Perhaps, if Evan hadn’t been lost in his own thoughts, he would have heard the voices and found another way back to the Slytherin common room. Or perhaps, if he had simply asked Regulus to return the book back to the library tomorrow, along with the other books Regulus had borrowed, he could’ve avoided the trouble.
However, he hadn’t considered those options, and now that he was thinking about it, it was too late to do anything about it.
“Look who it is,” a voice grinned. “The freak’s brother.”
Evan froze, his gaze flying up instantly. He couldn’t see Mulciber, but he knew the boy’s voice by heart after being bullied for standing up for his sister.
Pandora wasn’t weird; she was unique. She wasn’t like any other girl Evan had ever met, and he loved her with his whole heart. So, while taking hits and mean words for her could mean getting in a lot of trouble, Evan never regretted it.
Though it was late evening, the library was still lit up for readers who liked to linger after dinner, but that didn’t necessarily mean the corridors around the library were illuminated. Usually, they would just fall into darkness, which could be a bit of a problem when you came from the library and your eyes were accustomed to the light. So, while the older Slytherin guys most likely had a perfect view of both Evan and the corridor, with eyes accustomed to the dark, Evan was practically blind.
Evan took a wobbly step backwards, feeling his throat dry out. While he was used to being bullied, it didn’t make it pleasurable. Not to mention that Mulciber and his little squat weren’t known for being nice or showing mercy. If they wanted to leave Evan beaten up on the ground, they would do it.
Evan gulped.
“If she was my sister, I would tell her to leave me alone and never speak to me again,” A different voice said.
Wilkes.
A third voice laughed.
At least three of them then, Evan noted, looking straight ahead.
He needed to be smart if he wanted to avoid getting into serious problems. Three boys, including Mulciber, were blocking the direct way to the Slytherin tower and if Evan was right, they were most likely more.
If he was quick, he could perhaps turn around and run away to find another way back. But, on the other hand, they could also cut him off if they were fast, so it was a bit too risky for Evan’s liking.
Before he could react, someone moved to his left, and Evan instantly jumped to the right, backing up against the wall. The silhouette ran past him, and it took Evan longer than it should have to realise his only way away was now blocked too.
Three weeks ago, Regulus had hexed Mulciber when they had been trapped in a situation much like this, creating an escape route. Evan now found that he deeply wished he had indeed asked Regulus to teach it to him.
“Oh, Evan,” Mulciber purred. “Going somewhere?”
Evan turned his head to the right, relieved to see that his sight was slowly returning. However, what he wasn’t happy to see was Mulciber strolling towards him.
“Find someone else to bother,” Evan gritted out. “I have better things to do.”
Mulciber had never been small, and being a year older than Evan, he forced Evan to look up as he cornered him, with the other boys joining him.
“Scared?”
Up this close, Evan could feel the heat radiating from Mulciber's body and, in Evan’s opinion, a way too satisfied smirk adorned his ugly face. Evan wanted to punch him. He wanted to run away. He wanted to cry.
“No,” Evan stated as coldly as he could. His voice was trembling slightly; he knew it, but he hoped that Mulciber didn’t catch on to it. Whether he heard it or not didn’t matter because he definitely didn’t believe Evan, a low, mean laugh falling from Mulciber’s lips. The other boys quickly joined in, cackling along.
Before Evan had the chance to react, a hand grabbed him, and he was instantly pulled away from the wall, his safety, and into the dark corridor. Yelping at the sudden movement, Evan lunged for the arm, only to be pushed backward, stumbling to regain balance before they attacked again. The low snickers around him were mean, and Evan knew the older Slytherin boys enjoyed seeing him scared and pushed to his limits. Turning around quickly, Evan raised his wand, aiming it blindly at the darkness in front of him, fumbling for a wall behind him with his other hand.
The words were already on the tip of his tongue, but before he could cast the spell, his wand was snatched from his hand, and he stumbled forward, trying to catch the thief before he got away. He didn’t get far before a hard shove in the chest had him falling backward into someone behind him.
He was nothing but a toy, just a fun little thing to push around when Mulciber and his dickhead friends had nothing better to do, and Evan felt like a lamb surrounded by a pack of wolves. Every little shove was a push from a clawed hand, and every little laugh was a flash of long teeth, capable of ending him in a matter of seconds.
He couldn’t even protect himself because they had taken his only defence, his wand.
Oh, Evan was fucked.
“Give it back!” Evan yelled. He regained balance, not even caring about the boy he had tumbled into, as his wand was thrown over his head to another boy.
“Oh, poor Evan,” someone laughed with a false sense of pity. Evan’s heart was beating fast in his chest, high on the adrenaline rush. He leapt forward, practically falling over his own legs, but Snape was faster, and his wand was thrown before Evan could reach it.
He knew it was a game and that he was playing perfectly into it, but he didn’t know what else there was to do. He was outnumbered, defenceless and tired.
Evan managed to push Snape in the chest before turning around and setting off after his wand once more.
This time, it was Avery who attacked him, colliding with Evan’s hip. The other boy wasn’t much bigger than Evan himself, but pain shot through Evan’s leg like lightning, making him wince.
Then, suddenly, everything went very fast. At some point, a foot had sneaked around his ankle, and Evan desperately tried to pull his foot free as he felt himself losing balance, hands desperately reaching out for anything to hold onto – wall or Avery’s shoulder.
In the end, it didn’t matter because there was absolutely nothing to hold onto and stop him from falling.
Without warning, an invisible force grabbed his hip, forcing him to stop his fall halfway through. Evan shrieked, his hands automatically reaching out to grab whatever was holding him up.
There was nothing.
A spell.
A disgusting snicker reached Evan’s ears, and he looked up in time to see Wilkes disappearing into the shadows, a mean glint in his blue eyes trained on Evan’s hunched-over position Evan’s legs were trapped by the spell, stuck to the ground at a tilted angle, making his torso curl forward against his will. He physically couldn’t stand up straight if he wanted to.
More laughs emanated from the older boys, and Evan felt the heat rise to his cheeks.
He was paralyzed from the waist down, and if he didn’t find a way away, he’d most likely discover that being paralyzed wasn’t the most horrible thing that could happen to him tonight.
With a hand on each leg, Evan pushed his upper body up as straight as he could, trying to maintain a stoic facade as he glanced into the darkness in front of him.
All of them had pulled back, and Evan knew he was being watched like prey being observed by its predator.
At least there’s only four, his brain whispered.
Yeah, he responded dryly. Four at-least-a-year-older boys, all with a wand, while I am stuck without a wand, and no one knows where I am, except for Regulus, and he won’t come looking for me for the many next hours to come.
His brain didn’t have an answer to that.
“Oh, Evan,” Mulciber purred once more, bringing Evan back to the present. “Scared now?”
He stepped closer, the typical smirk on his lips. His walk was slow and steady, showing Evan just how much power he had in the moment. Evan’s wand dangled from Mulciber’s hand, and Evan made the mistake of reaching for it as soon as Mulciber was close enough.
More laughs echoed.
Evan regained his balance and lifted his gaze. He hoped he looked firm and cold but knew it wasn’t very likely.
“Fine,” Evan snarled. “I’ve learned my lesson. I don’t stand a chance against you because you’re older and bigger. That was my mistake, and if you let me go now, I’ll go tell Regulus exactly what happened here and now, and that he should leave you alone too. Deal?”
It didn’t seem to satisfy Mulciber, and before Evan could do anything, he felt Mulciber’s wand pressed against his throat. Evan gulped.
How fast things could change.
“I actually don’t think you’ve learned anything,” Mulciber snarled back. “Oh, and don’t worry, we’ll find Regulus too.” An evil smirk. “But right now, this isn’t about him, is it?”
Evan didn’t answer, staring coldly right into Mulciber’s eyes as if it could save him. For a second, Evan thought Mulciber would hex him, but then someone got ahead of him.
The spell was cast before Mulciber seemed to realise what was happening, and Evan curled forward to prevent the spell from hitting him, only to discover that it wasn’t directed at him.
Mulciber’s wand flew above Evan’s head, and Evan watched the colour drain from Mulciber’s face as he saw the face of his attacker. Avery, behind Mulciber, had stopped laughing too and was now starring in the same direction as Mulciber. His acne-covered face was painted with disgust.
Evan twisted his upper body, but the position didn’t allow him to see the person fully, and he only caught glimpses of his possible saviour. The person was hidden in the darkness, but Evan thought it looked like a boy.
Slowly, he reached down towards the floor, still with Mulciber’s wand in his hand. No one said anything; all the older Slytherin boys simply watched as the boy rested the tip against the floor before lifting his heel just above the middle of the wand.
It was a threat.
If the boy stomped, Mulciber’s wand would break.
Mulciber sucked in a breath, and Evan couldn’t prevent the little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“What do you want, Crouch?” Mulciber asked, his voice losing its arrogance.
Evan’s smile stiffened at the name.
It wasn’t-
It just wasn’t.
Except-
Attacking Mulciber and his squat alone so late in the evening, well, it was typical Barty style.
Barty Crouch Jr. was a friend of Pandora, and though he was your typical popular jock, he also didn’t fit in among his fellow Ravenclaws. Therefore, he had taken to hanging out with Pandora, which was how Evan knew him.
For some weird unknown reason, Barty also thought he was Evan’s – and possibly Regulus’ – friend.
Evan truly couldn’t stand him. Barty was a selfish prick, perfect at everything, and way too arrogant about it. Other than that, he was also the son of the Minister of Magic.
“I think you know what I want,” came Barty’s voice, and Evan sighed to himself.
It wasn’t that Barty couldn’t help him – as much as Pandora had told him he was actually quite phenomenal when it came to spells – but Barty liked the attention, the chaos, and if Evan wasn’t wrong, Barty would only end up worsening his situation.
“Give me my wand,” Mulciber said when Barty didn’t continue. His voice trembled slightly, and he stepped forward towards Barty, his hand reached out for his wand.
Barty chuckled softly, and Evan considered if the boy had lost his mind.
“That’s not how this works,” Barty said simply, and a shiver ran down Evan’s spine at the tone.
Barty was usually the king of arrogance. He showed that in everything he did – the way he walked, dressed, acted, talked – but that specific arrogance was nowhere to be found.
“Your wand for Evan. That’s how it works.”
No one moved nor said anything. Barty continued.
“Give me Evan.”
Every syllable was pronounced clearly, and the sentence filled the whole corridor with tense air.
Someone else would’ve most likely phrased it “let Evan go” or something like that, but Barty was Barty. He wasn’t stupid, and if he had the chance to make anything unnecessarily dramatic, he would.
Evan felt the annoyance raise, and for a second, he contemplated telling Barty to just leave him alone. However, after a moment of weighing the pros and cons, Evan came to the conclusion that he needed the help more than he hated Barty.
He’d just have to yell at Barty later.
Mulciber wasn’t moving, his eyes locked on Barty as if he could make him back down and leave them alone if he stared long enough.
Suddenly a low crack sounded as Barty pressed down on Mulciber’s wand – not enough to break it, but as a warning.
He wasn’t joking.
Mulciber’s cold facade dropped for a second, and he reached out for the wand, only to quickly stop and pull back again. He wouldn’t even make it halfway through the corridor before one wand could be turned into two.
Mulciber didn’t move as he looked over at Wilkes, giving him a curt nod.
Evan instantly felt the spell lose its grip, and he stumbled a step before regaining full balance. Avery snickered, but aside from that, no one said anything.
The atmosphere was tense and thick, and Evan feared that every step and breath he took could be the last before hell broke loose.
Mulciber still didn’t look at Evan, and Barty hadn’t addressed him yet, making Evan feel like a pawn surrounded by kings and queens in a game of wizarding chess.
He didn’t like the feeling, needing to regain some of his pride. He knew Barty probably just wanted Evan to get away, but if Barty didn’t like it, he could go cry about it.
Mulciber didn’t break his eye contact with Barty as Evan approached, but Evan made sure to stare directly at him, stopping in front of him and holding out his hand.
“My wand,” he said sternly.
Mulciber didn’t react instantly, but Evan waited patiently, face a cold mask. Reluctantly, Mulciber turned his gaze towards Evan, giving him a disgusted glare. In the dark Mulciber’s eyes seemed almost black. He looked like a demon, ready to rip Evan’s throat out.
“Does he have to repeat himself?” Barty asked, the threat coating the question in poison. Mulciber didn’t answer.
Evan shivered.
Why did he have to act like that?
Shaking his head, Evan tried to remind himself that Barty wasn’t special. At all. He was an asshole whom Evan didn't like. And that wasn’t going to change just because he saved Evan from what most likely would’ve been a long and terrible night.
Hesitantly, Mulciber lifted his hand, still clutching Evan’s wand before handing it over. His dark gaze was fixed on Evan, and Evan could see the promise shining within them.
One day, Rosier, one day, I will find you, and I will beat you up, and then Crouch won’t be there to save your sorry arse.
Evan didn’t doubt him.
“Good boy,” Barty drawled sarcastically, and though it was Barty who had said it, the anger on Mulciber’s face was directed towards Evan. Something – something he should’ve most likely realised earlier – suddenly dawned on him.
He wasn’t about to be saved. No, Mulciber and his squat would find him another time when Barty wouldn’t be there to stop them. They’d come after him, and Evan wouldn’t be safe anywhere. This wasn’t a rescue, no, it was a postponement. And every little snarky comment from Barty wasn’t helping him at all. Actually, Barty was worsening the situation and Evan felt himself get mad over it.
Barty, Evan decided, didn’t get to come around and be Evan’s saviour just because he had nothing better to do. And Mulciber didn’t just get to push Evan around because he was older and had more friends. No, Evan was a Rosier. Wasn’t that what his father always said?
You’re a Rosier. Act like it.
He was a goddamn pure-blooded heir.
Before Mulciber could react, Evan punched him. Right in the nose. Evan could feel the crack under his fist, and though his hand was now hurting, the sight of Mulciber stumbling backwards with a hand covering his face was far too pleasing to make Evan regret it.
Snape was by Mulciber’s side in an instant, but Mulciber pushed him away before turning back to Evan, eyes glinting with that cold rage Evan had experienced way too many times. Some distant part of Evan’s mind informed him that he had fucked up and Evan sarcastically thanked it.
Mulciber attacked him rapidly, and though Evan tried to pull away, he wasn’t fast enough. Mulciber’s hand collided with Evan’s lip, the hit resonating through his head. For a second, Evan thought he was going to pass out – everything was spinning, and he could taste blood on his tongue. Someone yelled, and Evan fell to the floor with Mulciber on top of him, the other boy’s hand raised to hit again.
Suddenly Barty’s voice broke through the haze in Evan’s mind, and Evan instantly felt himself being dragged backward at an incredible pace, only stopping when his back hit something hard.
The sudden halt sent a jerk through his body, and Evan bit back a rant of curses, glaring at where Mulciber was still sitting on the floor, glaring back. Pain throbbed in his lower lip, but Evan ignored it.
In an instant, Snape, Avery and Wilkes were by Mulciber’s side, pulling him to his feet, but he didn’t pay them much mind, spitting in the direction of Evan.
Evan glared back coldly, trying to look as unfazed as possible, as if his heart wasn’t beating faster than the Snitch could fly.
A hand wrapped around Evan’s arm, and he realised it was a leg he was sitting up against just before he was pulled to his feet, as if he were nothing but a doll.
“Enough trouble for one night,” Barty said sternly.
It was an order.
Roughly, Evan pulled his arm out of Barty’s grasp, and Barty sighed, shaking his head as if Evan were a little kid who had gotten himself in trouble. Evan’s blood was boiling, and he opened his mouth to yell at Barty, to tell him that he hadn’t asked for his help and that if he didn’t want to be here, Evan wouldn’t stop him from leaving. Actually, he would gladly send Barty away and-
“Go get your wand,” Barty said dryly, and Evan’s flow of thoughts stopped abruptly. For a second, Barty just looked at him expectantly, his green gaze infinitely bored, and Evan had to refrain from punching Barty too. Taking a moment to regain composure and close his mouth, Evan turned around and walked back to Mulciber and the other Slytherins.
His wand lay on the ground in front of Mulciber, and the boy lazily kicked it towards Evan, his eyes not leaving Evan’s frame as he picked it up.
“Good,” Barty said. “Now come back.”
Once again, Evan had to stop himself from snapping at Barty.
Focusing on the ground, Evan turned around, and as he walked back to Barty, he felt just as trapped now as when he had been paralyzed earlier.
Enough trouble for one night, Barty was right about that, though.
“Your turn,” Mulciber said when Evan stopped next to Barty. Barty wasn’t standing on Mulciber’s wand anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t break it whenever he felt like it.
Barty lifted his hand, holding Mulciber’s wand, and as he started twirling it, Evan saw a bit of the usual sass return, the one he knew so well.
“What?” Barty asked innocently. He was talking to Mulciber, but his gaze flickered to Evan briefly.
It was barely anything and Evan almost didn’t notice. He almost didn’t see the look Barty sent him – the flicker of something a little more serious. The flicker of “I have a plan.”
Evan almost started smiling at that but refused when he realised it was still Barty.
“My wand.”
Mulciber sounded more annoyed now, and Evan desperately hoped that whatever plan Barty had in store was going to work.
“What about your wand?”
Barty turned his gaze to the wand in his hand and examined it, as if he didn’t know exactly what Mulciber wanted.
“Don’t play with me, Crouch,” Mulciber warned.
Barty looked back at Mulciber, a typical Barty smirk playing on his lips.
“I am not playing with you; I’m simply asking you a question, Bruce.”
The use of Mulciber’s first name didn’t seem to brighten the situation.
“Give. Me. My. Wand.” Mulciber’s demand was stern.
“Oh.” Barty even had the audacity to laugh. “You want it?” He raised the wand slightly, and Mulciber’s eyes fixed on it like a dog looking at a stick. Suddenly, it dawned on Evan exactly what Barty’s plan was. Evan’s smile dropped in an instant, but Barty continued before Evan could interrupt and prevent the upcoming disaster. “Better catch it then.”
Barty’s hand had barely thrown the wand before he grabbed Evan’s wrist, turned around and started running.
“Fetch,” he yelled.
Evan shrieked as Barty grabbed his wrist, pulling him along and away from the older Slytherin boys. He could hear Mulciber yelling behind them, most likely trying to catch his wand. Evan couldn’t see it, though, so he wasn’t entirely sure.
The first spell missed Evan’s head by an inch, and the second hit the floor right behind him. Evan ducked, but Barty kept pulling them forward. He managed to get them around a corner just in time to avoid the third spell that was fired after them.
Still running at full speed, Barty let go of Evan to throw a spell back at Mulciber and his squat. Evan sped up, running up in front of Barty. His legs were shaking underneath him, and his breathing was ragged from the fight. It was two against four. All four boys were older than both Evan and Barty, which meant that even with Barty’s good grades, they wouldn’t stand much of a chance in a fight. It wasn’t looking too good. They needed to get away.
Barty yelled a second spell, but Evan didn’t look back to check if it had hit anyone, preoccupied with watching where he put his feet in the dark. One could never know what was hiding in the shadows; they were living in a magic castle for Merlin's sake.
A spell flew over Evan’s head, and he knew that if Mulciber and the others had been thrown off by Barty’s surprise move, they weren’t anymore. They were back on track. The chase had officially begun. Before they could actually manage to hit Evan and Barty, Evan turned down a side passage, hoping to get Barty and himself out of the firing line. Barty followed, which was good for him, because Evan sure as hell wouldn’t have waited for him.
The side corridor wasn’t any lighter; if anything, it was just smaller, and Evan had to admit that he had no idea where they were. His heart was sitting in his throat, and though his body was full of adrenaline, he knew that neither of them would be able to run all the way back to their dorms without a break. Not to mention that they’d have to split up since Barty was a Ravenclaw.
Mulciber yelled a spell, and Evan’s heart skipped a beat as the light flew right past him, almost grazing his arm on the way. Barty responded by firing back, but he wasn’t even close to hitting.
Evan turned another corner, giving him and Barty a few seconds of peace before the firing would begin again. His wand was still in his hand, and without thinking it through, Evan sent a spell down yet another small corridor before running down another.
“What are you doing?” Barty yelled, clearly frustrated with him. “Hit them.”
Evan didn’t answer, grabbing Barty by the wrist, like Barty had done to him earlier, and ushering them towards the nearest door.
The spell he had fired wasn’t meant to attack anyone, but to confuse, to help him and Barty disappear. When the Slytherin boys would pass by, one or two of them would think they had gone that way, while the rest would argue against it. All the while, Evan and Barty would have time to flee.
Evan fired another spell down a third corridor, before murmuring a low “alohomora” and pushing his shoulder against the door. Evan cursed low as the door flew open, but Barty was ready, catching it before it could bang against the wall. He gave Evan a small push inside before locking the door securely behind them.
Evan’s breathing was ragged, and his heart was beating fast.
“That was your plan?” Evan snarled, stepping closer to Barty so he wouldn’t have to yell. “Run?”
Barty ignored him, giving the door a quick glance before he suddenly turned around, wrapped a hand around Evan’s middle, and dragged both of them backwards into whatever classroom they had most likely ended up in. Evan stumbled at the sudden pull, and if it hadn’t been for Barty’s chest against his back, he would’ve fallen.
“What are you- Let go!” Evan hissed, but his words were muted by a hand being flung over his mouth. Barty wasn’t slowing down, and Evan desperately tried to regain his footing. However, every time he managed to get on foot planted on the floor, Barty would pull him further back into the classroom, making him lose balance and fall backwards into Barty’s chest once more. Reaching for Barty’s hand around his waist, Evan tried to claw himself free, but the grip simply tightened, preventing Evan from going anywhere.
Muffled protests and the sounds of shoes hitting chairs and tables filled the classroom, and Evan knew they had to be quiet, but he couldn’t make himself stop his frantic fight for freedom. He wasn’t just Barty’s to push around as he pleased.
Suddenly Barty came to a halt, but Evan didn’t manage to regain balance before Barty sat down on the floor, still not letting go of Evan. He shuffled slightly backwards, and Evan’s foot hit a table as Barty pulled him in between his legs and up against Barty’s chest.
“I’m sorry if my plan wasn’t brilliant enough for you, Rosie, but it seemed like you needed some pretty urgent help,” Barty whispered in his ear. His voice was low and dangerous, the tone dripping with annoyance. “Now, shut up before they hear you.”
It didn’t take long before the sound of approaching steps could be heard, and Evan immediately tensed up. It was an automatic response by now. Whenever he heard or saw anything related to Mulciber, Evan would instantly keep an eye on him for safety.
“Breathe,” Barty’s voice came. It was softer now ,and Evan realised that he indeed had been holding his breath. He quickly released it.
“-Useless! Do you hear me?” It was Avery’s voice.
Someone stopped. Then the doorknob rattled as someone pulled on it from the other side.
Even Barty seemed to stop working for a second.
If they were found, if the door was opened, there would be nowhere to run.
“I said I’m sorry, okay?” Wilkes.
“But that isn’t going to change anything now, is it?” More steps.
“Shut up, both of you!”
For a second, everything was silent, and Evan contemplated whether he or Barty had accidentally left a trace of something outside the door, a sign that would give them away. His heart skipped a beat at the possibility.
Before, Barty had seemed to be somewhat calm, but now he was just as frozen in place as Evan, and Evan wasn’t even sure who he was trying to calm down as he lifted a hand to Barty’s and gave it a slight squeeze. Quickly, Barty let go of Evan’s waist, soundlessly turning his hand and grabbing Evan’s tightly in return.
Evan closed his eyes for a second, willing himself to calm down and breathe out slowly and carefully. They wouldn’t be found, he told himself, it just wasn’t possibly.
After a few more seconds, Mulciber spoke up.
“You go that way; we’ll go this way.”
More steps sounded, but this time they were fading, and Barty released a sigh when they were fully gone. Evan didn’t move, though. Barty didn’t either. His hand was still holding Evan’s tightly, and though Evan would probably never admit it to anyone, he felt quite safe in Barty’s embrace.
Evan wasn’t sure how long they waited, but it felt like a lot more than ten minutes, though it could also be because of the adrenaline still rushing through his body. However, Barty was the first to move, slowly backing away.
“Merlin Evan,” he whispered. “No need to drool on my hand like that.”
He let go of both Evan’s jaw and waist, and Evan was finally able to sit up straight again.
“I haven’t drooled on your hand,” Evan hissed back. He turned around, coming face to face with Barty, who was examining his hand. In the dim lighting, Evan couldn’t see Barty’s expression, but as Barty’s head suddenly snapped up, Evan felt his heart pick up its rapid speed once more.
Were Mulciber and his little squat returning?
When he was certain he couldn’t hear any footsteps approaching, Evan frowned at Barty, silently asking him what was wrong.
“Evan?” Barty asked worriedly, and Evan tensed at the tone. Why couldn’t he just say what was wrong like any other normal person?
Barty shuffled closer, and Evan didn’t pull away when their knees bumped together, taking a deep breath to calm himself.
“Lumos,” Barty murmured, and Evan instantly turned his head away from the bright light, closing his eyes. “Sorry,” Barty’s voice came again.
Barty quickly lowered his wand to the ground, covering it with a hand, and Evan carefully opened his eyes again, letting them get used to the light before daring to turn his head again. He had to blink several times, constantly squint and even rub his eyes a few times, but in the end, he was able to look at Barty without closing his eyes.
Dark hair was falling into his eyes, and his head was tilted away from his wand, as if he was scared it would explode if he didn’t watch out. His eyes were almost closed, but Evan realised he was looking at his hand that wasn’t holding the wand, as he turned it around, exposing the palm to the light.
It was covered in blood.
Barty quickly looked up, a frown on his face, and Evan met his stare willingly as the boy manoeuvred even closer.
“You’re bleeding,” Barty said softly, green eyes dropping to Evan’s lips. He placed his still alight wand on the floor, lifting his hand to Evan’s jaw, and Evan was suddenly aware of the throbbing in his lip. He didn’t recall Mulciber’s hit being that hard.
Barty’s finger grazed his cheek, wordlessly asking for permission to touch, and Evan was genuinely ashamed of the heat rising to his cheeks. Desperately trying to hide the fact that he was shaking, Evan lifted a hand to his lip, touching It carefully before pulling it away to examine it.
“Merlin’s tits,” he murmured, still ignoring Barty. The red colour was vibrant and shiny, and Evan kept his eyes locked on his hand as Barty grabbed a hold of his chin, giving it a firm tug to get a better view of the wound in the dim light.
“Shit, that must have hurt,” Barty mumbled worriedly, a distant look in his eyes. He moved slightly to the right, carefully pushing Evan’s head in the opposite direction and Evan clenched his hand, moving his gaze to the floor and swallowing around the lump in his throat.
He really needed to get a goddamn grip.
Barty let go of him, and Evan was finally able to breathe again, pulling back just a tad. Picking up his wand with one hand, Barty grabbed Evan’s wrist with the other, hauling both of them to their feet. His eyes were scanning the classroom and Evan frowned, looking between the darkness and Barty, trying to figure out what he was looking for.
Whether he found it or not, Evan wasn’t sure, but suddenly Barty turned to face him again, eye shining with something disturbing Evan couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Hold this.”
Without warning, Barty pressed his wand into Evan’s palm, not even waiting for him to take it before letting go. Evan squealed, only just catching the wand before it fell to the ground. Annoyed, Evan clenched his fist around it, about to yell at Barty when he suddenly stepped forward, forcing Evan to stumble backwards.
“Barty,” Evan hissed, hands frantically grabbing onto the collar of Barty’s shirt, trying to steady himself, and for a second, he almost dropped the wand. Barty didn’t react, eyes locked on something behind Evan as he kept on walking while pushing Evan backwards. Evan cursed internally.
“Table,” Barty said nonchalantly, and though Evan had been warned he wasn’t fast enough.
The table scraped loudly against the floor as Evan collided with it, thigh first.
“Ouch! You absolute di-”
“Language.”
Evan sent Barty the darkest glare he could muster, hand coming to soothe his thigh. Barty ignored it, giving Evan a few seconds to recover, before he continued.
“Up,” he said, voice completely neutral.
“What?” Evan asked. He could feel his anger rising, and Barty’s bored demeanour wasn’t helping at all.
“The table,” Barty explained. “Sit down.”
Evan rolled his eyes and huffed, making a show out of complaining before doing as he was told, pushing up on the table with his legs hanging over the edge. It only made him more annoyed when Barty didn’t react, keeping a straight face as he closed in on Evan, settling in between his knees.
It suddenly dawned on Evan how silent it was, how it was just the two of them alone in an abandoned classroom. Evan could feel the heat from Barty’s presence, sensing Barty’s hips brushing up against his inner thighs. Incredibly slowly, Evan leaned back on his hands, looking away and trying to hide the warmth that was returning to his cheeks. Evan groaned internally, pressing his lips tightly together and sighing to himself.
Barty, though, was still completely unreadable and unaffected by the whole situation, and Evan couldn’t help but wonder if he had done something like this before.
Knowing Barty, it was very possible.
Carefully Barty grabbed Evan’s wrist and lifted the hand that was still clenched around Barty’s wand to illuminate the wound on Evan’s lip. His other hand once again grabbed hold of Evan’s jaw, though his grip was way more careful this time, way more considerate. Heart speeding impossibly up, Evan desperately tried to keep his gaze on the floor as Barty’s soft hand slowly turned his head toward the light. Helplessly, his eyes flew to Barty’s, settling on his concentrated expression for a few seconds before realising that he was indeed staring and quickly looking away again.
Fortunately, Barty didn’t seem to notice. His hand that had been guiding Evan’s hand with the wand quickly let go again, grabbing the end of Barty’s shirt and lifting it, not only exposing his lower abdomen but also stepping closer.
“Barty, what in Merlin's name are you doing?” Evan exclaimed, leaning away from Barty’s towering figure.
Barty frowned at him, finally making eye contact.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Barty shrugged.
Evan really wanted to say “stripping,” but he was mature enough not to.
“How in Merlin’s name am I supposed to know? You know, you’re not really giving me anything to work with.” Evan made a grimace, trying to imitate Barty’s voice as he continued, “Get up on the table. Hold this. Like come on, I’m not a fucking doll or something. Show some damn respect, Crouch.”
Barty didn’t even blink.“You finished yet?”
“See?” Evan shrugged. “That’s what I mean.”
“Merlin, Rosie,” Barty sighed, clearly about to say something more, but Evan interrupted.
“My name is Evan. Evan Rosier.”
He still remembered the first potions class where Slughorn had accidentally read his last name wrong. Mister Rosie. Oh, sorry, Rosier.
He still remembered Barty’s barking laughter, repeating Rosie before dissolving into laughter once again.
He still remembered having to hear it weeks afterwards. Bary had never stopped, though.
“Whatever, Rosie,” Barty said, rolling his eyes.
Evan snorted, shaking his head before trying to push off the table, only to be stopped by Barty’s hand on his shoulder.
“Sit still,” Barty said, not even caring to sound less disrespectful. Evan huffed out a sarcastic grin.
“You’re doi-”
“I said sit still, Rosie.” Quickly Barty leaned down, the bored expression long gone, replaced by a determined and ice-cold facade. Evan didn't doubt he had inherited it from his father. Slowly, Barty lifted a brow at Evan, daring him to say something. Evan only scowled. “And to answer your question, I’m cleaning your wound.”
Barty’s gaze flickered to Evan’s lip again, and another flash of worry flew across his face.
“I might have to use magic on it, though,” he said, hand grabbing Evan’s jaw and tilting it for what must have been the hundredth time that night.
A few seconds passed in silence, and Evan couldn’t help but rethink all the choices he had made to end up in an empty classroom with - out of all people - Barty Crouch Jr. on a Wednesday evening, not to mention his bleeding lip.
Barty sighed to himself, pulling Evan back to the present, just in time to see him lift the shirt end to Evan’s lip. Evan suddenly realised he was holding his breath. Closing his eyes and breathing out through his nostrils, Evan willed his heart to stop trying to hammer through his chest.
“Ev?”
Evan opened his eyes, finding green ones looking at him.
“May I?” Barty asked softly, nodding towards his hand with the shirt and Evan had to stop himself from laughing.
Now he wanted to ask Evan for permission. After a whole evening of Barty bossing him around as he pleased, he wanted to ask for permission now.
Evan suppressed a snarky reply, nodding carefully.
Trapped under Barty’s insistent gaze, Evan wasn’t even sure he could get a whole sentence out if he tried. His throat felt ridiculously dry, and somewhere behind the haze in Evan’s mind he knew it was Barty’s fault. His stupid, green eyes’ fault.
Those green piercing eyes, that Evan was pretty sure were endless holes. And if he wasn’t careful enough Evan was sure he could fall into them, drowning in those seas of green, green, green. Not hazel or blue with green specks spread across them, but green. Neon and luminescent.
Barty averted his gaze to Evan’s lip again, and Evan breathed out unhindered, his eyes quickly flying down to that little spot on the floor he had previously been looking at.
Breathe Evan, the little voice in his head whispered, as if it were that easy. Just breathe.
Slowly, as if Barty expected him to pull away, Barty dabbed just beneath the wound, wiping the blood off carefully. His strokes were soft and experimenting, and it really shouldn’t make Evan feel so special.
Barty was just helping him like any other normal person would.
Not that Barty was normal. At all.
The silence around them was roaring and outright awkward, and Evan honestly just wanted to sink into the table and melt into the surface, becoming one with it.
Why couldn’t he have just told Barty that he could fix it when he got back to his dorm? For Merlin’s sake, he could have just asked Regulus to help him; that would’ve been less awkward and weird.
Barty took another small step closer, tilting Evan’s head a bit more in the movement and Evan felt his neck starting to protest against the strain of having to constantly look up. Barty was a few inches taller by nature, but Evan was now in sitting down, only increasing the height difference drastically. A look of concentration had taken over Barty’s face, and though Evan was getting uncomfortable, he chose not to mention it, staying silent and letting Barty work on his lip.
It was kind of amusing; watching Barty wipe the blood away, careful to not hurt Evan in the process. His brows were pulled together in a frown and his tongue was subconsciously playing with a canine tooth. Dark, messy hair was falling into his eyes and occasionally, he would pause his dabbing to blow it away or shake his head.
Evan found that he was almost smiling at the view, and quickly, before Barty could notice, he put on a neutral expression, looking back to the floor.
Suddenly, a hand wrapped around his, and Evan almost dropped the wand in surprise. The only thing preventing Evan from letting go was Barty’s hand around his. Barty seemed unaware of it, though, and he quickly repositioned the light, his eyes never leaving Evan’s lip.
“Yeah, it won’t stop bleeding,” Barty mumbled more to himself than to Evan. “I’m going to have to heal it.” Carefully, he took the wand from Evan, who quickly found his own wand and lit it so Barty could turn off his.
A few seconds passed, and Evan could feel a small knot starting to form in the pit of his stomach when Barty kept looking at his own wand with a thoughtful expression.
Barty knew how to heal, right?
Evan bit his tongue, desperately trying to get eye contact with Barty, who was still frowning at his wand.
Barty was clever; he could do it. Easily.
Suppressing a gulp, Evan forced himself to sit still as Barty finally looked up, a determined expression in his eyes. He was subconsciously turning his wand between his fingers, and a silver ring Evan hadn’t noticed before glinted in the dim light.
When another few seconds passed in awkward silence, Evan decided to say something.
“Do you kn-”
“I’m thinking,” Barty interrupted. His gaze was fixed on Evan’s, and though Evan knew Barty was just lost in thoughts, he still felt oddly exposed under his piercing eyes. Evan took a deep breath through his nostrils, hoping that Barty couldn’t see how wrecked his nerves were.
Finally, Barty seemed to pull himself together, shaking his head slightly before turning his attention back to Evan and lifting his wand in a manner Evan could only see as threatening.
He couldn’t help it, he needed to know.
“You know what you’re doing, right?”
Barty paused, contemplating the question for a second before saying, “I think I do.”
“Think?” Evan exclaimed. “You think-”
“Rosie, calm down; I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Well, you don’t know that, do y-”
“Evan!” Evan hated that he actually stopped talking. Slowly, he closed his mouth, settling on a scowl instead. “Thanks,” Barty continued. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think I would succeed.”
“Think.” Evan sneered at the word, but a pointed look from Barty shut him up again.
“Do I have your permission to try?”
“Again. Try. That’s not very calming, you know,” Evan said, grimacing.
“Well, I’ve never actually had to use the spell in a real situation before,” Barty snapped, the nonchalant facade finally cracking in the ends. “So, yeah, try, Rosie, I’ll try. I’ve performed the spell perfectly under less realistic circumstances – you know, in class – but I’ve never actually had to use it on someone. So, stop yelling at me. I’m trying to help you!”
Evan scowled at him, but Barty was just as stubborn, scowling back.
“Fine,” Evan said, throwing his hands up in surrender so the light from his wand cast shadows over Barty’s face. “Go ahead. Try. But if you ruin my face I will-
“I can’t ruin it when Mulciber already did that.” Barty rolled his eyes, grabbing Evan by the top of his head to tilt his face back, far less considerate this time. “Also, I need the light.” He waved his hand as a sign for Evan to lift his wand again, and Evan reluctantly did it, not wanting Barty to actually ruin his face.
“I mean it, Crouch, If-”
“Yeah, whatever, Rosie. Now, shut up.”
Barty didn’t give him an opportunity to say anything else because the next second he pulled away and lifted his wand, pointing it at Evan. Evan gulped, willing himself to stay seated to lessen the chance of mistakes.
Whether Barty actually believed he could do it or not, Evan wasn’t sure. Barty had already gained control of his facial expressions again, and Evan had to give it to him. He was damn good at keeping a straight face.
Barty took a deep breath, and as he mumbled a low “Episkey,” Evan had to admit that he had no idea if it was actually an actual charm or not.
At least it sounded like one.
First, nothing happened, but gradually, a warm feeling enveloped his lip. Evan had to repress the urge to scratch it; it was ticklish. The throbbing subsided, replaced by a comforting warmth that eventually faded, leaving him slightly colder than before.
For a moment, Evan could only gawk in astonishment. Then he burst into a hysterical laugh, raising a hand to his lip. To his amusement, both the pain and the wound were gone. All that was left, a bit of blood Barty hadn’t managed to get rid of, Evan rapidly wiped away with the back of his hand.
“Good?” Barty asked, worry shining in his eyes, and Evan pushed himself off the table, smiling like an idiot.
“You’re bloody brilliant, Crouch.”
Barty snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. He looked down to the blood-soaked end of his shirt and twirled it between his fingers for a second before looking up again, his face once again neutral.
“Well, you’re welcome,” Barty said, giving Evan a curt nod. Evan nodded back, a feeling of success overtaking him. They had managed to get away from Mulciber fairly unharmed; Evan’s face wasn’t ruined, and though he knew things with Mulciber were far from good or okay, Evan couldn’t bring himself to care for the moment.
“We should probably get going,” Barty said, bringing Evan out of his thoughts.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, letting Barty lead them to the door before turning off his wand, smothering them in the darkness once more. His eyes had adjusted to the light, so the sudden change almost caused him to lose track of his surroundings, but a hand on his elbow, guiding him to the wall, prevented him from being completely lost.
Slowly, his sight returned, with Barty’s silhouette in front of him being the first thing he could really see.
Barty waited a few more seconds before cracking the door open and peering through the doorway, and then an additional few seconds before he actually disappeared into the corridor. Evan followed shortly after.
There was no sign of Mulciber or any of the other Slytherin boys, but Evan knew not to be fooled by the silence. They could easily be waiting around the nearest corner. Barty closed the door behind them, and Evan was surprised to see that he could lock the door without muttering a single word out loud. Barty didn’t make a show out of it, though, quickly moving on, as if he hadn’t just used a type of magic Evan was pretty sure they were only supposed to learn about in sixth year at its earliest.
Evan shook his head, brushing it off. He would bring it up another time. He was also pretty sure they’d run into each other soon enough again, one way or another.
Before Barty could disappear completely out of view, Evan ran after him, making sure to tiptoe to avoid making any unnecessarily loud sounds. They stayed close together as they made their way through the corridors, never straying too far away from each other. Evan was surprised to see that there were no cruel surprises waiting for them around the corners.
Evan wasn’t sure when it hit him, but he suddenly realised that Barty wasn’t heading for the Ravenclaw common room when they turned another corner and the stairs to the dungeon and Slytherin common room appeared.
The dumbass was making sure that Evan returned to his dorm safely and without any further complications. Evan couldn’t stop himself from snorting and shaking his head at Barty, who had turned to face him with an anticipating look on his face. Evan sighed to himself, trying to contain the smile that wanted to bloom on his face. Barty frowned, confused, but Evan just shook his head before going down the stairs to the awaiting bed in his dorm.
If Barty ended up getting caught by Filch, it would be his own fault. And if ended up with a detention of some sort, Evan would do absolutely nothing but laugh at him.