Value and Worth, Chapter 3

~o0o~

The house was quaint and in the middle of nowhere. Trees surrounded the area, encircling the house and small yard, the view therefore an abundance of green, with the exception of a babbling brook nearby. There was no sign of human life anywhere. In other words, the place had everything that would make Hermione's time here awful. There would be Aurors on call (they weren't anyone she knew and they had agreed to not speak of anything they saw, nor to seek out knowledge beyond what was required to do anything other than assisting as security if summoned). But other than that, she and Barty were truly alone.

Hermione took a moment to observe the forest surrounding them, a part of her forming an emergency plan and route if it all went to hell. It was something she hadn't been able to shake from her time during the war. Ron had tried to ease her from it, even having resorted to making jokes like 'Blimey, 'Mione, perhaps you should be the Auror instead of Harry and me'. The jokes belonged to the more infuriating memories from their time together, but also fell in among the fondest. Which had practically been the perfect description of their relationship to be quite honest. Infuriating, but fond. Oh, how she hated to think what he and Harry would make of this situation should they ever hear of it. No doubt they'd storm over here, demand Hermione to come back with them. To keep her safe. But she'd learned a long time ago that they couldn't. Hermione's hand went to cover the spot where her scar was, to where she'd been branded. No, Hermione thought, they couldn't protect her. Only she could. Which was why she kept on scouting the area with her eyes. However . . . it was made tremendously difficult by Barty's stare burning her neck.

The man had unsettled her since the very moment he'd walked out the walls of Azkaban. He'd barely resisted, with the exception being if someone touched him or closed in on him, but during the portkey travel itself he'd been compliant, as if he knew what awaited (Hermione wasn't naïve enough to imagine they'd told him anything beforehand and therefore found this fact disconcerting). As if that hadn't been enough, he'd been civil. She'd thought that the lack of bars would have him attack her and exact his revenge, but so far nothing. He'd merely looked at her with those black eyes of his, noticing her hair cut when she'd given up restraining it in that feeble bun. But he'd made no comment, only visibly filing that information away for later. For what, she had no idea. But she wasn't looking forward to finding out.

Someone cleared their throat and Hermione jumped a bit in surprise. She saw Barty nod at the house.

Hermione raised her chin, not wanting him to think he could boss her around. But she moved towards the house anyway, looking at anything but him as she did, not waiting to see his surely gleeful expression. She walked right up to the door which was carved with runes. A lot of runes.

She turned. "These aren't the only ones, just so you know. The whole area has them."

Barty raised an eyebrow. "If I'd wanted to escape I would have cut your throat by now."

Hermione blinked and faced the door again. "All right," she responded, at a loss at what else to say. She opened.

The house was old on the outside, the stonewalls noticeably missing a piece or two in several areas with green vines clinging to the surface, but inside it was much homier than she would have thought. According to the notes, they'd wanted to experiment around with Barty and while there might be an environmental change as soon as they saw fit, Hermione found no objection to this particular interior. That thought didn't last long however. Or more specifically, it didn't last past the hallway.

There were no crooks and crannies, Hermione observed quickly, and the whole bottom floor was open planned, presumably to avoid Barty sneaking up on her. Brilliant.

The hallway had led directly to the small kitchen, fitted with a table for two and a fireplace joining it together to the living room where there was a sofa and a bookshelf placed along the wall, facing the fireplace. The meagre collection residing on the bookshelf made Hermione sad. The wooden walls were devoid of any moving paintings, and instead held pictures showcasing different types of flowers. It strangely reminded Hermione of the waiting room in her parents' old practice.

Barty had been standing next to her the entire time, silently observing everything as well, and he was hard to read. She glanced at him for a few seconds before he caught her looking and forced her to look away. She knew he didn't like being looked at, their sessions had proved as much. But without the bars separating them (and the shackles around his hands that had been removed right before the Aurors left) she found herself less bold and averted her eyes rather quickly. Yes, there were spells in place preventing him from hurting or touching her without her permission, but they weren't tangible. She could only feel them if she concentrated and right now she was too nervous to concentrate on anything.

"Second floor next, I suppose," she said and walked up. She found, once again, an open floor plan. Two doors were on either end and she assumed those were the bedrooms. A door in the middle led to what she now realised was the only bathroom in the house. She couldn't believe it. They had to share. "I hate my job," Hermione muttered, walking with dejected steps toward one of the bedrooms. She peeked inside and found that it would have to do, comforting herself with the reminder that she most likely wouldn't be staying there throughout the entire week anyway.

Done with looking at the room, Hermione turned. And came face to face with Barty.

She gave a shriek, knocking her poor heel into the door in the process, all while Barty looked on amusedly and made no inclination of backing away anytime soon. With the door closed, she was pressed between it and him—the latter not touching her, but nevertheless too close for comfort. Her fists clenched and she forced herself to be brave.

"Would you step away, please?"

He cocked his head, as if not understanding. A frustrated noise made itself heard from the back of her throat.

"Step away. Please."

It took a second, but against all odds, Barty moved. He took a step back, granting her her breathing room, though without taking his eyes off her. It made the hairs on her neck stand. She repressed a shudder. "Thank you. And unless you want it, I think I'll take this bedroom. Though to be honest, I don't mind either way."

"You don't want to be here," he observed, changing the subject rather abruptly and speaking for only the second time since arriving.

Hermione would have laughed if she wasn't afraid what he'd do if she did. She wasn't sure what to say, because it was true that she didn't want to be here, but only because it was with him. She wanted to work on the research, she wanted to study, but she did not want it to be with him, near him or about him.

When she said nothing, he spoke again. "I'll take the other one." And after that strange display he moved to the other bedroom.

Hermione sighed. It was going be a long year.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Barty cursed. The witch wanted nothing to do with him, not to mention that she'd gone as far as to cut off the hair he'd touched. The one mark he'd made on her frail little body she'd taken away. It had taken all of his willpower not to lash out at that. And now, trapped in this godforsaken house, with trees and bird song and fields of flowers in the middle of nowhere . . . It wasn't that he'd rather be in Azkaban, far from it, but at least in Azkaban they'd had weaker spell work. This was exhausting. Simply taking a glimpse inside her head just now had drained him. Luckily, though he knew Hermione was decent at occlumency, she'd been distracted. In his cell he'd never got the chance to go through her mind, her shields being alert and up the entire time. The environment certainly doing no favours in relaxing them. But there had been one exception. When she'd dropped that muggle quill.

From then on, Barty had formed a hypothesis. He knew that when she was distracted she was at her most vulnerable, so he'd tried repeatedly to make it happen. He had asked her questions, or made absurd statements during her questionings. But none of that had fazed her. It appeared now that physical intimacy was what really distracted Hermione Granger.

So what was he going to do? Distract her.

Since she had turned out to be his new warden and examiner, Barty had known he couldn't leave. She was his destination and she was here. He would simply have to distract her. Distract her and he could sway her. Persuade her to do what she needed to do. And by doing so, he'd have what he wanted.

Not to mention that peeking inside her head could help determine exactly what he needed to do to halt the research. If he gave them what they all needed too soon, she'd be gone and he'd be back in a prison cell. Or dead.

No, he couldn't let any of that happen. It was time to take action. He couldn't fail this mission like he'd failed to be there for the Dark Lord.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Hermione's stomach growled. Again.

She sighed.

Though knowing she couldn't avoid Barty forever, she was still convinced that the least she could do was try. And though she felt ashamed staying in her room for the entire afternoon, it had given her time to come to terms with what was actually happening. Like it or not, she was living in a house with a Death Eater, and a highly devoted and mentally unstable one at that. But after unpacking her clothes and books, and her stomach demanding food for a fourth time in the last hour, she had to reconsider. Perhaps it was time to emerge from her safe place.

Closing the drawers, she wondered if Barty had anything to unpack. Did he have spare clothes or anything that was his at all? He'd been wearing prison clothes when escorted out of Azkaban, but since he would be living here now, wouldn't it make sense to rid himself of those?

No, Hermione chided herself, do not make him a new project. He's not an innocent house-elf, he's a murderer. You don't knit mittens for murderers.

Her stomach growled again. Finally seeing no other choice than to obey, Hermione opened the door to her bedroom, the creak resulting being far too loud in her opinion. In spite of herself, she first checked to see if Barty was outside. When all she found was an empty space and the door to Barty's bedroom closed, Hermione tip toed down the stairs excitedly. Sadly, her excitement was instantly crushed, because while the door to his bedroom may have been closed, Barty Crouch Jr wasn't in it. He was in the kitchen. And he was surrounded by leftovers on the table.

At the sound of her arrival, his head had snapped up, the ends of his hair wet and dripping at the motion, suggesting he'd taken a shower. His clothes were new, and while not exceptionally looking, the dark purple shirt and black pants suited him and he wore them well. When Hermione returned to look at his face she found him watching her, wiping a crumb off the corner of his thin mouth with his thumb as he did. "Come out of your cave, have you?"

"You shouldn't eat too much," Hermione said, ignoring his taunt, "Your stomach isn't used to it. You could get sick." She flinched when his laughter—a hint of crazy colouring it—echoed throughout the room.

At her silence, he was prompted to settle down after a while (and even that had taken too long in Hermione's opinion), and he shrugged his narrow shoulders. "I've had worse than a bad stomach ache, believe me."

She scoffed. "Oh, I do," she said under her breath. He obviously heard her for there was a smile on him when she looked again. Bracing herself, Hermione approached slowly, steering for the charmed cupboard where food was supposed to be stored according to the 'brochure' she'd been granted. The thought of that bloody piece of paper made her seethe. It was as if her superiors thought they were sending her to a hotel.

Barty's stare followed her the entire way as Hermione moved past the table, and she urged herself not to glance back. Having her back turned against him was horrible as ever, but it was something she needed to do if she was going to get him to . . . for a lack of a better word; respect her. No answers would come if he thought he could intimidate her. It was something she'd noticed back in Azkaban. While Barty had been co-operative for the most part, this had only occurred after she'd agreed to tell him about the war. When she'd willingly and knowingly shared with him the fact that she had played a major part in the scheme that got his master defeated. No matter what that meant for her personal safety when around him.

There was the rustle of fabric behind her, accompanied by the smell of soap.

"Find anything?" Barty asked, his warm breath caressing her neck.

Suddenly, a force of energy pushed Barty away from her, making him crash to the floor. Hermione breathed in relief. The runes worked.

"I—I suggest you don't do that in the future," Hermione said, looking down at him while he rose back up. "I told you there were spells installed. I was lenient on you before, because I wanted to give you a chance to stay away out of your own free will, but apparently you can't. From now on, I won't hesitate. Don't come near me unless I tell you, understood?"

To her surprise, Barty's previously angered expression—the one that promised pain and bloodshed— twisted. He smirked. "And in what sort of situation would you ask me to come near you, Hermione?"

The suggestive and intense gaze he sent combined with the use of her name, made her blush. "For research!" she spluttered. She moved a lock of hair behind her ear and urged her pulse to slow down. "Which reminds me, I have to inform you of the reason why you're here. I take it they didn't brief you at Azkaban?"

"The only thing they told me over there was to rot and die," he said matter-of-factly.

"Right . . . anyway," Hermione said and began explaining the purpose of the research, and examples of things she'd look at. ". . . however, some of these experiments are to be conducted without your knowledge, so there will be instances where I won't inform you of when you're being watched."

Barty grinded his teeth, looking truly uncomfortable for the first time. "Splendid."

"Furthermore, I won't be here at all times," Hermione continued, not missing the flicker of fury passing through his black eyes. It terrified her, for she had no idea what had brought it on. Then again, she shouldn't forget who she was dealing with. Mood swings was sure to be expected from Barty Crouch Jr. "Erm, so I'll have certain days away from here. They'll inform me when, and while I'm away you'll be alone. But Aurors will always be at the ready, of course," she added so that he wouldn't get any ideas.

". . .that's curious, don't you think?" he asked, but not looking at her as he did. He appeared amused for some reason.

Hermione blinked in confusion. "What do you mean—where are you going?"

Barty looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. "You were done, weren't you?"

"Yes, I suppose—"

"Well then." And without waiting for another response, he left. The sound of the door leading outside was heard shortly thereafter.

Alone at last, Hermione sighed exhaustedly and made to prepare herself some food, but not before glancing at the table. Everything that had looked chaotic before was upon closer inspection rather neat. There were many things across the table, yes, but each and every one of the plates had a near equal amount of food taken away, not to mention that there was a nicely folded napkin placed to the side. Astonished, Hermione let her jaw drop a bit at that part.

True, Barty was a mentally unstable killer that had recently been released from prison, but he was also a Pureblood. He'd been raised with etiquette. For all Hermione knew, he might even have cursed people with his little finger poised.

"I don't understand him," she muttered, and with a wave of her wand sent the plates he'd apparently deemed below him to wash, to the sink.

~o0o~

A/N: And so the quirky living situations begin! How are you liking it so far?

Don't worry, there'll be more stuff happening, the two of them are just settling in for now is all!

Thank you so much for the kind reviews you wrote! They've given me motivation to see this story through even more!

Until next time!
/Primrue