Chapter 61

Barty opened and closed his hand several times to get some circulation into his old fingers. He hated to have the body of an old man, even if it came with the benefit of a magical eye. Moody was surprizingly fit for his age, but there were still wrinkles everywhere in addition to the countless scars, and his joints hurt every day. It had all been well and good at the beginning, but after eight months of this he was growing weary, both of the body and of the role. And of course he was sick of drinking that disgusting potion all the time.

He was almost relieved that he would likely have to blow his cover at the end of the year, since Potter's chances of surviving the third task were now very high. Although his master would not be pleased.

Just as he would not be pleased when he read Barty's last report.

He took a deep breath and dipped his quill in the inkpot.

Diggory seems to have joined the general alliance, he wrote with a wince, really glad that he was informing him of this by owl instead of in person and that it would be Wormtail the one to suffer the Dark Lord's wrath.

Thinking about Wormtail's precarious situation improved Barty's mood considerably. The treacherous rat had almost ruined everything by failing to report to his master about the bloody Map. The Map that had nearly blown Barty's cover. And now the useless filth had let Barty's father escape!

He quickly searched the entire Map with his magical eye to make sure the bastard had not made an appearance. The Dark Lord was convinced that he would come here, to Dumbledore, and so now it was Barty's additional job to keep an eye out for him.

At least he would finally get to kill his father, if he showed up here. But Barty was still pissed at Wormtail and hoped the rat had been thoroughly punished and also that he would get a chance to torture the rat too at some point.

He put down the quill and rubbed his knuckles again. No doubt writing would be a lot easier if he weren't so out of practice, but Barty had not had much opportunity or reason to write in the last thirteen years. His father had not deemed necessary to make him do much more than eating and sleeping while he was under the Imperius, and here at Hogwarts Barty made Moody do the marking or reply to the Auror's correspondence, so these reports to his master were really all the writing he had done in a very long time. Combine that with old, arthritic fingers and the resulting handwriting looked embarrassingly like a child's.

He took another deep breath and picked up the quill again.

The three older champions seem to be subjecting Potter to a rigorous training, he wrote with another wince. No indication of possible betrayals so far.

These news would hardly come as a surprize, especially after Delacour, but the Dark Lord would be furious nonetheless. Barty could easily imagine him planning the deaths of the other champions as well.

Despite Diggory's decision, Hufflepuff House doesn't support the alliance and together with Slytherin House remains firmly against the general display of inter-House and inter-School unity.

That Barty had definitely not expected. Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal to a fault, and yet they had all turned their backs on Diggory and all but kicked him out of their table. Perhaps they shouldn't be so quick to dismiss the Puffs as potential Death Eaters, reflected Barty with amusement, hoping that the last line would soften the blow of his news.

He dipped the quill again and moved on to the next tricky subject he had to report on.

Snape nastier than ever. He seems to want to crucio Potter every time he sees him, and there have been several other incidents reported about Snape's mistreatment of the boy in class, although none as serious as the one involving Black.

He chuckled. Seeing the dog chewing Snape's arm had been the most satisfying thing Barty had experienced ever since the day when his master had come to free him from his father. Putting together the obvious (Wormtail had told him about Black's Animagus form) and figuring out that the dog was Sirius Black had completely made his day. Especially since Black had bitten Snape's left arm, probably sinking his filthy teeth right through the Dark Mark.

Barty hated Snape, but he despised blood traitors like Sirius Black almost as much, so it had also been satisfying to see the mutt flailing under the Cruciatus Curse and to hear the next day about the crushed bones. It had been a perfect week that one, with both Snape and Black under the same roof.

He only regretted that Black had gone away before he could be discovered and be given the Dementor's Kiss. Barty would have exposed him himself in some unsuspicious way —perhaps passing the tip to Rita Skeeter— if it had been for him, but for some reason his master had written back instructing him not to do anything. He would like to think it had been because the Dark Lord wanted to save that juicy bit about Dumbledore protecting a mass murderer to compromise the old fool at a later time, but he knew it might easily be because Black was to be saved as a reward for Snape.

A wave of fury shook Barty and the quill snapped between his fingers before he could bring himself under control. Snape was a traitor for all they knew and yet the Dark Lord was already thinking about rewarding him! It was infuriating how much his master wanted the greasy bastard by his side, and even worse was that it looked like his Lord might get what he wanted after all. Barty was having more and more difficulty every day believing that Snape was on Dumbledore's side.

He felt tempted to lie on his reports to sow suspicion about his fellow Death Eater, but he didn't dare. What if he lied and then the lies turned against him when Snape went to the Dark Lord and convinced him of his loyalty? His master would probably hand Barty over to Snape for punishment, and that was more than Barty could bear.

He took another deep breath and searched for another quill. He would just have to prove himself even more useful and reliable than Snape. Work harder to improve his Occlumency and maybe learn some Legilimency. He definitely couldn't screw this mission up.

Barty dipped the new quill in the inkpot and continued writing.

Snape seems to be ignoring most of Dumbledore's summons as well as all attempts to make him treat Potter better. Dumbledore told Moody that Snape is just in a bad mood, but he looks concerned and has at least once sneaked into Snape's office and private lab while Snape was in class.

No need to add that Snape's behaviour suggested that he was rebelling against Dumbledore and that if he had turned traitor at some point he definitely looked as if he were reconsidering his allegiance. Probably the darkening of the their Marks had had to do with it, as well as the incident with the dog. As far as Barty knew Sirius Black had been half the reason why Snape had joined the Dark Lord in the first place, so it would not be surprizing if watching Dumbledore protecting the asshole like in the old times sent him right back to his master.

As to McGonagall, Snape is just as nasty towards her as he is towards anyone else when in public, but the Map and my observations suggest they continue meeting in private regularly. Still unable to confirm what they do, but almost certain that Dumbledore doesn't know about them.

Barty chuckled again. Hate him he might, but if Snape was shagging McGonagall he couldn't help but applaud him. The woman was old, yes, but it was incredibly arousing the idea of the Head of Slytherin bringing the Head of Gryffindor to her knees. Because Snape no doubt would keep her on her knees the whole time. Make her squeal too. Rigid as McGonagall seemed Barty was willing to bet that she must bend really nice and scream like a cat.

He had tried many times to confirm what they were up to, but so far he had been unsuccessful. He knew they met privately because he had seen them disappear together late at night inside their quarters several times, and since the Heads of House's quarters were all connected via Floo it was entirely likely that they were meeting every single night without anyone the wiser. But Snape always made sure of raising notice-me-not charms whenever he was either in his or McGonagall's private rooms, and the Map didn't show the teachers' quarters, so Barty couldn't see them through the walls and he didn't know how close their dots might get.

Thinking about Snape and McGonagall reflexively directed his eyes to the Map again, even though it was too early for them to be in their private quarters engaging in Merlin knew what. Indeed, he found McGonagall in the Staff Room with Flitwick and Sinistra, and Snape... Snape was in Dumbledore's office, surprisingly. Barty would give most anything to be able to hear what those two talked about when alone and to be able to send such valuable information to his master. The most he had managed, however, had been to watch their expressions and body language through the walls during a meeting several months ago, and all he had been able to tell from that had been that Snape looked just as nasty talking in private with Dumbledore as he looked all the rest of the time.

Barty scanned the rest of the Map while he tried to decide whether he should add the current meeting to his report. He saw that there was a small cluster of dots in the Quidditch Pitch, and closer examination revealed it was Bagman and his Bulgarian and French counterparts gathered with the four champions. Today they would be informed about the third task, he remembered.

He continued searching the grounds, his heart almost stopping when he saw a lonely dot moving at the very edge of the Map.

Bartemius Crouch.

Barty was instantly on his feet and hurrying towards the trunk to fish out one of Moody's Invisibility Cloaks. Fear and excitement were making his heart beat erratically and his hands shake. He was going to kill his father! Assuming he got to him before anyone else, of course. Panic filled him at the thought of Dumbledore beating him to it, but a quick check confirmed that the old fool's dot was still in his office with Snape, unmoving.

He took one last deep breath before tucking the Map and the Cloak in a pocket and rushing away.

Barty cursed internally. Why did he have to have such bad luck? It was as if Fate was conspiring against him!

He had been delayed inside the castle by some stupid students with questions, and when he had finally managed to shrug them off the map had showed that his bloody father was moving a lot faster than he had estimated initially. He was almost at the edge of the forest by the time Barty reached him, and by then two highly inconvenient dots had popped out of nowhere and come to stand exactly between Barty and his target. He supposed it was partly his fault, since he had kept his eye fixed on the Bartemius Crouch dot and only occasionally checked that no one was coming out of the castle, not paying attention to dots coming from another direction, but still, why the stupid kids had to choose this precise moment to come all the way to this exact spot?

It was also dark under the trees, and Barty feared soon he would not be able to see the map anymore and his father might slip between his fingers. Damned Potter!

"...I tried to call it off, I swear," was saying Diggory. "I wanted a rematch, but Madame Hooch would hear none of it."

"I know, Cedric," said Potter. "You won fair and square, it's fine."

"It's not fine," argued the Hufflepuff. "Hooch should have stopped the game the moment that the Dementors appeared in the Pitch, and I... I should have tried to catch you instead of the Snitch."

Potter snorted.

"That would not have been humiliating at all," he said sarcastically. Then he sighed. "I know you didn't realize I had fallen until after you had caught the Snitch, Cedric, and I know you argued with Madame Hooch afterwards. I don't hold a grudge for that."

"The Weasleys do," said Diggory.

"Yeah, well... they can be a bit unreasonable when it comes to Quidditch," admitted Potter. "They were upset after that match."

"And you weren't?"

Barty prayed to Morgana for patience. Here he was, thirty feet from his bastard of a father, finally allowed and instructed to kill him, and he had to wait because Potter and Diggory were discussing who had been upset over a Quidditch match?

He didn't need the map to know exactly where his father was, since he could easily see him with his magical eye, but he still checked it constantly. The two "Bartemius Crouch" dots were so close! His father had stopped behind some trees and seemed temporarily frozen in some sort of catatonic state, but Barty knew he would snap out of it soon enough and continue moving, and then any broken branch might attract the champions' attention.

"It was the first match I had ever lost, my broom was a bunch of splinters, and I kept fainting whenever I had Dementors around," was saying Potter with bitterness. "Of course I was upset. But I never blamed you for anything, Cedric. You won fair and square."

"Then why don't you like me?"

"Who says I don't like you?"

Oh, for Merlin's sake! If these two nancies started snogging Barty was going to be sick.

"You seem annoyed every time you look at me, Harry," said Diggory rolling his eyes. "I mean, you have every right not to like me, considering how long it took me to stop being an idiot and join the alliance, but I have the feeling that there might be some other reason..."

Potter didn't answer for a moment, instead focusing on kicking some rocks and roots. Barty took advantage of the noise he was making to move forward a few more feet. He had already cast a Silencing Charm on his feet, but with so much litter covering the ground he was bound to make some sort of sound walking.

"I guess it annoys me that you're too bloody nice," said the kid at last. "It makes really hard to hate you, you know."

"Why would you want to hate me?" asked Diggory puzzled.

Potter sighed and rubbed his neck.

"Because of Cho."

"Oh."

Oh. That was interesting, thought Barty despite himself. Perhaps he could use the girl to make trouble between Diggory and Potter? A love potion would be ideal, but unfortunately he didn't have access to one now and it would take too long to brew. He wasn't sure the Goblet would allow it, anyway.

"It's just a stupid crush," said Potter. "I guess I'm not handling it well, but I don't want that to get on the way of our alliance. I'll just have to-"

The boy cut himself off at the sound of a branch breaking not so far away, instinctively pulling Diggory back and drawing his wand. Barty cursed again under his breath when he saw his father moving, and again when he couldn't aim Stunning Spells to either of the champions. He had to watch helplessly as his bastard of a father staggered out from behind an oak to be easily recognized by Potter and Diggory. From this distance and with them in the middle Barty couldn't aim anything at him either.

At least it looked and sounded like his father was still half-trapped by the Imperius Curse, muttering and gesticulating like a madman while he talked nonsense to a tree. After a brief hesitation Potter moved forward, and Barty took advantage of the noise to move too.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Diggory, who had followed Potter and looked alarmed.

"No idea," answered Potter. "Listen, you'd better go and get someone-"

"Dumbledore!" gasped the bastard, reaching out and seizing the boy's robes. "I need... see... Dumbledore... I've done... stupid... thing... Must... tell... Dumbledore."

"Get up, Mr. Crouch," said Potter loudly. "Get up, I'll take you to Dumbledore!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

If Dumbledore got hold of his father everything would be ruined! The old man would cancel the Imperius and extract every single bit of information the bastard had, everything about the Dark Lord and Barty and...

"Don't... leave... me!" said his father clinging to Potter and pulling him to the ground with him.

"I'll go get Dumbledore," said Diggory, slipping into his Prefect mode. "I know the password to his office, you just stay here with him, Harry, he can't harm you."

"All right, hurry up!"

Diggory sprinted away, running way too fast for Barty's taste. Dumbledore and Snape were still inside the Headmaster's office, but at that speed and knowing the password Diggory would reach them in no time.

"I... escaped... must warn... must tell... see Dumbledore... my fault... Bertha... all my fault... my son... my fault... tell Dumbledore... Harry Potter... the Dark Lord... stronger... Harry Potter..."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

There was nothing for it.

Still wrapped in the Invisibility Cloak —and disillusionated under it— but no longer caring about the noise, Barty quickly moved forward. He stepped on a dry branch on purpose, hoping the sound would draw Potter away from the madman, and saw that, indeed, the boy immediately jumped up to face the invisible threat.

"Who's there?" he exclaimed, wand raised in front of him. Barty's father was still babbling and trying to seize Potter around the knees, so the boy stepped away from him. That was the best opportunity Barty would get.

He had not wanted to do it like this. Not in a rush, definitely, nor without preceding it with a long session of torture. At the very least, he had wanted his father to be wide awake and lucid to see and understand that it was his son killing him.

He had wanted to yell the Killing Curse as loud as his voice allowed it.

As it was, he had to content himself with a wholly unsatisfying non-verbal curse and a barely aware victim.

And he couldn't even savour the moment, because only an instant after his father had dropped dead Barty was under attack. Potter was sending one Stunning Spell after another in his direction, and all Barty could do was to dodge or block, unable to shoot back. He had the advantage of invisibility, at least, and an entire dark forest behind him, so he soon managed to get away from Potter's line of fire.

Fortunately the boy didn't follow.

Heart still racing, Barty put as much distance from the scene of the crime as possible —not venturing too deep into the forest to avoid running across Centaurs or whatever— before daring lightening his wand to take a look at the Map.

His father's dot had disappeared, of course, but another dot was now standing next to Potter's.

It was Snape.