There's a mix of Harry's and Barty's POVs here. I hope it's not too messed up.

-x-x-x-

Barty returned to his seat, never taking his eyes off Harry. He stared at him for a long while, as if he was studying a particularly interesting specimen.

"I've heard so much about you," he breathed out in awe.

"And I about you," Harry smirked. Then his gaze wandered to the door. "What was that about Neville?"

It took Barty a moment to get his mind off Potter.

"What, the Longbottom kid?" He frowned. When Harry nodded, he explained casually, "His father was an Auror. He and his wife were casualties of the Cruciatus Curse. They were tortured for so long, that they went insane. Didn't you know?"

Harry stared at him in horror.

"No." He knew Neville had been brought up by his grandmother, but he never thought to ask him why. "That's horrible… Who would do such a thing?"

Barty raised an eyebrow and looked at him meaningfully.

"Oh." Harry blinked, as realization dawned on him.

He was torn for a moment, rethinking his recent life choices. He has been looking forward to meeting Barty. Tom thought very highly of his young follower and, for some reason, it made Harry look up to him.

He pondered on exactly who he was looking up to – a convicted Death Eater. Still, it paled next to the fact that he was in a weird relationship with Voldemort himself. But then he remembered he agreed to leave Tom's wrongdoings in the past. It seemed stupid not to extend the courtesy to his most faithful follower.

"Are you sure you're on the right side, Potter?" Barty said with an amused smirk. "The Dark Lord's supporters aren't exactly warm and fuzzy."

Harry glared at him indignantly.

"Just because I don't enjoy torturing people, doesn't mean I don't support him."

Barty shrugged.

"Fair enough. Although," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, "how can you know you don't enjoy it, if you've never tried it?" He grinned suggestively, but at the sight of Harry's appalled face, he shook his head and waved his hand in a forget-it manner. "Never mind. Let's focus on more important things. We've got a busy year ahead of us."

"Yes, we do," Harry agreed in a serious tone. "Wait… A year? So you meant what you said in class, that you're only here for one year?"

"I'm afraid so."

"But wouldn't it make sense for you to stay longer?" Harry knew Barty for no more than two hours, but, despite his mixed feelings, it was liberating to finally be able to talk to someone who knew his secret. The thought of losing the only link connecting him to the real-life Voldemort filled him with deep sadness. "You could pretend Moody doesn't want to go back to retirement after all."

"I don't think that's an option," Barty gave him a kind smile.

"Why not?" Harry said desperately.

"Several reasons, actually. Mad-Eye only agreed to one year as a favor to Dumbledore. Dumbledore, as I saw in Moody's memories, was very specific about it only being one year and no longer. And since you're close with the Dark Lord, I suppose it won't be a secret from you, that my orders are to even cut the year short, if possible." Barty drummed his fingers against the desk, lost in thought. "I'm beginning to think there's something more to it."

"Like what?" he asked curiously.

Barty shrugged.

"A jinx on the position perhaps."

"What?" he stared at the fake Auror horror-struck.

"Do the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers still change every year due to mysterious incidents?"

Harry thought back to his old teachers. So far the incidents have been: Voldemort's face in the back of a head, a memory loss in the Chamber of Secrets and an unfortunate werewolf transformation.

"Well, yeah," he said. "Wait… what do you mean still?"

Barty chuckled darkly.

"It's been this way during my time at Hogwarts as well. I always thought it was a strange coincidence , but now… A jinx seems to be the only logical explanation."

"Huh… What sort of a jinx do you think it is?"

"I don't know. But since Dumbledore wasn't able to lift it for so many years, and the Dark Lord apparently knows about it, my bet is that it's his."

Harry suddenly understood why Tom was so fond of Barty. It really didn't take him long to connect the dots. Harry would have never come up with this conclusion himself.

From what he heard, most Death Eaters were bloodthirsty morons, but Barty was exceedingly smart. That added to his unwavering loyalty certainly did make him Voldemort's best follower.

"If it's his jinx, why can't he lift it then?" he wondered.

"I imagine it would be highly suspicious."

Right, Harry silently agreed with him, marveling at his quick thinking again. Which reminded him…

"So anyway, I hear you're my new mentor."

Barty felt a grin spread on his face. How amazing was that? He was once trained by the Dark Lord, and now he got to train the one bonded to him. He has been given a great honor, he knew.

"Indeed," he said. "Preparing for the Triwizard Tournament will be a perfect excuse for the two of us spending some time after classes."

"Oh?" Harry blinked in surprise. "So I'll be competing after all?"

Barty raised his eyebrows.

"The Dark Lord didn't tell you?"

"I knew he was considering it. He didn't tell me he made up his mind," he explained. "But yeah, we were a bit preoccupied with other stuff last time we spoke…"

His mind drifted to his last dream, when he was lying on the couch by the fireplace, locking lips with Tom passionately, their limbs tangled around each other.

"You'll need to learn Occlumency," Tom had said, sinking his fingers in Harry's hair. "I'd hate for Dumbledore to see us like this."

Harry was dragged out of his memory when Barty winced and blinked, as if someone poked him in the eye.

"Aaah," he held up his hand, looking away. "I didn't need to see this either, Potter."

Harry's eyes widened in shock when he understood what Barty meant.

"Hey!" he said accusingly, and blushed furiously.

"We really do need to make Occlumency number one priority," Barty said, still unwilling to look him in the face. "You're practically shouting your thoughts at me."

"That's only because you're an accomplished Legilimens," he huffed.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately for you, so is Dumbledore. So until you learn to conceal your thoughts, avoid eye contact with him."

Harry nodded sheepishly. Barty couldn't shake off guilt for invading the Dark Lord's privacy, even though it was an accident. On the other hand, he knew his master couldn't exactly be angry with him for it, since he entrusted Barty with teaching the boy Occlumency. He was bound to see more of Potter's private thoughts in the process.

Although he shouldn't pry, he couldn't help wondering about what he saw. His master did tell him he was planning to return to his younger body for several reasons. Barty suspected Potter was the biggest reason. His stray memory seemed to confirm it.

Was this what the Dark Lord would look like after the resurrection ritual? Was this what he looked like as a teenager? Potter would surely know, and he was dying to ask him. But no… it was not his place.

"Why don't we go over the schedule for this year," he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. "We don't have much time and the Dark Lord says you have a lot to learn."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Seriously? He's just telling everyone how uneducated I am?" He sighed. "I'm starting to get it, though. One lesson with you and… I didn't even know the curse my parents died from."

Barty fixed his gaze on Potter. There it was again, the issue that really had him feeling like something about the boy's change of heart just didn't add up.

"At the risk of repeating myself, Potter," he snapped a little more harshly than he intended, "are you sure you're on the right side?"

Harry snorted with anger.

"I don't have to prove myself to you, Crouch," he spoke his last name with contempt. He got to his feet and went to storm out of the room.

Barty immediately realized his mistake. The boy was the Dark Lord's favorite now. Who was he to doubt him? His master would be furious with him if he learned Barty had treated his precious Potter with disrespect.

"Potter, wait… please!" he called out in a panicked voice, rising from his seat hastily. The boy stopped at the door and turned to him with an angry face. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to question you, or –" he trembled at the very thought, "or the Dark Lord."

Harry stood there, feeling his anger melt away. He didn't exactly understand what was happening. One of Voldemort's most accomplished Death Eaters was staring at him fearfully. And did he actually tremble? He had no idea how to react to that.

"Um… okay," he said slowly.

Barty still looked quite frightened.

"Please, forgive me," he said shakily.

Harry felt a strange rush of power, which he knew did not stem from him, but was rather an extension of the power Voldemort held over his followers. It excited him, but at the same time it also made him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

Barty was still staring at him pleadingly, hoping to be forgiven.

"Er- sure," he stuttered.

Relief spread over the Death Eater's features visibly. He gestured at the chair again.

"Please, sit down," he almost begged.

Harry returned to his seat awkwardly. Barty dropped down into his as well and let out a deep breath.

"Alright. Let's go over the plan then," he said, all his apprehension gone now. "Oh, and please, call me Barty."

"Okay, Barty," the boy smiled timidly. "But you call me Harry."

"Deal," he agreed with a grin.