No Son Of Mine

There was absolutely nothing more tedious in Barty’s mind, than having to continue his employment within the ministry.  Unfortunately for him, it had been made abundantly clear by the dark lord that it was imperative to have as many undercover death eaters working inside Ministry walls for as long as possible.  It just meant that he had to suffer the excruciating small talk between Aurors and other employees.  Unlike many of his inner circle comrades who also worked alongside him, nobody seemed to question Barty’s allegiance, presumably because of his father.  This was both a blessing and a curse.  

Influences

Dexter Morgan - Dexter 

Rick Grimes - The Walking Dead (After season 2)

The two characters that I draw the most muse from for Barty would have be the two above. Dexter is probably fairly self explanatory, but if your not familiar with the book or the show, he’s a sociopath who also happens to murder people... bad people that is. He has a code he lives by, to help him sleep at night.  A main narrative throughout the seasons is his inability to connect with other people on a human level, even when he actually wants to.  Despite this, he does manage to have a handful of fairly successful romantic relationships, at first he doesn’t think he is capable to feel love, though his own emotions prove him wrong.  He does tend to border the line between being protective and being predatory over his partner though, which is definitely something Barty does. If he does allow that wall to be broken down, he’s fiercely protective of the few people he does care for.   And I don’t think I need to say that he’s more than okay with murder.  Like Dexter, he’s also very obsessive and meticulous, he has to be. 

Rick Grimes absolutely will not back down during season 2, all the way up to around season 6.  He does whatever he has to, to stay alive for the people around him. Though, I think what really caught my Barty muse was a scene in season 2 where Rick says; “If I see you anywhere near our people, if I so much as catch a whiff of your scent.  I will kill you.”    

There was a time where she would feel intimidated by Barty. But that was before he told her he didn’t want to control her. Before he spent the night next to her bed when she was hurt. Now, it was oddly comforting. While they weren’t the best of friends, he at least seemed to want no harm to come to her. Though as he stood before her, she needed to look into buying some taller heels. Even though their height difference did make something twist in her stomach. She did tend to like men that were taller than her. “The wedding.” She realized as she said it that it might have been a mistake to bring it up. It’s not like they had really talked about it outside of that first night. But it was inevitable. It was most likely, the only reason they were standing here talking. “She’s….she’s not letting my father do anything, really. He wanted us married as fast as possible but she’s not letting him.” It was a kindness she didn’t even know about. Not that she was not wanting to get married. But the idea of a longer than few weeks engagement was appealing. 

“She keeps telling him to leave the planning to the women and that it takes time. It’s working so far. I’m not sure I’d be able to stop him if it was just me.” There would always be that slight fear towards her father. That question in the back of her mind about her mother’s death. “It’s been…rather helpful to have her.” She didn’t tell him how it made her miss her own mother even more. Or that each meeting made her more and more anxious. “And staying busy has been nice.” Another poor choice of words. She shook her head, taking another breath. “I’m sure you didn’t want to hear any of that. You really do need to cut me off or else I just keep going. I’ve never been very good at holding my tongue. Got me in trouble more than once as a child.” 

Up till recently, Barty had been choosing not to think about the wedding itself, to him it was just pomp and circumstance, he had never considered it to be anything meaningful. Of course, he knew that for some people, the day itself was the subject of precise planning and caused many a sleepless night, making sure that it was perfect. His maternal grandparents, though betrothed were the only couple in his family that he could think of who actually married for love.  He certainly couldn’t deny that Georgiana had been on his mind alot as of late, and the thing was, it didn’t actually bother him anymore.  A part of him had wanted to see her, he hadn’t felt obligated, he just wanted to. Which was new.  Barty knew that he had been feeling an odd knot in his stomach when his eyes had first fallen onto her earlier, not an unpleasant one, just an unfamiliar one.  

A scoff escaped Barty’s lips and he gave a single shake of his head, “My father will be having very little to do with it...”  Save for the financial side, Victoria always did have very expensive taste. “...Which is just as well, my parents don’t work particularly well together, when it comes to organising anything.  He’s much better suited to being told, as opposed to being asked.”   Finally meeting Georgiana’s gaze, something close to a smile flashed on Barty’s lips if only for a millisecond.  “I tend to have the opposite problem.  Never sharing enough.”  That sentence made him realise internally that there were certain things he ought to share before their upcoming nuptials..... 

Barty sighed, and looked over his shoulder and around them for a second. “Shall we go for a meal?  The weather is unseasonably mild tonight.”

It wasn’t that she was avoiding Barty. She had things to do. Busy even. It hadn’t been awkward when he had left her place after he took her home. It had been…well endearing, really. It had given her hope. He at least wanted to make sure she was okay. It was becoming clear he was someone she could trust. There was that small voice in the back of her head questioning that but would it hurt to try? There was at least a chance of being somewhat comfortable and she was going to take it. At least until he gave her a reason not to. 

She had worked a few days a week with her brother. She didn’t really need to do it, not with what her. mother had left her. It was a good excuse to get out of her house. To make some money of her own. Plus, it keep her at the Ministry. It was easier to know things if she could be around. She had entered the lobby when she felt eyes on her. It wasn’t uncommon but it was enough to raise her concern. She had turned her head when she heard Barty’s voice. Gods, he was handsome. 

“I’ve been well,” she said softly. She was lying. Her injuries were healed but any small sound, any shadow that moved she was scared. Terrified that something was going to come and throw her into another wall. Or even worse. She needed to change the subject. “Your mother has been very kind in helping me plan. I’m sure she’s told you all about it.” She gave him a warm smile. “How have you been?” 

This was all entirely foreign to Barty, he had never had any concern for another person, save for perhaps his mother. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of empathy, a simple diagnosis would more than likely point to him being closer to the psychopath end of the spectrum than not.  But with that in mind, he would be lying if he said he didn’t care about Georigiana’s well being, and at first this had irked him incredibly so. It had felt like she had some sort of hold over him just because they were engaged. But he had since realised that she had no more control over it than he did. 

He wasn’t sure that he believed her when she said she was well, but chose not to push that. A sort of small smirk formed on his lips as he found her gaze, “You might be the first person to describe my mother as ‘kind.’ ... Though she does seem to like you.”  He tiled his head slightly. “Plan?”  He now rose to his feet, sliding his hands into his pockets. Barty could be seen as threatening just by his physical frame, he was tall and well built, and he seemed to realise for the first time just how much smaller Georgiana was in comparison. No wonder it was so easy to carry her, he thought to himself. “Should I ask?”

It wasn’t that Barty had been avoiding Georgiana, he hadn’t been going out of his way to avoid her or anything. But he also hadn’t put aside the time to go and check on her since the night he had stayed by her bed, like some kind of guard dog. It must have been a week since that happened, perhaps a week and a half, if one were being pedantic. Barty’s mother had sent her son an owl the previous morning asking if he were maintaining contact with his newly betrothed, which had slightly bothered him. Barty was never going to be the ideal husband, that was fairly evident from his behaviour. Although, unlike most of his actions, it wasn’t actually intended to be hurtful or some sort of slight towards Georgiana, he just did not posses the sort of interpersonal skills that came so easily to others. Unless of course it was put on as a mask, a facade. But he was trying not to start his marriage that way. 

He knew that she would be leaving work soon, and so he had waited in the Ministry lobby. Seemingly staring into space until she entered his periphery, thats when he turned his head towards her. “How have you been?”

It was easy to do as he said. He wasn’t going to hurt her. He had told her that. He wouldn’t start now. Even with his words about his father still in the back of her mind, she allowed herself to do as he said. To allow herself to be taken care of. She watched carefully as he looked at the potions. Were they the wrong ones? The moment she opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong he took his jacket off. He must have been staying then. A sense of relief washed over her. 

Normally, the sight of someone pulling out a wand and aiming it at her would cause her to grab her own. Yet she stayed perfectly still as Barty did just that. Her reaction alone was enough to her to show she was more comfortable with him than she cared to admit. The spellwork was perfect. Clearly this wasn’t the first time he had done it. It made her wonder what else he had taken blood out of. That thing twisted inside of her again at the thought of him having to do this to his own clothing. His voice caused her to snap out of her thoughts, eyes slipping back into focus as she took him in. Her hand closed around his forearm, squeezing gently before nodding. “I would like that.” 

She stood up slowly, not trusting herself to move quickly. Her steps were slower than normal as she made her way to the stairs. “I’m glad you found me.” Her voice was quiet as she moved up the stairs. Almost as if she was afraid to disturb the moment. “The whole hospital was packed. You could have easily missed me.” A turn to the left once at the top of the stairs, opening the double doors to her master bedroom with a wave of her hand. “Or you could have just walked away. It was kind of you to come up to me.” She offered him a small smile, wincing as she turned to face him. “Even kinder to take me home.”

Barty had been pacing the sitting room for a while, he had been glad that Georgiana hadn’t put up much of an argument about finally resting.  He was however, mildly annoyed that he was still hovering about. He had thought about leaving several times, but he just couldn’t quite allow himself. Honestly, he wasn’t even entirely sure how much time had passed since he had left her alone in her room. Upon looking at his watch, he saw that it been a good hour or so.  If he were the one in desperate need of sleep, one hour certainly would not cut it. He slid his hands into his trouser pockets as he continued looking around the room. A person’s home, their safe place spoke volumes about who they were, and Barty noticed a distinct lacking of pictures of Georgiana’s father.  There were of course, the standard ones that a person leaves out, but none of the candid sort that he saw in other people’s homes.  He only noticed that fact because his own apartment was the same, one family picture and the rest were of his mother, even the expressions in the pictures spoke a thousand words. In fact, if he didn’t know her, he would probably assume both parents were dead.

He sighed heavily, mostly because he was exasperated at himself, how ridiculous. He should leave, yes he really should. Though, he found himself instead climbing the stairs to the room he had watched Georgie enter an hour or so previously. Still completely out of it, so Barty took care as he quietly crossed the threshold into the room. His head tilted to the side as he watched her rest, realising in that moment that he too was exhausted.  He raised a hand to pinch at his temple, wondering one last time if he would be better off leaving and returning in the morning, though he spited himself once again.  Lowering into the armchair by her bed, he loosened his tie, eyes never leaving her.  He had been right to take her to st Mungo’s after the Attack.  Of course, it wasn’t something he could ever really advocate, but he did not regret it.   He rested his chin in his hand, elbow placed on the arm of the chair.  

Perhaps it was because he too was completely wiped out, but he found himself murmuring, barely audibly, “How did you manage to get caught in the middle of it anyway?”   And with that, he too passed out. 

It was easy to do as he said. She was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Following a simple direction like sitting down was good. That she could do. Her thoughts were racing and she almost missed the realization that his hand was on her forehead. It wasn’t what she was expecting. It made everything calm for a moment. Her eyes met his once his hand dropped and she nodded. Sinking into the empty chair behind her, she watched as he made his way over to the healer that seemed to be in charge. It felt that he was gone for only a moment but she knew in reality it must have been minutes. He was offering to help. She almost said no. Almost. The offer of someone who was not paid to take care of her offering to do just that made her realize she needed it. She could ask this of him. They were to be married. She would need to depend on him. “Come with me. Please.” It was more vulnerable than she would usually allow herself to be. Her typical defenses were gone. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

She rose from her chair and grabbed his free hand. Nodding once, she took a deep breath before imagining her living room. The apperation only took a moment but it was a bit of a rough landing, knocking her into Barty. She apologized softly before stepping back. Though it was slow moving, she could feel the attack catching up with her. The dread. The fear. The pain. All of it. Being home just made it more real. Her hands started to shake as she looked down at them. It was only then she realized there was blood on her dress. It was ruined. This day was ruined. If it wasn’t for the person in the alley….she didn’t even what to think about what might have happened. 

Her breath became more shallow as her thoughts continued to race. She tried her best to calm down but couldn’t. The blood on her dress might not even be hers. People were hurt. At least one person was killed. Her knees felt weak and the tears started to form in her eyes. While she knew she needed to depend on Barty, she didn’t want him to see her like this. But she couldn’t seem to move. “I….I….” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I’m sorry I….” 

Barty was relieved that she seemed to relent, because he really didn’t want to spend more wasted time going back and forth on the matter.  Whether he liked it or not, it really was in his best interest to make sure she was both mentally and physically well.  Both their fathers aside, he couldn’t deny that there was some sort of pang in his stomach aching at him, it had been ever since he had first came to see how she was.  It wasn’t just that he was hardly familiar with the sensation of guilt, that alone was niggling at him, it was also that he wondered if he should have given her some sort of warning, or made sure that she would be far away from Diagon on that night. It hadn’t even crossed his mind prior to the attack, he had been somewhat pre-occupied with other things. How can I be a Husband if that never occurred to me?

“Make sure you don’t splinch us.”  He had managed to say before they left, he was about to comment further on the sudden landing, but before a singular word could leave his lips, she had collided with him. The way she instantly back away from him upon their landing, only made Barty wonder if she had put two and two together, and was she....afraid of him now? Maybe she had figured out what he was, and that attempting to like him, never mind love him, would be a hopeless feat.  His brow furrowed slightly as made some attempt to speak.  For once in his life, Barty wasn’t annoyed or even mildly perturbed, was it really possible that the only thing he was feeling right now was guilt?  The only other time in his life that he had even tried to give himself to someone else, had been with Evie Nott, and that hadn’t gone well.  Though, he suspected that much like himself, her mind had been somewhere else, or rather on someone else. He just never worked out exactly who. However, this was different, and Barty didn’t like it, he didn’t like not knowing what he was feeling deep within himself. 

“Sit down.”  Barty said sternly, Reaching into his inner pocket for the medication that the head mediwitch had given him, he eyed them and scoffed. He could probably find something better in a muggle store.  Slowly, he set the medicine down, and unfastened his blazer jacket, sliding it off and discarding it over the sofa, and proceeded to pull his wand from his trouser pocket.  He had pretty much perfected charms to take blood out from fabric at this point, no matter how expensive, he had alot of expereince in having to charm many a white shirt. Without saying a word, he knelt down infront of Georgie and pointed his wand at the blood stains and watched at the auburn marks started to shrink until they were gone. “No point in ruining a perfectly good dress.”  He said lowly.  “I really think you ought to rest.”  Raising his gaze up to meet with Georgies, his face was expressionless, he really needed to work on that.  “If you want, I can stay for a while.”

It took her another moment to realize her hand was on his arm. She had just grabbed the first thing she could. She felt a flush rise on her cheeks, something she would blame on her dizziness if questioned. The moment she let go, she missed the steadying nature of his arm. Merlin’s beard she needed to get out of her own head. Just because Barty didn’t want her miserable did not mean he saw this as anything other than transactional. 

She shook her head only a moment. The last thing she wanted to do was force herself to need another reason to grab him. “Not just yet. They’re sending me home with some potions. I need to wait for them.” And it would give her a little more time to calm down. She moved, this time much slower, to sit down. Her eyes found Barty’s before she spoke. 

“I do hope I’m not keeping you from any official business. If I am, I know I can manage to get home on my own.” She didn’t want him to get in trouble with his work over her. Their friendship was new at best. Something silly like that might be enough to break it. Barty was so damn hard to read she had no idea what he might be feeling. “The company is nice but I don’t want this to come back onto you. We’re not….we’re not married yet so the commitment isn’t the same. This is not worth any trouble.”

Barty excelled in many things, and he could enter a room full of people and know which one out of the dozens was worth his time before even talking to them, and he knew which to avoid. It just came naturally to him, reading a room, knowing exactly what to say, to have even the best reader confused about him and his true nature. But he didn’t know what Georgiana wanted to hear, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do.  His four grandparents had all passed before Barty was born, and his parents never truly loved one and other, so he had no basis, no example set.  He thought that it would be easy, to wear yet another mask; the Husband.  To let her have her own life, to be the supportive husband, to share with her what he had.  But he was slowly realising that, apparently that was not enough, she obviously wanted some kind of emotional connection to him, which Barty had no clue on how to feign, nevermind what it would truly look like. 

He fell silent as he watched her lower her gaze from him.  “Your not keeping me from anything, can you please at least sit down.”  It wasn’t so much a request as it was a statement.  He did however, know how to take care of someone, he had spent countless nights of his childhood helping his mother heal herself after various arguments with his father. He just never thought that he would transfer that onto another person.  He slowly raised his hand, and felt her forehead for a temperature, the action was oddly gentle and didn’t fit with what Barty usually projected, and almost as if that realisation hit him, he took his hand away again and shook his head. “I can brew you a potion, I really do think you need to rest. You feel too warm.  Wait here for a moment.”  

At most, he was only gone for ten minutes, he had gone to speak with one of the nurses. He could be relatively charming when he wanted to be, and managed to get what Georgiana needed from a fairly tired looking member of staff.  Returning to his betrothed, he held out his hand to show that he had the medicine. “Look...”  He started to say as he approached her, his expensive shoes slightly clicking on the cold floor with each step.  “...You can take this and leave if you want, or I can come with you and make sure you are alright.”

That was why he was checking in on her. It had been stupid of her to even think for a second that it was his own feelings that had him wanting to stay. She would blame the moment her smile fell on her pain. Or something like that. She was tempted to brush him off. To tell him she was fine and keep this stupid little crush she had in check. And yet here she was, nodding her head as she looked at him. Clearly she was looking to have just a little more pain tonight. 

“The healers did want someone to take me home. I was just going to agree and not bother. At least this way I’m not lying to them.” It was also because she didn’t want to be alone right now. The idea of having to be here alone and go back to her house alone after everything was too much. Though she knew this would do nothing for her feelings, it would at least be worth it to not have to be alone right now. 

She found two open seats, motioning towards them. As she started to move, she felt lightheaded. Without really thinking about it, she grabbed Barty’s arm. The room was spinning and she was taken back to the Alley. The sound of the bricks falling. Breaking glass. The screams. Her eyes slipped shut, trying desperately to right the world. It took a few moments but she finally settled, blinking her eyes open. “I apologize. Clearly I shouldn’t have tried to move that fast.” 

Barty wasn’t particularly annoyed, though he wasn’t particularly thrilled either, his indifference may have been closer to apathy if she had been just anyone. He could almost hear his fathers voice starting to ring in his ear, ‘...and you let her go home alone after being in the middle of the attack? Well, how considerate of you, merlin knows what her father will have to say about it...’   Barty took another step closer to her, his actions, which silently said he had made up his mind to stay, also silenced Barty Crouch Sr invading his thoughts. 

He had opened his mouth to speak, though was admittedly slightly taken aback when Georgiana grabbed his arm, though you wouldn’t know it to look at his face.  Barty was, by his own admission extremely difficult to read, though that was by design. To the point that he struggled to switch it off.  “I think I ought to take you home before you collapse.”  Barty stated.   His gaze shifted from her face to her hand around his arm.   “Do you think you manage to apparate us with injuring yourself?”  

That persistent nagging in his gut had not yet left, Barty had hoped it would. It was still entirely foreign to him, he genuinely didn’t know if it was guilt or something else.  But why should he feel guilty?

It wasn’t that she didn’t expect Barty. They had been civil to each other the past few weeks. Maybe even friendly if you asked her. And considering the apparent scale of he attacks, it made sense that he might be here. The whole Ministry was probably out checking on things. Though his question struck her. Had he seen her when she first got here? Or maybe after? She’s the first to admit her first hour or so was quite fuzzy. Had she already spoken to him? She must have. It would also make sense why he was asking her if he had seen her before the potions really kicked in. Even more so if she had been passed out when he did. Another thought of why he might be here hit her like the blast had. 

“You’re not hurt are you?” She took a few quick steps towards him, having to catch herself for a moment. Her eyes slipped shut as she hoped the room would still be upright when she opened her eyes. Taking the risk, she was happily met with the sight of Barty. The right way up and everything. He didn’t look hurt. That was a good sign. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about that aspect. 

“Maybe,” she said softly, making sure not to turn too fast. “But I’d rather be at home. My bed is much more comfortable than the ones here.” She gave him as good of a smile as she could muster. His concern caused that same twist she had felt recently. The same one she hoped he was feeling. “Plus I’m sure they need my bed. I’m not bad enough to have to stay.” She flipped her arm over, showing him the freshly healed cut there. “Just waiting on the potion to make sure this doesn’t scar. And these.” She let her hand wave towards the cuts on her face and neck. Glass from a shattered window most likely. “It hopefully won’t be too much longer.”

The immediate question going round and round in Barty’s head was, ‘why do you care?’ Just because your father insists that you marry her, doesn’t mean you have to suddenly become the sort of man who rescues some woman you barely know.  But at the same time, Barty did not want to partake in a marriage forever tainted and doomed to be nothing but silence, years built on an uneasy atmosphere.  He was completely at war with himself over all this, the main issue was, he did not want to care.  He didn’t know how to, he never had to think about someone else, other than himself. 

To her question, he gave a shake of head.  He really hadn’t been that involved in the attacks, other than physically being there. But he didn’t want to get into that when they were out in the open.  Choosing his words carefully, as he subconsciously found himself scanning the small room, “Missed most of it.”  Which wasn’t entirely untrue.   

Returning his gaze to Georgiana, the smallest look of concern crossed his features for a small moment. “Perhaps I should wait with you, then take you home.”  He said, somewhat matter of factly.  Tilting his head slightly, he added “If something happens to you, my father will never let me forget about it.”

Prompt;;

- Has their allegiance changed or has it grown stronger?  

Barty’s allegiance to the cause is difficult to put into words, because whilst he does believe in it, he still is not sure he completely agrees with all the orders he is given.  For example, he doesn’t believe in murdering needlessly, or causing havoc for no reason. He thinks it’s reckless.  

 - What has led them to be on the side theyre on?  (familial ties, personal choice etc)

Barty’s mother was a Yaxley before marriage, so she guided her son in that direction from a age.  But he also is determined to be absolutely nothing like his father. 

- Where do they see themselves after the war?

At the moment, he chooses to not think that far ahead. A part of him would like to have a happy marriage, but just now, he doesn’t know how likely that is. 

 -What does your character hope to achieve during the war? 

Honestly, I think Barty just wants to carry on working his way up in the Ministry.  As he is a spy, it is important for him to remain under cover, so there are only a handful of death eaters who know for sure that he is marked. Just keeping his life steady and away from the line of fire, is his primary concern. 

-If your character could speak to a younger version of themselves, what do you think they would say? 

He would probably give his younger self advice on cursing, so he could react better when his father cursed him.  He would probably also tell him that patience is a virtue and his life wouldn’t always be living at home with Barty Crouch Sr.

- What are some new or unshared head cannons you have for your character?

Oddly, Barty can dance.  His mother would often take him along to formal pureblood gatherings.  It’s also why, he is surprisingly quite gentlemanly with certain women in his life.

On his 18th Birthday, Barty and his mother had arranged to have a meal together, his father was so enraged that he had not been invited, that he raised his wand to curse his son.  Though, Barty was no longer a 12 year old boy, and beat his father to it and threw a curse at him.  It was something he had wanted to do for years and Barty Sr could see in his sons eyes that he was ready to throw a further curse if he even tried to react.   This was the first time that Barty stood up to his father, and he has not had to since.