b k CROUCH jr.

[barty]

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: Oreo.
Gender: XX.
Age: Sixteen years.
E-mail: [e-mail]
Twitter: Nope.
Years of RPG Experience: About five years.
Other: [Removed by Staff]

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{ Q U I C K . Q U I Z }

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{ A B O U T . T H E . C H A R A C T E R }

Name: Bartemius Kharon Crouch Jr.
Age: Seventeen years.
Gender: Male.
Year: Seventh.
Face Claim: Heath Ledger.

Canon or Original? Canon.

Facial Properties:
Barty is no thing of beauty, but neither is he some old urchin. You could even go as far as calling him handsome, as many would, but others would take little notice of him. Bartemius isn’t the type of person to walk into a room and everyone turns to bask in his glorious looks, actually he’s really quite the opposite; he tries to avoid attention at all costs, so the fact that his looks bring him little attention, partly out of self-infliction, is a gift to him. Barty has a face more similar to his mother’s than his father’s, possessing more rounded and square features than his father’s thinner, triangular ones. His face is strong and broad, being square in shape before ending in his rounded chin. His lips are thin, usually pulled into a small, sneering smirk, or pencil thin with constriction in moments of turmoil and concentration. Barty’s nose above is small, short and with a rounded tip; from a profile view, the tip is slightly flattened, looking like he’d pressed against a window with his nose for an extended period of time. They say the eyes are the window to one’s soul, and perhaps this is true, perhaps it is not, but Barty’s eyes are narrow in shape, and brown in hue, while they are sunk deeply into his brow and always bordered by bags under them. They have a constantly guarded expression in them, as if he is always hiding something, and on the rare occasions when is genuinely joyous, they sparkle rather alarmingly, providing a complete contrast to their usual expression which causes his eyes to appear darker than they really are. His brow is somewhat heavy against his narrow eyes, ending at his high hair line, where his chestnut-brown locks begin; his hair is currently quite long, long enough for him to tie it back in a small ponytail which he usually does to keep it from sweeping across his face, though he sometimes just keeps it swept back. His complexion is a somewhat pallid one, with a skin tone that only really burns when exposed to sun, and is otherwise pasty, highlighting the ever-present dark circles which rim his oak-brown eyes. An important fact about Barty Crouch is that he can be deceiver as to his personality and appearance, for sometimes he can appear to be charming and debonair, wearing smart, beautiful clothing like many upper-class pureblood males, but at other times, he can look like some kind of greasy cad, with bedraggled hair and somewhat of a leering expression on his face, giving him a frighteningly wolfish quality. It all comes down to who he’s socializing with, and that is a pretty wide spectrum of people and personalities.
Physique:
For all intents and purposes, Barty should be a broad-shouldered brute, for his face does not have the fine features associated with a lean, willowy body like members of the Malfoy or Black family, but like many aspects of Bartemius Crouch Jr. not everything is what you’d expect it to be. Barty, to begin with, is a tall boy, reaching around 6’ 1” in height, which could partly accommodate for his thinner frame. Young Mr. Crouch isn’t spindly in physique by any stretch of the imagination, but he isn’t the all brown type either. He’s a trim lad, with a handsome, tall physique, and a slight muscular build giving him an appearance of activity and strength. Barty doesn’t exactly fawn over his looks, but he’s well aware that he’s in good physical shape, and that he can be quite handsome. Looks have never been an important factor in Barty’s life, but he keeps his body in good working order so that he is able to do all the things he wants to. He’s a young man who’s confident about his looks, and although he has no interest in vanity, he does like to change his appearance according to those he socializes around; it isn’t a matter of being influenced by other’s fashion however, just his habit of being a bit of a chameleon in order to do what he does best. To serve.

Wand Type: Alder wood, 10 ¼ inches, Thestral bone core.
Wand Expertise: Excellent with potions, transfiguration and curses.
Patronus: Lyrebird.
Boggart: Failure.

Personality:

INTELLIGENT !

Barty is somewhat of a brainy individual, someone who prefers the use of the mind than jumping into a brawl. He values intelligence above most things, and he likes to feel like he’s the smartest guy in the room. However, his intelligence isn’t the sort that makes him a know it all, for Barty rarely ever feels the need to share his knowledge for the sake of showing off; he’s a calculating boy, who only shares his wisdom when he feels it is necessary and relevant. So while Barty won’t really contribute to a lesson or stick his hand up, desperately seeking approval for his smarts from the professors, Barty does do very well in his studies. He’s a naturally hard working person, with an eye for detail and perfection, and while he has a tendency towards diligence, he doesn’t obviously spend all his time with his nose in a book, or studying hard until his eyes go cross-eyed; no, he just works at the level he feels is necessary for him in each subject, and he always puts things in perspective. Barty has a pretty level head on him when it comes to personal judgments, so he always tries to put a realistic view on things whenever he can. Therefore, it’s no surprise that Barty has somewhat of a logical mind, or at least his brain is able to look a problem and find a way around it. Barty can be quite creative at times, calculating what measures would be best for certain situations, and he does so very quickly. Bartemius is a very sharp boy, and this is shown greatly through his wit. Though Barty isn’t the type to draw attention to himself by getting involved in some messy brawl, the ways of a wordsmith are not below him. Like many members of the upper-pureblood class, young Mr. Crouch has a razor-tongue, sharpened by wit and sarcasm, and pointed remarks are a common thing to hear coming from Barty’s lips.

LOYAL !

Though Bartemius Jr. isn’t a Gryffindor, even he still upholds the quality of loyalty. This quality makes Barty quite different from the rest of his Slytherin, often pureblooded counterparts, for although they often stay true to their family’s commonly racist and elitist ideals, and have an overpowering desire for greatness, their loyalties to such things and people who can get what they want is often fleeting. As soon as the good thing runs dry, they move onto the next best thing, ever climbing the ladder to authority and prestige. Barty is guilty for doing this of course, for no one can escape one’s upbringing or environment without picking up the odd bad habit, but there are some things which Barty values dearly, and in doing so, is intensely loyal to. It isn’t the type of loyalty that comes of blindly following a trend, and perhaps therefore not understanding what you are following before. It is the type of loyalty which comes of close study and attention to what one is being loyal to until any committal is made, a type of loyalty which will probably last until one’s death, perhaps martyrs death for the very thing a person is loyal to. Being the type of boy who doesn’t fully respect someone until that person has earned his respect, it’s quite difficult for Barty to find someone he admires, but he did find that admiration for one man in particular, a man who goes by the pseudonym Lord Voldemort. This dark powerful wizard has acted like a father figure in Barty’s teenage years, and while Barty may not have gained full recognition from the Dark Lord yet, he would die most willingly for the man, and Barty’s natural ambitions make him hungry for a way of pleasing the Dark Lord. It probably won’t take long for Barty’s crafty mind to come up with a way of impressing the Dark Lord, and it won’t be pretty; just because Barty values initial thought and mental consideration before involving himself in a scuffle, he certainly isn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty for what he deems to be the right reasons. And following Voldemort’s orders are definitely the right reasons.

CHAMELEON !

If Barty were to be compared to a reptile, as he probably would given his house affiliations, an accurate comparison would not be with a snake, but with a rather more unusual and downright bizarre cold-blooded creature called a chameleon. Now Barty doesn’t have the ability to shoot an elasticized tongue six feet in front of him, or move his eyes independently, or even change the colour of skin, but even if he can’t change the colour of his skin, Barty can very much change his appearance to fit his surroundings. It’s all to do with part of his preference to being left unnoticed by the majority of the population. He’s the type of person who prefers not to stand out, and thus he takes dressing for the occasion quite seriously. However, he doesn’t preen himself, just merely observes those around him, gathering up knowledge of their thoughts, habits and dress so that he can easily fit in. It’s not that Barty wants to be like everyone else, follow a trend, join the bandwagon or what have you; it just makes things easier for him to integrate himself among the general population. You see, Barty always likes to think of every scenario and turn out of a situation, and if the worst came to the worst, Barty wouldn’t want to be fingered as a suspect for some sort of crime because he was easily distinguishable, not to the muggle-sympathetic authorities anyway. Barty isn’t ashamed of the often horrible things he does for the sake of his twisted beliefs, but he’d rather not be charged and punished for the crime when he could just carry on doing it. Being the son of the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement at the British Ministry of Magic, Barty is very aware of how not to be found out in a crime, and his knowledge of the processes of British magical law combined with his utterly focused loyalty to the Dark Lord and his beliefs make Barty Crouch Jr. a rather dangerous person to be around. You better just hope he likes you.

UNSTABLE !

Despite all his assets for being the perfect warrior in Lord Voldemort’s fight for supremacy, Bartemius does have his weaknesses, and they come in the form of his mental state. One may think it quite natural for there to be something wrong with a person mentally if they were able to do such cruel things to their fellow man, but you’d be surprised what people can do in a desperate situation, even if they may be the most saintly person you could come across. In Barty’s case however, there is definitely something wrong. To begin with, there is a deep insecurity about him. Though you wouldn’t be able to distinguish it at first, for like most upper-class purebloods, Barty is a master of composure, but there are times when his insecurity shows. It all comes down to the fact that his father was rarely ever around when Barty was growing up, and even when he was, it seemed practically impossible to please the man. Everything good and clever that Barty did, it either seemed to bore or disappoint his father. Despite his mother’s best efforts to assure her son that Barty Sr. really did love his son, the damage had been done, and an obsession in Barty grew in trying to prove himself to those he respected, especially to the Dark Lord; and having tried to make himself into a person whom the Dark Lord would trust and be proud to have as a member of his movement has made Barty cruel. Having already possessing a chip on his shoulder from his father’s neglect helped fuel his sadism and hate for those the Dark Lord deemed as impure, creating someone who is near enough a sociopath in personality; charming, intelligent, though cold and brutal. Barty has a tendency in his focus and diligence on a subject to turn into an obsession, and at times when he doesn’t get his way though he has worked so hard for it, he can act like a screaming two year old. For the majority of the time, Barty is able to hide his disappointment, but when he’s really pushed, he can have a mean temper. Bartemius takes a mad sort of lustful enjoyment out of seeing others in pain, and it’s only really a fraction of self-control which stops him from doing something completely unforgiveable.

Likes:
+ Potions
+ Transfiguration
+ Quidditch
+ Reading
+ Pain
+ The Dark Lord
+ Blood
+ Problem solving
+ Deception
+ Blue eyes and dark hair
+ Books
+ Night
+ Duels
+ Wit
+ Efficiency
+ Loyalty
+ Edgar Allan Poe
+ Rare stake
+ Sex
+ Alcohol
Dislikes:
– Bartemius Crouch Sr.
– Blood traitors
– Muggles
– Failure
– Stupidity
– Being out-witted
– Himself
– Fluffy animals
– Muggle Studies
– Divination
– Disloyalty
– Romantic novels/films
– Cowards
– Homework
– School getting in the way of his other duties
– Peeves
– Gossip
– Depression

History:
The Crouch Family. They may not be as prestigious or famous or even noble as the Houses of Black, Malfoy, Yaxley, Mulciber, or even Weasley and Longbottom, but they are just as ancient, and in some ways just as influential. They are the type of family who just seem to always be there, through thick and thin, through peace and war, through times of plenty and times of famine; they just seem to linger on. They stay in the shadows, as the background noise, quietly gaining respect and admiration from their peers, wheedling their influence and bloodline into those higher up the food chain than them. The perfect pureblood family, who keep themselves in the influential’s mind’s eye, but just far enough from being blamed if anything should disrupt the balance. They may not be the most revolutionary or scandalous, but although scandal and revolution get you a place in the history books, they often result in a short and painful death. And how can you pass on the family name if you are cut down in your prime? Of course, the Crouch’s have had the odd renegade member, but they aren’t as well remembered as those from the Black’s and Malfoy’s. If you asked a random witch or wizard in the street if they had ever heard of Stearns Crouch, you would most certainly be met with a blank expression, but if it were Brutus Malfoy or Phineas Nigellus Black, there would be instant recognition. All the same, the Crouch’s do have their roots entwined with those of the more celebrated pureblood families, as is common of purebloods, but really the Crouch’s have never made real names for themselves. Sure, at the time everyone would have heard of the great Stearns Crouch, head of the Department of Mysteries during the reign of the muggle king William IV, one of the most cold and paranoid wizards to head the department, but it is only ever a select few who remember the name Crouch. And that is what Bartemius Kharon Crouch intended to change the day his father left his family to be with a muggle.

Our story begins on a warm August day in 1941. Miranda Beatrice Crouch was now lying comfortably among her silk and linen sheets, feeling fresh having just been cleaned up by the healers and house elves, and with a warmth building in her heart as she waited expectantly though with sleepy eyes to hold her new baby for the first time. There was still a nagging feeling in the back of her mind however, disrupting her comfort as she lay in wait, for she had been through the birthing process a couple of times before, but neither time had ever resulted in her being a mother for long. It was a sad fact, but Mrs. Crouch had indeed brought two children into the world before, but never with lasting success; the first had been a still born male, while the second had been a girl born prematurely, having only lasted a week before passing on like her brother before her. The poor woman had been so desperate to try again, as had her husband Dionysus, but it had been four years after the death of their daughter that they finally became pregnant again. She had been so worried all the way through the pregnancy, and even now after the healer’s had pronounced her child to be as healthy as any, worry gnawed at her bones like a starving dog; she would not believe it until she saw and held the child. Their child. Her heart had leapt in her chest when her and her husband’s bedroom door creaked open and Dionysus stepped in. A small bundle wrapped in soft downy blankets was clasped in his arms, and his gaze was fixed on the child. It took a moment for him to cross the room and reach his wife’s position, but to Miranda it felt like an age. And then, her tall dark-haired husband passed the babe to its mother, and Miranda could feel uncharacteristic tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. As she rested him in the crock of her bosom, Miranda gazed down into the peach-pink face of her eyes with the deepest affection only a mother can possess for their child. He was so beautiful, better than anything Miranda could have imagined. And as mother and son gazed up at one another for the first time, Dionysus Erebus Crouch looked upon his wife with love in his eyes for the first time since they met. But it was a gaze which would last for almost the space of a year.

Bartemius Crouch, or Barty as he preferred to be known, grew up in a world of prosperity. His home was a huge estate in the Devonshire countryside, not far from the neighbouring Malfoy lands. If it wasn’t the marble staircases, or impossibly large chambers that gave Barty a privileged life, it was his father’s high social standing. Dionysus Crouch was a well to do man, high up among the ranks of the wizengamot, and it was said that he had the ear of the Minister at his disposal. Dionysus was a popular man among his peers too, for he was a charming and amicable man, who loved to hole galas and balls, mostly within his own residence. And his wife Miranda was more than happy to oblige to such habits; she adored showing off her flare for fashion and high-taste, and her sharp wit in conversation gained her high regard amongst her husband’s colleagues. “What a charming woman that Miranda Crouch is.” “What a dear. You would never have believed to have once been a Yaxley!” that’s what they would all say, but unfortunately, not everyone appreciated Miranda as much. Though life seemed perfect for the Crouch’s on the exterior, what with Dionysus’ influence, Miranda’s impeccable charm, and the clear intelligence and growing ability of their son, the dynamics between the Crouch’s were far from perfect. Despite Miranda’s good looks, sharp mind, and constant diligence, Dionysus Crouch had never truly fallen in love with his wife. He had tried for years, even before they had been wed, but Dionysus had never been able to force his heart to follow his head; they seemed like the perfect match, but they lacked the chemistry. Miranda on the other hand was devoted to her husband, but her fast-witted brain and women’s intuition made her realize quite early on in her marriage to Dionysus that her husband did not love her. She had hoped that he would learn to love her in time, and when she finally gave birth to Barty, their situation finally seemed to be improving. But it was short lived, and as Barty grew older, his parents began to tire of one another. Arguments and rows were a common thing in the Crouch household, but Miranda never suggested divorce, for though she disliked her husband, she loved her son, and ruining Dionysus’ reputation would certainly ruin Barty’s. She did not have to worry however, for Dionysus did that for himself.

It was Barty’s thirteenth birthday, when he was in his second year at Hogwarts; he had been sorted into Slytherin, like most of his predecessors before him, and had gained many friends from school who were mostly the children of his father’s colleagues and associates. All had been running smoothly, with Barty cutting his enormous, enchanted dragon cake, and now playing blind man’s bluff with his friends. Miranda and Dionysus had agreed to make a truce for the evening for the sake of their son’s well fare, but it was the discovery of a love note addressed to Dionysus that set it off. As Miranda quietly questioned her husband about it, keeping as much composure as possible, for the letter contained details and hints that Dionysus and some person called ‘Nessa’ would be running away together to some cottage in Norfolk. Dionysus had responded with just as much decorum and calm tone that Miranda finally began to show her fury as her tone became increasingly stiff and loud in volume. One thing lead to another, and Mr. and Mrs. Crouch were shouting at one another as Mr. Crouch enchanted his belongings out of the house while Mrs. Crouch the odd ornament and hard object after her husband’s fleeing form; all the while, Barty and his chums along with their chums watched the series of events with dumbfounded expressions. Dionysus was never to be seen by either Barty or Miranda ever again, and when he did write to his son to congratulate him The un-scandalous Crouch family finally had a scandal on their hands, both with the fact that many high ranking ministers and their wives and children had witnessed the whole drama unfold, while at the same time it was discovered by some slime ball reported from the Daily Prophet had found out that ‘Nessa’, was a Vanessa Jenkins from Camden, London. A muggle. Even with Miranda’s wit and charm, the Crouch family still fell into disgrace, and it was only really her son, the fact that Dionysus was forced to resign from the wizengamot, and that Dionysus had been gentlemanly enough to leave the Crouch estate to his wife for their son to own when he was old enough that kept Miranda going.

But Barty was facing problems of his own, for now all his high standing friends in and out of school seemed to want nothing to do with him. And if it was neglect or ignorance, it was mockery and bullying. Barty suffered much from his father’s disgrace, and as a result, a festering disgust grew within him for his father, as well as an overwhelming determination to bring the Crouch family back into glory. So, while many of his toffee-nosed peers paid little attention to their school studies, for ‘Daddy could always get them a job in the wizengamot’ providing they had the right connections, Barty worked his socks off at school. He grew to be the top wizard in his year, and the constant bad-mouthing he received from those around him created a rather cut-throat personality in Barty. He soon became even more quick-witted and cutting in remark than his mother, and gradually he began to form his own reputation, and a rather positive one at that among the appropriate circles. And it was really Barty’s work and charm, as well as his mother’s, who gained his betrothal to Tethys Mulciber, a very suitable pureblood Slytherin girl who actually seemed to quite like Barty. It wasn’t long before Barty had graduated from Hogwarts, and barely six months after graduating, he had fetched himself a job as an auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic. Then, at the age of nineteen, when she was eighteen, Barty and Tethys married, with Tethys moving into the Crouch estate.

It didn’t take long for Barty to climb up the social and career ladder as he worked none stop, barely even having time to see his wife. However, in the third year of their marriage, Tethys did manage to bare their first and only child into the world, and his name was to be Bartemius Kharon Crouch Jr. Though Barty was very much pleased by the birth of his son, his near obsession for gaining high social rank among the members of society of the wizarding world drove him on in his career climbing. So it comes as little surprise to know that Barty Crouch Jr. barely ever saw his father, mainly being brought up by his mother and grandmother. This could have left any child with a feeling of neglect, but it ran deeper for little Barty. Whatever opportunity he did get to see his father, he, his mother and his grandmother always tried to prepare something for little Barty to do to impress and please his father. Whether it was learning the alphabet, or learning to fly a broom stick without falling off, Barty always felt that his efforts would be rewarded with the approval of his loving father; he wanted to make his dad proud, like any good son would. But Barty Sr. never knew how to act around his son. He loved the boy dearly, but showing such tenderness practically impossible for the man who had made efforts to hide his feelings for so long. So whenever his son showed him something he’d learnt or achieved, Barty Sr. either didn’t react much at all, or would criticize his son for the little faults he made. And that is where Bartemius Crouch Jr’s hate for his father began. A damaged boy intern damaged his own son.

But Barty wasn’t to hate his father until he turned eight years old, when Barty Sr. received the promotion he’d always dreamed of; he was made Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Then, young Barty’s father was never around, and as he gradually became more aware of the world and how father’s should really treat their like in the books he read, Barty began to loath his father just as his father had done before him. Though he was adored by his mother and grandmother, nothing could ever replace the bond between father and son. But he learnt to deal with his frustration about the lack of affection between him and his father through the art of composure and decorum. His grandmother Miranda was his teacher, and what an excellent teacher she made. So when Barty was finally shipped off to Hogwarts, he did not appear to be some messed up kid from a broken family. For all intense and purposes, he was a handsome boy, from a well-to-do pureblood family in which everything seemed filled with wealth, success and prosperity. But you should never trust an apple from the colour of its skin, for even the most beautiful of things can be rotten to the core.

Sample Post:
It was almost as if he could feel the frustration coursing through his blood vessels. Hot, and painful, and crippling, it felt like it was squeezing his heart to the point at which he couldn’t breathe. Caradoc was used to feeling annoyed and annoyed with himself but this was bad. Usually, he was just able to brush it off with some excuse like it was somebody else’s fault, something along the lines of, “Well if they can deal with what kind of a person I am, screw ‘em.” But it wasn’t like that now, it was completely different. It was like his mind had split in half, with one egging him on to do it while the other weighed up the cons in such a tempting manner. Should he stay or should he go? That was the question, and a more humourous person would notice the joke in that, but Caradoc being a naturally pessimistic person and not really being in a humourous mood took no notice. It was the question which kept spinning around in his mind like some imagined merry-go-round. There were so many opportunities open to him if he did go. There would be countless people attending, and knowing what types of people were attending, it would be a valid opportunity to study such individuals in a certain type of environment, in this case, a party. An eighteenth birthday party in fact. And not just anyone’s eighteenth birthday party, Sirius Black’s eighteenth birthday party. The numerous school celebrities such as the Marauders, Marlene McKinnon and the various other older years would certainly be there, and although Caradoc didn’t really care about their social status because in his eyes everyone is equal, he was still intrigued by the natures of these people. Then there was Bella Swan. She would be there, and really it was her influence that was making Doc even consider going to this party. She was a close and good friend to him, even if nobody honestly knew that the two Hufflepuffs were friends because that was how Caradoc wanted their relationship to be (secret), and it was she who had been pestering him for what seemed like an age about coming to the party. She had tried to tempt him with thoughts of making new friends and socializing, and despite all his cynicism about such ‘temptations’, Caradoc had been enticed. For his disillusionment and dislike for other people, there was a part of Caradoc who wanted to be a normal, happy teenage boy who had friends and was loved and admired. He was sceptical enough to know however that he never would be that, not completely at any rate, but a few more people whom he could like and vice versa would be nice. Then again, would the type of people attending the party be the type of people Caradoc would want to make friends with? He doubted it; he already had a low regard for the Marauders as they all seemed like a bunch of immature, self-loving pricks (though Lupin didn’t seem all bad), and girls like Marlene McKinnon sparked up a nausea in Caradoc which he found difficult to get past. Then there were crowds, for there was sure to be a crowd there, Caradoc wasn’t too keen on crowds, for he found them claustrophobic and irritating (a lot of things were irritating to Caradoc) as he couldn’t hear himself think over the noise they inevitably created.

All these options and scenarios were running rampant through his cranium, and it was causing the poor boy to tense up dreadfully. He brought his arms up to his head and pressed his clenched fists against his screwed up eyes as he gritted his teeth with the aggravation of knowing what to do. Then finally, his mind chose the route he was to take, and his whole body relaxed slowly like a car tyre with a slow puncture releasing air, and to match with this simile, he exhaled the trapped air in his lungs with a soft his as the breath slid through his still constricted jaw. He was going, and luckily nobody was in his dorm to see the serious of awkward physical events which took place to get to this conclusion. His consolation, his excuse for such a decision was that he was doing it for Bella. It didn’t matter that it was Sirius’ birthday party, (well it did, but Doc knew he didn’t have to make that much of a fuss over the Gryffindor boy, seeing as they weren’t what you call close friends or even good friends. It was complicated) all that mattered to Caradoc right now was making Bella happy. He hated to admit it, but he had a real soft spot for his fellow Hufflepuff, and after all the support she had given him, he wanted to return the favour tenfold. And Merlin knew that she needed support now more than anything. But he wasn’t going to baby her; Doc wasn’t that type of person anyway. He was a true Englishman in the way that he was a firm believer in the stiff upper-lip. So, he would just treat her as he usually did when they were alone together; as a kind, affectionate person though none the less his usual callous, repressed self. With his verdict made, all he had to do now was to get dressed for the occasion, as he was still in his school robes, and to fish out the present he had luckily already bought for Sirius; having been invited to the party had spurred him to purchase something for the seventh year Gryffindor, even if he wouldn’t attend this social gathering of his.

After shifting through the crumpled clothes in his trunk, Caradoc found his black suit and tie which he pulled out from the depths of the trunk to scrutinize over as he held them up high. They were rather creased, but that could be fixed with a flick of a wand for his mother had grown weary of his incessantly wrinkled clothing so she had taught him a charm to get rid of them, which he performed right now. With his outfit now pressed like it had been freshly dry-cleaned, Caradoc slipped it on after removing his school uniform. He gave himself a quick brush-off once concluding with his dress up, glancing himself briefly in the shared mirror of the dorm to push back his long brown hair out of his face and eyes to give a more neat appearance. Then the search for the present began, and it was now that the fourth year cursed at how small the damn thing was. Finally giving up on his manual functions of search and rescue, Caradoc resorted to the Accio Charm which he muttered darkly with infuriation at his own incompetence, and when the small packaged thing flew into his outstretched palm, he stuffed it carelessly into his jacket inside pocket, then slipping on his black leather slacks before departing the boy’s dorm. He walked soberly down the stairs to the common room, his face its customary stone-look which caused, as ever, younger Hufflepuffs coming up the stairs to give him a wide birth. The wise-cracks had learnt a long time ago not to antagonize the Dearborn boy with lines such as, “Cheer up, it might not happen.” Everyone knew Caradoc Dearborn was a loose-cannon and that detention didn’t scare him one bit. He had crossed the main common room and was treading up the outer stairs to the ground floor of Hogwarts before any other students could take note of his appearance and subsequent disappearance. He crossed the path of a few older students on his way to the courtyard, and he caught a group of Slytherin boys commenting on his unusually chic appearance in a derogative way but Doc let it go. He wasn’t much in the mood for a fight and turning up with a black-eye or broken nose would just upset Bella and those with weak stomachs and hematophobia.

He made the courtyard in good time, but he hesitated upon entering and half-heartedly hid against one of the stone archways over-looking the area. Even bitter old Caradoc had to admit that McKinnon had done a good job in organizing the event. The courtyard looked, for lack of a better word, beautiful, and even if it wasn’t exactly Caradoc’s taste, he could still appreciate it. He admired the effort the older girl had put into it, but he suspected an ulterior motive to her actions. Caradoc knew people, and he knew what type of a person Marlene was. She may have wanted think that she was only doing this for her best friend, but Doc was all too aware that McKinnon and Sirius Black had a history. But it wasn’t Caradoc’s business and so he chose not to pry into it tonight. Well, he’d try not to. There was already a good number of people there, and their hustle and bustle already had the daunting effect on the young Hufflepuff. He searched for Bella’s brunette hair and heart-shaped face, but he could not spot it among the others. He could see Olivia Thompson, McKinnon, Jacob Edwards, Peter Pettigrew, and Alice Logan (Sirius’ new belle, so he’d heard) bobbing among the crowd, but no Bella. It was only when Doc was turning away to make a quick exit before anyone noticed him that the choral cry of, “SURPRISE!” made Caradoc jump back and look at the party. Sirius had arrived, and McKinnon had pounced on him, pulling him into what Caradoc suspected was a vice-like grip. Then he spotted her, Bella, as the crowd shifted towards Sirius. She was standing with Pierre Scham, another seventh year Gryffindor and a friend of her’s from what he understood. Now was the opportunity to slip in, while the masses were preoccupied with the Black boy, and Caradoc seized it, stepping over the wall of the arch he stood behind and slipping quietly round the perimeter of the courtyard like a strange, anti-social wraith. It went as he hoped, for no one noticed him as all eyes were on Sirius, and Caradoc finally found himself standing behind Bella and Scham, their backs turned to him. He edged up closer to them with feline foot-falls until he was barely a foot away, just standing behind Bella’s shoulder, his dark eyes flickering from the excited crowd to the girl in front of him.

”What have you gotten me into, Bella?” he murmured in his gravelly, monotone voice, his gaze deciding to be fixed on the majority of guests huddled around Sirius. Indeed, that was the question – what had he gotten himself into?

^{__________________________________________________________}


{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, OREO, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.

[Professor Albus Dumbledore]

I’m assuming you know that by us accepting Barty, that means in order for you to apply for Persephone Ogden you’ll need to fill out the character form? I wasn’t able to find any record of you having sent one in already. If you have no intention of keeping Persephone or wish to later pick them up, just note the account will need to be deleted or the form will be a requirement to fill out and send in. (:

All of that aside, Barty’s lookin’ good. Accepted.

``IZZY