Who: Barty and Bayleigh Crouch What: Father/Daughter Bonding When: Sunday, 5 December 2000; Late Afternoon/Evening Where: Minister's Manor Warnings: None foreseeable.
Barty had certainly not needed a house elf to point out to him that his daughter was most certainly upset over something. He'd heard her outburst--that had been going on for a while now--from his study where he was finding he spent most of his time as of late. For the first bit of it, he had been intent on not trying to nose into her business, knowing that, at that age, he had preferred such treatment. However, after even the elf had come in--"Master Barty, the Mistress is setting her room on fire, methinks!"--to inform him of the situation, he figured it was time to at least offer his fatherly expertise.
Rubbing his yes with the heels of his palms, Barty Disapparated from the solace of his study to the hall outside of Bayleigh's wing. Making his way to her room, he noted that he could quite understand why the elves had been concerned. The volume had increased exponentially and there was certainly destruction going on inside of her chambers. He knocked loudly on her door, hooking one thumb into his pocket. "Bay? It's me. Open up." His voice was not overly concerned, nor did it sound like he was put off by the disturbance. He was reserving judgment over the situation for when he knew what the whole ordeal was all about.