Blood Magic ✤ George Weasley ✓

1 - The Unorthodoxy of Bartemius Crouch

Authors note: I had taken this fic down with the intention of rewriting it, but honestly I think it's about time I let Cass and her story go and let Blood Magic simply be. Maybe I will come back and rewrite it eventually, but I don't see that happening until I finish a few of my current fics.

Anyways, this story is not representative of my writing right now. I didn't even use proper grammar when writing dialogue (shuddering just thinking about it, actually). But, I do think hidden beneath cringey writing and god awful grammar and dialogue, is a story worth telling. So, I'm republishing all the original chapters in their original state.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you don't hate this writing as much as I do lol.

musical mood: seven - taylor swift

Not many people in Stromness, Scotland, knew of Bartemius Crouch Sr. 's existence, but those who did had nothing good to say about him.

He was a strange man, seemingly very wealthy despite not having a job in the town. He wore weird clothes, had a thick French accent, and always kept blinds over all the windows in his manor, as if he was hiding something.

Bartemius Crouch didn't attend church, he didn't have friends, or even leave his house. He was incredibly rude - by the rare chance he had exited his large home, and someone attempted to speak to him, he would simply walk right past them with his head down and avoiding their gaze, as if they didn't exist. Or, others may argue, as if he didn't want to exist.

He had moved to Stromness near ten years ago, alone except for an infant daughter, with no indication of a wife or who the mother may be, which caused a ring of gossip surrounding the eccentric man. In the small, religious town, a bastard child was nearly unheard of. Rumour had it, Bartemius had kidnapped her and ran to the remote island, but as the child grew older and began attending the local primary school, the theory was quickly quelled, for Cassiopeia Crouch was near identical to her father. She had the same olive skin, mousy brown hair, and chocolate eyes.

Not only that, but the child's personality was akin to her fathers. She was standoffish; as though she thought of herself as better than her peers. She rolled her eyes when students got questions wrong, she read books on the swingset during recess instead of playing with the other kids, she never had birthday parties or invited anyone to her home. It was as though she wanted to be invisible, to go unnoticed.

Which was why, on the morning of September 1st, 1991, Cassiopeia Crouch swung gently back and forth on the swing, next to her only friend, knowing that she wouldn't be missed by anyone else, and not minding it one bit.

"Will you phone me?" Connor Moore looked at her with wide hazel eyes, digging the toe of his shoe through the dirt.

She shook her head softly. "I can't. This school is old fashioned. They don't have phones. I'll write though - I'll have my father deliver letters to you."

This just made Connor look even more depressed. "You know I'm rotten at reading. It'll take me half the night to write you back. And Mauve's gone off to Uni in Islington, so she can't help me no more." He took a shallow, shaky breath. "I don't want you to leave."

Cass almost cried on the spot.

She would be lonely enough without Connor - she knew herself well enough to know that making friends at Hogwarts was unlikely. But leaving Connor, and lying to him about where she was going, that was the killer.