Author Names: joanna and whatapotter
Houses: Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff
Title: Like Father, Like Son
Word length: 489 words, and 496 words
Warnings: None
The scene that the drabbles are based on: The scene between Barty Crouch Sr. and Jr. where Barty Crouch Jr. kills his father.
The two characters: Barty Crouch Senior, Barty Crouch Junior

joanna's drabble:

So it’s time then, Son. I see you are surprised to see me here. Yes, I was able to thwart your master. And I knew we would soon stand face to face. I knew it would come to this; I knew it the day I brought you home from Azkaban. I know you don’t understand why I have done the things I did, but I always had your best at my heart. Even when you were sentenced, it was for your best, Son. You had to see the error of your ways. But you still don’t see it. I can see it in your eyes, even if they are the eyes of someone else. I can see that you have been waiting for this moment. I have been waiting for it too. No father should see the things you had done and live with the thought that his good name was dragged through the mud. No father should live with the knowledge that he conceived a monster.

I don’t know where we went wrong with you. I know that I always taught you to respect the name you wore, to respect your father and mother who gave life to you. I taught you that with that name came responsibility. Responsibility which you always seemed to avoid. Oh, your mother said that we should leave you alone and that you would become a fine young man once you have calmed down, but I doubted her. I knew I should have been harder on you while you were at school. You spent too much time befriending the wrong people instead of studying for your career. You could have been a famous Auror, Son, one like you impersonate now. I could have taught you so much, but you chose another teacher. You chose a master to serve above a father to respect!

I know this pain, Son. It’s no stranger to me. It was no stranger to me either when your master came and tortured me. I might be screaming now, but my thoughts are clear. I fought this curse many a time before you were even born. But you never appreciated what I had accomplished. You never respected me and you still don’t. A respectful son would have killed his father right away - not torture him for the fun of it. Oh, I know you would like me to beg for my life! But your wish is futile. I never have and I certainly won’t do it now. I wish you had the courage to end it, but you never have been courageous. You are a mere monster, and I’m ashamed to have fathered a son like you.

I hear someone coming. Well, that will end this. And though you might think that you won this battle between us, you are wrong, Son. For in the end, this act will lead to your doom, and I die with this assurance.

whatapotter's drabble:

So, Father, it has come to this. You and me, with only my wand between us. How I have wished for this day. How I have dreamed! All those long days and nights that I spent locked away in Hell. Those endless, torturous days, where night seemed day and day seemed night and both were indistinguishable from the next and the next… And the pain, the memories... They twisted and clawed and ravished through my skull so much that I wondered if I still lived. Yes, even with breath upon my lips I wondered whether it was real, whether I was still real. And the real twist, the real catch to this story, Father, is that you did all this to me. You! You dared to look at me with such disappointment in your eyes, and in the next second you sentenced me to Hell. As if I betrayed you! Bastard! Was that look conceived, Father? Was it pretence? Were you? Sometimes I wonder if I ever knew you at all.

Well, it hardly matters now. All that is important now is your life in my hands. Is that terror I see in your eyes, Father? Do you cringe from me? Your own son. Do you, perhaps, wonder where you went wrong, what error you took in life to raise such a monster? Well, think again, Father. The only monster standing between us is you - Your arrogance, your pride, your bloody name! You would sacrifice the world for your name. Well you sacrificed me, anyway. Or maybe it was just that I wasn’t your world. Well, who bloody cares anyway! I certainly don’t! I have found my way, Father, I have found my teacher. And what a teacher he is. You thought yourself such a disciplinarian, you thought to drill intelligence into my skull, and when I didn’t turn out to be your own carbon-copy, you abandoned me. Well, Father, I wonder if you’ll be impressed with how much I’ve learned now.

Oh, it feels good! I’ve waited too long for this, waited too long to see you writhing at my feet. Will you plead, Father? Oh, how I wish you beg for your life! It hurts, doesn’t it, Father? Oh, I know how it hurts – my Master is not easy to please. Are you still defiant? Even twitching and screaming at my feet, do you still believe yourself superior? Oh, yes, you do – I see it now. Your arrogance knows no bounds, Father. I must remedy that…

Someone’s coming. Our time together must be cut short. It’s fitting really – you brought me into this world, now I shall send you from it. Will you die on the floor at my feet, Father? Where the Hell is your precious dignity now? Merlin, you repulse me. I’m ashamed to be of your blood, Father. Ha! I suppose it’s some twisted irony that the moment we agree on something is the moment of your death.

Goodbye, Father.