So Big, So Small

Just as Dirk snorted in agreement, Gilderoy paused in his spell and Dirk hastily covered up the noise with a fake coughing fit and hoped it would stop their dormmate from realising they had been talking behind his back. He pulled himself into a sitting position to better glare at Gilderoy when the noise started up again. If he could hear himself think, he might have taken the opportunity of waking early to get in some extra studying but as it was he didn’t even attempt to reach for a book. “Don’t say anything about it, now. He’ll only be insufferable if we admit that was better.”

He mumbled something incoherent and disgruntled in response to Gilderoy’s greeting and sighed in a mixture of relief, tiredness and pent-up annoyance when he left the dorm. “No, I’m up, too. Better to get an early start on the day than lie here annoyed that I can’t go back to sleep.” He leaned over the side of the bed to grab his school bag and check that he had the right books with him for his morning classes.

Even with Gilderoy gone, Barty spent half a minute glaring at the canopy of his four-poster bed. He weighed his options carefully. Was it better for Gilderoy to hog the sink, possibly dooming them with the constant possibility of being late, or for Gilderoy to do his daily routine earlier, dooming them to a fate of never being late? This was what people meant when they say you’re caught between a rock and a hard place, Barty thought. “I’ll have my mum buy some earmuffs we can enchant,” he finally decided. “I’ll get you one too,” he promised.

Barty shifted on his side too, to face his fellow Ravenclaw. “I don’t know... I’ve already adjusted my routine to account for the time we usually spend waiting for Gilderoy to finish preparing.” He shifted so that he could look at his watch that he wears, even in bed. “That’s still a bloody lot of time.”

Dirk never closed the curtains around his bed to sleep. What had started as a fear of the dark and… well, probably was still as such, because he had never forced himself to try and sleep in complete darkness. His room at home had a streetlamp directly outside and there, too, he kept the curtains open and at Hogwarts there was the enchanted fireplace in the middle of the dormitory, keeping the tower rooms warm and offering a glow of light for anybody who might need to get up during the night. The downside was he was easily awoken when others started moving about, nothing to muffle the sounds of their early morning routines, and nothing to protect him from the sudden suspicion somebody had left a window open and it was raging a gale outside. He muttered Spanish curse-words into his pillow before rolling over, intending to get up and close the window except of course that wasn’t the issue. He exchanged a look of exasperation with Barty and agreed, “This is ridiculous,” matching his dormmate’s German and sure they couldn’t be heard over the sounds of Gilderoy’s hair-drying charm. “I guess at least he won’t be hogging the sink today?” He tried to find the silver lining in this but it was hard to not still sound discontented when he had been woken so abruptly.

Barty stared at Dirk while he sucked at tooth. He didn’t know if he should smile at his friend’s weak attempt to downplay the scenario. “I think I’d prefer waiting for my turn the sink over this.”  For a second, the howling stopped. Barty was about to thank Merlin and throw himself back unto his bed when Gilderoy started to blow his hair once again. Barty looked over and saw that he was now trying to dry the other side of his head. “At this point, he’s making me regret every time I complained about him hogging the sink.” Barty continued in German. He said it more to himself but it was loud enough for Dirk to hear.

After a minute of continuous blowing, Gilderoy finally dropped his wand and turned to see his roommates fully awake. “Good morning, mates!” he chirped, oblivious to their glares, before finally leaving the room. “Glad that’s over,” Barty told Dirk in English, now that Gilderoy was away. While he still felt as if he was robbed from his sleep, his head no longer felt heavy and he doubted that he’ll be able to force himself to sleep once more without missing his first class. “Well, I’m up, thanks to that git. You going back to sleep?”

Barty woke up to the sound of howling wind roaring inside their dormitory. He rose from his weighted blanket to figure what the bloody fuck was going on. Grumbling from his surrounding beds told him that it wasn’t just him woken up earlier than he planned to. Barty looked at the opposite side of the room and found Gilderoy, conjuring winds from the bloody Himalayas to blow-dry his hair. Bloody hell. His groggy throat produced a growl. He considered throwing his pillow but that was such a bloody huge effort for so early in the morning. Knowing that he won’t be able to get some sleep after being disturbed, Barty reluctantly rose into a sitting position before dragging his legs down the side of the bed.  His eyes met Dirk’s who was also stirred awake. “He’s such a fucking peacock,” Barty grumbled low in German. It was always easier to curse outside of your mother tongue. Even if he spoke in another language, he made sure to keep his voice low. Gilderoy had a special talent of always being aware when someone is talking about him. 

The horrid weekend before Valentine’s was creeping in and Barty had no reason to be excited. In fact, he dreaded. No doubt, his peers would drown themselves with the festivities without even knowing the history behind what evolved to be a very vapid holiday. Hallways would be clogged with couples, strolling as if they were at the beach. The Gret Hall will be filled with incessant chatter about anonymous love letters or gifts. The sad thing is, Barty can’t even escape to his own dorm room. Gilderoy’s peacocking and pathetic attempts to hide the fact that he was writing to himself was far too distracting. And so Barty gathered all of his parchments, quills, and ink bottles and decided to camp out in the Library.

In no time at all, Barty has set all of his paraphernalia down on the table and started revising for an upcoming quiz. Unfortunately for him, an hour hasn’t even passed when someone sat on the table opposite of him and decided to start chatting with their seatmate away. At first, Barty tried to ignore it. He simply prayed that the librarian would hear the commotion and put a stop to her yabbering. When his prayers were left unanswered, Barty stood up from his chair and ambled towards the loud person. 

“Excuse me,” Barty flashed her a convincingly genuine smile. The Ravenclaw has learned early in life that charm can go along way. “Jorkins. Hi. Would you mind toning it down a little bit? I was hoping to get some studying done, you see,” he gestured towards his table. 

House: Ravenclaw Age: 20 Born: October 25, 1957 Blood-status: Pure-Blood Zodiac Sign: Scorpio Year: 6th Sexuality: Bisexual Relationship Status: Single

FAMILY:

Father: Bartemius Crouch Sr., Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Mother: Marcia Crouch 

HISTORY:

- His father ruled the household with an iron fist. It was foolish to believe that he was any less strict at home when he made it his business to strike fear in the hearts of Dark Wizards everywhere with his merciless rules. He was an authoritarian who didn’t forgive mistakes. He wouldn’t even hesitate lightly hexing the young Barty Jr. whenever he’d drop a plate or showed the slightest hint of disrespect to his elders. Barty Sr. was never home, but somehow, he would always know if Barty got into trouble. And Barty would have had to endure twice the punishments as a child if it weren’t for his mother who would often talk to Barty Sr., insisting that the child had already learned his lesson. 

- Growing up in the Crouch household, Barty was cut off from his peers. While his mother doted on him, young Barty yearned for someone to play with. But he had no siblings nor friends. His father would only ever bring his colleagues home without their own children and even then, the door to the house parlor will be shut and locked, keeping the young boy outside. Barty only had Winky, their loyal house-elf who would look after the young Crouch and stay with him to pass the time, amusing him with her magic.

-  As a young boy, Barty spent more time with his tutors than his actual parents. Especially during the ages of 11 and 13. He had one for Potions, for Charms and Transfigurations. He also had one who simply taught him new languages, in hopes to mold him into a polyglot like his father. 

HOGWARTS YEARS (1971 - 1978):

- By the time he entered Hogwarts, he was far ahead compared to his fellow first years. In fact, Barty’s knowledge could rival that of a usual second year’s. He already knew how to brew potions and cast the simplest of spells. He breezed through the first year, causing him to look down on the others, preventing him to make fast friends from any of them. 

- When Dirk was made the fifth-year prefect instead of him, Barty was conflicted. On the one hand, he was happy for his friend. Barty did believe that he deserved it and he would rather let Dirk have it than the other idiots whom he shared the dormitory with. However, he knew that it would earn his father’s disapproval, having been prefect and Head Boy himself when he was in Hogwarts. When no badge arrived over the break before the term started, his father refused to even look at him during the rare times that he was at home. Over winter, he could count the words his father spoke to him on one hand. 

- In his fifth year, Barty received an outstanding 12 O.W.L.S. Part of it was done out of contempt, a slap in his father’s face to show him that he didn’t need to be a bloody prefect to be exemplary but deep down inside, he also knew that he worked hard on achieving those marks to please his father. He hated himself for even trying.

- It started out as a mere indulgence of curiosity. Then, as an act of rebellion. To learn about the Dark Arts and to align himself with Dark Wizards whom his father hated so much. But as Barty learned more about the Dark Lord, about his origin, having vermin for a father, and his rise to power, Barty was bewitched. He saw himself in the Dark Lord, aspiring to take power as he did. To take control as Lord Voldemort did. 

IN THE FUTURE (1978 -):

- When the Dark Lord fell, Barty couldn’t believe it. In his mind, he had created Lord Voldemort into an idol delivered by fate to strike down the likes of his father. While the rest of his followers scattered from the light like the cockroaches they are, he followed the lead of the Lestranges in search of the Dark Lord, the only ones who remained faithful. 

- That night that the Longbottoms were tortured and driven insane, no one really knew outside the four Death Eaters knew whether Barty was truly innocent or not. In truth, Barty didn’t raise his wand towards the Longbottoms that night. He only wanted to know the truth. So he simply stood by the door and watched in horror as the Lestranges used the Cruciatus Curse first on Frank. Then on Alice.

- The ravings of the boy during the trial had been the truth. He didn’t do it. Barty Crouch Jr. cried himself every night during his first week, begging and crying out for his mother. He eventually stopped as the dementors took hold of him. Barty tried to keep his sanity by dreaming of his revenge. On the person who bested the Dark Lord, whom he believed would have treated him like the family he wanted and needed. And most importantly, on his heartless and ruthless father.

- Spending a year in Azkaban was enough to make wizards mad. He was barely at his wit's end with both his mental and physical health declining when his mother concocted a plan to escape him out of Azkaban. His father agreeing to his wife’s plan was proof for some that Crouch Sr. did love his son after all.