Make Them Bow

“I just don’t see why this is the hill you’re destined to die on,” he said. It was a hypocritical statement and he knew it. Sirius was always getting into little squabbles. “There are lot bigger wars to fight.” He had a feeling that would be the last word and he took pride in that.

“He was much closer to you,” Sirius said, a lot more quietly now. Of course he didn’t know for sure, but based on the way he and Regulus had been before he disappeared, Sirius had a feeling his brother wouldn’t go to him first if he were still alive. It was strange Barty didn’t immediately agree. “So that’s all you wanted? To ask if I heard from my dear brother?”

“Trust me. If I’m dying on a hill, this wouldn’t be it?” That was one way to deflect the argument. Shift the focus away from his troubles so that they could examine Barty’s principles instead. “I’m not declaring war against you, mate. I’m just trying to talk to you.” The other’s last word earned him a raised brow. So does that mean Sirius thinks he’s fighting a bigger war?

“yeah, yeah. i know.”  benjy replied nonchalantly, waving barty off with his hand.  “easy for the winner to say.  i just wanted to see your face when the wanderers won.”  he was trying his hardest to sound like a real quidditch fan.  and as long as barty didn’t ask him to name more than a player or two, he was confident he could keep up his facade.  “nah, i actually meant tutshill.  some of the best out there, really.”  maybe?

he caught the scarf and put up a show when barty began to pull him in …  though it lasted all of ten seconds before he happily came in close.  “ugh, how’d i let you talk me into getting up that early on my day off?”  benjy took his end of the scarf and looped it back around barty, closing the gap between them.  “i did see a candy stand out there that looked pretty enticing,”  he told him without a trace of sincerity in his voice,  “but i think i could come up with a better way to spend the night.”

“Who told you that it’s easy for me to say? Maybe I’m just forcing myself to be a good sport and not rub it all over your face,” Barty continued to tease him. It’s not as satisfying, knowing that Benjy wasn’t as passionate about Quidditch as him — he saw through that right away. But there’s compensation in watching Benjy still continuing his charade. “Oh yeah? Name your favorite player from Tutshill. Or better yet, from your bet, Wanderers.”

Sirius didn’t hate how this conversation was going, but he did wish Barty would loosen up a little bit. He wondered if he could slip away and get something a little more put in Barty’s drink so he’d be more amicable. He never had to worry about money, so he had no idea what it would be like to have none of it. He had no idea what life would be like. “Aw, lighten up, Crouch,” he said. “You’re so serious and not in the good way.”

He and Barty had never been as close as Barty and Regulus were, especially more recently. But especially with Reg gone, Sirius wanted to believe in Barty. He wanted to trust him. He didn’t need to ask what Barty meant. He didn’t have to clarify. Sirius knew exactly what he meant. He wasn’t surprised, but it also set a pit in his stomach. “Don’t you think you’d have been the first I told?” he spat. He paused, looking at the expression in Barty’s eyes too. He was probably hurting too. Maybe more than Sirius in some ways. “Nothing,” he said. “And they all just assumed he was dead. Like it was nothing.” He sighed. “He’d go to you first I think. I don’t think he’d come to me.”

Barty shook his head. Of course, for Sirius who never took anything seriously, Barty appears to be a downer. There’s a reason why Barty got on better with Reg and not Sirius. “I’m merely stating the facts here, Black,” he tried, but he was already faltering. There was no point convincing someone who sees the world through childish glasses. “Would you believe me if I say that I’m only telling you so because I care about you?”

At the sight of an unfamiliar face, Edgar quickly waved his hand under the table and had the paper disappear back into his pocket. It was buried deep under the chips, after all, and he could put it back if another Order member were to appear. Still, that didn’t stop his heart from pounding in his chest, fearful that the other person might have seen. He didn’t know this man, but a part of him was worried that wasn’t a good thing. Then again, that was the trouble. 

“Oi, don’t insult the Leaky like that,” he teased, taking a chip and popping it into his mouth. At the other man’s question, he wiped his hand on the nearest napkin and held it out for him. “And I don’t know you. Edgar Bones, brother to Amelia Bones, the more interesting and accomplished one.” He was teasing, but there was pride in his voice; pride in his sister for doing what she’d always wanted to do with her life. He knew it was silly, maybe, but he was so glad that his sister was there; doing the best for people who might not be able to do anything for themselves.

Taking in the other’s attire, he raised a brow. “I don’t know who you are but with a suit like that you must work for someone important,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve only seen fabric that expensive the one time my husband took me to the opera. He bought me the whole nine yards, but the show was a piece of shit. I fell asleep halfway through.” It was strange, really talking about his husband as if it were present tense. The ache formed again, but Edgar leaned forward, grinning. “Please tell me you do not work for the secret Operatic division of the Ministry.”

.

“I’m not insulting the Leaky.” Barty held his hands up defensively. “If anything, it sounds like you’re the one insulting The Leaky Cauldron. But like I said. Your secret is safe with me.” He smiled almost conspiratorially. Even though Barty can appear snobbish at times, but he does like to build rapport with people. Especially those who seem like they might be important. And when he introduced himself, Barty’s suspicions proved to be right. “Ah. Mr. Bones, I didn’t know you work here as well.” That was what made him sit down. “I’m Barty Crouch Jr,” he said. Barty didn’t feel the need to mention his father. The one Amelia replaced.

Barty smiled, glad that his clothes were noticed. Clothes do make the man. It was just one of the lessons ingrained with him since birth. Even Barty had to admit that it wasn’t a shitty one. “Well, I am one of the Junior Assistants for the Minister. I had to look the part.” An eyebrow quirked up at the mention of the man’s husband. “It sounds like your husband has quite the taste. But then again, you did end up not enjoying the show.” Barty shook his head with a smile on his face. “Fortunately, such thing doesn’t exist.”

A laugh followed his words, mostly because he didn’t know, really, what they had been through. Who they were. He knew her, though. That much was for certain, and she grinned at him with a small smile on her lips. “I would like to, only because it makes us sound much more interesting than we actually are,” she teased. Truth be told, she was just meant to be with James. They fit, like puzzle pieces. Always had, if she were being honest with herself. “Oh blimey, it’s been four years? Five years. I mean Harry will be three in July so.”

It was nice to know they could be adults about the situation, although Lily wasn’t certain that Barty had moved on. Or, at least hadn’t found someone else. Lily didn’t think he was still hung up on her, or at least that wasn’t the impression he was giving off. “I’m glad you’re doing well, though,” she added, nodding at him. “And we’ll get to work on those signs. They could be very important, you never know.” 

Lily was kidding, but then again, with the way the Ministry worked they might actually move it to the top of their list. Something they could fix; something not that important, but that could be done now, today. She understood that mentality, sometimes. “Well, you’re here, after all. That counts for something, even if you don’t know where you’re going next.” In her mind, it was a lot. “And the Minister? It must be so interesting…” Lily didn’t want to add especially after the Veela article, because frankly, she didn’t care if Millicent was a Veela. She did care about her current shift in politics, though.  

“I doubt you lot needs to be any more interesting than you already are.”  Somewhere, deep inside of him, Barty was happy for Lily. They left each other worse than when they began. And despite Lily’s claims about his intentions, Barty did care for her. But... bitterness also began to bubble inside of him. Here she was pretending as if the world condemning two lovers to be together was just some quirky thing she could do to colour her relationship in the eyes of others. Barty and Benjy on the other hand? It could lead to disastrous consequences if the other Death Eaters ever find out. Barty continued to smile as if those thoughts weren’t present on his mind. His eyes widened. “Wow. I didn’t even realize it was that long. Your boy seems to be growing up quickly.”

“Thank you. And you too! I’m glad that you seem to be doing well. Dare I even say, you look positively glowing.” Barty wasn’t really flirting, but it was a brief reminder of how they used to be. “Mhm. I’m already drafting the request in my head.”

Artemis shook her head, still trying to work out if he somehow knew why the Ministry might have a vested interest in her or if he really did think random civilians just knew their way around the government building somehow. Which was ridiculous, if so. “I honestly didn’t see too much of it, so I couldn’t say. A little place along Horizont Alley,” she replied smoothly. If he cared to investigate further, she would answer but she knew all too well that the majority of clients to the spa came from the Ministry and it would be harder to avoid judgment for her job here. She had already battled with that in the Auror interview and had no desire to do so again so soon. “We were given a specific Floo address to go to and one of the interns met us there but as I say they weren’t there when I came out of the Aurors’ Office. I’d prefer not to leave by Floo, anyway.” That would mean going back to work, even though she had finished, or going to the Leaky Cauldron, when it would be a lot easier just to walk out of the building into Muggle London to make her way home. If only she knew where the exit into Muggle London might be. “Oh… I see. Is she really a Veela?”

Melaina watched him over the top of the book as he inspected the cauldrons and found herself both satisfied and appeased by how he handled it. While it wouldn’t be too terrible a prospect to replace any broken equipment, it wouldn’t be insignificant in even the Nott family finances, particularly if they were to meet Melaina’s high standards of quality. She also saw a high correlation between taking care of potions equipment and having the right level of care and precision when brewing potions. She hadn’t been certain about undertaking this as a group project, particularly one with someone younger than her, someone Melaina wasn’t sure if she trusted considering his father, but his actions reassured her that he was taking this seriously at the very least. “Please,” she said. He had proven himself to be able to do that.

“I see.” There, she supposed, was the proof that she was right not to trust him. Polyjuice was hardly the sort of potion a respectable person would find useful and she was loathe to think about what someone like Crouch might use it for, or who he might be impersonating. She had been asked to brew it with him, however, and she had no plans to question why it needed brewing. As with anything she was asked to do, she planned to do it with the upmost professionalism and perfection. “Have you stewed the lacewing flies?” she asked, moving onto business as she considered the jar he had brought with him. 

Melaina didn’t frown when Barty handled the cauldron so he figured he must have done something right. Anyone who has an affinity for potions knows how to handle their equipment with respect. And he knows that they don’t allow just anyone to handle their cauldron. Barty placed the cauldron they planned on using on the center table as if it was his own.

It was funny how others had noticed how she and James were meant to be long before she’d realized it. Frankly, she’d been naive, because James had so quickly become her best friend that it felt like she’d missed out on all those years. “Some would call us starcrossed,” she teased, managing a small smile. “I just think he’s my best friend, truly, and I didn’t realize it quickly enough.”

The words were like a small apology, but Lily kept going, following him as they began to walk toward the elevator. His question startled her though, and she shrugged a bit. “I wasn’t certain you’d really want to see me,” she admitted, raising a brow. “I mean, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” And she had other people she knew better that worked here. “Signs would be helpful. D’you think we could recommend that?”

A nod followed his words and then a grin formed at his mention of his work. “Barty Crouch! That’s bloody amazing,” she said, laughing a bit. “Truly. Look at you.” A part of her was proud of him, since that had been what he’d wanted in a way when they were dating.

Barty snorted at Lily’s description of her and James. As someone who didn’t witness what they had to go through to get together, he thought it was quite the stretch. “Sure didn’t seem like it. You antagonized him, sure. But I won’t precisely call you guys starcrossed.” Lily was muggleborn but as far as he knew, the Potters never had an issue with it. “I say you guys had it pretty easy. Haven’t you guys been together for quite a while now?”

He let that admission hang in the air before continuing. He obviously felt the same way. “Well, I guess you don’t have a lot of reasons to want to see me either. But you’re right. It’s been a while. And clearly, both of us have moved on.” Lily had James. And Barty? Barty has Benjy, even if the world didn’t know it yet. “I’ll make sure to write it up. But I’m afraid that would be the least of their concerns at the moment.”

If anyone asked, Edgar was here for the cafeteria. The more obvious answer would be Moody, of course, but he felt like that was too obvious. As if the Death Eaters would know exactly why he was really here, and what lay in his chips basket. Besides, he saw more Order members in the cafeteria, and the food was decent. The house elves reminded him of Hogwarts’ food, in many ways, and there was no debating the overall superiority of Hogwarts’ house elves. They were cooks, truthfully, and Edgar wished that they got the freedom they deserved. Maybe this war could bring some relief for them, as well, he hoped. Maybe this war would start something new.

Of course, with Millicent’s recent expose, things had not been going quite to plan. She seemed to be pulling away from the Order, more into the hands of the Death Eaters, and Edgar couldn’t help but wonder why. There was some legislation on the floor at the moment that was cause for concern, but for now, he was here to be a warning for another attack. He looked up at the person who approached his table and grinned, “Would you like a chip, mate?” he asked, pushing the basket forward. “Best in London, if y’ask me. But don’t tell the Leaky I said that… I quite like their pot pies and don’t want to get their britches all in a bunch over the fact their crisps aren’t good.”

Barty Crouch Jr never has his lunch in the cafeteria. But not for the same reason his father could never be found there as well. The older Crouch didn’t visit the cafeteria because he has always had his own office. Eating somewhere so public and so pedestrian was unthinkable for Crouch Sr who saw himself above the masses. He’ll eat what his wife prepared for him within the confines of his own office, thank you very much. 

The reason why Barty Jr doesn’t visit the cafeteria was quite the opposite of his father’s privilege. He simply never has the time. He has breaks, sure, but there was always too much work to be done that he generally prefers working breaks. He’ll have his meal or snack right beside his table within reach for a quick snack.

The only reason he was there today was the Minister’s specific instruction to accost someone for a file she needed, no matter where the person was. Barty didn’t plan to be so rude. He’ll tell them the Minister’s demands sure, but he won’t accompany them all the way back to their office like some child who might meander find themselves lost. Instead, he’ll just wait for them in the cafeteria so that he could return with the file in hand.

Unfortunately for him, the person he sat with was a chatterbox. Barty didn’t want to say yes but his stomach grumbled in reply. “I suppose I can have a bite. And I’m not telling anyone. Pretty sure I’ll forget a stranger’s comment about chips from Leaky within a week.” Barty paused as he studied the older man’s face. “I don’t know you, do I?”

Sirius and Barty were different, even if they came from similar backgrounds. The Sacred 28 was an entirely different upbringing, one that set them apart even before Sirius threw it all away. Those families acted like nothing could touch them, and now, Sirius moved through life feeling a similar way.

“I’m not worried yet, so you shouldn’t be either,” he said with a grin. “James and I will figure it out together.” It added to his arrogance sometimes, that he and James had been raised Pureblood and both got out in a way. Nothing could touch either of them. “I don’t see why not. Feelings are stronger to me than theory.”

He laughed. “I guess I do have a lot of practise shining trophies from all those detentions.” He stopped laughing and the atmosphere turned a little more serious. “So why am I really here? I know we don’t want to just talk about luck and jobs.”

Barty shook his head again in disapproval. But there was no hint of it being stern. He simply looked like a friend who was both disappointed and fond of a friend’s actions. Although, Barty couldn’t really call them friends. He blames the alcohol for making him react so. “Ah. Of course. Potter’s family is also quite rich, aren’t they? Guess it makes sense that you’ll stick with him.” Barty took another swig before giving Sirius a disbelieving look. “If only feelings bring food to the table.”

Amelia’s relationship with Minister Bagnold had been non-existent before taking the promotion. Since then, it could only be described as complicated. But that was a given, wasn’t it? Millicent was the queen and she was the general in a civil war they weren’t winning. Not losing, not yet, but not winning. The veela reveal hadn’t mucked it up any more than that.

Frankly, Amelia considered it none of her business, and she was acting like it. The report in her hand was the same she delivered every month. Same day, same time, the same rehearsed lines on the tip of her tongue. Yet, upon arriving at the Minister’s office, Bagnold wasn’t in.

A frustrated sigh escaped her parted lips, eyes flicking around the room. A familiar face caught her gaze. Half a second after the idea popped into her head, she intercepted him, intentionally ignoring the stern expression Barty wore. “Got a report for you boss, but she’s not in,” Amelia said, producing the cream-colored file from under her arm.

On the outside, Minister Bagnold can’t look too bothered with the recent allegations that came out against her. She’s not the first Minister to receive slander during her term and she wouldn’t be the last. To be thought of as a veela isn’t one of the worst things in the world, she even joked once.

But behind closed doors... Boy, was it one gigantic clusterfuck. Did that mean they couldn’t return to business as usual? No, of course not. In fact, there’ll be a fire under their asses if Bagnold catches them doing anything other than their job. 

“My first time… at the Ministry?” She clarified, a little confused by the question. “Yes, of course.” Did he think she was often hauled in for questioning or as a witness to incidents? Or, perhaps, he could somehow tell that she was someone who really should make her way to the Werewolf Registry Office and sort out the fact that on their records she was supposedly dead. She had no plans to do that, however. She just wanted to get out of there and really thought that alone should make it obvious that she didn’t know where she was going. “There was a fight at my place of work. The DMLE wanted to interview all of us. But there was someone with us before and when I finished they just said I could go home and there wasn’t anyone to show me the way out. My colleague was still talking to them…” She glanced around, trying to see if anything about this corridor was familiar but unfortunately she couldn’t say that it was. “Are you an Auror? Or… training? You look very young to be an Auror.”

The reminder of the past was enough to send a soft smile on her face. Lily was proud of her family name, but she was even prouder to be a Potter. James was the family she had gotten to choose, and truthfully, she couldn’t have chosen better. “Oh, yes, right,” she said with a laugh. “Almost three years now, if you can imagine it.” It was strange how time had passed seemingly so quickly but also not at all. 

Barty looked the same, really, and his straightforwardness was appreciated. “I don’t mean to take up too much of your time,” she said, shaking her head. “You were just the only familiar face around here and –” Lily paused when he agreed to help, and she smiled, gratefully. “Thank you. I swear. I’d lose my head in this place. I don’t know how you lot do it.” Then again, she was always far more comfortable in the outdoors. 

A snort followed his words and she followed him. “Of course I did,” she said, looking around her. “Where… where are we then? What is it you do?”

Lily confirmed it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course, she would think so. It’s been her reality for three years already just as she said. “I actually can. You two seemed...” Barty mulled over the word he should use. “Bound to happen. I suppose that’s one way to put it.” Barty thought that there’s no harm in saying it. If he weren’t supposed to, he’s sure that Lily would al him out on it.

Barty nodded but kept looking forward. “We’ll be quick. I promise.” He said to assure both of them. “Would you ask someone else if there was another? Another familiar face, I mean.” Through the busy hallway, Barty led her to the elevator. Now they just needed to wait for one going up. “It’s confusing for everyone during their first few visits. Still, it wouldn’t hurt if they added more signs everywhere.”

“The more obvious, the less questionable,” Melaina responded easily. “It would be much stranger for somebody to find a potion brewing in a different room. That would only draw attention to it. Besides, my father might be… dealing with a situation at the moment but it has nothing to do with any illicit potions. Nobody has any cause to disrupt my potion-making. Particularly knowing that as a poisons Healer it is hardly a surprise I might have sensitive projects on the go.” At this comment she gestured towards the silver cauldron.

She went over to the ingredients cabinet and first pulled a book which contained the instructions for the Polyjuice. She had studied it so much that she may as well have memorised it by now but she’d never had cause to brew it before and was not about to risk making a mistake. “The other one,” Melaina said, indicating the cauldron that had been cleaned. “It’s sterilised already. The others I would prefer to keep for Healing potions.” She was very specific about the types of potions that went into the different cauldrons. “So… you have brewed this before?” She wasn’t going to ask when or why. That wasn’t information she wanted to know, but it was worth knowing if one of them had more expertise in this particular potion, given how tricky and volatile it could be.

Barty could understand her logic which was cut and dry. “Of course. You’re absolutely right.” He didn’t mean to infer that they should brew the potion in any other room when they already have this room with that exact purpose. Maybe Melaina wouldn’t understand. She doesn’t have to hide her cause from her family after all. Except for her nephew. In fact, if Barty’s presumptions were correct, her father might be the only reason she’s part of the Death Eaters in the first place. ”I believe you,” he said. What else was there to say?

Sirius almost felt like this was retribution for the lost years with his brother. It wouldn’t fix everything, and Sirius wasn’t even sure how much he should trust Barty either, but it was a step in the right direction. 

“I can get pretty lucky, don’t you worry,” he assured the other man. “Shite at potions though, so unless I get Lily to do it for me, I’m going to have to run on my own dumb luck.” He didn’t need to brew a bunch of potions. He didn’t see what that would do for him other than waste a lot of time. “Theory’s no fun,” he said. “The practical stuff is where it’s at. No one learned how to apparate or transfigure a ruby into a rabbit from theory alone. But with enough practice you could get it right on your own.” He shrugged. “I won’t, these are hypotheticals. I don’t really plan on working at all, to be honest. So don’t worry about me wrecking havoc in the Ministry anytime soon. You’re safe.”

Barty just shook his head. He didn’t know what to respond to that. Even though Sirius liked to pretend that he didn’t grow up where he did, that response alone proved how different they were raised. Sirius was thought to believe in luck, and why shouldn’t he? He came from a line of pureblood wizards who could have whatever they want when they want it. Even when he moved out, he had his uncle or aunt or whatever’s graces to catch him. Barty, on the other hand, was born to a pureblood family who found its place in society by latching unto the ministry. Luck, he was told, was manufactured and only given to those who were worthy. Luck means nothing if you’re not willing to get up your arse and chase the opportunities presented to you. 

“If luck doesn’t run out for you. I’m sure your galleons will,” Barty tried, but even he knew he sounded half-hearted. He didn’t know how stacked Sirius’ vault back in Gringotts was. “Maybe. But no one also learned how to apparate or transfigure to trial and error alone. You think you can just feel things out for the rest of your life?”

Artemis was nervous to be at the Ministry but an incident had happened at work with one of her colleagues and a client and she found herself there as a reluctant witness. She kept waiting for someone to turn around and say she needed to be locked away, the werewolf engaging in sex work, but somehow neither thing had come up. She was allowed to leave the office after her interview without another word but there was no staff member to accompany her back to the atrium and within minutes Artemis realised she was lost.

She allowed a few Ministry workers to pass her without asking because they all looked too intimidating but it became clear that at this rate she was never getting out of this place if she didn’t ask for directions so she vowed to approach the next person she saw. He was no more approachable than the others, except perhaps for having youth on his side, but she cleared her throat anyway. “Yes, I think I may have turned the wrong way? I’m trying to get out of here.”

Truthfully, nothing was stopping Barty from completely ignoring the lost damsel and continuing his merry way. First off, Barty Crouch Jr. memorized every single face that could possibly matter in that side of the wizarding world long before he had to work for the Ministry. And the confused face that the woman was wearing did not belong on that list. He could ignore her scot-free. But if she was someone important. Or at least, if she knew someone important... then Barty might unknowingly put himself in harm’s way by casting her aside.

Sirius wasn’t sure if losing Regulus brought him closer or more farther apart from the people he left behind. He supposed a little bit of both. He certainly saw his mum more than he may have if Regulus was still around. He felt a bit of pity for her since she no longer had her husband or her good son. Barty was a bit different. He had no familial bond and Sirius had never been as close to Barty. Barty was Reg’s friend plain and simple. But Barty knew Reg up until the end and that’s what kept Sirius wanting to see him.

“Guess I am lucky,” he said with a grin. He stretched back, feeling the alcohol take residence in his chest. He’d need a few more if he was going to be Pureblood polite. Though maybe Barty wasn’t expecting that. A lot of people had given up on their old expectations of Sirius Black at this point. “Yes, didn’t you? At school? You know, for a magic school, you’d think there’d be less sitting around and more practical learning. If I did get a job, it would have to be something where I could move. Like an auror.”

If Barty looked at Sirius long enough, he’ll start to see just how much the two looked alike. But perhaps, looks is where the two’s similarities end. Yet... Barty knew that Regulus still looked up to his brother somehow. Even if he never admits it on his own. For whatever reason. Barty had no clue why.