“Barty, don’t run. Let me help you.” His father called, Barty standing in the doorway of his childhood home. He was shaking, unsure of anything, and simultaneously dealing with hundreds of conflicting feelings. 13 years ago had gone by since he had been freed from Askaban by the very man who sent him there in the first place, he couldn’t stay any longer. How could he expect him to stay in the same house with the man who finished off any last piece of sanity he had held onto after losing every one of his friends? He remembered finding out about Evan’s death, a part of Barty died with Evan that day, he should’ve been with him that day, the war was no longer going in their favour and more death eaters were being captured and killed by the day. Barty would have been able to help him, and save him from his tortured end, but alas, he wasn't there and Evan was killed. Then there was Regulus, presumed dead by his family. All they’d cared about is the loss of their noble heir, he never mattered to them. Barty cared for him more than his family ever would’ve. He knew not of how he’d died, only that he vanished without a trace. If he were alive, someone would’ve found him by now, there’s no leaving this path once you’re on it.
“Bartemius, don’t you dare leave like this.” His father demanded as Barty turned on his heel and walked right down the stone steps and apperated. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, he decided to let his mind do that for him. Anywhere but that house.
Neverending fields appeared in front of Barty, confusing him greatly. Who would live in the middle of a field, especially with the amount of pollen this time of year? They must be crazier than him, he thought.
Oh. Of course.
Pandora.
It all made sense now, of course he would come to her. He began walking up to the front door before suddenly stopping in his tracks. What if she blamed him for their deaths? She would never forgive him, she probably hated him. Barty considered turning back but realising he had nowhere to go, knocked lightly on the door instead.
“Pandy?” He called, a wobble in his voice.
A young girl opened the door, everything about her was identical to Pandora. Her unruly hair, her bright smile, her eyes, oh god her eyes.
“Hello.” She answered
“I-” He began, lost in his search for words. “I’m looking for Pandora, is she here?” He eventually made out.
“Oh, no she isn’t I'm sorry.” The girl replied, a quick change in her expression.
“Do you know when she might be back?” Barty questioned, hopeful it’d be soon.
“Would you like to come inside? We have tea.” She asked, avoiding the question.
“No that’s alright I'll just wait for Pandora, no need to bother you.” Barty wasn’t really one for small talk and tea.
“Pandora, my mother, she died. 5 years ago now, I was 9.” The girl whispered, an obvious pain in her voice.
Barty’s world came crashing down all over again.