to his place next to Remus and Lily when Barty was chosen. “Mr. Crouch,” Dumbledore calls. “Come here.”
Barty looks in horror and realizes that Dumbledore does in fact have another piece of parchment in his hand, different from Evan’s blue-colored one.
What the fuck? Is all Barty can think as he walks to Dumbledore, trying to keep his head held high. He and Evan share a meaningful look as the Hogwarts headmaster addresses the schools.
“The Goblet of Fire has chosen a fourth competitor this year, and as such, we will adhere to its wishes. All four students will compete.”
Barty catches many shocked faces in the crowd as neighbors exclaim to neighbors. He feels like throwing up. So many eyes are on him. What will his father say?
“Let’s give a round of applause for the Triwizard Tournament’s first-ever fourth champion, Bartemius Crouch Jr, representing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
As students applaud, Evan and Barty are motioned to stand next to Lily and Remus. A lightbulb flashes and a plume of smoke is released as someone takes a picture of the champions. Barty catches sight of the photographer and is surprised to see a familiar face, a prominent journalist for the Daily Prophet, next to him. He forgets her name but he’s definitely seen her before. She’s pretty, with short curled blonde hair and sharp glasses, maybe in her mid to late twenties?
He catches his look on him and sends him a little wave. Even from across the room, he sees her sharp smile and calculating eyes. He knows this look all too well. She’s someone who will do anything to get what she wants. Better keep away from her as long as possible.
Fuck. This was going to be an interesting couple of months.
_
Barty is convinced he’s going to throw up. Once again he clutches the toilet seat, waiting, and stares up at the bathroom ceiling, listening to the steady drip of a leaky faucet. His eyes twist shut with annoyance.
He’s been in here for at least half an hour, crouched on the dirty floor, feeling nauseous. But in all this time, he hasn’t vomited. He wishes he would, it would feel better once it's over and out of him.
He sits back and sighs, the feeling fading away again. It’s been a constant eb, like a tide. The feeling washing over him then leaving just as quickly as it had arrived. Whenever he’s tried to leave the bathroom, it hits him hard and he rushes back inside to the toilet.
He feels stuck. Maybe he’ll be here all night. But also, he can admit he’s a little grateful for the excuse not to be attending the party in the Gryffindor common room right now, celebrating the chosen champions. He wouldn't have been able to handle the nagging questions and constant surveillance. He bets Lily and Evan are drinking away right now, excited about the trials to come. The thought of the stuffy room and alcohol makes the nausea rise again, and he groans.
Footsteps sound on the bathroom tile. His head shoots up.
“Barty? You in here?” A voice sounds, accompanied by an echoing knock. Remus.
“Here,” Barty says miserably, and Remus turns the corner near the stalls and joins him, Regulus trailing a step behind him.
They both offer him sympathetic looks when they see the state he’s in, hunched over the toilet, looking green in the gills.
Remus sits down by Barty on the floor. Regulus grimaces at the sticky tile and ops to stay standing.
“What's up with you?” Remus says.
“Can’t vomit,” Barty replies.
“Do you think it’s from some bad food? Or nerves from earlier tonight, at the feast?”
All three boys know that the house elves would never serve anything unsafe to eat, plus, magic ensures no spoiled food is brought into the kitchens.
Barty doesn't respond. Drip, drip, drip. “I didn't know you entered your name, Remus.” He says, changing the subject. Remus lets him.
Remus smiles. “I didn't think I was going to. I just knew that I wanted to lower Sirius’ chances of being picked. ‘What’s one more Hogwarts student competing?’ I thought.”
Barty nods. It made sense.
“Hey, look, I’ll run down to Madame Pomfrey’s and get you a potion to help with the sickness. Be back in a flash.” He says, standing up.
Barty looks at him confusedly. “Remus. It’s the middle of the night. Won’t Pomfrey bite your head off for being up past curfew?”
This causes Remus to laugh, and he shoots an amused grin at Regulus, who chuckles. “Nah, she’s used to my…misadventures.” He replies with a wink.
Barty is confused but shrugs and says a quick thanks to Remus as he walks out the door. It’s just him and Regulus now.
“Remus didn’t ask the question I'm curious about,” Regulus says, accepting his fate and tentatively sitting on the floor near Barty.
“Oh yeah?” He responds, leaning back against the wall. “What is it?”
“Why did you put your name in?”
Barty’s had some time to think about this question, actually, while sitting on the floor of the bathroom for the past eon.
He hums thoughtfully. “There's more than one reason. I wanted to protect Evan, in some way. I saw my friends doing it, I felt like I would be a wuss if I didn't. I wanted to prove my father wrong. Or maybe just make him see I'm not the tosser he thinks I am. Maybe make him proud?”
He laughs sarcastically, running a hand in his hair and then pulling his knees to his chest. “Not like I would ever be able to do that. I could become the bloody Minister of Magic and he wouldn't bat an eye.” He huffs.
Fuck, Regulus definitely thinks he’s a fucking loser now. Why did he just tell him all that shit?
But, surprisingly Regulus doesn't shy away from the topic. “I know exactly what you mean. I hate my father, but I pretend like I don't,” Barty looks up at him with surprise as he continues “I can’t help but try to be the perfect son, getting good grades, keeping the family standards alive… hiding any unnatural feelings.” He rolls his eyes at the last bit of his sentence and looks pointedly at Barty.
“Wait, Black,” Barty says with a cheeky grin. “Are you saying- Well, uh- I didn’t know you fancied blokes.” He finally settles on the phrase, and Regulus actually laughs. Like, all his teeth showing, shaking shoulders type of laugh.
“Take one fucking look at me,” He gestures to himself.
Barty laughs too, the uncomfortable feeling in his gut easing a little. “Oh...Me too, by the way.”
Regulus shoves Barty’s shoulder playfully, “Fucking obviously.” He rolls his eyes but is still smiling.
A thought hits him and he blurts it out. “Hey, this is random, but would you consider being my partner? Like, for the trials, I mean. Dumbledore said we can call on one person for help.”
Regulus purses his lips thoughtfully. “Hmm. I’ll have to think about it.”
Barty nods, at least Reg didn't flat-out refuse him. He should try to ask someone else tonight, maybe Dorcas? They haven't talked much, but she seems capable and friendly.
Remus returns to the bathroom, potion in hand, and Barty drinks it, grimacing at the texture. Immediately, he feels better and goes over to the washroom sink to wash his hands and freshen up. He looks at Remus and Regulus’ reflections in the mirror and smiles at them, grateful they were here to help.
They leave and make it to the Gryffindor common room quickly, the Fat Lady’s portrait luckily very close to the bathrooms. Remus whispers the password, actually making Regulus and Barty cover their ears, the git, and the door swings open, welcoming the trio into the party that is in full swing.