- Rating:
- PG
- House:
- The Dark Arts
- Characters:
- Lord Voldemort
- Genres:
- Drama Angst
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Stats:
-
Published: 09/02/2003Updated: 09/02/2003Words: 536Chapters: 1Hits: 174
- Posted:
- 09/02/2003
- Hits:
- 174
Paternoster
"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!"
~Barty Crouch Jr. chapter 30 Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
The only reason my father loved me was because of my mother. Well, perhaps I should say the only reason he lived with me, supported me and even saved me from prison was my mother. She was the reason he came back.
For years I was living a half life. It was better than the dementors. Far better than Azkaban. Life there was. Well, that's a thought I don't like to. Never mind. Back to father. He saved me. But, for what; to live in his house, never leaving always knowing that I was being controlled by the man who put me away, he never cared. The man who had took my life away. He admonished the dementors that we rot in prison. I was no son of his, may I rot in Azkaban. He had sent me to that soulless place filled with horrors a man should never know. A man should never know it. But, what about a boy, that's all I was. And it's always cold in Azkaban, the cold permeates your bones. Even in front of a fire all I felt was a bleak and biting cold and a walking dead. Until the day my Lord came.
The day he came I was with my father. He was reading by the fire. I was in the chair thinking nothing. Then a knock on the door my father in my mind telling me to get my cloak and hide, of course I acquiesced. Then I felt it. I was alive he had come for me! The table had turned. Now my father was under Imperius and I was blissfully alive. The first time I was truly alive since being sent away to prison. My Lord had come for me! Bellatrix said that he would come for us. And so he did; a father always comes for his son. My salvation did not come to prison to free me from the treacheries of the dementors. My father did that but, it wasn't salvation it was trading one for of prison for another. My true salvation was coming to the door of my father's house. In the arms of another, my true father, came to me at the witching hour. He did to my father what my father had done to me. Then I knew. I knew that all was better. I was back with my lord and he would be to me what my father never could. I would do for him what he wanted. I would be his dearest. I would be his beloved.
Later I killed the man who would be my father, the man who answered to my name. I have never felt more satisfied than I did at that moment. I once told Harry Potter that there was nothing worse than a Death Eater gone free. Actually something is worse, a father who doesn't love his son. No matter, I have a new father now and I will make sure he loves me best of all.
Yes, I was involved and I don't regret it. I never will.
"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!"
~Barty Crouch Jr. chapter 30 Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
The only reason my father loved me was because of my mother. Well, perhaps I should say the only reason he lived with me, supported me and even saved me from prison was my mother. She was the reason he came back.
For years I was living a half life. It was better than the dementors. Far better than Azkaban. Life there was. Well, that's a thought I don't like to. Never mind. Back to father. He saved me. But, for what; to live in his house, never leaving always knowing that I was being controlled by the man who put me away, he never cared. The man who had took my life away. He admonished the dementors that we rot in prison. I was no son of his, may I rot in Azkaban. He had sent me to that soulless place filled with horrors a man should never know. A man should never know it. But, what about a boy, that's all I was. And it's always cold in Azkaban, the cold permeates your bones. Even in front of a fire all I felt was a bleak and biting cold and a walking dead. Until the day my Lord came.
The day he came I was with my father. He was reading by the fire. I was in the chair thinking nothing. Then a knock on the door my father in my mind telling me to get my cloak and hide, of course I acquiesced. Then I felt it. I was alive he had come for me! The table had turned. Now my father was under Imperius and I was blissfully alive. The first time I was truly alive since being sent away to prison. My Lord had come for me! Bellatrix said that he would come for us. And so he did; a father always comes for his son. My salvation did not come to prison to free me from the treacheries of the dementors. My father did that but, it wasn't salvation it was trading one for of prison for another. My true salvation was coming to the door of my father's house. In the arms of another, my true father, came to me at the witching hour. He did to my father what my father had done to me. Then I knew. I knew that all was better. I was back with my lord and he would be to me what my father never could. I would do for him what he wanted. I would be his dearest. I would be his beloved.
Later I killed the man who would be my father, the man who answered to my name. I have never felt more satisfied than I did at that moment. I once told Harry Potter that there was nothing worse than a Death Eater gone free. Actually something is worse, a father who doesn't love his son. No matter, I have a new father now and I will make sure he loves me best of all.
Yes, I was involved and I don't regret it. I never will.