BARTY CROUCH JUNIOR

Barty had decided to like Fridays. Mainly because it was the last day before the weekend. However, he did not like the double Transfiguration lesson with Professor McGonagall at all. Even though she wasn't as bad as their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Barty found himself disliking him more with each passing class, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. The best thing about Transfiguration was that they didn't have any lessons after it until lunch. That was also why Regulus had woken him up for the second time that day – Barty had used the two hours to catch up on sleep.

Now he and Regulus were sitting at lunch. Pandora wasn't with them for a change; she had spent almost every meal with them the past week, given that her friend Nott was increasingly spending time with Avery and his friends. Barty found her presence quite pleasant; even though he understood and respected that Regulus needed his peace, it was nice to have someone to talk to during meals. Just a few days ago, they'd had a discussion about whether it was morally acceptable to use ghosts as spies. Although, technically, it wasn't a discussion – they simply exchanged knowledge about ghosts they knew and debated whether being a spy was practical for a ghost or not. In the end, they both agreed that neither Peeves nor the Bloody Baron would ever make capable spies.

Regulus rarely joined their conversations, at least not when they were in the Great Hall or the corridors. Pandora had come up to their dormitory a few times in the past days to continue their conversations, as the common room was usually too crowded. Once in their own space, Regulus visibly relaxed and occasionally contributed comments to their discussions.

Regulus bid farewell with a brief nod before heading down the corridor toward his Arithmancy class. Barty, on the other hand, made his way to the grounds for Care of Magical Creatures, one of the few subjects he genuinely enjoyed. The main reason was probably that the class rarely took place in a stuffy classroom. Today was no exception: they were to meet outside, specifically at Hogwarts' so-called Stone Circle.

However, Barty thought the term "circle" was generous. The arrangement of stones was neither regular nor symmetrical, and every time he dared to point out this irregularity, Professor Kettleburn would launch into an endless lecture about "the beauty of circles that aren't circles." Internally, Barty shook his head at the thought. He definitely didn't need another monologue, especially since the professor constantly repeated himself, and Barty still had no idea what he meant.

When he finally arrived at the stone circle, most of the students were already there. The sky was clear, and the sun shone warmly through the branches of the tree under which Barty settled. He let his head rest against the trunk and closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the calm before the lesson.

"Hey, Barty!" Pandora Lestrange plopped down beside him with her usual energy, followed by Priscilla Nott, who gave him an unfriendly glance. Priscilla didn't seem to have developed any more sympathy for him over the summer than in previous years.

"You don't seem particularly thrilled by company, Priscilla," he said dryly, barely suppressing a grin.

"I'm thrilled by company. Just not yours, Crouch," she retorted, her tone only half-joking.

Pandora giggled as she began rummaging through her bag for something edible. "Barty, why do you think Kettleburn is late this time?"

"Good question," Barty murmured, letting his gaze sweep over the small group of students scattered around the stone circle. It was a manageable class, only nine students: four from Slytherin – himself, Pandora, Priscilla, and Evan Rosier – as well as Olivia Clarke and Jamie Winters from Gryffindor, Cora Mason from Ravenclaw, and the two Hufflepuffs, Alice Fortescue and Caleb Miles.

The small class size at least had the advantage that Barty could easily remember everyone's names – unlike Professor Kettleburn , who, even after months, still had trouble telling them apart.

The sun was now high in the sky, but there was still no sign of their professor. Barty snorted quietly.

"Maybe he was overrun by a Streeler," Pandora suggested with a grin as she tossed an apple into the air.

"Or a Hippogriff finally had enough of his lectures," Barty countered, catching the apple before Pandora could toss it again.

"Or," Pandora said with newfound enthusiasm, "he fell asleep in the library again after spending half the night working on his 'groundbreaking discoveries' about magical circles."

"Not unlikely," Barty admitted, handing the apple back to her.

By now, the last few students had arrived. Rosier strolled over with his typical smug demeanor, while Alice Fortescue and Caleb Miles chatted quietly with each other. Alice laughed at something Caleb said, and for a moment, Barty's gaze lingered on her. Her laugh was contagious, even from a distance. He didn't know her well; they had only spoken a few times during Care of Magical Creatures last year. Still, the fact that she was consistently friendly to him and didn't outright refuse to talk to him was remarkable. Barty wished he knew why. However, he quickly looked away when Pandora asked him something.

"What do you think – how long will he take this time?" Pandora asked again, leaning back on her elbows.

"Hmm," Barty grimaced. "I give him another five minutes; then it'll officially be record-breaking lateness."

Pandora laughed. "What do we do if he doesn't show up? You could take over the class, Barty. I bet you'd make an excellent replacement for Kettleburn ."

"Me? Never," he replied. "I refuse to engage in discussions about circles that aren't circles."

Pandora just grinned, while Priscilla continued to regard him with her usual mistrustful look. Her demeanor reminded him of Regulus – the same cool, aloof manner that was only rarely broken. But unlike Regulus, Barty was certain Priscilla's dislike of him was entirely genuine.

Minutes passed, and still no sign of Professor Kettleburn . The students began to grow restless, and Barty noticed how the subdued chatter around him started forming into small groups.

He let his head sink back again and watched as a bird perched on one of the crooked stones. Irregular circles, he thought. Maybe next time, he should ask for clarification on how exactly Kettleburn intended to explain this theory.

Just then, Professor Kettleburn finally arrived, right on time to save himself from being declared officially absent. His arrival was, as always, something to behold.

With a mix of hurried steps and stumbling movements, he approached the stone circle, his arms laden with buckets from which various gardening tools protruded. His disheveled cloak flapped in the wind, and the slightly crooked glasses on his nose wobbled precariously with every step.
"Sorry, sorry! I had a little... uh... logistical challenge to deal with," called Kesselbrand as he carefully set the buckets down. His voice, as always, was a touch too enthusiastic for the situation, and he ignored the puzzled looks of his students.

Pandora was the first to recover from her surprise. "Professor, what are we doing today? Starting a garden?"
"Haha, very funny, Miss Lestrange," Kesselbrand replied with a crooked smile. "Today, we will—or rather, you will—be digging up Bloodroot," the professor said enthusiastically. Barty, however, was far from thrilled.
"But Professor! Bloodroot is highly poisonous. Touching its leaves alone causes severe burns," Fortescue interjected.
"Quite right. Do you also know how to identify a Bloodroot?"
"By the reddish roots visible beneath the ground, Professor."
The professor clapped his hands. "Very good! Five points for Hufflepuff." Then, turning back to the class, he added, "That's why you'll all be wearing gloves." He held up a pair of very old-looking gloves. "Additionally, you'll work in pairs since this is still tricky work, and four eyes are better than two."

The professor moved around, handing each student two gloves and either a bucket or a spade. True to his luck, all the pairs had already formed, leaving Barty with Rosier.
"Professor, why are we doing this?" asked Cora Mason, the Ravenclaw, her curiosity evident.
"I can't tell you that just yet, my dear," replied Professor Kesselbrand with a mysterious grin.

Barty raised an eyebrow. Not yet? What was that supposed to mean?
No sooner had the professor said this than a low buzz of murmurs broke out among the students. The restless atmosphere was palpable, and Barty couldn't help but wonder what all this was about.
"But, but, patience," Kesselbrand continued, handing out the last spade. "You'll learn everything in the next lesson."

The professor suddenly paused as if something had occurred to him. He slapped his forehead. "By Merlin's underpants, I almost forgot to mention! Over the next few weeks, you'll all be part of a special group project, which you'll need to work on outside of class time as well. Professor Dumbledore said you wouldn't be up to the task, but I disagreed! The timing is perfect—and it's in the curriculum, after all."

A murmur ran through the class. Barty's interest was piqued, though he had to admit that "special group project" didn't sound particularly appealing.
"I've already assigned your groups of three, by the way," Kesselbrand went on, rummaging through his pockets. "Now, where did I put the list... Ah, here it is!"
Frustration washed over Barty immediately. Preassigned groups. That couldn't be good.
"So," Kesselbrand began, holding the list, "Group One: Winters, Nott, and Clarke. Group Two: Miles, Fortescue, and Lestrange. And Group Three: Crouch, Mason, and Rosier."

That was just the icing on the cake. Barty glanced at Rosier and saw that he had the same idea. Being in a group together was the last thing either of them wanted. Yet, despite his annoyance, Barty's curiosity grew. Kesselbrand's cryptic hint that they wouldn't know yet what it was about nagged at him. What were they digging up? And why was the professor so excited about this mysterious task?

"Excellent!" Kesselbrand declared, gesturing so exuberantly that he nearly knocked over a bucket. "You can coordinate with your groups later. But first, let's tackle the Bloodroot! Now, get to work!"

The students began working reluctantly. Barty grabbed a bucket and eyed Rosier, who was slipping on the gloves.
"You dig; I'll hold the bucket," Barty suggested, hoping to avoid the more unpleasant part of the job.
Rosier snorted and gave him a blank look. "You'll hold the bucket? How generous. Should I build you a throne while I'm at it?"
"If it improves your performance, why not?" Barty shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Rosier shook his head with a grin, kneeling beside a promising patch of soil. With a resigned sigh, he began loosening the earth around the plant. The Bloodroot looked unremarkable, but the reddish veins running through its dark green leaves betrayed its toxicity.
"Careful not to touch the leaves," Barty warned, holding the bucket nearby. His tone was almost casual, but there was a hint of amusement.
"Oh, thanks for the tip, Professor Crouch," Rosier muttered, rolling his eyes. "I thought I was supposed to rub them directly on your face."

Barty smirked, leaning casually against a tree. "Just making sure you don't embarrass yourself. I've got my reputation to think about."
Rosier paused, glancing up at him. "Your reputation? As a walking textbook or as an unrivaled nuisance?"
"Both," Barty replied dryly.

A reluctant laugh escaped Rosier as he continued working. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
"So I've been told," said Barty, casually swinging the bucket. "At least I'm entertaining."

Eventually, Rosier unearthed the first Bloodroot, carefully extracting it by its roots. Triumphantly, he held it up.
"Now what? Should I put it in the bucket for you, or would you like to contribute at least some effort?"
"Easy," Barty said, holding out the bucket. "I wouldn't want to overwork you."

Despite their initial bickering, the two quickly found a rhythm. Rosier skillfully loosened the soil while Barty placed the plants into the bucket with precision.
"Honestly, this is more fun than I expected," Barty admitted after a while, stretching his back.
"Maybe because I'm doing all the work," Rosier joked, raising his spade and looking expectantly at Barty.
"Hm," Barty replied, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "At least I'm good at supervising."
"Wow, was that a compliment, Crouch?" Rosier asked with mock astonishment. Barty just rolled his eyes but didn't respond.

By the time they unearthed their fourth Bloodroot, the mood between them had become almost friendly. They chatted about trivial things, laughed at the grumbles of other students who hadn't managed to find any Bloodroot, and for a moment, they worked like a well-oiled team.
"You know, Crouch," Evan said as he placed the last Bloodroot into the bucket, "maybe you're not as bad as I initially thought."
"A compliment from you? That must have taken considerable effort, Rosier," Barty replied, grinning. Rosier rolled his eyes, muttering something in French that Barty didn't understand.
"But don't worry; I'm sure we'll find a way to argue again soon."
"I'll bet on it," Evan said as they carried their bucket to the collection point.

On the way to their next class—Herbology—Barty and Evan continued joking and teasing each other as if their initial hostility had never existed. They traded sharp comments, laughed at the other students' struggles, and for a moment, everything felt surprisingly light.
"What do you think Kesselbrand's secret project is about?" Evan asked as they climbed the stone steps to the greenhouse.
Barty shrugged, a mischievous smile on his lips. "No idea. But you're welcome to help me find out."
Evan raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. "What exactly do you mean? Breaking in and snooping through his files?"
"As exciting as that sounds," Barty said with a grin, "I was thinking of something less risky."

Evan stopped, half turning to face him. "Alright, enlighten me, Detective Crouch."
Barty paused briefly as if concocting a brilliant plan before answering, "The simplest approach is to flip through our textbook. Kesselbrand said it's in the curriculum, so theoretically, it should be in there."
"Riveting," Evan interjected dryly.
"Let me finish, Rosier," Barty continued undeterred. "We should also research everything we can about Bloodroot. The professor didn't say so explicitly, but I'm pretty sure those plants are connected to the project. Why else would we be digging them up?"
Evan snorted lightly, his skeptical gaze giving way to a crooked smile. "Okay, I see your point. But that sounds like a lot of work. Since when are you so diligent?"
Barty grinned. "It's called efficiency. The sooner we figure it out, the better we can prepare, and the quicker we're done. Or are you worried it's too much for you to handle?"
"Worried? Me?" Evan laughed mockingly, crossing his arms. "In your dreams. I'm just curious if you'll get lost in your grand plan."
"You'll see," Barty said confidently as they entered the greenhouse.

Inside, they were greeted by the warm, humid air, which smelled of damp moss and soil. Professor Applebee was already waiting for the students, a tray of strange, overgrown plants before her. But Barty and Evan were still engrossed in their conversation.
"Alright," Evan finally said as they took seats next to each other. "We check the textbook, look up Bloodroot... and then?"
Barty leaned back with a grin. "Then maybe we hit the library. But one step at a time, Rosier. I don't want to overwhelm you."
Evan glared at him with mock annoyance but couldn't hide a smirk. "Don't get too cocky, Crouch. I've handled far bigger challenges."
"We'll see," Barty said as more students filed in. Most of them had a short walk, while those from Arithmancy had to trek halfway across Hogwarts.

Fuck.

Barty's gaze snapped to the doorway, where Regulus stood, glaring at him darkly. The expression on his face was icy, so cold that Barty involuntarily swallowed. He could practically feel the disdain in Regulus's stare—a silent accusation that cut like a knife.

How could he have been so stupid?

The realization hit him like a blow: Regulus despised Rosier just as much as he once had. It had been an unspoken bond between them, a silent agreement to avoid Rosier. And now, Rosier sat in the seat that had always been reserved for Regulus. The seat where they normally whispered, schemed, or simply sat quietly together.

Barty had been so engrossed in his conversation with Rosier that he'd completely forgotten about Regulus. How could he have let that happen?

Regulus still stood there, his lips pressed into a thin line, his posture tense. The room seemed to cool around him, the tension he exuded palpable. Barty opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no sound came out.

Pandora, clearly noticing the situation, waved Regulus over. "Over here, Regulus," she said in her usual cheerful tone, though it did little to diffuse the underlying conflict.

Regulus shot Barty one last, scathing look before striding over, his shoulders squared. Priscilla Nott, who also seemed to sense the unspoken hostility, stood and switched seats with Avery without a word. She briefly glanced at Barty, her gaze carrying a subtle air of judgment, as though reaffirming whatever negative opinion she had of him.

"What's his problem?" Rosier asked quietly beside him.

Barty didn't turn his head, his eyes still fixed on Regulus, who now sat stiffly next to Pandora. It felt strange to see Regulus so far away—and worse, to know it was his own fault.
"Nothing," Barty muttered finally, not looking at Rosier. But the words felt hollow. Regulus wouldn't forgive this easily, if at all. Barty could already anticipate being ignored for days.

Fuck.