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yrluvjane · 1 month ago

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Best of Both Worlds

Barty Crouch Jr. x reader x Sirius Black

The first time you met Sirius Black, he was dangling upside down from the enchanted chandelier in the Gryffindor common room, his school robes flapping around him like a bat as he attempted to charm the portrait of the Fat Lady to sing a vulgar rendition of "Hoggy Warty Hogwarts."

You'd just been sorted, your robes still stiff and new, when the entire common room erupted into chaos.

"BLACK!" roared a voice from the stairs, and a frazzled-looking James Potter came storming down, his hair wilder than usual. "Get down from there before McGonagall—"

The chandelier snapped.

Sirius came crashing down directly into your lap, his elbow knocking the wind out of you as you both tumbled to the floor in a heap of limbs and laughter.

"Oi, watch it!" you wheezed, shoving at his shoulder.

Sirius blinked up at you, his grey eyes bright with mischief. "Well, hello there," he drawled, not bothering to move. "You’re new."

James groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Sirius, for Merlin’s sake—"

But Sirius just grinned, rolling off you and springing to his feet in one fluid motion before offering you a hand. "Sirius Black, at your service."

You took it warily. "I can see why they put you in Gryffindor."

Sirius barked a laugh. "Oh, I like you."

And just like that, you were swept into his orbit.

---

The first time you met Barty Crouch Jr., it was in the library at midnight.

You’d been struggling with a particularly tricky Arithmancy equation, your quill scratching furiously at parchment as you tried to make sense of the numbers swimming before your eyes.

"You’re doing it wrong."

The voice was cool, matter-of-fact. You looked up to see a boy with sharp features and sharper eyes leaning over your shoulder, his Slytherin robes pristine despite the late hour.

You bristled. "Excuse me?"

He pointed at your parchment with a long, elegant finger. "Your formula is backwards. If you transpose these variables, it’ll make sense."

You frowned, looking back at your work—and then it clicked. "Oh."

The boy smirked. "Oh indeed."

You scowled. "Thanks, I guess."

He inclined his head slightly. "Barty Crouch Jr."

You blinked. "The Barty Crouch Jr.? As in, the son of the Ministry’s Head of Magical Law Enforcement?"

Barty’s smirk twisted into something darker. "The very same."

You hesitated, then held out your hand. "Well, thanks for the help."

Barty looked at your hand like it was a foreign object before shaking it briefly. "Don’t mention it."

And just like that, an unlikely friendship was born.

---

By third year, you were caught in an invisible war.

Sirius, with his effortless charm and reckless abandon, dragged you into pranks and adventures, his laughter infectious as you raced through the halls under James’s Invisibility Cloak or charmed Peeves to dump water balloons on unsuspecting Slytherins.

Barty, on the other hand, was your quiet counterpart—the one who stayed up with you in the library, who brewed Pepper-Up Potion when you were sick, who listened when you ranted about your frustrations with the pureblood elitism that still lingered in the halls of Hogwarts.

They couldn’t have been more different.

And yet, they both wanted you.

---

"Come on," Sirius whined one evening in the Gryffindor common room, flopping dramatically across your lap as you tried to study. "The Whomping Willow’s not going to pelt first years with acorns by itself."

You rolled your eyes, shoving at his shoulder. "Sirius, I have a Potions test tomorrow."

Sirius pouted. "But it’ll be fun!"

"Fun isn’t the word I’d use," came a dry voice from the portrait hole.

You looked up to see Barty leaning against the frame, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

Sirius scowled. "What are you doing here, snake? Lost your way to the dungeons?"

Barty ignored him, his eyes on you. "You said you’d meet me in the library an hour ago."

You winced. "I got distracted."

Barty arched a brow. "Clearly."

Sirius sat up, his grin turning sharp. "She’s busy, Crouch. Run along."

Barty’s eyes flicked to him, cold and assessing. "I wasn’t aware you were her keeper, Black."

Sirius’s smirk faltered for half a second before he recovered, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Someone’s got to keep her out of trouble."

Barty’s lips curled. "From what I’ve seen, you’re the one causing most of it."

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "Merlin, you two are impossible."

They both turned to look at you, identical expressions of indignation on their faces.

"Me?" Sirius said, pressing a hand to his chest. "I’m an angel."

Barty snorted. "A fallen one, maybe."

Sirius shot him a glare before turning back to you, his expression softening. "Come on, love. Just one prank?"

Barty stepped forward, his voice low. "Or you could actually study and not fail your exams."

You looked between them—Sirius with his puppy-dog eyes and disheveled hair, Barty with his quiet intensity and unwavering focus—and sighed.

"Why do I have to choose?" you muttered under your breath.

But the words lingered in the air, heavy with possibility.

---

The tension came to a head during a Hogsmeade weekend in fifth year.

You’d agreed to meet Barty at the Three Broomsticks for a study session, but Sirius had intercepted you on the way, dragging you into Zonko’s with promises of new joke products to test.

By the time you made it to the pub, Barty was sitting alone at a corner table, two Butterbeers untouched in front of him, his expression stormy.

"You’re late," he said flatly as you slid into the seat across from him.

You winced. "Sorry. Sirius—"

"Of course," Barty cut in, his voice icy. "It’s always Black, isn’t it?"

You frowned. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Barty leaned forward, his grey eyes burning. "You know exactly what it means."

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, the door to the Three Broomsticks burst open, and in strolled Sirius, looking windswept and entirely too pleased with himself.

"There you are!" he called, spotting you immediately. "I’ve been looking everywhere—oh." His grin faded slightly as he noticed Barty. "Didn’t realize you had company."

Barty’s jaw tightened. "Clearly."

Sirius ignored him, dropping into the seat beside you and stealing a sip of your Butterbeer. "So, I was thinking—"

"You’re always thinking," Barty muttered. "A shame none of it’s productive."

Sirius’s eyes narrowed. "Careful, Crouch."

Barty smirked. "Or what?"

The air between them crackled with tension. You could feel the other patrons starting to stare, whispers spreading like wildfire.

You’d had enough.

"Merlin’s beard!" you snapped, slamming your hands on the table. "Why does it always have to be a competition? Why can’t I just have both of you?"

Silence.

Sirius blinked. Barty froze.

The entire pub seemed to hold its breath.

"...Both?" Sirius repeated slowly, his eyebrows creeping toward his hairline.

You threw your hands up. "Yes, both! Merlin, you two are impossible. It’s not like I have to choose—"

"Yes."

You stopped mid-rant. "What?"

Barty’s lips curled into that rare, genuine smirk of his—the one that made your stomach flip. "I said yes."

Sirius’s grin was downright predatory. "Oh, this is brilliant. I get to annoy Crouch and keep you? Perfect."

You stared between them, waiting for the punchline. "You’re... serious?"

Sirius winked. "I’m always Sirius."

Barty rolled his eyes, but there was no real irritation in it. Instead, he reached out and tugged you to your feet, his grip firm but gentle. "You heard him. Though I reserve the right to hex him if he gets too obnoxious."

Sirius popped up on your other side, slinging an arm around your waist. "And I reserve the right to be exceptionally obnoxious."

The pub had gone eerily quiet, every eye in the room fixed on the three of you—a Gryffindor, a Slytherin, and you, caught perfectly in the middle.

You looked between them—Sirius with his wild grin and disheveled hair, Barty with his sharp eyes and barely-contained amusement—and felt something warm settle in your chest.

"Well," you said slowly, a smirk of your own forming. "This should be interesting."

Sirius pressed a dramatic kiss to your cheek. "Darling, with us? It’ll be legendary."

Barty rolled his eyes—but when he leaned in to kiss your other cheek, there was no hesitation.

The pub erupted.

Whistles. Shouts. A loud "Bloody hell!" from Rosmerta behind the bar.

You didn’t care.

Because as Sirius laughed against your skin and Barty’s fingers tangled with yours, you realized—

You’d won.

---

The rest of the school year passed in a whirlwind of chaos and affection.

Sirius, true to his word, was exceptionally obnoxious—sending you flowers charmed to sing vulgar love songs, sneaking into your dorm to leave notes under your pillow, dragging you into broom closets for stolen kisses between classes.

Barty, on the other hand, was quieter but no less intense—his touches lingering, his gifts thoughtful (a rare potions book he’d tracked down, a silver bracelet charmed to warm when he thought of you).

And when they were together with you?

It was electric.

---

One evening, you found yourself in the Room of Requirement, curled between them on a conjured sofa as the fire crackled in the hearth.

Sirius was idly braiding a strand of your hair, his fingers surprisingly deft as he hummed a tune under his breath. Barty had his nose buried in a book, but his free hand rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing absent circles.

"You’re staring," Barty murmured without looking up.

You smiled. "Can’t help it."

Sirius tugged playfully on your braid. "Admiring the view?"

"Something like that," you admitted.

Barty finally glanced up, his grey eyes warm in the firelight. "Sap."

Sirius grinned, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple. "Our sap."

Graduation Day

The Great Hall was bathed in golden sunlight as the graduating class of 1978 stood in their dress robes, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the cloudless summer sky. You stood between Sirius and Barty, their hands clasped firmly with yours, as Dumbledore gave his final speech.

"Mischief managed," Sirius whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he slipped a charmed galleon into your palm – a twin to the ones the Marauders used, now engraved with all three of your initials.

Barty rolled his eyes but didn't let go of your other hand, his thumb tracing idle circles on your wrist. "Sentimental fool," he muttered, though the way his fingers tightened around yours betrayed his true feelings.

As the ceremony ended in a shower of enchanted confetti, James whooped loudly, tossing his hat in the air. "Black! Crouch! Stop making heart eyes at my best friend and help us celebrate!"

Sirius flipped him off with one hand while pulling you closer with the other. "Jealous, Prongs?"

That Evening – The Shrieking Shack

The abandoned house had become your secret meeting spot over the years, its creaking floorboards and peeling wallpaper now as familiar as the two boys lounging on either side of you.

Sirius stretched out like a contented cat, his head in your lap as you carded your fingers through his dark hair. "So," he mused, catching your wrist to press a kiss to your palm. "What's next for the three most brilliant minds to grace Hogwarts?"

Barty, ever practical, pulled a set of documents from his robe pocket. "Auror applications for you two," he said, handing one to Sirius. "And a research position at the Department of Mysteries for me."

You blinked. "You planned our careers?"

"Someone had to," Barty deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched when Sirius threw a pillow at his head.

One Year Later – London Flat

The key Barty had given you fit perfectly in the lock of the cozy flat above Diagon Alley. Sunlight streamed through charmed windows that showed different landscapes – a beach for Sirius, a library for Barty, and your favorite Quidditch pitch for you.

"Home," Sirius declared, dropping his trunk with a thud before promptly pushing you against the nearest wall, his lips finding yours with practiced ease.

Barty cleared his throat pointedly. "If you're quite finished defiling our new home..."

Sirius pulled away just enough to grin. "Oh, I'm just getting started."

Five Years Later – Ministry Ball

The grand hall glittered with enchanted chandeliers as you navigated the crowd, your Auror robes swapped for elegant dress robes. Sirius, ever the showman, had charmed his to shift colors with his mood. Barty stood nearby in impeccably tailored black, looking every inch the Unspeakable he was.

"Merlin, you're beautiful," Sirius murmured, spinning you into a dance without warning.

Barty appeared at your other side, his hand resting possessively on your waist. "Stop monopolizing her, Black. Some of us would like a turn."

Sirius gasped dramatically. "Is that jealousy I detect, Crouch?"

You laughed, pulling them both closer. "Play nice, boys."

Ten Years Later – By the Lake

The same stretch of Black Lake shore where you'd shared so many stolen moments now hosted a small gathering of friends. Lily held baby Harry while James made embarrassing toasts. Remus smiled fondly as Sirius fumbled with rings charmed to always return to their wearers.

Barty, usually so composed, had tears in his eyes as he slid a delicate silver band onto your finger. "No more secrets," he whispered, echoing your words from all those years ago.

Sirius kissed you breathless before pressing his forehead to yours. "Forever, yeah?"

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