For Just a Random Hufflepuff's Game of Thrones Quote Challenge on HPFC. What made Barty Crouch agree to free his son.
"There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man."
There was an air of awkward silence, disturbed only by the occasional clink of utensils on a plate. Barty Crouch senior let out a defeated, frustrated sigh. Setting his hands down, he faced his wife. The dining table seemed longer as he and his wife were seated at polar ends with lavish food and an untouched set of plates and utensils between them.
"Darling, you must try and eat.. please." he spoke with a gentle urging. His wife made no acknowledgement that she had heard anything he said. Simply staring at the tablecloth in front of her, tracing the silver pattern embroidered on the burgundy cloth with her finger over and over again.
"Darling. You'll get sick if you don't eat." he tried once again. Barty studied his wife, from the moment their son had been shipped to Azkaban his wife seemed to have crumbled. Her once soft, shiny chestnut locks were now lackluster and streaked with grays, the twinkle in her eyes and the smiles on her lips have all disappeared. A shell of what his wife used to be now sat across from him, this was not his wife, not anymore.
"Dar-"
"I wonder,"
Barty blinked in surprise as he was interrupted. Mrs. Crouch lifted her gaze up to meet her husband's. Her eyes were glassy and unreadable.
"I wonder, if our son is getting enough to eat, after all he might get sick." she asked in a light tone, as if their son was simply at Hogwarts. A brittle smile appeared on her lips, thin lips stretched too tight over her face.
"Our son... our son..." Mrs. Crouch faltered, tears brimmed at her eyes, taking a shaky breath she continued,
"Our son... is all alone in that damned place."
Barty slammed his utensils to his plate, the look on his face clearly read he'd rather talk about anything else.
"Not this again..."
"Barty! He's your son!"
Mrs. Crouch was on the verge of tears, while Barty pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Are you done yet?"
"Why won't you help your own son?"
It came out barely a whisper and yet it felt as if it echoed throughout the dining room.
"What he did was wrong."
"Wrong? Wrong? He made a mistake! He-he's only a child! He never meant to do what he did! I-i-it was those friends of his! He's a good boy!"
By then Mrs. Crouch had risen from her seat, tears streaming down her face as she shouted at her husband. Barty had suddenly found something interesting in his meal that he focused on cutting his meat and pretended not to have heard what she had shouted.
Mrs. Crouch slowly crumbled back to her seat, calming her sobbing and wiping her face with the back of her hand. She sniffled and took shaky breaths,
"You know, there is no creature on earth half as terrifying as a truly just man." her voice was calm, especially for a person who was shouting moments before.
Barty paused in his actions. He leaned back and looked at his wife, he tried to open his mouth to say something but nothing came.
A just man would let his only child rot in prison to atone for the crimes his child had done. A just man would ignore his wife's tears. A just man would do what is right, even if it hurts.
But the thing was, Barty Crouch Senior was not a just man. Not truly.