"Come."
Her hands held Barty's tightly, not giving any chances for the crowd to separate them. King Cross station was packed, and that was putting it mildly.
She caught Barty's pout in a brief glance. Her brother had been sulking since they left the manor and as he watched other children being sent away by their parents, his sulking had only gotten worse. She waved their joined hand in reassurance.
Father had forbidden Mother to go see them board the Hogwarts express, or even to go out to any public places. It was undoubtedly due to Father's bold moves in the ministry, and though bold it might be, Father was clearly frightened by the threat of a target on his back.
Physical attack was the least of Father's concern. It was their free use of the imperious curse that impose a great threat for Mother. She didn't have the talent for occlumency.
"Where do you want to sit?" Her brother asked, climbing on to the train first. He offered his hand and she gladly took it as she entered the train. The train was not as busy as the peron - she could see a couple of empty compartments already from where she stood. It would be easy to just sit in one of them.
Unfortunately, she already had prior engagement. Her grateful smile turned a bit guilty, "I will find you if i can't find Orpington."
There was a glimpse of a scowl before they started walking. "And if you can't find me?"
"Someone else has to suffer my presence, then," she said lightly.
"Barty!"
Both of them caught the sight of Evan's pale haired head simultaneously, peeking from a compartment not far in front of them, a grin splitting his face. Without his body in sight, it looked terribly off puttting.
"Now look at that," mused Barty, already walking towards his friend. "We just saved some poor unsuspecting students from your presence."
She rolled her eyes as she followed him.
.
The first thing she did after the welcoming feast was to visit the hospital wing with a new box of Bulgarian chocolates, knowing that a certain someone would soon need the sweet treat after a particularly harsh night under the full moon. Madam Pomfrey did not look surprised by her visit, sitting at the corner table with a cup of tea in her hand and an arched eyebrow at her direction.
"Giving out your chocolate so early into the year, Miss Crouch? Are you sure you won't need them for yourself?"
Madeline put the basket on the table and gave the mediwitch a respectful bow, hiding a fond smile. "Please take care of us this year, madam."
"That goes without saying, but your gesture is very much appreciated."
She didn't stay long there in the hospital wing. A couple conversations about their summer and the upcoming quidditch season – which undoubtedly would be fueled by the recent world cup, then she was off again to visit another place.
Cautious of being followed, she took the roundabout way to reach her destination. First was to go to the grand stairs, and instead of taking the stairs to another floor, she went to a painting of Basil Fronsac, murmuring 'studious success' for the passage to reveal itself. Only after she passed by the library and made a few turns that she arrived at a mirror that hid another passage.
The walk after that was long, but it did not feel like it was on four paws. Cat-Madeline bounced with the amount of energy she didn't know she had, eyes roaming curiously at the not-so-dark tunnel. It was fascinating to see how much bugs escaped human sight.
Hogsmeade was brimming with life when she arrived there, with people coming and going from the many bars and stores on its street. Cat-Madeline chose to stay hidden among the shadows until she reached the less crowded part of the village. There, right at the edge of the outer village was a house not yet equipped with lights. As if sensing her attention, a chilling wind carried the most painful howl erupted from the dark, foreboding house, a sound that would rattle the nerves of even the bravest man.
Her final destination of the night.
She approached the house carefully. While a werewolf could not infect an animagus, it still would, and could, attack other animals if it felt provoked. Entering its territory was definitely a provocation. Her fur started to rise when she had finally entered it, and she followed her senses to guide her to the reason of this excursion.
The smell of blood thickened the air.
But of course, the only blood there came from the gruesome figure of a small werewolf with scars all over his body in one of the house's room. He whined pitifully against the chains around his ankles that connected him to the fireplace, and growled when the frustration again claimed him. And then he let out another howl, followed by vicious scratches on the furniture around him.
Cat-Madeline watched the scene from a hole in the wall, letting out a pitiful mewl of her own.
Behind the safety of a wall, she assumed her true form. Loud ragged breath from the room next to her closely followed her action and she quickly charmed herself to be scentless. Only then that she started to conjure flocks of birds in all sort of colors, sending them to the other room.
She had to stifle her laugh when the wolf started to forget about his chained ankle as he chased the birds across the room, leading him to stumble a few times. After the birds were all hit and gone - which was probably a couple of hours after she conjured them, rather than replenishing the flock, she instead started to conjure pixies made from light that left a glittering trail of dust lights each time they flew. The wolf was so awed by their glow that he forgot to chase them for a second.
Madeline rested her head against the wall as she watched the wolf. It was only the first night of her third year, but watching Remus Lupin in his wolf form left her feeling melancholic and tired despite her joy in seeing the wolf so happy.
She still had many things to do.
.
The first week passed by duly, except of course, if you count the time where she surprised her housemates' with her decision. It was Thursday at lunch when they had just realized she took neither arithmancy and ancient runes class, like any other swot did.
"How come you don't take ancient runes class or arithmancy?"
Lestrange looked at her with a puzzled expression. He had been waiting to discuss runes with the bright witch, and was a pinch disappointed when she didn't come to the class. "Regulus told me you take Care of Magical Creatures yesterday, but no one saw you in the Divination class on Tuesday. You must have one spot left for the elective."
She lifted an eyebrow at him. "I don't."
The boy frowned for a second and paused as he connected the dots. Surprise marred his face, "You're taking muggle studies?"
"I am," she nodded confidently, uncaring of the murmurs she started. By her side, Orpington fidgeted in her seat, suddenly feeling self-aware. She too decided to take muggle studies after Madeline informed of her decision that summer.
"Whatever for?" Inquired Lestrange yet again, looking more puzzled than ever. She tilted her head at him.
"Have you never felt any curiosity about them?"
"I prefer to not think of them at all," he replied dismissively.
She continued to cut her pie. "Well, if the curiosity ever comes to you, you know where to sate it. I have read a couple books on muggles and I think we can learn some fascinating things from them."
Across from her, Regulus Black stared at her unblinking.
It was an open invitation, one that she hoped the boy will take one day. It was wrong of them to think that they have known anything worth knowing about the muggles and therefore dismiss them. This ignorance was one of the reasons of this ridiculous division.
Exhibit A.
A sound of someone clearing their throat cut the silence after her statement. Two seats from her was Parkinson, who had put on a mask of curiosity. "Fascinating things, you say? Like how dirty they are without the aid of a simple cleaning spell, perhaps?"
Madeline's smile didn't falter. "Oh, I wouldn't presume to know the hygiene of those who doesn't have the ability to cast a simple cleaning spell," she retorted with the grace taught by her mother.
"There is no harm in learning more about the muggles," Orpington awkwardly added, her eyes warily met the glare Parkinson group sent at her. "My ancestor, that was the Minister For Magic Evangeline Orpington, was inspired by a muggle invention and created the Hogwarts express that we still enjoy to this day."
It was more of buying one of their train than an inspiration, Madeline mused at the privacy of her mind. But perhaps the concept of experiential travel was what she meant by the inspiration. Magical means of travel such as apparition, the floo, and portkey, after all, left much to be desired. Were they efficient? Undoubtedly. Were they enjoyable? Hell no.
"Well - I had thought we could exchange our notes in runes," Rabastan confessed, reverting back their topic to a safer zone. Madeline smiled amused at this. "It's most unfortunate for me. I sure hope you find muggle studies unsatisfactory enough to change your course."
She huffed. "Why do I feel you assume I'm not learning runes on my own?"
"Do you?"
"She does," answered Regulus in her stead, cutting her own reply. She glanced questioningly at the boy. That was only the second time he had partake in a conversation that included her for the whole week, not including the greeting she initiated on the train.
He didn't even notice her glance.
Regulus continued stoically, "Rab, why don't you ask your brother for notes? He's an accomplished wizard who is on his way to be a runic master, is he not?"
"Oh, that's right," Pyrites piped in. "No wonder you already got the basic. The talent is already in the blood, huh?"
Just like that, the conversation picked up there at the Slytherin table. Madeline exchanged a look with Orpington before mentally shrugging.
They finished their meal in silence.
.
As per her routine, Madeline left her dorm for a morning run early on the weekend. The only difference now was the company.
"You've been doing exercises in the castle?" Barty frowned. "I thought you said the walk around the castles each time we have to go to class was enough exercise."
She conciously ignored Barty's accusing gaze. "I never said that."
"Uh uh. You clearly said it one time."
They were taking the grand stairs to the seventh floor, though Barty had no clue of where his sister was taking him. He still glanced at the floor landing hopefully every time they reached another floor.
"You asked if I was still doing exercises and I asked you in return if walking between classes wasn't already counted as an exercise."
"So you evaded my question, misled me with your words' implication, and omitted the truth," Barty concluded with a bitter tone. "I kinda felt hurt, Maddy. I thought you'll always push me to do exercise with you."
Because it used to be like that. Madeline would always drag him to her silly exercises and Barty would whine and complain but still did all the exercises with her.
Madeline winced. "I'm sorry."
Barty answered her apology with a silence that loudly spoke of his displeasure. Each second of it felt like another ton of guilt placed on her chest and it was a relief when they finally reached the seventh floor.
She faced her pouting brother, "Look, Barty - "
He didn't look at her.
She sandwiched his cheeks and made sure that he was looking at her. "I'm really, really, sorry for not telling you about the exercise I've been doing. It's just… the place I use for the exercise is my secret place, the place I use for studying, resting, hiding."
Barty perked up at the last word, encouraging her to continue. "Last year, you were still exploring the castle, so there was a possibility for you to discover my hiding place on your own. Also, I was still observing whether you could hide a secret as exciting as a secret room hidden in the depth of a magical castle. You proved that you could do it, as I haven't seen you invited your friends to the kitchen. And now - Now I'm going to show you my secret place."
Barty stared at her quietly, as if measuring her reasons. Thankfully, it didn't take him long to forgive her and started to buzz with excitement.
"So? Why are we standing here like an idiot? Show me the secret room!"
She chuckled, "Can you guess the magic word?"
He blinked, before tilting his head curiously. "Revelio?"
"Nope."
He stared at her in a deadpan. "Please don't tell me it's another random entrance code. I feel like I've lost all my time playing guessing game with all the paintings last year – But magic word, you say? At least it wouldn't be as random as tickling pears – Or, or rubbing a hump of an old witch statue!" He scrunched his nose at the last thought as she giggled, guiding her brother to the dancing troll painting.
"First and last clue: You mentioned the magic word already."
Barty glanced at her with a frown, and then at the painting, then back to her. He must have caught the smirk she was trying to hide because he huffed and folded his arms. "Is it please? Please?"
Madeline pretended to bow deeply at her brother, "Your wish is my command, my Lord." With one last playful smirk, she ignored her brother's exasperated sigh and paced three times in front of the painting until a grand door revealed itself on the wall across it. She grinned at the sight of it.
"That door was definitely not there before," Barty commented in awe.
The room, of course, did not fail to deliver. Madeline asked for the garden back in their manor and that was exactly what it provided. Barty's jaw was left hanging at the sheer magnificence. The ceiling looked almost gone replaced by a bright blue sky and butterflies were playing around the flowers. Mother's flowers.
It felt almost like home.
"What is this place?"
She returned her eyes at Barty and explained enthusiastically, "Hogwarts elves call this room The Come-and-Go room, though I think The Room of Requirement suits it better. You see, to use this room, you have to pace three times in front of the wall and just think clearly of anything you wish it to be. The room could provide you with anything – except for food, of course. You've read the Gamp's law, I'm sure."
Barty nodded, though still dumbfounded. "The enchantment of this place…"
She sighed dreamily. "Yeah… I'm still trying to crack upon its secrets." She shook her head. "But we can continue to admire this room later. First, our morning run."
Barty's head snapped at her. "Are you serious, Mad? You showed me the most wonderful room in the whole castle and you expect me to – to exercise?"
Her wand was working fast, taking off both of their clothes, making Barty yelped a cute 'eep!' sound - and then charming the running clothes in her bag to put themselves on them. Everything was done under ten seconds, though Barty gave her a stink eye at the end of it.
They ran until Barty begged it to be over.
.
Madeline smiled warmly at the jovial professor as he made some jokes, laughing only with the crinkle around her eyes. Really, she should've expected this to happen sooner or later. It had been over five minutes since the class ended and the professor asked her to stay for a 'small chat'. At first, they were only discussing her study load - the professor had offered her the chance to take all of the courses numerous times during the summer break, a chance Hermione Granger would definitely take. But she was not Hermione Granger, and time was the only commodity she could not afford to waste. It didn't seem to deter Professor Slughorn as he was, once again, asking, "are you sure I can't persuade you to take one more class? The arithmancy class, perhaps? You're a brilliant girl, Madeline. I'm sure you could manage even twelve courses if you put your mind into it!"
She could, but why should she when she could just apply to take their OWLs with only but a small exra fee?
"How is your father faring?" Professor Slughorn finally asked at one point, "I have just read another article about him – still as busy as ever, is he? But of course, it comes with the duties of a man of his station!"
"He's working hard in this trying time," She replied demurely.
"Of course, of course! He has our sincerest gratitude," the professor said, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "Ah, I almost forgot!"
The man reached for one of the drawers and pulled out a dark emerald envelope, sealed with an even darker green wax. The thin envelope landed on her hands. "Here it is! I'm sure you've heard of one of these from the older students. I have gathered a group of remarkable students to dine together every fortnight, and it would delight us tremendously if you would join our little group."
She inspected the envelope with not a little curiosity. Oh, she had heard of this little group, alright. Fifth year Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt, and seventh year Damocles Belby would be among them. Just breathing the same air with these people could bring about success. Of course there would also be the likes of Mcnair and Yaxley. But the benefits definitely outweigh their general unpleasantness. "I'm sure the discussion will be interesting," She met the professor's hopeful eyes and beamed. "It will be my pleasure, sir."
When she exited the class carrying the green envelope in her hand, she didn't expect a certain someone waiting for her just outside of the door, holding a similar envelope.
"Did he invite you as well?" Regulus Black asked as he stopped leaning by the wall at the sight of her, the shadows of the dungeon leaving his figure as he stepped into the dim candle light. He approached her stoically, as if he had every right to do so and hadn't just ignored her for the most part of the week.
She honestly can't with this boy. "Evidently."
"May I escort you to these dinners?"
The sheer audacity. She stared at him with her most deadpanned expression, "That would only be acceptable if one of us would promise to be a pleasant company and not just rudely ignoring the other."
He nodded decidedly. "The two of us should make that promise, I agree."
Madeline stared at him, dumbfounded. He was truly unbelievable.
With a sigh, she turned and resumed her walk, fully intending to make a certain distance with the infuriating boy.
But of course it wasn't that easy.
"Where do you want to go?"
A glance on her right told her that, yes, Regulus Black was indeed following her and had caught up with her pace. She held back the urge to sigh again. "The library."
When they arrived at the grand stairs, she didn't care that she started to walk towards the secret passage rather than climbing up to the fourth floor. She just wanted to get rid of this boy faster, because apparently, he had decided to go to the library as well.
Madeline noted with a frown how he still appeared to be indifferent when the secret passage revealed itself. Did he know of this passage, already?
"Were my notes helpful?"
She glanced again at his direction and that turned out to be a mistake. The shadows in the passage really did wonder to his facial features - and she most definitely had not just thinking about a boy's face. Nope. "Er, yes. They certainly are. Thank you once again, Regulus. I think I will have finished the ritual this year."
He let out a hum. "I didn't take you as a ritualist."
"It's the most effective and suitable method for the desirable outcome."
"I'm happy to be of help."
The conversation stopped there and she almost paused in her steps. She couldn't help but took another glance at the boy.
That's it? Is he somehow possessed?
The Regulus Black she knew would definitely say something like 'and what desirable outcome are you seeking?' because he was nosy like that, at least if it was related to academic and the pursuit of magic. She knew she was being unnecesarily cryptic with her letters, but the boy really hadn't tried to pry at all.
She cleared her throat. "I owe you another favor it seems. I owe you a lot of favors, now that I think about it. You haven't named the price of your favors."
A pause, and then, "I'm saving them for future needs," the boy said blandly.
She felt like there was supposed to be a faint smug smirk there.
Madeline shook her head. Her thoughts were going everywhere and nowhere. Maybe she didn't know Black that well. "Wise. Unlike one of our mutual friends.
"Evan is a lot more calculating than you realize."
Of course he immediately knew who she referred to. "I'm sure that could be the case," she said lightly, "though I don't how much calculating he could be if he recklessly owe older students some favors just because he wanted to, I don't know, accidently injured someone who spoke ill of him."
She met his brief glance with an unimpressed look, telling him that yes, she knew about the second year Gryffindor who visited Madam Pomfrey recently. She also knew that Evan mocked him and his broom first – which led to the boy mocking Evan's obviously new broom because he probably broke yet again another broom with his poor flying skill – which was not true, Evan was a talented flyer even though he was admittedly a tad too reckless and impulsive when he was in the air. The broom was therefore broken because of his recklessness and not because of the lack of skill.
The accusation was evidently too insulting for a 12 years old boy, and of course Evan had to take it too far, sending Macnair at the poor boy. She had heard all the gruesome bit from Celinna Macdougall, and she knew that throwing Macnair at the boy's direction was Regulus and Rabastan's idea.
"It was a harmless prank," Regulus said, remorse absent in his voice. "My brother had done much worse."
That was probably true, Madeline concurred. But if everyone held this teenage Sirius Black as their standard for morality, humanity would only go downhill. She said as much to the boy, receiving neither his usual snarky remark or witty addition to her statement.
It was as if his mind was elsewhere.
.
At some point in her summer break, Madeline finally figure out what sacrificial magic precisely Hogwarts had done to her. She had all the sacrifices figured out – 7 souls. Her own soul, and one other soul of the innocent (Madeline Couch's). Five fractured souls – probably taken from the murderers that were roaming around Hogwarts during the ritual.
Then, the blood of a protector – her own or Ron's, probably. The bones of pure will dancing against fate – Harry's. It must be Harry's. Who else would it be? The flesh of the wronged - Every students in Hogwarts at that time fit that criteria. She really couldn't have guessed.
And lastly, two fates that flirted with death. Hers and Madeline Crouch's.
Unfortunately, she didn't figure out all aspect of the ritual. The ritual, originated from a soul merging ritual, couldn't have sent her soul to the past. She also had read from some sources that the souls merged was supposed to be entertwined by fate first before the ritual. Hermione Granger had never met Madeline Crouch.
And lastly, the most disturbing piece information of all, it couldn't have been done with a soul that had passed the veil of death.
(Madeline Crouch was dead. She was wearing a corpse. Is she even alive-)
Of course because these mysteries were not enough, she had to face another peculiarity – A pull. A pull towards the root of all problems in her life.
She really didn't want to speak with Hogwarts again – To find out her true self would cease to exist. To find out her soul was sacrificed against her will- it was all too much. But this matter turned out to be a lot more important than just figuring out what had been to her. It could affect the mission.
So one night, after a study session with Barty, Madeline Crouch stayed in the room of requirement while her brother returned to the dorm.
"You have some explaining to do," she asked softly at the room, closing her eyes as she did so.
"Do we?"
The room that welcomed her sight back was white and vast – Hollow; A glitch in space. It was a wonder how sound could travel in it, with their voice resonating and distorted across the air, sounding both unfeeling and inhuman.
A room that could drive a man to insanity.
"Why did you bind me with Voldemort?" She demanded at Hogwarts, evening her heartbeat. The room answered easily.
"We had predicted that to be a possibility, but it was not in our intention to make it so."
"A side effect of the ritual?" She murmured to herself.
Hogwarts, being able to read her mind, must be sensing her thinking to the right direction. It chose to wait for her to work out the answer on her own.
She didn't disappoint.
"No," Madeline shook her head. "You used him as an anchor."
The space rippled. Approval.
"Correct. Particularly, we used the vile piece of soul in Helga's cup as an anchor. Without time magic, the ritual needs an anchor to displace you in time. Coincidently, Hermione Granger destroyed one of the horcruxes. Helga's cup. Your fate was sufficiently entertwined with it, making it the right anchor magic needed to finish the ritual."
"So the cup pulled me here," she concluded with a frown. It answered some of her questions, but it still left many mysteries unsolved.
"It pulled Hermione Granger to its creation in 1963," Hogwarts corrected her. "The year the original Madeline Crouch was supposed to die."
Her frown only deepened. How did it work, exactly? Just because Madeline Crouch died in the same year, she could take over her life just like that? And how did she was 'pulled', exactly? She returned her focus to the hollow space again, "Was it.. my soul, that was pulled to it?"
"Not your soul. It was Hermione Granger's soul."
She scowled. "It's the same thing."
"It is not," Hogwarts insisted infuriatingly. "You are the new Madeline Crouch, born of a soul merging ritual."
She took a step forward, an unconscious gesture to challenge the empty room, "But I'm still half Hermione Granger, am I not? You used a soul merging ritual."
"Despite the name, the nature of a soul merging ritual, one of the darkest rituals of all times, is not to merge numerous soul into one. It is to forge one soul from the remains of many."
"Remains," she croaked out. For her soul to be referred as remains… She glared at the hollow space. "Because you butchered my soul, didn't you?"
Her accusation was met by silence. There was a sense of something in the air. Wrong. The room was telling her she was wrong. Hogwarts didn't butcher her soul. One could not butcher another's soul.
That's right- it was the basic knowledge of soul magic. To harm a soul – causing a fracture, a cut, a split – one only needed to kill another soul. The less remorse they felt, the better.
Hogwarts didn't butcher her soul.
She did.
Madeline blinked as she recalled her memories. Back then at the final battle, Harry sticks with the disarming spell and the stunning spell, while she –
She didn't even think about those death eaters after casting those spells. She didm't think much of them even now. It was just the heat of the battle and they needed to survive. Harry needed to survive.
(7 souls sacrificed.
1 innocent soul of madeline Crouch.
6 fractured souls, consisted of her own, and her victim's fractured souls.)
A tired chuckle escaped her. "Magic of fate. My own actions allowed this to happen."
The ritual made some sense now. It was no wonder it could manage a feat wizards had never dreamed of – it was beyond vile. It required murderers after murderers. It required a great unjustice for the sacrifices, a soul tortured by fate –
She shook her head. Focus. She needed to focus. The only question unanswered was how Madeline Crouch played a part in this twisted scenario. Hogwarts once said they decided to put her in a child's body, so did that mean they could have chosen whoever there was in 1963, but they chose this child?
But how? And how could Hogwarts pulled her from beyond the veil? Madeline Crouch was supposed to be dead.
Focus.
"You can ask us," offered Hogwarts.
The blandness in its voice felt like it was mocking her. She hated it. "How."
"There are magics that could pull the soul from beyond the veil. You've met one of them."
"The resurrection stone," her answer came within a beat, voice toneless. The room rippled.
"It is not impossible to pull a soul from their resting place. Vile, torturous, yes. But not impossible."
Somehow, that news did not surprise her much. She felt.. numb, actually. It had been a long day. "So you used the cup as an anchor to pull me here – to pull Hermione Granger here. If this bond between me and voldemort is created, then it must be because a sliver of my soul - oh, sorry, Hermione Granger's soul, was pulled there, trapped in that cup along with Voldemort's," she said instead, tone asking.
Hogwarts answered with a simple yes.
"The bond will stay as long as Hermione Granger's soul still exists, or I could destroy the cup first and destroy a piece of my own soul with it," she said again, this time tone asking but not really asking.
Hogwarts answered anyway. "Yes."
She closed her eyes, willing the empty room to disappear.
Madeline Crouch would really savor killing Voldemort when the time comes.
.
Barty thought the new school term had started out rather splendidly.
First, he got to buy the newest Nimbus broom and could fly it freely in the pit with his friends anytime he wanted - he had always liked to fly and though he was allowed to fly back at home, it just wasn't as fun to fly on his own.
Second, he discovered a wicked room that would give him anything he asked, much thanks to his dear sister. It was too bad that he couldn't tell his friends about the room, but Barty wasn't overly sad about it. He still had Madeline.
Lastly, of course, was Madeline's willingness to actually give him a few slots in her schedule. That summer Barty caught her spending some time with father in the study room, and was finally told that Madeline was working on a project for the ministry. She promised she would let him on the project after he caught up with OWL materials – which they would cover this year in his own private study session with Madeline.
A private study session with Madeline was a precious and most sought opportunity - Regulus was stupid to stop his own potion study session, but hey, the more he loss, the more Barty gained! His yearmates, at least, acknowledged the superiority of Maeline's lessons. They were asking for Madeline to teach them again – a request that Barty denied because, really, they should breeze through transfiguration and charms this year with the foundations Maddy had thought them last year.
And so, now Barty had Madeline for himself- how fun.
It was their third study session when Madeline asked him to go ahead to the dorm after they finish studying, claiming that she needed to talk to a friend. Barty trudges to the dungeon, his eyes catching a couple of ravenclaws cornering another ravenclaw when he passed the fourth floor. It was just a daily occurrence in Hogwarts, or so he had learned.
Just as he entered the common room, his eyes immediately caught what was distinctly belonged to him. A white fluffy cloud, under someone who was definitely not named Barty Crouch. His eyes quickly narrowed, previous good mood dissipated into thin air.
Barty approached his cloud silently before making a remark, "Those are my clouds."
Evan, the thief, looked over his shoulder and grinned without care. "Finally. Care for a game of gobstone?"
"Gobstone, Evan?" He eyed the game that was spread on the table with not a spot of interest. "I'd rather retire to my room."
Evan blinked, exchanging a glance with both Rabastan and Regulus. "Oh. Well. It will be just the three of us then."
They could teach a puppy to play gobstone with them and Barty honestly couldn't care less. "My clouds, Evan."
Evan let out a defeated sigh but still didn't move. "Ten more minutes? The sofa doesn't feel right to my back."
He glared at his friend. Evan had whined over his back for more than two dozen times since they started school – It had only been two weeks. "I told you to check your back with Madam Pomfrey already."
But because Barty was nice, he sat on the sofa next to Rabastan and glanced at the clock to mark the ten minutes time. Rabastan, merlin helped him, had the nerves to pass a stone to him, and so Barty gave him his judgy eye and moved to sit next to Regulus.
He should have known that Regulus was worse than Rabastan.
"Where is Madeline?"
His butt hadn't even touched the sofa.
"She's meeting her friend," Barty gritted out his reply patiently. Regulus blinked uncaringly.
"Which friend?"
"Dunno. Find out for yourself."
Rabastan tiredly looked at him dead in the eyes. "You know he definitely would, right?"
Barty rolled his eyes. At this point, sicking Regulus at his sister was better than dealing with the boy himself.
Though he didn't participate in their silly game, Barty watched the game proceeding with a reasonable degree of interest. Gobstone was one of the games Madeline introduced to him, but both of them preferred their own made up games rather than this ridiculous game. He didn't understand why his friends bother with this boring game – until he realized that they were not playing with the usual disgusting stones. They were all solid gold stones that would sprinkle some dust at the loser's face. And that dust made you talk with funny voices.
They were pretty funny.
Feeling bad towards his friend who was so thoroughly beaten in each round, Barty finally point out his observation. "Evan. Reg's been cheating. See?"
He took a stone from Regulus' hands, earning him a glare from Regulus, and threw it badly to the table. The stone still hit the other stones out from the circle. "He charmed some of his stones and left the others uncharmed so you wouldn't suspect anything."
Evan flushed as he gave Regulus a stink eye. "You disgraceful son of a-aw-" He moved to hugged his chest and quickly hid his pained expression. "-a wizard. This calls for a war."
For the first time since they played the game, they didn't snicker at Evan's unnaturally high pitched and squeaky voice. Barty, Rab, and Reg exchanged a brief look, before Regulus finally stood. "You really should visit the hospital wing. I'll take you there."
Evan opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when he noticed someone lurking behind Regulus.
"Black. Lestrange."
Barty tilted his head curiously at the creepy looking guy. His body was lean, almost awakwardly tall. But he had an exceptionally large head, so Barty wasn't sure hoe much of his head contributted to his height. Both Regulus and Rabastan stood a little straighter in his presence, which meant they acknowledge the older guy's station. His first name unfortunately escaped Barty's memory, but the guy was definitely one of the Carrows twins.
"Come to the classroom at the end of the dungeon's hall on Thursday, 8 PM." He handed both Regulus and Rabastan a fancy green card - Slytherin Duelling Club was written under a silhouette of a snake opening its mouth, fangs much too long for it to be real. "You're invited too, Rosier. We'll see you then –"
"Don't I get an invitation as well?" Barty cut the older boy, glancing at the card Evan got. His friend was buzzing with excitement and didn't seem to mind his previous pain. "I'm as capable as Evan is in dueling."
Barty tried his best to meet the older boy's beady eyes, but he couldn't help but feel unsettled. The Carrows really had unnaturally bulging eyeballs. And with those eerie eyes, the older boy looked at Barty as if he was nothing.
"We accept a select few only," the older boy stated simply. He nodded at the others, "I'll see you all then."
The four of them watched as the older boy returned to where he previously sat – the sofa right by the fireplace. The spot for only the highest ranking of Slytherins in their common room. Sitting there with him were his twin, Yaxley, Gibson, Greengrass, and a couple other people that Barty really couldn't remember.
"Git," he called under his breath. Evan winced out a reassuring smile.
"Sorry mate."
He turned up his nose at their cards. "That's alright. I probably could learn more from Madeline than from this club anyway. I'm going to bed."
He hid his empty hands in his pockets as he retreated to his room. "And check that back at the hospital wing!"