16th November 1980
The first thing he noticed when he got back was that nobody was in the flat. Well, apart from Misty, but she was a cat, so she didn’t count. The point was, there was no Evan. Which was strange, because the mission he was sent on was relatively small and really should only have taken a few hours at most. He wasn’t trusted to take part in any large missions for the war anymore, not since he had almost gotten them all caught up when they were dealing with the Longbottoms. It was also strange because Evan was sweet and caring and definitely not the type of person to miss the dinner he had planned for his partner’s birthday.
After looking around for him for a few moments, Barty realised that he was truly alone. There was nothing to suggest the possibility of Evan coming back and popping out for something else. There were no notes on the table, no wand left on the sofa, no steel mask anywhere. He was definitely still out on that mission. The chances of him going to the shops or visiting someone without coming back after were ridiculously low. Evan would definitely come back for a shower first, he would come back to wash off the blood and sweat and get changed before he went anywhere else, that was the type of person he was.
So, either the operation had taken longer than expected, or, and he hated to consider it, something had gone terribly wrong.
He laughed coldly and scolded himself the second the thought surfaced but just couldn’t manage to shake the fear that something had happened to him. They were living in a war, anything could happen. Many people they loved had already been killed, their closest friend had gone missing coming up to a year ago, so it wasn’t too far-fetched that Evan was gone too. But he couldn’t be. He was smart and strong and proud…and everything Regulus had been before he went missing. Meaning it was highly likely he was gone. It didn’t matter how good he was at fighting, the opposition had some of the strongest Aurors wizardkind has ever witnessed. Anybody could be taken by them. Including Evan.
As he searched more and more frantically for a sign he had gone out for a few minutes, the thought weaved its way into every thought he had, the more he tried to push it away, the more force it put into pushing back. It grew stronger and stronger, infestation his mind, gifting him images of Evan laying on the ground somewhere, cold, alone, gone forever.
“Stop, stop, stop, you’re being ridiculous. He’s fine, he is, he’s okay. This is Evan we’re thinking about, he isn’t stupid, he’s okay. It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s not…he’s not dead. He just isn’t.” Misty slowly approached him as he started rambling to himself, tilting her head in confusion and rubbing across his leg to get his attention. She mewled when he ignored her and flinched when he sharply looked down. After realising it was just the cat, he shook his head, ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the closest armchair, the one Evan loved, and beckoned her over. Misty trotted happily and jumped up onto his lap, padding around and settling down, nuzzling her head into his chest and waiting for him to pet her.
It was Evan’s idea to get a cat. They had just bought the flat and had found her walking around outside. Barty wanted a dog or snake but they had agreed to not get a pet until the war was over because they wanted to give them time and affection without the fear they would end up abandoning them prematurely. But when Evan caught a glimpse of a small brown tabby loitering in the middle of a road, he couldn’t help but pick them up and take them to safety. When she didn’t fight back against him, they assumed she had an owner, but upon closer inspection, they realised she was in a condition too terrible to be a beloved pet. They got her checked and, after confirmation that she was, indeed, homeless, had taken her in and loved her like she was their child. They often referred to her as such and referred to each other as ‘dad’ when talking to her. Evan had named her, of course. Barty had wanted her name to be Salazar, but Evan didn’t like the idea of naming a kitten after a dead man with a long, pointy beard and a thing for snakes. So he had chosen the name Misty. A slightly more boring and common name, sure, but he guessed it was sweet enough.
She purred softly as he scratched behind her ears, trying to remain calm. “Don’t worry, Mes, I’m just being dramatic. I was a bit scared because your dad went out and isn’t back yet but he’ll be okay, he can defend himself, you’ll see,” He knew the words were more to comfort himself than anyone else; Misty looked up at him with those bright, confused eyes and he smiled down at her, scratching her nose gently and shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, your dad’s just talking nonsense.”
She kept staring up at him as tears began to form in his eyes. He knew he was being stupid and that Evan could be fine but the mental images were too much to handle.
It was a few minutes before he had gathered the energy to pry himself from the chair, letting misty slide off of him, and kneel down by the fire to do the only thing he could think of.
Pandora greeted him almost instantly, turning around to face her fire and abandoning the tarot cards she had been working with.
“Barty! Hiya, sweet, happy birthday!”
He frowned for a second, catching up with what she had said. “Oh! Yeah, thanks, Dora.”
He watched as her smile dropped and she shuffled around, likely making herself more comfortable before he hit her with whatever he was going to say.
“What’s wrong? You’re usually buzzing around all day. Did Evan forget?”
Gulping, he moved one hand to his hair to pull at ur nervously and licked his lips. “No, he remembered, at least, I think he did. I don’t know, he left before I woke up. But…erm, he planned our dinner for later so he probably didn’t. It’s just…have you seen him today?”
“No,” She was starting to look concerned. “No, I haven’t seen him since October, you know what he’s like. Doesn’t even care about his own sister more than you and the war. Why do you ask?”
This was looking bad. “I don’t know, he was sent out this morning but he is supposed to be back by now and I just wanted to prove to myself that he wasn’t…you know…”
“Oh,” She looked more than terrified. “I’m sure he’s okay, I mean, he’s been back late before, right?”
No. No he hasn’t. He never has.
“Yeah. Yeah, no you’re right. He’s probably fine.” He pulled his head back from the fireplace and stood up, walking through to the kitchen and pouring himself some water, slowly drinking it how Evan had taught him to if he was nervous. It usually helped calm him by drinking small sips of water at a controlled rate but now it wasn’t helping at all. It was just another reminder of something Evan had left with him, maybe never to remind him of it again.
He was replaying the conversation with Pandora in his mind when he remembered something she had shown them a few weeks before Regulus disappeared. Apparently she had seen a few of Dumbledore’s minions using it and figured it out for herself.
It was significantly more difficult to cast a patronus now than it would have been even the day before. His life was so miserable that happy memories were scarce and those he did happen to have were now tainted with fear. After the things he had done, it was a wonder his patronus still existed.
Eventually, the silvery swan did appear before him, awaiting whatever he asked them to do.
“I have a message for Evan.” His voice came out as a whisper. The swan nodded and he paused, thinking about what to say. “Hi, Ev. I don’t want to stress you but I’m worried. You’ve been gone all day and I don’t know when you’re going to be back so I wanted to check in and make sure you were okay. If you’re going to be back soon, let me know. Actually, please send a response no matter what. I’m being really irrational and just need to know that you aren’t…dead. That’s all, I think. I love you.”
He nodded at the swan and watched as it paused, trying to pinpoint Evan’s location, then, instead of turning around, it shook its head and vanished into nothingness.
That was all the confirmation he needed.
It was true. Evan was gone. Forever.
He could never watch as he played with Misty in the evenings. He could never leave kisses along his collarbones in the mornings. He would probably never even see his body. Evan was dead. The same Evan who compared answers in tests in school, the same Evan who snuck badly hidden glances across the table in the library, the Evan who always dipped his strawberries in chocolate and watched as the excess ran off until it was coated evenly. His Evan who found excuses to sneak into his bed and cuddle all night all the way from their 3rd year. Evan who had confessed his feelings on New Year’s Eve, just hours before they heard of Regulus’ disappearance. Evan who loved writing poetry in his journal and charming it so Barty could never see. Evan who giggled when he laughed. Evan who loved nose and forehead kisses. Evan who loved nothing more than helping people he cared about and leasing them along to understanding their trauma. Evan who was always home on time, constantly prepared. Evan who spent an hour each morning making sure each blond curl in his hair was perfect. Evan who had abandoned the man he loved to fight this war on his own, without love to guide him.
That night, as he sat on the edge of his bed, holding a gift addressed to him with a swan feather tied into the ribbon on top, he couldn’t bring himself to open it. He was scared of damaging something he had put so much time into, he wanted to keep this little part of Evan forever. What was in the box didn’t matter to him, he would have felt too guilty tearing the wrapping apart and greedily grabbing at whatever it contained.
He also vowed to never celebrate his birthday again.