PG-13. Mild language. Mild violence. Char.:
Barty Crouch Jr, Sirius Black. The Crouch family in the later chaps. This is NOT a Slash fic. Summary:
Sirius and Barty Jr., unaware of it, end up in the same detention, which leads into battle of egos until they have to learn that each others are only human after all and even find something in common. The other chapters are something else though related to the first.. Chapters:
Four. (4). The 2nd & later, do not base on any game topic anymore and so are completely written da me and are all about the Crouch family. Author(s):
WolfAngel'JR (at FanFiction.Net - bendaimmortal here.) And in the first chapter also a friend of mine for Sirius as this bases on a rpg topic we wrote, she as Sirius, I as Junior.
***** A/N My Junior’s looks come from the actor Jamie campana, bell and Senior's from director Thomas Vinterberg: link
(My fan video about BCJ and his father, to Red's song 'Breathe Into Me'.) A/N
------- Use well the days Chapter 1.
Crusty-looking Sirius Black walked towards the boys’s toilet, carrying a bucket including some soap, a towel and a scrubbing-brush. Of course he was used to detentions but this time he had to suffer some kind of a punishment made up da several teachers. They apparently had got fed up keeping him and James o one of the duo in detention and had now punished him for numerous offenses at once. ’You wash the boys’s toilet’s floor and te wash it good. And no use of magic is allowed, you’ll do it da your own hands. We’re gonna find out if you’ve used some magic o shirked in any way, and then you’ll have to do it all over again. So better just humble yourself now and do it well, Mr. Black. While te wash the floor, te can give a good thought to if te should have tormented all those fellow students and turned them into a crossbreeding of different animals...’
Those words still echoed in Sirius’s head when he reached the toilet. His mind also played an image of Snivellus and other Slytherins’ expressions should they see him now. He was also haunted da Remus’s words, Sirius could so lively hear how he would now say something like "I told te so, Sirius…You shouldn’t have...You’re only get trouble…" The extremely ill-humoured marauder furiously pushed the door open, stepped inside, closed the door behind himself and dropped the bucket on the floor. Looking around he saw right away that this wouldn’t be a small task. da worst he’d be here until the morning light. Mindless sadism! False hope to think that this would make any positive influence, but exactly the opposite, he would break rules all the more, as a revenge for this humiliation. This would give all the più energy to him in his offenses with the Marauders. He picked the bucket up again. Suppose it’s better start right away if wishing to get out some time. A small comfort was that no one was witnessing this state of abasement. This was so embarassing. Sirius rolled up his sleeves and brushed his hair off his eyes. Yep, a good old muggle cleaning man, soon on that floor on his knees with a scrubbing-brush.
The same toilet was approached da a younger boy – but he either wasn’t jumping of joy, and it was unlikely that seeing Sirius would change the matter. The boy only knew he’d spend the detention with ”Mr. Black’. Barty Crouch Junior approached the toilet and his sentence seemed to be the same as the precedente case’s – seeing to the bucket, towel and a scrubbing-brush. To him muggle type of work was nothing new but his ill-humoured state of mind was fired up da the fact that this detention would not be all there was to his sufferings. He tried to think of what Dumbledore might have written in that damned letter. How much Dumbledore even knew? At least the fact that he had studied dark magic all anno – in which itself of course was nothing special o strange, seeing to his his father’s line against Voldemort, but the thing was that he hadn’t kept to libri available to everyone o studied only on his spare time. And the rumours told that he had practiced them on at least two innocent younger students without any provoking. They were true but of course he had denied them the best he could. The rumours themselves hadn’t yet cause him trouble, but after Filch had revealed couple of his observation of which the boy had had no clue, the teachers had decided to dig into everything.
It must have been really hard to believe. The Gryffendor son of the Crouch family – suspicious hobbies could not be possible. A possibility of Sirius Black having talked to someone after all, crossed Barty’s mind. Walking on, he muttered unprintable things while his thoughts wandered back to an incident from couple of weeks earlier. ’Have it your way, Crouch. If te want to play, let’s play then. For your information, I’m not going to give up on this matter. te can deny what you’re doing just as long as te wish, but I’m going to find out. I have never even detto that if te told me what you’re up to, I would use the information in any way. I simply want to know. Feel free to curse me right here, stupefy o whatever, but still I’m gonna find out. Or, of course te can throw me down these stairs and escape into the castello - yeah, that would be so very brave. No doubt typical for your cowardly nature, but useless. te see, I’m not going to give up.’
It had begun from a quite normal but still a bit strange situation. Black had stuck his nose into his business, asking him to let go the ratto on which he had been practicing transfiguration, because it might have been his pet. da some twisted way it had ended up into each others’s nightly sneaking. After the crap had gone on for minuti with increasingly arrogant comments, from both of them, but still, Barty’s patience had ended. It had lead him half accidently to give a practical answer to Mr. Black’s curiosity – boiling his blood in the middle of afternoon and front yard. At least it had been one of the least dark ones he’d been learning. Regardless of the incident possibly being one reason for the current situation, he couldn’t help but grin – Bkack had stuck his nose into businesses that were none of his and spoken as if he knew all about, though in truth knew absolutely nothing about him o his personality.
The memory was sweet but he was angrier da the moment. He couldn’t deny he was partly to blame in any case – he still hadn’t learnt self-control in such situations related to things he really didn’t need too many people to know about. And he had had other plans for tonight. Of course he would’ve used magic to pass the detention quicker even though it was not allowed, but naturally Dumbledore had wanted to confiscate his wand, and he wouldn’t get it back until the summer vacation begins. Out-counting the durations of transfiguration and charms classes of course. And he would get to have it full time at school only if he brought a note signed da his father, that it was ok. In other words – he was pretty sure - unless he’d manage to borrow other people’s wands, he could baciare magic goodbye until the graduation day. For three years! It seemed like an eternity even to a wizard used to a muggle style living. He had to come up with a good way to tell his side of the story. He was a bad liar, really sucked at it, but then again it wasn’t even his intention now – but the problem was that even truth had difficulties when it came to his father understanding. And the truth was that his motives were not as dark as it must seem da the first impression. And as if his father’s reaction wasn’t enough to stress about, he couldn’t help but think of his mother who most likely wouldn’t get any better da such news. Barty Junior had detto he’d scrub both toilets’s floors every giorno for the rest of the semester if only the headmaster didn’t write anything to his folks He had really meant it and it must have shown but still Dumbledore had done it.
He reached the toilet door and kicked it open, dramatically and loudly, and as loudly threw in the bucket and other stuff, and followed himself, glaring around, having one più secondo to hope that ’Mr. Black’ meant Regulus but of course not.
Sirius, who had just begun filling his bucket with water and sunk into deep and ill-humoured thoughts and longing for James’s company, was startled da the loud bang of the door and took couple of paces backwards. Instinctively his hand reached for his wand, but oh yeah…it wasn’t there.
What? Crouch! Of all the students in the school it had to be Crouch! da the cleaning implements thrown on the floor, he came to the conclusion they had been assigned to do this together. The poor Marauder hadn’t had the slightest idea of someone else sharing the detention. Perfect, just perfect… Just when he’d thought this couldn’t get worse, wasn’t that weirdo in the same room, soon enough scrubbing the floor with him.
Sirius’s first reaction was pure anger and endless irritation, but when he looked around the toilet, at himself, Crouch, and the muggles’ cleaning implements, he burst into a laughter coloured with desperation, gloom and black humour.
Barty just stared at him with fed-up expression.
"Great. This is promising..."
After glancing at his cleaning implements he began to think it really might be promising..
Of the expression Sirius drew a conclusion that Crouch’s sense of humour was hanging somewhere around the seventh dimension, and this situation didn’t truly much humour him either, and that combination in the end was unbelievably comical, in some sick way.
"Well, well… Greetings", Sirius detto amongst his laughter and shut the water tap, grabbing the filled bucket and put it on the floor. "Ta-daa!", he then exclaimed, doing a theatrical gesture with his hand, a wide fake-smile painted on his face. "I guess it’s time TO SCRUB THE FLOOR!”
Barty was watching the act, expressionless.
He walked to his cleaning implements, gathered them together and against the bacheca sat down on the sink tavolo and took as relaxed position as possible, which wasn’t too easy for the room was very limited regardless of the few sinks.
He stretched and crossed his legs over one of the sinks and dug a Cioccolato frog from the pocket of his jeans.
"Yeah. go ahead. Since you’re so eager to begin, you’ll get the honour. I may consider joining te at some point.", he stated calmly and opened some of the buttons in his shirt, to feel as relaxed as possible, as he couldn’t leave the room too soon.
Now that he had a chance – he wouldn’t sweat at scrubbing a floor at least until it would be clean enough from Black’s working on it. If they thought, that after all the consequences he’d already had, he’d also do something like that, they sure had Lost their minds.
Sirius raised his eyebrows with mixture of disbelief and surprise as he silently watched Crouch, who obviosuly had no intentions in doing anything even related to the assignment. Once again little mister Crouch was about to get away with avoiding this and do it in so infuriating and selfishly arrogant way, that it was utterly unendurable. Rage begun to take over Sirius’s mind in an uncontrollable way, like those couple of weeks fa on the stairs. That Crouch had an extraordinary ability to get this animagus on the verge of an over-whelming rage fit.
Just a moment fa he had believed that scrubbing a toilet floor in muggle way could not piss him off any worse but how wrong can one be! But because a wand was not available there was no sense in attacking. Also, Sirius knew that no mental humiliation would be any use and so no sense in wasting time and energy on such.
He’d have to find another tactic but it required first calming down. Sirius gave a deep sigh, forced some kind of a smile on his face, and then without a word, moved his bucket and other implements on the floor, taking a spot couple of metres away from Crouch. He knelt on the floor and mixed soap and water ("It does go like this? This is how the muggles do this? Whatever...”
), soaked the brush in the water and began to scrub the floor. ’The faster I suffer and do this, the faster I get out...’
Sirius repeated that in his mind over and over again like some sacred mantra, to hold on to his self-control and to endure better the humiliation.
He scrubbed the floor with the brush and soap as fast but as carefully as he could, because he certainly was not going to do it all again. They could not make him, already this was way too much for his pride. And of course after this – so Sirius thought – that Crouch would, awfully pleased, spread exaggerated stories about how "Black scrubbed the toilet floor on his knees while I ate Cioccolato frogs and enjoyed every second." But Crouch couldn’t possibly have the patience to just sit there through this, without doing anything? Could he? Surely he would soon get tired of waiting and want to get out faster and would help? Right? Sirius wasn’t sure at all. Maybe if he behaved as stressful as he knew how to, Crouch would hope to get away and so help… maybe..
Barty took something from his jeans’s pocket and begun to read it, munching away another Cioccolato frog. But he felt the desire to enjoy the scene and glanced at Sirius working, hoping he’d have a camera, even a pocket size and disposable would do. Sirius checked from the corner of his eye what Crouch took from his pocket. Not a wand, thank God, but... what’s that? Uncle Scrooge!! He really felt like mouthing off… Keeping the insults in was downright painful. Of course Crouch was Leggere only to annoy and provoke the situation, so Sirius controlled himself, though it truly was a challenge. Son of the famous and powerful Bartemius Crouch Sr. isn’t Leggere law libri o Hogwarts: a History, but Uncle Scrooge! Some muggles’ comic book where half naked ducks run around without pants! Just in time Sirius managed to disguise his burst of laughter as some sort of a cough. o the magazine was just disguised as a comic book and in fact included something completely different, te never know.
"It’s recommendable to start from the furthest corner and sposta towards the door...", Barty stated. sounding finally good-humoured, behind his magazine.
Not that he’d have done that work much but he knew enough, having many muggle Friends and having been raised very much with muggle methods.
"Thank te for your kind advice, but I start from here, I know what I’m doing", Sirius said, when he had finally got his face just about serious again.
"Oh, gee, oopsie", he then said, when some soap water ”accidentally” flew off the brush, on Crouch’s shirt. "Sorry."
"Never mind. That can happen", Barty stated in serene tone, for the ’accident’ was an obvious provoking attempt and he wasn’t that easily annoyed.
Sirius however pondered how much mental effort it took for Crouch to take it that calmly. Must have been hard. Hopefully really, really hard. It was also harder da the moment, for Sirius himself to endure that Crouch was mostrare no signs what-so-ever, of bothering to do absolutely anything while they were there. Was probably going to sit there until the end. And he was sure that even if he told about it to Dumbledore later, it would be no use, Crouch would surely wiggle his way out of it and accuse him of lying and probably even succeed. Besides, telling on people didn’t suit a Marauder anyway. They would rather use some other method to get a message through.
So, Sirius continued working, trying to look as neutral as possible, yet to be a bit più annoying, he began to sing the most annoying work song he could think of, so loudly that the toilet echoed, and he whistled the tune, hardly able to stay serious.
"Please, go on, and someone will surely come and witness your state of abasement", Barty grinned behind his comic book, until finally threw it into one of the sinks and focused on eating his candy.
"Well, if someone did happen to come around, it really wouldn’t bother me. No doubt the one, who’s in a state of abasement is te and not me", Sirius detto calmly and overly good-humoured.
"Let them come, even the entire school, at least we’d see if te in that situation would still dare to just sit there doing nothing except Leggere your indecent anatra magazine. Yes, I do know that there’s half naked ducks in that magazine! Well, I won’t adjudge, we all have our taste.."
Sirius grinned to himself while he turned his face away from Crouch as he washed the floor.
Barty dismissed it all with an amused snort, but then the marauder continued, half to himself but out loud.
"On the other hand, would it not be a scandal if someone saw the Crouch family’s son on his knees on the floor with a scrubbing-brush. The Daily Prophet would probably make a headline o two out of it, not to mention other kind of papers. And te probably aren’t used to get your hands dirty. o do anything without a wand. te must be lost, poor kid, when at home everything’s surely done for you. te probably wouldn’t know how to do this even if te tried. Spoiled...", Sirius ranted on, but cut off when he remembered he was supposed to act as if he didn’t mind the situation the least bit.
Barty only raised his eyebrows at the Daily Prophet talk. Unlikely such headlines would be, for the quality of the paper would’ve alarmingly sunk if a detention of a school boy was any news – no matter how famous his father was. But no matter, for the rest of Black’s rant had crossed some line. If his family life was più normal, he might have dismissed it all as if he didn’t even hear them, but in the light of the accurate, he had sometimes pondered would he be happier if things really were that way. That combined to the true situation and the tone in which Sirius has detto his assumptions, was enough to stir a spark of anger inside him.
It was quite impossible to even make believe to be helpless and spoiled, even as the only child of a rich family, if mother was deathly ill and spent most of her time in hospital, and father was in Amore with his work and codes. Especially as the first mentioned had cast a shadow over the family for the past few years and caused several crises. Of course Winky did most of the bigger house work but he had never been able to avoid responsibilities – in any case, not to mention offenses, which he had always done più than enough. Well, the mother had let him get away with anything and probably would let him get away with a murder, and to her attitudes Sirius’s words seemed to just about fit – but the father had always quite well balanced the matters and so the raising and family life had been somewhat inconsistent. And he had had to grow up independent for neither of the parents had been much there for the latest three years.
The soap water had been a ridiculous and desperate provoke attempt, but this – even though ignorant ranting – went too far.
Now Crouch did have much difficulties to keep from jumping on the floor and try to drown Sirius Black into his bucket of dirty water. It may have shown even though the boy tried to remain cool and calm as well as he possibly could. If his sense of humour had been around other dimensions at the beginning, it had now ceased to exsist. Barty drew a breath, coughed quietly as if about to say something but only picked up the Uncle Scrooge again and begun to page through it again.
He didn’t consider Black worth of helping o getting mad at. But already while speaking Sirius couldn’t help but notice from the corner of his eye that his words had affected Crouch più than any other ones before. And he pondered if he should just let it go o fuel up the fire? After all Crouch had some time fa pulled quite an ugly trick on him. Some words were nothing compared to it.
Sirius noticed the bucket was empty and got up, walked to one of the taps successivo to Crouch and started to draw water into the bucket. While waiting for it to get filled, he leaned on the wall, letting his arms rest and kept an eyer on Crouch, who was still hidden behind his magazine. Strange, really unusual that Crouch didn’t say anything on such comments.
"Tell me", Sirius said, directing his words più at the roof that at Crouch, who looked at him over the magazine.
"What is your life like in the Crouch Paradise? How many personal house elves do te have? Must be wonderful, when everything’s so smooth and done for you. Your mother of course makes a fuss of te all giorno long, as she doesn’t work, right? And here at school, te surely can do anything te please, when in the end daddy is around to explain everything for the better and hush it down, so that the family name won’t get stained? Wow, your life must be easy. Meh, I could almost think myself envying you, if te didn’t happen to be an arrogant and spoiled idiot, who apparently can’t do anything without a wand. How sad.."
Actually Sirius didn’t even know why he detto all that, for Crouch hadn’t provoked him to say any of that. Somewhere inside, though Sirius didn’t want to admit it even to himself, he knew that the words sprung from his own, suppressed hate and bitterness for his own family and especially for his mother.
Barty, while listening to that crap, couldn’t help but think of a certain woman, who seemed to Amore her job even più than Crouch Sr,, and that would be utterly unhealthy level..
"Rita Skeeter must be your preferito reporter, hm?", he finally stated, appearing very tense and tried to restrain himself from doing something really stupid - again. He didn’t bother to commento on the wand matter, to reveal that in their family magic was used only occasionally – exactly so that he would’ve grown up appreciating it, but not think of it as any prime meaning of life and would learn to do things like normal people do – that Sirius most certainly knew less muggle ways and used più wand than he – besides, he didn’t have the permission to use magic outside the school, anymore than anyone else. Of course it was clear to him why Sirius probably imagined it to be the other way.. Everything else was now on superiore, in alto of Barty’s mind.
"First of all, we have only one house elf, who pretty much only obeys my dad. May be because she was in the house before I", he snorted and thinking of it at least one personal house elf sounded great.
But the image mattered no più when he remembered what the imbecile had assumed next. He begun to feel nauseated. He hadn’t discussed any of it even with his father and now to some almost-enemy he should tell?! Not in this life, if he could decide.
The loathing the situation caused covered amazingly well the pain the matter itself caused, seeing to that he had spent most of his time with his mother, until a certain workholic had stayed home più at one point – though only because his wife was no più able to look after their child, which was più than a regular challenge with his spirited nature, to which had been added increasing rebelious behavior as he had found it a good way to draw daddy’s attention off of work stuff. He had focused on enjoying the presence and attention of both of his parents, but couldn’t help feeling his father loved mother più since staying home even the usual standard much of a normal family, took an illness of the mother. Still Junior loved both of his parents, woould’ve died for either of them, but felt much più easily moving emotional bond to his mother.
"And yes, that’s right!", he admitted, deliberately making his tone sound like Sirius was right through and through. Though the only truth was that Mrs. Crouch did not have a job.
"She doesn’t work – hasn’t worked for three years! Just think about it!", he snapped, throwing the magazine at Sirius’s face, who threw it on the floor, quite touchily.
"Maybe she has her reasons", Barty almost spat out, the cold smile creeping on his face, putting an emphasize on the almost murderous look in his blueish-gray eyes.
The part about him being allowed to do anything he pleases because of ”daddy hushing things down” brought the damned letter to his mind. The paradox had him give an amused and quiet laugh somewhat straight from the heart.
"And oh yes, my father’s a wonderful person when he actually remembers to live his life instead of work through it", he stated, clearly meaning it as his voice and eyes had turned lighter for the moment.
"But never in his wildest dreams would he let me get away should I do anything forbidden o stupid – and in fact I’d do nothing rather than go home with collected explanations about couple of things before he makes up God knows what immagini about my future and to avoid it comes up with something he supposes working. He’s not explaining anyone o anything, especially if it’s about the family name. He's ambitious to almost an obsessive degree and does it in any way but hushing", he continued, the cold smile stuck on his face, but he was tired of just sitting there, so dropped himself on the floor.
In their family such problems had never been covered up but tried to solve as seen best no matter what o how long it took. Junior had long fa come to see, that he never beat his father in a battle of wills, even as stubborn as he was, and learnt to reckon when better remember the thing called respect for parents, if wishing to avoid a whipping o being grounded for an eternity of something like that. He had never been treated da his official age, but da whatever age he acted like at a situation in domanda and he had thought of it fair enough. Neither of the men in the Crouch family understood enough of each others ways of thinking, though the younger one did see that the road pointed da the older was ok – but the teenage years of a child usually aren’t the easiest time for a family and parents usually are there for each other then. And just then, the mother had to get ill for good. Sirius’s version of his family didn’t really sound that tempting in the deepest, but relatively better than almost constant conflict and misunderstanding.
Sirius did listen to this minor shedding with a lot of interest but for some reason, didn’t believe a word. Everyone’s own problems were always bigger, so Crouch’s tiny little problems were più of an entertainment.
"So tell me più of your opinions on the joy of ’the Crouch Paradise’, te might become even better storyteller than Skeeter", Barty stated in rather poisonous tone, as he had walked close to Sirius and slapped his forehead quite violently.
Which was too much for Sirius. Reflex-like he pushed Crouch hard da the shoulders, away from himself, with both hands.
"Hands off me!", he detto louder than he even realized himself.
Junior’s irritations turned back into loathing which oozed from the way he looked at Sirius..
"Anyway, how about getting back to the work te were so excited about.” Of course he had seen the theatrical purpose of it but it still was più enthusiastic attitude than his own had been at any point.
”For surely it’s a beautiful sight too, the offspring of the noble and ancient Black family, obediently crawling on all fours around the school toilet ...", he then stated right away, picking the full bucket out of the sink and pushed it into Sirius’s arms so that some of the water spilled on him.
’Noble’ of course had been deliberate provoking, for as little as Junior cared about the life of the Black family, he did know, that the word in domanda wasn’t too suiting.
For a secondo Sirius stared at Crouch, his black eyes full of rage and without knowing why, flung the bucket on the floor with such a force, that the noise echoed all around and water splashed all around, on both of them and on the walls.
"Shut up!", the marauder raved. "SHUT UP! OKAY, I don’t know a damn thing about your family o why your mother doesn’t bother to do anything o why your dear father didn¨t play with te enough when te were little! Oh boo-hoo! But te know no più about me o my family! So SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Sirius looked at Crouch on the verge of even worse rage fit and didn’t know what to do, couldn’t decide where to hit and how hard o what else to throw around. He didn’t see the irony, that he and Crouch had just found something in common. Actually, he didn’t see the matter at all. And in that state of mind he didn’t have the slightest clue about, how he had just served his vulnerable side for Crouch on a silver plate.
Barty took it immediately – even though he did see the irony, he was not an exception in the way of how one’s own problems were always bigger than other people’s and Sirius had just out loud understated his – though little had he even revealed on them. Glancing at the flooding floor, he spoke again.
"Well, well… Aren’t te a sensitive case…", he stated, grinning with satisfaction, but keeping a cautious eye on Sirius, who had reacted rather strongly on relatively little provoking.
He gave the first theory that popped in his mind – that’s what Sirius had been done all along – when it came to a pure-blood family and even so ancient, even though he reckoned, that it most likely was nowhere near accurate.
"Maybe te worship your family più than life itself, getting that upset, when staining it’s imago is brought up...", he spoke calmly, leaning on the bacheca successivo to his still untouched cleaning implements.
"Is that raving advisable either, hm? What would te mother say, if she saw te in this every way very pathetic state...", he carried on, while checking his nails as if he couldn’t care less about how the other would react to anything anymore.
If Barty was right – if Sirius really cared about his family più than about his life, he couldn’t endure his mockery even as much as he had so far. But as it is, that was so utter lie that Sirius burst into a amaro laughter..
"Yes! I worship my family. Why wouldn’t I? After all they worship me too! Especially my mother. She loves me, and oh, how I do Amore her. Though of course even she isn’t perfect. She has, and my family all in all, a few little flaws."
Unaware of it, Sirius began walking back and forth on the wet floor as he explained things, again not looking anywhere but his own feet. He had to get some sense into Crouch’s delusions. Had to explain somehow. And that idiot would have to listen.
"Yes, te see a) my mother is insane. b) she wants dead everyone who doesn’t please her, which includes just about everyone. c) she has her house elves killed, when they are too old to carry a tray. d) she is so sick manipulator, that she has managed to have the house elves wish for their own execution. e) she doesn’t want me in her house and never calls me da my name. She addresses me with sweet nicknames, such as Blood traitor, Shame of flesh and Filth. f) she wants me dead, and would kill me, if I didn’t happen to be a pureblood Black f) for that reason I’m not interested in going to my own home. g) o rather, for that reason I don’t have a place to call home. h) just about my entire kin wants me dead. i) I HATE my family. j) I HATE my mother. k) I HATE THEM ALL and I hate that I belong to that sick family!"
Sirius stopped and only then noticed he had paced back and forth and that he had been yelling again. However it had been in a way relieving to say all that out loud. Now, all that we needed was if Crouch thought that he was begging for some pity points, which was as far from the truth as anything can possibly get. Rage however had lessened from what it was earlier. The Marauder sighed and forced some kind of a fake smile on his face, picked up his bucket and went to refill it.
And Barty couldn’t come up with anything to say, for that was nothing like what he’d have expected even with the knowledge on the Black family. A minuto earlier he wouldn’t have believed he’d actually get interested in the life of someone he rather loathed. Sirius spoke again.
"And da the way, I can tell, that my mother appreciates your family’s pure blood very much, but unfortunately she doesn’t like the way, in which your father throws her Heroes and Friends into Azkaban." Sirius raised his eyes from the bucket to Crouch with a gloomy grin, and for less than a secondo his smile was genuine. Something similiar could be seen on Junior’s face too, for after thinking a while, he had to admit to himself that Sirius Black’s problems were
relatively taken bigger than his. At least his family didn’t despise him, not to mention want him dead. His family was only on it’s way to the first mentioned but of that he had not the slightest idea yet. He either didn’t feel like he had a place to call home but in the light of this, it felt at least remotely like a home.
"By the way, what does your mother do, if not work? Of course mostrare off in snobby parties, taking care of relationships, mostrare off about how her sweet, darling little Barty goes to school with such a great success and how ittybitty-Barty would some giorno step into his father’s respected shoes?"
da asking that Sirius hoped to get Crouch’s thoughts away from the Black family. He was tired of hearing insults about it. Besides, to some degree Sirius too was interested in hearing più about the Crouch Paradise.
Junior’s thoughtful expression again turned into più irritated one and the feeling of sickness was returning, but he didn’t let it show. He glared at Sirius though not in as ugly way as before and decided to tell più – Sirius had after all made his assumptions in a little less inappropriate tone, though really only a little.
"First off, I could never be a judge and they both know it better than well. I do plan to take a job at the Ministry because there is many interesting ones but that’s all", he answered dryly to the last assumption. Another reason for the plan was that he’d get to see his father più but he didn’t feel any need to say that.
A heavy silence fell into the room while Barty stared at the door pondering if he should just walk out of it and leave Black here even if it took him all night. Which may have been better and spared both teens from a lot of pain. During the silence Sirius gathered himself enought to be able to carry on the washing of the floor. He lifted the bucket on the floor just about successivo to the sink, and stood there trying to gather will power to get on his knees again. Standing there, staring with glassy eyes, at the brush turning around in the water, he was prepared to listen to Crouch’s answer to those provoking words,with only half of his attention. Unlikely there would be anything but defending of a snobby mother o insults o both, which topics weren’t too interesting to hear.
"If te really believe in your critic on my mother, te may as well go to Mungo and tell it to her. She’s been spending most of her time there for the past three years in pain più o less", Crouch finally answered in an icy tone, his eyes on the door, but something completely different than the loathing he felt for Sirius, was creeping into his voice.
Sirius’s first theory was, of course, that they had made the kid lie in order to protect some worse sort of a family secret, but glancing at Crouch’s face, he saw on it, for the first time, something undisguised. So his mother really was ill, and apparently very ill, if she’d spent many years in Mungo. Sirius let go off the brush, straightened his back, but was still sitting on the floor on his knees.
"Hurry! te may still make it in time. After all they have reckoned she’ll live for a few più years, but they are just assumptions! I can explain your noble intentions to Dumbledore, if he wonders where te disappeared to in the middle of your detention!", Even he noticed himself yelling when the matter had truly begun to torment him, and any passer-by would certainly hear. But as he flung the door open, fortunately no one was there.
Utterly surprised Sirius watched Crouch as he’d begun to raise his voice just like he himself had moments earlier. Sirius didn’t register the accusations and the encouragements to run out of the door, in fact he didn’t even really listen, while he tried to take some kind of a view on what he had just heard.
"Or maybe Mr. Filth wants to carry on his work, the crawling on the filthy floor. Suits te so well. So I guess the mother knows her child..." He knew he was being unfair – Sirius could not possibly have even guessed anything like this, especially in their original situation – but in his opinion, Sirius’s assumptions in themselves could already be seen as offensive, and the più he tried to deal with his mother’s condition in his mind not to mention talking about it – the più it hurt, and there was no room for being reasonable.
"Shut the door and stop that dramatic swinging! It doesn’t quite suit your cooly arrogant nature. And I can also announce at this point, that I have not talked about any of your doings to anyone, not even to James, not yet anyway. I’ve seen from your face many times today how you’ve suspected it. I have nothing to do with why you’re here. I’m not so suicidal nor so stupid that I’d beg to get into the same room with you.”
Barty didn’t shut the door, but wasn’t able to cut off Sirius’s rant even if he wanted to, but only stared at him with tired expression. At this point that information really couldn’t have been any più insignificant.
”And also for your information", Sirius continued, grabbing the scrubbing-brush again, and his tone was coloured with growing but held-back anger, "that I’ll scrub this floor clean even six times if they tell me to, even if te sat there doing nothing during all those six times, and if te read and ate and slept there all the time and even if te insulted me every secondo of your awake time. I’m still saying, I was serious with what I detto about my mother. Do not mention her.
te shut your mouth about her, how many times does it have to be detto to get it in your little head!"
During the last two lines Sirius looked from the bucket up to Crouch with nothing in his eyes but disgust and indignation. The feeling deeper inside however, was somehow different, an unpleasent mixture of irritation and yet… empathy. It was a feeling he didn’t know how to deal with. Sirius decided to carry on his work in order to direct his thoughts elsewhere.
"I’m sorry about your mother", he then detto quietly, his eyes on the floor, almost hoping that Crouch didn’t hear. The words just came from somewhere, da half accident.
The last bits of Junior’s motives to continue about the Black family were lost, for he did hear. It was then that he realized he was still keeping the door open, let go and let it shut.
"Whatever...", he stated very quietly to himself, returning to the sinks, but no più sat on them, but only leaned on the bacheca with his hands in his pockets, partly glaring at Sirius but mostly just looking at him. He had gone for impassive tone, but it had clearly showed some gratitude for the mostrare of empathy regardless of all that had been detto and done.
As the door shut and Sirius heard it, he turned to look at it, for a short moment absolutely sure of that Crouch had left. It wouldn’t surprise him at all, in fact it was a little miracle that that triumph of shirking had been here for so long. And hey, he still wasn’t going anywhere. This was getting weirder da the moment, but not letting it distract himself any more, Siriius carried on scrubbing the floor.
Barty still had the same domande about the Black family but he chose to leave them unsaid, that much he owed Sirius, as well as taking a più appropriate attitude towards him.
"Who gave te this sadistic punishment and for what clowning this time?", he asked, his voice sounding rather neutral .Sirius couldn’t help having difficulties in keeping a poker face, He just thought slightly comical that almost humane and in other ways rather normal tone of voice had come from Crouch, though ’for what clowning this time’ at least was familiar.
"I’m not quite sure myself either... McGonagall saw me to this fate, apparently for a several different reasons, I didn’t bother to listen to that lecture, for it has a way of repeating itself every time. Of that lista of accusations I remember only a few words, like "irrespinsible behavior", "utterly foolish", "no respect what-so-ever" and "what on earth will become of you". I suppose it had something to do with my using Sniv… Severus Snape as a target of interesting transfigurations and with sneaking da night in places of which exsistance I apparently shouldn’t even know."
The Marauder smiled a while for all the events and incidents he had caused with his friends. McGonigall apparently really thought that this would hold some significance, make some difference. Even now Sirius was on all fours, his trousers soaked down from the knees, (the amount of water had increased a lot since that one bucket he had flung on the floor a while back), his knees, arms and back hurting, but no chance that he would here, like this, be humbled o ”change his ways”, like the teachers so often went on about. No use. The Marauders would never fall, at least one of them had to die before that would happen. And of course he didn’t have the slightest idea then, how dreadfully true that would some giorno come to be.
Sirius stretched his sore back and rubbed his numb wrists. He looked around and then sat on the floor, stretching his legs and leaned backwards on his hands.
"What about you, what foolishness lead te here to spend beautiful, intimate moments with me? Many people would gladly pay for that joy. Is the reason for your detention again in the series oh-so-frightning-information that te can not tell? And guess what. It looks like I’ve now washed half of the floor. I think I’ll take a short break and the dry it off. I daresay you’re the one who washes the other half."
Barty was staring at his unused cleaning implements impassively.
"Well… I guess te could say that. Filch and his cat is of the devil. The one time when he hadn’t left for his evening walk in the Forbidden Forest I had to revisit the department of the Forbidden libri in the library. That lead to certain incidents, which lead to Dumbledore’s office and couple of rumours from last autumn got some confirmation.", he recalled the events from last night, uninterested to think of them any più in depth and lifted himself back to sit on the sink table.
"It wasn’t enough for them to have me supervised every time I step into the biblioteca – as if Prill already in her regular behavior wasn’t enough – to take my wand and send a letter home, but Dumbledore wanted to send me here too. Which is why I certainly will not crawl down there even for a second.", he said, his tone leaving no room for interpretations of how much he meant it.
"Of course we can leave now – I can always say that the filthy half was your responsibility...", he stated calmly and più good-humoured than a moment ago.
"Who knows, maybe they’ll make te wash the rest and also the girl’s toilet floor...", he added, playing with a thought that a bunch of Sirius’s fan girls ended up watching him like that.
While listening to Barty’s story with undivided interest, Sirius decided to ask a domanda that had bothered him ever since Crouch had cast the blood boiling curse on him on the stairs. Asking wouldn’t cost a thing, no matter if it was answered o not. Yeah, except maybe your life when it was Crouch.
But he didn’t get the chance to ask, when Crouch announced his opinion about the work. How shocking that he had no intentions what-so-ever to do his part. What kind of a self-centered idiot, what kind of an ego had to be, to just sit there doing nothing? Sirius knew that his ego wasn’t exactly one of the smallest but at least he drew a line somewhere! Crouch didn’t seem able to humble himself into doing something unpleasent even the little he himself had. And even though he was awfully tempted to get up and try pushing Crouch’s head into the soap water and keep it there until he agreed to do his part, Sirius decided to stick to his original way. He smiled cheerfully even though irritation was again taking over, got on his knees, grabbed the brush and started scrubbing the secondo half.
"I have a question", he detto as politely as possible, after managing to ingoiare, inghiottire most of his rage. Barty cast a suspicious look at him but listened anyway.
"It’s obvious you’re interested in the darker side of magic – even to a degree that you’re here because of it and apparently cut classes for it and are sneaking around da night... I mean, te put a lot of time and trouble and make sacrifices for it, so... Why? Are te just one of those who worships and studies dark arts to be scary when in fact really fears the dark magic and studies it to lessen the fear, but without success? o are te going for some personal thing, alone, do te have some ambitious goal on the dark side? o is your dream to become a Death Eater o something? te wish someday to be the most important and dearest servant crawling at Voldemort’s feet?"
Only then Barty himself realized just how much he had sacrifised for what he had first intended to be just a side project type of a study. Only the teachers had paid attention to how one certain student had been missing so often.
"They’re fascinating, for one ", he stated calmly, recalling how meeting Bellatrix Lestrange at the beginning of the semester had him interested in them enough to check the library. Though things might be different had he known the woman was a Death Eater. For some reason he mentioned that reason first, though it hadn’t been the basic motive, nor the one that drove him.
Sirius’s assumptions were somewhat understandable, seeing to how Lord Voldemort terrorized out there, pleased that Britain seemed to be full of weak, ambitious o messed up wizards and witches. But his reasons for joining would not be any of those.
"I really can’t imagine anything less interesting than serving some lunatic", he stated, clear disgust in his voice.
"Uh-huh", Sirius detto then a little all-knowingly, ”well, if not a Death Eater, what then? Perhaps te plan to become as ’great’ as uncle Voldy o even a rival? Your goals seem to be so high, I wouldn’t be surprised. Yeah, o maybe you’re not really as interested in dark arts as te claim, but want just shock, be rebelious, to mostra off something to your father. To get noticed in his eyes? I don’t know how things work in a normal family but I’ve heard that can happen. te say you’re not going to serve lunatics but in reality you’re so afraid of Voldemort, that it’s just a mask with which te fear a little less. That’s what all the admirer’s of dark arts are. Cowards."
Junior had the hardest time to keep a serious face thinking of himself as a criminal of Voldemort’s degree. That his father would’ve fought Voldemort for years and years and then something like that would be revealed was just too ironic to be taken seriously.
Sirius’s successivo theory were so far the most accurate. He had started the studies purely because they did fascinate him – something about it’s extremeness and power which normal magic did not have. But in the deepest he didn’t even consider using his studies wrong. And the reason why he had taken his studies to unnecessary depths, was to gain his father’s attention – though he really realized it only when Dumbledore’s letter left the castle. It had been più subconscious – almost all of his attention seeking efforts had been subconsciously done for quite a while now. This wasn’t the direction he wanted to go. Above all he hadn’t wanted everything to be revelead – for less would’ve been enough.
”Hmm…”, he only voiced in a sad tone, unwilling to answer for real.
He let out a frustrated sigh when Sirius had got back to the coward matters. It was so old, and really didn’t have anything to do with him. One of his childhood Heroes had been the auror Alastor Moody. And he genuinely lived da a few of his own mottos, such as ’Rules are for breaking’, ’I wouldn’t want to shirk a responsibility but it wasn’t me’ (of course naturally only to taunt people) and above all ’If there wasn’t some huge downside to doing something stupid – it wouldn’t be worth doing it’. He might even be missing a healthy fear all in all. You’d have to know him much better than Sirius would ever get to know, to be able to throw in any way valid assumptions of what he feared o not, and why he did anything. It was somewhat annoying, that Black kept on theorizing in a certain way, though had already once found himself to be utterly wrong.
"What of te then. Your family surely includes Death Eaters, if not even your mother one of them... Maybe te hate them so much because in the deepest you’re just like them... Maybe you’re so utter coward when it comes to dark arts that te can’t admit it to even yourself...", he spoke calmly, staring at the roof.
Being called a coward himself was too much for Sirius. Rather Filth, rather Shame of flesh, he didn’t care if Crouch accused his mother of being a Death Eater, but accusations of being a coward and implying that he had Death Eater genes, went too far. Typically to his quick-tempered nature, Sirius reacted da splashing with both hands, hot water at Crouch’s direction, trying to hit his face. With an ugly grin Barty dried off his face, glaring at Sirius, who begun to rave again.
"Look into the mirror, moron, before te accuse others to be cowards! Already the fact that you’re not doing anything here, shows that you’re the one and self-centered too. "Fascinating dark arts", heavens, what a joke! It’s exactly the cowards that think them fascinating, it’s the other type of people who rather wash toilet floors than talk that kind of crap!”
Crouch didn’t have the chance to think anything of it when Sirius again, threw in the mother.
”If I was te I’d rather be helping and being there for my sick mother instead of pulling that kind of shit!”
For the first time in all those months, Barty Jr. felt pure remorse. While he had known this all along, it was only when someone detto it out loud, that it really sunk in.
”Yehyeh, if I had a mother! Whatever even is the matter with your mother? A killing kind of depression, which happened to start around your birth, maybe?", Sirius went on and then carried on washing the floor.
"AND WHEN IS THE ACREAGE OF THIS FUCKING FLOOR GOING TO END? o IS THIS SOME INFINITE FLOOR, SOME TRICK THAT LET’S SEE HOW LONG THAT BLACK’S GOING TO LAST THERE WITH THAT IDIOT CROUCH? I THINK I KNOW NOW WHAT IT’S LIKE IN HELL!" Mr. Black had Lost it. Again.
Barty oozed so strong and utter hatred and loathing that he couldn’t bring himself to speak no matter how much he tried to. No words in any language seemed strong and fitting enough.
”Use two scrubbing-brushes at once - you’ll find it out sooner!!", he yelled while picking up his own scrubbing-brush and throwing it at Sirius’s head, as forcefully as he possibly could.
Sirius had known fully well that he had crossed the line of being reasonable, taking the topic of Crouch’s mother up in such a manner. The Marauder had been prepared to get yelling and insulting language and so was utterly surprised the Crouch detto nothing. He hadn’t been prepared for violence and thus didn’t get the chance to sposta aside, but only enough so that the brush didn’t hit his face with full force but only it’s corner hit his brow, but it hurt like hell. Sirius groaned of the sudden pain, let go of his brush and wiped his bleeding brow. It was bleeding just enough for his hate to increase into an unendurable degree. Sadistic and wide smile rose on Junior’s face, though he’d have enjoyed much più if he had hit closer to an eye.
After getting over the shock of pain, Sirius got up, still holding the bleeding brow with his other hand. Almost exploding of anger, Sirius approached Crouch, who was prepared to sposta aside but nothing happened, though for sure Sirius wanted nothing più than to hit.
Crouch watched Sirius turn around and walk back to his bucket. He didn’t expect him to carry on working, so he kept an eye, trying to reckon the successivo move. But a secondo too late he realized what was going to happen and thus had time only to get down from the table. Sirius lifted the bucket and with quite a force, threw all of it’s hot water all over Crouch, then standing there waiting for a counterblow, prepared for anything.
Crouch had the time to cover his eyes but the water’s temperature was enough to make the incident unpleasent. He threw an icy look at Black but because his anger had lessened da the wound he had managed to cause, he didn’t go for anything. Though, being a wizard, a thought of reaching his wand did automatically attraversare, croce his mind. He wouldn’t have thrown any dark magic but magic all in all was so full of possibilities. But obviously, muggle stuff was good enough for this kind of purpose too.
Sirius’s words were still holding him as he snatched a towel from his bucket and dried off his hair and face..
"If te ever want to get out of here, I recommend using the water to what it’s meant for...", he detto in chilly tone, but agony was on superiore, in alto of all his mixed feelings.
"And we might even be already out of here if te had shut the fuck up and scrubbed the floor since te chose to do it in the first place..."
Standing there, watching the soaking wet Crouch, Sirius wasn’t even sure anymore why he’d done it. Was it the scrubbing-brush hitting his brow? o frustration that he wasn’t able to hit him? o anger about washing the floor all in all? Maybe all of those, and then again it didn’t really matter... what’s done is done. And he couldn’t deny it had eased his state of mind. Too bad there had went yet another bucket of water and it had to be filled for the third time just because he lacked self-control in order to keep it for washing the floor. He walked to the sinks and opened the tap again.
"Oh really. How nice that te consigli me in my work. And here I thought, that this would get done faster, if te too did something. Well, I guess I’ve been wrong all along, so if te don’t mind, I shall get back to my crawling on all fours now."
Sirius picked up the bucket and carried it to the spot where he had left.
"If te want to entertain yourself, look into the mirror", the marauder detto as he got on his knees again.
"I mean, it would be very hard to say which one is più scandalous sight – the son of the mighty Black family on his knees scrubbing a floor and bleeding, o the offspring of the mighty Crouch family in detention soaked in dirty water."
The marauder smiled to himself and hoped it would be the last spot of the floor...
"Besides, I didn’t exactly mean everything that I just said. But te can’t deny te deserved that last one I pulled.", Siriius then said, when couldn’t orso anymore, knowing that before the flying scrubbing-brush, he had went too far.
”Yeah, whatever”, Barty commented, tired and frustrated, but in amicable and acknowledging tone, and moved back to sit on the sink tavolo again. At this point however he actually considered helping but in the end chose not to, for the floor was anyway almost done.
Finally a total silence fell between them. It might have felt distracting after all that had happened, had they not been so deep in their thoughts.
Soon enough Sirius broke it with, for once completely neutral comment.
"This is really hurting all over, this sadistic, sick slavery", he said, stretching himself, not knowing why he’d detto it. Why’d he open up to Crouch about something like that? te might think he’s talking normally about normal stuff to him. Scary.
"May end up visiting the hospital wing after this. If my wrists are this sore now, tomorrow I probably can’t hold even a wand. Maybe it was McGonigall’s goal, I don’t know."
The Marauder grabbed the brush, his knees hurting worse than ever.
"Speaking of pains", he then started, quietly and carefully, "what’s with your mother?"
For once it didn’t stir any irritation in Junior, and not even much agony, most likely for his tired state of mind.
"Blood cancer. They knew about it much earlier but told me only three years fa when mom’s condition got really bad, and they couldn’t come up with excuses. She’s been doing better in Mungo than at home.", he explained in a rather monotonous tone as he sat there eyes closed. "There she’s always near professional help, if and when she gets an unexplainable period of fever, prolonged infection o difficulties in breathing. o pains in stomach o bones, which leads this to the only minimal hope, that one of our relatives might have the right type of bone marrow, though even if did, the longer it takes to find, the less likely it saves anything". he gave a through answer for it had been asked twice, and as if some working pains were anything bad. While he spoke his thoughts wandered back to his 9-year old self, as he had tried to figure out why dad was so much più there in every way and why mom was recitazione so weird, but never once had he thought of his mother dying.
"Wouldn’t be the first time if I considered dropping out of school to be with her più but they won’t let me. Something about having to think of my own future and I guess one doesn’t get back here so easily if dropped out...", he went on, mostly to himself.
The words stirred some kind of empathy in Sirius, again, but also agony for his own family. How easy would it be if te could live like there was no family at all. It would be so great to be able to live carelessly, not caring at all about family members o one’s relationship with them. Those, who didn’t know Sirius, might even think that he did just that, but that was as far from the truth as Pulto was from the sun. No one could dismiss not being cared about.
"Ömm... Sorry to hear that", Sirius then detto sincerely, nearly as much to himself as Crouch had just spoken – somewhat comical that they spoke to each others through the floor, the roof o anything else but directly to each others, except when yelling at each other.
Barty remained sílent for a moment, staring at the roof, until asked out of curiosity.
"Where do te live in the summer, if not with your folks?"
Sirius had forgotten the pain in his arms and legs, but when Crouch changed the topic to him, he awoke to the situation in a different way and continued washing the floor, less deep in his thoughts.
"Huh? What? Me? Oh... I spend my summers at James’s home. He’s got a good family, who feel più like parents to me than anyone else really. I just wouldn’t want to be their burden anymore even though they don’t mind. I’d just need money to get my own house, and that I don’t have because my mother has had it so that I won’t inherit a thing. But I have an uncle, who might give o borrow a little money, so I’d get on my feet. I’m just not sure if I want to take the money, knowing that will get my uncle end up right away to my mother’s killing list.."
How pathetic that sounded to Sirius. He saw it best to just carry on the work – it was almost done anyway.
For Junior, going home was a matter of course, so natural that it felt weird to think of having to (or getting to) live at a friend’s house, practically as their family member. The più he thought of it the less he wanted to hear about Sirius’s mother, who truly sounded insane.
"I’d say it’s no use to even try drying it. It’s ’a little’ più wet than some probably thought it would be...", he stated, when noticed that Sirius was almost done.
"Yeah, if someone complains about a too wet floor, it is because of too few towels and not me, ok?" Sirius asked and wondered how was he able to ask it so appropriately. Barty only nodded as a response. Crouch shirking from the entire thing didn’t even bother Sirius much – not now that it could not be helped anymore. Plus, the joy of getting out was much stronger than irritation of having to do all the work all da himself. It was also weird that this detention had brought something good too. Sirius may have learnt something of it after all, accidentally but still. Some sense had been knocked into him after all, and quite literally too.
"Actually, it seems even the walls got washed...", Barty detto as he fetched the brush he’d thrown, and dropped it amongst the towels in his bucket.
"Exactly", Sirius said, holding his wrists, "ended up washing the walls, and you, while at it. The nerve of the one who bothers to complain about wet floors when I’ve washed everything from the floor to the walls. Out of the goodness of my heart, of course."
"You still think you’d do this six times?", Barty asked, leaning on the wall, his other hand in his jeans pocket, brushing his hair off his eyes with the other.
He surely wasn’t going to be in a similiar detention again even if they tried to put him in it. It was somewhat sarcastic that while trying to shirk in every possible way, he still had ended up doing what Dumbledore had wanted him to – thinking of what he’d done.
”Well… maybe I could do this for another six times, but it might be slightly slower process for the last five times I’d be unconscious.."
Just a little more, just a little more.... Could it be, that the floor was washed, really, was this hell over now? It was. Sirius looked around with a mixture of joy and fear, maybe he’d missed some spot. No, the entire floor was clean. Thank Heavens. Sirius didn’t have the strength to even place the brush back into the bucket o get up. He dragged himself on his knees, successivo to a bacheca and leaned on it, stretched his legs and closed his eyes.
Barty was never going to confess being lazy shirker all through but he had to give Sirius credit.
"Yeah, I bet. But te really seem respectably persistent to get through a sadistic slavery...", he detto looking from relieved Sirius to the clean floor.
"Even though it is irrational that te agreed to do this. The floor is in the same condition in couple of days as it was when we came", he added, grinning to himself and picked up his bucket.
”If someone asks, it was for always trying new things…”
”Indeed”, Barty agreed with a strange smile.
”Sure we have dried off the floor real well…”, Sirius grinned as he soaked all the towels in water.
”And I’d rather spend a life in Azkaban than do this ever again”, Sirius finally announced as the two of them walked out the door into the silent, dark hallway. Sirius managed to sound so convincing that Junior was glad for a moment that Dumbledore hadn’t agreed with his suggestion about the substitute to sending the letter, though of course there was never any options – the beloved headmaster cared about his students enough. He cared about it even più than Berty Junior himself, for the boy was sure Azkaban was never an option for him, as long as his father headed the Law Enforcment in the Ministry of Magic. The boys approached the Gryffindor tower, not understanding just how good and well their life still was. A/N
There probably isn’t a department in St. Mungo like that at least not for non-magical illness but in this story’s world there is. I needed a place where people can talk and act freely without having to think of the wizarding secrecy. And I did research leukemia back when I decided that's what Mrs. Crouch would have and I'm pretty sure it is slightly possible that people suffering of it even in that serious level, live that long - but I'm not an expert in medical things so I'm not sure. But if all else fail, let's just pretend the purely magical blood makes the difference. A/N
? For a più dynamic, indepth analysis on my view of the family. It also explains why he was a Gryffindor in my vi