An: Sorry but no matter what I do I can't help but picture Barty as David Tennant, the man played the part perfectly and now I can't see anyone else more suited to the role. Because of this, my Barty might have come out a bit like the Doctor. Hopefully not to much but I can just see them having a lot in common, manic grin, gleaming eyes, dishevelled hair and boundless energy. Besides David Tennant is gorgeous and doubly so as the Doctor. I have never been more envious of Harry than I am in Harry/Barty fics =D Plus we never got to see much of Barty's real personality in the books so I'm basically treating him like an OC and modelling that OC on the Doctor.

Let me know whether or not I should continue writing this.

Thanks!

Hanna xoxo

Previously…

"Who are you?" Harry asked, trying to get a grasp of the conversation.

"Oh, I do apologise." Said the man with a roguish grin that made Harry's heart stutter before resuming its beating at double the speed. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Barty Crouch Junior."

Chapter Two

Harry's eyes narrowed. That wasn't possible.

"Barty Crouch Junior is dead." He said in a steely voice. "Now tell me, who are you?"

That grin just widened and Harry felt himself harden slightly.

"Oh, I assure you, I am very much alive." The man's eyes had almost a manic gleam and Harry couldn't help but wish that look was directed at him.

"Show me your arm." Harry commanded. Barty Crouch Jr. had been a Death Eater and the Dark Mark couldn't be faked.

"Excuse me?" The man's brows furrowed and he looked genuinely confused.

"Your left forearm." Harry barked, unwilling to let his guard down until he knew what was going on. "If you're Crouch Jr. show me your Dark Mark."

The man looked a Harry appraisingly, they were at an impasse. Both unsure of the others loyalty and so were unsure of how much was safe to reveal. Slowly and with obviously reluctance, the man reached out with his right hand to push up his left sleeve exposing the faded Dark Mark to the cool night air.

Harry cautiously moved closer and gripped the man's forearm, thumb brushing over the skull. Before the man knew what had happened, Harry had his wand tip pressed against the Mark and was hissing in a way the man had only ever heard from his Lord before.

"Burn."

The resulting fiery sensation forced the man to his knees and he had to bit his lip to keep in his gasp of pain.

"Are you loyal?" Harry hissed out in English, sounding more like his father in that moment than ever before.

"Yes. Always." The man gasped out. Harry gave the Mark another hissed instruction and the burning stopped.

"Good." He said in an almost friendly voice. "Now then." Harry tugged on the man's arm lightly, encouraging him to stand, which he did so slowly and on slightly shaken legs. Harry pulled Hermione's wand out of the man's pocket and held it out for the man to take in his left hand. Once the man had hold of it, Harry tapped his own wand once more against the Mark. Barty gaped and blinked in a slightly dazed manner as it pulsed, he'd never felt his Mark do that before. Only a second later Barty's face split into a wide grin and he felt the long awaited and much missed call of his Lord.

"There we go." Murmured Harry. "The mother ship is calling you home." He chuckled at the confused look on the man's face. "Never mind. Just a few things then you can go to him. We need to stop those fools from doing further damage but we must make sure I'm not implicated in the process. Now, I'm going cast a spell with your wand then you're going to stun me and apparate before anyone else gets here. Is that clear?"

Barty just nodded, too overwhelmed by what this beautiful child had done for him to answer verbally.

"Good boy." Harry, still gripping Barty's left forearm turned until his back was against the older man's chest. He slowly moved his hand down the forearm and placed it over Barty's so that it was gripping the wand with him. Barty willed his body not to react to that lithe form pressed against him.

Harry pointed the wand in the air, whispered 'morsmordre' and, before the Mark had even finished forming, spun out of Barty's arms and was facing him again. Barty pointed the wand at the youth.

"Give him my love." Harry said with a cheeky grin, just milliseconds before that red light hit him and darkness claimed him.

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When he woke again it was to the concerned faces of the blood traitors, Harry barely held in his grimace.

"How are you feeling, Harry dear?" Mrs Weasley asked, her tone was kind but Harry could see the greed in her eyes. It made him want to gut her like a fucking fish.

"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley." He replied in the sweetest tone he could muster. "Thank you for asking."

"What happened, Harry?" The mudblood demanded in that bossy, know-it-all voice of hers. He could already see her wondering how he had gotten himself into another mess.

"I- I don't know." Harry lied. "I was walking at the back of the group when someone grabbed me from behind. I was knocked out before I could react. Where was I found?"

"You were found underneath the Dark Mark, Harry!" The bitch ranted, he was right, she thought it was his own fault. "You're lucky the Aurors didn't take your head off! When they see the Dark Mark they shoot first, ask questions later!"

"What's the Dark Mark?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side. It was annoying having to pretend not to know these things but it made life easier in the long run. He really didn't want to have to come up with whole new lies as to how he knew them.

"It's You-Know-Who's sign, mate." Ron whispered from beside him. "It was always found above places where the Death Eaters had killed someone. When we saw you lying underneath it, for a moment we thought you were dead."

Even whispered, it was obvious from Ron's tone that he wouldn't have been too bothered, had this been the case. Harry had never been a person to Ron, just a walking Galleon sign. Mrs Weasley was the same, he knew full well that she'd intended for him to marry Ginny and marry her young. If he, as an orphan, had married before he came of age then he'd have become a ward of his spouse if they were older than him, or a ward of his spouse's family if he was older, giving the parents full access to his inheritance as they became his legal guardians.

That had been Molly Weasley's intention from the second Dumbledore had approached her about befriending the Boy-Who-Lived. After all, the young saviour needed the right kind or friends and who better to represent the light than the heroic half-blood, the poor pureblood and the intelligent mudblood? Thank Salazar the woman didn't know he was gay or she'd have had him married to Ron by now. With that thought Harry barely repressed his gag reflex.

"I-I didn't know that." Harry murmured, slightly unsure as to what his reaction should be. "What does it look like?"

Mr Weasley looked at Harry with sympathy, obviously assuming that Harry was thinking about his biological parents and wondering if it was above their home. Whenever Voldemort was mentioned or anything to do with him, everyone seemed to automatically assume he'd start thinking about them. Was he really supposed to still be grieving? It had been thirteen years and it's not like he remembered them, he had all the parent he could ever need in the Dark Lord. Not that he could tell anyone yet though.

"It's a skull." He said factually. "With a snake coming out of it mouth."

Harry couldn't resist a snort. "Sounds like all it needs are flames and it could be a biker tattoo."

"Harry! That isn't funny!" Hermione shrieked at the same time everyone else wondered what a 'biker' was.

"Sorry, Hermione." He muttered, hoping that if he was quiet his expiration would be less obvious. Merlin, he wished he could find an excuse to go home but there was nothing that would be believable. No one would believe he'd willingly return to a place were he was supposed to be abused.

Harry knew that even once his father's return was announced it would still be a few years before they could acknowledge each other as anything other than enemies. He couldn't wait for that day to come. And with it the death of everyone who'd ever annoyed him. Starting with that fucking mudblood.

Harry wasn't sure how they'd managed to get him back to the Burrow while he was unconscious but he honestly didn't care enough to ask. At least they weren't in that mouldy tent anymore. It smelt like cats, it was like being back at Mrs Figg's. How many times had he come close to kicking one of those cats? Harry wondered as he packed his trunk. They were heading back to Hogwarts in a few days time and Harry hated the thought of leaving something behind in the Weasley home, they'd probably sell it as soon as they found it.

The morning of September first passed smoothly enough. Of course they were almost late for the train but that was to be expected when you had to wait for Ron to wake up enough to figure out how to put his fucking trousers on. Fucking moron. Harry wanted to smack him sometimes and he honestly didn't think anyone would blame him if he did, even the light sided idiots that were following Dumbledore like sheep. Why Ron Weasley wasn't drowned at birth was absolutely beyond him. He was the type of person only a mother could love; his siblings certainly didn't like him.

The only thing that had happened and kept Harry's interest for more than a second was the fire-call from Amos Diggory. Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody's home had been broken into the night before, or at least so he'd claimed, everyone else thought it was probably just cats that got a bit too close to the wards, however Harry knew better. But that left him with one question running repeatedly through his mind and he had no answer for it.

Why Alastor Moody? It was supposed to be a student replaced with a Death Eater. If a student hated Harry Potter, people could assume it was a petty childish grudge born out of jealously. It was easy to brush aside if a student didn't like him, but a teacher? Snape's hatred for James Potter was legendary among the older Hogwarts teaching staff, everyone had expected him to hold that grudge against Harry. But anyone else? Especially someone like Moody, who was supposed to hate dark wizards with a passion? It would be glaringly obvious that something was off if someone like Moody was displaying intense dislike for the Boy-Who-Lived.

A Death Eater teacher would make things a whole lot easier, especially if it was someone Dumbledore trusted, they'd never be suspected, but the only people available for such a long term undercover position were people who wouldn't be missed. That meant they could only choose from those few Death Eaters that had escaped Azkaban by running. There weren't many of them as most of the Death Eaters that avoided Azkaban had done so by denying the Dark Lord, and they were now known to be lining the pockets of the Ministry fat cats, making sure no laws were passed that they didn't want passed and vice versa. It would be noticed if one of them disappeared for the year.

This left them with only those Death Eaters in hiding, the ones that refused to even pretend to denounce their Lord. Basically, it left the fanatical ones to choose from. And even the most obedient of them would struggle to hold their tongue around the child that had brought about the destruction of their Lord and their lives.

Did this mean whoever it was knew the truth about Harry? But that was impossible. Voldemort wouldn't have given out that kind of information, he wouldn't have taken the risk that maybe, just maybe, that person wasn't as loyal as they thought.

Harry got his answer during the welcoming feast. The sorting took place as normal followed by the feast, which was no where near as good as the food done by the house elves in Slytherin Manor. Elves really did work harder when they were living in fear. Then came the speech, Harry tried not growl, just the sound of that manipulative old man set Harry's teeth on edge. He tried to look surprised a long with everyone else when the Tri-Wizard Tournament was announced when in reality he'd know since he'd first got home for the summer. He barely repressed his shiver as he thought of all the mayhem this year was going to bring.

It was just as Dumbledore was about to discuss this years DADA professor when the doors were thrown open, the almighty crash that accompanied them causing several first years and Hufflepuffs as far as the eye could see to scream in terror. Harry and Ron couldn't stop laughing at them. As much as Harry despised the redhead sitting next to him there was always one thing Ron could be counted on to do, mock others. His jibes never had the same level of bite or wit as Harry's but what could he do? It not like his father was here to enjoy this with him.

Harry watched with undisguised curiosity as the man who had caused the disruption entered the Hall. His hair was grey and rather unkempt, his face was weather-beaten and riddled with scars and every time he took a step the Hall could head the resounding clunk of what could only be a wooden leg. But it was the man underneath this polyjuiced disguise that Harry wanted to see. Who did his father trust so much as to place him in such a precarious position?

It definitely wasn't the real Moody, the shape of the aura indicated that the man was taller than Moody and leaner. There was something familiar about it that Harry just couldn't place, the answer just skirting around the edge of his awareness. Harry watched, slightly baffled, as the man scanned the Gryffindor table with his magical eye. Was he looking for Harry? Harry waited with baited breath as that eye settled on him, he half expected a curse to come flying at him. He was going to be having words with his father when he got to bed later that night. Warning was appreciated!

Harry was stunned as the man sent him a wink. He couldn't help but return the roguish grin, he'd recognise that expression anywhere, even on the wrong face. He had, after all, seen it in the shower everyday for the last week. Even now he couldn't help the twitch his cock gave, closely followed by a shudder. He shouldn't be able to be attracted to Crouch in that body, it was just weird.

Harry blanked his expression as he pretended to listen to the rest of the speech, watching 'Moody', surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye as the man devoured a plate of sausages. He didn't know whether to kill his father or kiss him. Heir to the dark empire, Harry might be but he was also a teenage boy. A teenage boy with raging hormones and now the only person in this whole bloody castle he could be himself with was someone he found undeniably attractive. He'd either entered Hell or Heaven and it was going to be fun to find out which.

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Harry tried not to rush on his way to the DADA classroom, he wanted to know what had been going sine he last saw his father and if the plans had changed any more than just a different inside man. He checked the Marauder's Map again, making sure Crouch was alone in his room before he knocked on the door. It opened almost instantly to reveal the scarred face of Alastor Moody, he'd obviously been warned to expect a visit. That revolving eye immediately focused on Harry's face and Barty stepped aside. With the door closed and a silencing ward in place, Barty was down on one knee before Harry had even removed the cloak.

"Young Lord." He whispered in reverence, Harry inwardly rolled his eyes.

"Stand, Barty." Harry said, grabbing the man's elbow to help him, movement obviously wasn't as easy while in the form of a sixty year old with one leg. "You are going to be my only decent company for the next year. I'd prefer it if we were on more informal terms than 'Lord'. Call me Harry."

"Harry." Barty said, testing the word on his tongue before giving that infectious grin again causing Harry to chuckle. "Well then, Harry, follow me and please make yourself comfortable while I freshen up. Old Moody's clothes seem to be older than me and in about the same condition as this face."

Harry chuckled again and followed him through the door into his office and then on into his quarters. It was surprisingly nice if a bit bland but then Barty had only just got there, he'd probably add his own personal touches, though not too personal. He was supposed to be someone else after all. The room was decorated with warms colours of coffee and chocolate and the odd dash of creamy beige.

It was about ten minutes before Barty joined Harry on the couch, looking more like the man Harry had been thinking about for the last week. His dark blonde, almost brown hair was now cut short though it still held a sense of wildness about it, much like Harry's hair. Harry could almost imagine running his fingers through it as he rode… no, he shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts.

Barty was wearing a brown pinstripe suit that was considerably nicer than Moody's battle-worn rags. It was stylishly cut to flatter his trim figure and Harry couldn't help but imagine the feel of those strong but lean muscles.

"So…" Barty started and Harry wondered just which question he'd ask first, knowing the man must be full of them and wouldn't have dared ask the Dark Lord. "The great Harry Potter, defeater of the Dark Lord, became said Dark Lord's son and heir. How on Earth did that happen?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the question and the amount of curiosity in Barty's eyes as he asked it. It must have been killing him not to know. Typical Ravenclaw. He briefly toyed with the idea of not telling him but Harry really wanted this to be an easy friendship between them and that couldn't happen if Harry pulled rank and used this to tease the Death Eater. Normally Harry wouldn't care. He only had two emotional attachments in this world, to Voldemort and Nagini, and that was more than enough for him.

But as much as he hated to admit it, he got lonely during term time. He could only visit Slytherin Manor during the summer and the rest of the time he was stuck with those morons in Gryffindor Tower. But now Barty was here, he would probably end up being Harry's saving grace this year. He'd have intelligent conversation, he wouldn't have to be fake all the time and he'd have someone to go to when he wanted to be himself. He could have kicked himself for such sentimental thoughts but he was only fourteen and genuine company would be nice.

"Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?" Harry asked. Barty gave him a look, obviously unsure with how seriously to take the question.

"Are you serious?" He raised an eyebrow in question. Harry could practically hear his thoughts, how does someone accidentally find the worst enemy? Or at least something to that extent. Harry laughed again.

"Yes, I'm serious." Harry said. When Barty realised he wasn't going to elaborate further he couldn't help but make a noise of impatience while gesturing for him to continue. Harry gave an exaggerated sigh but did as he was asked. "I was four years old and living with my muggle relatives but they'd gone away for the weekend…"

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Review

I'm sorry to everyone that reviewed this story and fave'd it etc but I got a rather mean PM about this message not long after the first chapter went up and it completely put me off even trying to finish it. However, this was already written before the first chapter went up over a year ago and I've not read either chapter since I got that PM so please excuse any mistakes. I just thought for those that really liked chap 1 might want to see chap 2, maybe you can inspire me… or maybe I just wanted to clear out my hard drive without completely losing anything =P

Hanna xoxo