A/N: I got the idea for this little AU story idea when I was reading an article on "Which Death Eater Do You Wish had Been Good?" And Barty Crouch Jr. was at the top of the list, which prompted this idea for a fic of mine set in an AU verse where Barty Crouch Jr. isn't quite so far gone and there is a possibility of redemption for the man.
Plus I have a strange canon in my head that Crouch Jr. was always obsessed/fixated on Alice, even when she was dating Frank Longbottom and eventually married him, so this is me doing a sort of wish-fulfillment and exploring a slightly softer side to Crouch.
This story is going to focus a lot on Alice finding trouble, and Crouch being forced to get her out of it while trying to keep his best friend safe, though, at some point, Alice is going to have to summon her inner Gryffindor courage and find the bravery within herself to help her former friend make it out of the Forbidden Forest alive, to answer to the Ministry for his crimes. This story is told primarily in third-person, with mostly Alice/Crouch chapters, and a couple of Remus and Frank segments, too. I hope that you enjoy it! :)
His Second Chance
By HeadintheClouds Forever
1
THE night air was bitter as a cold autumnal breeze in early October rustled through the air, no moon hung overhead. The night was late, the encroaching dawn still several hours away.
This, however, was of no concern to one sole figure shrouded entirely in black, the figure's face covered with the hood of his thick woolen cloak, the heavy hood rendering it almost impossible to make out the details of the figure's face from a given distance.
Though, if you were to creep close enough, the figure was very clearly a man, as evidenced by his broad shoulders and tall stature, though the cloaked man's pale flesh glowed like a beacon, cold and unrelenting, almost bone-white, as white as the moon. A shadowy figure gradually emerged from the surrounding night that nestled at the edge of the woodlands of the Forest of Dean.
A single word rent the otherwise silent night air, the tone bone-chilling to most, though the hooded figure never flinched once.
"Crouch."
The man's name was hissed, spat more than spoken, and the pale, hooded man turned slowly at the waist upon the utterance of his surname, his gaunt and emaciated features twisting in a crude smirk of an acknowledgment as he lowered the hood of his cloak and turned to face the Dark Lord himself, though not before kneeling on bended knee as he addressed him.
"Master." He bowed his head as a show of submission before lifting his gaze and briefly rolling up the left sleeve of his robes, where the Dark Mark that had been branded into his skin burned, moving of its own accord. "I have answered your summons. What need would you have of me tonight, milord?" Crouch asked softly.
The Dark Lord turned his pale head to regard perhaps his most loyal follower in silence, stroking his pointed chin, a strangely eerie and contemplative, thoughtful look within his red irises. The tall, too-thin man merely looked at Crouch with furrowed brows, or rather, where his eyebrows would have been having he any.
"I believe you are familiar with one Alice Prewitt, Bartemius, are you not?" he began, his words slow and cautious, though his thin, wormy lips twisted upwards in a familiar smirk as he witnessed his loyal follower's cheeks become flushed and high with color. "Though correct me if I'm wrong, but these days, does she not go by another name? It's…Alice Longbottom now, isn't it, Crouch?"
The look of revulsion, disgust, and sheer anger on Bartemius's emaciated, gaunt face was almost worth it, and it almost—almost—elicited a genuine smile from the Dark Lord to see Crouch Jr. so riled up over a female, one single little pretty witch.
It seemed to take the Death Eater an eternity to find his voice, and when Crouch did, his voice was so low that he had to strain forward to hear, thinking himself fortunate he was already hanging onto Bartemius's every word or he would have missed it.
"Yes." Just a one-word confirmation, but it was more than enough for the Dark Lord. Lord Voldemort inclined his head slowly and methodically as Crouch struggled to rise to his feet.
Crouch's voice was raspy, and the look on the younger man's face was strained, his nose scrunched up in a look of displeasure.
The tall pale man nodded slowly and continued his almost leisurely stroll along the edges of the Forest of Dean, Crouch Jr. trailing along right at the man's heels like a faithful puppy dog.
"I promised you blood, did I not? You want the witch's husband. I understand it is the Auror, Frank Longbottom, with whom you have a quarrel. The man is Alice Prewitt's husband, would I be correct in surmising as much, Bartemius, in saying so?"
Lord Voldemort barely glanced at Barty Crouch Jr., ignoring the way the dark-haired wizard had a nervous tic of licking his lips anytime Alice Prewitt's name was mentioned in their conversation.
As Crouch nodded, Voldemort continued speaking in his strangely soothing, smooth, languid voice, the words rolling off his tongue with great ease.
"Well, you shall have it. There is a matter of utmost importance concerning the prophecy. There is a possibility of a second boy to be born at the end of July within a years' time. Severus had inferred to me the Seer at Hogwarts had been referring to the Potters' son, but there is a chance of another." Crouch's eyes widened as he waited with bated breath.
Still, the Dark Lord barely met his gaze as the two men continued their slow walk along the edge of the forest, ignoring the biting cold, and for a while, the only sound that could be heard was the rustling of the autumnal leaves falling from their branches.
"You are quite a menace to society, Bartemius. You have killed several of my loyal followers whenever they make what you deem to be 'derogatory and odious' remarks regarding your Auror friend, Alice, and that, I might add, is no small feat, Mr. Crouch."
Barty nodded slowly, not wanting to dare admit it, but cautious to trust a wizard so lethal and more cold-hearted than he was, so set on domination and cheating Death itself at every opportunity.
"I have a proposition for you, Crouch, one that I believe only a fool would decline, and you, Bartemius are no fool, are you? You and I share similar ideals, it is why you aligned yourself with me. We both want to create a better world for our pureblood wizardkind. It would be foolish to ignore the raw, unbridled talent that you have for invoking fear into the hearts of wizards and non-magical humans alike. I want Auror Alice Longbottom brought to me for questioning and her husband. There are…questions, pertaining to the pair of them and this prophecy that I seek the answer to. It is rumored the young witch is pregnant with a baby."
Crouch halted in his footsteps, feeling what little color was left in his face drain, rendering the younger man with a now-pallid look, as though he were nothing but a walking corpse, and were you to take a good, up-close look at Crouch's face, your first thought of the man was that he would make a good candidate for an Inferi.
"Of Alice?" he demanded almost immediately, feeling his breaths catch in his throat and his tongue start to swell within his mouth. "What of her, milord? What will become of Alice? It matters not to me what happens to Frank."
Here, he spat the other man's name as though his name were a poisoned piece of chocolate that had gathered and lingered upon the man's tongue as his dark eyes narrowed to mere slits in disgust, so much so, that they almost resembled that of the Dark Lord's eyes, except not red in color.
The Dark Lord must have sensed Bartemius's initial reluctance and hesitation to go along with his plan regarding the object of his affections, though others within Lord Voldemort's ranks would tell you that Barty Crouch Jr.'s love for the witch was an infatuation, a dark lust, not based on the principles of true love, for the tall, powerful wizard spoke once more in his smooth tone.
"Is that a note of affection I deem present in your voice, Bartemius? You care for the young witch, do you not, my good man? Good. The reward for bringing both Aurors to me, alive and unharmed," he emphasized darkly through gritted teeth, "is Alice. I want nothing of her, her life is insignificant and means nothing to me, Bartemius. She is a pureblooded witch that has allowed her bloodline to become tainted. I, alongside you, if you are willing, seek to correct her mistake, if you will. I merely want the babe that grows within her to be…taken care of. After we take care of this mutual little problem you and I share a common interest in, the witch is yours to do with as you please. Keep her, marry her if you want, I don't care." The Dark Lord sniffed in disapproval.
"You have my allegiance and my loyalty, milord, I will not fail you," Crouch stated proudly, unable to quell back the churning feeling of vindictiveness and excitement welling within his stomach at the thought of seeing his sweet, precious Alice Prewitt once again.
He looked at the Dark Lord with a thoughtful expression as a slow, unnaturally wide Cheshire-Cat-like grin spread on his face that would have sent a chill of revulsion down most normal men's spines, but then, Voldemort was no ordinary man.
Far from it, as it so happened. His red eyes narrowed to slits.
"Good." Lord Voldemort inclined his head. "You're something of an expert tracker when it comes to her, aren't you?" he added, a slightly teasing lilt to his voice. He shook his head, a dark little chuckle escaping his lips. "But it matters not. Do whatever you have to do, use whatever resources are necessary. Bring them both to me. I would speak with the female-first, learn how far along her condition has progressed. I will not, hear me, Crouch, I will not allow a wretched, accursed child not born yet to ruin my plans."
Crouch slowly nodded his head in understanding, though whether or not Lord Voldemort saw it for himself, remained to be seen, as the Dark Lord turned on his heels.
There was a loud, deafening crack! that rent the otherwise silent nighttime air and a brief gust of cold wind that sent a chill down Barty's back as Lord Voldemort Disapparated, leaving Crouch alone with his thoughts.
Barty's dark brown eyes narrowed into mere slits as he stared at the edge of the tree line, the boughs of the dark oak trees that lined the edge of the Forest of Dean swaying haphazardly in the wind. Through the wind, he could swear he heard his Alice, speaking to him, her shy, sweet kind voice reaching his pounding eardrums.
"Barty… set me free, Bartemius. Save me. Please…"
Barty wanted nothing more than to touch her, yet she wasn't here in front of him. His long, slender, pale fingers curled into shaking fists as he pounded against the sides of his head, desperate to rid himself of the beautiful witch's perfect features.
Her face, even after all this time, was everywhere, it was all Crouch Jr. could see. Her round face was planted permanently in his mind like that of a Sticking Charm she'd planted there herself.
And he couldn't get it out. Not that Crouch wanted to, that is. Every time the young man closed his eyes, her bright, white smile would shine almost blindingly so against his closed eyelids.
The only thing that permeated his vision whenever his eyes were open, all the man could see was the woman's soft, bright blue eyes, beckoning him towards her with just a single, pleading look.
Except…except her eyes were never looking at him, even the phantasm of Alice that his lonely mind had created to ease his suffering. No. They were always looking at Frank, especially now.
It made him want to tear out her retinas. And she was…she was pregnant?! Merlin, but Barty could practically feel his hands running through her silky, soft, short black hair, even right now.
He gritted his teeth, pointing his wand at the tree nearest him, sending an Exploding Charm straight to the trunk and rendering it to nothing but ashes. He continued to tell himself that he shouldn't think about her anymore, but Crouch knew that telling himself this wouldn't matter at all. Alice, his sweet friend, had him wound tightly around her pinky finger and didn't know it.
Yet, she married a man, that bastard, Frank, who did not deserve her. Longbottom couldn't handle a pureblooded witch-like Alice, and it infuriated Barty to this day she had not chosen him.
All he could see as he looked in front of him at the smoking spot where the tree had once stood was his Alice, the feelings she invoked, foreign, forgotten, but not together entirely unwanted.
The arousal, the admiration, the annoyance, and aggravation. He let out a growl through his gritted teeth and stomped his foot.
Why couldn't she have chosen him? What the bloody hell did Frank have that he didn't? He was well-dressed, more handsome than Longbottom was, he was certainly wealthy enough, and could provide for his sweet Alice more so than Frank ever could. Still, Alice Prewitt had chosen Frank Longbottom…over him. Barty squeezed his eyes tightly shut, unable to take it anymore.
He was going to do as the Dark Lord had commanded of him and bring Alice to him, though he supposed it couldn't hurt to take care of Frank first. Alice was going to be his.
His. Just his. Not Frank's, not MacNair's or Severus's. Just his. His, and his alone. Crouch breathed slowly through his nose as he focused on her voice wafting through his eardrums, his soul wallowing in peace.
"Help me, Bartemius…set me free. Get rid of Frank. Please…"
He tilted his head in the direction of the north of the Forest of Dean as his thin lips tilted upwards in an unnaturally wide grin.
"My darling sweet Alice." He plunged his hand into the pocket of his black leather trench coat for his wand. He would take care of Frank once and for all, the Dark Lord's orders be damned. Like it or not, he was going to take Alice all for himself, at long last…
"I'm coming, Al," he whispered, licking his teeth as he turned on the heels of his boots, trying to decide which way to Apparate.
Hurry, her voice almost seemed to plead with him. Hurry, Barty.
"I'm coming to set you free, my darling little dove, you'll see, Alice. You'll see," he whispered, before turning on his heels and Disapparating. He knew where he wanted to go to look for her.
It was time, after all these years, to be reunited with his old friend.
ALICE Longbottom walked purposefully through the hallways of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, her footsteps echoing off the hardwood floor, marveling at how quickly her life had turned around.
Marrying Frank, joining the Order of the Phoenix, becoming one of the first members inducted into Dumbledore's secret society alongside James and Lily Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.
Almost a year since Voldemort rose to power and Barty, may Merlin bless his soul, not these days, had joined— NO!
Alice ground her teeth in annoyance, forcing her mind to grind to a halt. She would not think of her dear friend.
"Former," she reminded herself in a hushed and angered whisper.
She would not think of Barty. She had said goodbye to Barty Crouch Jr. months ago when she'd seen firsthand for herself in the morning edition of The Daily Prophet, that he alongside Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange were being investigated for crimes against poor sweet Emmeline Vance and her family.
The moment she had graduated from Hogwarts and a year later had married Frank in a quiet ceremony in his parents' backyard with just their closest friends and family members in attendance was the very day that she had forced herself to put Barty behind her for good and she had forced that chapter of her life to come to an end.
It seemed so long ago. Even as Alice swore to leave Barty Crouch Jr. in her past, and as practical as the young twenty-six-year-old Auror for the Ministry of Magic prided herself on being, there were still times when the pain of his betrayal when he'd chosen his side, would seep unbidden to the surface and render poor Alice very nearly unable to breathe, her lungs gasping, heaving for oxygen.
Last night as it so happened had been one of those times for her. She had slept little while Frank was on night duty with James and Remus, finding the quiet darkness of her and Frank's bedroom in their flat in downtown London a truly unwelcome burden to her. Alice had fought in vain, trying to keep thoughts of the man that she used to know, had once called him friend, perhaps…could have even loved him had Frank not gotten to her first and asked her out in the middle of the fifth year at Hogwarts, then maybe…
Alice Longbottom squeezed her eyelids tightly shut, fighting against the tides of remorse and regret that consumed her in waves. She had spent the dark hours of the early morning waiting for Frank to return home, forcing her chest to rise and fall steadily.
She willed her mind to try to think of nothing at all as she bolted from her bed, unable to sit still in their bed any longer, clinging desperately to the small shards of her and Crouch's friendship, wishing for herself to remember Barty as the young man with so much untapped potential and promise within him, prior to him picking his side in their seventh year.
He'd made his choice painfully obvious when Alice and Lily had spotted Barty and MacNair torturing poor Mary MacDonald and Hestia Jones.
As she stood alone in the hallway, the only light from Grimmauld Place emanating from the kitchen, Alice's fists balled tightly against the surging anger hotter than dragon fire in her veins, her chest heaving for calm as she tried to force the image of Crouch's hurt face from her mind, the last time the pair had spoken on relatively good terms, when she told him that she was dating Frank Longbottom and even had plans to marry Frank.
How the distraught, heartbroken look in the man's glistening dark brown irises had almost been too much for Alice to bear, so much so that she had been forced to look away and not meet his gaze, before turning on her heels to go and leaving Barty behind.
Racked with the memory of her former best friend, her heart still felt like it was nothing but a hollow, empty pit within the confines of her chest.
Though she had her friends in the Order, and Frank, her loving husband who doted on her and cherished her, she still felt as though life mocked her for the knowing of Crouch that she remembered. The man had been her first real friend at Hogwarts.
Fringe friends by default because no one else would have them, at least until she met Remus, who she could safely say was her other best friend. It had been hard for her at first, to try to let go of the friendship that had once solidified her foundations for a good working relationship with another human being, be they witch or wizard, Muggle, Squib, or even a creature, Alice knew.
Alice half expected the man's presence to haunt every corner, every room she entered, knowing that, now that he was fully inducted into Voldemort's ranks as one of his own, a Death Eater, and she and Frank, both high-ranking and well-respected Aurors, there was a good chance when the day would come when she would have to arrest the man for his crimes against humanity.
Alice was uncertain if part of her had hoped that there would be a phantasm of his presence, of the good man he had been before that she might feel of him, a reminder of the friendship, the connection the two former Hogwarts students had once shared.
A strength in which she could hide away her pain and sadness.
Alice shook her head, smiling sadly to herself, chiding herself for her ridiculousness and her silliness when Alice quickly realized that no matter where she walked or Apparated, or on rare occasions, drove a Muggle car if she really needed the time alone with her thoughts to think over things that were troubling her, she felt nothing of Bartemius Crouch Jr. and was able to press on.
It was her full-time job at the Ministry as an Auror alongside Frank and her part-time status as a member of the Order of the Phoenix that kept Alice busy for most of her days and nights now, and that quickened her steps now, as Dumbledore had requested to speak with her and Remus, given Frank was on night watch with Sirius and James, and Lily was at home tending to Harry.
A pang of worry wormed its way into her heartstrings as she continued down the corridor of the entryway that led to the kitchens of Sirius Black's parents' once-grand townhouse, and it was when she heard Albus give a light little cough that caused Auror Longbottom to quicken her steps, even more, wondering what the reason behind her summons was, what could it possibly be that Albus Dumbledore wanted to speak to her about tonight.
She had heard rumors among her colleagues within the Auror Department at the Ministry of Magic that there were signs of a potential uprising as Lord Voldemort continued to rise in power.
It seemed there would always be threats to the wizarding world. Alice gritted her teeth and her stomach clenched into tightened knots at just the thought.
She worried about Great Britain's future. Alice pondered what the future would hold for her and Frank as she slowed her pace upon entering the threshold that separated the front downstairs hallway from Grimmauld Place's kitchens.
Albus, ever the intuitive wizard that he was, glanced up from pouring over what looked to be blueprints of the Ministry, having sensed the young dark-haired Auror before he laid eyes on Alice.
The old wizard greeted Alice Longbottom before the young woman had even taken her first step over the threshold and into the kitchen, extinguishing the lighted tip of her wand under her breath and stowing her wand into an interior pocket of her jacket.
"My dear Alice," Albus murmured courteously, glancing up as he waved his wand and the parchment paper sprawled out at length on the rectangular wooden kitchen table vanished before Alice could crane her neck to get a better look at what was going on. "I take it that you received my request via owl post to see you, then?"
He motioned towards Alice, studying the young brunette-haired witch over the rims of his silver half-moon spectacles, blue eyes twinkling somewhat mischievously.
Though Alice Longbottom swore as she got a better look that the man was looking somber.
Alice inclined her head slightly as she quickly moved to cover the distance from the entrance to the kitchen table in quick succession, wanting to appear before Albus and assist the Hogwarts Headmaster and Order founder with what he needed.
The young witch and proud Auror lowered her head as a sign of respect towards the aging warlock seated at the head of the long table, thinking she was still at a loss as to what Albus wanted.
However, considering Frank was on night duty alongside James and Sirius, Alice was eager to do anything that she could. Alice blinked as she noticed her best friend standing in the corner, hovering almost directly behind Professor Dumbledore.
Remus Lupin stood with his back resting against the kitchen counter, his arms folded across his chest, two-day stubble growing along the edges of his rough beard.
Alice almost scoffed and rolled her eyes to herself, thinking she would likely have to corner the man and threaten to do it for him if the poor thing didn't start taking better care of his appearance. He was looking quite peaky and pale, though that was to be expected as his latest full moon's end was… Alice frowned, having to tick it off on her fingers. Two days ago.
Lupin nodded a smile to her as Alice gingerly approached Albus, though the man did not speak.
Professor Dumbledore was thoughtful for a moment before he spoke, and when he did address the room, or more specifically, just Alice, the man's quiet, reserved voice was quite grim, in fact.
"You sent for me, Albus?" Alice inquired softly, though she was unable to quell the sudden pang of nervousness in her heart.
"I did," Professor Dumbledore confirmed with a solemn expression on his face. "No doubt, Mrs. Longbottom, you are wondering why I have asked for you," he answered. Alice smiled by way of response as a light pink blush speckled along her cheeks, more than a little bit embarrassed as if he had somehow heard what was echoing through her mind and read her thoughts.
She always got the impression that the Order founder and the Hogwarts Headmaster was a skilled Legilimens, though the older man never came outright and said it. He was eccentric in that way.
"Yes, Albus," Alice murmured, her gaze flitting towards Remus for a moment before returning her attention back to Dumbledore. "What can I do for you tonight? How can I help you, Albus?"
Albus intertwined his fingers together as he propped his elbows up on the table and rested his chin atop his hands, thoughtful for a moment as he studied the young twenty-six-year-old brunette witch, thinking that as she spoke, it pained him to ask this of her.
There was something about the young Auror's voice that made Dumbledore listen whenever Alice Longbottom spoke to him. She commanded a quiet intelligence filled with unwavering loyalty. There was something strong, unfazed, and determined about her.
He closed his eyes wearily before looking at the spirited young woman. She really was pretty. Dumbledore could see why the person who he had summoned her to the kitchens of Headquarters to discuss fancied her. Short jet-black hair, sparkling blue eyes like that of the sky after fresh summer rainfall.
But…no, there was more to Alice than just her looks and her keen mind. She was beautiful, in a subtle kind of way, in the way where if one were observant, as Professor Dumbledore considered himself to be, one would look twice and see a strong, brave spirit. This was a good thing.
It meant that she would get past this.
But it also meant that her past relationship would make it that much more dangerous, and this could be considered a conflict of interest. But it also made it a possibility.
There was no other way. Albus startled when he noticed Alice narrowing her eyes, as she had clearly taken note of Dumbledore staring at Alice Longbottom and Remus Lupin melancholically.
Lupin had moved to stand behind his best friend, a firm hand on her left shoulder, and was giving it a reassuring little squeeze.
Dumbledore sighed. There was no easy way to broach this topic. A shadow of regret crossed Dumbledore's weathered, tired features as he continued.
"I could not have asked for a better person in the Order of the Phoenix, Mrs. Longbottom. I ask you tonight for your assistance in making an arrest, my dear. It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you, your former friend, Bartemius Crouch Jr., is a wanted suspect for the murder and torture of Marlene McKinnon's entire family, forcing poor Marlene to go into hiding with her chosen Secret-Keeper, Alice."
"I…" Alice felt her stomach drop and a coil in her gut start to twist as her knees went weak. She had known that Barty had chosen his allegiances, of course, she had known that. But poor, sweet Marlene?! There—there was no way Barty could be behind it.
There just had to be some sort of mistake.
"I…why me?" she managed to gasp out in a hoarse croak, grasping onto the back of one of the table's kitchen chairs for support, her knuckles bone white with the effort to steady herself. Alice stared in disbelief at both Lupin and Dumbledore, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. "Oh, Albus, please tell me it's not true!" she gasped, blinking back tears. "Is there no other way?"
Dumbledore shook his head remorsefully.
"I'm afraid not, my dear lady, or otherwise I'd have suggested another person, but you, Mrs. Longbottom are perhaps the only one capable of bringing Barty in for questioning. Peacefully, I might add," he murmured darkly as a shadow of anger crossed Albus's features.
Alice nodded numbly, she could swear she tasted warm bile rising from the back of her throat. She had always dreamed of becoming an Auror alongside Frank, of carrying those immense responsibilities on her shoulders. She felt that her job was the very role for which she had been born. Alice was good at her job, loved every second of it, the good parts…and the bad parts, but…
Right now, she felt the fear well up in her, rendering her frozen, and she barely felt Remus's encouraging hand on her shoulder.
Though, as her mind struggled to process Professor Dumbledore's words, Alice quickly realized that he was right, more, or less. There was quite possibly no one that Barty trusted more.
He hated Frank with a passion during their days at school. Her friends he more or less didn't give them the time of day, save for Lupin, who was always quiet and polite, even to those types like Severus Snape and Barty Crouch who didn't deserve it.
"Where is he, Dumbledore?" Alice asked, her words coming out slowly and cautiously as she wanted more information before she would agree to do this for her colleague. "He's been spotted, sir?"
"Yes." Albus looked at Alice Longbottom with no small measure of compassion in his glistening pale blue irises. He had been afraid that she would misunderstand his request. "On the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, my dear. I have, shall we say, temporarily lifted the ban on Apparating and Disapparating within Hogwarts' property boundaries to allow you and Lupin permission to arrive quickly and see Crouch brought to justice."
The furrow between Alice's brow only deepened, and her bewilderment grew as her face paled as she looked toward Lupin.
"Frank?" she prodded gently, sounding numb. "He—he's coming too, isn't he?" she whispered, her right hand now fidgeting with the plain gold wedding ring she wore proudly on her ring finger.
Lupin nodded, shooting his best friend a soft, reassuring little smile that he hoped reached his kind light brown eyes, though he knew it did nothing to mask the worry etched on his scarred face.
He knew better than most that what Dumbledore was asking of Alice was a lot to cope with, being forced to apprehend and arrest your former best friend and set aside your personal history was a monumental task.
It was one that he wasn't sure Alice had the strength enough within her to do as Dumbledore was asking, hence why he had insisted upon accompanying Frank and Alice to the Forest.
"He'll meet us there, Alice. James and Sirius already agreed to cover his watch for night duty the next couple of nights, Alice."
Alice made an odd, muffled noise at the back of her throat, before pinching at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, feeling the beginnings of a splitting headache start at her temples. She was slowly realizing that what Dumbledore was asking of her was true of far greater importance than staying here.
As much as she truly relished her work for the Order and volunteering for night duty alongside James, Sirius, Peter, and Lily, and as much fulfillment as she had found, Alice knew that the only way Barty Crouch Jr. would come quietly was if she went and spoke to him first, she knew, as her heart sank to her belly.
Suddenly, there was nothing she wanted more than to undertake this new challenge, as a spiraling warmth started in her stomach.
Perhaps if she agreed to do this for Dumbledore, there was the faintest flicker of hope, no bigger than an ember flame, a candle flame that was in danger of being snuffed out, Barty could change.
As her hope grew, so did the former Gryffindor's courage.
"I'll go," she announced softly, fighting against the tiny smile that tugged the corners of her lips upwards into a small, victorious smile upon seeing Dumbledore's worried expression relax a bit.
Dumbledore bowed at the pair of friends in immense gratitude.
"The preparations have been made for your departure. Feel free to leave whenever you are ready, though I do suggest sooner rather than later," he sighed, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he rose from his chair and strode around the table.
Alice nodded numbly, her face turning an interesting shade of green as she moved to stand alongside Remus, so close to her best friend that their shoulders touched. She did not protest when she felt Lupin's hand drift down to his side and grasp her hand in his.
"Do you feel ready?" Lupin asked in a low, somewhat shy voice.
Again, Alice nodded, not sure what to say. She exhaled a shaking breath and closed her eyes, steeling herself for what she was to do.
"Yes," she managed to croak out at last in a hoarse little gasp.
"Very well. It is settled," Dumbledore decreed. "I am grateful to know that Barty will be brought to justice by the best pair of Aurors the Ministry has ever known," he said softly, referring of course, to Frank and Alice. "Merlin speed to all of you, then, and I wish you luck, and Crouch is in your capable hands, Mrs. Longbottom," he said.
Alice blinked owlishly at Professor Dumbledore as he smiled wryly at the pair of friends before turning on the heels of his grey boots and Disapparating from Grimmauld Place's kitchens, leaving Remus and Alice alone together in the empty room.
"When you're ready, Al," he whispered in a shy voice. "I know how hard this is on you, but if you really don't want to, I'll ask Lily or Hestia to come. There is no shame in saying no, Alice. I know the man was your friend, what Dumbledore is asking of you is—"
But Alice held up a hand and cut Remus off before he could finish his thought. "Let's go," she whispered, wincing as she heard the faltering crack and dip in her voice, blinking back salty tears.
Her voice had hardened considerably, sounding flat and emotionless, not like her usual jovial self at all, and Alice realized, with a heavy heart, and a nauseous stomach, was that if she was going to do this for Dumbledore and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, she was going to have to set aside her personal differences and her feelings for her former best friend.
It was the only way to do what needed to be done, though that did not mean it was going to be easy.
She tried not to give too much notion to the fact that as Lupin's grip on her hand tightened as he turned on his heel and Disapparated alongside Alice to head to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where Frank was surely already waiting for the two of them, that tonight was the last time that she would ever see Barty.
