Chapter Text
Evan Rosier is dead. Evan Rosier is alive. Evan Rosier is in the space in-between, in limbo. He's stuck. And he's lost.
Evan isn't dead. He's right here, Barty can see him. Why won't they listen. He's here, he's alive, he's holding Barty's hands. But they go right through, as he screams and yells. Corporeal.
Evan holds him close and smooths his matted hair.
"Trust me."
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Bartemius Crouch Jr is eleven years old and his eyes are wide and his arms are bruised. His father holds a too tight grip with his fingers as he bids Bartemius goodbye.
"Be good, be safe, and if you put one toe out of line, you'll regret it. Do you hear me?"
Bartemius manages a small nod. He supposes that this meagre farewell is better than what he might have gotten. At least his father came. But probably only for appearances. His mother is beside him as well, slow tears leaking down her cheeks. She always cries. Whenever something happens, she always cries. But Bartemius loves her, loves her more than she could ever know. Loves her more than the filth he is forced to call father.
The train whistle blows and his father releases the death grip on his arm. Bartemius can already feel the fresh bruises accompanying the faded ones. He grimaces as his mother pulls him in for one last hug and clutches his new suitcase in both hands. The station is extremely crowded now and parents wave teary goodbyes to their children. Bartemius' father isn't waving. He didn't expect anything more.
Students mill around him and shouts of laughter tear through the tight corridor of the scarlet train. Bartemius' sharp elbows are perfect for this sort of thing. He is followed by a chorus of annoyed yells from people being struck with a skinny elbow in the ribs.
There is only one carriage spare. It houses two occupants, a boy with dark hair and watercolour eyes and a girl with black hair reaching down to her waist and dark skin that seems to shine.
He is staring out the window, and doesn't notice Bartemius when he struggles through the door. The girl gives him a wide smile.
"Mind if I sit?"
The boy inclines his head and nods, before staring out the window once more. Bartemius privately thinks he is batty, and a bit mopey, but he doesn't say a word, merely reaching up to place his trunk on the luggage rack. Whilst he's doing so, the door crashes open again and two people spill in. Their caramel skin and blonde locs, coupled with long noses and dark eyes, make Bartemius freeze in his laborious task.
Twins.
Seeing two people so unnervingly identical is chilling. The only difference between them is the fact that one is a girl and the other a boy.
They both stand up tall, and the boy is slightly taller. Taller than Bartemius is. And his locs are shorter, just reaching his neck, whilst the girl's are long and dirty. Bleached blonde, both of them, with the girls' hair being pink and green at the ends. The boy has freckles, Bartemius can see even from here. Dark freckles that dot his coffee skin.
Bartemius wishes he had freckles.
"Can we join?" the girl says and her voice is melodic and light. Airy sounding, like a fairy or a nymph. "All the other carriages are packed, or full of older students."
The boy at the window turns his head again and surveys the pair. They seem to pass some sort of test, because he nods once more and tears his gaze away from the window. The girl with the dark skin jumps up to help the twins put their luggage on the rack and immediately starts a conversation. There is a sudden jerk as the train rolls into motion and Bartemius scrambles to the window to get a last glimpse of his mother. His father is there too, and as the train leaves, he turns his back. Bartemius sticks his torso out the top window and flips him off.
There is a snort of laughter and the blonde boy is smiling. His canine teeth are pointy, like a bat, Bartemius notices.
"I'm Pandora." the girl says. "Pandora Rosier and this is my brother Evan."
Evan Rosier.
A pretty name, Bartemius supposes. Evan. It suits him.
"Dorcas, and this is Regulus." says the other girl, who gestures to herself and to the window boy. The window boy stares at Bartemius now, expecting something.
He doesn't want to tell them his stupid name. It's an awful name, it's weird and, to make matters worse, it's his fathers name. Seemingly sensing that Bartemius wouldn't introduce himself, Regulus the window boy directs his attention instead to Pandora and Dorcas, who are swapping beaded bracelets and golden necklaces as if they had been friends for years. Evan, pretty Evan, sits beside Bartemius and offers out a slender hand.
Bartemius hates that he's taller than him. And he thought he was lanky. Well, he supposes, he's only eleven. He's still got a lot of growing to do.
"What's your name?" Evan asks.
Bartemius scowls. He hates this boy now. Asking about his name. Stupid.
"I don't like it. It's a stupid name."
"So?"
"So I'm not gonna fucking tell you, am I?"
Evan just smiles, his pointed canines peeking out from between his lips.
"Language," he scoffs. "Surely it's not that bad."
Bartemius looks at him, and suddenly he is hit with an odd sense of trust. Evan won't make fun of his name. He's sure of it. Or as sure as he can be.
"Promise you won't laugh?"
"I solemnly swear."
Bartemius leans close and whispers his name into the ear of the other boy. And as he draws back, Evan isn't laughing. He's nodding.
"I've heard worse names, trust me. And anyway, that's just what you're called at home. We'll think of a nickname, shall we?"
"So what's your name then?" calls Dorcas, as she and Pandora halt in their feverish chatter.
"His name is Barty." Evan says after a pause. Regulus nods slowly.
"Barty." he muses. Dorcas makes a spluttering sound.
"You can speak! You said something that wasn't your name! You filthy liar, you let me sit in silence with you for ages until Barty showed up!"
Bartemius isn't listening. Well, not Bartemius any more.
He mentally crosses out his name in his head and rewrites it. Barty Crouch Jr. He could work with that.