10
MERLIN'S Beard, but she really was quite a pretty little witch, Barty Crouch Jr. thought, eyeing their newest recruit with an interested gleam in his twinkling dark brown eyes.
When he had started following the movements of the young witch with the light ash brown hair, he had never dreamed that another witch, a Metamorphmagus, no less, would end up catching his eye instead.
It took the man a few weeks of following her from a distance, watching whenever she would leave the Malfoy estate with Severus Snape, of all people, to slowly edge closer and closer to the girl, close enough to realize that their newest recruit looked rather familiar.
It had not been his intent to allow his interests to change to the girl, for his attention had solely been focused on his one obsession, the one witch that he could never have because Alice Prewitt had always been his.
"Frank," he sneered, the edges of his lips curling upwards in a twisted smirk as he causally followed the bright young witch at a safe distance.
Upon learning their newest recruit was a Metamorphmagus, a rarity in the wizarding world, his interest in the young woman had soared to new levels, his obsession with the girl growing until he thought he would burst.
You could almost imagine his delight upon learning that the Dark Lord had assigned Crouch Jr. to monitor what the girl did in her free time and to make things truly delish, had assigned him to work alongside Miss Tonks in order to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic at their convenience.
Tonight was to be the night that he would break into the Auror's bedroom in Lucius's home and took the girl where she rightfully belonged. Oh, but she was a Metamorphmagus and he could have so much fun with this one.
A witch of Nymphadora Tonks' talents deserved to stand alongside a man of power, a man like himself, not one of Severus's skills. Besides, for a man who claimed to be her partner, the greasy-haired, sallow-faced git was certainly never around much when she seemed to need him.
In fact, no one within the walls of Malfoy Manor might notice she was gone. In all of the time that Barty Crouch Jr. had been intently watching, studying his newest potential plaything like a research project, he had not seen Nymphadora Tonks converse with Severus Snape even once.
It was sad for the woman's sake, he thought, giving his head a curt shake to clear it, but it was going to make Barty's job all that easier for him.
All he would have to do is sneak in the back door—or the front. Neither was secured, and neither was locked, considering the Malfoys and the Dark Lord permitted their fellow Death Eaters within the ranks to come and go as they pleased.
And as for Tonks, while jumpy and on edge, did not seem too particularly concerned at the idea of visitors in the house.
She really was a strange material of beauty, this witch. A beauty, but entirely too naïve and trusting for her own Merlin-damned good, he knew. Nymphadora Tonks, Bellatrix Lestrange's niece, was easily the prettiest thing to look at during the Dark Lord's meetings these days, and from the moment the brunette witch had accidentally locked gazes with Crouch, her pale gray orbs that resembled the last dying ashes of a wildfire had ensnared Lord Voldemort's top-ranking lieutenant and held him captive.
So much so that Crouch was willing to go the distance for Tonks. The fact that this witch was trusting was something of a contradiction, considering she was a fully-fledged Auror and a member of Professor Dumbledore's pathetic Order of the Phoenix.
This was going to be easy.
Not that it would have stopped me anyway, Crouch thought wickedly.
It would be easy enough to sneak into the young Auror's room, cast a Muffliato Charm on the closed door of her bedroom to ensure no one heard a thing, then he would drug this pretty little witch with a powerful Sleeping Draught that he'd soak into a cloth and put over her mouth and nose—it would take a few minutes for the potion to take effect, but she would be out for a good long while following that, and Crouch could take her back to his house, and then he would really begin to have fun with her. It was going to be easy.
Walking up the back steps of the Malfoy manor and opening the door, Crouch Jr. was feeling in a particularly fine mood this evening, a fine mood indeed, that he shoved his trembling hands into the pocket of his trench coat and began to whistle a jovial little tune.
Certain that if anything, the noise might just happen to pique this pretty little witch's curiosity and lure her out of her little hiding spot.
Crouch felt confident that Nymphadora Tonks, given her training as a seasoned Auror by this point in his life, despite her young age and youthful appearance, would be more curious than scared by the sound of his arrival.
Barty Crouch Jr. considered himself a man who would do whatever was necessary to achieve the desired results, and never one to do much of anything without showing his flair for the dramatics, Barty knew that he did not want to catch the witch wholly off her guard this fine evening.
He wanted Tonks to see him, to know she was in trouble with him before Crouch as so much set even a single finger on that petite little body. As he strolled aimlessly down the dank, dimly lit hallways of the corridor of the second floor of Lucius Malfoy's home once he'd climbed the stairwell in search of the girl's bedroom, he took a tiny vial out of the pocket of his black trench coat and licked his lips to moisten them eagerly.
It contained the essence of Sleeping Draught he planned to drug the girl with if she did not cooperate and choose to come with him willingly.
With his free hand not clutching onto the vial, Barty waved his wand and procured a small cloth, conjuring one from thin air before stowing his wand back into his jacket pocket, covering it in the truly potent potion mix.
Crouch continued his cheerful whistling as he made his way towards his plaything's bedroom, his excitement welling within his chest with each step forward that he took.
He was rewarded for his effort a moment later. When sure enough, just as the top-ranking Death Eater had predicted, the whistling, and perhaps combined with the noise of his footsteps as well, was enough to draw the Auror out of her bedroom from the other side, slowly opening the door and poking her head through in suspicion.
Barty Crouch Jr. resisted the urge to break into one of his trademark, unnaturally wide Cheshire-Cat like grins and roll his eyes as he watched as Tonks let out a small shaking breath, freezing in her tracks, staring with wide, almond-shaped, pale gray orbs back at Crouch's presence in the hall.
It was evident by the look of stunned surprise on her pale, heart-shaped face that the young woman had not been expecting to see him.
She looked…different today. These days, she was wearing her hair much shorter, in a stylish pixie with bangs that just grazed the tops of her brows.
Easier to keep out of the way while working, she claimed, when a random passerby last week had inquired after the change, though Crouch wasn't fooled so easily.
He knew the girl had done it to ward off unwanted advances from the other male Death Eaters, though it was not about to work on the likes of him.
Far from it, in fact. Her mouth hung open slightly as she gaped, clearly at a loss for words.
This time, Crouch did allow a brief smirk to flit across his pale, handsome, but gaunt features as his brown eyes twinkled as he spread his arms out wide.
"No questions for me tonight, Miss Tonks?" Here, he laughed at her. "You are quite fine with welcoming me into your room tonight?"
Tonks furrowed her delicately shaped thin eyebrows together in a frown as she swallowed down hard and merely proceeded to glare at Crouch as though the man had sprouted devil horns on top of his head.
She shook her head slightly.
"Wh—what are you doing here, Crouch?" she breathed, her pale gray eyes widening in fear as she continued staring. "I—I don't really know you, Crouch, so why would I let you in my room?"
Crouch's smirk widened, his excitement in his chest surging as adrenaline in his bloodstream.
"That you do not, my dear." He clucked his tongue in mock disappointment and carded his fingers through his thick tuft of dark brown hair, his fingers sticky every which way as they entangled themselves in his thick hair, coming away sticky as he lowered his hands to his side before shoving them in the pockets of his trench coat.
"What is it that you want, Crouch?" The woman furrowed her brow and stuck out her lip in a slight pout. "Is there something I can help you with? Did the—the Dark Lord send for me? Is that why you are here?"
She let out a gasp of surprise and stepped back, almost stumbling over the hem of her long black lace dress as Barty Crouch Jr. stepped forward, cornering the young woman back into her bedroom with no other escape.
"No, darling. The Dark Lord has assigned us on a mission, love," Crouch shrugged, well aware that he was bloody lying through his teeth. "We'll be spending a fair bit of time together over the next few days, and I'm a friend of your family, darling, so to speak, so, please. Call me Barty."
Nymphadora Tonks's eyebrows rose in a sense of disbelief, though there was no denying the look of curiosity that his statement had caused.
"Friend of the family? You know my mum and dad, Mr. Crouch?" she scoffed, and Barty Crouch Jr. almost laughed out loud at the Auror's naivety and innocence.
The child, this poor sweet child had no idea of his intentions. So naïve of her, was it in fact, that Crouch had to throttle his urge to roar like an enraged Hungarian Horntail.
It made him want to grab the girl by her shoulders and shake her for her blatant stupidity. How the bloody hell by the seven hells below could she have managed to pass Auror training if anybody had ever taught her not to trust random strangers.
Why was this grown adult witch so stupidly trusting so Merlin-damned bloody fast? What in the seven bloody hells was wrong with this woman? How gullible was this witch?
Briefly, he wondered how old she was. She didn't look older than maybe twenty-five or six at best. Old enough to know better.
Barty Crouch Jr. turned his head to the side to cough in order to disguise the laugh that threatened to escape from his lips if he didn't watch himself more closely, lest he gives away his true intentions prematurely.
"No, darling, I don't know your parents, no," Crouch laughed, gesturing around Tonks's simple bedroom in Malfoy Manor. "Though I have heard…things, of Ted and Andromeda Tonks from the Lestranges."
Tonks closed her lips and swallowed down hard past a lump in her throat as it hollowed and constricted, sticking out her lower lip in a pout. It made her look so young and innocent…like a spoiled child. A brat.
Crouch heaved a tired sigh.
"I merely thought that, if the Dark Lord is going to pair us together on an upcoming mission that you and I could…get to know each other better as…partners. Don't you think that would be a good idea, darling?" Barty offered, wondering if he could paint a decent enough picture to get some small semblance of cooperation out of this pretty little witch that was of current interest to him.
He had not planned on using his powers of persuasion tonight when he found Tonks, but there was a part of Barty that supposed, in the end, it couldn't hurt.
It would be satisfying enough, he knew, to manipulate the young woman in this way, to gain her trust rather than forcing his hand at this.
A pause in Tonks's response was nothing that Crouch could have hoped for, though if she wanted to prove to Barty that she wasn't stupid, then she would endorse his offer and allow him an entry in her room right now, or else.
"I—I don't believe you, Barty," Tonks breathed, shaking her head, and shrinking back slightly, swallowing as she realized Crouch had literally backed her into the corner of her room. "You need to leave, or I'll—"
"Or what?" he snorted. "You'll scream? Like a frightened little girl? Don't make me laugh, darling. You're a fully grown woman and an Auror. Don't be so immature, sweetheart, this behavior does not suit you at all. Like it or not, sweet thing, the Dark Lord paired us together on a mission. If you don't believe him, ask him yourself. Roll up your sleeve. Call him."
But Tonks, Merlin damn this woman and her stubborn streak, as feisty as he found it to be and charming, Crouch Jr. was also an impatient man, and eager to get her to come with him of her own volition to avoid a scene, pointedly shook her head no.
"I don't need to call him. Please just go. Leave me alone," she whispered, clearly scared and nervous, knowing she was in no position right now to be making demands of one of Voldemort's top lieutenants.
"You're lucky it was me who came along and informed you of this news and not someone who could really hurt you, sweet little dove," Crouch growled as he narrowed his darkening brown eyes, enjoying the growing fear within the young witch's pale gray orbs as they widened.
The Death Eater found it was relatively easy enough to make the witch uncomfortable, to scare Nymphadora Tonks with a mere sentence.
He snorted and glanced around her room with feigned interest, gesturing towards the wide-open door with a sweeping flourish.
"You know, you should really learn to lock your doors when you're here all by yourself. Anyone else could have come in, and how…fortunate you are, Miss Tonks, that I happened to be stopping by the house anyways to speak to old Lucius about something, instead of someone within the Dark Lord's ranks truly horrible and vicious. Like Lestrange or Rosier," he commented, a chill wafting down his spine.
Tonks's gray orbs widened in understand as she took in a shaking breath, protectively folding her arms over her chest before grabbing at the skirts of her black lace dress, as though she thought that might ward off any attack.
Not that it was going to do the pretty witch any good.
Barty almost laughed at the futile effort with which she was going to protect herself, as the girl stumbled and tripped over herself, folding her arms across her chest as she shrank further down in the corner, and while Barty Crouch Jr. hadn't meant it as such, he wasn't opposed to it.
If it got the Auror to cooperate and come with him willingly, no fuss, then all the better. He continued in his languid voice as smooth as silk.
"It would have been so bloody easy, Tonks," Crouch continued, narrowing his dark brown eyes as he took in the girl's changed look.
Her hair was shorter, he noticed, causing her to look more like Alice Longbottom nee Prewitt than ever, and Crouch decided he liked it. A lot.
The woman's hair was cut short tonight in a neat and stylish pixie, her hair a light ash brown, though he knew with her Metamorphmagus abilities, she could easily change it darker, and then she'd look like her.
"You'll only wind up hurt, Auror Tonks, if you don't come with me willingly." Crouch paused for a moment for effect, raising his wand and pointing it squarely at the young witch's chest before she could lift hers.
Barty shot the young witch an apologetic look for what he was about to do to her, silently trying to plead with his eyes for her to forgive him, in time, if Lord Voldemort was going to pair the two of them to work together.
He had specifically requested Crouch keep an eye on her, after all, make sure their newest young witch did nothing too rash, truly.
"Love, I'm really terribly sorry about this next part. I truly am." And he did sound remorseful, though it did not stop him from raising his wand and pointing it again squarely at the girl's chest. "Immobilus!"
Tonks' teeth gnashed together as her jaw locked and her entire body went stiff and rigid, and Crouch supposed he ought to have been grateful that the bed was right behind her as the young witch with the light ash brown pixie cut toppled into a heap on top of her mattress.
The witch made a muffled strangled noise at the back of her throat, though the spell which would last upwards of a few precious minutes at best, rendered her unable to speak.
But it was just enough time for him to subdue her, and then he could take Miss Tonks back to his home.
Crouch swiftly removed the vial and drug-soaked cloth down over Nymphadora Tonks' face, silently musing that it truly was remarkable, how, with just a few modifications in a little while when the girl was better rested and woke up, she would look like the one who'd got away.
"This all could have been avoided, sweet thing, if you had come with me quietly of your own volition. You know how I loathe using force against a woman, especially a delicate little dove like you."
Here, Barty clucked his tongue in mock disappointment as he shook his head.
Nymphadora Tonks made a noise that sounded like a muted whine.
"Breathe in, darling. That's it. Deep, calm breaths. It's not going to hurt you, little dove. I swear it. It'll just make you…go to sleep awhile."
His tone was surprisingly gentle and calm, though his words, he could tell by the woman's panicked eyes, were not having a calming effect on Tonks.
Barty laughed softly to himself, honestly enjoying the woman's struggles, her fears, her pathetic whimpering noises at the back of her throat.
He wondered what he'd do with his new 'Alice' when at last he had her alone and all to himself. What then? What to do?
"Shh," Barty soothed, pressing his hand down over the cloth harder, making sure the drenched cloth doused in Sleeping Draught was right up against the young Auror's nose, making sure his new Alice got a good strong dosage as he let go of the witch's wrist and stroked her short hair. "Don't panic, darling. You're all right," Crouch promised in gentle tones.
Again, Tonks attempted to speak and the spell combined with the effects of the Sleeping Draught she was currently inhaling and a bit was trickling down her open mouth, the potent potion doing its intended job, but all she could manage was a pitiful groan of anger, a mew of fear.
"Shush now. That's it, darling. I told you not fighting it would be in your best interests. Don't fight what's happening. Go to sleep, Alice…"
He moved his hand down to graze the pads of his fingers across her collarbones, relishing at how soft and smooth her skin felt against his palm.
Barty waited patiently for a moment more until the young woman seemed to have passed out completely before tearing the cloth away from her face and gingerly, as though he were handling the most precious of china, gathered his new little plaything into his arms bridal style, her head lolling back against the crook of his arm.
Barty exhaled in frustration and exertion, stuffing the potion-drenched cloth back into the pocket of his black leather trench coat.
He sincerely hoped he didn't want to have to resort to this kind of tactic against her a second time once he got her back to his estate.
Though if this little interaction was any indication as to the Auror's feisty personality, then the poor little slip of a thing might fail to comprehend the value of the meaning of the word 'cooperation.'
He sighed. He didn't like to think it, but Barty might very well have to drug the witch again to keep himself from seriously hurting Nymphadora.
Alice, his conscience corrected himself. Once you…convince her…to make the necessary changes, she isn't Nymphadora Tonks anymore, but your Alice.
And oh, but Merlin, how sweet that time would be when it came.
When his eyes were open, ever since this witch's induction into the Order of the Phoenix, though they were not brown like his Alice's eyes, he knew Metamorphmagus' could change every aspect of their appearance at will, and when she woke up, she'd change them back.
The Auror would change her eyes to brown and her short pixie to black and make it just a tad longer and wavy. Or else.
He stifled a growl as he swiftly carried her outside the back entrance of Lucius Malfoy's manor, turning on the heel of his boot and Disapparating with his newest plaything, his future wife, in his arms.
But Merlin, he could practically feel his hands running through her short black, soft hair right now, and—No!
There would be time for that later when she was awake. He cursed himself through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as they Apparated to his destination. His home.
Barty glanced down at the unconscious young woman in his arms.
The resemblance between this new girl and Alice was almost unfathomable. Uncanny, really, how much Nymphadora looked like his Alice. Alice had Crouch wound around his little finger, and she didn't even know it.
"My darling little bride, you'll make a lovely little wife to continue my pureblood legacy," he murmured softly, shifting the witch in his strong arms to distribute her weight better evenly. He could not help but notice, furrowing his brows, how thin and emaciated the girl was.
She needs feeding up, he thought darkly. She wasn't eating enough, though he had no time to dwell on it as he made his way up the walkway and through the double doors of his family's estate, passed onto him after his father's 'untimely' demise.
Everything here was laced with the biting feeling of cold. The bitter air hung in the desolate empty space.
Long dark shadows slinked along the tall walls of the Crouch's estate's simplistic living room from the many scattered candles throughout the room that someone, probably Winky, if he had to hazard a guess, had lit during his absence.
His coat clung to his body uncomfortably. The leather fabric felt heavy, his body feeling strangely fatigued and weak despite the adrenaline from his moment alone with 'Alice' still coursing through his veins.
Barty Crouch Jr. stood with Nymphadora Tonks still in his arms in the living room as the seconds turned to minutes, the quietness around him thickening.
He reached up a hand and drug it down his face as he gingerly laid his new plaything down on the sofa, but not before ensuring the pillow he conjured for her was fluffed and a warm goose feather down blanket of the softest quality was draped over her fragile and too-skinny form.
The witch would be treated well, Lord Voldemort had commanded, considering her status as one of the most well-respected Aurors throughout the Ministry of Magic, there could be no telling what she could do for his ranks with her influence and her massive connections.
He would make sure of it, Crouch had promised the Dark Lord. Crouch stifled a growl of frustration as he perched himself in the armchair to the side of the sofa, hellbent on ensuring that his face would be the first thing that his sweet new love saw when she awoke in a while.
This was…his home.
Their home, he reminded himself, now that his lovely little dove was by his side, where she rightfully belonged.
The low crackling of the candles was almost little more than background noise for Barty, but somehow, for him at this moment, it was almost too loud to handle.
Perhaps it was less about the noise, he mused, and more so about the heat. The radiating warmth hit him like a heavy heated blanket.
He tended to favor the cold, but Alice, this celestial-like angel from heaven, deserved to live a life in the light and warmth, and so he would endure.
For her. Barty furrowed his brows as he glanced towards the sleeping form of 'Alice Prewitt.' She would be out a while. A few hours, at least.
He turned his gaze back towards the lighted candles on the mantlepiece of the living room's hearth. He'd always thought it impressive how such a small light could carry such incredible heat.
Everything was still. He was still. She was still, and then—
'Pop!' A sudden crack from a nearby candle startled Barty badly, and the waves of alarm hit the Death Eater hard and fast, and he had to resist the urge to plunge his hand into the interior pocket of his coat to draw his wand, thinking another Death Eater, lower rank, had followed him home and had come to take away his precious new prize.
Of which he could not allow, and Crouch almost growled in anger. The abrupt but small enough sound caused him to withdraw his tremoring hand back into himself once more, and the man cursed.
Well, that was one way admittedly to be brought back to earth. His hand curled into a fist and unfurled to clutch at his chest, seizing on a fistful of his black collared shirt.
A quick glance to the side confirmed that the noise hadn't woken Tonks, and then he cursed himself a second time, berating himself as he remembered she was still knocked out.
The soft fabric of his shirt tangled within his calloused and long, spindly piano-player fingers. Barty Crouch Jr. had always been easily startled throughout most of his life, but these days, his jumpiness and nervous demeanor seemed worse.
It was yet another reason why the Dark Lord had agreed to appoint Nymphadora Tonks as his partner.
To hopefully tame some of the jumpiness and get Crouch's attention back on track.
His hammering heart had just begun to slow down when he was finally able to draw in a full breath of air again.
His face twisted into a grimace as he shut his eyes tightly, before opening them again and turning to look at Alice's sweet sleeping form.
The young woman was in for a rather rude awakening when she woke up in an unfamiliar environment that was not Lucius Malfoy's home, though he had a good feeling she'd find his home much more suitable to her tastes and far more accommodating than Lucius was.
Barty licked his teeth nervously, a sheen of sweat perspiring on his browbone as he eyed the girl's slender, perfect, and petite figure.
He would have Alice all to himself, and Merlin damns any wizard that attempted to claim his partner and one day, his wife, from him.
"I'll set you free, my dear," he whispered, reaching out a trembling hand and swooping a lock of the bangs of her hair out of her eyes with such a gentle tenderness, much like a lover would, that he briefly wished she would wake up so that Alice could feel for herself how nice it felt.
A man's touch doesn't have to hurt, Alice, he promised her, though Crouch knew she could not hear it. I aim to make you see that, darling. No response, though Barty swore he saw her eyelids twitch a bit. Oh, you'll see. You will be mine.
Most would tell him he was crazy for allowing Alice Prewitt to get underneath his skin and make it crawl.
They had a saying in the wizarding community and amongst the Muggles alike.
That legend says men like Barty Crouch Jr., their hearts died in their chest cavities long ago, that they purified and made a heavy slime about their lungs as thick as underworld tar.
That's how they became killers and perhaps why. The witches of the north say their emptiness is their madness, that they take life over and over as if they may possess the hearts and souls, yet never so.
To be healed someone pure has to love each of them, to reform their heart as if it was the finest of clay, then set it to beating with pure nature's essence.
So, until they find such a being to forgive all that they have done, to break the universal scales and set them free to begin anew, the killing goes on.
Well, he would be healed, for he had found the one that would forgive all the wrong that he had done in this life, and then some, then.
His Alice would forgive him, of this Barty Crouch Jr. was certain. Crouch let out a sigh and restlessly crossed one leg over the other while he waited for the young witch to wake up. He wanted to see those eyes.
Alice had the loveliest pair of eyes, trimmed by long, gorgeous lashes.
Lovely eyes, innocent and pure, yet somehow gentle, that always held a tiny warmth within them, of which Barty knew he wanted to selfishly keep it for himself.
If it could be made possible to bottle that warmth and hoard it within a glass vial he could keep in his shirt pocket close to his chest, to his heart, then he would do it.
Florid, pale cheeks, lovely hair, and flawlessly sculpted, luscious pink lips, as if crafted by Merlin and the Muggle God themselves.
He could see her lips clearly, glistening attractively, even in sleep like this, with a light clear lip gloss that added a further sheen to her already healthy lips and only emphasized their fullness.
Crouch imagined biting her mouth until he drew blood and sucking from the wound, and how delish it would taste.
All these perfect features sat together on a delicate, almost angelic face. And the moment that his new bride woke up, she would be his.
Oh, such sweet, sweet bliss…
Ewww. I knew Voldemort would be sneaky and pair Tonks with Crouch to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic.
Though if anybody can be strong enough to handle Crouch's creepy obsession with Alice and Tonks' Metamorphing powers, it's Tonks herself. I know I did Crouch in Worth the Risk as having a fixation on "Alice" but I promise this time, it IS different & it doesn't repeat! Well, yes, it does a little bit in terms of Crouch having an obsession with Tonks, but I promise this story is drastically different than all my other Remadora fics!
Hopefully, Snape can manage to send her a message soon and let her know that despite the precarious position she finds herself in, now forced to work alongside Barty Crouch Jr. for a partner, that things are going to be all right.
Coming up in Chapter 11, Remus has a conversation with Snape of all people in the Three Broomsticks as he attempts to learn the whereabouts of his partner to save her life, but will Snape cooperate?
Stay tuned for more!