Collected

"The name is in the book, Albus. Just because we don't know who she is doesn't mean that we can't let her into the school," Minerva McGonagall said as she paced the round office, an impossibly thick book in her hands.

"I'm quite aware, Minerva, that was never my plan. I am simply confused, is all."

The Wizarding community may have been large, but it was tight-knit. Everybody knew about big families and the children they had. It was a very rare occurrence to not know of a child in Hogwarts. Rare and suspicious.

"Well," the witch smirked. "There is a first time for everything. Perhaps we should talk to Barty about her. Surely, he must know something."

The white-haired man sighed, standing up and straightening his robes before walking to the fireplace. He reached into a small dish beside it, picking up a handful of powder, then stepped in and allowed Minerva to do the same.

"Ministry of Magic, Suite two-forty-three," he enunciated clearly, and the two spun off, landing in one of the many Ministry of Magic ports. The two wizards stepped out, dusting themselves off, and found a young woman staring at them, eyebrows knit together.

"Mr. Crouch is in a meeting. Do you have an appointment?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "We do not. However, the matter is important."

"We can wait," Minerva stated, and they both wandered the office as they did. The secretary watched them carefully, knowing who they were, as she went to Hogwarts herself years ago.

After twenty minutes, a door opened, and tall man who could be easily recognized as Ludo Bagman walked out, followed by Barty Crouch, Sr.

He waved at his colleague, then set his eyes on the two professors and frowned. "Dumbledore, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked formally, gesturing to his office.

They all situated themselves, and the old wizard wasted no time with small talk, though he did take a Jelly Belly from a tray on the desk.

"It has come to our attention that there is a name listed in the book that neither Professor McGonagall nor myself recognize."

"And, when you say the book, you mean--"

"The book of every wizard born," Minerva clarified.

Barty nodded. "Yes, well, wouldn't the Minister himself be more suited to answer your questions, then?"

Dumbledore shook his head, steapling his fingers. "I don't believe so. We came to you for a reason, Barty."

"And, what reason would that be?"

He looked to the severe woman beside him, and McGonagall held up the book they were speaking of, the page marked by one of her long fingers. She set it in front of the official, pointing to the child in question. "She has your surname, Barty."

Isola Jayne Crouch--18.8.80

"I-- I don't know of this girl. None of my relatives have had any children, and Bartemius never settled down," he spat the name, like it wasn't his own.

"He may have never settled down, but he could have still--"

McGonagall was cut off by an irritated Crouch Sr.-- "You think that, that abomination of a son would be able to convince a woman to sleep with him?"

The witch flinched, but Dumbledore stayed stoic as always, eying Barty through his half-moon spectacles. "It would explain her sudden appearance."

"Well, talk to him in bloody Azkaban, if you're so curious! I've got work to do."

The professors nodded, understanding, and stood up, showing themselves out. They took the floo back to Hogwarts, and once back, Minerva asked, "Do you think we should talk to his son?"

Dumbledore raised a hand, waving the idea off. "He's been in Azkaban for some months. He's more than likely experiencing psychosis at this point."

The witch huffed but did not press the matter, setting the book back down on the shelf where it normally sat. "Well, perhaps all of this will be sorted in eight years when Isola Crouch arrives at Hogwarts."



Isola's early childhood was different from most kids'-- not just muggles, but magical children as well. Bartemius did as the Dark Lord commanded and watched over her, even at such a young age himself.

He grew very attached over the few years, doing his research and finding out that the Fenwick's had, had her on August 18th, 1980. Iris Fenwick, of course, was just another casualty of war. Nobody knew of Isola's true identity. She had her name legally changed by the Ministry, as Barty knew what strings to pull and who to go to for a quick, covert operation as such. She was offically a Crouch, even if the other family members weren't aware of it.

Though, he followed some of the normal child-raising techniques (reading when putting her to bed, making sure she ate healthy, letting her play with toys), he wasted no time in jumping in and teaching her about her magic and the Dark Lord. Even if she was too young to really comprehend it, it would more than likely stick with her on a subconscious level.

She was exposed to the dark lifestyle that the Death Eaters lived, though he never took her on raids with him. He did, however, bring her to meetings, passing her around and letting her get used to all of the others. She was particularly fond of Regulus Black and Bellatrix (for reasons unknown to Barty).

One might be surprised, however, to hear that Isola was not the only toddler running around Malfoy Manor during these meetings. With her was Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Weiss Macnair. They were all the same age, just a few months apart, and they got on rather nicely, though Isola had taken a liking to hitting the young Malfoy whenever she could.

She was charismatic, but everyone could see the darkness seeping into her small form, just like it was Draco's, Vincent's, Gregory's, and Weiss'. It was something that just happened to the children of death.

She was bright for her age, which was a relief. Barty wouldn't know what to do with himself had he nabbed a thick baby. She played with bewitched toys and had herself a starter wand, which was basically a wand with training wheels, something to control her magical bursts since she couldn't yet, and all in all, Barty was just very fond of the child.

She was the only thought in his twisted mind when he was finally sent to Akzaban, courtesy of that coward, Karkaroff. Barty was just shy of twenty-years-old.

There was confusion among the Death Eaters, those who were left, anyway. The Dark Lord had been vanquished in 1981, the attack on the Potters going terribly, terribly wrong. Everybody believed him to be dead and attempted to go back to their normal lives.

Then, there was the case of Isola, now without a guardian. The first suggestion had been the Malfoys, of course, as they had a stable home and another child her age, but both Narcissa and Lucius insisted that they simply could not raise another. The men of the group were much too gruff and violent to raise a young girl by themselves, and so, by popular vote, Isola was sent to live with the Carrow siblings, that way she would have both a male and female figure. As sick and evil as the Death Eaters may have been, they could at least take that much into consideration.

The first year was hard for the makeshift family, as Amycus and Alecto were a bit less than sane. Isola nearly starved for a while, but they soon got their act together and picked up where Barty had left off, teaching her the dark ways and preparing her for her future.

The Death Eaters dropped off the map as a group, but each person involved, after going on trial and either being sent to Azkaban or being granted their freedom, was marked as a Dark Wizard. Some continued to search for the Dark Lord, usually ending up captured by Aurors, but the Carrows did not, electing to lay low and raise Isola to the best of their abilities. She still spent time with the other children, visiting Malfoy Manor at least once a week to play with the small group.

When her Hogwarts letter arrived, addressed to Miss Isola Crouch, there was a small celebration, but like most dark families, they were a little less than thrilled to be sending her to a school that was headed by none other than Albus Dumbledore.



On the first of September, when Isola was eleven years old, she was dropped off at the train station by Alecto and made her way to Platform 9 ¾ by herself. She knew what to do at the barrier, but she watched a couple of others before pushing her trolley through and coming upon an enormous red train.

She grabbed her bag and the old owl Amycus had given her-- Nizbit was its name-- and climbed aboard, finding an empty compartment toward the back. She was shortly joined by Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Weiss, and the three sat silently, allowing Isola time to peer out the window and watch as parents cried and bid friendly farewell to their children.

She had never had that. The Carrows were decent enough, though they really had no business raising a child. She supposed her previous guardian hadn't either, but he had been much better, much kinder, like he actually cared for her rather than just seeing her as a burden. All the Carrows really cared about was her potential to be a great, dark witch.

She could remember Barty Crouch, Jr. much clearer than anyone gave her credit for, had spent the first three years of her life with him, and even if she had been very young, her memory did not betray her. She remembered him because she wanted to, because she couldn't let herself forget.

He had saved her from those blood-traitors, had been smart enough, even as just a boy, to pick her up and take her with him, and Isola would be forever grateful for that. Her life would have been much different had she been raised by that scum.

Unfortunately, Barty (or, Batty, as she had called him in her toddler years) wasn't around anymore. Isola knew where he was, knew what that place could do to people, and her heart ached for him. She told herself that if there was a way to get him out, she would do it, even if he was batshit crazy when the time came.

"What d'you think it'll be like?" Goyle asked, voice cracking slightly.

Isola rolled her green eyes and turned back to look at the boy. "It's going to be how everyone's told us: completely ridiculous. A school full of half-bloods and mudbloods, run by the biggest traitor or them all. What d'you expect?" She sneered, and Malfoy smirked next to her.

The train ride was long and boring. Isola wasn't even interested when the snack trolley came round. She stayed mostly quiet unless one of the boys decided to say something stupid, in which case she had no other choice but to jump in and make them sorry they'd opened their mouths at all.

Isola was a quick-witted girl with a very sharp tongue, unafraid of lashing out at people far older than her. Some would call her downright mean, but she didn't mind. Mean was what you had to be in a world like this.

At the castle, which was as enormous and enchanting as everybody had described, Albus Dumbledore gave a dull welcoming speech, gaining the applause of almost everyone. Afterward, a somber-looking witch (Porfessor Minerva McGonagall, as Isola had come to realize) stood, holding up an old, ratty hat, and began to call First Year names for the sorting.

Isola could pick out some familiar faces and families among the crowded Great Hall-- those blood-traitor Weasly's sitting at the Gryffindor table, one just a few feet away from her, Neville Longbottom-- his parents were basically the reason Barty was in Azkaban-- and Harry bloody Potter, standing not four feet from her with his messy hair and stupid scar. She couldn't help but narrow her eyes at The Boy Who Lived, looking up only when her name was called-- "Isola Crouch--" and finding that Dumbledore was staring intently at her.

With a roll of her eyes, Isola walked up to the stool and sat, letting McGonagall place the hat on her head, though it barely even touched a hair on top of it before crying out, "Slytherin!"

She nodded, and with a smirk, stood up and made her way over to the table where Malfoy and Weiss already sat.

"Well, thank goodness. Part of me didn't even think you'd end up here, after being raised like an animal. Usually, the wild brats end up in Gryffindor, so Father says," the blonde boy said with a sideways smile.

Isola glared at him. "Yeah? You want to see just how wild I can be, Draco?" She hissed, pushing the tip of her wand into his ribs.

A flicker of fear passed through his light eyes, having been hexed by her many times before, but he just swallowed and played it cool. "Don't think it'll be necessary. You've obviously passed the test, got into Slytherin."

She just rolled her eyes again, pulling her wand back and looking at the head table. She recognized Severus Snape immediately, that hooked nose and curtain of black hair making him stand out from everyone, and Isola nodded at him discreetly, having grown up around him just as the other boys around her had.

And, so she was a Slytherin. No surprises there.

Isola fit into the house perfectly, cunning, ambitious, and oh- so sly. She was intelligent and passed all of her classes with flying colors, even getting the offhand compliment from Snape. She stayed at the school for the Winter Holidays and returned to the Carrows' for Summer, and that's how it was for a few years.

Nobody knew who she truly was-- just another arrogant Slytherin girl, though Dumbledore kept an annoyingly close watch on her.

Only in Third Year did someone almost catch on to her true identity, the stolen baby of Marjorie and Benjy Fenwick, and that was the half-breed, Remus Lupin who Dumbledore had teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. He often watched her, and when she'd ask why, he would simply shake his head, muttering, "You just remind me so much of someone." He had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix during the wizarding war, so Isola was not surprised that he would have known her biological parents.

Of course, the mutt lost his job after the truth about his condition got out, which Isola was more than happy with. That was the same year that Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban, and in a strange way, that gave her hope. If someone as daft as Sirius Black could get out, why wouldn't Barty be able to?

So, she returned to the Carrows' again and spent the summer studying and practicing her spells and hexes, though she didn't have any Gryffindors to use as target practice. Alecto and Amycus were now more like roommates rather than guardian figures. They could all relate to one another better, though Isola still didn't understand why they refused to search for the Dark Lord.

"Isola, we don't even know if he's still alive," Amycus stated over dinner one evening.

"And, if somehow he is, at least now he'll likely have Pettigrew searching for him like mad. It's either the Dark Lord, or Black and Lupin for that one."

The young girl laughed, "Pettigrew on the hunt for the Dark Lord. That's very reassuring."

The three of them chuckled, unaware of the fact that Peter Pettigrew was not the only person searching. There was another, now almost thirty years old, discreetly making his way to Little Hangleton with matted hair and only two tasks in mind: One, redeem his status with Lord Voldemort, and two, find his Isola.

The following fall, Isola started her fourth year at Hogwarts, and that's when the fun began.