A/N: Round Five of the Quidditch League :) Fifth year fic of Barty Crouch JNR. Word count: 1234 – does NOT include A/N, and is taken from Open Office (may differ in Microsoft Word)

Prompts:

6. (word count) 1,234
8. (creature) Boggart
9. (dialogue) "I don't do well with snakes."
12. (phrase) return the favour
13. (word) ridiculous

The darkness rose around them, filling all available space until it felt as though even their lungs were consumed with black. Somewhere in the mist, a shape twisted and writhed. Soft sucking sounds hinted at suction caps on long, slimy tentacles, but without light it was impossible to verify. Rarely could the cold feel so oppressive, but the stagnant chill that emanated from the heart of this sudden obscurity made the room feel as though it were miles below the surface of a lake.

Even Barty was feeling a little uneasy, and it wasn't his monster to bear. Somewhere to the left of him he heard a muttered insult and something that sounded like a sharp kick to someone's shin. The recipient of the kick swore violently, following the oath with an almost sulky "riddikulus".

And then there was light. In front of the blackboard, holding a duster and a piece of chalk while dressed in a rather shapely set of lingerie, sat a giant squid. It looked about as bewildered as a squid could look, which was to say, it moved its tentacles slightly.

"You were so scared you couldn't even move," smirked Rabastan from the chair in front of Barty, where he sat with his feet up on the desk. "Pathetic."

"I was not," Rodolphus shot back indignantly. "Speak for yourself. I heard you whimper."

Rabastan laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh. Of all the snakes, Barty found Rabastan to be the most fascinating. The way his eyes narrowed as he laughed. The way his mouth quirked into a smile just before he cursed someone. Particularly, the way his mouth twisted further when he knew that no teacher could possibly be near enough to stop him.

Barty turned away quickly, back to the boggart at the front of the room. Bitterness twisted in his heart as he thought of what his father would say if he walked through the door right now. His only son, playing at third year magic when he should be spending his time studying for his O.W.L.s instead. Never mind that he could sit his O.W.L.s in his sleep.

But then, it wasn't really the magic that was the problem with this particular scenario, was it? It wasn't what he was doing that would bring about the frown that would marr his father's features, but rather who he was doing it with.

Recent memories tugged at his thoughts in a wholly unwanted intrusion: Ravenclaw's sniggering as they passed through the dungeons; Gryffindors sticking their fingers in their mouths like fake fangs and hissing at the sight of green and silver banners.

Since Barty was a Ravenclaw, no one hid their derision for the serpent house from him, even when they could see that his friends were all Slytherins. No other house rivalry was as vicious as it was between Slytherin and the other houses. No other houses competed with such contempt. With the Slytherins, it was us against them, and only a very few people made it across that dividing line.

But even though the Slytherins stood proud and alone, it didn't mean the rest of the school saw them that way. It had taken Barty far too long to realise that.

The girl stifled a giggle. Barty clenched his fingers tightly, digging his nails into his palms. What on earth had possessed him to ask her to Hogsmeade? She wasn't even that attractive. She just happened to be the only bloody Ravenclaw who didn't look at him like...

"I'm not sure," she said, an insincere smile on her face.

He unclenched his fingers. How was it that he had thought she was any kinder than the rest, again? He couldn't see a trace of it right now.

"Would it just be you and me?" she asked. "Or would your-" she paused, stifling another giggle, before emphasising the next word like a private joke, "friends be there?"

"What's wrong with my friends?" Barty asked tightly.

"Oh, nothing," she said, the insincerity on her face now infecting her voice. Too light, too happy. "I just, you know-" she cast a glance at her own friends who were hovering outside in the corridor. "I don't do well with snakes." No longer able to contain herself, she burst out laughing and ran from the classroom.

By now, Barty had seen the way Rabastan and the others were watched by the rest of the school. The snakes intimidated most, but others, like Potter, and Regulus's own brother, looked at them with ridicule.

He sneered, although the girl was long gone, and turned away.

Would his father be one of those who looked at them with scorn? Or would he fear them?

"You done playing with yourself, Crouch?"

Barty looked up to see Rabastan turned his way. Barty kept his features carefully neutral as those dark eyes pierced him. So far, he had avoided his turn with the boggart for reasons he couldn't decipher, but he had known that couldn't last.

"You done watching?" he shot back with a smirk, before standing up and walking over to the squid.

In his final few steps before facing the boggart, he felt a sudden and bizarre fear that the squid would transform into the shade of Rabastan, and that Rabastan's face would contort into revulsion when turned upon him.

He clenched his nails into his palm and stepped in front of the boggart. In a whisk of smoke, the boggart shifted to its new form.

Barty's father rose from the desk. "You disgust me," his father spat, more emotional than Barty had ever seen him. Crouch Senior took a step toward his son, his wand raised.

Barty froze, barely aware of his school mates around him, barely aware of anything but the face that loomed before his own.

"When are you finally going to live up to the man you could have been?" Crouch Senior continued as he took another step.

Barty flinched. At last he had the full attention of the one person who had always denied him, and he was stunned in the face of it.

"When will you prove to me that I haven't wasted galleons upon galleons on a snivelling little weakling? Or was I right all along? Don't you have the spine-"

Barty heard someone shift behind him. The hint of a snigger. A wand raising, ready to fire.

Barty whipped his wand out and screamed.

"Crucio!"

His father stumbled and fell. With a soft cry of shock he looked up at his son, his eyes bright with fear and pain.

In the stillness of the room, looking down upon that upturned face, Barty laughed. The boggart disappeared in a sharp crack of smoke. Behind him, Barty could only hear silence.

"You know, you're meant to turn it into something ridiculous," Rabastan finally said, his voice a low drawl. "That's why it's called riddikulus."

Barty turned to see approval in Rabastan's eyes. An emotion shot through him, strong and undefinable.

"My father is ridiculous," he said, his breathing still harsh from the strength of his curse. " He is a weak man who doesn't deserve the power he holds and who uses it to hurt those closest to him."

Rabastan stood, his mouth twisting until his lips were curved into the smile that Barty loved most of all. "Maybe one day soon you can return the favour."