God Only Knows
If you should ever leave me
Though life would still go on, believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good what living do me?
12th May 1976
Barty Crouch Jr was an erratic, nervous looking boy with a sour complexion and a sourer attitude. He had nearly been a Ravenclaw, until fate swayed his mind on the train ride to the castle.
He saw a boy shove a girl over, frowning at the crude display.
But later, he saw the same boy taunted out of a carriage by the girl and her friends. Upon some probing, the boy confessed that they all wanted to be Gryffindors, and had called Slytherin stupid.
That was enough to make the fickle child beg the hat to place him there.
Thinking back, it might have been a mistake to base that decision purely on some silly moment. Especially considering Pandora was a Ravenclaw - and friends with that very group that spurned the black haired boy.
That same black haired boy that pissed him off every single day.
The catalyst; a girl he first knew through fights and spats in corridors. The two both angry, and mad, and in need of another to feel it. He saw James Potter’s days off classes, the different moods, and he knew… he just knew that boy was like them. He’d tried to approach, to befriend the Gryffindor - but he simply couldn’t. There was a trait to James Potter that Barty was too unfamiliar with.
He wasn’t angry.
Not like Barty and Ara. An anger, built in wounds that needed retribution. Two abused children taking turns at scarring the other - if only to not harm themselves.
And then she’d stopped.
It wasn’t as though she was unleashing it elsewhere; he never saw bruises on anyone she interacted with. She had simply one day blocked his hex, and walked away.
They hadn’t spoken since. Weeks of silence from the girl he’d come to rely on, far more than he was willing to admit. And Potter had seemed pointless to befriend, if he were so similar and yet so different. Too opposite to compatibly communicate.
So, he waited. Barty spent a lot of time waiting, those days. Wondering exactly when he might be able to figure out what next to do. Ignored letters from his father - just the usual demands for excellence. Ignored the fact that Ara stopped saying hello, then stopped bumping his shoulder. Ignored his stupid housemates and their constant nattering.
How long could he ignore it all? How much longer did he have to avoid the vows he’d made, too young to know just what he’d given?
As the horde of fifth years escaped their Charms exam, Barty found a familiar head of pale blonde - pulling her arm and leading her to a small alcove by the Great Hall. Tucking them behind a tapestry, he turned to the girl before him.
“Pandie, please.” His tongue darted between his lips; a new nervous gesture that sent a shiver of repulsion down her spine.
“Oh, Barty. I haven’t been that for quite some time.” She sighed, pining him with that Seeing blue gaze. It made him feel sick. “You haven’t known me since we were children.”
“And who’s fault is that?”
“You chose Slytherin.” Pandora spoke kindly. “In another life, we could have been in blue together.”
He knew that. It was what the hat had told him, after all. Sometimes he dreamt about it. The pair of them in blue robes, Pandora with her odd accessories. He would have been able to have actual friends, were he not a Slytherin.
There would have been more good days than one. That afternoon he and Ara had hexed trees… Barty would be lying if he said it hadn’t been the highlight of his time at Hogwarts.
“I’m unforgivable, I know. I’m selfish and self-serving and I’ll hang around with blood purists just so I’m not alone; I know.” He sighed, the height of his confession escaping him in that single breath. “But I’m only fifteen. My life is over before it even started, because of a stupid decision I made when I was eleven years old. How is that fair?”
Their eyes remained locked, tense air surrounding them. The only sound; his heavy pants as he tried to catch his breath.
“Fate is never fair.” Pandora sighed, looking through him. Squirming slightly, he looked back. “The pursuit of staining your father’s name will ruin you. And I cannot be the force to prevent it.”
“Please-”
“You fall down this path in every universe, Barty.” She blinked back glistening tears, mouth contorted to a sorrowful frown. “My presence doesn’t stop, or even slow it. No one does. You seek another person to blame for when you fall, and I will not be part of it. I have friends that I love dearly, whom you slander and hex. And I know that no amount of loving you could soothe the deprecation of your thoughts or the wince you pull at the mention of ‘Junior’ tacked onto your name. There is a kindness to be had in letting ties loosen. But there is greater relief in untying them yourself.”
“Pandora.” He begged.
“I’m only fifteen, Barty.” She bit back, throwing his words in his face. “Do not make me some divine saviour; I am a child. Why would I devote myself to a boy that will not change for himself? Why would I subject anyone I loved to it?”
His eyes widened as his stomach lurched. She shoved his hand away from her, forcing herself past with a short glare before she spun - pale hair swishing to shied her expression. Watching as his cousin turned to go, words tumbled from Barty’s mouth, sharp and unforgiving.
“You took Ara from me.” He realised.
At his words, Pandora froze her steps - her back to him as she stood for a moment, just by the exit of the alcove.
“She was mine first.” Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. “I won’t let you take my Ottie.”
There was a light patter before her feet swept her out the dimness.
Leaving behind a trail of her tears.
Barty Crouch Junior was an erratic, nervous boy. So he stayed in that alcove, silent tears streaming down pale cheeks as he mourned the life he could have led. The one that he just wanted the chance to have, that everyone seemed content to deny him.
All he was good for was violence. Ara Black had only briefly tolerated him so she had someone to harm and be harmed by equally. To her, Barty had surely been a means to an end. Pandora considered him already lost, and beyond any saving. Considering the quiet power she held, the knowing looks she’d shared since they were children…
She would know.
He roughly wiped the tears from his face, slicking his hair back with the residue as he threw a charm upon his face and stepped back into the hallway. It was empty now; the scatters of students all tucked away in classrooms.
Trudging through, he resigned himself to another day of missed classes. Maybe he’d go back to that bit in the forest. Well, more so, try to find it. Since he’d lost favour with the Mad Black, he’d not been able to find their clearing.
Her clearing.
Barty was so caught in his stewing, that he missed the pair crossing paths through the corridor. But he didn’t miss the shoulder that bumped his; harsh and firm. He spun to face two of the Marauders. The best and the worst, in his opinion.
Lupin looked positively feral. Sneering past his silver lip ring, long fringe scraggly and pulled before his eyes. He was dressed in one of his pitiful jumpers; more tears and frays than knit. Pettigrew was beside him. Stood with his usual fretful frown, eyes darting between the pair as they froze. It was a painfully familiar look; that cowardly glint the boy would sport as others fought his battles. Or just battles in general.
Barty was fairly certain that the mousy blond had never once been in a fight in his life.
“Oh piss off, Lupin.” Barty growled, wand shaking in his clenched fist. He didn’t remember reaching for it. “I don’t care for whatever preening shit you feel the need to do now you’re bedding the Mad Black.”
The taller boy blinked down at him, clearly surprised by the immediate harshness of Barty’s words. Just because he’d been itching for a fight, didn’t mean he hadn’t expected the Slytherin to be desperate too.
“Pete, hold my wand.” Remus grit out, thrusting it into his friend’s outstretched palm - the gesture so quick and strong that the shorter boy shrieked at the impact. “I don’t need magic to deal with a prick like him.”
Then, after squaring his shoulders and tilting his neck to crack the bones, the scarred boy lunged for the Slytherin. His fist met Barty’s cheekbone with such force that it whipped his head; wand dropping as his hands spasmed.
Soon they were on the stone flooring, arms flailing between them as the pair threw hit after hit at the other. Blood splatting and bone hitting bone as the pair hurled insults at each other.
“I can’t believe she ever put up with you!” Remus slammed his fist into Barty’s ribcage.
“Why so jealous?” Barty taunted, yanking Remus’s ear. “Guess having her in your bed doesn’t make her yours, now does it?”
“Just because you can’t get a girl.” Remus threw his hand against Barty’s face, slamming his head against the ground.
“Better to be alone than overcompensating.” Barty spat blood, grinning up at Remus. “Everyone knows you wanted the other twin first.”
Remus’s fist slammed into Barty’s nose, knocking the boy between the stone and his hand until his eyes flicked shut. Panting, he ripped himself from atop the boy as though burned. Shuddering as the words settled inside him like a bitter pill.
“Should we… take him to the Hospital Wing?” Remus spun with horror at Peter’s voice. His face flushed as the boy looked at him warily, an awkward frown pulling at his brow.
“Yeah.” Remus sighed, scooping the unconscious boy up - balancing him between the pair of Marauders, arms interlocked.
“Don’t tell Ara, yeah?” Remus glanced Pete’s way with guilt.
“Oh, Merlin, no.” Pete shuddered. “She’s the type to believe in killing the messenger.”
——
Ara found her closest friend in a familiar spot.
Hidden between the greenhouses and the boathouse - amongst the wildflowers in the meadows.
Their spot.
Pandora was sat, cross legged on the grass. Picking at the little flowers as she twisted them into a crown. She did not look up as the other girl approached - face downturned. Ara slipped down beside her; itching for a cigarette, though she kept the pack in her pocket. It didn’t seem like the moment to smoke.
“Panda?” Ara spoke softly; a furrow to her brow as Pandora finally glanced up at her. Her tan skin was blotchy; her eyes red-rimmed and teary as she sighed.
“Barty has fallen.” Pandora announced; voice bitter and weary. “It’s my fault, in part, for I deprived him of you.”
“You wanted me to be safer.” Ara tried to reassure, reaching for Pandora’s hand.
“I wanted you to myself.” Her friend confessed, holding onto Ara’s fingers. “But with each year, you tie yourself to more and more. I miss us.”
“I’m so sorry, Panda.” Ara squeezed her hand, holding it between her palms. “I’ve been so caught up with the OWLs and Lily and everything with Remus recently. I hope you know that I’m always here for you.” Her eyes found Pandora’s - an imploring guilt to the silvery grey.
“Do you think that I’ve forgotten our promise?” Pandora shook her head lightly, smiling with ease at her friend. “Before there were Wildflowers or Marauders; there was us.” She pulled Ara’s arm toward hers, her unclasped hand moving to pull at their sleeves. Their bracelets sat stark against bare skin. Ara’s oceanic blend bright against the scarred flesh of her wrist. Pandora’s sunset creation complimenting her olive complexion. The colouring matching that of the other so eerily. The blue of Pandora’s eyes woven around Ara; the indigo of her hair around Pandora. “No matter how far we stray, our veins are intertwined; our brains cut from the preternatural cloth. You are the only person who has ever understood me in completion. Yet you assume I cannot do the same for you.”
“I fear rejection more than I understand others.” Ara’s lips contorted into something that resembled both a frown and a smile. Her eyes crinkled but dimmed. It was an expression only few could read. She could scarcely look herself in the mirror on a good day. The attention from boys and the compliments regarding her Muggle fashions; it simply did not fix what she believed to be fundamentally broken within her. She was deeply scarred within, and afraid of seeing it in her eyes - every single day. How could anyone love someone like that?
How long would Remus put up with it, before he too found someone else?
“I love you, Ottie.” Pandora stated with surety. “I love you down to the quirks and battle scars. You are the North to my compass, the spindle that holds my craft.”
“I love you too, Panda.” Ara sniffled, blinking tears down her rosy cheeks. “You understand the world in the same way I do. That isn’t black or white or grey; it’s an entire spectrum of colours that we barely understand. For all the connections I share through blood or bonds, you are the first one that I wholeheartedly chose. I saw you at that sorting and I felt it in my blood.”
“That we were simply destined-”
“To be friends.” They shared a warm smile. “Exactly. I promise to trust you more, because I really do. And I still promise to make more time for you.”
“There is so very much time for that. Care for yourself first.” Pandora soothed. “There is a cloud coming your way, and I can only spy it’s shadow over you.”
“I know.” Ara shivered, eyes dark as she smiled wearily. “I can feel it too.”