Author's Note: I hadn't expected to get this update out as soon as I did, but I've been needing some extra incentive to get working on this story on a more reliable basis. Thank you for all of the kinds souls that are so encouraging as I write. You will never understand how much a friendly word or two about an update can help with motivation. It seems like the world just went to hell with the pandemic and everyone turned into an entitled, insufferable piece of shit. Thank you for proving not all have forgotten how to be a kind human being.
Chapter Thirteen
All of the unnecessary attention Harry received when he entered the Ministry of Magic was frustrating and something he could absolutely do without. Perhaps others who found themselves in a similar situation would've enjoyed the fame that came with ridding the world of evil creatures. There were undeniably quite a few perks that came with his accomplishment. If he allowed himself to believe all of the hype about himself, maybe he would've been able to learn how to enjoy himself.
But Harry found all of the attention to be far too reminiscent of the days when he first entered Hogwarts unknowing how truly famous he was for something he couldn't remember. Too many of his fellow students wanted to be his friend when they found out who he was in some sort of hope the fame would rub off on them too. Of course it also reminded him of those awful days in fifth year when the whole country was convinced he was a nutter desperate for attention. How wrong everyone had been. He would've been far happier to have just been ignored. It was a good example not to forget about how easy it was for public opinion to change. Sure, he could be the heroic dementor destroyer one minute and a hated enemy the next with a single wrong move.
At least everyone smiled at him when he crossed the Atrium. If they hated him for whatever reason, they were polite enough to do it behind his back where he didn't have to witness. A couple friendly shouts of "Dementor Destroyer" across the marble room earned his fans a practiced smile that looked a lot more genuine than it felt on his lips. He hoped all of the attention would die down soon.
No matter what anyone else thought, he hadn't gotten rid of the dementors to be even more famous than he already was. There wasn't some sick addiction to fame and glory growing inside him. He would've done it even if no one actually cared. It felt like it was his destiny, his calling. Or so he continued to tell himself when he was putting his life in constant danger during his mission to kill them all.
Not wishing to be there any longer than was absolutely necessary, he sped up his pace to head straight for Kingsley's office. The sooner he could make his escape, the better. Returning to the building on a daily basis seemed like a daunting impossibility. Though that had always been the plan, he wasn't sure how practical it would be until the excitement died down.
The closer he got to the office, the more he pretended like he couldn't hear his name being shouted out. It would take time getting used to being around lots of people again. He still wondered if he shouldn't have run in Greenland when he had the chance. The deep biting cold of that beautiful country suited his present mind just fine.
"Oh, Mr. Potter, what a surprise!"
His abrupt arrival outside of Kingsley's office with no warning startled the Minister's assistant. It only took her a second or two to get over her initial shock to be as friendly and welcoming as she normally was to him.
Hello, Miss Farley. I trust you are doing well."
Already his face hurt from the smile he forced upon it. Not that the witch noticed. He'd learned that most people were too consumed with their own feelings and problems to notice when others weren't being entirely honest. Once the required pleasantries were exchanged he asked if he could speak to Kingsley.
"The Minister has a very busy schedule today, but I'm sure he would be glad to speak with you, Mr. Potter."
She pushed a button on a small box he assumed was an intercom.
"Minister Shacklebolt, the Dementor Destroyer…"
As she said the nickname he was beginning to hate, she offered him a large smile. He returned it even though he didn't mean it.
"…is here. He would like to speak to you."
The door to the office opened before the assistant even finished speaking. Kingsley was all smiles. Clearly pleased to see Harry, he didn't waste a moment inviting his unexpected guest inside. After leading him over to the comfortable armchairs next to the fireplace, Kingsley sat across from him anxious to know what he could do for his 'favorite Unspeakable'.
"I'm not ready to return yet to the Ministry. I hope that's not a problem."
"Of course it isn't."
"I'm not sure what I want to do next. It's maddening sitting around unsure where I should go or what I should do."
"No one would blame you for wanting to take a holiday for the rest of your life after what you accomplished."
Harry was ill at ease with the praise. It seemed excessive, like he didn't really earn it all.
"I'm sure I would get bored of a life like that. Besides, I didn't do it all by myself. I wasn't alone."
"Of course you weren't and no one is going to forget your team."
"Are you sure about that? Because it didn't take long for Ron and Hermione's contributions to be forgotten."
At the mention of Hermione's name Kingsley dropped his eyes to the floor and seemed uncomfortable. Was he looking too much into it? Most people usually felt a little embarrassed when they were reminded how easily his friends were overlooked. Kingsley cleared his throat, but continued to be unable to look Harry in the eye.
"There's something you need to know, Harry. Something happened when you destroyed the last of the dementors."
The first observation Hermione had when she saw her old friend standing outside her front door was he was oddly calm. More so than she remembered him being. Something about him had changed. She wondered if there was more about her friend, possibly former friend, that she didn't realize.
A noise behind her, maybe the simple sound of a footstep, reminded her that Barty was still in the room. It was too late to hide her houseguest's presence from her visitor. Harry had already seen him. It surprised her that he wasn't angry, just that strange calm and even a little resigned. Maybe he just wasn't aware of Barty's true identity. He'd only met him in his non-polyjuiced form once for a short time. How would he react to knowing Lord Voldemort's most loyal follower and the reason he was able to regain his body was casually in her house about to make some tea? They didn't have the best history.
"So it's true. Barty Crouch really is back."
Or maybe she wouldn't have to explain after all. Barty's return was still a closely guarded secret but it was bound to get out sooner or later. Secrets never stayed buried for long. Nervous to be there with Harry again, Barty cleared his throat.
"I'll just go brew that tea."
He made a quick escape out of the tense room that Hermione wished she could do as well. Left alone with Harry, especially not fully understanding the status of their friendship following their terrible argument, was difficult. She held the door open and stepped back.
"Please come inside, Harry. It's freezing out there."
With more of that eerie calm she wasn't sure she could get used to, Harry took a seat in a chair by the fireplace to warm up. Was he under the influence of a powerful Imperius Curse or had he accidentally drunk too much of a calming potion? Hermione sat across from him hoping to have answers to her questions soon. Neither of them rushed to speak. Where would they even begin?
A soft meow coming out of the basket Barty placed near the fire broke the silence. Confused by what he was hearing, Harry leaned forward to get a better look. He actually smiled when he saw the two kittens inside. It was just enough to give Hermione the courage to speak.
"Their mother was killed during the storm this past weekend. Barty has been caring for them."
Harry seemed surprised. Not that she could blame him. If she hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes, she wasn't sure she would believe a Death Eater was capable of such tender kindness. It did seem out of character for a man like him, but again, they hardly knew anything about him beyond his homicidal past. Even killers and madmen had their soft spots she supposed.
"How did you know about..?"
Unable to even say Barty's name out loud, she just gestured toward the kitchen door he'd disappeared behind. It was all so very awkward. She continued to be surprised that Harry was so calm considering his own past with Barty. No one, least of all Hermione, could blame him for getting angry. None of them should forget the past after all. To forget history doomed them all to repeat it. She could understand Kingsley's wrath and hatred for the man even if she didn't appreciate his methods for expressing that anger.
"Kingsley told me this morning when I stopped by his office."
Knowing Harry had been aware of Barty's return for most of the day was another surprise. She would've assumed he would come running over to see for himself the first chance he got.
"This morning? And you waited until now to…"
Before she could finish her thought out loud, she cut herself off. What was the point in telling him she didn't believe he was capable of remaining calm and thinking rationally in a difficult moment? He knew very well what she'd always thought about his impulsive nature. Hermione hated that neither of them felt comfortable enough to talk freely like they used to. Would they ever be able to recover their friendship or was it lost forever? Clearly not offended, Harry smiled, almost chuckled too.
"I might always be a reckless Gryffindor, but I'm not so quick to run straight into danger without preparing myself first. I never would've killed my first dementor if I was."
Perhaps for the first time in a very long time, Hermione took a real look at Harry. She could see how he'd changed even in just the months since he left to go on his hunt. There was a weariness, an exhaustion that he thought he might've been doing a good job of hiding, but she could see it. She'd known him too long and too well to miss it. He might look healthy and be in perhaps the best physical shape of his life. That didn't mean he didn't look exhausted and far older than he should.
What had he gone through on his mission? She was both anxious and terrified to know. He wasn't the same wizard he was when he left. The man seated across from her looked like her best friend but he was a complete stranger. A deep sadness settled over her at the thought. Was she a stranger to him too? Growing up and moving on wasn't easy for anyone even if they hadn't been through what they'd both experienced.
"Kingsley and I had a long talk. He told me that Crouch's soul returned to his body when the last dementor was destroyed. Said it was a major shock when he woke up."
"It was. No one knew that was even possible."
Harry cleared his throat again. The familiar sound almost made her laugh. Perhaps he wasn't a complete stranger after all. One look at him and she could tell without question that he didn't want to say what he was going to say next. She knew that look.
"Kingsley seems to feel a little guilty about insisting Crouch move into your house."
Upon hearing that, Hermione fought to keep from rolling her eyes. She wasn't sure she could believe that entirely. Kingsley probably did feel some guilt about his recent actions because beneath all of his anger he was still a good man even if he couldn't always remain calm and kind under the influence of too much alcohol. She knew if he felt guilty about Crouch being in her house it was only because he had the opportunity to put him in Azkaban despite her protests and didn't.
"I didn't care for the arrangement myself at first, and honestly I wish he could be safely housed elsewhere, but I appear to be the only one keeping him out of Azkaban at the moment so I don't see how I have much choice."
"And you don't believe he belongs in Azkaban? After everything he did? Everyone else does."
Naturally it was only going to be a matter of time before the argument she expected began. She was prepared to fight, to not back down, and give all of her reasons for not giving up on the notorious Death Eater despite his dark past. Harry, too, was passionate if also still oddly calm. She couldn't get over how changed he was. Past-Harry would've cursed first and then maybe asked questions if he felt like it. Despite being thrown off-guard by his seemingly brand new personality, she wasn't going to go quietly.
"He was Kissed, Harry. There's no more barbaric punishment out there."
His jaw clenched. Anger flashed through his emerald green eyes.
"I know. I'm well aware."
"Then you should understand. He was sentenced to the Kiss, a punishment that never should've existed in the first place. For twelve years he was trapped inside a hell we cannot begin to imagine. He served his time, completed his sentence. It's not his fault that he didn't remain soulless and trapped until his physical body gave out. He shouldn't be forced to live the rest of his life in Azkaban simply because he's unliked and made horrible decisions when he was younger. Not when he's already been punished in a manner that never should've existed. We should be better than our criminals, not competing with them to see who could be the most cruel."
As much as she tried to remain calm, it was her turn to be oddly passionate. Every tiny part of the whole ordeal Barty had been through thanks to Cornelius Fudge's selfish desire to hide his own ineptitude just set her off. It wasn't unusual for her to get worked up over an injustice or a cause she cared about, but she never expected to feel that way about Barty, especially not after such a short time in her life. The man got on her nerves and she couldn't deny she wouldn't mind seeing him leave her house to find a place of his own. She didn't feel it was fair to throw him away like he was rubbish.
The longer she spoke, the more pronounced Harry's smirk grew. He looked so much like his younger self for a moment she was startled. When she could just stare at him unsure what to say, he dared to actually smile.
"Has 'spew' been resurrected with a new creature to save?"
For a moment or two she didn't realize he was teasing her for her rant. Once she did and he began to laugh, Hermione rolled her eyes. The air felt lighter between them, like a barrier was steadily being knocked down. It was encouraging that he would tease her even if it was also a little frustrating. She thought it was a good sign that he could find even a little bit of humor in something so serious.
"Do you think I'm wrong? Do you agree with Kingsley and likely everyone else in the world that he should be tossed in a damp cell in Azkaban and forgotten?"
When Harry didn't immediately answer her question, she felt certain she wouldn't like his answer. Not that she was all that surprised. She highly doubted he agreed with her, not after all that Barty had done to him personally in fourth year. Some acts would be easier to forgive than others. Some might not even be possible to forgive. She didn't know why she hoped so strongly she was wrong and Harry agreed with her feelings. Maybe she was feeling nostalgic and hoped that would make her feel close to him again.
"I actually do agree with you, Hermione. Maybe I wouldn't have before I left, but…"
"You've changed."
It was obvious. Already she'd noticed the difference in him, but saying it out loud made it seem more real somehow.
"Yes, I have. I can't imagine how terrifying it was to be Kissed. It almost happened to me and that was enough to make it my life's purpose to get those foul creatures out of existence. Despite what I've been accused of by some of my more vocal critics, I didn't destroy them for the fame and accolades. That wouldn't have been enough incentive to do what I did."
"No, I imagine not."
"A part of me hoped that by destroying them all, maybe I wouldn't have to see them again in my nightmares. Maybe I'd actually get a decent night's sleep for once."
Never before had Harry been so open with her about his true motivations for undertaking such a severe and dangerous mission. As much as she didn't want to admit so out loud, there absolutely was a time when Hermione believed he was only going after the dementors for some sort of personal glory. He could exhibit all of the worst Gryffindor traits. She supposed she had some of those same tendencies, but it was always easier to point it out in someone else. Hearing some of his reasons, knowing that there was some part of him that hadn't fully recovered from the trauma of that night in third year down by the lake threatened to break her heart. Had she been so self-absorbed in her own problems and petty jealousies that she never considered how hurt her friend was? He often seemed so well put together after the war ended. It was easy to envious that his life was progressing better than hers.
Assumptions were dangerous. She had been a terrible friend. A little bit of jealousy was normal in any relationship, but she'd taken it too far. In her disappointment that she hadn't flown through the ranks of the Ministry in a meteoric rise as she expected to do once she left Hogwarts, she nearly ruined everything she held dear.
Harry gave her a sad smile. Could he see the distressed workings of her inner mind? He'd grown up a great deal from the days he'd been frustratingly unobservant.
"Some days Voldemort and all of that feels like another lifetime ago or that it happened to someone else. Maybe that's why I can see a different side. I've fought other battles since that day in the Great Hall. Kingsley hasn't. Most people haven't."
"It does seem to have given you a different perspective."
"I think it has. Crouch endured his sentence, even with it being designed to break him. I agree. As long as he stays out of trouble and tries to be a better person than he used to be, I don't see any reason why he shouldn't stay out of Azkaban."
Knowing that at least one other person was on her side who wasn't an actual murderer meant a lot to Hermione. Harry had influence she could only dream of. People actually listened to him when he spoke and cared about what he had to say. It was another reason it was hard not to be envious. For most of her life she felt like she had to wear people down with her perseverance just to get them to hear her. Even then she knew it was usually meant to pacify her enough to get her to move on. Just like Neville dropping his sickles in her can in fourth year, they only wanted her to leave them alone.
"Thank you, Harry, I'm… well, to be perfectly honest, I'm surprised by this change in you. I was nervous you were going to be right there with Kingsley demanding he be returned to Azkaban."
Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"Kingsley isn't right about everything."
She dropped her eyes from his with a heavy sigh she failed to suppress.
"No, he's not."
At the sound of Harry clearing his throat again, she looked up to catch him running his hand through his hair. It was so much like he used to be she nearly smiled. Was he just as nervous as she was?
"I've had a lot of time to think and I think… you were right what you said that night we fought."
Another heavy sigh came out of her that she couldn't stop. Some days she wished she'd kept her mouth shut. Rarely did someone regret something they didn't say more than something they did. What was said in the heat of the moment when her own pride was injured kept coming back to haunt her and make her further regret her past choices."
"Harry, I…"
"Don't apologize again. You were right and I was angry with you for being right."
"I was just worried about you. Absolutely terrified that something awful was going to happen to you."
The sound of the back door in the kitchen opening and closing moments later sounded extra loud in the middle of their tense and emotionally fraught conversation. She'd almost forgotten Barty was still there in the house until he made his escape outside. Her eyes flicked over to the hooks next to the door where they kept their cloaks. His was still there. Why did he keep going out in the cold without his cloak? Did he want to get sick? Maybe he saw that as an easy escape from the hell he was living.
Too late she realized she had stopped listening to Harry to chase her own line of thinking. It embarrassed her to catch him staring. Even more so when she saw him smile. He knew her mind wandered.
"I should go. I didn't mean to stay so long."
Hermione started to argue and invite him to stay even longer when he stood up, but she stopped herself. It might not be polite to admit so, but she would actually prefer if he left. Too much too soon was just as bad as nothing at all. If he stayed too long she might say something she'd regret and ruin their progress.
"Thank you for coming. You are always welcome."
At the front door Harry brushed his lips gently against her cheek and made his exit. She heard his loud crack of Apparition seconds after the door shut. Waiting only about another minute, she made the decision to put her cloak back on and grab Barty's. It was madness to wander around without a cloak in that weather.
Finding him was easy. The cliffs drew him too with their odd, mystical pull. From a distance she slowed her steps to watch him without his knowledge. She couldn't forget what Blaise said about Barty likely worrying she was going to jump. He didn't seem in immediate danger of hurling himself off the cliff, but she couldn't ignore he looked intense. Changing her mind about walking slowly, she thought it best to approach him quickly.
When she was only steps away, he looked up to meet her eyes. Some of the intensity dissipated. She tossed him his cloak which he easily caught in one hand.
"It's too cold to wander around outside without it."
There was a half-smile on his face as he put it on.
"Find any law today that'll put me back in Azkaban?"
"Not today. Maybe tomorrow."
His soft chuckles soon morphed his face into a more serious expression.
"I wasn't trying to listen to what you and Mr. Potter were saying, but…"
"It's a small house."
She wasn't angry. Of course she expected he would be listening in. It was human nature. He left when they changed the conversation away from him. Not everyone would've done the same.
"Thank you for what you said to him. I know my presence here has been an inconvenience in your life you wouldn't have wished for and I appreciate what you have done for me."
"I've only done what was right. And thankfully, you haven't been as obnoxious as you were that first day."
He chuckled, drawing a genuine smile out of her in the process.
"You've been a little more covered up since that day. Nothing to make obnoxious comments about."
She rolled her eyes but still laughed.
"Except for that night I woke you up out of that nightmare."
Barty's cheeks immediately flushed red at the reminder. Though it was tempting to laugh again and tease him for his involuntary response, she chose to take pity on him instead.
"We should go back inside. I think the kittens were getting restless."
He appreciated the change in topic. The rest of the way back to the promised warmth of the house he gave Hermione an update on how his newest charges were doing.
"The black one is a little boy and I think you'll like him the best. He's very sweet and calm. Not like his sister, the grey one. She's going to be a terror when she grows larger."
It was said with a smile on his face, leaving no doubt in her mind that he liked the grey kitten the best. They spent the evening entirely focused on feeding and playing with the kittens as best they could in their small state. Very little time was required to discover they were both right about which kitten was the other's favorite.
