I couldn't believe the nerve of that half-breed whore. To double cross me, to turn her back on what we had and to become the puppet and love toy of our master...No. She was the puppeteer and he was dancing on string for her. Giving her all she wants and never testing her loyalty like he should.
Where as I am tested night and day. Given tasks of pure evil magic. Using the three Unforgivables almost every single day. Not only that but I am paired with the obnoxious Bellatrix whom constantly reminds me that her and her little pet are the favourites of my Lord and I am just another lowly death eater who is at the bottom of the barrel.
I finished school with my full honours and my poor sickly Mother begged my father to give me a job in the ministry with him. Every single second that ticked by filled me with frustration and boredom. I dreaded waking in the morning to the point when it came to killing those muggleborns at night I relished in the smell of their blood and their screams of terror. I noticed my twitch became more and more apparent in these days. And so did my father. He regularly scolded and chastised me for being like a snake in the grass. Scurrying around like I had something to hide. Little did he know I was always hiding something. Each time he gave me some menial task to do I envisioned his eyes widening with fear while I wrapped my fingers around his scrawny throat.
Each morning I awoke and helped my Mother into the kitchen. She was the one person who had never wanted any more for me than to be happy and healthy. I tried my best to keep my pain at living from her. She didn't need the added worry. But I guess it wasn't my choice to make that morning. The first thing that went wrong is that I burned the toast. A trivial thing really but it upset me enough that it led to me kicking the cat. Which in turn bounded towards coats near the door and knocked them all over. Which I had to clear up of course. And when there was a rapping on our door I was the first to answer it.
They held me back with magic. Tore my wand from my fingers and held me to the staircase. My poor mother wept and pleaded. Asked them why they were doing this. They remained silent. Only told her to step back and allow them to do their jobs.
"You cowards. Fight me wand to wand!" I screamed at them. Struggling against their magical restraint. I heard more footsteps. I knew that stride. The stride I heard every night. He walked through the crowd of men and stood towering over me.
"Bartemius Crouch Jr, you are being arrested on the charge of aiding and abetting He-who-shall-not-be-named and causing the death of dozens of innocent witches and wizards. Also the torture of Neville and Alice Longbottom. You have the right to remain silent but anything you say can and will be held against you."
My Father stared at me the entire time he read off the list of allegations. I glared at him, my tongue twitching over my lip. He knew I was guilty some how and he wanted my Mother to see it. On that day I swore I would never forgive him for shaming me in her eyes. He would be the first death my wand made when I eventually got away from his grasp.