Word Count: 920
Written For:
- Fairytales Class: Write about a minor character (less than 3000 stories written for them on the site) Prompts used: [Dialogue] "It's... you.", [Emotion] Worthlessness
- Fairytales Extra Credit: Include a fat mouse called Gus Gus and a cat called Lucifer.
- Gringotts Prompt Bank/Charmed: (Action) People moving closer to one another in a photo, (Location) Attic
Flower in the Attic
No one even knows how hard life was, I don't even think about it now because I've finally found you.
Barty sighed from his position on the floor in the attic. The sun was setting; he could see the last few rays of sunlight vanishing over the horizon through his small, circular window.
He didn't live up in the attic by choice. It was the part of the house where his father chose to keep him, after he was smuggled out of Azkaban in place of his dying mother. Mr Crouch could no longer bear the sight of Barty, and when he wasn't trapped under an invisibility cloak, he was condemned up to his attic, with the door locked and the key hidden in the pocket of Mr Crouch's robes.
Winky was supposed to completely ignore Barty while he was locked in the attic, but she risked her position as his House Elf to sneak up and give him sweets, small mementos that might cheer him up a little. It was almost as if Barty had brought a Dementor back from Azkaban with him—the dreadful feeling of worthlessness seemed to radiate from his body and spread around the entire house. Barty often wondered if this was another reason that Mr Crouch chose to keep him locked up in the attic.
Barty picked up a filthy old picture frame, something that had been tossed in the attic long before Barty had returned from Azkaban. It was a picture of a time that Barty almost couldn't remember—himself as a child, with his smiling, wispy-haired mother on one side, and his moustachioed father on the left, sporting much less silver streaks in his hair than he did nowadays. Even though Mr Crouch's smile didn't quite meet his eyes; as though there were another deep thought in his mind that needed his attention, Barty could tell that he was happier, here. They all were.
He resisted the urge to shatter the frame against the wall as the three people bunched together closer in the photo. Instead, he set it down on the floor quietly, and shoved it under his rickety, metal-framed bed, hoping he could forget about it.
Before he could jump in his bed and pull the covers over his head, a familiar squeaking sound interrupted him. He looked over to the now-dark window, where a brown, fat little mouse was perched on the window, squeaking manically at him.
"What's the matter with you, Gus-Gus?" he snapped irritably, glaring at the mouse. It had been easy to find himself making friends with anything he came into contact with. So far, he had befriending a large garden spider that made it's home in the corner of his attic, a lone bat who huddled on the rafters for most of the day, but flew around madly during the night, and Gus-Gus—who was the friendliest of the animals he had met. Gus-Gus seemed to sense Barty's loneliness, and always returned to the attic - though, it was probably because Barty had beginning saving scraps of cheese from his sandwiches for the little mouse.
Barty tried to ignore the mouse by jumping into his bed and turning to face the wall, but the mouse scuttled over to him and nibbled on his ear. Squeak, squeak! He urged desperately, right into the hollow of Barty's ear. Barty sat up and grasped his hands around the chubby rodent and stared into his tiny face. Squeak, squeak! The mouse repeated, swivelling his head towards the circular window. Barty groaned and climbed out of bed, wandering over to the window and placing Gus-Gus back on the window ledge.
Gus-Gus circled manically around the windowsill, before batting his nose repeatedly against the glass. Barty was about to open the window and shove Gus-Gus out, when a little, ebony black face made him jump. A sleek, short-haired cat had jumped from the roof onto the outside window ledge, and was staring through the window with odd, dark eyes.
Gus-Gus jumped down from the ledge, squeaking for England, and bolted under the bed. The cat outside sniffed at the window and began purring, as though quietly asking for entry. Once Barty had made sure that Gus-Gus was out of sight from a potential predator, he unlatched the window. The cat slid in neatly, and jumped down onto the floor, landing neatly on the pads of his feet.
Barty knelt down and stroked the cats head gently, and it arched into his hand, purring loudly. As it weaved around Barty's legs, he smiled. "Are you going to stay here with me?" he looked into the cats deep, glittering eyes, which seemed oddly familiar. "I think I'll call you Lucifer."
The cat suddenly darted away from Barty, as though offended by his choice of name. It trotted over to the bed, jumping onto the mattress and burying itself under the covers. Barty was just heading over to try and reconcile with the cat, when he was surprised by a loud pop! and the cat-sized lump in the blankets suddenly grew larger, more person sized.
A dark-haired head popped out from the top of the blankets, grinning. "Its...you?" Barty gasped, his eyes wide. The man who sat under the covers before him was none other than Regulus Black. "I thought you were dead! You're an Animagus?"
"You can't get rid of me that easily, Barty," chuckled Regulus. "Now lets get out of here."
