Chapter Text
Chapter 1- The Letter
Barty had dealt with shit since the day he was born, given a name that wasn't entirely his own and a “legacy to uphold”. One that had existed long before he did and despite his best efforts, would live long after his bones had turned to dust.
His life began Ravenna, a shitty town in the middle of nowhere, founded by some random rich fuck when he immigrated from Italy and over to the US.
That random Rich fuck happened to be Amadeo Luell Crouch.
Then began the “legacy” of the Crouch name. First as founders, then as the shitty town turned into a slightly bigger but still shit town, now as politicians and law enforcement.
Barty Crouch Senior, second of his name, and the current chief of police for Ravenna was a star example of “what it meant to be a crouch” and Bartys dad.
Seemed the entire family had a permanent stick up their ass and desire to hold a position of power. Of course Barty couldn't oppose the appeal of influence, but not when he’d seen his own dads handling of it.
So he did what any good blood son would do and made life as difficult as possible for his entire family, hoping that by some miracle he could be the one to destroy the Crouch name once and for all.
But of course every chance he'd tried to escape ended him right back in the town. College acceptance letters from out of state suddenly vanished without trace, his name having “never been in the system”. Job applications and internships that were going great ended up with his access card malfunctioning and his phone number being blacklisted.
His crown achievement was when he’d been forced into military school to “shape him up” and it took about three weeks before he managed to escape and make the several hundred mile trek back home. He'd probably have made it too, except for the fact one of his dads buddies picked him up in his cruiser. Then again he never sent him away after that, so all in all a success.
The last grand rebellion was when he dropped out of the police academy his dad had practically applied for on his behalf. Of course the only reason he went for more than a day was on his moms request. He got straight A’s, beat several records and even earned a few “cadet of the month” awards.
Then things went down the drain- but this time it hadn't been his fault. Daddy dearest wanted him to be a cop until he refused to let the barrel rot him from the inside out.
Barty tried, and A whole investigation went on, but of course, no culprit was ever found. By the sneer on his dads face when he came home that week, they both knew.
The only positive part about fighting his dads stifling control since the day he gained sentience at the ripe old age of five, was his dad began to pick and choose his battles. He conceded that it was getting to be a problem with so many companies and organizations denying the “Crouch heir”. It was a bad look.
After the academy, it was the closest Barty had ever gotten to actually shaking the Crouch reputation, albeit accidentally. Of course like any other “scandal” it wasn't long before people moved on.
Maybe his dad felt a bit guilty- that's the only reason he could understand why his dad came to him with a deal.
Barty would do a summer internship and in exchange, he would be “permitted” to attend college, in state of course. He asked what the catch was, but his Dad assured there was none- and insisted he could “pull strings” and get Barty whatever he wanted.
Well what he wanted was to disappear with a few thousand to his name and mooch off Regulus' new apartment until his dad declared him dead. But despite his nature, he wasn't one to kick a gift horse in the mouth.
He was twenty and sooner or later, reputation aside, his dad would rather deal with the fallout of disowning his one and only son than keep dealing with him. Sure he was confident Regulus would have his back (despite never admitting it) but he hoped it didn't come to that.
Bartys thumb graced the perforated edge of yet another brochure to some geriatric health clinic, apparently his dad had bailed the owner out of some bad gambling debt. Explained why Barty always went there for checkups as a kid.
He tossed the paper to the side, barely missing the trash can besides his desk. But he missed, and in the process accidently knocked over several other papers into the trash.
God- would his dad really be that mad if he just set all the papers on fire? Wouldn't be the first time- and he already saw the fire department brochure.
One paper caught his eye, it wasn't bone chillingly “corporate” the paper even looked a bit uneven as if it had been hand cut. He picked up the cream paper, no bold lettering or photographs.
Just a simple rose design etched out in ink that also looked hand drawn, and a small cursive signature on the bottom.
“Rosier Family Mortuary and Funeral Home”
Inside was a very simple letter, explaining the business and the request for an assistant/intern over the summer. There was even a small joke that looked to be crossed out “It always seems more people die over the summer”.
Barty grabbed his phone, fumbling slightly with the small star charm hanging off the bottom. He saw several “read” texts and without any warning pressed the call button.
[ DO NOT DISTURB IS ACTIVE- DO YOU WISH TO PUSH NOTIFICATION THROUGH?]
[YES]
[NO]
[SET REMINDER FOR..]
It was only- oh shit it was 2 am, but he'd already pressed the yes so- all he could do was hope his bestie was in a good mood.
The phone rang-
And rang-
And rang.
On the fourth full cycle it stopped, Barty prepared to sit through the overly formal voicemail set up.
“You better be kicked out and sitting like a pathetic dog in the rain or dying- What do you want”? Regulus' voice hissed over the screen.
Yup- definitely pissed, but at the very least he couldn't make him MORE pissed. Might as well ask what he needed.
“Nah i’m fine- appreciate the concern though” Barty said, “You know the Rosiers”?
Silence- then the shifting of sheets and distinct click of a light.
“Why on earth are you asking me”?
“Well my fine effeminate friend, I found a brochure among many- and this one caught my eye” He held up the paper, as if Regulus could see through the phone.
A long drawn out sigh left his friend “The Rosier family has been in town since your however many great grandfather” They both knew Regulus knew exactly how many greats it was, but Barty was glad he opted to skim over it.
“Think they were from Egypt or something, They were doctors for a while, but once medical school became a requirement that dwindled down into mortuary stuff- now they own most of the cemeteries in town and work on anything and everything from cremations to autopsies”
Thank the stars for his best friend's weird ass family that ensured he knew everyone for “connection” reasons.
“I knew Pandora, her parents helped when my Great Uncle died from.. Circumstances” Murdered by his Great Aunt, she was crazy but you had to admit she was effective, last he knew she was in Guatemala. “She was… interesting to say the least, and Their parents are retired so now it's just the twins who run it all from what I hear”
That definitely caught Bartys attention “Wait twins”?
“Yes- now it's far too early for a history run down, if your truly that curious just go in yourself and leave me out of it”
“You want me to go visit the murder twins” Barty said in mock offense.
“They didn't murder anyone, confirmed at least,” Regulus trailed off “But i'll be in town tomorrow, so heaven forbid they find you pathetic enough to be a worthy victim- i'll be there to pay the burial fee, so goodnight”
Barty let out a small snort “Oh you do love me~”
Besides- curiosity killed the cat, and well he always thought he gave off more dog vibes he wasn't against a good murder story. End up on a dateline episode- but then again if he was dead he wouldn't get to see the documentary interview of Regulus fake bawling his eyes out.
Then again he'd also have to hear about the memorial turned charity gala event his dad would put together to “mourn his only heir”. Hell maybe he'd even get a random bench plague.
[Barty Crouch Junior II, A good son]
Because what else would they write? Hopefully someone would vandalize it, causing a community scandal and yet another uproar of “justice” for the “life taken far too soon” god he could throw up just thinking about it.
“Wait a sec, you aren't coming into town to meet up with that Pot-”
“I said goodnight.”
Regulus hung up on him.
Ha- Poor Potter, it seemed Reggie found his new prey.
Barty glanced back at the card, the phone number on the bottom staring back at him, written in heh- ‘blood red’ ink.
His desk was still covered in dozens of over “opportunities” he'd yet to even glance at. Decision still up in the air, gotta look at all his options.
…
If he gets murdered- Regulus better vandalize the fucking bench.