Mrs. Crouch was shaking like a rag, her face buried in the palms of her hands. Her body wracked with sobs.
"J-J-Just when I thought it was over" she cried. Her husband patted her on the shoulder consolingly.
"I am so sorry Judith" He said quietly.
"I just finally got over-the-the nightmares"
"I know" He said softly.
Bartemius Crouch may have been acting as a rock for his wife on the outside, keeping calm and supportive, but on the inside, he was a nervous wreck. What would his friends at the Ministry of Magic say? What would his bosses say? It had been no easy feat keeping the incident itself covered. It had cost him nearly every favor he had from his friends in the Daily Profit as well as his friends in the Department of Law Enforcement, bribing them to drop the search for the perpetrator. Crouch desperately wanted to find the bastard and make him pay but had the Department been following suit, the case would have been published by the Daily Prophet, and everybody would know. The thought of what it would have done for his reputation made him nearly shudder. But this... what would his friends at the Ministry say? Everybody there knew, despite his best attempts to cover the scandal up. They would guess that he wasn't the baby's real father, or even assume it. What if it took after it's real father? What if the perpetrator looked nothing like him or Judith? The scandal! He was on the verge of getting a promotion, but how would the child affect it? There was only one thing Mr. Crouch could do. And he was determined to carry it out.
"Don't worry Judith. I'll get rid of it" He replied, confidently.
"What do you mean?" His wife replied, puzzled.
"Just close your eyes, it will only take a minute. I am not particularly familiar with the spell but it can't be hard now can it? Even if I do botch it, the thing won't either way.
"Barty, what the hell are you saying?"
"Yes, Judith. I am aware of the fact that you must be a qualified healer in order to carry out the spell, but Healers live in St. Mungo's and St. Mungo's means people there. People who will see. It would mean the end of my-I mean-er- your reputation"
"Are you suggesting...that you perform a miscarriage spell?"
"Well, yes. How else are we going to get rid of the little parasite?"
"Barty, no!" gasped his wife.
"No? What in Merlin's Beard do you mean, 'no'?
"I mean that you are not going to kill my baby!"
"It's not a baby yet. It's only a small clump of flesh and tissue, barely developed. I promise that you won't feel anything. You might bleed for an hour or so, but I assure you that you will be absolutely fine"
"Barty" said his wife, in a tone he had never heard.
"You are not going to kill my baby. Life begins at conception. This child is going to get born"
"It's not a child. It's a filthy little demon brat that is the spawn of that monster who defiled you"
"I'm not going to punish the child for his father's wrongdoing"
"Are you suggesting that we raise the little atrocity?"
Bartemius was feeling faint. Did the air just get thicker?
"This is not his child. He is my child. I am not going to view him as a curse. I am going to view him as a gift. The only good thing that came out of this entire ordeal. My late mother used to say that there is always a good seed in a field of bad plants. You just have to look really hard. And I'm not going to sit around and lose myself in a tangle of bad plants. I've found the seed and I intend to nurture and grow it. Besides, think about it this way. We have been trying to conceive for over a year, but with no avail. Now I am pregnant. This is what you wanted isn't it?" Judith had never spoken this much at once.
"What? Yes I did want a child, but not like this" blustered Mr. Crouch
"Sometimes we get our wishes granted in strange ways, Barty"
"Are you saying that I brought this on you?"
"No darling, I am not. I am just saying that I think that we wanted children, so this is the way of the universe granting our wish. At the same time, it will bring us closer together as a family, and make the both of us stronger"
Bartemius glowered at her stomach, too enraged for words.
"I'm keeping the baby, Bartemius. Either he stays, or I leave" said Mrs. Crouch with a firmness in her voice that he thought he'd never hear.
"FINE! But don't expect me to care for the brat"
Mrs. Crouch was seemingly, too elated at the prospect of winning her battle, unconcerned about her Sisyphean Victory.
"Oh thank you Barty! THANK YOU! You'll see, he'll be the best son ever, just you wait! You'll see! He'll take after you! I can feel it in my bones! We'll even name him after you! He'll be the perfect son!"