THAT UNWANTED ANIMAL | harry potter

PROLOGUE

September 1st, 1973

KING'S CROSS STATION, LONDON

SEVEN YEARS BEFORE HARRY POTTER'S BIRTH...

The boy in front of him walked with a limp in his step. Though he knew him well enough to know this was due to no disability or injury. No, it was a cry for attention.

Selfish, attention-seeking, malicious...

Several words came to mind that he usually would have directed at the eleven year old before him, pushing his trolley, dragging his expensive, brand-new, loafers across the concrete floor, wearing and scratching them down to the bone. All to get on his nerves. Though the amount of strangers running around King's Cross Train Station deferred him from giving the boy a tongue lashing in public. One could never know whose ears were glued against the walls or pavement, looking for a loose, damning declaration they could then use against him. And given his profession, and where he worked, he would rather not take the risk.

Self-regarding, ungrateful, desperate...

Instead what came out was, "I can't believe you chose that bloody bird instead of a cat. Crouches have brought cats as their companions to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for nearly six centuries." He threw a disdain-filled glance at the snowy owl chirping away in the cage the boy had neatly stacked on top of his trunk. The initials B.C.J., on his trunk, looked worn and already damaged. The father wondered briefly if the boy had been trying to rip off the letter C of the stiff material, but he quickly put the thought out of mind. He was not in the mood to resume the topic of their previous disagreement.

"Father, I told you. Cadogan is an owl that demonstrates exceptional intelligence. I'd rather have him than a cat." The owl chirped, as if flattered by his master's compliment towards his intelligence.

Disdain was still present, only this time his eyes were set on the boy. "You named the bird?"

"Father, I didn't want a cat!" The boy suddenly cried out, stopping dead in his tracks, causing the man behind him holding the briefcase to let out a grumpy sigh as the boy and the trolley suddenly cast an unexpected obstacle between him and his quest to go to work. The father cast an embarrassed and flustered glance at the man as he went around the pair and continued on his journey, barely sparing them another glance. Yet the look in his eyes caused anger to rise in Bartemius Crouch Senior's chest, anger an all too familiar feeling for him to experience every time his son brought unwanted attention upon them.

"Father-" His hand collided with the boy's cheek before the eleven year old could utter but another single word. His son flinched as his father's signet ring, the crest of House Crouch, almost hit him right in the eye while his father backhanded him for his embarrassing slight.

"Lower your voice." Was all the Ministry worker said to his son as he gestured to the trolley, urging him to keep carrying on. "Show some respect, boy."

I should be at work, he thought, undeterred by the tears in Bartemius Crouch Junior's eyes as he desperately tried not to let a single one slip past his waterline in the presence of his father, pushing his trolley forward until the wall between platforms nine and ten came into view. Yes, he should have been at work. His wife would have normally been the one doing this, being the doting parent, walking their son to platform nine and three quarters and waving him off as the Hogwarts Express blew a load of steam and set forth on the almost ten hour journey to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But Cassandra Crouch had been brought to bed with what appeared to be an unknown ailment and the doctor had recommended no potion to ease her sufferings but only bed rest until he deemed her fit to do anything but.