15
THE next two hours in Crouch's home was a trying time for the man. He kept a silent vigil by Alice's side, refusing food or drink from Winky when his house-elf brought it.
Crouch barely registered the creature's presence in the room alongside him then.
He didn't know how long he sat by her bedside, though the second he heard Alice's sweet voice, he knew something was wrong.
Her sweet voice did not sound like his Alice at all, but the voice coming from her was a strained voice.
"No," Alice groaned, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut. Her breaths quickened but did not deepen, suggesting she was dreaming. "Don't go," she begged some unseen tormenter that Crouch wished he could kill for causing Alice to suffer like this. "Please don't leave me," Alice pleaded softly as she twisted in sleep.
Crouch grew hopeful, a surging warmth spiraling its way through his chest, but then his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Alice wasn't waking up. She was delirious. It seemed that her mind's eye was giving her visions of Longbottom who'd left.
He was certain she was dreaming of her husband, that bastard who did not deserve a celestial-like creature like this young pretty witch as his wife. What kind of man would abandon their own wife to fend for herself in the Forbidden Forest, where anything could have happened, and in Alice's case, almost did happen to her?
Crouch ground his teeth together but shook his head to himself. He would not blame her for this. She couldn't be held responsible for what her mind's eye saw in her nightmares. Then, Alice spoke again, her voice sounding fainter and weaker than before, and it chilled his bones.
"Barty? Where are you?" she pleaded. For a fraction of a second, her eyes flew wide open. She peered at him through a hazy blue fog as her eyes had clouded over in her delirium. "Barty, please don't leave me," she begged urgently. "Barty, don't leave…"
Part of Barty wanted to soar and would have if he weren't still so concerned and worried for her health.
It was his name she called out for in her deepest hour of need, not her husband's.
He let himself smirk triumphantly at that for just a second. Frank Longbottom was as far from her mind as the most distant reaches of the Forbidden Forest were from them right now. Her husband would never find his Alice. All Crouch ever wanted was to ease Alice's fears.
Crouch couldn't quite comprehend why, even in Alice's most feverish nightmare, why she was doubting that her best friend, and hopefully in time, more than that, would ever leave her side. His eyes rested on her face, and his heart lurched.
Tears poured endlessly from her tightly closed lids, flowing across her pale but grey-tinged cheeks and down the gentle, graceful slope of Alice's temple. Her color resembled that of dying ashes from a fire, the healthy rosy glow startlingly absent.
The delicate skin of Alice's brow was pulled taut across the bone in the throes of her disturbed sleep, her expression filled with a mixture of pain, horror, and utter heartbrokenness that he wished he could heal. A result of hidden glimpses behind closed lids he could not see. Her breaths hitched in uneven intervals, sending her body into wracking quivers, feeble mewls of unplaced fear and denial was ripped from her delicate, blue-tinged lips.
The pit in Crouch's stomach filled with a seething anger at the thought that Alice should have chosen to marry him, not Longbottom.
He was certainly handsome, wealthier, would provide for Alice better than old Frank ever could. He blamed Frank for the fear and uncertainty that was plaguing Alice's mind in the midst of her dream and made it impossible to rest in the security of his own love for her when she needed that belief right now more than ever.
Crouch swore he wasn't going to leave Alice's side, no matter what. He was just going to have to prove to the witch that his own love was the love upon which she could depend on. Not Frank's. But his. Just his….
"Al? I'm here." He swallowed a lump in his throat and angrily blinked back disgusting tears, turning his head away sharply to the right in case she woke so she wouldn't see his tears. "I'm not leaving you. I'm right here where I'm sitting, Alice. I'm not anywhere else."
His shaking fingers reached out to tenderly stroke her face, but the act only worsened his anger and despair. Her cheeks were still tinged grey but were now flushing a horrible bright crimson. Alice's skin was searing hot to the touch.
"Snape!" he bellowed urgently, his dark eyes going wide with horror and shock. "SNAPE!" he roared again at the top of his lungs.
Severus, who'd just been about to come and check on Longbottom as it was, appeared in the doorway in an instant, Winky following close behind at his heels.
Barty urgently whirled around to face the Death Eater and his family's house-elf, and then quickly back to Alice. "She's got a fever. She's burning up, Snape!" he yelled.
Severus's face remained impassive as always, though he quickened his pace and moved so fast in his haste to appear at Crouch and Alice's side, the man was little more than a black blur for a half of a second. Snape rolled up his sleeves slightly as he felt Alice's forehead, smoothing her bangs off of her clammy forehead. Crouch was right in that Longbottom was running a very high fever, no doubt a result of the infection.
Severus pulled the blanket back and lifted the shirt that Crouch had found for her after his initial surgery. It was a little too big for her and hung off her thin frame, though Crouch's only concern was her comfort. He inspected the laceration carefully with a highly trained and keen eye, his face growing grim.
"Just as I thought. The wound is infected, Crouch." Severus's already lined forehead wrinkled as he squinted against the dim light of Crouch's spare bedroom.
He peered at Alice's collarbones. The incision that he had created in the hopes of draining the poison near the worst slash mark that was just to the edge of her right breast was already beginning to fester. Yellow, green, and black puss glistened slickly around the wound.
Snape crinkled his nose as bile rose in his throat, and out of the corner of his peripherals, he saw Crouch's already pale face pale a shade further and turn green. A long band of red radiated outward from her stitches that he and Winky had painstakingly enchanted to close up against these cursed slash markings and painted the skin down her breast, staining her new shirt. Severus straightened his posture in an urgent way after examining Longbottom's wife. He replaced the shirt that covered her, but yanked the blanket from the king-size bed, leaving her legs and arms exposed to the cool air of the dark spare bedroom just then.
Gesturing with a curt wave of his arm to Crouch's house-elf, he addressed Barty.
"I need to treat the infection, but the elf and I are going to have to work to bring her fever down first," Snape calmly told Barty as Winky almost tripped in her terrified haste to appear at the man's side.
"Bring sheets, and buckets of cold water," Severus ordered Crouch's elf, as Winky was already running on her heels to comply, darting out of the room so fast the little creature was a blur, though they heard her fretting about Crouch's "Young Miss."
Severus turned towards Barty, who half-rose from his perch on the edge of the bed. "I'll return here shortly," Severus calmly informed Crouch in a collected manner that almost made the man want to throttle him.
How could he stand here beside his Alice being so calm and collected like this?
But Snape continued before Crouch could say anything. "I need to mix the remedies. This is not something that will be easy to treat, Crouch, but it can be done."
Crouch could only gape at Severus, his thoughts overwhelmed with just Alice. He was unable to think of anything else, much less mutter a coherent reply towards Snape.
He could only nod as he stole a distressed glance towards the open doorway, hoping Winky would return and soon, or he would make short bloody work of the elf's fingers. He turned back to Severus and nodded as Severus turned on his heels and stalked his way out of Crouch's bedroom.
Crouch sank back down on his spot by the edge of the mattress, lost in the throes of his own worry and misery. He clung tight to Alice's bandaged hand, trying to will some of his own strength into her, to give her a lifeline. Merlin, but he needed to be brave for his Alice, but his own world was crumbling around him as her resolve and lifeforce seemed to be slipping from her.
Barty had always considered himself to be strong, fearless, afraid of nothing at all in this world. However, now, he felt anything but fearless. He brought his face to Alice's and thinking this might be his only chance, kissed her motionless lips. Resting his head next to hers, now it was his turn to beg her.
"Al," Crouch whispered in a pleading tone that cracked as he spoke the witch's nickname. "Please. Please don't leave me." His request almost sounded like a whispered prayer, and Crouch had never considered himself a religious man, though he would pray to Merlin Himself if it meant the timeless warlock would hear his pleas.
It was less than five minutes before Severus and Winky returned, but for Barty, it felt as though time itself had stopped. Winky was using her magic and scuttling as quickly into the bedroom as she could, causing two large buckets of cold water to float in midair alongside her, as well as a neatly folded pile of fresh linens that she carefully supervised and set upon a wooden table next to the side of the bed that magically appeared as Snape waved his wand.
Snape dunked the sheets into the buckets of water and began draping them over Alice's fevered body. Winky was right behind him clutching a small plastic bowl, what looked like a small knife that made Crouch's stomach lurch, and clean cloths. Snape set the bowl and bucket beside Alice's bed, and sliced open the edge of her shirt with the knife, much to Crouch's inappropriate chagrin as he gnashed his teeth. Only he should have the right to see Alice like this in such an intimate way, not Snape.
Barty almost let out a low vicious growl from the back of his throat before he had to remind himself that Snape was saving Alice.
Wiping the knife's blade on one of the clean clothes, Severus steeled himself, a muscle in his jaw twitching, as he began carefully scraping and cutting away the rancid parts of the wound on her collarbone. Even in her delirious and unconscious state, Alice's body started reacting to the pain.
She inhaled sharply and screamed in her sleep. Her eyes were squeezed shut tight and her face twisted and contorted in pain. She clawed and kicked out violently, screaming wildly as she fought against her invisible attackers of whatever dream was plaguing her mind.
Snape swore under his breath and struggled to catch one of her limbs, before waving his wand and a length of rope shot out from the tip, coiling themselves around her wrists to keep her immobile and from accidentally punching him or anyone else in sleep as he worked.
"STOP, Snape! You're hurting her!" Crouch roared and lunged at Severus, trying to stop his colleague from cutting away any more of Alice's diseased and blackened skin.
There was a loud, reverberating bang that echoed off the walls of the spare bedroom and Crouch felt himself sprawl backward and hit the opposite wall with a sickening thud. Snape had calmly drawn his wand and kept it pointed at Barty's chest. He remained focused and collected, though the hint of anger in the man's black irises was unmistakable. Severus slowly lowered his wand and turned back to Alice.
"Enough," he spat angrily through gritted teeth. "If you cannot control yourself, Crouch, then you cannot stay. You will leave. I have to clear away as much of the infection as possible, or it's going to poison her entire body, and then she is going to die from this." Snape spoke slowly and calmly, trying to make Crouch understand his reasonings.
Crouch bit the wall of his cheek and swallowed down past a lump in his throat and made a move as if to advance on Snape but stopped when he felt a tugging of his pants leg and a squeak reach his eardrums.
Glancing down, he stared at Winky, who was grunting with the sheer effort it took to restrain her master from lashing out in anger against the one man who could help her.
"Master, you's must let him work!" Winky demanded in a breathless squeak. "Please, Master Crouch! He knows what he is doing, young master. Master's Special Young Miss is very, very sick," Winky pleaded, upset.
Pacified at least a little by his house-elf's insistence, Crouch conceded and gave in and let Severus finish tending to Alice, although Crouch hovered over the taller man and watched Snape work like a hawk. Severus retrieved the bowl that Winky carefully perched on the wooden night table by the bed and laid it on the edge of the mattress alongside Alice. Forsaking the use of his wand, he used his own fingers to scoop out the thick, dark green, foul-smelling paste that it held, painting it over Alice's wounds.
The disgusting stench lingered in the air, causing Crouch to crinkle his nose and bile to rise in his throat, though he forced himself to swallow it back down and endure. Only when Snape was satisfied with his own literal handiwork did he dress the area with a clean cloth, waving his wand once so that the fabric was held in place by the concoction on top of her skin as he rebandaged it. When he'd finished, Severus pulled the cold damp sheet on top of Alice's chest and wetted down a few smaller linens.
He wrung them out over the bucket and folded them carefully, placing one behind her neck and the other over the skin of her brow in the hopes of cooling down her burning flesh. Alice began to shiver as the icy water from the soaking wet blankets penetrated her blazing skin. The droplets of water that ran down the sheets and puddled onto the hardwood floor were warm by the time they reached the wood, Snape noticed.
Throughout the whole ordeal, Barty never once relinquished his grip on Alice's hand.
And then the agonizing wait began all over again as Crouch looked every bit the part of a dying man as he sat unmoved next to Alice's bedside in his rumpled black leather jacket, a dark five o'clock shadow dusting along the edges of his jawline, his unkempt dark hair falling in front of his eyes.
But Crouch couldn't manage to pretend to care. His only care for the moment was Alice. Winky watched with no small amount of concern in her huge, doe-like eyes as her master deteriorated as the hours passed. She feared what Master Barty might do if the worst should happen with his Special Young Miss.
Winky begged her master to eat something, reminded him that he would do her no good if he should pass out sick from hunger and exhaustion.
Crouch relented and tried a few bites of the soup Winky brought to him, but could barely manage to keep it down, leaving Winky to conjure an orange plastic bucket and shoved it under his chin in time for Barty to vomit it back up almost the second he swallowed the bite of potato soup.
Winky's worry for both Master Crouch and his Special Young Miss was excruciating. Severus continued out of obligation to tend to Alice Longbottom's care. He cleaned and redressed her wounds with fresh poultices and bandages nearly every half-hour to forty-five minutes.
He personally took over the soaking of clean linen sheets in ice-cold water and draping them over her frail, shivering form. Her body temperature was still dangerously high, and the fact that Mrs. Longbottom had not yet regained consciousness was troubling him more than Severus would ever dare to admit to anyone.
It was going on well past midnight by this point as the darkness engulfed Crouch's property estate, a cold wind blowing in from the open bedroom window that Winky had opened in the hopes of cooling Alice's fever. Alice rested uneasily in the bed, guarded by her best friend, whose arms were wound around tightly against her middle, as though daring anyone to get close. Barty hadn't intended to fall asleep.
He'd sworn he wouldn't let himself rest until she was figuratively out of the woods and out of danger. However, the exhaustion over the last several hours of keeping watch over her showed not only on his tired and careworn face but also taken its toll on his mind and body.
As he had sat picturing his lovely Alice restored to full health, he'd found the vision in his mind's eye comforting enough that he'd accidentally let it lull him into slumber. He saw Alice standing in front of him tall and proud, the very picture of a true Gryffindor, of courage and bravery and selflessness. He sensed her arms around his, could taste her sweet kiss burning and tingling on his lips, and could feel her fingers raking their way through his thick dark hair.
As Crouch sat there, hunched over Alice's form, and lost in the dark shadows of his dreams, he realized he had woken up. Barty stilled his movements as he realized he still felt the gentle caresses of Alice's hand running its way through his hair.
He let himself have a moment to enjoy it before the sweet sensation vanished. Then, he realized it wasn't leaving him as he thought. His breaths catching in his throat, praying he wasn't imagining the feeling, he slowly lifted his gaze and looked up at Alice.
Her slender fingers moved once more through his disheveled hair. Crouch raised his head and her hand rested on his arm. He caught her fingers before Alice could retreat back within herself and pressed her knuckles to his lips as he turned to gaze up into her face. Alice's eyes were barely open, and she was watching him, confused.
The corners of her mouth twitched up in a faint weak smile that looked strained, though, to Barty, it was the sweetest smile he thought he had ever seen in his entire life. Crouch thought his heart was going to burst from his chest out of relief and joy. He raised himself to Alice's face and before she could protest or pull away, he kissed her.
Little more than just a brief peck on the lips, but he took his shot, purposefully ignoring her stunned look of surprise as a fiery red blush speckled its way along her cheeks, sparking just a little bit of color into her otherwise grey-tinged and ashen complexion. He was almost afraid to touch her as his hands shifted nervously from her fingers to her waist and lingered near her face.
"You made it, sweetheart," he whispered, overcome with relief. "I've been waiting for you to wake up, Al. I'm here," he smiled nervously, his lips and body shaking.
"Where am I? Where's… Frank, Barty?" Alice's voice was barely audible from screaming so long and loud over the last few hours. Her throat was dry and parched that it was a chore for her just to try to talk to him.
His blood soured at the mention of Longbottom, bile rising once more in his throat, though he forced himself to swallow it back down. He was anxious to keep uncertainty and fear from her mind, and he was still working out how best to deal with her husband so he wouldn't come calling. He knew he would have to deal with Frank, perhaps in a couple of days once he was confident that she was going to recover.
But for now, he had to keep her calm. A small white lie wasn't going to hurt him.
"You were injured back in the Forest, love," he told her as calmly as he could manage. This much, obviously, was the truth and not a lie. "The wound became infected, and you developed a very high fever. I—I was going to take you to the Hospital Wing or even St. Mungo's, love, but this was the best place I could think of for you to get private treatment and not have too many people cause a fuss over you." And this much, was even truer still, though Crouch purposefully left out the part where he selfishly wanted his Alice all to himself. He drew in a deep breath and continued his explanation, seeing Alice search his eyes for answers. "You're in my home, darling. I'll send you home in a couple of days. Frank… he knows you're here, love, he'll come to visit you." Crouch drew out a shuddering breath as he caressed her now cool but still clammy forehead, stroking strands of her short dark hair off of her forehead and away from her eyes. "And you're going to be alright now."
His words were as much as to try to convince himself as they were meant for her.
Nearby, huddled into a fetal ball in the corner, using the cold wall as a back brace, Winky blearily awoke to the sound of Master's voice. She had heard Master Crouch speak to his Special Young Miss in her sleep many times over the last couple of hours and was about to try to return to her sleep while she could until Master needed her when she noticed the witch's hand move up Master Barty Crouch's arm, and she saw her blink.
Winky bolted upright to her feet, barely believing her own eyes.
"Master Snape, sir!" the tiny little house-elf squeaked, eager for good news. "Master's Young Miss is awake, sir!"
Severus came quickly upon hearing the house-elf's shrill voice resonate as the little creature poked her head in through the door.
He skidded to a halt and stopped short in the doorway when he saw Alice was awake. A wry sardonic little smile flitted its way across his features, though just as quickly as it had come, it had vanished, replaced again with Snape's usual scowl.
"Mrs. Longbottom," he said, swiftly entering the room and stepping to Alice's side. "If I may examine your wounds?" he asked, outstretching a hand as if to peer underneath her shirt though he stopped.
Alice mutely nodded, still looking dazed and confused, no doubt the aftereffects still lingered of the copious amounts of Sleeping and Calming Draught that Severus had slipped her as she'd slept.
Crouch inhaled a sharp breath and held it, hoping that she was going to be fine.
Severus carefully peeled back the damp and cold bedsheet and lifted the edges of Alice's shirt to reveal the homemade poultice he had applied. He gingerly peeled back the layer of gauze and studied her injury. His fingers gently pressed at the edges of the wound, which elicited a hiss of pain from Alice and a protective snarl from Barty.
To which Severus pointedly ignored both of them, having eyes only for the wound. No colored, foul-smelling discharge oozed from the incision as it had earlier. Snape nodded, sure of himself and his assessment of her physical condition. Resting his hand on her forehead, Snape considered the young Auror's temperature pensively.
He took her wrist and felt her pulse. Replacing her hand at her waistline, he nodded solemnly, his expression quite grim.
"Your fever has broken, Mrs. Longbottom," Severus reported, looking at Alice while he spoke though addressing Barty. "Your wound is well on its way to healing," he relayed to the witch and wizard. "You've bled," Severus announced, grimacing as the sallow-faced, black-haired Death Eater looked at the horror that clung to Alice's face before pulling the young Auror out of her demise. "But the house-elf here was able to cease it...you are in a very special, yet critical condition, Mrs. Longbottom. I would have to warn you not to be delved in too much anxiety."
Alice was quiet as she groped at her stomach, bandaged palms curling above her borrowed shirt from Barty, the way she hitched in a breath and her pale skin almost turned purple answered Severus that the young witch was filled to the brim with anxiety and fear of her situation.
Snape regarded the woman in the bed with no small amount of tension in his eyes.
"However, this is still a very serious injury, Mrs. Longbottom. You will need time to recover, but I would venture a guess as to say you are through the worst of it. If you are agreeable to it, you could stay a few days. I should like to keep an eye on it for you, prevent infection and gangrene from occurring, and setting it. It's a nasty business, anything having to do with blood-sucking leeches like vampires," Severus growled.
Alice shyly nodded, downcasting her gaze before briefly looking towards Barty. She bit down on her bottom lip, seeming to be hesitant even to ask him. "Would you mind? I—I don't want to be a burden. A—And Frank, Barty? He could visit?" she asked, unable to stop the note of hope from seeping its way into her voice.
Though he bristled and seethed at Longbottom's name, Crouch almost broke into a genuine smile at Severus's suggestion that she stay for a few days while her wounds healed, with Alice not knowing that he was already concocting in his mind a plan for Longbottom. He would deal with Frank.
Instead of gracing Alice with a verbal answer, before his resolve failed him, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her again, not even minding when she immediately recoiled and looked at him with a look of shock and awe as he laid her carefully back against the mountain of pillows that Winky was fluffing behind Alice's head in the hopes she would be comfortable, his face hovering over hers.
"Stay as long as you need. Frank will come, just as you ask," he promised her through gritted teeth. Severus didn't even have to look to know that he was lying to her. "I'm going to look after you, sweetheart. It's been proven I can't leave you alone for more than five minutes before your talent for trouble kicks in," he said, only half-joking. As he glared at Alice, his voice took on a more serious edge and was sterner than before. Alice shrank back against her pillows.
As much as Barty didn't feel like yelling at his love and giving the witch a piece of his mind, it seemed like she might need one, and Barty knew he would rather hurt her feelings now and make amends later than not say something and lose her forever.
"You will alert me the next time you stumble across something you can't handle." His tone was biting, almost a harsh bark, and bordered on almost sounding cold.
"I couldn't get you involved, Barty," Alice frowned, furrowing her thin eyebrows.
"I should have been, Alice!" Crouch shouted, flinching as he heard his voice increasing in volume, grateful as he shot a look towards Snape, and the man took the hint and left. "You can't risk your life like that. You're pregnant, Alice. Don't you have any idea what your life means? Going out into the Forest like that alone without waking me up when you knew something didn't feel right, was pretty goddamned stupid of you." His voice started to shake in his rage.
"You were!" Alice was all but glowering at him now. "You were involved, Barty! Did you forget, you followed me into those woods and faced six disgusting vampires all on your own, just to save my life, Barty! You knew taking them on all by yourself might not work. You knew there was a chance you'd be killed or seriously hurt, but you did it anyway! I did the same thing you did, Crouch, I took the exact same risks as you!"
"No, Alice," Crouch growled. Now he sounded genuinely angry with Alice as he felt his fingers curling into fists that he rested on his lap, clenching, and unclenching his fingers as he fought to control his temper. "There is a huge difference in the small risk I took in saving your life tonight and what you did. You weren't just risking your life and the life of the baby's, you were sacrificing them. You don't know what those foul blood-sucking leeches would have done to you, Al."
Crouch ground his teeth and shook his head as he thought of all the unspeakable, horrible things his sweet love had narrowly avoided becoming a victim of earlier tonight.
"You all but handed yourself off to them!" he shouted, his face paling in his rage.
"I didn't, Barty." Alice frowned. "I ran. I—I tried to lead them away from you, and I hoped the Forest might help me lose them. I could have gotten away. I—I didn't, but I could have," she stammered, swallowing hard as she recognized the tightening of the man's jaw and how angry he was becoming. "It was a chance I took, to keep you safe, Barty. Exactly the same as the chance you took when you fought all six vampires in order to get me back and away from them. You didn't want me to get hurt, so you fought against those vampires. I didn't want you to get hurt, so I tried to lead them away. How can you sit there and tell me it's not the same exact thing you did?" she asked, hurt.
Crouch stiffened and felt something ugly within himself snap and give way. She didn't bloody fucking get it. Oh, but she would.
"WE AREN'T ARGUING ABOUT THIS, ALICE!" Crouch bellowed, losing what little patience he had left, slamming his fist down on the wooden night table beside the bed. He winced as he could hear that his tone sounded positively furious with her.
Crouch watched as she shirked away from him, both in hurt surprise and fear. He sighed haggardly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. The witch didn't deserve to be yelled at like this, particularly not after almost losing her life.
But still, Alice needed to take his words seriously. "The moment you spot something that you don't trust, Al, even from a distance, you've got to let me know so I can keep you safe, love. Immediately. It's not a matter of deciding whether to fight whatever it is or lead them away. There's no choice to be made here, do you understand? You tell me so the problem can be taken care of, Alice."
Alice shrunk down slightly at the clipped curtness of Barty's harsh tone. "Yes."
Crouch nodded and clapped his hand on Alice's uninjured shoulder. He cursed himself as he realized Alice was almost looking scared of him now, and while that certainly had not been his intention tonight, Barty knew at least now she'd take him seriously.
"I'm going to see if Winky will bring you something to eat. Any requests?" he asked in a voice that sounded strained. She numbly shook her head no. He nodded. "I'll bring you up something. And don't worry about Frank, Al. Frank will come for you. I'll send an owl to him and let him know," Barty whisper-hissed.
Before Alice could say anything, like a bolt of lightning, he stood flustering as he stormed out of the bedroom to rid himself of the torturous pounding of his damned heart.
Crouch hated being so harsh with his words, but Alice needed to understand that he was not going to tolerate the love of his life attempting to play the part of the heroine and getting herself into dangerous situations like she'd done to herself tonight.
He knew he was angry with Alice, and not because Barty wanted to be, and certainly not because Alice deserved to have her oldest friend angry with her. No.
Barty was upset because he had felt so much fear for the witch that he was honestly offended that Alice did not seem to care about her own well-being as much as he certainly did.
If Alice was going to be his once stupid boorish Frank was dealt with, he was not going to stand for Alice making choices that were so harmful.
Crouch had thought for a moment when he'd reached the cave the vampires had taken refuge in, that Alice may have been killed and had her blood drained, that perhaps he'd been too late to save her life.
The witch had been so lifeless and still in the back of the cave by the time Crouch arrived, and the wizard was not soon to forget the sickening horrible feeling of dread when he'd first laid eyes on his lovely Alice.
That sinking, cold feeling that perhaps she would never draw in another breath again. It was a terrible, crushing, dreadful feeling to have to live with and think about, wondering if his Alice, the most innocent, sweet, and kind-hearted witch Barty had ever met, could have met such a fierce, cruel end.
Barty wasn't pissed with Alice for any other reason than the fact she'd scared him so much, thinking that he'd lost her for good.
That was a fear he never wanted to face ever again if he could help it, and he wouldn't. He paced back and forth in the hallway with the drilling anger burning in his mind.
At this point, he reckoned he had lied to Alice in order to spare her feelings, and he hated himself for it.
Frank will come for you. Merlin, but whenever his eyes were open, all he could see were her blue eyes, calling to him with just a single pleading look. Except her attention was never fixed on him, they were always looking toward Frank. But Merlin, Barty could practically feel his hands running through her short dark hair now and—and—No!
In a fit of rage, he sent a spell to the wall, causing a chunk of stone to explode as it caught the brunt of his jinx.
Winky scrambled up the stairwell in a tizzy to see what on Merlin's green earth was the matter, had gone downstairs to see what could be done about fetching his 'Special Young Miss,' as she was calling Alice, something to eat, but Barty didn't notice her.
He knew he shouldn't think about her anymore, but he knew he could tell himself this fact until he was blue in the face, and it would not matter. Alice had him wound around her little finger and if she only knew.
Yet she had always gone off with that bastard who did not deserve her and had married him and was having a baby with him.
Longbottom couldn't handle a witch-like Alice, and it infuriated Barty that Alice would never choose him, not willingly….
Willingly…. Merlin, but it could work. The beginnings of a plan were ruminating in the man's mind as he paused to catch his breath, stomping his foot in a temporary release of frustration, and shook his head violently.
Why couldn't she just pick him?! She had chosen Longbottom, and it vexed him that Frank had gotten the better prize.
Barty couldn't take it. He was not going to sit in this room idly while the young woman resting in his bed in his spare bedroom was entrapped in his dark heart and she was slipping from his very fingers.
She was going to be his and his alone, no one else's. Not Longbottom's, not MacNair's, but his. Just his, and only his.
Barty gnashed his teeth together as the fingers of his wand hand curled around the handle of his wand. He would take care of his nemesis. He'd have Alice all to himself after tonight. Disposing of Frank would be easy.
Barty licked his lips to moisten them as he started to head down the stairs, though not before closing the door behind him and putting up a Silencing Charm on Alice's door, just in case, and then he magically locked it and ensured he had Alice's wand.
She wasn't going anywhere that he did not want her to.
"Master Crouch, sir, you's has a visitor here to see you!" Winky's shrill voice abruptly pulled Barty from his plans.
"Visitor has a name?" he barked, angry that his moment alone had been interrupted.
Winky twisted fistfuls of her tea cozy and suddenly had trouble meeting his gaze.
"Your father, Master," she squeaked, just as the sound of the front door downstairs opening and closing reached Barty's eardrums, and he heard the unmistakable baritone voice of his father, calling for him.
Barty froze, feeling the familiar sting of aching touched at him as his reeling mind processed his house-elf's words. He bit the wall of his mouth and fled down the stairs.
He could not let Father find her.
I figured Crouch Sr. would pay a visit to his son. Crouch's plan is coming to fruition in the next couple of chapters.
We would need quite a strong stomach as he unleashes all Crouch hell on Frank, his plan is dark in nature, otherwise, it wouldn't really be Barty, would it?
This rollercoaster ride is based on literary flaws of heroes and protagonists and villains-cruelty, murder, abandonment, proof that every human is fashioned for love.
If you decide to join me still, I am grateful. Crouch's plan to 'take care of Frank,' that will result in an all-out war between the Death Eaters and the Aurors in a way that I think you, my lovely readers, will like, as I've worked hard on making it believable and it may or may not a trip back into the Forest (hint?)
This story is definitely going to be keeping the T rating to try to match the tone of the last few books, so nothing too* dark or awful will happen!
Though I can promise that this fic DOES have a happy ending in the end, as this is an AU, and next to Lupin and Tonks, Frank and Alice are my favorite HP characters, but how our characters get there, however, we shall have to see...