Barty Crouch Jr.

The same magic with more wizards. Jay nodded slightly as he thought that over. It was equal parts terrifying and relieving to know that one person probably hadn’t done all that lone, and yet there were likely more people out there with the same kind of magic, and apparently working together to make coordinated attacks. Assuming it had been them and not the Dark Lord; it was so hard to tell these days, what with the Dark Lord taking credit for just about everything that suited his purposes. Figuring out that magic was going to take some time, but figuring out the people who were using it felt like a good place to start answering both that question and the question of who had this information on Barty and what their game was. Barty’s encounter in Knockturn was all kinds of weird and suspicious, especially that bit about Barty feeling like he knew her and the fact she somehow knew about the twin. He nodded along as Barty voiced his own thoughts. It was easy to imagine someone wanting the elder Crouches dead; what didn’t make sense was why she’d come back at all after the deed was done. “Maybe she was worried you’d come looking for Bea if she didn’t come back?” He mused, though he wasn’t convinced by that idea and his voice showed it. There was something more at play here. “Or maybe you’re right and you did know her. I mean, she was most likely on polyjuice. Maybe it’s someone you’ve met and her voice or her mannerisms weren’t disguised well enough, that’s why you picked up on something. Of course that still doesn’t answer what they were after, unless….if they’ve got a grudge against you and your parents maybe she came back to try to pin it on you?” That didn’t really explain them using extra magic on the blaze, or maybe it did. Barty was an unspeakable, after all, he had access to magic many didn’t. He was glad when Barty agreed they start at Knockturn. It seemed as good a plan as any. “Great. We’ll bring their own game to them, go poke around with some polyjuice, see what we can find out.

Barty felt as unconvinced about that as Jay sounded. Even if he had gone looking there was nothing for him to go on, no place to start. Hardly seemed like something worth having dinner with Wynne to avoid.  But Barty didn’t feel the need to voice his skepticism of that. He thought over what else Jay had to say about the woman. “I dunno.  She could have pinned it on me without having to deal with Wynne for any longer. Surely wouldn’t have been hard to nudge their attention my way even though everyone thinks I was a devoted son.” He was certain he’d already been looked at as a possible suspect but equally certain that they had dismissed that idea or they’d have made their move already. With their department head murdered speed was needed for appearance. He doubted accuracy mattered more than the appearance that they were doing something. “You have to be right about me having met her, the only issue is who would have known about Bea who also knew me? So many questions.” Of course none of these problems would be solved without some kind of answers. Their only hope was Jay’s plan to start at Knockturn. He grinned when Jay said they’d bring their own game to them. “Unlucky for them it’s a game we’re rather grand at.” This was doable. Barty almost felt something like hope.  Or at least he was feeling a lot more centered than he had since he’d met Wynne. There were still massive problems, Voldemort’s mark and these mystery people, but without a distraction making him more neurotic than normal he felt like he could actually work out how to solve them. Maybe solve two problems with one answer. For now though he had one last little problem to deal with. “Should we give Wynne a burial she deserves? I know chucking her in a bin or washing her down the drain would be easier but I would enjoy chucking her into a muggle ditch somewhere dirty and smelly.” Either way it was time for Wynne to leave his flat for the last time, they had bigger problems to worry with. Something that would improve the shitty flat even before he fixed the damages she’d left.

It wasn’t a surprise to see Barty up and pacing. How many nights had they spent like this, back in their dorm at Hogwarts and then later in one of their flats, Barty pacing while Jay sat with his elbows on his knees, hands folded in front of him as both their minds buzzed with various problems and ideas. These days it wasn’t even odd how troubling those problems were, though this one was certainly up there for the strangest. “Hm.” He listened intently to Barty’s recollections about the bloke. Born wealthy; perhaps the family money came from more nefarious means than potions. With people that wealthy, that was often more likely than not. It might also explain how he apparently managed to deal with Wynne; perhaps he was used to psychos. The accent part was puzzling.  Also interesting that woman never dropped the Bea act. Whoever she was, she was good then. And she’d done her homework, which suggested she really did have Barty’s sister tied up somewhere, assuming she hadn’t killed her yet. Even more troubling was the fact that someone had actually mentioned Bea to Barty in Knockturn. That had to be her. Only before Jay could say so, the next thing Barty said pulled his attention. “Shit.” Jay looked over at Wynne’s tidy remains at the same time Barty did. That sort of power and control sure seemed to fit the bill for what happened at Borgin and Burkes, granted on a larger scale. But who was to say what the limit was on that sort of power? Especially since that was sort of what happened at the Crouch house, wasn’t it? Barty had to be right about that. “You think from what you saw tonight she could have done that?” It was equal parts fascinating and horrifying. “The woman you met in Knockturn. Was there anything that stood out about her?… Of course even if there was she was probably using polyjuice, for all we know. I’d bet it’s the same person pretending to be Bea. No way that was just a coincidence.” Of course Barty would know that, but it was helpful to think out loud. “There’s a bunch of French people who live near Knockturn, can’t remember what the place is called but one of the Minister’s trash son’s equally trashy mates lives there. Could be worth asking around about a potions shop. Even if it’s all made up maybe we’ll pick up something useful.” 

Barty had been contemplating the same thing that Jay asked. “I dunno. Maybe. It seems like a lot for one person, without a wand to make it more powerful. But there was a lot she did tonight that I don’t fully understand what I saw. I certainly think it was the same magic, maybe just more wizards involved.” A frightening thought. But also intriguing. Barty had been curious about the attack since it happened, even checking out the scene himself. A lot of unspeakables were curious. Whispers about what might have done it, but nothing that seemed to indicate anyone knew.  Of course Voldemort had acted as thought it were them, but without the Dark Lord sharing any information he had no way of knowing if that was just lying or actual truth. It was hard not to continue thinking about the magic he’d witnessed and how it might tie into an event he was already curious about but he switched and tried to remember that odd encounter. “I remember there being something about her that made me think I knew her but also being certain I didn’t. But I can’t remember any sort of features about her. Just that she approached me in the shop before I left. Claimed I looked like someone she was friends with before getting a little weird. I left when she mentioned I might have a twin but she followed me. Told me she was a friend of Bea’s then. I thought she was trying to blackmail dad. I told her to go for it. What did I care. When she said I’d see Bea again I thought she was a sear and knew I was gonna die. I didn’t want to have that conversation, as you can imagine. I told her to go sell the story to the tabloids, they’d pay. I thought that’s what she was going to do because the last thing she said was to promise that he was going to get what’s coming to him.” Barty thought about that encounter again, wondering why he couldn’t remember much about what the woman looked like. Just that odd feeling he’d known her. “I forgot all about it. Too much other shit going on. And then Bea showed up. If this woman was just after revenge against dad why did she bother coming over tonight? She’d already gotten what she wanted. Hell if I was gonna tell anyone my not-dead secret twin helped me kill our parents before disappearing again.” Aside from Jay but that went without saying. Not that Barty was complaining too much about her coming over. It had gotten rid of Wynne. Well not entirely but enough. “It’s gotta be her though.”  That was a given now it seemed. Barty curled his lip at the mention of one of the Minister’s trash sons, Jay talked about them enough that Barty knew he wouldn’t care for the oldest for certain. Doubtful the youngest either. “Since Knockturn was where I first ran into that woman seems reasonable to assume that even if they’re not running a French potion shop there, they might be somewhere around Knockturn.  Asking around sounds like a good idea to me,” Barty agreed. They had to start somewhere and most nefarious things did seem to originate around Knockturn.

“Fuck,” Jay breathed out the curse, running a hand through perfectly-style hair, mussing it up. There was no point in asking how or why she found out. Barty knew how bad this was already. She knew and he’d let her leave with that information. Granted with the sort of magic she could do, letting her leave was probably Barty’s only option. But calling this a bloody mess felt like an understatement. How careful had they been for years to keep their affiliation under wraps, to maintain their personas as good little Ministry workers, unassuming Ravenclaws? Now there was someone out there – or two someones, counting the husband – who knew Barty was a Death Eater, and they didn’t even know who those people were or what their motive was. The only good news here was that Jay hadn’t met either the squib or the husband, but that would only get him so far. If Barty was exposed, there would surely be eyes on Jay. But Jay could work with that. Distance himself from Barty if he had to. That would be a loss, but it beat both of them ending up in Azkaban. “We’ve got to figure out who they are,” he finally said. “If we can figure out who they are and what they’re after, we’ll know how worried we have to be about what they know.” But even if they didn’t care they were Death Eaters – which it sounded like they did care – this was something they could use on Barty now. Leverage for whatever it was they did want. Or maybe they’d already gotten it, since they’d left. “Or at least maybe we can find a way to neutralize them. Maybe we can dig up some dirt of our own. Or find a way to harness some of that magic…” Because if they could just get rid of the marks, a big part of this mess also went away. Either way, digging up more dirt on Barty’s fake family felt like a good place to focus. “What do you know about her or her husband, other than they work in potions?” 

Jay just nodded when Barty confirmed that there was no way for a squib to get magic. That sounded about right, and he trusted that if there was a way, Barty would have figured it out. Which meant, as he’d suspected from the beginning, that this was an imposter working an angle. It made even more sense when Barty pointed out the husband was in potions. That would be the type to know how to brew a good Polyjuice potion. Or maybe the potions thing had been the same kind of veiled, inside joke that Jay often liked to make when he was leading someone on. Say you’re in potions when really you’re on potions. Either way they apparently had some good stuff. The question was, as Barty pointed out, what was the motive? He listened thoughtfully as Barty spoke, brows pulling together at something Barty said but Jay let the other speak without interrupting, flagging that concerning bit for later. For now he just listening with growing curiosity as Barty explained the magic he’d witnessed. It wasn’t like anything Jay had ever heard of – except in rumors throughout the Ministry, every once in a while, only when he was in places that required a high security clearance. This sounded like even more than that, though. Burning up Wynne’s wand before turning her into that tidy pile of ash. Whoever was pretending to be Barty’s sister apparently had style. Jay let out a breath when Barty was finished and tugged at his tie, loosening it from the perfect knot it had been in all day at the Ministry. “This is huge,” he finally said. “With that kind of magic…” With that kind of magic they could get away from the Dark Lord, surely. Maybe even get the kind of power they’d joined up hoping for in the first place. Only whoever was pretending to be Barty’s twin had apparently left with no plans of returning, if Barty’s impression was correct. And there was that other, nagging worry Jay had put on hold. Now he fixed Barty with a serious look. “Her Death Eater twin,” he said quietly, repeating back to Barty the words he’d flagged earlier. “You called yourself her Death Eater twin.” Jay paused, almost afraid to ask, but he needed to know what they were dealing with. “Does she know?” 

Barty had too many things running around his head. It was maddening. Too many unanswered questions that only led to more questions. He wasn’t even sure where he wanted to focus. Bea? If she was an impostor or actually Bea. Or her magic, which he’d never seen anything like even in the Unspeakable’s department. There was something nagging him about her magic, he hadn’t worked out what, too much noise around everything. Barty looked over at Jay as the other spoke, his mind supplying the finished sentence. He hadn’t even gotten there yet but with magic that powerful there surely was more to be done than burn things. Or maybe they could burn off the marks, like Bea had burned Wynne’s wand. Jay speaking up again, changing course this time, had him focusing on something else. There was no question of not telling Jay the truth. Anyone else Barty might have lied or stumbled over excuses. Or even tried to minimize the damage this was. But Barty didn’t do that with Jay. And if anyone could worm their way out of being implicated if Barty ended up being it was Jay. But being prepared would make it a lot easier for him to avoid being caught up with Barty. Without hesitation he nodded, grim faced once again. “She knows.” Barty sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “It’s all a bloody mess.” An understatement to be certain. He didn’t even have anything on her, the magic thing was something but without an explanation there was nothing really. Barty waited to see what Jay’s reaction would be. This felt like added reason to find a way to rid themselves of the mark. Shame Bea had washed her hands of him, might have been able to get her to do it for them. Now that he knew she had the magic to do it that was.

Jay smirked when Barty said Wynne was no more pleasant muted than unmuted; that sounded about right for her. It was about time Barty offed her, really, though Jay also couldn’t entirely blame the other for taking so long to get to it. Wynne was a mental case, but she was the sort of mental case that was dangerous and good at curses. It was a surprise to hear Barty say he couldn’t take credit for Wynne’s death, though Jay’s mind immediately jumped to the likely conclusion there. Wynne had gone mental, attacked Barty’s sister, and the husband intervened. Or…it was Bea? Jay opened his mouth to respond but closed it when Barty acknowledge right away how mental that sounded. Instead he just listened with raised eyebrows. The imposter thing was sounding more likely now. But…wandless magic had done this? Wandless magic had blinded Wynne and killed her in a contained fire. Jay looked from Barty to the pile of ash, stepping closer to examine the scorch marks. Contained was right, especially since apparently the rest of the damage had been done by Wynne. “It’s got to be an imposter,” he said, looking back at Barty. “I mean, squibs don’t just get magic, do they?” Barty would know better, he’d always been trying experiments with the weird caretaker, not that Jay had realized what all that was about until he’d found out about Bea just about a week ago. But Jay was quite certain squibs didn’t just wake up with magic. Least of all wandless magic that could do what Barty was claiming he saw.  “Polyjuice, you think? Maybe whoever it is has got the real Bea tied up somewhere and that’s how their story makes sense.” An idea Jay had already pitched, but now that Barty was actually doubting the girl more instead of jumping for joy over some twin Jay hadn’t known existed, it felt worth repeating. “She didn’t explain herself?” He added. “Did she run?” That felt more damning than anything that it wasn’t actually Barty’s squib twin; she’d used magic to defend herself, realized her mistake, and fled, maybe. 

Jay was right, it had to be an imposter. There really was no other explanation. “No, I’ve spent most of my life trying to figure that problem out and so far I can’t even find a reason some end up squibs let alone how to change it.” It wasn’t cocky to think he’d know, it was just fact. Barty knew his intelligence and how many hours of study and experimentation he’d devoted to the problem. If there was a solution he’d have come across it by now. The problem was though that he couldn’t pin a purpose to why someone would pretend to be Bea. It was also a bit grim to think she was tied up in someone’s basement or dungeons. “The husband is in potions so polyjuice isn’t far fetched.” He had discovered his own talent for mimicry with the help of polyjuice, others might be similarly talented. “But it still doesn’t make sense in terms of why? They’re not getting any money, claimed they didn’t want any. Certainly not happening now.” He could imagine someone might want his father dead bad enough to go through a plan like this but why participate in said murder? It just didn’t add up to Barty. “No explanation. No running. In fact when she left it was the most Crouch like Bea’s ever looked. Imposter or not she didn’t take too well to almost being killed by the Death Eater girlfriend of her Death Eater twin.” He looked more grim than sad about this. Barty had thought it was for the best but if this person had Bea tied up somewhere maybe it wasn’t. “Or rather Death Eater stalker, which I suppose Bea, or whoever she is, was right about that part.” Wynne was more stalker than anything, other than unhinged, she was completely unhinged. “I don’t know what the reason to pretend to be Bea was but she’s determined that this was all too much trouble, apparently. That or she couldn’t come up with a lie to cover what I’d seen. It was bloody terrific. Terrifying but terrific. She toyed with Wynne, sort of the way Wynne toyed with her kills but better. Burnt her wand up first, right in Wynne’s hand. Hell of a way to kill someone, nothing to trace to even tell this is Wynne.” Barty just realized something as soon as he thought again about the fire that killed Wynne. “Bloody hell, she must have done her magic on the fire at my parents’s. No wonder nothing was left.” He looked back over at the pile of ash that had been Wynne again. It was absolutely maddening not knowing what the truth was about Bea. Barty hoped that if she was tied up somewhere that they either still had her, grim as that was, or they’d let her go. He really didn’t want to think of Bea as a pile of ash somewhere.

Jay smirked and quirked an eyebrow when Barty said Wynne was repeatedly bested by the squip. He wasn’t sure in what way, though he could certainly see how the night had ended in a body to be disposed of if a squib was showing Wynne up in any way. Apparently by Bea’s husband not going for her and Barty letting her know about the inheritance. Jay’s surprise was clear on his face, as was his amusement when Barty said he muted her. “Muted her, eh? About time someone did,” he remarked, though he was hoping there’d been a more permanent silencing of that one by the end of what sounded like a very eventful dinner party. He looked in the direction Barty nodded at the pile of ash among scorch marks. Had there been furniture there before? No – Wynne’s plan hadn’t succeeded. Jay understood in an instant and let out a laugh. “Mixed success? I’d say this was the best possible outcome.” They’d decided ages ago that killing Wynne was going to be Barty’s only way to get rid of her, and it wasn’t like her death was any sort of loss to world. If anything Barty had done society a favor. At least the muggles and squibs of the world. Speaking of which. Jay glanced over at Barty, his smile falling a touch. “She attacked your sister.” That felt less like a question than a given. “Was Bea still here when you killed her?” That would explain why Barty didn’t look like he’d been celebrating when Jay showed up. 

Barty chuckled despite everything when Jay echoed his thoughts on Wynne being muted. “Unsurprisingly she wasn’t that much more pleasant muted.” The quiet had been nice but Wynne had still managed to be completely unpleasant. Proof that anything remotely pleasant about her had been lies. Which made Jay’s comment about it being the best possible outcome even more accurate. Though Barty would have liked a lot less mayhem getting to that outcome. Barty doubted anyone was going to mourn Wynne. No one in this room was going to mourn her any. He appreciated the way Jay looked less pleased about Wynne probably attacking Bea. While he and Jay hadn’t shared the hatred of muggles or squibs the rest of the Death Eaters had, squibs were hardly treasured members of wizard society. Barty sighed at Jay’s question, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of what he’d seen. “I can’t take any credit for any of this,” he confessed. He might have sank onto the sofa if his living room wasn’t in even worse condition than normal. Had he killed her it would have been neater, he’d like to think. Which maybe was part of the problem. Barty had spent so long plotting and planning how to kill her, and his parents, without leaving a trace to connect him to the deaths, that Wynne had just ran wild. It was probably inevitable that it would have ended up a mess. Still he’d have liked the mess to have been somewhere not his flat, shitty as it was he was still living here. Barty had decided before he owled Jay that he’d tell the other about what had happened, partially because he needed to tell someone before it drove him mad. “It was Bea. Now I know how impossible that sounds, believe me,” he added quickly least Jay think he was insane. “I know I dismissed the possibility she was someone else when she first appeared but that was before this.” Barty had been suspicious at first and discussed at length with Jay about if Bea could be an imposter. It had seemed more far-fetched then his dad messing with his memories when he was eleven. “I still don’t know what gain someone would have pretending to be Bea. But she was either an imposter or my squib twin is now frighteningly proficient in wandless magic and capable of this.” Again he motioned to the pile of ash that was now Wynne. “All the other damage was from Wynne firing off spells because Bea blinded her somehow. Look at the area where Wynne’s ashes are, it was a very contained fire. I have no explanation for what I saw, Jay.” Barty hated not knowing an answer and this was a very complex puzzle that he was lacking far too many pieces to hope to find an answer. It was maddening. “But I know without a doubt that Bea, or whoever was playing at being Bea, was responsible.” And that fact ruined any enjoyment he could get out of Wynne being disposed of, or nearly disposed of. He still needed to dump her ashes.

Jay was quick to head to Barty’s, knocking lightly at the door so as not to draw any attention from neighbors, though he wasn’t surprised when his mate opened the door to see he’d taken precautions. That or there wasn’t a mess. Barty certainly looked a bit of a mess. Not at all as happy as Jay would expect if it were Wynne’s body they were to dispose of, which was disappointing for more than one reason. The squib and her fancy husband were supposed to be around for dinner, if Jay wasn’t mistaken. A bad idea to associate with a squib at all, let alone to let Wynne near one. But Jay was hoping it wasn’t the squib or her husband who’d died. Just because it was a bad idea to hang around one didn’t mean Jay wanted Barty’s twin sister dead again. He’d always been less concerned about who the Death Eaters were killing as he was about not being on the side that had the power. And it was becoming more and more clear they’d chosen wrong. Or at least that whatever power there was to be had, the Dark Lord did not intend on sharing any of it, even with his most faithful followers. And Jay was only interested in being faithful so long as it suited him. 

“Sure, mate,” he said as he quickly stepped inside, waiting for Barty to secure the door behind them, curious as to what the mess was. It turned out mess was an understatement. Jay let out a low whistle as he took in the wreckage, though his response was kneejerk. “Was it ever?” He quipped as he stepped a bit further into Barty’s flat to take in how much of it was burned and blasted. “I take it Wynne enjoyed herself?” He asked, though there was another question implied: how much did she enjoy herself? And who got the last laugh?

Barty had to admit that Jay was correct in that assessment. The truth didn’t sting because Barty had always known it was a pathetic flat. It was only supposed to be temporary, something to make his dad think he was living the way the elder Crouch wanted him to. Temporary had taken a lot longer than Barty had cared for. But it’d be over soon, thankfully. As there was no retort to the quip Barty let it pass without a response. He chuckled humorlessly at Jay’s assessment. “Surprisingly I don’t think Wynne enjoyed much of the evening. She was repeatedly bested by—“ Barty stopped himself before he said squib, was Bea a squib any longer, that seemed to be a no. “Bea,” he finished. “Failed to attract her husband despite Wynne trying desperately.” It had been really shameless. “Found out she wasn’t getting all of my money like she had decided. I’m not sure what her plan was with all of this, by that time I’d muted her.” He smiled at that because he’d enjoyed it. “But as you can see, whatever the plan, I don’t think it succeeded.” Barty nodded to what was left of Wynne. “All of that before anyone even finished a glass of champagne. As far as dinner parties go I’d say this one was a mixed success. Turned out better than I thought it would, actually.” Bea abandoning him stung but he had gotten rid of Wynne. It wasn’t all terrible.

Eventually Barty picked himself up off the kitchen floor and was dismayed to remember the mess his flat was now in. There wasn’t much left of Wynne, mostly ash. Good riddance. Only now he had to dispose of it all. Clean up the flat. Figure out how he was going to get around this mess. Possibly could have done most, if not all, alone but he didn’t have to. Bea may have abandoned him, again, if she was even Bea. Wynne dead, thankfully. But he still had Jay. Jay had always been better than family, at least his mum and dad. He proved it again by his response to Barty’s coded owl. In fact it actually cheered him up some. Maybe they’d celebrate Wynne being gone after. He still had some champagne and a whole lot of untouched Italian food. Bea still weighed on him but for the moment he let himself enjoy the fact that he was now single. When he heard Jay’s distinctive knock he placed a quick charm on the flat to disguise the mess in case anyone else was passed by while he had the door open.

“Heya mate, thanks for coming over,” Barty greeted the other ushering him inside. After locking and securing the door he turned to Jay. “It’s a bit of a mess.” With that he dropped the charm and showed just how much of an understatement a bit was. “Not exactly the ideal bachelor pad is it,” he quipped dryly.

Barty,

Please tell me the body is Wynne’s. 

(But don’t actually tell me – I’ll be there 10 and see for myself.)

Jay

Jay,

Cheers, mate. You’re the best.

You busy? Bit of a thing tonight. Need some help getting rid of a body.

While Barty was seeing their father in Briar for the first time, she was seeing the same in her brother. The willingness to go after what he wanted – in this case, revenge – no matter how many innocent people got hurt along the way. Maybe Briar had some of that in herself, too. She’d killed for her magic, after all. Maybe she was no better than any of them. She was as much a product of the Crouches as Barty was. But what Briar couldn’t get past was that the trouble Barty had chosen for himself was the kind that helped people who hated everything she’d ever been. How could he choose that, when for so many years he’d been the only person to tell her she was not less than just because she didn’t have magic? His question just stung more. Did it matter how many he’d killed? She wanted to tell him no, it didn’t matter. But those were words she was unable to say, because they would not be true. Of course it mattered. It mattered because she was still desperately searching for the smallest scrap of hope that her brother wasn’t as lost as he claimed to be. But that was foolish, she knew. He was a Death Eater and she was a Veela. They’d made their choices, and here they were. And this pain they were both feeling now was Briar’s fault for revealing herself to Barty in the first place. “It doesn’t make you less lost,” she said finally, a reminder to herself as her eyes flickered back down to that mark on Barty’s arm. There was no hope in this situation. There never had been. It was time to go. Briar took a step backwards and waved her hand to put out what was left of the green flames Wynne conjured, lest they burn the house down. It was tempting to let them. Maybe she should; then the world would be down two Death Eaters. But Briar couldn’t. So instead she just turned and held out a hand to Thorn before leading the way out of Barty’s flat. 

Barty didn’t have it in him to protest or beg for Bea’s forgiveness. Not just because he didn’t deserve it, though he knew he didn’t. But also because this was for the best. Bea needed to be as far away from him as possible. That didn’t make it hurt any less. This was no worse than watching her die. Both times he’d lost his twin had been his own fault. Yes the first time had been a lie construed by their father but Barty hadn’t known that. He’d lived with that lie was truth for so many years. Now he had to live with this. Though how long he had to live was in doubt. Wynne might be gone but that wasn’t going to make Barty’s life any better, not really. Hearing Bea say it wouldn’t make him less lost was somehow worse than knowing himself that he was lost. Like Barty really was lost. No hope. He barely kept it together as Bea and her husband walked away. But it only lasted for that moment. He fell apart. The truth of his situation weighing him down, even heavier than before. He was lost. There was no getting out of this. No reason to get out of it. Barty might as well be dead. It probably would have been kinder if Bea had killed him. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t, she didn’t want to do him any kindnesses.

Briar watched stone-faced as Wynne was engulfed in flames, the woman’s – the Death Eater’s – screams muted until she collapsed and the cursed fire continued to eat away at her. It felt fitting, that she should be killed by the same cured flames she’d conjured to kill Briar and Thorn. Perhaps Briar should have felt guilty, but it was hard to after all she’d learned about who this woman was. Not just foul, but a murderer herself. As was Briar’s brother, or it seemed almost certain that he was. She turned to face him, still masking her emotions as he practically delighted in the fact she had magic, never mind that she’d just used it to kill someone in front of him. Most likely Barty had seen plenty of death before now. Too many different emotions bubbled up in Briar. It pained her to hear pure happiness from her brother to see she’d gotten what she’d always wanted. Only magic had only been what she thought she’d wanted; Thorn, their family at the beach, her place among the Veela, that was what she’d really wanted – a place to belong. She used to think the only place she belonged before the Veela was with her twin brother. Now that felt like a lie. But watching his face fall as he seemed to remember his dark mark didn’t make her feel any better.

Maybe everything Barty said was true. Maybe it had all been to get back at their parents. It was their fault, Briar would concede to that much. Only it wasn’t just their fault. Barty had made his own choices when they were kids; he was capable of it. And what he’d chosen was to side with people who hurt innocents who couldn’t fight back. Had Briar done the same in signing up for the games, in choosing the Veela? No – she hadn’t chosen the Veela to go along with what they did; she chose them for a chance to make things better. What Barty was doing wouldn’t make thing better for anyone; not even for him. 

“Oh, you’re happy for me?” She asked him with a cold laugh. “Happy you won’t have to explain to your Death Eater friends why you didn’t murder the squib?” That was what was expected among that sort, wasn’t it? The sort Barty chose. It didn’t matter if Briar was an exception. It mattered that he killed people just like her. Or most likely had. Briar should leave now. She knew that. She’d exposed that she could do magic. She’d learned something about Barty that was unforgivable. It was time to go. But she didn’t move. Instead she held her brother’s gaze. “How many, Barty?” She asked softly. “How many muggles, how many squibs, have you killed for them?” 

Barty flinched at her words. The cold way she said them. For the first time Bea reminded him of their father. The same cold, hard judgment, no room for any thought as to why he’d done what he’d done, only that he’d fallen short. He deserved it, he knew. Maybe he’d even deserved it from their father. It was hard to keep it all straight. Barty had so many voices in his head telling him who her was, none of them his. Wynne. Voldemort. Their parents. And now Bea. He wondered if she was going to kill him so her soft voice surprised him. Barty was confused by it. Wynne had often changed like that from angry to not in a blink of an eye. Was there a right answer here? He could say none because it had turned out that Barty Crouch Jr was not a killer after all. But just because he’d never purposefully killed anyone didn’t mean people hadn’t died. Some maybe even from his wand as he tried to stay alive during fighting. And he’d never stopped any deaths. Barty didn’t know what Bea was looking for here. Did she want him to be a killer or not? Was this going to be justification to kill him like Wynne? “Does it matter,” he finally asked, voice sad. Bea’s mind had been made up about him the moment she saw the mark. He couldn’t blame her. Nothing he could say in his defense would take away the fact that he’d joined the Death Eaters. He’d gotten his twin back only to lose her again and this time he couldn’t even blame their parents. The blame rested on his shoulders, shoulders that were hunched from the weight of Bea’s hatred for him now.

The worst kind. Briar was having trouble thinking of something worse than the games that her brother could have gotten sucked into. He didn’t know about the games, which meant this could still be something better than that, something fixable. Only there was something in the way Barty spoke, his voice quiet and quavering, that made Briar’s worry even greater. She felt like her heart was constricting when he told her she didn’t have a choice; Briar had worked too hard, given too much, to be told she didn’t have a choice again. But – I’m lost. What did that mean? What was so bad that Barty thought his situation was hopeless? “Barty…” Briar’s voice was soft, helpless as her brother pulled back from her and she let her hands fall limply to her sides. She wanted to say more, but she realized a moment later that Barty wasn’t finished yet. Instead he was…pulling up his sleeve? Why would Barty be showing her his – Briar sucked in an audible breath as the mark came into view on his skin. The dark mark. A Death Eater. 

Wide, horrified eyes moved from the mark to her brother’s face. Her twin brother. Who’d spent eleven years sticking up for her, reminding her she wasn’t worthless just because she didn’t have magic while their parents told her the opposite. Who spent even longer than that thinking he’d killed her. He’d told her he felt guilty about that. Maybe he did. But not guilty enough to stop him joining a group of people who killed muggles, squibs, even Veela if their suspicions were correct – every identity Briar had ever had, the people her brother joined hated. And they hated loudly. Violently. Suddenly Wynne made much more sense. And why he’d jumped so quickly to killing her. How many muggles had Barty hurt? Killed?

Briar took a step back as the realization flooded over her, then another. Briar had never given up on Barty. He’d given up on finding her only because he’d been made to believe he killed her. Only as it turned out, he’d given up on her in a much greater way. Or maybe he’d never been the person she thought he was at all. All those years reassuring Briar she was worth just as much as a wizard – had that been lies? Or had she been an exception, only because they shared so much? She wanted this to be a lie, a joke, but there was no reason for something like that. This was real. This was who Barty was now. 

All at once the horror and shock and devastating betrayal across her face were replaced by a practiced blank expression. Inside Briar was breaking to pieces as everything she’d once believed and all the hope she’d held out for her brother – for the one person who’d supposedly always believed in her during that dark period of her life as Beatrice Crouch – was shattered. But the person standing across from her, sharing so many of her features, was not her brother. He was a stranger, a Death Eater; he didn’t get to see how much he’d broken her. “I’m sorry they broke you,” was all she said, her voice cold. She wasn’t sure if ‘they’ was their parents or the death eaters or some combination of all of them, but she had no doubt Barty was broken – too much for Briar to fix. Too much for Briar to want to try. He’d made a choice. And now she had too. “Thorn, let’s go.” 

But before she could turn to leave, Barty was getting blasted away from her. Briar whirled around in time to see Wynne on her feet, wand pointed at Thorn. Oh, absolutely not. Thorn was perfectly capable of handling himself, but Briar was already angry and now she had an outlet for that anger. Briar’s reaction was instantaneous. She lifted her hands and directed all the light in the room toward Wynne’s eyes, effectively blinding her. The muting spell was obviously still working, Wynne’s mouth open in a shout but no sound coming out. “You’re going to have to speak up, darling,” Briar said in a pleasant tone even as she shifted the light around her and thorn to obstruct them both from Wynne’s already poor eyesight, not that that stopped the harpy from firing curses around the room, blasting down parts of the walls and igniting the kitchen table in some sort of cursed, greenish flames as she aimed wildly. Briar dodged them easily, trusting that Thorn was doing the same, and took in the blaze now in the room. Perfect. Briar used her magic to redirect the flames consuming the table, only instead of engulfing Wynne in them straight away she merely had them eat away at the girl’s wand, smirking at the horrified look on her face as Briar flickered back into Wynne’s view. “I really should leave you for Barty to deal with, but unlike him I actually care about all the people you’ll hurt if I don’t.” And with that she let the rest of the blaze Wynne had created engulf her.

Thorn was surprised to find out that Briar’s twin was a Death Eater. Stood to reason the girlfriend was one too. Which made much more sense. She was the sort he’d always associated with Death Eaters. Cold, calculating, quick trigger, delusional. Barty didn’t seem to be any of those things. He seemed more like a broken bloke. Despite his better judgement Thorn pitied him. There was no celebration to be had to see Briar pulled away from her brother in this manner. But whatever his views on this was he was intent on keeping them to himself till Briar asked. Until then he was more than happy to leave this cursed flat and the sad little people inside it. Not a moment too soon for his liking. Though it turned out to be a moment too late it seemed as Barty got blasted by some curse coming from the living room. For a split moment he worried this had been a trap, that he’d turn and find other Death Eaters, hunter too possibly. But no, it was just the psycho they’d already dealt with. Thorn kept out of the way, letting Briar deal with this. Fire was her element. But there was more than that, she’d just been dealt a blow, this might help ease some of the anger she was likely feeling. If anyone deserved that directed at them it was the witch flinging curses.

It was chilling how quick Bea went from saying she couldn’t leave him again to his troubles to deciding to abandon him. But it was nothing he didn’t deserve. Barty made no move to get Bea to stay, it was better if she went. This was his life now, alone is what he deserved. The blast was a surprise. One moment he was trying no to break down as his sister was declaring they were leaving and the next he was on the floor against the wall. Barty had his wand in his hand quicker this time but in the end it didn’t matter because it sat useless in his hand as he watched his squib sister use magic. Not just any magic either. Some kind of wandless magic he’d never seen. It was awe inspiring what she was doing. And then terrifying. Barty felt the sting of her words even as he watched in shock at Bea burning Wynne. He’d known he’d seen Bea use magic earlier. But it seemed so far-fetched that he codlin’t wrap his head around it. This did too but he’d definitely seen it.

For a moment all he could think about was that Bea had used magic. “You’ve got magic, Bea,” he asked his voice actually happy. Because in that moment he was happy. It was everything Bea had ever wanted. What he’d wanted for her. She’d gotten it. “How? When? Why didn’t you tell me? Were you really just a late bloomer after all?” He had so many questions. He was so happy for her. And then he caught sight of the mark on his arm and reality set in once again. It didn’t really matter now did it. The smile fell and he slumped back down against the wall. “I’m happy for you, Bea,”  he said even though his voice didn’t sound happy any longer. But magic didn’t change the fact that he was a Death Eater and it was still safer for her to be far away from him. Or that she now hated him.

It’ll only fix that. Briar’s heart sank. What else could there be, to have Barty looking as nervous and panicked as he was, when their parents were dead and he’d been dating a psychopath? What did he think he’d fucked up? Briar listened to her brother, eyes wide with confusion, trying to make sense of what he was saying and shaking her head when he went on about putting her in danger again. If only he knew what Briar was capable of – but she couldn’t tell him that. Briar’s concern only grew as Barty kept talking, a knot of dread settling in the pit of her stomach. It seemed like a good idea….a way to pay him back…I was so angry….I thought I was already a killer….it was a mistake…it seemed like a choice. No. Briar shook her head slightly; the excuses were too familiar, the same kinds of justifications she heard so often from players. A lot of the same justifications she’d told herself. But Barty wasn’t a player; of that she was certain. So what, then? What was so bad he was trying to push her away when they’d just found each other again?

“Barty Crouch.” Despite her worry and growing dread, Briar’s voice was firm, resolute. “I left you alone to deal with mum and dad’s mess once already. I didn’t have a choice that time. But this time I do have a choice, and I am not walking away while you’re in trouble.” 

At some point, Briar knew, she would have to walk away. Maybe not permanently, but she would have to be a figure in the periphery of her brother’s life. Distant. She had too many secrets, and too many people counting on her. But she’d spent so many years trying to find her brother, so many years wondering how he was doing, hoping he was doing as well as she was. And Briar knew was it was to be desperate. Knew what it was to agree to something for the wrong reasons without understanding what it meant until you were in too deep. She’d survived it, and come out better. But most didn’t. “What sort of trouble are you in, Barty?” She asked in a softer voice, worry finally creeping into her tone.

Thorn was listening as Barty talked. The desperation running off him was so thick it was a surprise he hadn’t been lured. Only he talked like a bloke that had been. Thorn wondered if there was a chance that Barty was a Vila player. It didn’t seem like it. But then what? What did desperate wizards do when the Veela weren’t involved? And what would Briar do with this new complication her brother was throwing her way? It seemed like Thorn was going to find out both. He couldn’t help but pay attention to the scene in the kitchen, waiting to find out what it was Barty Crouch Jr had done in his moment of desperation.

Barty was nearing distraught. Of course Bea didn’t understand. She didn’t know yet. He wished she’d have just taken his word for it and left with Thorn. “The worst kind, Bea,” he answered her softly, all the pent up emotions making his voice quiver. “You don’t have choice this time either. There’s nothing that can be done for me. I’m lost.” Barty wasn’t drowning, he was drowned. Wasn’t even sure any more if it was worth scrambling to try and keep his head above water. Especially now that there was likely nothing at the end of this but either Azkaban or marriage with Wynne. Both sounded just as depressingly soul sucking as the other. Barty was a coward and this was taking more bravery than he had. He backed away from her, running his hands through his hair again. The mark couldn’t hurt her but it still seemed something to not be close to her when he showed it. It took all he had in him to pull up his sleeve with a shaky hand. The charm to hide the mark was simple enough he could perform it despite how upset he was. Barty couldn’t look at her as he showed it. Couldn’t even speak to apologize again. Instead he just stood there, head bowed, mark exposed.

veelarebel​:

Now that the immediate threat of Wynne was put on hold Thorn could be more observant of Barty Crouch Jr. It had been hard to get a read on him the first time they’d met with the whole shock of his twin not being dead altering him. Watching him now it was clear that Barty was a desperate bloke. In fact there were signs that Barty had been desperate for a while and not just because he now thought he had to kill his girlfriend. The floors of the flat were worn in a way to suggest the pacing the other was doing now was common place. Thorn had no way of knowing if the desperation was because he was stuck with a detestable witch or something else on top of that. He just knew this was the sort of desperation that got humans trapped into becoming players. A worrying thought. But he also couldn’t help thinking about Brair, had she reached this level of desperation when she signed up. Or had the Veela just caught her at the beginning of the decent. What sort of parents had children so desperate that only murder seemed to be the way out. He almost regretted not meeting them just so he’d know. But where Briar had been trapped into a situation where murder really was the only way to survive, Veela were never completely honest about what the terms were. Barty just seemed to be jumping to that. Had he really thought all other options over? Thorn could see why one would consider one’s options to rid themselves of such a creature as this Wynne seemed to be. But murder felt like something that shouldn’t have been even considered an option. Yet, Veela knew better than most that humans were willing to do anything if they were desperate enough. Thorn decided to try not to judge him too harshly. Wynne on the other hand… he was definitely judging her harshly. The gall to think she could attempt to murder his wife and seduce him, or whatever her insane plan had been, might have been impressive if it wasn’t so laughable. This woman didn’t even deserve Barty,  and despite his efforts he didn’t have a very high opinion of the bloke right now.

Barty looked like a caged animal, pacing the kitchen in a panic and biting his lip in a way that he’d done when they were children. Getting their parents out of the way was supposed to fix this. It had been clear even before Briar agreed to help with that goal that their parents were not the only problem in her brother’s life. But she’d been hopeful that getting rid of them would be the push he needed to get rid of the girlfriend. And maybe it had been, but not quite in the direction Briar had expected. She frowned at the look he gave her, as if she should have known better than to confirm. Clearly the harpy was horrible, but Briar didn’t think it was ridiculous not to jump right to murder. And she didn’t like what he said after about the memory charms, or rather that it seemed like he was ruling that option out on her account. Briar was not nearly as vulnerable as Barty seemed to think, something she’d just demonstrated. Never mind that Barty hopefully thought it was Thorn who’d been using the wand; Briar had taken Wynne down all the same. And she didn’t want to be the reason Barty had the weight of another life on his shoulders, even one as horrible as Wynne’s. But apparently Barty had thought that over. Discussed it was that creepy friend of his, even. Briar’s eyes found Thorn’s after Barty started pacing again. This was worse than she’d expected. She wished she could ask Thorn’s take, his advice, but doing so in front of Barty felt like it would only make things worse. Briar had to handle this, though she was glad Thorn was here at all; she wasn’t alone, not the way Barty had probably felt for who knew how many years. Of course he was desperate. 

Briar squared her shoulders and moved to stand in front of her brother, cutting off his pacing and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Barty,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Look at me. You are not a coward. She clearly has a twisted view of – well, everything, so anything else she’s told you about yourself you should just forget, too. And you don’t owe me an apology for not pushing your – I really don’t like calling her your girlfriend, why don’t we go with stalker? – into a fire.”

This whole situation was a mess. Maybe killing her was the only answer. Briar sighed. “Is this really what you want?” She asked him quietly. “Will this fix things for you?”

As Barty paced he thought about not just this immediate mess but the bigger one he was involved in. He hadn’t considered how he might manage that mess with Bea being back in his life. The two were not compatible. He just hadn’t seen it yet. He’d been too busy being angry at the fact that his parents had let him believe he was a murderer for so long. As much as he wanted to somehow never have Bea find out what he’d become, there didn’t seem a way out of that. Even if Wynne died tonight it wouldn’t solve anything, not really. Bea wasn’t safe around him, tonight made that clearer than Barty would have liked. As much as he appreciated her words, it really just showed how far away from who he’d been as a child, and who he’d wanted to be as an adult, he’d gone. He was a coward. Barty sighed at the same time Bea did. “It’ll only fix that,” he admitted motioning towards the living room. Wynne out of his life would be a measure of relief but it was like healing a cut on your shoulder but ignoring the fact that your hand was cut off. Not a lot of good in the end. Barty was drowning but he couldn’t let his sister drown with him. Even if that meant telling her something that would make her hate him.

Briar took a small amount of comfort in Barty’s assertion that he didn’t want to kill his girlfriend, if girlfriend was even the right word for whatever fucked-up situation he’d landed himself in. She just nodded, still perturbed by how quickly he’d landed on that solution, and then followed him to his kitchen. As she passed Thorn she grabbed his hand and squeezed it; Briar was glad she was not facing this alone. She stood across from Barty once they reached the kitchen, grateful to Thorn for taking up a post at the doorway to keep an eye on Wynne so she could focus on Barty. 

His words continued to be troubling. Briar let out a breath and ran a hand over her face. She’d dealt with worse than this. They could figure this out. Only she felt like there was a lot she was missing here, and she couldn’t help but wonder how much of this situation was her fault. She should have tried to talk to Barty privately before agreeing to come over while Wynne was there. She’d known Wynne was bad news. And if she couldn’t figure out a way to handle this screwed-up situation, how on earth was she going to help lead the Veela after the rebellion? Was she being too soft even worrying about whether killing Wynne was the right thing? When the rebellion happened she was going to have to be decisive. She might have to kill. She’d thought she was ready to do that. It just wasn’t what she wanted for Barty. And she didn’t want this following him, either. He would be a suspect if she wound up dead. 

“First of all, I’m not afraid of her.” Briar said in a firm voice. “And you shouldn’t be either.” Because he had Briar on his side. She was quiet for a moment, then she sighed. “She won’t let you go? You’re certain?” Briar was less doubting him so much as double-checking, confirming the information he’d told her so she could make an informed decision. “What about a memory charm? Is that an option?”

Now that it was becoming clearer that Bea was not going to just accept his word for the fact that he had no options left but to kill Wynne he was starting to panic. It was a familiar feeling of drowning that was overtaking him as he started to pace around the small kitchen and bite at his lip nervously. He’d felt it a lot after he’d been branded like cattle and forced off to go fight people like some Slytherin. But involving his sister in this mess made it all awful. He shook his head when Bea said she wasn’t afraid of Wynne. She should be. Barty then gave Bea a look that asked if she was even serous with that question. Had she not just seen what he’d seen. The memory charm idea was no good either. “The further you go back in the memory the more likely there is that something goes wrong. And we’d have to wipe you from her mind completely because even if we just erased what just happened,” something they still had to talk about but Wynne was the immediate problem here, “she’s still going to know you exist. You won’t be safe. She’s a lot more dangerous than you realize, Bea.” Barty was very apologetic about that. He felt horrible for doing that to his sister. “No, there’s nothing to be done but kill her. I’ve thought about it an awful lot. It’s the only solution. Jay agreed.” He’d accidentally let it slip once when he’d been drinking that Wynne wouldn’t let him break up with her.  They’d talked over the problem and the only answer was death. “If I’d just pushed her in the damn fire none of this would matter. But she’s right, I’m a coward. I’m sorry, Bea.” Barty went back to pacing nervously. As unpleasant as the whole murder business was he’d feel a lot better once it was done.