Barty knew that it needed to stop. It never ends well. Why couldn’t he have fallen for someone else? Why not Pandora or Lily o-or Remus. Even Sirius at that point, but no. He had to fall in love with Evan, his best friend. Barty’s been down this road before. Barty already fell for Regulus, who was his other best friend, and look at where that got him. Crying over his breakup 3 years ago, and grieving his death 6 months later. He should’ve seen this coming.
There he was, weeping over Evan’s grave. Why does the universe hate him? He remembers that day so well. The weight of his body in his arms, the blood staining his hands. Here he was, 20 years old weeping over the loss of his best friend and the love of his life. Evan and Barty weren’t dating, but that didn’t stop Barty thinking that Evan was the one.
When Regulus died, Evan called them Barty and Regulus, a big tragedy. At first Barty agreed with Evan. He thought he might’ve done anything to get Regulus back, but that’s not true.
Yesterday is a clear example of that. He knows this now as he chased down the man who killed Evan. His heart beat fast as he ran. His pumping heart is a constant reminder that Evan isn’t here anymore. Oh how he wishes he was. Barty turned a corner as his victim went in another direction. Just down the street was Evan’s old house. Under different circumstances, Barty would’ve been so happy to see it, but now he wants to weep, or punch something. Maybe both at this point. He saw the man, Mad-eye, run up the stairs and into the house. How Mad-eye has a key, Barty doesn’t have a clue, but he didn’t give any thought to it.
Barty entered the house. He crept into the house, listening for any noise. Down the hall, there was short, jagged breathing. Barty crept closer. He still remembers the awful ringing in his ears. The deafening thump of his heart, and the sickening crunch of Mad-eye bones breaking.
A shiver runs down Barty’s spine. He looks down at his hand, still able to feel the texture of his skin against his as he hurted him. Barty won’t say what he really did, being far too scary. Dorcas, basically his sister, found him there, weeping on the floor trying to wash his bloody hands. She brought him to her house and just held him. Oh how he needed that. She’s here with him at this moment. Her tears are dry by now. Barty shakes his head trying to get rid of his thoughts. Only think about Evan. Only Evan, he thought over and over. Only his soft, wavy hair, his pale brown eyes, his plump lips, his smile, his favorite book! Evan’s favorite genre was poetry, and oh how that did things to Barty. People have called him weird for it, but he can’t help it. People who read and/or write poetry are instantly very attractive to him.
Regulus and Evan would talk for hours about their newest poems. Evan wrote some, but he never knew what they were about. It’s a shame really. Barty bets he was good. On his 14th birthday, Barty got him poems and books that Edgar Allen Poe wrote. He doesn’t really understand why Evan liked them. They were all so creepy, and not in a good way especially Evan’s favorite, “Annabel Lee”. Barty was always creeped out by what Edgar did, but now, to some degree, he understood.
Barty doesn’t sleep in Evan’s grave, but he understands the feeling of someone being taken from you so quickly and suddenly that you only long for that person in unhealthy ways. Maybe he was more like Edgar and his characters than he thought. No! Barty thought, I’m not a mad man. He sighed. Who was he fooling? Love has made him a psychopath.
Barty wishes that Evan’s poems were about him. He knows that it’s not true. Barty was too energetic and overwhelming to love. Regulus only stuck around for that long because he felt pity for him. Even if not, Regulus could relate to having a messed up family. But Evan did too, Barty’s mind supplied hopelessly. That doesn’t mean anything. It would never happen. Evan wasn’t even a dating type of guy. He was very serious and never been with anyone. He would never like Barty even if he was alive, no matter how much he wishes it was true.
Dorcas patted him on the back signaling it’s time to go. “ Just one second,” pleaded Barty. Dorcas nodded as she headed to the car. “I miss you Evan. I like- no love- you more than just a friend. I'm sorry that I didn’t say it to you before.”
“I love you too Barty,” said Evan from down below. “Mon ange.”