Rosekiller

Summer of '75|Thirteen

I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby
Come with me Friday, don't say maybe
I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you
Ooh ooh ooh oooooh

Wednesday, July 16th, 1975

So far, Barty had had the worst summer of his life. He was cooped up inside the Crouch Manor, and was forced to hang out with his father's coworkers' kids. They weren't even in his age group, they were younger. Like 4-11 years old.

Normally he could handle the constant questions and obsessive giggling and the whining, but one day in mid July it got to be too much.

One of his father's coworkers, Arthur, brought his wife, Molly, and almost five year old son, Charlie, to a business dinner. The child was constantly trying to play with Barty, and he was throwing tantrums whenever he or anyone else said no to anything.

Near the end of the evening, Charlie had pissed off Barty so much, that he was clutching his wand in one hand, and held a strong fist in the other. Their parents were chatting in the sitting room, and Barty was sent off to keep an eye on the small ginger gremlin ankle biter.

The child grabbed Barty's hair when he sat on the floor, and out of instinct, Barty swung at his face. He heard a small crack and Charlie started hysterically crying. His nose was bleeding, and he was holding his face.

His mother came running into the room once she heard her son's sobs. "He fell on his face when I turned away, I'm so sorry Mrs Weasley!" Barty lied. He'd lied twice in that sentence, technically. One, he didn't fall on his face. Two, he was not sorry at all. The little prick deserved it.

Friday, August 18th, 1975

Barty had received an ass whooping after the Weasleys had left. Then he was given a month grounding.

Finally, Barty's grounding was over, and he had managed to get out of the manor.

He decided, as an act of rebellion against his father and his unfair punishment, he would get a tattoo. Nothing huge, but noticeable. He'd found a tattoo parlour a few blocks away, and had gone there before.

When he arrived, he told the woman at the front what he wanted done, and she took him farther into the shop.

The building looked run down and dirty on the outside, but on the inside, it was clean, organized, and very much put together.

Friday, August 18th, 1975

A few hours later, Barty slipped the cashier some leprechaun coins, knowing they would disappear soon after, and made his way back to the manor. He now had a snake wrapping itself around a rose on his hip. He was very happy about it.

He'd come to the decision to get that done after a long while of thinking. He'd wanted to get something meaningful, and started thinking of the things that meant the most to him. He was thinking of material items, and realized none had a great emotional significance.

Then he began thinking about his friendships. He thought about him and Regulus, him and Pandora, him and Dorcas, and him and Evan. He realized he valued Evan more than any of his other friends, and with that realization, settled on using a rose to symbolize Evan, and a snake to symbolize himself.

Content with his decision, he sat in a chair for 2 1/2 hours, a young man with piercings and tattoos pressing an inked needle into his arm.