#Barty crouch junior

[curiouslymyown]

The skittles are a group that everyone crushes on, they just don’t say it out loud

Dorcas and Pandora were gay awakenings for 80% of the schools lesbian community

Evan and Barty are so hot together it makes a lot of guys question their own sexuality

Regulus is just really fucking pretty, it’s hard not to crush on him

[my-castles-crumbling]

fit - @rosekillermicrofic - nsfw - word count: 391

“Okay…how about James or Sirius?” Dorcas asked, grinning over her glass as she looked down the bar at the rest of the group.

“Oooo, Sirius,” Pandora answered immediately, grinning. “I love his whole vibe, if I’m honest.”

They’d been playing ‘Who’s Fitter’ for twenty minutes, now, as they waited for the bar to fill up. And at first, it had been all well and good. They’d listed two celebrities and laughed over each other’s choices. But slowly, people had been listing real people. And Evan was losing his mind.

Why?

Because every time he was listed as a choice, Barty wasn’t choosing him.

Which was really funny, because he’d seemed to think otherwise last night, when he’d been under Evan for the better part of three hours.

“Evan or Pandora?” Regulus asked next, a truly evil look on his face as he held up his drink. 

“Pandora,” Dorcas answered quickly, shrugging in a ‘I can’t help that I’m a lesbian’ way.

“Evan,” Regulus retorted, giving the same shrug. Pandora smacked him on the arm.

“Hmm….I think Pandora,” Barty said thoughtfully, eyes locked on Evan’s.

And again, Evan wanted to strangle someone. 

It kept happening. Barty chose Regulus, James and Sirius over him. Stupid, pretty-boy Sirius? Evan was so angry, he’d accidentally spilled his drink all over Pandora, resulting in icy glares until he’d promised to buy her a new outfit.

“I’m going to go to the loo. Don’t miss me too much,” Barty said after a while, beaming at the group and heading toward the back.

Evan merely grunted before following behind him, blood pumping with rage.

His self-restraint snapped when he caught sight of the other man again.

He all-but-pushed Barty into the single-person bathroom, locking the door behind them and slamming him against the tile, restraining his wrists above his head. He wasn’t sure who let out a little whining noise that echoed in the small room.

“What’s wrong, Rosie?” Barty asked innocently, a wild grin on his face, cheeks bright red. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Have you-” Evan sputtered, suppressing a scream. “Barty, I swear to God I’m going to-”

But Barty was breathing hard, eyes shining, desire clear on his face. “Going to what, Rosie?” he asked, voice deadly soft. “Show me.”

They didn’t leave the bathroom for the rest of the evening.

[bartywinter]

ghost · @rosekillermicrofic · rosekiller · wc: 278 · cw: mcd

The strong impact of the shutters against the window pane echoed through the living room, constantly shaking awake the cats trying to sleep on the couch, but not at all disturbing Evan, who stroked Barty’s hair slowly while Barty held a neuroscience book up to his face, his head resting comfortably on Evan’s lap.

“The brain remains functional for approximately seven minutes after death,” Barty read aloud and looked up at Evan. His dark eyes shone especially beautifully, like those of a child who had just discovered a wonder of the world. “Isn’t it amazing?”

Evan nodded.

“I always thought the brain died instantly too.”

“Right?” Barty returned to his reading, his lips half-open in concentration. ”Here it’s not specified what the brain does during those minutes, though.”

“Well, nobody came back from death and told us, did they?”

Barty let out a soft chuckle, the kind Evan was already used to but would never grow tired of hearing no matter how long it went on.

“I am very intrigued. In films the protagonist sees the best moments of their life, but I don’t buy that sappy shit.”

Evan fell silent for a few seconds.

“I’m not sure what could happen during that time, but if it’s memories…” His caresses descended to Barty's left cheek and he traced the scar there absentmindedly with his forefinger. “You’ll be my seven minutes.”

Barty laughed again, but not for long this time, a slight blush creeping onto his face instead.

Evan ghosted a smile as he bled to death on the pavement after having been attacked by Alastor Moody's Bombarda Maxima. Barty would have hated to know he had actually been wrong.

[myriadparacosm]

BARTY CROUCH JR IS A HYENA BUT NOT BECAUSE OF THE LAUGHTER (probably a spotted hyena)

Give some respect to hyenas, they are wonderful animals!

Welcome to my "Evan Rosier is a black swan, cruel and manipulative but soooo pretty, and has one soulmate" talk

[allonsy-moony]

Regulus Black, Barty Crouch Jr, Evan Rosier

[moonyswarmsweaters]

Evan: If the door was locked, how did you get in?

Barty: I hit the lock with my shoe.

Evan: Your shoe seems to have the ballistics capacity of a.38 revolver.

Barty: Weird, isn't it?

[bartonomy]

A LITTLE MISHAP!

PAIRING Barty Crouch Junior x Gryffindor!fem!reader

SYNOPSIS absolutely bored of your arses, you and your friends accidentally summon something worse than a demon

CONTENT WARNINGS crack!, pandora being the token raven in the lion house, debuting my favourite nickname for dear bartemius

SYNOPSIS 2.3k words

library.

You should have known that any game Pandora Rosier suggested would end in absolute horror.

It started as a totally, regular, normal night. A storm raged outside, rattling the windows of the Gryffindor girls’ dormitory, but inside, everything was warm, golden, and just the right amount of chaotic.

James (not part of the plan but insisted to help a damsel in distress (lily)) had sneaked in butterbeer from the kitchens, Marlene was dramatically retelling her latest Quidditch victory (complete with accurate air reenactments) with her girlfriend in her arms, and Mary was sprawled across your bed, half-listening and half-reading the latest Witch Weekly. Dorcas, ever the voice of reason, had been the one to suggest a game, if only to distract Pandora from her latest experiment involving moonstone dust and a stolen Niffler trinket.

And then, of course, Pandora pulled it out.

The book was old- thick, heavy, and bound in a leather that looked suspiciously alive. You have seen it a few times since she acquired it from her equally as eccentric uncle. The pages crinkled like dried leaves as she flipped through them, muttering excitedly under her breath.

“It’s a divination tome,” she explained, eyes gleaming with eerie delight. “But not the fluffy, crystal-ball nonsense Augburn teaches. Real divination. Spells for contacting the other side.”

You exchanged a wary glance with Lily. She looked utterly unimpressed. Marlene, however, looked downright ecstatic. Mary scoffed, rolling onto her stomach. “You mean ghosts? We live in a castle full of them. I can go ask the Grey Lady for relationship advice if I want to be spooked.”

“This is different.” Pandora’s light voice aired out. “This is summoning.”

Which, in hindsight, should have been your first sign to shut the book and go back to braiding Mary’s hair.

Instead, curiosity (or perhaps stupidity) won out, and ten minutes later, the six of you were sitting in a circle on the floor, the candles dimmed, and Pandora reciting something in what sounded like very questionable Latin. You held hands, mostly for the aesthetic and vibes, but also because, if something did go terribly wrong, it was nice to have a buddy to cling to.

The air shifted. At first, it was subtle. The dormitory grew colder, the flames on the candles flickering as though disturbed by an invisible breeze. Then, the shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls, curling like ink in water. Your stomach twisted, a prickling sensation running down your spine.

“…'Dora,” Dorcas said slowly. “What exactly was this spell supposed to do?”

Before she could answer, the entire room lurched.

It felt like the world had hiccupped, reality itself skipping a beat similarly to apparating. The shadows pulsed, the air crackled- and then, with an ungodly pop, a figure appeared in the center of your summoning circle.

A very real, very alive figure.

A bloody boy.

A boy who, by the looks of things, had been mid-sentence before he was unceremoniously yanked through time and space.

His expression went from slightly annoyed to bewildered to absolutely furious in the span of three seconds. His sharp blue eyes darted around the room, taking in the six of you, the book, the circle of candles, before finally landing on you.

“Excuse me,” he said, voice dangerously low. “Where the bloody hell am I?”

There was a beat of stunned silence. Then, as if he was graced upon realization, the borderline maniacal bloke pointed an accusatory finger at Pandora.

“What did you do?!”

Pandora looked from the boy to you, her expression somewhere between awe and mild panic. “…I think I accidentally summoned him?”

The boy, who was wearing (hideous) Slytherin robes, by the way, and not just any Slytherin robes, but the kind only someone with an absurd amount of family wealth and blood purity obsession could get away with- made an outraged noise.

“Summoned?” he repeated incredulously. “Summoned? What the hell, Rosier! I was in the middle of a conversation- ” He stopped short, his eyes narrowing. “Where is Regulus?”

You blinked. “Regulus? As in Regulus Black?”

“No, Regulus Frownalot” He answered sarcastically, expression flickered, something calculating shifting behind his eyes. “Yes, Regulus Black. Wait. Who are you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, Lily- bless her prefect instincts- stood up, dusting off her skirt. “Alright,” she said, ever the problem solver. “Let’s remain calm. Clearly, this was some sort of magical mishap, and we just need to figure out how to send you back.”

The boy turned to her, incredulous. “Send me back? Oh, brilliant idea. Let me just pop over to the nearest return portal- oh, wait! I can’t, because you lot just ripped me out of existence!”

“Technically,” Pandora said brightly, “I think we just shifted your existence a little!”

“You think?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, everyone shut up for a second. Let’s take a step back. You- Slytherin boy- who are you, and why were you talking to Regulus?”

He gave you a scathing look. “I am Barty Crouch Junior. And I was talking to Regulus because that is what friends do. Why am I even telling you this? You should've introduced yourself before asking me! I asked first, red moron!”

You stared at him, ignoring his absolute pathetic juvenile behavior. “Barty Crouch Junior? As in Crouch Crouch?”

“Wow,” Marlene whispered. “We summoned a Crouch. That’s a new level of unfortunate.”

Barty looked moments away from hexing someone. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing you by being unwillingly transported into your- your filthy lion's den of all places?” His lips curled in distaste. “Merlin, it smells like Quidditch and coitus in here.”

“Alright, first of all, we are all perfect little saints practicing celibacy,” you shot back, but you could hear a mumbled 'like hell we are' from somewhere next to you. “Second, we didn’t mean to summon you.”

“Oh, that’s comforting. I feel very much safe now”

“Look, we’ll figure out how to send you back, alright?” You folded your arms. “Until then, you’re just going to have to sit tight and deal with it.”

Barty scoffed. “Fantastic. Trapped in a room with a bunch of Gryffindors. What a dream come true.”

“You know, for someone who just got accidentally kidnapped, you’re being remarkably annoying about it.”

Barty glared. You glared back back with your best scowl. But something in the air crackled. And for the first time, a flicker of something else crossed his face- mild curiosity, maybe, or amusement.

“Fine,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Let’s see if you Gryffindors can actually fix this mess.”

Barty had spent the last hour in a state of perpetual annoyance, arms crossed, watching as you and your friends frantically flipped through Pandora’s cursed book. He had interjected a few times, mostly to mock the inefficiency of Gryffindors under pressure, but for the most part, he just sat there, an unwilling hostage to whatever this absolute mess of an evening had become.

And then there was Pandora.

Barty had tolerated a lot of things tonight: being yanked out of existence, being surrounded by Gryffindors, even Marlene’s relentless teasing. But Pandora Rosier who had been nothing but comforting to him? She was testing him.

Because while the rest of you were frantically trying to find a spell to reverse whatever Pandora had done, the witch herself had been flipping through the book at a leisurely pace, humming to herself, occasionally muttering things like, Oh, that’s an interesting rune placement, I should write Xeno or Wow, that would have been so much worse, Evan would like it.

And now? Now she was giggling. Barty had had enough.

“Are you enjoying this?” he snapped, watching as she grinned at some obscure text.

Pandora looked up, unbothered. “Immensely.”

“Wonderful,” Barty deadpanned. “Glad to know my involuntary abduction is providing you with a bit of light entertainment, Panda.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Barts,” Pandora said, waving a hand. “It’s not like you’re suffering.”

“You summoned me, Pandora!”

“And you’re the one acting like I performed dark magic,” she shot back, turning a page. “Honestly, I’ve seen worse displacement spells. You could have been summoned into a lake. Or the astral plane.”

Barty narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

Pandora beamed. “Regulus would be so sad to hear that.”

“Regulus is going to murder you when I tell him about this.”

“You think that,” Pandora mused, “but I reckon he’d be far too amused to be properly angry. He’s got that weird little laugh when he’s trying to hide how funny he finds something. You know the one.”

Barty scowled because, unfortunately, he did know the one.

Marlene, ever entertained by the spectacle, leaned over to you and whispered, “I kind of love that she’s not scared of him.”

You grinned. “Oh, she thrives on chaos.”

Barty, meanwhile, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we focus? I’d rather not be here when the sun comes up, thank you very much.”

“We are focusing,” Lily snapped, looking dangerously close to hexing him herself. Tou grinned, taking great pleasure in the teens anger. "Yes, Barts, we are working so hard right now. Do be patience, will you."

“I highly doubt that,” Barty muttered. “At the rate you’re going, I’ll be a permanent resident.”

Dorcas groaned, flopping back onto her bed. “We’re trying, alright? But magic like this isn’t exactly easy to undo!”

Mary, who had woken up ten minutes ago, no one really noticed that she fell asleep like a baby in her girl's lap, groggily mumbled, “What if we just… did the spell backwards?”

Pandora looked delighted by the suggestion. “That’s actually not the worst idea-!”

“No,” Barty interrupted. “Absolutely not. I am not about to let any of you risk splitting me in half because you thought it would be fun to rewind me into existence.”

“You say that like it’s not a completely valid risk,” Pandora mused.

Barty clenched his jaw. “I swear to Merlin-”

And then, after another twenty minutes of arguing, another round of searching, and another layer of pure exhaustion settling over the group-

You suddenly stopped flipping through the book. Everything went quiet. You furrowed your brows, then looked up at Barty. “…Why are we even doing this?”

Barty exhaled sharply. “Finally. Thank you. That’s what I’ve been saying-”

“No, no,” you interrupted, shutting the book with a thump. “I mean… why are we looking for a spell when you could just… y'know, walk out the door?”

The room fell into dead silence. Even the storm outside seemed to pause.

Barty blinked. “…What?”

“You go to school here,” you said slowly, as if explaining something to a particularly dense child. “Your dormitory is literally downstairs. Instead of looking for some complicated reversal spell, you could just… leave.”

A full beat of silence.

Then, a particularly annoying groan of frustration could be heard. “You-” Barty gestured wildly, “-You fuckers had me sitting here for hours-”

“To be fair,” Pandora interjected with a raised hand, “you didn’t think of it either. Aren't you supposed to be smart, Mister 12 O.W.L.s? ”

Barty let out a strangled noise of pure exasperation. “Dont go smarty pants with me, Panda. Are you telling me that I could have left at any time? That you idiots had me sitting here, wasting my life, when all I had to do was walk out the door?”

“Well,” Pandora said cheerfully, “yes.”

Lily, meanwhile, had buried her face in her hands. “I cannot believe we’re this stupid.”

Mary nodded, looking absolutely done with all of this, just muttered, “I need a drink.”

Barty stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over. “You know what? I’m done. I am leaving. I never want to see any of you again.”

Dorcas, still half-sprawled on her bed, yawned. “Go on, then.”

Barty stormed toward the door. You watched him go, something oddly anticlimactic about the way he just- left.

No grand magical solution. No complicated ritual.

Just… walking.

He reached the door, yanked it open but paused, tilting his head. He turned back, eyes landing on you for just a second longer than necessary.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Barty scoffed. “Nothing.” He looked at Pandora, scowling. “You’re the worst.”

Pandora smiled like he’d just paid her a compliment. “Tight sleep, Barts! Remember to use the acorn essence for the whackspurts.”

He rolled his eyes but nodded. And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the stairs.

The second he was gone, Marlene burst out laughing. “That was so much better than if we’d actually figured out the spell.”

Lily groaned. “I still can’t believe we didn’t think of that earlier.”

Mary, flopping back into the pillows, simply muttered, “I hate magic. Should've just ignored the damn letters.”

Pandora, ever the menace, just picked up her book again and sighed happily. “That was so fun. We should summon people more often.”

You looked at her, horrified. “'Dora, no.”

But as the others laughed, as the storm outside finally settled, you couldn’t help but glance at the door, thinking of the strange way Barty had looked at you before he left.

Temporary housemate to acquaintances indeed.

[marauders-bs]

barty, evan, and regulus have been joking about being in a throuple since they learned what it was age twelve. they do it, still, in front of james. all the time

[saltwater-moon]

barty's art journey actually started when he saw remus writing with a pen instead of a quill and he borrowed one and suddenly all of his friends have drawings on their arms. pandora wanted it to be on her skin longer so they thought of a charm to make it last for weeks. remus got his mum to send more pens of varying colours, even the glittery ones. in the next years, barty would venture to sculptures and tattoos and pottery too. he's just a very artistic person.

[deadkaywizard]

It’s currently 4 am and I’m apparently going to be stuck being awake for a bit so here’s a thought that came to me a bit ago and hasn’t left me since

Whether they’re platonic or romantic I think Barty and Reg have one of the most important relationships in the entire marauders fandom

These two just undeniably understand each other on a level that no one else can really understand

They both have this darkness that lives within them, something that only they know how to deal with and live with

Somewhere along the way they realized that no matter how hard Evan and Pandora and Dorcas and even James, Sirius and Remus tried to understand their connection no one really could, not even James and Sirius

James and Sirius were always close, if anyone should understand their bond it would be them, but not even they do

James and Sirius are outward chaos but they handle their emotions differently than Reg and Barty who are known to lash out, who know the things they say in anger are never what they mean, who can only give each other the full brunt of their emotions because they’re so much deeper than anyone else seems to understand

They balance one another out and bear the weight of that crushing, all consuming darkness together. It’s what keeps them from completely losing their minds

Platonic or romantic these two need each other

[hunter-the-gae]

I'll read a marauders fic and it'll say something about how barty I'd insane and ill just giggle, kick my feet and go "he's so pookie". Like he didn't probably k!ll 3 ppl just now (I'm exaggerating but still).

Like, I love him sm and he's legitimately baby girl 🎀

[curiouslymyown]

The skittles dealing with a possessed Barty and having to preform an exorcism on him is just normal Saturday night activities

[florence-not-italy]

i know evan and barty are heavily popularised as being freaky and crude or whatever, but can i introduce you to shy insecure rosekiller who don't really know who they are or how to be confident about themselves?

just... them talking late at night, about the perils of life and philosophical connotations of existence, with the curtains drawn around evan's bed. barty poking his head out to inform regulus that they definitely weren't shagging, and he was welcome to join them in discussing. just to clear his conscience of any implications regulus may or may not have made.

and what if they don't even snog until three weeks after revealing their feelings? what then? you gonna fight me? because they're young, and they're babies, and best friends at the very least. they're insecure about the change.

and from a fic perspective, they feel so much more real when not everything about them is sexual. there's nothing wrong with that side of rosekiller!! don't get me wrong. i would die for any variation of them. i just think that this is such an unexplored concept that could be so great. them constantly assuring regulus nothing malevolent is happening behind the bed curtains is so dear to me.

[dovesdreaming]

All this time

Summary: You and Barty have always been friends, you know everything about each other yet there’s something neither of you can see but everyone else can. Bartys emotions finally get the better of him when you come crying about another boy again though. (1.4k words)

A/N really wanted this to be longer but I haven’t written in ages I feel I haven’t done this as much justice as it deserves maybe I’ll rewrite in the future <3

Requested

Masterlist

Barty Crouch Jr. had always been a part of your life. Before Hogwarts, before House assignments and whispered alliances, there was simply Barty. The first memories you had were of sunlit gardens, sticky fingers reaching for jam tarts, and Barty’s sharp, quick laughter. He was the clever boy who dared you to climb higher, run faster, laugh louder. The boy whose parents drank tea with yours on manicured lawns, whose laughter you could recognize even from across a crowded room. You'd grown up tangled together, barefoot summers and shared secrets. He was always an intense child, eyes sharp and smile sly. But with you, he was softer, his sharp edges smoothed by familiarity.

When the Hogwarts letters arrived, your parents held a small celebration. Barty sat beside you, knees knocking against yours beneath the table, excitement simmering between you. There was no question you'd end up in the same House — two childhood friends set to conquer Hogwarts together.

On the train ride there, you sat across from him in a compartment, knees drawn up as you wondered aloud about the Sorting. Barty's expression was confident, a smirk playing at his lips. “We’ll be in Slytherin, obviously” he declared.

You laughed, teasing. “Confident, are we?”

“Just realistic” he shot back, but his eyes softened as he watched you. He hoped it would be true, hoped you wouldn’t be separated.

The Sorting Hat followed his wishes, and in Slytherin, you found a circle. Regulus Black with his quiet melancholy, Evan Rosier with his cocky charm, and Rabastan Lestrange with his sharp-edged smirks. Among them, Barty's attention to you stood out, the way his gaze lingered when you laughed, how he positioned himself beside you in crowded rooms, his protectiveness masked by sarcasm. They all saw it, the way Barty’s eyes followed you, the way his posture stiffened when you laughed with someone else. Everyone saw it. Except you. Or you simply refused to believe that Barty. sharp-tongued, clever Barty. Could look at you like that.

Second year brought a new kind of confidence for you. You were no longer the wide-eyed first-year, and Barty’s presence was more constant than ever, a fixture of your life. He would save you a seat in the common room, let you copy his Potions notes when Slughorn droned on, and stand shoulder to shoulder with you when older students sneered. There were moments that year when something twisted sharply inside of you. Like when Barty charmed a butterfly to land on your shoulder just to see you smile, or when you caught him staring across the common room, his gaze heavy and pensive. Each time, the thought flickered through your mind, what if it meant more? but you quickly buried it. He was your best friend. You couldn’t risk it.

Third year was the year you began to notice the way other girls looked at Barty. The way they giggled at his smirks, whispered when he passed by. He seemed indifferent, his attention always reserved for you, but it still clawed at your insides. “Do you think Barty will take Marianne to Hogsmeade?” someone whispered once, and the thought of it, of Barty charming someone who wasn’t you, left an uncomfortable knot in your stomach.

You didn’t ask him. You didn’t want to know.

By fourth year, you had started dating. Nothing serious just casual, meaningless dates with boys who flirted in hallways or passed notes in class. Barty’s tolerance for them was always low, his eyes hardening when you mentioned their names. “They’re all idiots” he muttered once, walking beside you after you described a particularly dull conversation with a Hufflepuff boy.

“Maybe I just have bad taste” you teased. “Or maybe I just like idiots”.

He laughed, but it was strained, a bitterness veiled by humor. That night, Regulus found him in the common room, fuming over a half-completed essay.

“You're a fool, you know” Regulus said quietly, leaning against the couch. “If you told her how you feel-“

“She doesn’t see me that way” Barty cut in sharply, jaw clenched. “I'm just her friend”.

Regulus sighed, leaving him to his thoughts, but Barty couldn't shake the weight of it. The truth of it all, that you saw him as just a friend while his heart burned for you, clawed at his insides.

Fifth year was harder. You had dated a few boys by then, all short-lived flings that crumbled quickly but recently was the first time you kissed someone. Someone who wasn’t Barty. A boy from Ravenclaw. Barty didn't like him, he said what’s-his-name was a pompous bore, a pretty face with no depth. You shrugged and teased him for being protective. but this Ravenclaw boy, he had left you more wounded than before. He had pretended to care, whispered sweet things that felt real, and then you saw him, entangled with a Hufflepuff girl, her laughter ringing in the air. It stung, but not because of him. It stung because it felt like something in you wasn’t good enough, wasn’t enough to be chosen.

You ran to find Barty after, your chest tight and your pride wounded. He listened as you poured it out, your voice wavering. “Maybe there's just something wrong with me” you muttered bitterly.

Barty's heart twisted, a familiar ache. “Don't say that”.

“Why not?” you shot back. “It keeps happening. Maybe I'm just not-“

“Don't” he snapped, voice sharp. “Don't talk about yourself like that. You deserve better than them”.

You looked at him, eyes wide and hurt. Barty’s expression was fierce, a storm behind his gaze. “Why do you care so much?” you whispered, a question heavy with years of unspoken things.

“Because I-” The words caught, and he swallowed them. He couldn’t. Not now.

“Because you’re my best friend” he finished quietly. “I hate seeing you like this”. It was the closest he ever came to admitting it.

Over the years of your friendship Barty had become used to this conversation each guy making you feel more worthless. Boys came and went, and you sought solace in Barty each time. He watched with gritted teeth as you flirted at parties and kissed boys under the mistletoe at Christmas. He saw the way they treated you, careless and casual. None of them saw you the way he did. None of them could.

Regulus nudged him once, watching you laugh with Evan at the Slytherin table. “You’re going to have to tell her eventually”.

“She doesn’t see me that way,” Barty muttered. “I’m just... me.”

Regulus shook his head but said nothing more. He was getting fed up of having this conversation after seeing each of your longing looks at each other.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend when everything unraveled. You were late to meet the group, tear-stained and angry, the taste of betrayal sharp on your tongue. Another boy, another careless fling who didn't care about you, only what you could give. When Barty caught your wrist, tugging you aside, his voice low with concern, you crumbled.

“What happened?” he demanded, voice low but taut. His gaze raking over your reddened eyes and trembling hands.

You hesitated, but the pain was too raw. “It’s stupid. He just- he just wanted a quick snog. I thought- I thought he liked me, but he was just... bragging to his friends. About me”.

Barty’s jaw tightened. “And you let him?”

Your eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why do you keep letting them treat you like this?” he bit out. “Like you’re just something to pass the time?”

“Maybe that’s all I am” you shot back, voice shaking. “Maybe I just- maybe I deserve it.”

“Don’t say that!” Barty’s voice was harsh, sharp, and it made you flinch. “You deserve better than all of them, and you keep letting them- God, you don't even see- ”

“See what, Barty?” you screamed, the tears threatening to fall. “See that no one actually cares about me? That everyone just uses me and moves on?”

“That's not true!” he yelled, his voice breaking. “I care about you! I have always cared about you!” His confession hung heavy, sharp as a curse. You froze, breaths coming in shallow gasps. He looked terrified, his vulnerability laid bare.

But you couldn't- you just couldn't face it. You turned and fled, Barty’s voice echoing after you despite his confession making your heart skip a beat.

It took days before you could face him again. But when you finally found the courage, the truth of it settled in. you had always loved him, too. Always and foolishly, you had just never let yourself believe he could love you back. When you told him, trembling and tearful by the lake, Barty looked at you like you were everything he had ever wanted. Because you were. You always had been. And finally, finally, there were no more unspoken things.

-

Also question- who is the most popular fancast for Barty crouch I’ve never seen like a solid answer??

[pxrty-crxsher]

Does anyone have fic recs where Barty has hearing aids???

[stagprongs]

keep everything aside, when are we gonna talk about bpd! barty crouch jr?