For Liza.
X
"You watch it, boy!" Walburga shrieked as Barty's hand slipped, dripping hot tea from the cup he had tried to hand to her onto her wrist. She met his eyes with a glare, and he looked down, murmuring a quick, "Sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again."
She sneered at him slightly as he dried her wrist on a handkerchief. "See to it that it doesn't, Crouch."
"Yes ma'am," he said as he returned to the kitchen, sighing deeply once he'd left the parlour.
Barty hated it when the Blacks held dinner parties. It not only meant that Walburga and Orion would be even sharper than usual, but it meant a great deal more work for Barty and the others who worked for the Blacks.
Barty returned to the kitchen, preferring not to spend any more time with Walburga right now than was absolutely necessary.
Usually while in the kitchens, he felt that he could breathe more easily. Usually. The Black family hardly came there if they could avoid it, preferring to be served their meals at the table in the dining room.
Now, however, that didn't seem to be the case.
Regulus stood, almost awkwardly despite it being his house, by the doorway, watching Barty intently.
"I know you from somewhere other than here, don't I?" he said without preamble.
"Yeah—er—yes sir, we went to the same school a couple years ago."
If Regulus could tell that Barty was slightly uncomfortable, he showed no sign of it. "That's right. Funny how you can forget a thing like that, I used to see you every day and now I hardly recognize you."
Yeah, real funny, Barty thought, but he held his tongue. He didn't want to end up in trouble for speaking with Regulus so casually – the servants were expected to remain formal with the Black family while working, and Barty knew that Walburga wouldn't hesitate to fire anyone who wasn't up to her high standards.
"So what brings you to work for my parents now? Why'd you leave school in the first place?"
"I—I'd rather not go into it all, if you don't mind. Not now, at least. I've got to bring out food for the—"
Regulus nodded. "Right, forget I mentioned it. I'll let you go. Don't want to get you on the wrong side of Mother…"
Barty grinned at this for a brief second before taking a starter course tray of finger sandwiches out to Walburga and her guests.
:x:
"I expect the floor cleaned and dry by the time I come back."
"Yes ma'am," Barty replied promptly, nodding slightly. Walburga turned her back, and he watched her retreating figure all the way down the hall before he turned to the task at hand.
Going to the far-too-tiny supply cupboard, he grabbed an old bucket and rag and returned to the kitchen.
"Regulus," he said softly.
Barty didn't even need to turn to see him enter the room as he filled the bucket with water and soap. Walking past Regulus, he moved into the foyer and began to scrub at the rather disgusting tile floor.
Regulus watched Barty work, one eyebrow raised as he leaned back against the doorframe.
"If your parents see us—" Barty said, not wanting to get himself in trouble because Regulus was distracting him while he was working.
"Mother just left for the shops and Father's at the office today. No one to catch us."
Despite Regulus's assurance that they'd be fine, at least for a few minutes, Barty still held doubts. There was too much at stake for him to risk this.
"So. Honestly, I'm curious, how'd you end up here?"
Taking a deep breath, he let the rag fall back into the bucket, turning up to look at Regulus. "My father passed away a couple years ago. Mum couldn't get a job as easily as I could, so I left school to come work here and help support her. It works out well enough. I get food and a place to stay here, and I send home my pay to her. Does that answer your question?" he tried to make the last sentence sound less clipped than it turned out, but thinking more directly on why he was working here as a servant for minimal pay in the first place made it a bit tough to be entirely pleasant at the moment.
"Ah. I'm sorry for your loss."
Barty shrugged. His father had never been particularly paternal, and hardly seemed to have left work if he could've avoided it. Barty couldn't truthfully say he really missed him or felt bad that he'd died so soon, but his loss certainly made it harder on him and his mum.
"So you just dropped out of school?" Regulus looked genuinely intrigued, and Barty found it hard to not answer his questions.
"I didn't have much choice, did I? Father was our only source of income at the time, without him I couldn't afford to stay in school, and I needed to raise enough money to keep Mother and myself afloat."
"What was your father like? I mean, you don't really sound like you were all that fond of him, unless I'm mistaken..."
"No, I wasn't," Barty replied, shrugging again. "He worked in the government, hardly ever stopped working, really. And he wanted me to follow in his footsteps - to get good marks in school and work for the government like he did. Of course, that all stopped when he died. I did what was best for me and my mother at the time."
Barty fell silent, mind humming with memories of life at home before his father had passed away. He turned away from Regulus and back to his rag and bucket, starting to scrub the floor again. Walburga had just gone out to the shops for a bit, and there was no telling when she'd return, but Barty knew he had better have the floor cleaned by that time.
As though she had heard his thoughts, not a minute later Walburga came back into the kitchen. She saw Barty, hard at work again, before her eyes met Regulus's, who had just tried to reengage Barty into conversation.
Seeing her enter the room, Regulus fell silent at once, putting his haughty air back on. Barty briefly wondered if Regulus was as worried about what she was going to say as he was.
"What's going on in here? Regulus?" she demanded.
"I thought you were going to the shops?" he replied tentatively. Both Regulus and Barty knew better than to cross her. He was trying to figure out why she was back without making her angry.
"I left my coat. Now may I ask what's going on between the two of you?" Her voice sounded dangerous, and Barty kept quiet.
"Nothing's happening. I was just going."
And with that, Regulus left Barty with Walburga in the kitchen.
"I heard talking."
Barty replied quickly, pulling his face into a polite, emotionless mask. "He just asked me to tidy up his room once I've finished with this floor."
Walburga pursed her lips, looking down at him with eyes like cold steel as though trying to find the truth behind his lie. After a second's contemplation over him, she said, "Very well. Be sure you get the floor done first."
"Yes ma'am." And with that, she left the kitchen, grabbing her fur coat before going out again.
Barty finished cleaning the floor without further interruptions. Once he'd finished, arms sore from scrubbing, he made his way up to Regulus's bedroom, knocking on the door.
"Come in," his voice sounded from within, and Barty did so.
"What'd you tell her?"
"What was I supposed to say?" Barty asked defensively. "Thanks for your help, by the way."
"Sorry," Regulus muttered, though Barty got the feeling that he wasn't remotely sorry, that he only said this to get him to continue retelling what'd happened.
"I told her you'd just come down to have me tidy up your room - which I really should now, it's a mess." Barty hoped that Walburga and Orion wouldn't find out about him and Regulus talking so casually, almost like friends. "Wouldn't want her to come in and see that it hasn't been cleaned, she'd either think I'm a liar or rubbish at cleaning. I'd rather neither of those thoughts cross her mind."
"Right," he murmured, picking up a book from his desk and opening it. Regulus started to read as Barty cleaned his room, but Barty could have sworn he saw him looking more at Barty than the book, and that almost made him blush.
:x:
"D'you like blokes?"
The question came out of nowhere. Barty looked over to where Regulus sat, wondering whether or not to answer.
After a moment or so, he decided he may as well, saying, "Depends on the bloke, doesn't it? What about you?"
"I s'ppose," he murmured, a grin spreading across his face slowly as he watched Barty.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You tell me." And Regulus stood up from his seat, crossed the room in a stride to where Barty stood, and put a hand under his chin, lifting it gently to meet Regulus's eyes. Barty closed his eyes and without thinking about what he was doing, leaned in and felt Regulus's lips meet his.
It was bliss - soft and warm - before the door banged open and they broke apart, as though both were thrown backward from the point where they met.
Orion Black was standing, silhouetted in the doorway. He was still for a fraction of a second - during which time Barty thought that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't seen anything.
Of course he had.
"Did you start this, boy?" Orion asked Regulus, eyes narrowed as he approached the two of them. Barty could practically see anger coming off him in waves.
"No, Father," he whispered, softly but clearly, and the words fell from his lips like the guillotine on Barty's oh-so-guilty neck. "I don't know what he's trying to pull here, but I didn't start anything."
Barty knew he said this out of nothing more than self-preservation, but at the same time, he couldn't help thinking that he, Barty, needed to be the one protecting himself. Regulus wasn't the one who needed a job from the Blacks to support both himself and his mother.
"So it was you, then? You're coming onto my son?"
"I-no, I…"
Orion narrowed his eyes even further, so he was squinting at Barty as he replied. "You'd do well to remember your place, Crouch, or you will have no place in this house at all. Understand?"
"Yes sir, sorry," he mumbled in reply, knowing it would be better not to argue. "It won't happen again, I promise."
"This is your only warning, Crouch, or I will personally see to it that this never happens again. Now either do the job you're being paid to do or leave my house."
Barty's heart sank as he whispered a soft, "Yes, sir," not daring to look at Regulus as he returned to the kitchens. He couldn't lose this job, not when his mother depended on the money he raised. By working here, he could not only provide for her, but the Blacks also provided what he needed for himself. It was easier to face the smaller difficulties and fall back into line than to try to defend himself and get fired.
Barty just wished it didn't have to be this difficult.
:x:
"Do you even know how many of us there are working here?"
Silence. Barty raised an eyebrow as Regulus's eyes flickered down to his feet.
"Or do you just not care?" Barty knew he was being cold and bitter, but he felt justified.
"Why do you care?"
"Because you don't seem to give a damn about anyone else who works for your family. But you do seem to care about me." Barty said the last sentence as almost a question, as though asking why him, why, when Regulus decided to care for someone, why he chose Barty.
"It wasn't a conscious decision, falling for you," he murmured, a blush rising on his cheeks. "And I don't regret it."
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Follow my lead. Don't regret it."
X
Written for GGE July for Liza. Also for the Represent that Character Challenge.
This was an idea I've been playing around with for a while now, and I hope you enjoyed it!