#Alastor = Alastor “mad-eye moody deserves to be given some respect and would be a good tribute

[kait-bait8]

I’m trying to figure out the best way to fix the “Albus Severus Problem” while sticking closely to canon and Harry’s naming conventions. I’m also trying to keep in mind the “there is nothing wrong with being in Slytherin” thing although that doesn’t seem terribly important. So I’m putting it out there:

I wrote it like this because there are too many combinations so just pick whichever one you like the best!

Reblog for bigger sample size :)

[why-are-the-evil-ones-always-hot]

Dark Paradise | | Barty Crouch Jr. X Reader

A/N yeah okay this was inevitable.

Barty Crouch Sr. was an important person in the Ministry Of Magic, which would cause people to believe that his son of the same name deserved the same respect. Oh, if only they knew the horrors that Barty Crouch Jr. had done. What he had done, caused, seen.

Well. There was someone who knew. The Dark Lord, Voldemort, previously known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, knew. The other Death Eaters knew. But there was someone in particular, someone who mattered a little more to him. Someone called Y/N.

Y/N, like Barty Jr. was a Death Eater. They weren't as mad, given, they thought that it was near impossible for anyone to be as mad as him. There was a reason why he was one of the best Death Eaters out there. Y/N made the plans, had the brains, and Barty Jr. put them into action.

They were one hell of a duo. Even Voldemort saw that.

The pair in question were, as of late, maybe getting a little too close for comfort. It was comfort to them, everyone knew that Barty was calmer around Y/N, it was a little bit obvious. Well, more than a little.

Barty's wild eyes seemed to calm around his fellow Death Eater, the usual raging brown calming to a softer, settled earthy colour. His usual habit of flicking his tongue when he was nervous or threatened all but almost disappeared. His usual manic behavior, like that of a hurricane, calmed, becoming the eye of the storm. For the moment, things were okay, he was okay, he was calm, but it wouldn't last. The hurricane wasn't over yet. Y/N brought out something in him. Something hidden beneath many layers of shields put up by years of being ignored. Oh, to be acknowledged was all he ever craved, and he never got it.

His father never wanted him. And he never wanted his father. Maybe, at one point, he had craved acceptance, begged to be noticed, desperate for some little form of affection from him. Barty Sr. never gave it.

Maybe Barty Jr. had joined the Death Eaters in hopes of finding brotherhood, companionship, and that's where he found Y/N. Wonderful, wonderful Y/N.

They, originally, fought like a Honey Badger and a Cobra. He spat venom, words that would have cut deep, but Y/N was resistant to his anger, building sturdy walls, and eventually they evened each other out, warily balancing on a old pair of tipping scales.

It was a cautious dance between them. A few steps forwards, then a fight, and they'd stalk back away, a couple steps backwards. A Vulture circling a wounded Zebra, a Hyena taking down a sick Wildebeest. He, the Vulture, waiting for Y/N, the Zebra's, fall. Y/N, the Hyena, waiting for him, the Wildebeest, to give in.

It would happen eventually, why delay? Trying to delay it was like trying to fight a Tsunami. It was inevitable.

But still, on and on they danced. Bets were placed, plans were made, they were going to get together and people knew that, it was just a matter of time.

Things spiralled downwards when Karkaroff gave Barty Jr. away. Barty tried to run- why had he been there in the first place? Barty tried to escape but Alastor Moody sent a well aimed spell and down he went, in came the guards, and restrained he was.

And off to Azkaban he went.

Voldemort had long since fallen, but that didn't mean he lost his faith. Y/N didn't either. But Y/N was never found, and ended up a professor at Hogwarts. They taught Care Of Magical Creatures, watching Harry Potter and his insignificant friends. Y/N cared not for the other two. Harry was the target.

The Triwizard Tournament came along, and so did Mad-Eye Moody. Y/N should have known that Moody wasn't actually Moody, but Y/N didn't find that out until after the first task. Y/N had headed down to the bridge where the Hungarian Horntail had plummeted. 'Moody' had insisted to join.

The two talked and eventually 'Moody' revealed himself as Barty Jr. Y/N was shocked to say the least, but then the Polyjuice wore off, and there he was, wearing a coat a few sizes too big, and all resolve crumbled an Intl each other's arms they fell. A happy reunion.

The third task came and went, Y/N went with Barty to his office, joined by Harry. Y/N watched with falcon eyes, Barty carried out the plan with a predatory quality. He had been mad before, but the Dementors had sucked any remaining sanity from his mind. That shine through and Y/N found that old feelings were resurfacing...but then again had they ever been submerged? No.

Dumbledore and Snape burst in, and down Barty went. Y/N put up a fight, but against Dumbledore they were no match, and beside Barty they went. In went the Veritaserum, and truths were told. The two were sent to Azkaban again, sentenced to the Dementor's kiss.

The two were allowed to share a cell in the cold prison, spending their last moments together. It was there that things were finally spilled. Don't cry over spilt milk they say. Well. The milk in this situation was a barrage of hidden emotions, and that was worth shedding tears for.

Interlocked lips followed, accompanied by wandering hands, and really, could the two be blamed? Years of pent up feelings finally seeped out and the two finally, after all this time, let it all go.

The next Dementors came. The kiss followed, and all that was left were empty shells.

"Promise me that you won't let go." A soft, pleading voice. Such a contrast to the man it came from.

"I made that promise when we met, Barty." Came the response.

And down they went, hand in hand.

They deserved it, they say, but lives were lost. That was a morbid day, and at what cost?