Barty grinned manically at the sight of his dear old Dad lying stiff on the bed. The draught the Dark Lord had fed Barty Crouch Senior would keep the old man comatose but alive. Barty had wanted to kill him but the Dark Lord had said no; Dad was much more useful alive than dead especially with the Tri-Wizard Tournament they had learned about from Jorkins. The Dark Lord had wanted to send his father back to the Ministry under an Imperius curse but Barty had argued that his father might be capable of breaking free – hadn't he broken free of his father's on occasion? So, the potion had been used and Dad would sleep…at least until someone pure of heart kissed him.
Barty giggled at the thought. No-one knew his father was missing; no-one was going to come looking for him; certainly no-one pure of heart. They'd sent an owl to the Ministry saying Barty had Wizard's flu and had been confined to the house. His father's new assistant, Percy Weasley, had offered by return owl to keep things running smoothly and, even better, to send regular progress reports. They had to put up with Weasley's brown-nosing simpering with each missive (and each one turned Barty's stomach with its nauseating flattery of his father) but it was worth it. The ruse was working perfectly. They were fully informed about the Quidditch World Cup, fully informed about the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the Dark Lord was pleased and making plans of plans of plans…
Barty grinned again.
Barty would have a role to play, an important role. Someone was going to have to impersonate his father eventually and who better for the job than himself, his father's son? The Polyjuice potion would be ready soon enough with the Dark Lord's tutelage on improving the standard recipe to enable it to brew faster and in greater quantity, to last longer and duplicate his father's voice and not just his appearance.
"Ah, Father," Barty taunted as he dragged the chair over to the bed and sat down, "it's been so long since we've talked."
His father had ignored him for the most part except on the anniversary of his mother's death and Yule. The former would involve a lecture on how much of a disappointment Barty had been to his mother (which was so not true – his mother had died in Azkaban because she believed in him), and the latter would involve a lecture on how much of a naughty boy Barty had been and a single present of getting to spend the day in the main part of the house leashed to Winky like he was three years old.
"The Dark Lord is away with Pettigrew doing something important for his plan, gaining his vengeance on his dead father," Barty murmured, "and as it is only you and I for the first time since they arrived, I thought we should talk. Well, I will talk and you will listen."
His mind was finally fully clear of the fog that his father's Imperius curses had left behind. He had devoured the newspapers, the old ones that Winky had stacked away for recycling; the new ones that were delivered every day.
He had read of Black's innocence and how he had gained custody of Potter. He had read of Black's first Wizengamot session and the death of the LeStranges…
Rabastan.
Barty felt his grief stir again. He had been so in love with Rabastan, the dark haired handsome man who had loved him and cherished him. The LeStrange home had been a haven for him; a sanctuary of acceptance away from his father's exacting and never-met standards. Bella had mothered him and Rodolphus had provided big brotherly advice when Barty had floundered. And Rabastan…
"I loved him beyond measure," Barty said out loud, "I loved him more than anything, I would have done anything for him including bowing to the Dark Lord and taking his Mark, and I did." He laughed harshly. "It wasn't so bad, you know. I mean, I didn't believe half of it, didn't care in truth because what did it matter to me if the Dark Lord wanted to kill all the muggles and muggleborns? Who cares truly? Not you. You just wanted power and control. Like you controlled Mummy. Like you tried to control me."
His father had made his mother's life a torment. His mother had been a kind, gentle soul. His father had dictated every aspect of her life from her dress to her manners, from her friends to where she went and for how long. Everything had to be in its place just as dear old Dad wanted it, or there would be harsh words that tore at her self-confidence and had her weeping while her husband ignored her.
Barty had grown up hating his father for how he'd treated his mother.
And yet just like his mother there had been a part of Barty that had desperately wanted his approval. He'd worked so hard at Hogwarts to sort into the right house, to do well in his studies, to excel in every magical way so that his father had no complaints – and yet, there had been no praise or approval at the end of each year just questions why he'd gotten less than Outstanding for Care of Magical Creatures or why hadn't he made Seeker for the Quidditch team instead of the Chaser position he had excelled in, or why hadn't he been considered for Head Boy and was just a lowly prefect. Nothing had ever been good enough.
"I wonder what was worse for you, Father dearest," Barty wondered, "was it finding out that I was a Death Eater or that Rabastan and I were lovers? I rather think it was the latter."
He knew his father would never approve. In his fifth year he had kissed Regulus Black on a dare and they had briefly conducted a secret affair, thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. It had been Regulus who had introduced him to Rabastan.
And Rabastan had loved him utterly and devotedly, just as he had loved Rabastan. They'd planned to be properly bonded, and Bella had even offered to carry a child for them who would become the LeStrange heir as Rodolphus was infertile thanks to a dark curse. They'd had so many plans and they had all come undone in one terrifying night.
"Bella and Roldophus were so distraught when the Dark Lord disappeared," Barty said to his unhearing father, "they desperately wanted to find out what had happened. They didn't believe you see that he was gone. Well, the Potters were dead but I knew that Alice and Lily had always been close. We just wanted to find out what had happened; where the Potter boy was."
Only the Longbottoms hadn't known anything and Bella and Rodolphus had taken their anger and frustration out on the pair while Rab had left off torturing them to join Barty in playing with the baby. They'd joked that it was practice for their own child but then…
Aurors had arrived and there was a battle and at the end of it, Barty had found himself in a cell at the Ministry awaiting his trial.
"I didn't torture them. You never believed me, Father, but I didn't. I kept the boy safe but was I thanked or rewarded? No." Barty sighed. "The only thing I did was lead them there and help them get through the wards."
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