Title: I Know

Summary: He keeps asking. She keeps saying no. In some twisted way, they both know what will happen.

Author's Note: I'm sorry. I know I'm supposed to finish up my other Barty/Hermione fic, but this plot wouldn't leave me the hell alone! It was invading my mind, and I wanted to write it. So I did. I just thought it'd be super cute and kind of fluffy. This will be my second Barty/Hermione story. Hope you'll all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Anyway, thanks for reading, and please review. Remember, the more feedback I get, the more motivated I am to write, and the speedier the updates are. But enough about me. Let's get to the story, shall we?

-McDiggin'It

…

An end cannot be predicted if there is no beginning.

Their beginning is like no other. They did not meet (again) in a coffee shop, or in some clichéd moment of romance where the male accidentally bumps into the female counterpart, turns and apologizes and notices the way her eyes reminds him of sunshine's and meadows. No.

When Barty Crouch Jr meets her again, it was on the very day he was headed to the Ministry of Magic for his final test, which would determine his fate. His future. He had passed all the previous tests and evaluations. His final assessment would be a rather tedious interrogation that would be prepared by the Ministry's most dependable Aurors. One of them happens to be Harry Potter himself. Barty wasn't too sure if the odds would be in his favor. But one thing is clear to him. Today is the day he would finally begin to build the life he had always dreamed of.

It was an ordinary day like any other. He was running towards the muggle phone booth that every Wizard and Witch knows is a concealed Ministry entrance. He was right at the door when something, or rather, someone crashed into him, sending him soaring through the door and crashing against the glass wall of the phone booth.

"Oh my goodness!" he heard a feminine voice exclaim behind him before he felt a pair of hands trying to help him away from the glass wall. "I'm so sorr—," she cuts herself off then. When he looks at her face, she's staring wide-eyed at him like she's looking at a ghost. In a way, she is.

"Granger." He says roughly, jarring her out of her shocked state.

"You're dead."

He raises an amused eyebrow at her. "I think we can both see that I'm not."

She shakes her head as if she's trying to rid her eyes of the sight before her. No such luck. "You—You're supposed to be dead." She rephrases.

He chuckles. "Yet, I'm alive."

He really didn't see it coming until it happened. One second, he's chuckling as he stares at his 'former student' with an amused expression planted firmly on his face, and the next second, he's sailing through the air, together with the broken pieces of glass from the phone booth. When he hits the ground, his breath is knocked out of him. He doesn't even have time to breathe in before he sees Hermione raising her wand and aiming it at him. He rolls out of the way just in time for another one of her hexes to whiz past his head.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" Hermione exclaims, her eyes wild, her nose flaring, her hair flailing behind her, and her wand-arm prepared to flick another hex at him.

"Are you out of your bloody mind, woman?!" Barty bellows at her as he scrambles to his feet.

"You're a Death Eater!" Hermione screams in fury.

"WAS a Death Eater!" Barty screams back at her, ignoring all the eyes that are staring at the both of them as they yell at each other. "WAS!" he emphasizes quickly when she raises her wand again. "You're lucky I haven't gotten my wand yet, otherwise, you'd be running for your life."

"Lucky me." Hermione shoots back sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "What are you doing back? You're supposed to be dead… or no better than."

He quirks an eyebrow at her as he dusts his clothe off. "I take it that you haven't read the Daily Prophet then." He sighs.

Hermione gives him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not dead."

She seems to be at a loss for words for a moment, before her eyes begin to clear of the confused look. "But you're supposed to be dead."

He sighs heavily as he straightens his clothe and walks back towards the phone booth. "I know."

"You know?!" Hermione shrieks. "You're supposed to be rotting away in a cell in Azkaban, getting what you deserve!"

He turns back, looking intensely at her. "I know." He repeats. Without another word, he disappears down the entrance of the Ministry, leaving Hermione to continue to stare at the spot where he'd just been standing.

His mind won't leave the memory of her face for the whole day. And every day afterwards.

...

…

The first time he asks her, is just a week after the phone booth incident. And unlike that first day, this day was not an ordinary day, for this day, is her birthday.

She's the best friend of the most famous man in the Wizarding world, so he'd have thought that she'd be going all out and having a Grand Birthday party, but apparently, she's not one of those people who leech off of their rich and famous friends.

He smiles when he sees her at the 'Ole Irish Pub not far from the Crouch manor. He was a regular here since before he became Voldemort's puppet, and he had surely missed this place. Barty's eyes follow her every movement. She's with Potter and about four different Weasley's, Lovegood's daughter, Finnigan, Thomas, and… Longbottom. Suddenly, he's craving for something a little stronger than the glass of rum in his hand, and so he pulls his eyes away from where she's crowded by her friends and waves the bartender over. "Jameson."

"A bit early for that, don't you think?" the bartender asks. The man is probably a hundred and five, and Barty almost yelled at the man to just give him his damned drink if it weren't for that fact.

"It's four in the afternoon." He replies instead. "A man can have whatever he wants at whatever hour he wants it, don't you think?"

The bartender shrugs and turns to fix Barty his drink.

As soon as the glass hits the counter, Barty's fingers wrap around the cool glass, raising it to his lips and knocking it back in one gulp. The liquid burns as it slides down his throat, but the burn is quite welcome. Very welcome.

"A round of shots, Graham." A familiar feminine voice orders from beside him, and he can't help but grin. He turns his head, seeing her up close for the first time since she arrived. Her face is practically glowing, her hair falls around her shoulders in an elegant flow of coppery waves and tendrils, her lips are curved into a smile that can only be described as… perfect. And then she notices him staring directly at her. "What?" she snaps at him, drawing him out of his daze.

His eyes quickly connect with hers before he begins to smile again. "Has anyone ever told you that you have perfect lips?"

She blinks at him like he's just sprouted three heads and asked her to strip down to the nude and do the hula in her birthday suit. "What?"

He chuckles softly. "Your lips." he nods at her. "They're perfect."

She has absolutely no idea what to say to him, so she just stands there, staring at him like he's crazy. And maybe he is… or still is.

"Would you have breakfast or lunch with me sometime?"

"Are you mad?" Hermione asks incredulously. "I would rather die after swallowing a bag of needles than have anything with you."

He blinks at her disbelievingly. "Well that's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"I think you're completely insane… and if you're not, then I'd say you're just stupid enough to think that I'd ever want to have anything to do with you."

"And if I am?"

Her expression is that of confusion. "Am what?"

"A little insane." He shrugs. "Would you go out with me then?"

"NO!"

"Then I'm not insane."

"I'd have to beg to differ."

"You don't have to." He counters. "I'll be whatever you want me to be. Just go out with me once."

She stares at him for a very long moment, trying to figure out how he can ever think that she would willingly have breakfast, lunch, or anything with him. Her thoughts are put on hold when the bartender sets down a tray of shots on the counter, right beside him.

"You're mental." She tells him as she grabs her tray of shots and immediately hurries away.

"I know." He mutters to himself.

...

…

It's been three weeks since the first time he's asked her, and one week since the last time. Everything was falling into place for him. He was slowly being accepted back into the Wizarding world, and life was going great for him. Except for just one thing.

He's grinning like a lunatic as he stares at her, scribbling down something on a piece of parchment. He's being blatantly obvious. If there was one thing he learned from his years of insanity, is that hiding his emotions and feelings usually ends with loneliness. And he's done being alone. So he had made his decision after that first time he asked Hermione out for breakfast or lunch. He was going to do anything and everything to get her attention. And come hell or high water, he was going to win her heart.

"What are you staring at?" Hermione's snappish tone slices through his thoughts.

He shakes his head, lips still curved into a large smile. "You."

Hermione shakes her head, letting out a heavy sigh. "If you're going to ask me out again, my answer will still be the same." She's too exhausted to even be mad at him today, so she just sticks to nonchalance and going straight to the point.

Barty nods. "I know… But just so you know, I'm going to keep asking."

"And I'll keep declining." Hermione shrugs.

He's silent for a long moment. She looks up at him from the letter of approval that she's writing for Luna Lovegood, who for some unknown reason is friends with Barty. Had it been any other one of her friends, Hermione would confront them about their purpose in befriending someone like Barty Crouch Jr. But it was Luna. No one would question why she does the things she does, because there's never a clear answer.

But she can question Barty. "Did you put a spell on her?" Hermione queries seriously.

He gives her a confused look. "Who?"

"Luna."

"Why in the world would I do something like that?" He asks incredulously, causing Hermione to roll her eyes at his tone.

"Oh," she begins sarcastically. "I don't know. Perhaps because you're a Death Eater!" she snaps at him.

It's his turn to roll his eyes, and he does. "First of all, I'm not a Death Eater anymore. Voldemort's been dead for a while now, so can we please move on from that? And second, Luna Lovegood is my friend. She's a brilliant girl with an open mind, and a kind heart. Unlike you, she hadn't judged me for my past, or treated me badly even though I know I deserve it. And last, I won't hex the only person who has befriended me."

Hermione is silent for a long moment, simply staring at him. Her expression remains blank, and her eyes remain glued to his intense stare. Finally, she blinks, looking away towards the parchment in front of her. She picks up her quill, scribbling down a few more words before folding it up and handing it over to Barty. "If you'd kindly ask Luna to send someone who actually works with her to retrieve her letters other than sending random people, I'd appreciate it."

Barty chuckles softly under his breath as he shakes his head at her. "In other words, you hate my guts, and you'd prefer to see Draco Malfoy over me because the blonde ferret had at least had the decency to be terrified of murder."

Hermione furrows her eyebrows at him as a hard frown settles on her face. "How did you—,"

"He's Lucius's son. All Malfoy's are cowards and crooks. Add that to the fact that I noticed in your fourth year how much he loved to pick on you, I'd say he's your least favorite person… next to me, of course."

"You're worse." She tells him honestly.

He looks down at his feet then, feeling the bile rise up in his throat. "I know." He mutters. Without another word, he turns and walks away.

...

…

"You're a lot dumber than you look."

She was there with her co-workers for a strategy meeting over a drink at a local pub in Hogsmeade, and he just "happened" to be there, sitting right beside her at the counter. Hermione would've left, if it hadn't been for the importance of the meeting that she was supposed to be having with her co-workers, who had mysteriously disappeared a couple of minutes ago.

Barty snorts loudly as he quirks an eyebrow at the brown-haired beauty before him. "Dumb people must be extremely good-looking then, don't you agree?"

"No, I don't agree."

Barty smirks, making Hermione roll her eyes at him. A glint of seriousness flashes in his eyes as he squints at her. "You're right."

"Really?" she asks sarcastically.

He nods, scooting forward so that their elbows are touching. "Surely a beautiful person like you can't be dumb." She scoots away and he chuckles under his breath. "Go out with me."

To be honest, she's not sure why he even bothers to keep asking. He's already asked her four times (not that she's counting or anything). She's already told him her answer, and that it would always be the same. Apparently, he doesn't care. She's convinced herself that she doesn't care either, but… sometimes, she's not sure.

"Just one day." Barty says hopefully.

Hermione sighs heavily, shaking her head at him. "Not a chance."

"Why not?" he asks perplexedly.

"You know why." She replies.

It's his turn to sigh as he leans forward on his elbows and gives her those stupidly intense looks that he always gives her, thinking that it'd change her mind about him. "I'm a changed person, Hermione. You know that."

"It's more complicated than that."

"How?"

"It just is." She gives him a pitiful look, knowing that he hates it when she does it. "We would never work out anyway." She finalizes.

He nods because he knows she's right. "I know."

"I have to go." With a nod, she turns on her heels and marches out of the bar.

He stares after her until she's completely out of his sight. Sighing heavily, Barty throws a wad of cash on the bar counter and heads outside. The moment he's out the door, he apparates straight to the Crouch manor, where he goes about doing what he does every night. He knows that he's risking a lot. But he really believes that it'll be worth it in the end. Because she's worth it.

...

…

He's become a regular at her office. He tells her that freeing Winky was something he wanted to do, but… it wasn't. Not really.

She works at the Department of Magical Creatures, and she's Head of the board of S.P.E.W. (Call him a stalker, but he knows a lot about her). So after doing a bit of research on her, he finally found a way to see her every day without getting kicked out of her office. Seeing that she's in charge of SPEW, (She hates it when he calls it spew. He doesn't get why he should spell out the name of her cause when he could just shorten it to one syllable.) he risked having to do his own laundry, wash his own dishes, make his own food, and make his own bed among other things, and decided to free the Crouch's family house elf, Winky. He wasn't ecstatic about letting his house elf go, but he supposes that it couldn't hurt. Plus, he's doing something good for a change. At least, he thought it was good until Winky started beating her head against the marble floors of the Crouch manor, threatening to split her skull open the moment he presented her with one of his socks.

He had gone to the Department of Magical Creatures, asking for their help in controlling his house elf. And so the rehabilitation process for Winky began. All owners of house elves must be present at meetings, appointments, and daily trainings on how to free your elf properly. It was exhausting to say the least, but at the end of the day when the owners of the elves have to individually see the head of the S.P.E.W Program, it's worth it. He'd sit through a five-hour convention on the why's, how's, and reasons why house elves should be free, stand in a quarter mile line for three hours, attend an hour long class on how to deal with a self-harming house elf, just so he can sit in the same room with Hermione for five short minutes.

On their final individual meeting, Hermione was required to ask about his previous life with a house elf, and his life without one now. However, their conversation goes a bit off topic when he decided that it was a good idea to ask again. "Are you busy tonight?"

"Yes." Hermione replies almost immediately.

"No you're not."

She sighs heavily, shaking her head as she scribbles down a few notes on her notepad. "Why did you ask if you knew?"

"I was hoping you'd answer truthfully and give me a chance."

She shakes her head again, "Nope. Not happening."

"Go out with me." Barty grins, completely ignoring her rejection.

She rolls her eyes at him. "God, do you ever give up?"

"Once or twice, but for this?" he shakes his head. "No. Not now, not ever."

She blinks at him, wondering if he's serious and whether he's really oblivious to what she says to him. "You know, sometime I want to strangle you." She tells him honestly.

He chuckles, "Go out with me and I'll let you."

She barks out a laugh at that. "Not happening, Crouch."

He winces at the name. She knows he hates it when she calls him that, and so she deliberately calls him that just to annoy him. It's the best she can do to repay him for annoying the living hell out of her.

"Just one date." Barty begins again. "If you still hate me by the end of it, I'll back off and you'll never have to see me again."

"Hmmm…" she pretends to think about it, intentionally giving him hope so she can crush them to the ground. "No."

Barty groans, leaning back in his seat and staring at her. "Really?"

Hermione sighs, leaning back also and staring intently at him. "I don't get you." She shakes her head. "Why do you try so hard?"

His fingers twitch as he raises them to his hair, running each one through the thin brown strands. "I've never tried so hard for anything in my life before."

"That's total bull." Hermione says snappishly. "You tried to kill Harry. You tried to bring back a madman who doesn't even care about you—,"

"Wrong." Barty interrupts. "Why do you care about Harry Potter?" he asks with a determined look.

Hermione blinks at him. "Because he's my friend."

"And why do you consider him your friend?"

Her eyebrows furrow at the man across from her. "Because he cared about me when no one else did." She shakes her head in confusion. "Where are you going with this?"

Barty leans forward a little, giving her that intense look he always gives her. "Believe it or not, the first person to ever care about me and notice me was Tom. Voldemort was once a caring Wizard, and once upon a time, my only friend. I did everything for him because believe it or not, he had once done everything for me. I owed him my life."

"He was a murderer!" Hermione whispers furiously. "A madman who wanted too much power!"

"He was also a madman who held a wand to my mother's throat and forced me to join his forces when I refused to join him before." Gone was the cheerful look that was in his eyes just a few minutes before, and was replaced by a dark look that Hermione had always associated with him in the past.

She stares at him. "What?"

"He held my mother at wand-point and made me promise to join him."

Hermione rolls her eyes at that. "So it's okay for you to murder innocent people, but it's beyond you to break a stupid promise you were forced to make?"

"Not a promise." Barty shakes his head. "An unbreakable vow."

Hermione swallows hard.

"Why do you think my mother chose to spend her last few days of life in a prison cell so I could be free?"

Hermione shakes her head, slowly understanding what he's saying, but not knowing what to say in reply.

"She blamed herself for everything I had to endure as a death eater. For all the lives I was forced to take. All the people I had to torture information out of. All the years I spent in Azkaban… A part of me wanted to blame her, but I knew it was my fault too for taking the vow instead of just letting her die. I chose my mother over thousands of other lives. I chose the woman who gave me life over the Longbottom's… The Robins, the Ravenwoods, the Jacksons, the Holsters, the Garrison's… and hundreds of other families I was forced to murder. I remember each of their faces. Their names. The looks in their eyes before I used the killing curse on them. They're in my nightmares every night, still haunting me to this day." Barty blinks back the glassy look in his eyes and finally raises his head. "Does that make me a bad person?" he doesn't wait for an answer as he gets up out of his seat and heads for the door.

She answers before he gets to the door. "It makes you human."

He stops, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. He offers the tiniest smile. "I tell myself that every time I think of them." He shakes his head. "I never believe it."

She doesn't know what possessed her to ask him, but she does. "Are you going to keep asking?" He raises a questioning eyebrow at her. She wants to groan out loud and bang her head on her desk for asking if he'd keep asking, but refrains. She shrugs at him. "So I can build my defenses for next time."

He grins widely at that, the cheerful look returning in full force. "The fact that you have to have a defense implies that you're affected by me."

She laughs, shaking her head at him to cover the tiny pink blush rising up her cheeks. "Not in the slightest. You're still my least favorite person."

He chuckles as he twists the doorknob and pulls the door open. "I know." He turns one last time, winking at her before leaving.

She's about to head home for work when a snow owl that reminds her of Hedwig sweeps through her open window and drops a piece of paper right in front of her before taking off again. She furrows her eyebrows as the owl continues out in the sky until it's out of sight.

Next week. One O'clock. 'Ole Irish Pub. It's a date.

-Barty

She tries to hide her smile, but realizes a moment later that no one is watching her. "You're never giving up, are you?" She grins, shaking her head as she tucks the note into the pocket of her coat and finally heads home.

… To Be Continued…

...

Author's Note: I had originally thought this story would be a one-shot, but it turned out a lot longer than I thought. So it might be a three-shot, including a short epilogue and a few other things I want to mention in this fic. I really hope this fic was entertaining for all of you. And if it was, leave a review, aye? I'll be updating soon.

-McDiggin'It