In Too Far: Volume One

Summary: Set when Voldemort is at the height of his powers. A girl gets drawn into the world of Barty Crouch Jr. and his involvement with the Death Eaters. By the time she realises what this could mean, is it too late for her to back out? Barty/OC and OC/OC. Rated T for possible language and mild sexual content.

A/N: My first attempt at HP fanfiction. Hope it goes alright.

Disclaimer: All things recognisable are J K Rowling's. Gwen and her parents are mine.

Chapter One

Gwen Coulthard slumped at her desk, gazing forlornly at the clock on the wall. The seconds ticked slowly by, each one seeming to take longer than the last. Come on, she thought, ten more minutes and I can go home. On the opposite wall, fluorescent blue writing kept materialising on the white plaster then vanishing, only to be replaced as the share prices were updated. Apollo Broomsticks -0.05%, Rynmorak Crystal Corp. +0.01%, Dragon Breeders of Algeria -1.02%... Her client companies were displayed in red, and she was disappointed to note that both HiSpeedFloo and Transatlantic Owl Services were showing a decrease in share price. Her clients wouldn't be happy. Nor would the goblin down the hallway be if he knew she'd been sat here doing nothing for the past half hour, but with the markets in the state that they were at the moment, there really wasn't a lot she could do.

She sighed and got up to cross to the window, from which she could look out onto the rooftops of Diagon Alley below. Gringotts was by far the biggest building for quite a few miles, having several upper storeys to house the offices for its commercial and investment banking teams in addition to its vast network of underground vaults. Gwen was on the third floor, meaning she was high up enough to look down on the street below, but not so high that she couldn't make out the details. It was almost five o' clock, meaning about half the shops would be closing for trade soon, while the others would probably shut in about an hour. She noticed there were quite a few parents with teenagers still out shopping, and she suspected they were getting last minute equipment for the return to Hogwarts in a few days. Looking round a bit more, she could see a couple sat beneath the veranda outside Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour, enjoying what appeared to be a large peach melba in the August sunshine. Merlin, what she wouldn't give for a peach melba right now…

No, there was no point thinking about ice cream. She ought to be worrying about what she was going to say to the Executive Director of Transatlantic Owls in their meeting tomorrow, when he wanted to know why they weren't going to be able to press ahead with their Icelandic project. Well, if he was smart, he wouldn't need to ask. Since You-Know-Who's supporters had started hijacking companies, market confidence had plummeted. Nobody wanted to invest in anything. The stock exchange had ground to a halt. There was no way to raise funds for anything, and really she thought she should advise the XD to pull the plug on his project now, before things got even worse.

He probably wouldn't listen to her though. Few people did. They just saw the twenty year old daughter of one of Gringotts senior executives, who'd gotten the job of junior investment advisor purely through nepotism and not through merit. Her eight O's at NEWT level didn't count for anything. All that mattered was that her parents had high standing, so they must surely favour an incompetent daughter. She scowled at the thought. She may not be anything spectacular, but she wasn't incompetent. To say she'd only been in this job two years she was pretty damn good at it. Maybe she didn't put much of an effort in at times, but when it came down to it she definitely knew what she was doing. She'd even gotten a promotion to Project Coordinator last month, and everybody had been pretty congratulatory about it to her face. But she knew what they were saying behind her back. "It's only because her dad's started getting friendly with Barty Crouch…If her family weren't so well connected they'd give that position to someone who deserved it."

It had almost made her cry after overhearing that. Just thinking about it now, she could feel tears beginning to prick at her eyes. She did deserve it, dammit. And if the markets weren't in such a sorry state right now she'd be able to show them that. But in the current climate, even the best outcomes were still pretty bad.

She glanced back at the clock on the wall. It was 4:58. Only two minutes off 5:00. That was close enough, wasn't it? She considered just trying to make a break for it now, but the goblin, Semog, who managed the group of offices on this floor, was a rather strict and intimidating boss and she'd rather not risk getting caught. She could wait a couple more minutes.

She turned back to the window, just in time to see the couple outside Florean Fortescue's get up to leave. She was just considering going for an ice cream on her way home when an owl flew up and landed on the window ledge. Recognising it immediately, Gwen rolled her eyes. Why did her mother insist on sending her owls at work when she may as well just leave a note at home?

She opened the window to collect her letter, giving the owl an affectionate stroke. "Hello, Eric. What're you doing flying all the way up here to see me? I'll be home soon you know." He cocked his head at her as if to say, I'm delivering your letter. What do you think I'm doing? She smiled and turned back into the room to read the letter, but Eric stayed perched on the window ledge, watching her expectantly. She gave him a funny look, "What?" He turned his head slightly, and she followed his gaze to the bowl of cockroach clusters she kept on her desk. Chuckling to herself, she fed him one and then watched as he flew off happily, leaving her alone in her office. The clock now showed it had gone past five o' clock now, but she wasn't too bothered. She may as well read the letter before leaving.

Dear Gwen,

I won't be home when you get in as I'm going to Miranda Bones' to get ready for the party. I've just been informed it's highly likely the Minister for Magic will be there, so I've bought you a new dress to wear tonight – it's hung on the back of your door.

Sorry I won't be able to arrive with you and your father, but Mr. Crouch has asked to meet with those of us in the MLE Dept. before the party starts. It's all about work, work, work with him, but I'm afraid I have to agree to it.

There'll be food at the party, but if you want a bit of something to eat before you go out I've left you a cheese tart on the kitchen table.

Love, Mum x

Gwen finished the letter and leaned back in her chair, grimacing. Why mum? Why did you have to buy me a new dress? It'll look horrible on me, they always do. Memories flooded into her head of her fifth year at Hogwarts, when her date to the Yule Ball – a Gryffindor boy who'd only agreed to take her following an argument with his girlfriend – had actually been embarassed to be seen with her in her pale blue floral patterned dress. He'd been back with his girlfriend before the night was over and she'd been left partnerless and humiliated.

She cringed at the memory. Blouses, suit trousers and smart black robes were the only things she ever felt comfortable in. Things that looked professional and didn't draw attention to her complete lack of a womanly figure. She didn't do dressing up for social occasions. Her social ineptitude was only made even worse by attempting to walk in high heels or show off in a dress she actually felt ridiculous in. There wasn't even much point in her going to this party, she'd only feel awkward and out of place. She supposed she could always just feign an illness to get out of it altogether, but that would only disappoint both her parents.

Gwen sighed and got up to leave. She couldn't be bothered with the ice cream now; she'd just use the fireplaces in the foyer and go straight home. It would take her ages to get ready for this party if she wanted to look even vaguely presentable, so she may as well start as soon as possible.

Note: If anyone reviews this, I may respond with a brief note at the end of the next chapter instead of via PM if a) the reviewer is anonymous; or b) if a reviewers raises a point and I feel the response is something all readers would care to hear. If the notes ever get so long or the reviewers too numerous, I'll stop.