Subject: Transfiguration
Task: Write about a person atoning for, or correcting past mistake/s.
Event: Scavenger Hunt
Clue: A pairing with your headmistress's favourite death eater, featuring a popular Black character who inscribed his initials at the end of a letter which ended up in Harry Potter's hands. Write about this pairing.
Word Count: 1898
To Change What Was
Barty's hand trembled as he held the gun, pointing it at the dark haired stranger.
He didn't know him, but he did know one thing: the man cowering in front of him didn't deserve this… he had done nothing wrong. He was just the man who was paying for someone else's mistakes.
Barty knew in his heart that he shouldn't be doing this.
He didn't really want to do this.
But he had to… otherwise his boss would be furious and kill him instead. And Barty didn't want to die.
"I'm sorry. Forgive me," he muttered, closing his eyes and pulling the trigger.
He flinched as the gun let off a loud 'BANG!' and dropped it next to him.
Barty's eyes fluttered open as he reached into his pocket for his camera. He felt sick to his stomach as he stared at the dead body in the alleyway; blood was pouring out of the wound in his chest. He was swallowed the bile that was rising in the back of his throat and, with shaking hands, he raised the camera and took a photograph.
He placed the camera back in his pocket, picked the gun up off the floor and ran as fast as he could away from the deserted alleyway.
~o~o~o~
"My Lord Tom," Barty said, kneeling before his boss who for some reason was holding a baby in his arms. "I completed the kill as requested."
"Your evidence?" the skeletal man asked, passing the infant in his arms to one of his guards and holding his hand out expectantly.
Barty reached into his pocket and handed over a copy of the photograph, which he had gotten developed at a nearby shop earlier, to the crime lord, keeping head bowed.
The silence in the room was deafening as Barty waited for his boss to say something… anything.
"You fool," Tom finally hissed, standing up and moving towards him. "This is not Sirius Black. This is some snivelling, pathetic scruffy man. Do you take me for an idiot?"
A hand struck his face hard.
"N—N—No," Barty stuttered. "I was sure. He fits the description I got perfectly. I—I—I'm sorry, My Lord."
"Sorry doesn't change the fact that Sirius Black is still roaming the streets," the towering man whispered. "You have twenty four hours to correct your mistake or else."
Barty nodded his head, not daring to move an inch.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Tom said, raising his voice slightly. "Time's a wastin'. Tick tock, tick tock."
Barty jumped to his feet. "Yes, Sir," he rushed out. "I won't let you down this time."
"You'd better not, Crouch."
Barty nodded his head and walked towards the door, his legs feeling like jelly. The only thought running around in his mind was about how he had killed the wrong man… he had taken a life for no reason. He had made a mistake.
That night Barty curled up in his bed, almost choking as he sobbed; all he could think about or see was the face of the nameless man he had murdered in cold blood. All he could hear was the gunshot as he pulled the trigger.
The guilt he felt over taking that man's life was ten times worse, knowing that it was no one's fault but his own that he was dead.
As he closed his eyes, slowly succumbing to exhaustion, he whispered, "I wish I could go back and change things."
~o~o~o~
Barty's phone chimed, alerting him to a message and awoke him from his fitful slumber. He stretched out and reached for it.
He opened up the message from his boss and squinted as he read it.
Target: Sirius Black.
Reason: Failure to pay debts inherited from his father.
Description: Shoulder length black hair, grey eyes, sullen looking. Generally seen sporting an unkempt look.
You will find him skulking around in alleyways in the middle of town.
Must be taken out TODAY!
Photographic evidence must be provided.
12 hours, Barty. Don't let me down.
Barty frowned at the familiarity of the message. It was exactly the same as the one he had received the day before… the day when he had killed the wrong person. Figuring that it was simply a 'friendly' reminder from his boss, Barty yawned and climbed out of bed to prepare himself for the day… he had a hit to carry out and he was determined to get it right this time.
~o~o~o~
Half an hour later, Barty was fully dressed and prepared for the day. He grabbed his camera which was on the nightstand even though he could have sworn he had left on the table night before. Barty shrugged his shoulders and figured his grief addled mind was playing tricks on him.
After double checking that he had everything he needed, Barty picked his keys up off the table and left his apartment.
As he went about his morning, Barty noticed a few eery similarities to the day before.
On his way to the supermarket, he saw the mailman having an argument with the woman down the street. And just outside the pub, there had been an accident involving a man on a motorcycle which was causing major delays on the road. And then he heard that a young man and woman had tragically lost their lives overnight… something about a home invasion gone wrong. The only light at the end of the tunnel was that their baby boy had survived and, according to gossip, he would be going to stay with a distant relative.
It was that last thing that made Barty stop at the nearest newspaper stand and look at the date on the front of today's paper: 1st November 1993.
No, that's impossible.
Just to be sure, Barty checked several other papers, but they all told him the same thing: today was yesterday which meant the man he had killed was still alive.
Barty placed the newspapers back onto the stand and carried on walking down the street in a daze as he tried to wrap his head around the idea that he was reliving the same day. Suddenly, his shoulder collided with something hard.
"Sorry," he muttered, glancing up at the person he had bumped into.
No, it couldn't be, could it? Could fate be giving him a chance to change what was? Could fate be giving him a chance to atone in some small way for his deed?
"S'kay," the man answered. "Wasn't looking where I was going."
"Neither was I," Barty said, forcing a laugh as he shifted on the spot.
What should I say? Barty thought. Sorry I killed you. No, that wouldn't do.
He took in the man's appearance for a moment, something he hadn't done in the alleyway. He looked as though he had been sleeping rough for weeks. His clothes were filthy and holey and hung off him. Barty wondered when this man had last eaten, had a wash or a good night's sleep.
"Do you want to come back to mine?" Barty found himself asking, knowing he couldn't very well leave this man in such a state.
The man in front of him frowned at him and took a step back.
"What do you take me for?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Do you think I'm some kind of rent boy?
"No, no," Barty refuted. "I just thought you looked like you could do with a wash and a change of clothes. Perhaps a bit food and a hot drink."
"So you think I'm a smelly, scruffy, starving rent boy?"
"No," Barty mumbled.
"Well, you couldn't afford me anyway," the man commented.
"Okay, how about we start again?" Barty requested, finding himself becoming increasingly intrigued by this man. "My name is Barty Crouch. Can I buy you a coffee?"
"Regulus Black," the man answered. "And just so you know, I'm not a cheap date so if you want to get me into bed you'll have to do more than buy me a drink."
Barty blushed at the thought of Regulus and him in bed together and all the things he could do to him.
No, you're only going to help him.
"Come on, I know this great little coffee shop around the corner," Barty said. "And if you're lucky, I might even buy you some cake."
Barty noticed how Regulus eyed him suspiciously.
"Oh, come on," he said encouragingly. "What have you got to lose? It's not as though I'm a serial killer."
"Okay," Regulus agreed. "Just coffee. No funny business."
~o~o~o~
Barty found himself enjoying Regulus' company more than he anticipated. And, if he wasn't mistaken, Regulus seemed to like being with him. They had so many shared interests and goals. It was hard for Barty to believe that this man was homeless and the same faceless stranger he had killed. Before he knew it, the sky outside had darkened and his phone, which he was ignoring, was vibrating non-stop in his pocket.
"Hey, I know you said no earlier," Barty started, "but, now you know me better, would you like to come back to mine and clean yourself up?"
Please say yes, Barty thought, knowing that this was his best chance to really improve this man's life… the man he was sure he was already half in love with.
"I don't know…" Regulus said. "What if this is all part of your master plan to get me into bed?"
"Would that be so bad?" Barty asked.
"No, I suppose it wouldn't," Regulus answered with a smile.
"So, should we get out here?" Barty suggested, standing up and offering Regulus his hand.
Regulus immediately took Barty's outstretched hand and stood up, and together they left the coffee shop hand in hand.
When they reached the apartment, Barty handed Reglus some towels and a set of clean clothes. He explained to him the mechanics of how his shower worked, knowing that many of his previous overnight guests had had issues with it before.
As he heard the shower turn on, Barty pulled his phone out and found that he had a string of missed calls and texts from his boss. He scrolled through them, briefly reading each one before coming to the final one.
Tom: Barty, did you get the target or not? I do not like to be kept waiting. ANSWER ME, YOU FOOL!
Barty bounced up and down on his feet as he thought about what he should say: Sorry, my Lord, I got caught up charming the pants off the man I killed by accident last time I lived today.
He couldn't say that. Eventually, after pondering for a few minutes, he decided a half truth would be have to suffice.
Barty: Target could not be located today. Will double my efforts tomorrow, my Lord.
It didn't take long for the his boss to reply.
Tom: You better had, or you're dead meat.
Barty gulped. He didn't want to die. Not wanting to keep his boss waiting, Barty quickly typed out a reply and hit send.
Barty: Absolutely, my Lord.
When his phone didn't vibrate again, he placed it on the table in front of him, feeling apprehensive about what tomorrow would bring. One thing he did know, although he didn't know how or why, was that he had changed what was and had a drop dead gorgeous man naked in his shower.
