“Probably killed some chap that she once passed on the train or something equally as stupid,” he offered up, chewing on his lip and digging his nails into his palm. “If you’re taking the girl then I want one of the boys, and while we’re picking the red heads off, I think we should pay Malfoy and his kid a visit.”
He suspected that they were going to band together to try to stop them, try to put an end to their depraved activities, their fun. He crinkled his nose at the thought of them taking a stab at it. It was annoying. He deserved to play if he wanted to play; after how he’d spent the past few years, it was his right.
Trial? He supposed that the trial had been fun. The look on his father’s face, the way that he gaped at him, there was nothing that could compare. He wished that his father were here to see him again, to be so deliciously shocked at what his own son had turned into. If his father were here, he could kill him a second time. He could make it last longer than he had on school grounds.
“I want the little, new Malfoy, since we should safe the older one for our Master. If I can’t kill that one then I want the baby.” He had no familiarity with Scorpius, held no grudge against him, had never seen him in his life. And yet, he still wanted him.
“They don’t like him anymore. He’ll see that we’re his true friends. Sooner or later.” And then they could hold the rat up by his tail and feed him bread and cheese and pat him on the head when he was good. Barty wanted to pet the rat and dangle him above the cat’s face, see if he squeaked.
He peered down at the victim on the ground. His mouth was open, he was going to scream. Barty smiled at him, ran his tongue along the top row of teeth. “Because we’re loyal. And we can find the dog. We should look in the park. Dogs like parks. Or near a dumpster. They sometimes eat out of those.”
Withering, withering like a worm. Poor worm. Barty held out his wand, uttered the same word that Bellatrix had used and watched him shake harder. Soon, they would need more.