Hermione hated to admit that her experience with crookshanks greatly influenced her actions with Barty.
It's not that she thought of her brother like a pet. She didn't. But she couldn't help but compare the memories of crookshanks when he rolled over, inviting her to rub his belly, with Barty who was currently pointing his finger on one of the pictures in A Guide to Dragons.
"That's chinese fireball dragon!" Barty eagerly informed his sister. "Or the Liondragon. They can shoot fire from their nose."
Hermione smiled at the little boy. He was reciting all he knew about dragons, which was a lot because he was in a bit of a phase. His room was all dragon-themed, and Hermione's abraxan had been chased by dragons too many times in their games now. It didn't help that Mother had been reading his books about dragons every time he asked for it, and that Hermione kept on with the routine. The dragonology show off had been going on for weeks, and Hermione still nodded patiently with her heart screaming 'cute!' every time he did it.
She caved in, giving Barty what he wanted. "You sure know a lot about dragons, Barty."
The boy's chest puffed in pride, his cheeks in red.
Hermione felt like she was looking in a mirror, whenever Barty was like this. Barty was hungry for attention and acknowledgement, not unlike her with her hand always up in the air every time a professor asked a question. With her, it had been the feeling of disconnect with the new world that caused it, while Barty's need for attention and acknowledgement probably stemmed from how neglectful his father was to him. To his family, really.
The man was keeping a distance from his own family and Hermione couldn't fathom why.
Not that she needed him much. Hermione was content with Barty and Mother, maybe even happy.
(Playing pretend with Barty certainly helped her to avoid remembering the future. She did not want to think about Voldemort gathering masses or Him recruiting Fenrir Greyback, as indicated by one Prophet paper a few mornings back, with werewolf attacks increasing rapidly. She definitely didn't want to think about Bellatrix Black, who was just announced to be engaged with Rodolphus Lestrange by the Prophet, or about the passing of England's first muggleborn Minister for Magic due to mysterious illness-)
"Barty!" Her mouth blurted out, immediately stopping her from falling deeper to the rabbit hole. It always worked, as she focused on the little boy in front of her, her brother, who looked up from his current favorite book only because she called him.
She, Madeline Crouch. His sister.
Her little brother tilted his head, "Maddy?"
Pulling her brightest smile, Hermione moved on. "What about Ukrainian Ironbelly? Do you know anything about about them?"
Barty's eyes shone and he immediately went on a rant about his dragons, and Hermione listened attentively. Barty was an expressive child, his face kept on changing as he spoke about the ferocity of the particular dragon and its hoarding habit. Paying a closer look at how his blue eyes sparkled and how his cheeks got rosier, she was reminded of how Mother's cheeks got rosier too when she spoke about interesting new articles on Challenging Charms. She wondered if her own cheeks did it too. As she had been avoiding looking in the mirror, she would not find the answer soon. A mirror unsettled her, this time it was not because of her bucked teeth nor untameable hair, but because the lack of them-
She blinked, catching up Barty's words. He had trailed off to dragon lair and their gold stashes.
Bad thoughts, Hermione scolded her mind, returning to Barty's vast knowledge on dragons.
Madeline Crouch was a big sister, the best big sister for Barty Crouch, and right now, Hermione was playing the part.
.
There was a seat at the window sill in the library, a place she resided at every time she drowned herself in the never-ending knowledge of the magical world. Facing the border of the Crouch manor's land, she could see the faint glow of the ward through the window, every time something, mainly animals, crossed the border. She sometimes lost her thoughts in the middle of her reading, choosing to stare at the far distance of the view the window offers her. That was not the case for today.
The cases of dark wizards across the British isles were certainly interesting. There were horrible cases that revolve around horrible people doing horrible things, yet there were also cases that seemed to feel... unfair. Like the case of a Lord in 1780 who was sent to Azkaban because of a 'dark artifact' he owned. The defense was that it was a family heirloom, one that he did not want to lose, therefore he put a nasty curse, dark natured she supposed, in the object, so those with bad intention would not be able to touch it without experiencing a great deal of pain. The object itself wasn't evil or anything. It was just a watch with the family crest on it, charmed to be a repellant for bad curses.
Someone saw it in the Lord's office and got caught in the curse. The Lord ended up going to Azkaban because there was not enough evidence of the intention aspect of the curse. He didn't design the curse, after all, and many family records were ruined by that time. No one wanted to risk getting cursed with dark magic to test it. After many cases similar to this, dark artifact ownership had been heavily regulated, bordering on a prohibition. The laws quickly segregated the old families who practiced 'dark arts' and those who didn't. The two sides grew into an extreme polarization, and the 'dark families' became more sneaky, and cunning, in their pursuit of preserving what they've been taught.
It was also interesting that around this era, the concept of dark magic had already been established. Just the previous edition, there was no mention of 'dark natured magic'. It was simply dark wizards and witches, those who intentionally harm others repeatedly.
Barty Crouch's aversion for dark magic surely didn't make it easier for her to read more about the matter. What constitutes dark natured magic, exactly? Was it really only the intention to harm?
Hermione remembered the battle, where she used many spells in her repertoire to fight the death eaters. She casted Duro to transfigure something big into a rock several times, crushing the death eaters underneath. She used the slicing hex freely, aiming her spell at their eyes. That day, she intended it to harm.
So what she did was supposed to be classified as dark, but it wasn't. A slicing hex was not dark, and neither was a transfiguration spell such as Duro.
This was all so confusing, and it would be better if only someone was not trying to sabotage her reading time-!
She looked up to the culprit. Barty, now seven, was big enough to learn to read. But here he was, making a nuisance of himself as he tried to tickle her nose with a quill. She blew the feather off her face. "It is rude to bother others when they are in the middle of something, Barty."
"But you've been reading the whole day!" He sulked, dropping to sit beside her. He narrowed his eyes, "I let you read all day yesterday. And the day before that."
A faint guilt washed over her and she tried to keep her face from grimacing. It's true that she hadn't been attentive to him lately... but she just found a good read! The next chapter will be describing the offenses of Magwinn the Evil Bald from 1801! Madelaine huffed. "You can always join me when I read."
"Yeah, but I want to do something else!"
Her lips curled. His whining started to get her. Internally, Hermione fights off her inner devil, which currently was having a deep urge to just shake off the boy, and throw him out of the window!
She exhaled.
Throwing tantrums on a seven years old child would not do. One eyebrow lifted, she stared down at her little brother.
Barty stared back.
A pause.
"Argh. Alright!" Damn it! She's weak!
Barty brightened and immediately jumped to his feet, asking her to hurry up and follow him. Sighing, she couldn't stop the fond smile that was forming on her face as she followed the energetic boy outside, straight to the garden.
She and Barty had become inseparable since their first meeting. Hermione couldn't help but see Barty like a duckling, following her wherever she went. He liked the attention she was giving him, and he liked her knowledge even more. The two of them had been playing all sorts of games, and Hermione always tried to educate Barty in them.
"That's Moly plant." She explained in their exploration today. Barty was furrowing his eyebrows at the white flower, trying to carve the plant's shape in his mind and memorizing its name. She smiled as she bent her knees, making Barty do the same. "The flower has an unassuming look, doesn't it? Well, go on. Pick it up to the last of its roots. Now, see there? The root is black, unlike many other plants. That's the distinctive physical characteristic of the Moly plant. If you're not sure what you got is Moly plant or not, just check the color of the root. Moly plant's magical properties have a restorative nature in the human body. It is used in the healing potions, wiggenweld potion, and the antidote to sleeping potions."
He looked up, eyes questioning. "What's a wiggenweld potion?"
"It's also a type of healing potion, but the potion has another effect, different from a typical healing potion. It rejuvenates us, replenishes our energy."
Barty looked down, staring hard at the ground.
Hermione waited patiently.
After a while, his eyes found hers.
"So, if you're tired," he reiterated, "this potion makes you not tired."
She grinned. "Exactly!"
Barty beamed. Madeline often used difficult words, but Barty could understand most of it now. It also helped that Madeline always explained what she meant if he didn't understand it the first time. But Barty liked it. It means Madeline thought that Barty was smart enough to understand difficult words.
Time made them grow closer, with their games and their shared time at the library. As Hermione had maturity in spades, she was more perceptive of Barty's behavior. She also made communication work for them, pulling Barty out of his tantrums and making him talk about what's making him frustrated. With it, almost all of their conflicts were resolved in a short period of time.
For Hermione, it felt like having a group again. She and Barty walked into troubles not unlike how Harry and Ron always dragged her into it. Barty was a bit like Ron, prideful and jealous with wit beyond her, but he also reminded her of Harry, with all his good intentions and mischief, in addition to his sensitive side.
Sometimes, Hermione wondered how a child as sweet as Barty could grow to become a death eater maniac. The Crouch was not a pureblood family who casually threw a slur such as... mudblood, in a conversation. In fact, Mother was quite stern about their etiquette. She always told them to be civil and respectful. Though, Hermione must say that mother was a bit... too nice. She was a hufflepuff.
She knew that she wasn't supposed to meddle with the timeline. Bad things happen to wizard who meddled with time. She knew it very well, and she understood. Oh, how she understood the severity of her mission was. She couldn't take any unnecessary risk, otherwise it would be catastrophic. Magic would fall. But she couldn't help but hope that she could do something! Everytime she tried to look at the list, Barty's face appeared in her mind and it frustrated her.
She hated this helplessness.
Hermione occupied herself with anything when these thoughts re-entered her mind. More often than not, she occupied herself with Barty.
.
"Maddy. Let's do something else."
She tilted her head, looking at her brother curiously.
Today was a bright day. June just ended and it already felt hotter. They were currently playing scavenger hunt, with a list of herbs and animals she knew Barty knew.
Barty never said no to a scavenger hunt. It was his favorite game ever since he already had a repertoire of herbs and animals he mastered. She didn't understand why he wanted to stop playing suddenly when they were already deep in the garden, away from their manor.
Barty leaned to her, his eyes glinting in a promise of mischief. He held his breath, making her wait in anticipation, until finally, "Let's do magic."
She blinked. "We don't have a wand."
He was not deterred, "Maybe we can borrow Mother's?"
Hermione shot him an unimpressed look.
Barty was used to her being compliant in his mischief, she realized it now. Her refusal did great things to him. It made him explode.
"Come on!" Shouted him, his leg kicking a rock in frustration. "Why should we wait for years to do magic? You're going to go to Hogwarts soon!"
Soon being in two years, she hid her amused smile. Barty was a bit of an impatient child. "We do magic all the time."
"No we don't!" He retorted.
Hermione sighed. When did he become this unreasonable? "You changed your shirt color last week," she reminded him.
"It was accidental magic!"
"I am not helping you steal Mother's wand." Her words were spoken with finality, one that Barty recognized, judging by his stiffening shoulder. Barty always pushed his limit with her, but Hermione knew that she had to set a line. She didn't want Barty to be a brat. In this case, he knew that there was nothing that could change her mind.
So he pouted.
Flopping to the grass, he sulkily started to search for another herb in his list.
They resumed their game in silence, but it was noticeably different than it was before. It was simply not as fun. Previously, they always shouted the newest thing they found, bickering on whoever was leading with their checked list. Hermione usually warned her brother to be careful while picking up plants with thorns, and Barty always helped her with her animal jar. Now they played in complete silence.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
Hermione only lasted for some minutes before she sneaked in a couple of glances at Barty, her mind considering something. She just couldn't take it when someone she cared for deeply was angry at her, you see? She always caved in, especially over a simple matter such as this. And that was what happened. She caved in.
"Can you keep a secret?" She spoke calmly, breaking the silence. Barty stopped.
He turned his head curiously to her, his mouth still stuck in a pout. She smirked at his reluctant expression, letting her magic flow. With ease, her jar of beetles flew to her hand.
Barty gasped, his eyes kept moving from the jar, to her, then back to the jar. "You can do magic...!" A whisper escaped him, full of wonder.
"So could you."
Barty quickly abandoned his search to approach her. He was always easy to tempt with a bit of knowledge, and this time, the knowledge came with a bit of magic. Of course he was tempted, previous sulking already forgotten. "Can you make other things come to you? Mother does it all the time with her wand."
She nodded. "The summoning spell. Type of spell: charm. The incantation is accio. Wand movement: flick upwards. Function," she opened her palm wide, and suddenly, Barty's list of hunts was in her hands, "it pulls the object you summon towards you."
"Wandless magic..." Barty breathed out. He still couldn't quite believe that his sister could do it, nevermind he had seen her doing it twice. "I read that it's very hard..."
She hummed, her mind and nerves settled as his brother was once again back in a better mood. "It requires great focus and powerful intent."
It did indeed. Hermione Granger could pull books to her since 8 years old. Accidental, of course, but she learned to master it at 12, when she could practice it whenever she liked at Hogwarts library. On the run, she learned to summon wands. It was quite useful, as she succeeded in stealing some of the snatchers' wands. Hermione only wanted her skills back, and now Madeline had mastered the summoning spell wandlessly by the time she was six. She didn't want to admit it, but magic flowed differently in Madeline's body. It felt... deeper. More connected with all around her. Hermione hated the implication of it.
Barty was mesmerized. He could learn magic before he goes to Hogwarts! And Madeline could already do it, so Barty would catch up with her in no time! "You're amazing! Teach me, please! Please, please, please, please!"
She smiled, laughing a bit when Barty dropped to his knees to beg. Hermione saw no harm in teaching him a spell, one that he would definitely learn in Hogwarts, so she agreed to teach him.
After that, Hermione helped him meditate and hone his intent. It was apparently a difficult thing to do for an eight years old. Barty often complained about having to meditate, but Hermione told him that if he practiced meditating, other wandless spells would come to him easier. He listened to her, just like how he did most of the time.
When Barty finally could summon books, quills, rocks, and any object she told him to summon, Hermione deemed him to have mastered the summoning spell. They celebrated it of course, and Hermione gave him another Best Brother sticker.
The Best Brother sticker was something she conjured on Barty whenever he treated others well, especially Winky, and after other behaviors that she wanted Barty to have. It was inspired by a tradition from Hermione's old school before she left for Hogwarts. Students getting stickers for good behaviors would increase the student's good behaviors, Hermione's mother told her once. She was reminded of it when she read Hogwarts A History again, particularly the chapter on the point system.
Hermione might have or might not have been trying to subtly change Barty's future. Not that she would consciously admit it. Everytime her mind confronted herself, she hid behind another reason for her stickers. A good sister would help guide her brother to be good, after all, and her effort became even more rewarding when Barty grew to be a good brother, on top of being a good person.
Such as one day when he stood up for her.
.
It was the autumn before Madeline's eleventh birthday. Like Hermione's, Madelaine's birthday was after her yearmate's departure for Hogwarts, so she would have to wait for another year to attend Hogwarts. Barty was more excited than her for her attendance at Hogwarts. It was nostalgic, seeing Barty reading Hogwarts, A History while telling her a bunch of facts about Hogwarts. While there was a part of her who felt excited with him, most of her feelings were just longing and anticipation.
Longing to be back in a familiar place for Hermione. She wanted to smell the old parchment from Hogwarts library, to feel the wind on her cheeks when she looked out from her window at the tower towards the Quidditch pitch, and the fresh feeling from the forest... But also anticipation because Hogwarts means that her mission would finally begin, and she didn't even know where to begin.
She had outlined her plan, yes, but even her conviction to leave things was easily shaken by her little brother. She couldn't decide what to do. There was also the fact that Hermione Granger's years in Hogwarts were never calm. From making friends because of a troll, finding out Fluffy's existence, the dragon and the stone, the petrification (Hermione couldn't even sleep properly out of fear that year!) Then being petrified, an Azkaban escapee breaking in her dorm, Ron coming at her because of his damn rat who turned out to not be a rat at all, then the triwizard championship, Harry being in the bloody tournament, Cedric's death, Voldemort return, the Order, the toad parrading as a teacher, the ministry taking control of Hogwarts, the DA, Harry being posessed, the prophecy, then Harry being obsessed with Malfoy, multiple attempt of murder by (surprise, surprise) Malfoy, Ron being an inconsiderate jerk, and then the run.
The run. Ministry. Ron got splinched. Godric's Hollow. The drawing room. Dobby. Gringotts. The Battle. Hogwarts.
Hermione closed her eyes.
Inhale. Exhale.
She was fine. She was Madeline Crouch. Madeline Crouch was safe.
Afternoon, while Barty was again sitting next to her spot in the library, mother came with a barely detained smile.
"Maddy. Barty. Your father will be joining us for dinner today."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up, while Barty appeared to be stupefied. When the spell finally ended, he looked up, meeting mother's eyes. "Really?"
"Yes," Mother simply answered.
Barty literally jumped from his seat. "Finally! I can't wait to show him my-"
"You can't show father your flying skill at dinner, Barty," she cut him as her eyes glared at him. Without Father's presence in their midst, Barty's need for Father's acknowledgement was as transparent as glass, and she knew that Barty wanted to brag about his magical prowess. But they had an agreement and her glare was to remind him of it.
"Huh?" Barty frowned. Her glare intensified, and finally, it fulfilled its purpose. Barty gulped as he remembered. "Oh yeah! I'll just tell him, I guess."
"I'm sure you can show your father your flying skill the next time we have a picnic, dear."
He scowled at Mother. "No I can't. Father always ends up canceling."
"Well," Mother grimaced. Hermione often wondered why she even tried to defend him. "Your father is a busy man..." Barty scowled even more.
Hermione pretended to be caught up in her book, ignoring Mother's pleading eyes at her. Once upon a time, Hermione tried to buffer Barty's resentment towards Barty Crouch Sr. She thought that perhaps, if Barty Jr. didn't resent his father so much, he wouldn't join the Death Eaters. But after years, Hermione's own resentment grew (he didn't even meet his family anymore except for the occasional dinner! It felt like he was never home! Hermione's own parents were workaholics but they still spare some time with her. Barty Crouch Sr. was just an awful parent.) So Hermione stopped trying to help Mother defend her husband. That man didn't deserve to be called a father.
That night, like any other night when Father graced them with his presence, the dinner was quiet. Barty Crouch Sr. took his seat at the end of the table, looking as stiff as ever. Barty was on his best behavior, like how he always was whenever father was around, and mother tried to put on a smile to warm the room.
It was pointless because the man hadn't had an ounce of warmth in his body.
"How was your day, father?" She asked, breaking the silence.
"Productive." Came his reply.
A pause.
And what a pause it was, filled with anxious glances from Barty, Mother's excessive need to reach for her drink while looking like she wanted to say something, and stoic bitterness from Hermione.
It was quite a while before mother intervened. "How was yours, sweety?"
She gave Mother a questioning look. Mother was not the one who should be asking that question. As Hermione refused to answer, Barty cleared his throat before answering. "The usual tutoring schedule. And then Maddy and I spent our time in the garden for some scavenger hunt."
"Aren't you both too old to play it?" Father said, his tone demanding. "You should be studying. The house of Crouch will depend on you to maintain its good name."
Hermione met his eyes. "We learn as we play, Father. I think we can still have fun while we're studying."
"Of course you can, sweetheart," soothed Mother, in an attempt to mend the crack in their peaceful dinner.
But for a politician, Barty Crouch Sr. was quite bad at reading the situation in his own family setting.
"Well, your playing time will be over soon," he said.
"Of course," Barty beamed, taking it as a positive change of topic. "Maddy will finally go to hogwarts next year."
"Madeline is not going to Hogwarts next year."
There was a deafening pause, the calm before the howling winds of a storm.
It was Hermione who broke out of it.
"I beg your pardon?"
"What do you mean, Bartemius?" Mother asked, and Hermione caught the implication. It seemed like this decision was made one sidedly.
Barty Crouch Sr. explained. "Her health is weaker than others. We will give you private tutoring."
"My health is not weaker than others, Father," she objected, her eyes challenging him. "I am perfectly well. I can play, run, explore the garden, and do anything other children do." She narrowed her eyes, "Perhaps you would have noticed if you were ever home."
"Mind your manners. A young lady does not speak against her lord."
She had enough. "Well her lord is saying stupid things."
There was quite a gasp from Mother, while Barty looked like he saw a dementor riding a unicorn, confused and horrified that he was. Barty Sr. was...well let's just say red was not his color.
"Go to your room."
His tone was full of demand, not unlike the tone of a child's throwing a tantrum when their wish was denied in her ears.
She heard it loud and clear.
Hermione stood with all the grace she could muster, not once she hesitated nor showed any repentance or fear. Before she left the room, she turned to see her supposed father again and declared, "I will attend Hogwarts and you will allow it."
.
She didn't hear anything after that. She focused on her walk, her breathing.
That was probably why she didn't realize that Barty was following her the whole time, and only noticing his presence when she got to her room.
"Barty?"
Her brother shrugged and gave her a hug.
Hermione was speechless. She didn't know that Barty would follow her... He was always so eager to spend time with his father... a hint of guilt creeping in her heart. "I'm sorry. I know you've been waiting to spend time with Father."
Barty shook her head in their hug, "I like spending time with you better."
Her heart clenched, and she hugged him tighter.
.
They ended up sitting on her bed, Barty hugging his knees as he watched his sister play with her curls, eyes lost in thoughts.
"I hope Father allows you," he spoke, breaking the silence. "You're not sick anymore. It's not fair if I'm the only one who has a friend."
Hermione smiled fondly at his words.
Unlike Hermione, Barty was allowed to have play dates. It was mind boggling for Hermione that a parent could be this obtuse. Barty Crouch's overprotectiveness was bordering insanity level, as he did not allow her to go outside the Manor. Even Barty was given playtime just because Mother begged Father to allow it. Emilia Rosier neé Montague was mother's best friend, after all.
Barty's only friend was none other than Evan Rosier (someone Alastor Moody killed in the future... but she didn't dwell on that fact) though Hermione had only heard of him. He seemed like a nice friend to have, from what Barty told her. To hear Barty hoped she got a friend like his... she smiled, feeling warmth creeping her heart, and Hermione conjured another Best Brother sticker.
"Thank you," she smirked at his apparent glee for getting another sticker. "Thank you for accompanying me against Father here. And thank you for thinking of me. You really are the best little brother ever."
He huffed playfully. "I'm your only brother. And stop calling me little."
She laughed, hugging him again for a second time.
Hermione was thankful that she had Barty in her new life. These past years had been a blessing, a break from the bleak reality. While yes, there had been missing people cases splattered across the prophet, and she knew that Voldemort was gathering his army, but she was only Madeline Crouch, a child. It was not yet her battle. If there was one thing she regretted in Hermione Granger's life, it was the constant worrying for visible and invisible threats. She realized now how pointless to be worried constantly, how she wasted much of her time for purposeless reading just because she thought she was behind others or that Harry might need it. Hermione Granger didn't have much time for personal advancement. Now Madeline Crouch had all the time in the world for it and more, with her little brother accompanying her.