Nightmare
1st of August, 2012
(Two years prior)
Barty didn’t feel real. He felt distant, he felt high of nothing, and he felt like he was capable of anything. He
It was late and Barty was idly swinging on a swing set in a deserted playground beside his best friends Casey and Will.
The two boys were fucking around and chatting about shit, but Barty could’t tell what they were saying, he was too far gone. Somebody’s fresh blood stained Barty’s t-shirt but Casey and Will didn’t seem to acknowledge it anymore, after all, it wasn’t unusual to them anymore, along with the fact Barty was inspecting his own pistol in his hand.
As if he snapped out of his trance, he could hear what the boys were talking about now.
‘She started crying and shit,’ a small chuckle left Casey's mouth, ‘I wish you could’ve seen her face.. Fuck man. Like, She just stood there expecting me to do something and I was like, ‘The fuck you want me to do, kill him?’. Shit was cra-zy’’
‘Nahh’ Will chuckled.
And this is where the voice in his head interrupted all thoughts.
Fuck this.
And it was like something possessed Barty in that moment. He stood up slowly from the swing and stood to face the other boys, gun held by his side. A voice was in his head urging him to go through with it.
Casey and Will's conversation quickly came to an end as they both looked up at their friend.
‘We going somewhere?’ Will asked.
Barty was going somewhere.
He didn’t respond. He only stood still infront of his childhood friends.He didn’t show any sign of emotion as he spoke the next words. It's not like he felt any emotion anyway.
‘Hey, Will, Casey. You guys are my best friends… I love you guys.’
He raised the pistol without a second thought.
A loud bang rang as he shot Will, not giving him any chance to say anything. Will’s body went limp and fell to the ground with a thump.
Casey’s face was in shock. He stared down at his dead friend's body on the ground.
‘What the fu-?!’
Another gunshot.They were both dead.
He stayed still for a moment before turning to the exit of the playground heading towards his own bike, Slater, before shoving the gun into his bag and cycling his way to Johnny’s apartment.
— — —
About fifteen minutes later he reached the almost destroyed apartment building covered in graffiti, the paint peeling off bit by bit. It was located in a shitty area, the only good thing about it was the pub a couple doors down, the bartenders would sell to any paying customer. Barty and his friends would go there a lot. So much so the pub put up a sign that said ‘Dedicated to our own Loiter Squad’ over a booth in the dark corner of the pub where they would exclusively sit. That’s how they got their group name.
Getting into the apartment was easy. Casey, Will and Johnny all lived together so naturally Barty would have his own key. If ever his Dad was giving him shit Barty would simply come over and stay there for a couple days waiting for his Dad to calm down. He never really did.
The boys didn’t live there legally but no-one had stepped into that apartment for years so they just decided to move in.
He left Slater and his bag outside, bringing only the key and his pistol. Nobody actually lived in the building, apart from his friends and the old lady on the first floor. It was the perfect go to place for drug dealers. He casually walked up the stairs, each step creaking under his foot. It was too late at night for anyone to be awake. Except for Johnny of course.
He reached the apartment on the fifth floor and Barty could hear the sound of the television from inside. He turned the key and opened the creaky door before silently stepping in. He slowly walked toward the living room, seeing the light projected from the box TV and Johnny’s legs relaxing on the broken coffee table.
He stepped into the room, gun raised, causing Johnny to jump back slightly. He immediately went into a state of panic at the sight of the pistol aimed at him.
‘Barty, why are you here with a fucking gun?! Where’s Casey and Will weren’t they with you? The fuck are you doing?!’ He stood up, pacing the room too quickly for Barty.
‘Johnny..’ He spoke, his voice icy.
‘What the fuck are you doing?! You just gon’-’ He cut himself off.
Johnny was frantically trying to get an explanation from Barty, but all Barty could do was repeat the same words..
‘I’m sorry.’ Barty only watched Johnny.
‘Hold on, hold on- What the fuck are you doing-?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘After all we’ve been through- You just gon’ shoot me in my mo-’
Bang.
The Tv was blaring some kind of game show and then, finally, everything dawned on Barty And he broke down, dropping to his knees in front of Johnny’s lifeless body.
‘I'm sorry, fuck... The fuck did I just do? Fuck! Ah shit!’ He dropped his gun.
— — —
18th of July, 2013
(Present Day)
Barty woke up to Dumbledore looking at him. Shit, he was back in this fucking office.
Behind Dumbledore a mirror hung on the way and when Barty looked at himself, his face was blurry but he could see a coat of red covering his face and neck. He was confused for a moment before he remembered the fight at the music hall.
Fucking Snape, go back to fucking MySpace.
Dumbledore was looking not at Barty but at his hands resting on his lap.
What?
With a confused face, Barty looked to where Dumbledore was, and to his horror his hands were bloody, and he was holding a gun.
His gun.
And all the memories came back in one massive wave. It was like a tsunami.
He couldn't breathe. His whole body was starting to shake. He was panicking. He couldn’t breathe.
He held his gun tight in his trembling hand, tears threatening to show. His breathing became heavy and he frantically tried to get the gun out of his grasp, but he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t stand up. Maybe he could, maybe he just didn’t want to..
He was struggling to try to get up. He just killed his friends, he killed that girl and he was going to kill everyone. He was going insane again. He wanted to scream but he didn’t have a voice.
‘Barty..’ Dumbledore spoke with a stern tone.
Barty started muttering incoherently to himself. His pupils red, his hair a mess, his hands soaked in blood.
‘Fuck man’ he mumbled.
‘Barty give me the gun.’
‘Ah fuck’ he sobbed, curled into himself, giving up on trying to get up.
‘Give me the gun.’ And just like that, the gun was gone. That didn’t calm him down anymore though . In fact it made him feel defenceless.
His hands reached his neck, he couldn’t look back up at Dumbledore. He was scared.
‘The fuck, man. The fuck?’ his words slurred as blood started spilling from his mouth getting on his trousers.
‘It's going to be okay’ Dumbledore spoke.
‘Ah fuck man’ he was in so much pain, but that wasn’t the reason for his curses. It was the panic and guilt. ‘I’m fucked, I’m so fucked. Ah shit!’ He exclaimed, his hands pulling at his hair. His voice overcome by sobs.
‘It’s fine, Barty, believe me.’ Dumbledore's calm and collected voice spoke louder over the blaring voices in his head. He looked up at Dumbledore.
His words tumbled out of his mouth. ‘I don't know why the f— I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, man, I don't f—’ His voice was breaking.
‘It’s going to be okay’ he repeated.
‘Oh fuck dude. M- ‘ he screamed out in frustration. ‘I gotta hide the fuckin— I can't hide the fuckin' bodies’ He was crying, his voice and body wouldn’t stop shaking. Blood now spilt on the carpet beneath him.
‘I’m here to help. I am your friend. Now w-’
‘You were supposed to fuckin' help me!’ he screamed out.
‘I am here to help you, Barty.’
‘Agh! fuck!’ He started talking to himself again. He couldn’t hear Dumbledore’s voice anymore. Pulling the hardest he could at his hair he was rocking back and forth.
‘You're in a good space with me. We'll figure all of this out. You don't have to worry about a thing…’ He sighed ‘Now, I think while we’re here, we might as well start our next session.’ he paused for a moment.
‘Barty, we, ah, I know it's short notice but I brought all your friends here’ Barty’s head shot up. His face red and puffy from the tears.
His friends? Here? How did they know? His mother acted if it was a top secret mission transferring Barty to Camp Hogwarts. His friends would presume he was dead. But for some reason they were here?...This is his chance. He could explain everything to them. The missing case of Casey, Will and Johnny was dropped early last year as being ruled as unsolvable. He hadn’t told anyone, anything.
Dumbledore continued, ‘For some reason I couldn't get a hold of Will, Johnny and Casey but I just brought the rest of your friends here to talk to you because,, they're really worried about you. I thought it would be better if you could tell them exactly what you did.
Suddenly the door opened. Barty expected his friends from back home but it wasn’t.
It was Evan, Pandora, Regulus and Dorcas.
They stepped in one by one and Dumbledore greeted them each. Not one bit of emotion crossed their faces. They were blank pages.
Barty's head was too full of thoughts to even comprehend what was happening. He tried to get up again, to shove them all out of the room, but, just as all the other attempts he failed.
‘Say something.’ Dumbledore gestured with a smile to the group looming over Barty.
So Barty didn’t hesitate, he told them everything.
Aside from the truth.
‘I didn't kill them, I swear!’ He was losing sanity by the second. ‘It wasn’t me it- it- it was someone else. I wasn’t there, I promise.’ Tears welled in his eyes again. ‘Someone told me-..’
His rant was quickly cut off by another knock at the door.
‘Ah!’ Dumbledore said, too cheery for the situation. ‘The rest.’ He stood up again to open the door.
Barty’s legs shook with rapid force. Blood dripped from his forehead into his eyes but that didn’t stop him from seeing who was at the door.
Casey, Will and Johnny.
They were wearing the same clothes as they were that day. And they don’t look a day over fifteen. Their hair was still the same and a single bullet wound was left in each one of their heads.
‘You’re pathetic’ Casey said. But it wasn’t Casey's’ voice.
It was Evan’s.
Then it was Will’s mouth who opened, still, Evan’s voice. ‘Looks like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed!’ Evan’s laughter rang out through the deathly quiet room. You could hear a pin drop.
Then Johnny turned to Will, his mouth moved, this time it was his fathers voice. ‘How can he wake up on the wrong side of the bed, when he doesn't even have one?’
Now everyone was laughing and Barty felt helpless. He couldn’t see anything now, the blood blinding him. All of a sudden, excruciating pain struck his head, then his torso and to his limbs. He was screaming so loud his voice was going horse. He fell out of his once prison-like chair and hit the floor with a loud thump.
Not even his cries could drown out the noise of everyone laughing. No one would help Barty. No one would save him. He was alone. And he deserved it.
Soon, the pain was too much, tears flooding down his cheeks, screams turned into sobs and once again, Barty Crouch Jr. passed out.