THC
Ravenclaw, DADA
Drabble
[Character] Barty Crouch Jr (Restriction - not as Mad Eye Moody)
WC: 548
Barty Crouch
Alone. He was all alone in his room. He was wandless and there was a myriad of charms blocking him from getting within a meter of the windows and door. While Barty was no longer freeing as the small fireplace provided plenty of warmth, the atmosphere in his family was just as cold as his cell in Azkaban. With his father circling him like a Dementor, sucking his soul out, Barty just sat there doing nothing and thinking about nothing. So all in all, not much had changed.
With rich, regular meals, he regained some of his former strength, but being locked inside a small room all day, made him feel even worse. Barty spent hours pacing through his childhood bedroom, like a caged tiger. He was shaking his hands uncontrollably and throwing his head from side to side.
Only in the evenings, when his father had returned from home, was he allowed to leave the confines of his tiny space, but Barty didn't really want to see him. In fact, he would rather spend the rest of his life locked away than to listen to his fathers constant remarks.
The Senior was more interested in his career than in his own family. His father had never cared about what he truly wanted, what his desires and inspirations were, the only important thing was that it didn't interfere with his job or make him look bad in front of the neighbours. If he had spent only half as much time listening to him instead of the papers, he would have understood the importance of what they were doing.
Unlike his father, a mere paperpusher at the Ministry, Barty was working on something important, something bigger than him and his father. He was doing all of this for the betterment of the wizarding world. Why did no one understand him? Not even his mom understood, she was rather towing his father's line. The Crouch patriarch was keeping his family on a short leash. She loved him, so why didn't she stand up for herself and her boy more?
The years of imprisonment weren't nice on him. With only a House Elf by his side and no way to contact his comrades, he was going insane. There was a war that needed to be fought , or everything he stood for would seize to exist. He couldn't let his Lord down, but Barty also knew that he needed to dread carefully. His father wasn't one to be trifled with, he knew better than anyone else how he had a strict no-leniency-police. After all, this man had sent his own son to prison without doing as much as raising a brow, knowing better than most that this was a death sentence.
And yet his mother had stood by him. She was crying, but still.
Barty knew he should feel more distress about his mothers horrible death, but he couldn't. He had needed her to stand up for him and not his father, and she didn't. He had wanted her to at least reconsider her relationship with his father, but at the very least, she thought about him in her dying hour. Which had been more than he had expected at this point.