Fanfic - Unforgivable - Part Two

[indigoneutrino]

Title: Unforgivable
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: T
Summary: What happened in the first few hours after Bartemius Crouch Sr. broke his son out of Azkaban. Two-parter.
Warnings: Pretty dark and mentions of contemplated filicide.

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Unforgivable

Part 2 of 2

An hour and a half and two glasses of whiskey later Crouch has calmed down somewhat. The anger seems to have died down and he thinks he'll be able hold it together. He needs to go back upstairs and see Barty again. He owes it to Elizabeth: he needs to look after their son, like he promised. When he reaches the bedroom door he sees Winky sat by the bed, hovering over the frail figure of Barty Crouch Jr. Even though he appreciates what she's done, he doesn't want her here. "Winky," he says abruptly.

She turns to look at him, a nervous expression on her face.

"Leave us," he says.

She glances from his face back to Barty's, and then looks at him again, evidently worried about leaving Barty alone with him. "Master…"

"Leave," Crouch repeats.

Winky bows her head. "Yes, Master," she squeaks, and hurries out of the room.

Crouch closes the door behind her and then crosses over to the bed to look at his son. He lets out a heavy sigh as he realises the boy is sleeping, and sinks down in the chair beside the bed. He finds it strange how Barty can look so innocent like this, so vulnerable…it's hard to believe that this was the same man who helped torture two human beings into insanity.

The anger has faded now and Crouch is grateful for it. He isn't struggling to remain in control anymore, but instead there's an aching sadness that's come over him. He just wishes he could understand. He wishes he had a way to look into his son's mind and find out why he'd done it. What had this all been for? What could possibly have meant so much to him that he was prepared to betray his own family for it?

Crouch sighs again and leans further forward to get a better look at his son's face. He looks so gaunt in the pale light filtering in through the window from the dull grey sky: sunken eyes and hollowed out cheeks, almost like a corpse. If it weren't for the shuddering movement of the boy's chest rising and falling slowly Crouch could well believe he was already dead. This was what Azkaban had done to him.

And Crouch had sent him there, like he'd sent so many other people. He'd always firmly believed that there hadn't been a man he'd sent down who hadn't thoroughly deserved it, but now seeing the result of being locked up with the Dementors close up he was beginning to wonder. Maybe a death sentence would have been kinder. He was certain his son was guilty, but he wished there could have been a way of having this over with quickly. He would have been dead after a few more weeks inside anyway, maybe it would have been better to spare him all this suffering…

Even as that train of thought begins to fill his head Crouch abruptly halts it. He knows Elizabeth wouldn't have been able to bear it: it would have killed her too. True, what had happened was going to kill her anyway, but maybe there was something good to come of this. Elizabeth had been dying anyway, and her dying wish had been that her son could live. He was at least able to give her that. Even amid his bouts of fury and urges to kill the boy in retribution Crouch knows he could never do it. He owes it to Elizabeth. He has to keep his son's heart beating for as long as possible, because Bartemius Crouch Jr is not going to have the luxury of dying at home with his father by his bedside while his mother suffers and dies alone in a cell in Azkaban. Even if he feels no remorse for anything else he's done, the boy is damn well going to live to face up to the fact that he's killed his own mother. It was his fault. And Crouch hopes he'll suffer for it.

Suddenly, Barty mutters something in his sleep and begins to toss and turn. Crouch realises he's dreaming: the kind of dreams brought on by Dementors. Barty seems to be fighting with the bed covers to break free but is too weak to manage, and his distressed shouting gets louder. Crouch is reminded of when Barty was six and used to get nightmares. He'd refused to go to sleep unless either his mother or father were watching over him, and Crouch can't help but think back to that now. Despite everything that's happened since, a faint echo of the fatherly tenderness he'd shown back then tries to manifest itself. He reaches out a hand to Barty's shoulder and gently but firmly pushes him back down on the bed, trying to keep him still. As Barty realises he's no longer able to move his eyes snap open and he looks directly at his father, suddenly becoming very still.

Crouch meets his son's gaze and is surprised to see the hatred that filled them earlier has vanished. In its place is a look of fear and anguish, and Crouch isn't quite sure what to do. He takes his hand away from Barty's shoulder and leans back in his chair, never breaking eye contact.

Barty tries to speak, but the effort it takes him is obvious as the words are dragged from his hoarse throat. "I didn't do it, father."

His tone is neither earnest nor desperate, just dead. For the first time since the trial Crouch feels a flicker of doubt about his son's guilt, but he quickly silences it. If Barty is innocent then Crouch is the one to blame for everything that's happened, and no matter how much of a coward it may make him he knows he can't handle that guilt. Better to believe that Barty is guilty and deserves this punishment, and even if it isn't true it makes no difference now.

Crouch chooses not to respond. He has nothing to say to the boy.

Barty watches him, waiting, and the longer the silence drags out the more irritated and resentful his expression becomes. "What do you want, a thank you?" he says bitterly, his voice sounding strangled and childish.

Crouch thinks that sentence ought to anger him, but strangely it doesn't. He knows Barty wants him to react, but he won't give him the satisfaction. Barty isn't worth getting riled over and Crouch doesn't care whether the boy's grateful or not: he did this for Elizabeth, not for him.

When once again he doesn't get a response Barty begins to cry. It's silent at first, the tears simply rolling down his cheeks, but then he begins to sob and shake in the bed and Crouch doesn't know what to do. He knows he shouldn't feel any pity: the boy committed an abhorrent crimeand he deserves to suffer, but at the same time the noise is tearing at Crouch's heart because breaking down in tears is exactly what he wants to do right now but he knows he has to hold it all together. He tries his best not to react and simply looks on, seemingly unmoved, while his son cries.

Eventually, the tears die down and the pair of them are left staring at each other again. Again, Barty speaks, seemingly desperate to get some kind of reaction from his father. His tone seems more pleading and child-like than ever. "I want mother."

And that's what finally breaks him. Even though he knows he has every right to get angry, to make his son feel guilty and blame him for what happened, that sentence was just so pathetic Crouch can't bring himself to do it. Instead, it's now his turn for the tears to begin to flow as he thinks of Elizabeth and realises that he's never going to see her again.

He reaches out for Barty's bony hand that's resting on the bed covers and takes it in his own: not because he cares about the boy, but because he knows this is all of Elizabeth that he has left now. "So do I."

He feels Barty meekly try and grip onto his hand tighter, and even though he isn't doing it for the boy he doesn't try and pull away. When their eyes meet again Crouch at last sees something in Barty's gaze that makes his heart soften slightly: genuine remorse and regret. It really seems for a moment that Barty seems to be silently trying to say sorry, but then his eyes close again and his grip on Crouch's hand slackens, and Crouch realises he's gone back to sleep.

Crouch pulls his hand away from his son's and stands up. Despite that strange feeling that had come over him in the past few seconds he still knows it makes no difference. It doesn't matter how sorry Barty is: he deserves all the punishment he gets. He'd be getting no pity from his father. What he did was unforgivable.

And with that thought fixed firmly in his mind, Bartemius Crouch Sr. turns away from his son and strides out of the room.