Disclaimer: I own nothing! J.K. Rowling owns it all! (Short n' sweet, eh?)
A/N: Ugh. Sorry for the long wait. Hope this chapter makes up for it.
Chapter 4: An Escape
"Winky, I don't care how bored he's getting, I'm not letting him out of this house!"
"But Master-"
"No!"
Mr. Crouch was lying on the living room couch, exhausted from an exceptionally stressful day at the office. Upon coming home, he'd collapsed, thinking he could finally get some rest. His relaxation was interrupted when his house elf, being unusually bold, had come in and confronted him, asking permission to take Barty Jr. outdoors to the large grassy area behind the house. "Winky would be keeping track of him!" she'd pleaded. "He isn't being out of the house in years, master!"
Indeed, twelve years had passed since the incident with Bertha Jorkins, and Barty hadn't gone outside since the day he'd been brought home from Azkaban. He'd stayed inside, forced to keep quiet and under the Invisibility Cloak. His father had placed the Imperious Curse on him, but although he'd been confined to the house for twelve years, Barty's rebellious attitude had stayed. As of late, Mr. Crouch's cup of morning coffee had gotten into the habit of throwing itself at him, as though and invisible hand had deliberately knocked the cup into his face. Even though he knew this was exactly the case, his son always managed to creep upstairs under the Invisibility Cloak before Mr. Crouch, dripping hot coffee, could grab him.
This was part of the reason that Winky's proposition had been flatly refused. She was determined, though. The elf still had one more weapon, but she hesitated to use it, fearing Crouch's anger. But as her master rose from the couch, rubbing his temples, she said quietly, "Master Barty's mother..." she gulped. "is not freeing him from Azkaban to be imprisoned again."
Crouch stopped, and sank back onto the couch, staring at her. Winky seemed to take heart in the fact that she hadn't been reprimanded, and ventured to ask once more. Clasping her hands, the elf whispered, "Please, let him outside just once, Master."
He rose once more from the couch and walked toward the stairs. At first, Winky thought he was simply going to ignore her. Then Crouch turned and said in a cold voice, "Very well. You may take him out for twenty minutes. No more, and never again." He walked up the stairs, and Winky followed him into Barty Jr.'s room, where a sunken area in the middle of the bed showed that there was someone lying on it.
"Boy," said Mr. Crouch, addressing his son. A small grunt from the bed announced that Barty was listening. "I've decided to allow you a brief time outside today. Winky will be keeping watch over you, so don't even think to try anything. Are you listening?" he snapped. His son threw back the hood of the Invisibility Cloak for a moment and scowled at him. Crouch was shaken by the young man's appearance. His skin, not having been touched by sunlight in years, was deathly pale and his eyes were sunken and dimmed. He felt a small wave of pity for his son, and Winky's words came back to him: *"Master Barty's mother is not freeing him from Azkaban to be imprisoned again."*
Crouch watched somewhat guiltily as his son threw the hood of the Cloak back on and disappeared from view again, then listened as Barty's footsteps followed Winky down the stairs. He didn't move from that spot until he heard the door downstairs opening, admitting the young man and the house elf outside. Crouch went downstairs and began to look out of the window to the area where two people were standing, though only one was visible. Winky's argument had not entirely convinced him, and his stomach began to twist into knots as he thought of all that could go wrong. The house-elf had promised that she would use her magic to restrain Barty should he begin to ponder an escape, but -
Crouch froze. A loud knocking had come from the twin oak front doors. Rushing over to a window, he chanced a peek outside. Two people stood there. Cornelius Fudge, clad in his usual bowler hat, and his wife, a tall woman with shining auburn hair and hands that seemed far too big for her spindly arms.
Crouch backed away from the window, his heart beating considerably faster. "Damn." He whispered to himself. If no one answered the door, Fudge and his wife would most likely think something was wrong. Like most house-elves, Winky very rarely left the house when her master wasn't home. Through the window, it sounded as though Mr. And Mrs. Fudge had just struck on that very thought.
"You'd think that at least the house-elf would be in."
"Perhaps she's gone out back. I've heard of people who have their elves do the gardening as well as indoor tasks."
"I'll go look for her, dearest. House-elves usually know where to find their masters, perhaps she'll tell us where old Barty's gotten to."
Crouch's heart, which had been beating a mile a minute, nearly stopped. He had no choice but to invite them in. If he didn't, the entire Bertha Jorkins affair was sure to play itself out over again. Fudge would walk around back and hear their voices... Crouch shuddered as he reached for the door handle and pulled it open so quickly that it ricocheted against the wall with a loud bang that made him wince. Both Fudges seemed startled by his abrupt appearance, but the Minister recovered in an instant, dashing up to Crouch and shaking his hand warmly. "Barty! How have you been? Julia and I were getting worried, we were about to go looking for your house-elf to see if she knew where to find you!"
Crouch managed a shaky, forced smile although his mind was in the backyard, willing Barty and Winky to wait a moment longer before coming in. "Well, I'm right here Cornelius." He said, looking nervously around before inviting them in, his eyes darting towards the back door. The Minister and his wife helped themselves to the sofa once they were in the living room, and Crouch said awkwardly, "Was there something you wanted to see me about, Cornelius?" He really hoped that they weren't here for conversation, as the time he'd given Barty outside was nearly up, but his luck that day seemed to be all bad.
The Minister seemed surprised by his question and looked at Crouch strangely as he asked, "Didn't you get our note Barty? We said we'd be stopping by for a Christmas visit today."
Crouch silently cursed owl post as he answered. "I never got a note."
Mrs. Fudge suddenly piped up. "Well, I suppose that's what we get for trying to use a Post Office owl instead of our own. The idiot bird will probably show up here tomorrow with our letter torn and stained." Crouch had forgotten how much Julia enjoyed complaining.
The room was filled with an awkward silence for a few moments, with Crouch listening closely for the sound of the back door opening and Mr. And Mrs. Fudge peering around at the living rooms large pictures. Crouch noticed that Mrs. Fudge's eyes lingered on a picture of his son, the only one he'd allowed his wife to leave out after Barty's arrest, and he grimaced as her mouth tightened and eyes narrowed. Nicole Longbottom had been one of her best friends in school, and Crouch shuddered as he wondered how she would react if she discovered that the object of her despise was just outside.
Fudge seemed to have noticed where his wife's eyes were directed, and he quickly cleared his throat. "I had forgotten what a nice house you have Barty, it's been so long since my last visit. It just looks as though things might get a bit... lonely, what with you living by yourself now."
"Well, Winky's still here, isn't she?" Crouch said, suppressing a scowl. His tone clearly hinted that he had no desire to talk about the residents of his home, but Fudge, who either didn't care that his host was becoming uncomfortable or simply hadn't noticed, laughed aloud.
"Come off it Barty! I mean to say, house-elves are wonderful for work- it's practically all they know, but it's not as though you could actually have a conversation with one." Fudge laughed again and his wife joined him. Neither seemed to realize that they were the only ones who had found anything amusing about the idea of having a house-elf as one's only companion.
As their laughter subsided, Mrs. Fudge suddenly became very serious and said, "Really though Barty, have you ever considered meeting someone new now that Secilia's passed on? I mean, I realize that you're older now, but I've a friend, Angelina, who I'm sure would love to meet you..."
Crouch wasn't able to hide his annoyance any longer. "I'm sure you had good intentions, Julia," he hissed through his teeth. "But if the only reason you came was to convince me to remarry, you've wasted your time." A fury was building up inside of him at the insolence of this woman, inviting herself into his home and casually asking if he was thinking of replacing his deceased wife, as though she were simply an object of glass or porcelain that had broken and was to be instantly forgotten as soon as another took it's place.
Mrs. Fudge looked visibly affronted, and she said stiffly, "It was merely a suggestion."
Fudge could feel the tension between his wife and fellow Ministry member, and tried cheerfully to turn the conversation in another direction. "Come now Julia, this is a Christmas visit, we needn't talk about such somber things! Say Barty, have you heard any news about the Quidditch World Cup? Ireland versus Bulgaria, it's sure to be quite an exciting match."
"You know I don't follow quidditch, Cornelius."
"Well, I know you've never been a fan of any sport, Barty, but what with Ludo Bagman bouncing around the office nowadays, I just thought..." Crouch had to suppress a sigh. He wasn't the least bit interested in quidditch, but he let Fudge talk on, nodding every once in a while to make the Minister think he was listening.
***** Outside, meanwhile, Barty was being his usual self, trying to make things as difficult as possible for his father's poor house- elf. The twenty minutes that Mr. Crouch had allowed were up, but Barty refused to go back inside. He was shivering in the cold December air, as the thin material of the Invisibility Cloak offered little protection against the biting frost, but he wasn't ready to go inside just yet. There was no guarantee that his father would ever allow him outside again, and escape had been the one thing on Barty's mind since he'd stepped out of the house. The Crouches had no neighbors who lived within seeing distance, so being caught right away wasn't something he was concerned about, but with the entire wizarding world still peeking out of the corners of their eyes for Death Eaters, it wasn't as though he could simply take the Knight Bus to Albania. Barty looked up at the house. Something had clearly distracted his father or he would have been dragged inside the very second that the twenty minutes had passed.
Winky wasn't a big concern either. House-elves don't deal with cold very well, and with merely her tea towel for protection, poor Winky was slowly turning the same shade of gray as the dismal winter sky. With luck, the elf's freezing limbs would distract her long enough for him to slip away.
He suddenly felt her tug on the hem of his robes, her teeth chattering in the bitter cold. "M-master Barty, we is to be going in- inside now." She sneezed and began to pull him forward. Barty followed her, planning on waiting until they were nearer to the house to make his escape. Winky looked back over her shoulder every few minutes as though to check that he was still following. This didn't do her very much good though, as Barty was still under the Invisibility Cloak.
As they neared the house, Barty prepared himself to slip away. He would have to move fast. Winky wasn't very quick on her short legs, but she would surely tell his father before attempting to catch him herself...
They both stopped in the same instant. Winky and her charge both stood stock-still, listening to the voices carrying on the air from inside the house. They could hear Fudge's loud, cheerful voice carrying on about the Quidditch World Cup.
"... I've heard good things about the Bulgarian team, Barty. Got a very fine seeker, I'm told. I myself have a bit of money on them to win. Perhaps you'd also like to..."
Mr. Crouch seemed to know what Fudge was about to say, and he answered the question before it was asked. "I don't gamble Cornelius, you know that."
"Well yes, of course I know..." Fudge sounded more than slightly embarrassed.
As the Minister continued, Barty looked down at Winky. She was standing with her large ears quivering, listening to every word that was being said inside of the house. He saw his chance, and took it.
Slipping quietly away, Barty was very glad that there was no snow on the ground to leave footprints and make him easy to track. Instead, it was dry and frozen, leaving no signs of where he'd been.
The Crouches had no fence around their yard, a good thing for Barty. Winky would have surely heard him if he'd had to climb a fence to escape.
At that moment, the house-elf took her eyes off of her master's house, and, suddenly remembering her charge, called out softly, "Master Barty?" When there was no answer, the elf felt her stomach begin to tie into knots. "Master Barty, where is you at?" She tried again, her tiny voice cracking on the last word. When there was no answer, she panicked, running towards the house as fast as her small legs could take her.
Meanwhile, Barty was slumped against a large tree still within seeing distance of his father's house. All the years of being cooped up inside had weakened his muscles, and he'd become winded after the first few meters of running.
He'd never thought about exactly where he was escaping to, either. Of course Albania would be his final destination, but he would have to stay somewhere for at least that one night. It wasn't as though he, a wanted man, could just hop on the Knight Bus. Barty looked around him. He could only see a few houses scattered around, most of them large manor houses like his own. He sat down to think for a moment, but nothing came to him until he saw a large, familiar looking house off in the distance. *The Malfoys! *
Barty remembered vividly how his parents had always disliked living so near the Malfoy family. Still, the Malfoys were an old, rich pureblood family not unlike themselves, so it stood to reason that they would live in the same area of large, richly furnished wizarding houses. From a very young age, Barty could remember his parents dragging him over to Malfoy Manor nearly every month to attend Narcissa's dinner parties and the like. His parents had both insisted that it was the neighborly thing to do, but as a young child, Barty had seen his father watching Lucius Malfoy very closely with a suspicious look in his eyes, and wondered if that was also the neighborly thing to do.
Now, Barty began to run for the large manor in the distance, praying that Lucius Malfoy would help out a fellow Death Eater. He hesitated though.
Lucius had obviously never made any attempt to search for his master. From what Barty had read in the newspapers, he had talked his way out of Azkaban by saying that Lord Voldemort had controlled him with the Imperius Curse. If Lucius had denied his support of Voldemort, it surely meant that he'd turned to the Ministry and had no intention of helping his Lord (or any fellow Death Eaters who might happen turn up on his doorstep.)
Barty turned around, nodding to himself in firm resolution. Lucius would not help him. He began to hurry in another direction; towards a muggle road that he knew was located just out of seeing distance. Everyone in the wizarding world knew his face, but a muggle wouldn't have looked twice at him.
Being a Death Eater, Barty hated the idea of associating with muggles, but if he could just make it to Albania...
At that same moment, Winky burst into the living room where Mr. Crouch and his unexpected guests were sitting. Mr. And Mrs. Fudge simply stared in shocked surprise at the shivering, distressed elf, but Crouch, who had realized immediately that Winky's charge was not with her, stood up, his face paling. "What is the meaning of this Winky?" he had to work hard to keep his voice from shaking. "I believe I gave you specific orders you were to be carrying out."
"M-master, you is needing to come outside, quickly!" she cast a glance at the Fudges, too frightened to say more.
The Minister seemed to have realized that it would be a very good idea for their visit to end, and quickly, because he stood up, saying awkwardly, "Well Barty, I suppose you've got something to attend to, so..." he gave a loud cough. "Perhaps it would be best if we ended our visit later. Tomorrow, perhaps?"
"What? Oh... yes, tomorrow. You can show yourselves to the door, can't you? I'm afraid I really must hurry... thank you for coming, both of you." Even in a state of panic no one could ever say that Barty Crouch Sr. had forgotten his manners.
"Goodbye then." Fudge said awkwardly, and pulled his startled wife towards the front doors with him.
As soon as they were gone, Crouch bolted outside. Knowing what he would find, he peered desperately around the yard, and cursed when his worst suspicions were confirmed. He whipped around, glaring daggers at his shaking elf. "You were supposed to be watching him, Winky!"
"Master, Winky is doing her best! I-"
"You weren't watching him carefully enough!" the elf opened her mouth to speak, but her master cut her off. "If you had been paying attention you could have stopped him with your own magic! I've told you several times you have license to use it on him!" He turned toward the empty yard again, too furious with his servant to say any more. That damned elf! This was all her fault. First she'd begged him to let Barty outside, and then neglected the simple task he had given her. Still, his son didn't have a wand with him, and there was, perhaps, one spell that might find him...
Barty Jr. could now see the road in the distance. As a child, he had been forbidden to go near it, which of course meant that he had snuck out numerous times simply for the sake of disobeying his father's orders. As he approached his destination, he saw that something was taking place on the little stretch of road. A long line of muggle cars was backed up behind two other cars that had obviously collided. Barty scoffed at the stupidity of muggles. They couldn't even control their own machines!
Muggles were standing outside of their cars, waving their fists at a group of official-looking men and women who were speaking with three bruised men, the owners of the two vehicles.
"C'mon, get going!"
"We've got places to be!"
"Can't you at least move the damn things so the rest of us can get through?"
Barty was now standing by the side of the road, although he was still wearing the Invisibility Cloak and none of the people could see him. He peered about at all of the cars, looking for someone who might be willing to give a poor stranger a ride. His eyes fell on a large, shining new car with four people in it. One of them was a large man who was grumbling to the woman next to him. The man's head was protruding from the open window of his car, and Barty could hear what he was saying.
"- just because some idiots can't drive, the rest of us suffer. I tell you Petunia, if I was running this country, you can bet I'd see to it that these people never put foot to a gas pedal again!"
In the back, an enormous boy who nearly took up two seats was shoving a much smaller, rather scrawny looking boy against the door. "Move over! I want more room!"
"Most people would have enough room to stretch their legs out in the space you're sitting in!" The scrawny boy shot back. He moved over as far as he could though, and began looking out the window, green eyes peering up momentarily at the dismal sky. His messy black hair was covering his forehead, so Barty didn't recognize him to be Harry Potter, his master's "downfall."
Barty turned his eyes from the scene on the road and headed for a small cluster of trees nearby, working out a plan in his head as he went. Under cover of the trees he would remove the Invisibility Cloak, then return to the road and find a muggle to drive him away. It didn't really matter where, he thought. *Once I'm far enough from Father, I can work my way to Albania in safety. And then..." he smiled to himself, pulling the Cloak off and tucking it under his arm. He tried to roll the bundle of cloth up as tightly as possible, to hide the fact that it was not made of ordinary material.
"Ichnos!" Crouch whispered, holding his wand so that the tip was touching the spot of ground where Winky and Barty Jr. had last been standing. Immediately, two sets of footprints appeared where before there had been only solid, frozen earth. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't been sure if the Tracking Spell would work, or if the trail his son had left would be too old. It didn't take very long for a trail to wear away under the spell, so he would have to hurry. One of the trails, tiny footprints that led up to the house, obviously belonged to Winky, but someone much larger, Barty Jr, made the other.
Crouch began to follow his son's trail, hurrying along as quickly as he could. When he reached the spot where Barty had started towards Lucius Malfoy's house but then turned back again, he could tell exactly what his son had been thinking. He ran on, his eyes never leaving the tracks he was following. He knew perfectly well what Barty Jr. intended to do, and his breath caught in his throat as he thought about it. It would be all his fault. All his fault if Voldemort rose again, helped along by Barty.
Nearing the road he peered around, fearing that he was too late. At that moment he saw something move in the trees, and his son stepped out. They stared at each other for a moment. Barty Jr. had obviously not expected his father to find him so quickly, and likewise Mr. Crouch had not expected Barty to be bold enough to take off the Invisibility Cloak.
Barty darted away suddenly, abandoning his plan to find a ride with the muggles. He couldn't go back to be imprisoned again! His father ran after him, cursing Winky again for causing the disaster.
Only the fact that Barty hadn't left the house in over a decade saved his father. Crouch was much older of course, and he had never been in top physical condition, even in his younger days, but walking around the Ministry building every day was still better exercise than being kept indoors for almost thirteen years.
He caught up with his son, who was desperately struggling to put the Invisibility Cloak back on, and pulled out his wand. "Stupefy!"
Barty froze instantly and toppled onto the frozen ground, unconscious. Breathing hard, his father pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head, once more shielding him from view. The elder Crouch stopped for a moment, his heart beating from both the gut-wrenching fear he'd had in his stomach throughout the entire ordeal, and the chase that had followed.
Heart still fluttering, he felt about on the ground for a moment before finding the limp, unconscious form of his son, and dragged the boy -although Barty was now in his thirties, Crouch still thought of him as a child- all the way back to the house.
Winky was waiting for them, hopping anxiously up and down with her tiny hands over her mouth. Crouch shot a venomous look in her direction, which stated quite clearly: *You'll be dealt with later, elf. *
He then stormed past her and up the stairs, depositing a still- invisible Barty Jr. onto the bed in his room. Before leaving, however, he turned around and looked at the supposedly empty spot on the mattress again.
It struck him then that when he'd encountered Barty by the road, his son had been visible. He'd somehow managed to take the Cloak off despite the Imperius Curse his father had placed on him. For a moment Crouch felt his blood run cold. Could Barty be throwing off the curse already? He had never considered how the boy would be controlled when he began deflecting his father's enchantments entirely.
Of course... the spell's caster * had* been rather distracted at the time of Barty's escape. *And come to think of it, * Crouch said to himself. * My wand was lying on the table beside me and not in my hand. Yes, perhaps that's it. I simply lost control of the curse for a moment. * He nodded his head decisively, leaving his son's room and heading down the stairs.
When he passed by Winky, who was carrying a basket of laundry nearly twice her size, the elf cringed as though waiting for her master to reach out and strike her. Crouch's anger had not waned at all, and he felt like doing just that. Instead he held his tongue. The house-elf would not get away without being punished, of course, but he still depended on her to watch over Barty while he was away. For the moment, dismissing her entirely was out of the question.
Still, if there was one more mistake on her part...
A/N: I know that was a crappy ending for this chapter, but I really wanted to get started on the events at the World Cup. Review, my little readers, review!
A/N: Ugh. Sorry for the long wait. Hope this chapter makes up for it.
Chapter 4: An Escape
"Winky, I don't care how bored he's getting, I'm not letting him out of this house!"
"But Master-"
"No!"
Mr. Crouch was lying on the living room couch, exhausted from an exceptionally stressful day at the office. Upon coming home, he'd collapsed, thinking he could finally get some rest. His relaxation was interrupted when his house elf, being unusually bold, had come in and confronted him, asking permission to take Barty Jr. outdoors to the large grassy area behind the house. "Winky would be keeping track of him!" she'd pleaded. "He isn't being out of the house in years, master!"
Indeed, twelve years had passed since the incident with Bertha Jorkins, and Barty hadn't gone outside since the day he'd been brought home from Azkaban. He'd stayed inside, forced to keep quiet and under the Invisibility Cloak. His father had placed the Imperious Curse on him, but although he'd been confined to the house for twelve years, Barty's rebellious attitude had stayed. As of late, Mr. Crouch's cup of morning coffee had gotten into the habit of throwing itself at him, as though and invisible hand had deliberately knocked the cup into his face. Even though he knew this was exactly the case, his son always managed to creep upstairs under the Invisibility Cloak before Mr. Crouch, dripping hot coffee, could grab him.
This was part of the reason that Winky's proposition had been flatly refused. She was determined, though. The elf still had one more weapon, but she hesitated to use it, fearing Crouch's anger. But as her master rose from the couch, rubbing his temples, she said quietly, "Master Barty's mother..." she gulped. "is not freeing him from Azkaban to be imprisoned again."
Crouch stopped, and sank back onto the couch, staring at her. Winky seemed to take heart in the fact that she hadn't been reprimanded, and ventured to ask once more. Clasping her hands, the elf whispered, "Please, let him outside just once, Master."
He rose once more from the couch and walked toward the stairs. At first, Winky thought he was simply going to ignore her. Then Crouch turned and said in a cold voice, "Very well. You may take him out for twenty minutes. No more, and never again." He walked up the stairs, and Winky followed him into Barty Jr.'s room, where a sunken area in the middle of the bed showed that there was someone lying on it.
"Boy," said Mr. Crouch, addressing his son. A small grunt from the bed announced that Barty was listening. "I've decided to allow you a brief time outside today. Winky will be keeping watch over you, so don't even think to try anything. Are you listening?" he snapped. His son threw back the hood of the Invisibility Cloak for a moment and scowled at him. Crouch was shaken by the young man's appearance. His skin, not having been touched by sunlight in years, was deathly pale and his eyes were sunken and dimmed. He felt a small wave of pity for his son, and Winky's words came back to him: *"Master Barty's mother is not freeing him from Azkaban to be imprisoned again."*
Crouch watched somewhat guiltily as his son threw the hood of the Cloak back on and disappeared from view again, then listened as Barty's footsteps followed Winky down the stairs. He didn't move from that spot until he heard the door downstairs opening, admitting the young man and the house elf outside. Crouch went downstairs and began to look out of the window to the area where two people were standing, though only one was visible. Winky's argument had not entirely convinced him, and his stomach began to twist into knots as he thought of all that could go wrong. The house-elf had promised that she would use her magic to restrain Barty should he begin to ponder an escape, but -
Crouch froze. A loud knocking had come from the twin oak front doors. Rushing over to a window, he chanced a peek outside. Two people stood there. Cornelius Fudge, clad in his usual bowler hat, and his wife, a tall woman with shining auburn hair and hands that seemed far too big for her spindly arms.
Crouch backed away from the window, his heart beating considerably faster. "Damn." He whispered to himself. If no one answered the door, Fudge and his wife would most likely think something was wrong. Like most house-elves, Winky very rarely left the house when her master wasn't home. Through the window, it sounded as though Mr. And Mrs. Fudge had just struck on that very thought.
"You'd think that at least the house-elf would be in."
"Perhaps she's gone out back. I've heard of people who have their elves do the gardening as well as indoor tasks."
"I'll go look for her, dearest. House-elves usually know where to find their masters, perhaps she'll tell us where old Barty's gotten to."
Crouch's heart, which had been beating a mile a minute, nearly stopped. He had no choice but to invite them in. If he didn't, the entire Bertha Jorkins affair was sure to play itself out over again. Fudge would walk around back and hear their voices... Crouch shuddered as he reached for the door handle and pulled it open so quickly that it ricocheted against the wall with a loud bang that made him wince. Both Fudges seemed startled by his abrupt appearance, but the Minister recovered in an instant, dashing up to Crouch and shaking his hand warmly. "Barty! How have you been? Julia and I were getting worried, we were about to go looking for your house-elf to see if she knew where to find you!"
Crouch managed a shaky, forced smile although his mind was in the backyard, willing Barty and Winky to wait a moment longer before coming in. "Well, I'm right here Cornelius." He said, looking nervously around before inviting them in, his eyes darting towards the back door. The Minister and his wife helped themselves to the sofa once they were in the living room, and Crouch said awkwardly, "Was there something you wanted to see me about, Cornelius?" He really hoped that they weren't here for conversation, as the time he'd given Barty outside was nearly up, but his luck that day seemed to be all bad.
The Minister seemed surprised by his question and looked at Crouch strangely as he asked, "Didn't you get our note Barty? We said we'd be stopping by for a Christmas visit today."
Crouch silently cursed owl post as he answered. "I never got a note."
Mrs. Fudge suddenly piped up. "Well, I suppose that's what we get for trying to use a Post Office owl instead of our own. The idiot bird will probably show up here tomorrow with our letter torn and stained." Crouch had forgotten how much Julia enjoyed complaining.
The room was filled with an awkward silence for a few moments, with Crouch listening closely for the sound of the back door opening and Mr. And Mrs. Fudge peering around at the living rooms large pictures. Crouch noticed that Mrs. Fudge's eyes lingered on a picture of his son, the only one he'd allowed his wife to leave out after Barty's arrest, and he grimaced as her mouth tightened and eyes narrowed. Nicole Longbottom had been one of her best friends in school, and Crouch shuddered as he wondered how she would react if she discovered that the object of her despise was just outside.
Fudge seemed to have noticed where his wife's eyes were directed, and he quickly cleared his throat. "I had forgotten what a nice house you have Barty, it's been so long since my last visit. It just looks as though things might get a bit... lonely, what with you living by yourself now."
"Well, Winky's still here, isn't she?" Crouch said, suppressing a scowl. His tone clearly hinted that he had no desire to talk about the residents of his home, but Fudge, who either didn't care that his host was becoming uncomfortable or simply hadn't noticed, laughed aloud.
"Come off it Barty! I mean to say, house-elves are wonderful for work- it's practically all they know, but it's not as though you could actually have a conversation with one." Fudge laughed again and his wife joined him. Neither seemed to realize that they were the only ones who had found anything amusing about the idea of having a house-elf as one's only companion.
As their laughter subsided, Mrs. Fudge suddenly became very serious and said, "Really though Barty, have you ever considered meeting someone new now that Secilia's passed on? I mean, I realize that you're older now, but I've a friend, Angelina, who I'm sure would love to meet you..."
Crouch wasn't able to hide his annoyance any longer. "I'm sure you had good intentions, Julia," he hissed through his teeth. "But if the only reason you came was to convince me to remarry, you've wasted your time." A fury was building up inside of him at the insolence of this woman, inviting herself into his home and casually asking if he was thinking of replacing his deceased wife, as though she were simply an object of glass or porcelain that had broken and was to be instantly forgotten as soon as another took it's place.
Mrs. Fudge looked visibly affronted, and she said stiffly, "It was merely a suggestion."
Fudge could feel the tension between his wife and fellow Ministry member, and tried cheerfully to turn the conversation in another direction. "Come now Julia, this is a Christmas visit, we needn't talk about such somber things! Say Barty, have you heard any news about the Quidditch World Cup? Ireland versus Bulgaria, it's sure to be quite an exciting match."
"You know I don't follow quidditch, Cornelius."
"Well, I know you've never been a fan of any sport, Barty, but what with Ludo Bagman bouncing around the office nowadays, I just thought..." Crouch had to suppress a sigh. He wasn't the least bit interested in quidditch, but he let Fudge talk on, nodding every once in a while to make the Minister think he was listening.
***** Outside, meanwhile, Barty was being his usual self, trying to make things as difficult as possible for his father's poor house- elf. The twenty minutes that Mr. Crouch had allowed were up, but Barty refused to go back inside. He was shivering in the cold December air, as the thin material of the Invisibility Cloak offered little protection against the biting frost, but he wasn't ready to go inside just yet. There was no guarantee that his father would ever allow him outside again, and escape had been the one thing on Barty's mind since he'd stepped out of the house. The Crouches had no neighbors who lived within seeing distance, so being caught right away wasn't something he was concerned about, but with the entire wizarding world still peeking out of the corners of their eyes for Death Eaters, it wasn't as though he could simply take the Knight Bus to Albania. Barty looked up at the house. Something had clearly distracted his father or he would have been dragged inside the very second that the twenty minutes had passed.
Winky wasn't a big concern either. House-elves don't deal with cold very well, and with merely her tea towel for protection, poor Winky was slowly turning the same shade of gray as the dismal winter sky. With luck, the elf's freezing limbs would distract her long enough for him to slip away.
He suddenly felt her tug on the hem of his robes, her teeth chattering in the bitter cold. "M-master Barty, we is to be going in- inside now." She sneezed and began to pull him forward. Barty followed her, planning on waiting until they were nearer to the house to make his escape. Winky looked back over her shoulder every few minutes as though to check that he was still following. This didn't do her very much good though, as Barty was still under the Invisibility Cloak.
As they neared the house, Barty prepared himself to slip away. He would have to move fast. Winky wasn't very quick on her short legs, but she would surely tell his father before attempting to catch him herself...
They both stopped in the same instant. Winky and her charge both stood stock-still, listening to the voices carrying on the air from inside the house. They could hear Fudge's loud, cheerful voice carrying on about the Quidditch World Cup.
"... I've heard good things about the Bulgarian team, Barty. Got a very fine seeker, I'm told. I myself have a bit of money on them to win. Perhaps you'd also like to..."
Mr. Crouch seemed to know what Fudge was about to say, and he answered the question before it was asked. "I don't gamble Cornelius, you know that."
"Well yes, of course I know..." Fudge sounded more than slightly embarrassed.
As the Minister continued, Barty looked down at Winky. She was standing with her large ears quivering, listening to every word that was being said inside of the house. He saw his chance, and took it.
Slipping quietly away, Barty was very glad that there was no snow on the ground to leave footprints and make him easy to track. Instead, it was dry and frozen, leaving no signs of where he'd been.
The Crouches had no fence around their yard, a good thing for Barty. Winky would have surely heard him if he'd had to climb a fence to escape.
At that moment, the house-elf took her eyes off of her master's house, and, suddenly remembering her charge, called out softly, "Master Barty?" When there was no answer, the elf felt her stomach begin to tie into knots. "Master Barty, where is you at?" She tried again, her tiny voice cracking on the last word. When there was no answer, she panicked, running towards the house as fast as her small legs could take her.
Meanwhile, Barty was slumped against a large tree still within seeing distance of his father's house. All the years of being cooped up inside had weakened his muscles, and he'd become winded after the first few meters of running.
He'd never thought about exactly where he was escaping to, either. Of course Albania would be his final destination, but he would have to stay somewhere for at least that one night. It wasn't as though he, a wanted man, could just hop on the Knight Bus. Barty looked around him. He could only see a few houses scattered around, most of them large manor houses like his own. He sat down to think for a moment, but nothing came to him until he saw a large, familiar looking house off in the distance. *The Malfoys! *
Barty remembered vividly how his parents had always disliked living so near the Malfoy family. Still, the Malfoys were an old, rich pureblood family not unlike themselves, so it stood to reason that they would live in the same area of large, richly furnished wizarding houses. From a very young age, Barty could remember his parents dragging him over to Malfoy Manor nearly every month to attend Narcissa's dinner parties and the like. His parents had both insisted that it was the neighborly thing to do, but as a young child, Barty had seen his father watching Lucius Malfoy very closely with a suspicious look in his eyes, and wondered if that was also the neighborly thing to do.
Now, Barty began to run for the large manor in the distance, praying that Lucius Malfoy would help out a fellow Death Eater. He hesitated though.
Lucius had obviously never made any attempt to search for his master. From what Barty had read in the newspapers, he had talked his way out of Azkaban by saying that Lord Voldemort had controlled him with the Imperius Curse. If Lucius had denied his support of Voldemort, it surely meant that he'd turned to the Ministry and had no intention of helping his Lord (or any fellow Death Eaters who might happen turn up on his doorstep.)
Barty turned around, nodding to himself in firm resolution. Lucius would not help him. He began to hurry in another direction; towards a muggle road that he knew was located just out of seeing distance. Everyone in the wizarding world knew his face, but a muggle wouldn't have looked twice at him.
Being a Death Eater, Barty hated the idea of associating with muggles, but if he could just make it to Albania...
At that same moment, Winky burst into the living room where Mr. Crouch and his unexpected guests were sitting. Mr. And Mrs. Fudge simply stared in shocked surprise at the shivering, distressed elf, but Crouch, who had realized immediately that Winky's charge was not with her, stood up, his face paling. "What is the meaning of this Winky?" he had to work hard to keep his voice from shaking. "I believe I gave you specific orders you were to be carrying out."
"M-master, you is needing to come outside, quickly!" she cast a glance at the Fudges, too frightened to say more.
The Minister seemed to have realized that it would be a very good idea for their visit to end, and quickly, because he stood up, saying awkwardly, "Well Barty, I suppose you've got something to attend to, so..." he gave a loud cough. "Perhaps it would be best if we ended our visit later. Tomorrow, perhaps?"
"What? Oh... yes, tomorrow. You can show yourselves to the door, can't you? I'm afraid I really must hurry... thank you for coming, both of you." Even in a state of panic no one could ever say that Barty Crouch Sr. had forgotten his manners.
"Goodbye then." Fudge said awkwardly, and pulled his startled wife towards the front doors with him.
As soon as they were gone, Crouch bolted outside. Knowing what he would find, he peered desperately around the yard, and cursed when his worst suspicions were confirmed. He whipped around, glaring daggers at his shaking elf. "You were supposed to be watching him, Winky!"
"Master, Winky is doing her best! I-"
"You weren't watching him carefully enough!" the elf opened her mouth to speak, but her master cut her off. "If you had been paying attention you could have stopped him with your own magic! I've told you several times you have license to use it on him!" He turned toward the empty yard again, too furious with his servant to say any more. That damned elf! This was all her fault. First she'd begged him to let Barty outside, and then neglected the simple task he had given her. Still, his son didn't have a wand with him, and there was, perhaps, one spell that might find him...
Barty Jr. could now see the road in the distance. As a child, he had been forbidden to go near it, which of course meant that he had snuck out numerous times simply for the sake of disobeying his father's orders. As he approached his destination, he saw that something was taking place on the little stretch of road. A long line of muggle cars was backed up behind two other cars that had obviously collided. Barty scoffed at the stupidity of muggles. They couldn't even control their own machines!
Muggles were standing outside of their cars, waving their fists at a group of official-looking men and women who were speaking with three bruised men, the owners of the two vehicles.
"C'mon, get going!"
"We've got places to be!"
"Can't you at least move the damn things so the rest of us can get through?"
Barty was now standing by the side of the road, although he was still wearing the Invisibility Cloak and none of the people could see him. He peered about at all of the cars, looking for someone who might be willing to give a poor stranger a ride. His eyes fell on a large, shining new car with four people in it. One of them was a large man who was grumbling to the woman next to him. The man's head was protruding from the open window of his car, and Barty could hear what he was saying.
"- just because some idiots can't drive, the rest of us suffer. I tell you Petunia, if I was running this country, you can bet I'd see to it that these people never put foot to a gas pedal again!"
In the back, an enormous boy who nearly took up two seats was shoving a much smaller, rather scrawny looking boy against the door. "Move over! I want more room!"
"Most people would have enough room to stretch their legs out in the space you're sitting in!" The scrawny boy shot back. He moved over as far as he could though, and began looking out the window, green eyes peering up momentarily at the dismal sky. His messy black hair was covering his forehead, so Barty didn't recognize him to be Harry Potter, his master's "downfall."
Barty turned his eyes from the scene on the road and headed for a small cluster of trees nearby, working out a plan in his head as he went. Under cover of the trees he would remove the Invisibility Cloak, then return to the road and find a muggle to drive him away. It didn't really matter where, he thought. *Once I'm far enough from Father, I can work my way to Albania in safety. And then..." he smiled to himself, pulling the Cloak off and tucking it under his arm. He tried to roll the bundle of cloth up as tightly as possible, to hide the fact that it was not made of ordinary material.
"Ichnos!" Crouch whispered, holding his wand so that the tip was touching the spot of ground where Winky and Barty Jr. had last been standing. Immediately, two sets of footprints appeared where before there had been only solid, frozen earth. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't been sure if the Tracking Spell would work, or if the trail his son had left would be too old. It didn't take very long for a trail to wear away under the spell, so he would have to hurry. One of the trails, tiny footprints that led up to the house, obviously belonged to Winky, but someone much larger, Barty Jr, made the other.
Crouch began to follow his son's trail, hurrying along as quickly as he could. When he reached the spot where Barty had started towards Lucius Malfoy's house but then turned back again, he could tell exactly what his son had been thinking. He ran on, his eyes never leaving the tracks he was following. He knew perfectly well what Barty Jr. intended to do, and his breath caught in his throat as he thought about it. It would be all his fault. All his fault if Voldemort rose again, helped along by Barty.
Nearing the road he peered around, fearing that he was too late. At that moment he saw something move in the trees, and his son stepped out. They stared at each other for a moment. Barty Jr. had obviously not expected his father to find him so quickly, and likewise Mr. Crouch had not expected Barty to be bold enough to take off the Invisibility Cloak.
Barty darted away suddenly, abandoning his plan to find a ride with the muggles. He couldn't go back to be imprisoned again! His father ran after him, cursing Winky again for causing the disaster.
Only the fact that Barty hadn't left the house in over a decade saved his father. Crouch was much older of course, and he had never been in top physical condition, even in his younger days, but walking around the Ministry building every day was still better exercise than being kept indoors for almost thirteen years.
He caught up with his son, who was desperately struggling to put the Invisibility Cloak back on, and pulled out his wand. "Stupefy!"
Barty froze instantly and toppled onto the frozen ground, unconscious. Breathing hard, his father pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head, once more shielding him from view. The elder Crouch stopped for a moment, his heart beating from both the gut-wrenching fear he'd had in his stomach throughout the entire ordeal, and the chase that had followed.
Heart still fluttering, he felt about on the ground for a moment before finding the limp, unconscious form of his son, and dragged the boy -although Barty was now in his thirties, Crouch still thought of him as a child- all the way back to the house.
Winky was waiting for them, hopping anxiously up and down with her tiny hands over her mouth. Crouch shot a venomous look in her direction, which stated quite clearly: *You'll be dealt with later, elf. *
He then stormed past her and up the stairs, depositing a still- invisible Barty Jr. onto the bed in his room. Before leaving, however, he turned around and looked at the supposedly empty spot on the mattress again.
It struck him then that when he'd encountered Barty by the road, his son had been visible. He'd somehow managed to take the Cloak off despite the Imperius Curse his father had placed on him. For a moment Crouch felt his blood run cold. Could Barty be throwing off the curse already? He had never considered how the boy would be controlled when he began deflecting his father's enchantments entirely.
Of course... the spell's caster * had* been rather distracted at the time of Barty's escape. *And come to think of it, * Crouch said to himself. * My wand was lying on the table beside me and not in my hand. Yes, perhaps that's it. I simply lost control of the curse for a moment. * He nodded his head decisively, leaving his son's room and heading down the stairs.
When he passed by Winky, who was carrying a basket of laundry nearly twice her size, the elf cringed as though waiting for her master to reach out and strike her. Crouch's anger had not waned at all, and he felt like doing just that. Instead he held his tongue. The house-elf would not get away without being punished, of course, but he still depended on her to watch over Barty while he was away. For the moment, dismissing her entirely was out of the question.
Still, if there was one more mistake on her part...
A/N: I know that was a crappy ending for this chapter, but I really wanted to get started on the events at the World Cup. Review, my little readers, review!