Perceptual Distortions

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter three. I really am enjoying writingthis story and I really hope you are enjoying it nearly as half as I am. Now, I feel I need to justify myself about what I have done to Barty but you can read that note at the end of this chapter. Keep an open mind when reading it. There haven't been too many Barty-fics dealing with him at this age so this is me flying solo. Remember, evil isn't born. Evil is created. There is also a tiny but obvious David Tennant reference in this chapter. Kudos to those who can find it!

I'll hammer up another chapter soon so... Happy New Year!

"Hello. How are you feeling now?"

Hermione gasped and dropped the book she was holding. Professor Dumbledore had told her to wait in the hospital wing until they could come up with a more comfortable solution to her staying in the past for now. Dumbledore had left to owl someone he thought would help the situation and had left Hermione under the watchful eye of a much younger Madam Pomfrey.

Barty nervously walked over to her bed and picked up the dropped book. Hermione's eyes narrowed in instant dislike.

"Oh, I love this book. I find myself agreeing with Roberts about his theories on how the Ancient wizards really used the more agricultural Runes to predict how fertile the soil would be. I really thought he made some interesting points and didn't completely patronise the Ancient wizards like Traynor did. I felt myself ready to throw his book at the wall because of how little credit he gave to the intelligence of the Ancient Egyptian wizards. Bah, what did he say? Something about them acting as Gods so they could gain the trust of the local women? I can't remember... need to read it again. Really preferred Roberts, nevertheless. Hello, these are for you. I picked them myself... thought I'd cheer you up because you were really upset earlier. I'm sorry if I did anything to upset you. Here... they aren't much. Just... well they are transfigured weeds basically. I sort of thought you were a sunflower kind of girl and I couldn't find any outside. So, here you go. Transfigured weeds. Well, it depends on how you view the whole "transfiguration" and "after transfiguration" label because they can be both weeds and sunflowers. I just thought they were pretty and you would like them. Hello, I'm sorry. These are for you."

Barty said all of this very quickly, pacing the ward and gesturing at all of the appropriate moments. Hermione blinked slowly, trying to digest this barrage of information given in a very short period of time. Barty didn't look upset at her moment of silence, instead he looked as though used to people being very quiet after he spoke. He placed the large, vivid sunflowers into a vase Madam Pomfrey had given him as he walked into the Hospital Ward. They really were beautiful, vivid and bright, for transfigured weeds but Hermione appreciated the gesture, nevertheless.

"Thank you..." Hermione absentmindedly smelt the flowers. Strangely enough, they didn't smell like sunflowers. "Roses. You charmed them to smell like roses."

"Well, yes, I did. I think the problem with bringing sunflowers is that the smell can be a little overpowering if you are feeling unwell and, by looking at the paleness of your face, I can safely say you are still not feeling ready to take on the world and all it's glory. It's a simple charm, really, if you think about it. I didn't want to bring roses because, hey, I'm not ready to go there with a girl I just met and who cursed me within ten seconds, before passing out. For all I know you could be a crazy person sent to kill me! So they look like sunflowers and smell like roses. Well, they really are just transfigured weeds. Dandelions, if I remember correctly."

"Thank you."

"It's not a problem. I just wanted to say hello without you, you know, attempting to cleave my hair from my head. I'm Bartemius Crouch Junior, fifth year Ravenclaw and prefect, and I am most definitely at your service. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Miss?"

"March." Hermione hesitated, gently shaking his proffered hand. "My name is Jane March."

"Well, Miss March, on behalf of student population of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I offer to you my most warm of greetings. " He grinned and bowed before her. Hermione's returned smile did not meet her eyes.

"And I would like to say I am bloody well relieved you didn't set more of my hair on fire. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to come up with a charm to grow back burnt hair, never mind get rid of the horrible stink? Madness! Absolute insanity. Oh! Grapes, yum. Do you mind if I...?"

Hermione wordlessly gestured to the boy who grinned and helped himself to a few of the grapes Madam Pomfrey had given her to make her feel more comfortable. Hermione stared at the grape-consuming boy with a frown. He wasn't evil, nor was he a threat to anyone except, perhaps, a grape or two. He wasn't shy either, nor was he unintelligent. Plus, he had one hell of a motor mouth on him. He didn't make her feel inferior, instead, he made her involuntarily relax and enjoy his patter of conversation.

How could this boy be the man she knew?

"Merlin, I'm sorry. You look as though I've just kicked your favourite puppy-dog! I thought you said I could help myself and I kind of did."

"No, it's fine. Sorry, I was just thinking." Hermione hesitated before giving him another smile. It was real this time and his eyebrows rose to the ceiling in reply.

"I understand, Jane." Was Barty's answer as he threw another two grapes in the air and caught them in his mouth. He gave her a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows and a quick wink. "A strapping young stallion like myself alone in your room. Decisions, temptations, deliberations. What to do, what to do! What a complete and utter shame for you."

"You're really different to how I would imagine you would be." Hermione replied with a distant look in her eyes. It was true- Hermione would never have guessed him to be Barty Crouch Junior. He was too friendly, too warm, to be responsible for the deaths of so many people.

Barty's smile froze on his face. His eyes grew cold as he put the grapes back onto Hermione's bedside table.

"You have been speaking to my father, I presume."

Barty quickly stood from his armchair and strode from her bed, despite her silent protests. Hermione frowned in confusion as she watched his retreating back.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss March. You will be sufficiently happy here. Goodbye"

He slammed the door of the Hospital Wing as he burst through it. Hermione bit her bottom lip nervously, deep in thought. He must have thought she was a spy from Mr Crouch, Hermione frowned slightly, he must have expected me to react in a certain way to him.

Not that she cared what he thought.

Definitely not.

Hermione put her head down on the pillow and glumly stared at the rose-scented-sunflower-ex-dandelion creation he had made for her. It really was a beautiful flower. Bright, comforting, cheerful and reminded her of planting sunflowers with her grandmother when she was younger. The magic itself was impressive, showing a clear understanding of transfiguration and charms, not to mention an extensive knowledge of herbology.

The flower may have been beautiful and the magic impressive but the image of this boy searching throughout Hogwarts for a suitable dandelion to transfigure and charm into a perfect flower really meant more than the superficial reality of the flower. It wasn't just a flower, it was a gesture.

A gesture seemingly ruined by a thoughtless comment.

"Oh bum"

Dumbledore had returned with the very uncomforting news that he couldn't find anyone who had a sure-fire knowledge on how Hermione could have been transported into the past, let alone how she could be taken back into the future.

Hermione had spent two days sitting in the Hospital Wing, morosely staring at her sunflower and snapping at Madam Pomfrey who insisted in babying her. He hadn't been back to see her and that thought made her feel worse than before. Hermione had come to the decision to treat everyone in the past as though she didn't know them in the future. She felt it was morally wrong to base her relationships on how someone might turn out in a few years time and she wasn't just referring to her straw-haired visitor.

Hermione had an incident during her first evening in the Hospital Wing whenever a very boisterous group of Gryffindors burst into the Wing in the search for another friend. Remus Lupin, obviously, was not in the Hospital Wing but this did not stop James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew from shouting a cheerful greeting to the bedridden Hermione who, in turn, squeaked in response.

Madam Pomfrey had shooed them out before noticing Hermione's eyes welling with tears, a strange smile playing across her face. 'In a few years time they will...' She knew she could finish that sentence for each of boisterous young men, each with a tragic ending. She knew their stories and knew what would happen to them when they left Hogwarts.

'But you can't think like that' Hermione scolded herself 'This isn't "the past" because you are living in it. This is "the present".'

It seemed as though the Universe, bless it, agreed with this sentiment and this message came in the form of a rather unorthodox temporary solution. Dumbledore suggested to Hermione that she should be sorted into a Hogwarts house until a more permanent solution could be discovered. Hermione nodded resignedly with the news of this shocking turn of events; there was no other way she could get on with it than to accept it. Truthfully, Hermione would have suggested it if Dumbledore had not. She was bored out of her mind and would much rather do something more productive than aimlessly flick through borrowed books.

This is why at around four-thirty on September 10th 1977, Hermione Granger found herself standing outside a door leading to the Great Hall in preparation for the second Sorting of her life so far. Dumbledore was making an announcement to introduce her and to stave off questions until she was seated in her new House. Well, not new in the traditional sense of the term, due to the fact she was more than likely going to be in Gryffindor, but new in the sense no-one she knew was alive, really.

The pointing and the whispering as she made her way down the centre of the Great Hall did nothing to stop her from wanting to run in the opposite direction, bordeness be damned. She focused on Dumbledore's eyes and hands guiding her toward a stool with the battered Sorting Hat she remembered from her first year. The Great Hall was arranged just as she was used to it, a blessing in disguise, as Hermione felt she wouldn't be made a fool off by sitting at the wrong House table. She could vaguely see some familiar faces, varying between peering up at her intently or giving unimpressed looks to their lack of food.

She slipped the hat snugly over her hair and waited for the familiar voice.

The Hat did not disappoint.

"Miss Granger, sorry, Miss March. Professor Dumbledore told me all about you. Yes, very unique case indeed. Where to put you, however? Ah, a Gryffindor in your future but is it for you now? I feel a great wave of Slytherin coming from you, especially after that trick you played on Umbridge during your Fifth year. But no, Slytherin isn't for you. Nor is Hufflepuff. An incredibly keen mind, Ravenclaw would be perfect for you. Gryffindor or Ravenclaw? The bold or the brains. Do you have an opinion on this matter?"

Hermione closed her eyes tightly. She could play it safe and go for Gryffindor, meet James Potter, chill out with Sirius Black, laugh with Peter Pettigrew, talk to Remus Lupin or even befriend Lily Evans. She could tell Harry how they really were, she could give him something taken away from him. She could, once more, do something to make Harry happy. She liked Gryffindor, she was a Gryffindor at heart and she knew that she would always be a Gryffindor. It seemed safe, somehow, like being at home...

"Ravenclaw." She muttered. "I want to be in Ravenclaw."

The Hat opened it's mouth to announce it's decision. The Ravenclaw table erupted with cheers and welcomed her as she took her seat at the table. Hermione smiled indulgently as the clapping died down and Dumbledore gave the all-clear to begin dinner. She caught Dumbledore's eye who in turn raised his goblet with a clear message. Good Luck.

"Hello Jane, right?" A bossy female voice accompanied by the image of a slight blonde with a very determined brow. "I'm Nicole Woods, the idiot on your left is Michael Lawrence, the pouting red head is Naomi Leighton and the guy building a fort from his mashed potatoes is David McDonald. We're all in our seventh year."

Hermione gave each of her new housemates a small smile and a nod in greeting. Their names were unfamiliar and so she felt herself relax. They did seem friendly enough and not quite as snobby as Hermione remembered her Ravenclaws being.

Hermione felt an unexpected tingling sensation as though she was being watched. She hadn't seen Barty when she was walking down to the Sorting Hat, Hermione glanced down the table and recoiled slightly with the intensity of his gaze. His brown eyes seemed almost black in the candlelight, staring at her as though he could see right into her very soul. All traces of the warm, friendly boy had gone and his face was a mask.

Hermione met his gaze and gave him a half-smile, a smile that he returned after blinking himself out his stare.

"What year are you in, Jane?" Nicole brought her from the hypnotic lull his face had created. Hermione shook her head.

"Fifth." Hermione fought to keep her tone from becoming bitter. She should have been in seventh year but she was too young.

"Oh! You'll have to meet some of them." Nicole swivelled in her chair, her keen blue eyes almost scanning for her targets. "Eleanor Martin, can you see her? She's got the huge mop of brown hair. She's a prefect and an absolutely fantastic girl. You'll love her."

Eleanor Martin gave a half-wave from her seat further down the bench. She was a rather confident girl, Hermione mused, watching her pull her friends closer into a conversation. She had extremely long brown hair that went down to the small of her back in a neat plait.

"Who else can I see? Oh! Barty Crouch! Blonde boy, pretty tall with those big browns of his. You see? His father is Bartemius Crouch and a really important politician. Barty is as great a guy as they come, just a bit shy. Hang on, he's pretending he can't hear us... OI! BARTY!"

"Yes?" A cooler tone than the one he had used with her in the Hospital Wing. Nicole didn't seem put off by his aloof attitude.

"This is Jane March. She's in your year."

Barty's eyes snapped back to the goblet of pumpkin juice in front of him. Hermione felt her cheeks flush as a small smile played across his lips.

"Yes, Jane and I go way back." Barty grinned. Hermione relaxed considerably. She had been convinced he would hate her and would hurt her after her slip. "I do hope she is feeling better."

"I do, thank you." Hermione's eyes twinkled. Barty's eyes snapped to hers, all hostility gone and replaced by a slight merriment she hadn't expected to see. "Of course, my speedy recovery was due to a single sunflower."

"I'm glad." Barty's lips pursed tightly in an effort to not laugh. "Just call me Mediwizard Crouch. It was nice speaking to you again, Jane."

"You too, Barty." Hermione's head tilted slightly. "You too."

A/N: The way I see it, Barty was just an ordinary kid before bad things started happening to him and the world around him. I feel he was a Ravenclaw because it was far too easy to put him into Slytherin. I just don't think it would have been such a big surprise if he was in Slytherin, you know? (Not that I'm saying all Slytherins are evil! Honestly, I've been "sorted" into Slytherin so many times that I am madly in love with all things Slytherin!) More the utterly delightful Ravenclaw turned bad. Barty, in this story at least, is a good, decent, likeable kid with a very dark side to him but, hey, isn't everyone? Even Harry andHermione have their canon moments of darkness! I want to explore the reality of corruption and to do that I want to show you Barty before and after. Please, give me a chance!

Hermione went for Ravenclaw over Gryffindor? Well, I did tell you it was set in MWPP but had nothing to do with them. (Maybe not nothing but there certiantely will not be much emphasis on their day-to-day life. Sorry! If you want them, read another story! This is Barty Crouch Jr's chance to shine!) No-one in this story is quite as simple as they might appear and, believe me when I say, Hermione had perfectly good reasons for choosing Ravenclaw.

Again, Happy New Year! May it be 990323248932893 times better than last year!