Force my hand

Barty Crouch Jr apparated into a small street, old buildings towered over him as he looked around, bricks yellow and brown in their years. Across the road there was a door into a building, bricks arched over it protectively and the textured door was open slightly, the sign next to it was covered in a dark fog. It had a small model of the dark mark. He could feel the burn of his own, he was being summoned but he had a different task to follow. He isn’t sure if he’s thankful for that or not.

He glanced curiously around as he crossed the road, thinking of what task he would be asked to do tonight. Something as simple as protecting something, as easy as finding something or something more sinister. Maybe this secret mission will give some much needed excitement to his life.

As he walked through the door it was dark, no lights were on and no sounds came from the building. So Barty watched, his face showed now change as he looked around but his mind was curious. He decided to walk forward, into the grand room and watched the coloured glass that surrounded them. As he walked around he could see a shimmer in the corner of his eye, he turned to the middle of the room slowly.

Moving his head slightly he saw the air shimmer once more, a wall of air in the middle of the room but the rainbow of light that came through the windows went through whatever was there. Curiously, he walked forward, step by step and as he got closer it was obvious that there was something in the middle of the room. Something that was being protected.

Did they want Barty to steal it? To blow it up? Was there someone there he was going to kill?

He had no idea. It was exciting though.

But one more step forward brought him directly in front of it and although he couldn’t see the wall of air fully, it still shimmered in the corner of his eye. With a slow breath he reached up his hand and reached out for the wall. A hand grabbed his own and with a sharp breath he was yanked into the wall, phasing through it and falling forwards. That hand let go but he turned quickly, wand out and ready as he turned to face-

“We’ve been waiting for you to show up, Barry.” She said, a wicked smile on her face as her crazed hair was pulled in all directions. He looked around to see two other people in the small box, two men and . Rodolphus and Rabastan.

“It’s Barty.” He told her, stepping away from the three of them and lowering his wand slightly but not giving it up.

The woman gasped with a hand to her mouth, “Oh, how could I have forgotten that?” But the way her lips turned up behind her fingers was recognisable by many and if death was a person, they’d recognise it too.

Barty just smiled curtly, “How you hurt me Bellatrix Lestrange.” It was less exciting, more intriguing now.

She laughed, it was manic and unsettling as her husband chuckled slightly with her. They were both as deranged as each other, Barty had about a thousand questions he wanted answered. Probably the first, was this the day he was going to die?

“Finally, now we can get started.” Rabastan rolled his eyes as he moved to stand at the centre of the small box that hid them from the world.

“What is this?” Barty asked as he stayed where he was, moving his wand to his side.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked at each other, chuckling and smiling before turning back to Barty and Rabastan. “This is your in.” Rodolphus spoke to his brother proudly, Barty watched silently.

“My in?” Rabastan questioned with a smile already lifting his face.

“Both of your ins.” Bellatrix added cheerfully as she looked at Barty, her gaze lingering slightly. “In a week we’ll all meet again at 47 Windle Road in Liverpool, right at midnight.” A crazed smile took over her face once more and Barty had questions, a lot of questions but he doesn’t ask.

No, Rabastan steps forward. “Who lives there?” He’s not curious about it, more excited.

Bellatrix turns to him and pauses, looking at everyone for a second slowly. The Black children are so dramatic. “Frank and Alice Longbottom.” Chuckles and questions are asked once more. Barty has a few of his own.

Why are they going after Frank and Alice?

“What are we doing to them?” Rodolphus asks instead, they all wear sickening smiles as they talk about the spells they'll use on the couple. Of course they all only cared for violence, Barty didn’t mind violence but he was too curious to just do things for the sake of doing them. He wanted to know why, needed a reason, a purpose he supposes if people wanted to get technical.

“And their son?” Barty interrupts while his thumb rubs against his wand handle idly.

“He'll be the first to go, Alice and Frank won't last after he's gone.”

Before Barty can really process that he has indeed been asked to kill someone Bellatrix caught his eye. The way she looked wasn’t cruel, it didn’t hold that mania behind her smile. It was more curious, that was dangerous.

“You know,” Bellatrix spoke as she moved to stand in front of him with the brothers speaking opposite them. “If you play your cards right… maybe people will see you aren’t just a pretty face.” She whispered to him, their flirting had been going on for years. Nothing ever happened between them though, Barty has loyalty to his friends. Most of the time.

So Barty, instead of leaning away, leaned forwards with a smirk on his face. “What about my pretty face card?” Her grin widened impossibly at his question. If he did play his cards right, he might be able to be a part of greater plans. Learn more than what he knows or do more than what he does now.

And it was tempting, with how bleak his life was now and how lonely the years had been. It was a very tempting offer.

“Do you not have any others?” She questioned and it was far from innocent as her eyelashes fluttered and she looked him up and down. Barty turned his head with a small huff as he leaned forwards once more and whispered into her ear. Regulus was going to kill him. “No others that compare to you.”

“Yeah?” She challenged. Barty couldn’t help the way his eyes glanced at her husband who was watching them carefully from the otherside of the room before they dropped as he looked at her. Bellatrix watched him, sticking her head higher as she bit into her bottom lip with that sinister smile.

Barty didn’t continue it, “I think Reg would kill me if I touched you.” He whispered to her, watching as she raised an eyebrow. It’s not only that that is stopping him, it’s at least 15% of what's stopping him. The other 75% Barty is not about to admit standing this close to Bellatrix Lestrange.

“My baby cousin? So that’s what stopped you?” She laughed as she stepped away with her head shaking. “Well you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” She turned back to look at him, a smirk on her face but her eyes were clear again. Questioning.

“That and your husband,” He watched as she raised an eyebrow at him, obviously disbelieving. “Husbands always cause problems, I’ve got enough problems.” He smiled sweetly as he watched her but then he remembered what she said and his face fell slightly, a small smile still dancing on his lips. “What do you mean? About Regulus?” He asked and he could feel his heart sink.

Bellatrix just rolls her eyes, “Husbands do cause problems.” She whispered to him with a chuckle.

Barty didn’t laugh, he waited until she turned to him once more. “And Regulus?” He asked, unwilling to let himself spiral in front of the Lestrange’s.

Bellatrix hummed as she spun around where she stood before coming to stand once more in front of Barty. She put her hand on the edge of his robes and traced her hands on him until they rested on his shoulders. “Put your arms around me.” She ordered, looking up at him through curled lashes and a seductive stare.

Barty did as he was told and put his hands on her waist, she moved slightly to join her hands behind his head. Feeling the small hairs at the back of his neck and he moved a hand to grab the side of her stomach to stop her from moving further. “Reg?” He asked again and she sighed back.

With a hand still stroking the hair on his head she leaned forwards, “Easy.” He whispered as he held her steady, he really did not want to die tonight. Especially by a Lestrange brother.

Bellatrix just smiled and whispered to him, “His funerals coming up, have you not read?”

His stomach turned, ‘Funeral?’ But that wasn’t the question he asked, “Who?” His back straightened as his fingers dug into her waist unknowingly.

“Huh.” Her head tilted to the side, “Well after Voldemort found out he was a traitor, who do you think?” Her eyes looked around but her sarcasm wasn’t appreciated, she smiled again.

“It was Voldemort?” Barty could hardly be the one to march up to his doorstep and start a fight, a fight he would want to win but lose. He had plenty of tricks though and there were plenty of ways to kill a man. The annoying part is Voldemort isn’t just any man.

“No, no.” She shook her head, “Not him personally, he got someone else to do it. Some beginner Death Eater, I heard he went down fighting though, he burnt the rest of the team to a crisp- nothing but ash left of them.” Barty held back the smirk at that, little Regulus had grown up. “Of course, there was nothing left of him either.”

He couldn’t retort as she was ripped out of his grasp, “Hands off my wife!” Rodolphus yelled as his brother pushed Barty away from the three of them. Bellatrix just watched him as she was pulled next to her husband's side.

He stumbled away from the three of them, his mind drifting from itself. “No hands.” He told the boys as he grabbed his wand from under his robes, it threatening to split in his hand.

“Get out of here.” Rabastan waved him away and Barty didn’t want to waste that opportunity, his chest heaving as he walked away.

“Yea, go back to your fucking owner.” Rabastan laughed behind him, Bellatrix crossed her arms as she watched them, giggling in the corner.

Barty continued to smile charmingly while he turned back around, “Owner?” He questioned with a raise of his eyebrow and nod of his head.

“Yea.” Rabastan replied as Rodolphus tried to pry him away, “You know, the rosie twin.” Barty’s jaw tensed through his smile as he rubbed his nose with the back of his fingers and huffed a laugh. “Not the pretty one though.” He clarified as he stumbled away from his brother, “No, the one who’s got mountains of daddy issues and seems to lay with any grandpa that he can reach- like the wh-”

“Petrificus-” Barty whispered through his teeth and flicked his wand at Rodolphus and Bellatrix before turning to Rabastan. Truthfully, he wasn’t thinking, his mind was blank. In a constant loop of; Funeral. Funeral. Funeral. The only other thing on his mind was keeping his ‘friend's’ name out of that dirty mouth.

So he didn’t think, as he sent a spell to Rabastan’s knee and made him fall. He didn’t think as he punched him and kicked him. He didn’t think as a wand was held on the back of his neck and his brother tried to separate them. He definitely didn’t think as he held his wand on Rabastan’s shoulder and seethed, “Incendio.”

He could barely think, barely see. His mind in a haze and numb to every decision he was making, he could just barely comprehend the spells that were fired at him and the voice telling him to leave. So he apparated out of the building, a venomous spell just missing where he once stood. He didn’t land far, right on top of the building he was just in, as he stumbled back a paper fell from beneath his robes that he hadn’t put there.

‘GRIMMAULD PLACE LEFT IN FLAMES’ The title read, wet spots expanded on the paper but it wasn’t Barty. No, his eyes were blinking every second to try and change the words on the paper. It had just happened last night, Orion and Regulus dead, there was to be barely a funeral. The House of Black had fallen, bullshit after bullshit lines of writing, none of it could be true. It just fucking couldn’t.

________________________________________

He was asleep, resting uncomfortably before it started. His body propped up against a tree on the outskirt of a random town he couldn’t care to learn. Then he felt it. The dark, gruelling and stinging pain.

He was awake instantly, wand in his hand as he stood, dizzy from the quick movement he looked around. His eyes tried to weave between the trees in front of him, looking through the small fog that surfaced during the cold night, but he found nothing. It wasn’t until he calmed down he realised what was happening.

He was being summoned.

He looked down at his arm, knowing this familiar writhing, the dark magic even more toxic now. Having been in such close contact with his magic, having it intoxicate his mind with Voldemort's memories, it was felt deeper inside his own. His mind flashed again, the dark mark activating another cycle of memories, the same ones again and again.

It was painful, the memories that weren't his own were forcing their way into his mind, he had to grab his head as he held back screams. He strained his neck as he leant back against the tree, his head turned and eyes rolled back. Memory after memory.

It didn’t stop until the dark mark settled. He was left in a heaving pile, tears stung in his eyes but he refused to let them fall, it took hours of more rest until he could finally stand once more. His hatred was growing, the memories now fresh in his mind and nothing else could distract him. There were more horcruxes, too many for Regulus to find and destroy on his own; he knew that.

But as Regulus thought, no one came to mind, he wanted to destroy as many as he could. Bring Voldemort to his mortal knees and show him just how human he is, how helpless he could be. He wanted to make him feel like a muggle compared to Regulus’ magic.

If Voldemort wanted to fight with dark magic, the dark magic Regulus was born into, he would find himself outmatched.

With those thoughts, Regulus’s return to London hastened.

________________________________________

When Barty was back at his own place his brain was wrecked, constant thoughts ploughed through but he tried to make a plan. His apartment was minimal, hardly any decorations or furniture apart from what was needed. He took his wand and standing in front of his sofa he whispered his secret passkey, “I love pineapples.”

As his wand was turned back towards the sofa it started to change. The headboard grew taller as the fabric on the sofa moved to the front of it and into a shape. The arms of the couch also raised and attached itself to the side of what has taken the shape of a large pin wall. The fabric now shows a map of England and Wales. Post-stick notes of pink and yellow were stuck to the two boards attached to it.

There were main words that constantly showed; his friends' names, Voldemort and places Barty had heard about.

His hand hovered over Evan and Pandoras pins, pictures of them hovered above the Rosier mansion. Although Pandora moved out she still sends and receives letters from her brother, Evan however stayed. Getting into the mansion unnoticed would be impossible, he'd have to take down the barriers which could take days. Days he doesn't have, he would just have to hope he would see them at the funeral.

His hand moved up, towards another picture that hovered over a yellow pin. Dorcas.

________________________________________

Regulus was finally back in London. He stepped out of the cubical into the dirty toilets, taking a breath as he walked out the building. It was day time, people stomped down the paths and cars polluted the roads. Luckily for Regulus, the only luck he had gotten yet, there was a Knight Bus running through London.

It didn’t take long at all, he pressed the brick and waited with the muggles, as soon as the bus was in sight Regulus was gone. The doors opened and the woman didn’t even look at him as she pointed behind her. “Where you off tu?” She gurgled, her accent thick as she turned to slightly glare at him.

“Spring street.” He told the lady before moving down the bus, she muttered something with a shaking head but he didn’t hear it. Instead his head glossed over the empty bus seats as he sat down on one. Something pressed at him though, as the small hairs on his arms stood and the air around him got thicker he reached his hand into his blazer pocket. His grip on his wand tightening before he looked around once more.

Instead of empty, he was slightly startled by the figure that sat across from him. Sitting up straight he watched them in the corner of his eye, his hand never leaving his wand.

The bus was speeding through empty streets and through red lights, it stopped but not where Regulus wanted to get off. The person across from him stood, their robes wisped around them soundlessly as they got off the bus and it started to race away again.

He was about to relax when a voice spoke from behind him, “Dark, isn't it?” She mumbled through narrowed eyes. Regulus turned slowly to see the elderly woman leaning next to him, her head poking out into the aisle as they stared at each other. Although she was staring at Regulus, it felt as if she was mostly talking to herself. Another wave of confusion swept through him as he recognised her accent, she’s French.

“What?” He questioned as his grip tightened onto his wand once more.

“No need for that.” She shook her head as he startled, “Just a curious thing...” She whispered before moving to sit back at her seat quickly, in a rush to go through her pockets. Regulus stared at where she once was, confused as ever.

As he turned to question her once more she moved past him with wobbled steps, the bus had stopped again. It was his. He stood too and as he got off the bus he saw her walking down the cobbled street, his curiosity stayed stagnant as he walked the opposite way.

Spring street was like Diagon alley but with fewer Hogwarts students and more significant shops. Items of darker capacities, not as much as knockturn alley, century old relics and more knowledgeable books. The place was just as old as Diagon Alley, as was Flock Road and Paean Passage. Merlin, Regulus hated Paean Passage.

They each had a theme, if you hadn’t noticed. Old bricks that were laid centuries before, instead of red they were grey. Darker in crevices before the moss took over, he walked past tall and small buildings. The colourful and the gloomy before turning into Nice Street, which held the only building that was open this late at night.

It was silent as he walked in, cobbled stone turned to tiled floors and dark wooden walls. He walked up to the counter as he looked around, it hadn’t changed at all. Spring Street wasn’t as known as Diagon Alley or more like less used. People preferred Diagon Alley, especially with it being so close to King’s Cross.

He stayed at the counter for seconds before a man walked behind it, he sighed tiredly as he opened a drawer that Regulus couldn’t see. “First, Second or Fourth?” The man asked without introducing himself, his voice hoarse, Regulus couldn’t tell if it was lack of sleep or just his voice.

“Second.” He answered, putting a hand into his inner pocket and opening the small pouch inside.

“Right-” He coughed roughly before grabbing a key and putting it on the counter. “Sign your name on that and here’s your key.” As Regulus took out his money he gave it to the man, coins clanked softly as he put them into the drawer.

Instead of getting his wand out, Regulus held up more coins. “And if I gave you these?” He held ten Galleons in his hand and offered them to the man, his eyes drifting over the paper next to him on the clipboard as he lifted the key.

The man grunted, obviously used to doing this business, it's why people like Regulus go to places like this. “Suppose second is down for maintenance, for now.” He took the coins and left the room out of the back door. Regulus walked up the stairs, straight and swirled, then headed into the room down the corridor. As soon as he entered the room he shut, locked and spelled the door.

There was a lot he needed to do, wanted to do, but his lack of rest had caught up with him. Having a small resemblance of safety surrounding him he decided to lay down but his wand never left his hand.