Hello!
Thank you to everyone for the comments and follows!
Just a short little update for you today!
I hope you enjoy it!
Love Zed x
The rhythmic thump, clack, thump, clack of his gait preceded him through the dark echoing stone hallways. The inmates shrunk back into the darkness of their cells, he noticed with grim satisfaction.
Shining silver wisps twisted around his form as a spectral lynx padded alongside. It's caster, Kingsley Shacklebolt, kept pace behind, warily eyeing their surroundings.
The disgusting chill in the air, and the faint hint of rattling breaths really added to atmosphere.
"Love what they've done with the place." Alastor commented gruffly.
Kingsley hummed lowly, eyes sweeping back and forth, his wand held firmly in his hand.
Alastor nodded in satisfaction, now there was a man who understood 'constant vigilance'.
"Might get me a summer place," He paused at a courtyard, eye swivelling rapidly, "lets go look at the views."
Kingsley's face twisted, trying to hold back a laugh or a grimace, it was hard to tell.
They made their way through collapsed and rotting ruins, black cloaked spectres flicking at the edge of their vision, until they reached the graves.
"Keep watch lad, I've got this."
Kingsley nodded, and then spun in place continuing his vigil over the bleak landscape. His glowing companion steady at his side.
Face grim, he began making his way carefully through the jagged stone headstones. Each one roughly carved and covered with lichen and grime.
Bartemius Crouch Junior's stone wasn't hard to find. It was one of the newer ones, newer meaning less than ten years old. The weather hadn't quite worn away the original colour or the writing upon its surface.
He cast a cursory glance at the name, before his artificial eye stared down into the coffin.
Fuck.
That was definitely not a six-foot-tall man.
Pulling a roll of parchment from within his coat, and with a vicious stab of his wand, he cast an identify spell on the corpse below.
Female.
Caucasian.
154 centimetres.
63 years old.
Shit it all to buggering hell.
He shuffled his way back to Kingsley and roughly shoved the parchment into his hand.
"Looks like we've got some digging to do." He chuckled nastily, "Lets get started."
A small beetle scurried through grass, it's little wings buzzing as it launched itself onto the high stone walls surrounding a, largely overgrown, courtyard garden. Scuttling along, through the uneven stones, it descended the other side and alighted on a windowpane.
Most of the house was completely hidden behind high stonewalls and overgrown bushes, this was in fact the only window that allowed any kind of view of the inside. Even the upper floors were swamped in ivy, making it very difficult to see inside.
And the beetle should know, the beetle checked.
Rita had been staking out the Crouch residence for nearly a week, she felt like one of those muggle police, and had managed to find this little spot after hours of fruitless searching.
It was almost like Crouch had something to hide.
Her antenna vibrated, picking up on movement within the main room. The elf, Winky she had learned, was pottering about as she usually did muttering to herself.
Rita clicked her mandibles together, wings buzzing under her carapace. She moved along the windowsill, before carefully scuttering up the brickwork to get a better view into the house.
She had noticed, that the elf would keep up a constant stream of speech, usually quite softly spoken. But occasionally, she would speak louder as though speaking to somebody else.
Winky was moving with purpose today, setting up the radio, placing a tray of cakes and sandwiches on a low table, fluffing the cushions perfectly on the nearby sofa. The elf then disappeared down the hallway.
This was it, Rita could feel it, there was something in the air she could almost taste. It was the same vibrations that lead her to other scandals, a kind of secret sixth sense. And it was thrumming through her body today.
It was a few moments later that Winky returned, her arm held awkwardly up, hand gripping onto nothing as she made her way across the room.
When she reached the sofa, the elf twisted about moving her arms in sweeping open movements. Then the cushions indented.
If she had not been a beetle, Rita would have let out an unholy screech of satisfaction. As it was, her wings vibrated and she did a little wiggle dance.
Winky began pouring a cup of tea and then, with a click of her fingers, removed the invisibility cloak. For it could be nothing else that slid from the body of Barty Crouch Junior, as he accepted tea from the elf.
Rita recognised him instantly of course, even if he was a bit older. His hair was neatly trimmed, he wore tailored robes, and he looked healthy.
Then his face became visible as he gazed around the room. His eyes were unfocused, staring into nothing as he tried to drink the tea. Tried because he missed his mouth completely and Winky had to hold the cup to his lips.
Rita watched as the evening went on and felt sick to her stomach.
The elf had to hand feed him, hold him upright, check he chewed everything before letting him swallow. It didn't even seem that Barty junior heard the radio when she put it on. Every time he tried to get up, or move on his own, the elf manoeuvred him back into position and told him to be a good boy.
This was wrong.
This was inhuman.
Even a criminal had rights and didn't deserve to be…
It was quite clear to Rita that Crouch had imperioused his own son and was keeping him…
Keeping him just Like Bertha.
Fuck him.
Fuck this.
Rita flew away into the night, wings buzzing, mandibles clicking, staying in her Animagus shape lest she scream.
Time to meet with Madam Bones.