#barty crouch antics

[juniorlore]

ravenclaw barty who gave up on trying to please his father and slowly started surrounding himself with slytherins. he was just so bored with his fellow ravenclaws and felt like he belonged elsewhere.

it got to the point where the slytherins all made the joint decision of giving him their spare uniforms so he could be apart of the silver and green house instead. he even has a bed in the slytherin boys dorm shared with evan and regulus. by the end of 5th year, nobody could even fathom the idea that barty crouch junior could ever belong to a hogwarts house that wasnt slytherin.

[juniorlore]

he tried to wear contacts once but accidentally bought coloured ones that made his eyes like bright red and then struggled to get them out for over an hour and had to beg regulus to help

hc that barty has really bad eyesight but he refuses to wear glasses because "it ruins his look"

[olivers-cocoapuffs]

Barty: when I die I want people to play ‘Highway to hell’ followed by ‘WAP’ at my funeral

Evan: what do we get if we do?

Barty: all my money and any houses I own

Regulus: three cents and a dodgy tent?

James: okay but for the record I’d do it for a kiss

[ellecdc]

Battered by Baggage

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader who the boys cannot find [1k words]

prompt by @atlass8: "Reader has a suitcase like Newt Scamander and she probably busy doing something in there but our boys don't know about it and can't find her. barty being our bestie he knows where reader is but doesn't tell anyone cause he likes chaos. tho their reaction to the suitcase would be amazing" -> scenario by @unstablereader

CW: Crouch Sr reference but it's chill, fem!reader

“She may have gotten lost, Pads.” Remus placated without raising his gaze from his book, though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been staring at the same two passages as he fretted over your whereabouts as well.

“How could she be lost, Moony? We’re on a train, it has only two directions.” Sirius pressed.

“She is always wandering off…” James considered as he peered out the window, though he didn’t seem particularly confident in his statement. 

“We always sit in this compartment.” Sirius insisted. “She knows that, everyone knows that. She’s supposed to meet us here.”

“And she will, bubs.” James offered him, pulling the long-haired boy into his side and pressing his nose into his jaw. “She keeps her promises.”

Remus hardly had a moment to smile at his boyfriends when the compartment door was flung open unceremoniously. 

The three boys deflated significantly when the head that was poking into their train compartment was not that of their sweet albeit perhaps more than slightly whimsical girlfriend, but that of her very much maniacal best friend. 

“Not one looker in the bunch.” Barty scoffed with a shake of his head. 

“Yeah, well the average of this compartment will greatly improve once you sod off.” Sirius muttered rather petulantly as he crossed his arms, taking a moment to remind himself how upset you would be if you found out he had hexed your friend. 

“Whatever.” Barty sighed as if he was really quite bored of this conversation that he had started. “Tell Treasure we’re looking for her.”

“Yeah, that’ll be the first thing we say when we find her Junior.” Sirius scoffed sarcastically, earning him a very bemused expression from Barty before his eyes flit up to the overhead luggage. 

“Merlin, you really wouldn’t know what's right above you, would you?” He sighed in exasperation then, closing the door before anyone could respond and stalking off down the train. 

“He’s a weird bloke.” James let out with a breath, relaxing somewhat into his seat now that the unwelcome company had vacated.

“What did he mean that we wouldn’t know what’s sitting right above us?” Remus murmured to himself just as the train veered a corner and a few bags fell from the overhead compartment; one landing on Sirius’ head before landing on the ground with a thud. 

“Whose bag is that?” James asked as he craned his neck to peer at it over Sirius.

“It’s gonna go out the bloody window.” Sirius muttered as glared at the offending bag and massaged his head. 

Before Sirius could act on his revenge, the bag began to wiggle and shift before you came tiptoeing out of it with a yawn.

“There you boys are!” you greeted excitedly as if they hadn’t just spent the last however long worried you had missed the bloody train to Hogwarts.

“There we are!? What- what the hells?” Sirius sputtered. 

You seemed rather confused at Sirius’ theatrics and turned to look at Remus quizzically. 

“We’ve been looking for you, baby dove.” he murmured as he pulled you down so you were tucked into his side on the bench beside him. 

“Oh,” you giggled, “well I wasn’t very far, Siri; I was only taking a nap.” 

The three boys stared at you; Remus who had decided long ago to stop trying to understand you and just appreciate your antics, James who looked like he was trying to decide between being elated at finally having you here and scolding you for worrying him so, and Sirius who was still clearly very caught up on the whole matter. 

“A nap?” Sirius deadpanned.

“Right.”

“In a bag.”

“Mhm.” You hummed happily; smile beaming as you leaned further into Remus’ side. Merlin, he loved you. 

James let out a nervous chuckle as he placed a reassuring hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Sweetheart, I’m afraid we’re going to need more details.”

“Dumbledore said I was allowed to keep the nifflers but they weren’t allowed to roam the school; I guess they had stolen from Slughorn a few too many times.” You explained easily.

“You have nifflers?” Remus asked you then, to which he was rewarded with you smiling shyly up at him. 

“Well, they were Barty’s first; his father is involved with poaching and trading beasts and creatures, so Barty stole them from him and brought them to school.”

“And Junior just…released them on the grounds?” Sirius asked.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” You repeated.

The three boys waited for you to explain more, but when it became clear that you weren’t going to, Remus gave you a nudge.

“Where did Junior release them?” He asked you sweetly. 

“Gryffindor tower.”

“That son of a bitch.” Sirius muttered as he no doubt started considering the amount of accessories he had lost last term. 

“So, let me get this straight.” James started as he reached over and took your hand in his. “Crouch Senior poached and was trying to trade a pack of nifflers.” He paused for you to nod. “So Junior stole them.” Another nod. “And brought them to school where they wreaked havoc and then Dumbledore moved to ban them from school property.”

“Right.” You agreed happily, squeezing James’ hand in yours in praise of his correct deduction.

Remus watched as James melted slightly in his quasi-interrogation in order to smile at you before the bag vibrated again. 

“And now they all just…live in here?” He asked as he brought the bag over and pulled the two sides apart slightly in an attempt to peer inside.

“I’d be careful Jamie; Sirius’ earrings look quite expensive.” You suggested breezily, smiling at Sirius as if you hadn’t just sort of threatened his belongings.

He couldn’t be mad at you, though; not for his stress over your whereabouts, not for your slightly rude entrance, and certainly not for your caring nature which resulted in you toting around a bag of pilfering thieves.

And he certainly couldn’t be mad at you when you looked so sodding sweet pressed up against Remus’ side as if that was simply where you were meant to be. 

And he definitely wouldn’t be mad if he could convince you to take care of the growing lump on his head as a ruse to get to cuddle you all by himself tonight.

Nope, Sirius really couldn’t find it in him to be mad at all.

[xxxanteaterxxx]

Caught

poly!Rosekiller x fem!Reader

Regulus catches the three of you cuddled up.

TW:Cussing and straight up fluff.

"Well, well, well..." Regulus drawled. " What do we have here?" He had just walked into his shared dorm to find you asleep in between Crouch and Rosier.

Both boys were awake and not at all happy with the interruption of what had been an incredibly peaceful afternoon.

"What the fuck does it look like to you Black?" Barty scowled at him, reminding Regulus of a petulant child. Evan was staring at Regulus with a blank look on his face.

You stirred, groaning as you peeled an eye open to see what was going on. When you saw a glimpse of the Black boy, your eye snapped shut and you tensed. This was not fucking good. Regulus made a sound of disapproval.

"You know, I don't think my brother and his...friends will like this..." He waved his hand around at them. "Picture."

He was right, you had known this very well. Which is why it had been your intentions to keep it a secret for as long as possible. You should have known it wouldn't work. Secrets were never secrets for long in the group you usually ran with.

Before you could conjure up a quick-witted retort, Evan was already speaking from his place beside you.

"Well, why don't you go tell them Black? Save us the trouble." His response caused you to open your eyes and blink rather owlishly at him. That was a horrid idea.

"I actually disagree. Reggie, why don't you just keep it to yourself for a while, hm?" Barty was chuckling quietly at your distress, though you knew he wasn't really laughing at you.

"Don't call me that." He spoke as he turned around. "I think I'll go find them now. Would hate for them to be left out." Then he was gone and suddenly you were really rather afraid of what was going to happen now.

"You know, I truly think I might skin him." You spoke as you went to stand up. Barty launched himself at you before you could succeed.

"Oh no, peaches! You're not leaving yet, we were promised the whole day with our girl and the whole fucking day we will have, yeah?" You rolled your eyes at his antics before relaxing and deciding that whatever wrath you would be facing from your friends could be dealt with later.

This is truly where you would rather be, cuddled up between two of the most beautifully, deranged boys you had ever met.

[juniorlore]

feel like after a while it stops working and the conversation goes

"you think im not a real boy?"

"yeah." (jokingly)

Barty: GIRL. DO NOT TOUCH MY SHIT!

Regulus: Oh so you see me as a girl?

Barty: wait no i-

Evan: it’s because he’s trans huh? And trans boys aren’t ‘real boys’ Barty? Is that it?

Barty: NO NO NO I-

Regulus: I knew you could be mean but.. *tearing up* I.. I thought we were friends Barty.

Barty: Reggie I’m so sorry. Please listen. I didn’t mean it that way. I pr-

Evan: You’re fucking sick.

Barty: *tearing up* Boys please. I’m so s-sorry. I promise I d-didn’t m-

Regulus and Evan: *fucking losing it*

These two LOVE fucking with Barty any chance they get, and Barty definitely uses ‘Bruh’ and ‘Girl’ as gender neutral terms.

[bri-cheeses]

Letters and Pens - Part 1

| June 8th | Prompt: Illuminate | Word count: 749 | @rosekillermicrofic |

-

Barty had had a bad day.

Evan knew he would from the moment the letter arrived at breakfast, marked with his father’s seal. Evan didn’t know what Barty Crouch Sr wanted, but he knew that his words were never kind. So he had made his prediction, and it had turned out to be right. Barty had spent the first half of the day sulking, quieter than normal. And as usual, the second half was the complete opposite. Barty had acted out, heightening his personality in an attempt to distract himself from whatever his father had said.

But Barty had clearly found his own performance lacking, which was why, Evan assumed, they were now at a party, the green lighting casting everything in an ominous glow. Barty danced next to him, tipsy already, trying his best to forget his troubles. And if this was what he needed in order to do it, then Evan was more than happy to help—so long as Barty didn’t get too drunk, of course. But Evan had been watching him carefully all night. By his calculations, he should still be fine.

“Evannn,” Barty crooned, throwing an arm around his shoulders, “You’re too tense! Loosen up a little.”

Then he laughed, and despite his crazy antics, Evan couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

As Evan smiled at him, trying not to let his emotions show themselves completely on his face, Barty’s laughter trailed off and he lazily looked back at Evan. His smile dropped.

“Why aren’t you dancing with me, Evs?” he pouted, then pulled Evan in closer. Barty’s breath ghosted over his cheek as he whispered in his ear, “You look good tonight.”

The words, the tone, the proximity—it was too much.

“You’re drunk, Bee,” Evan tried to laugh. It came out more forced than he would’ve liked.

“Just tipsy, actually. And even if I was drunk, my eyes would still work just fine.”

Evan shook his head at Barty’s insistence.

“You just want a distraction,” he said.

And it was true. Barty had been looking for one all night—all day, really, ever since receiving that letter from his father—and Evan could tell. Barty always had a certain look about him when he was hunting for someone to occupy his time, and Evan had, of course, become extremely adept at recognizing it. Which is why he had clocked in on it tonight, Barty’s eyes roaming around the scene, taking in different people and weighing them in his head. The one thing Evan couldn’t figure out, though, is why Barty had landed on him instead of just about anyone else.

“You’re being mean,” whined Barty, moving even closer.

Barty was going to kill him, this Evan was sure of.

“I’m being responsible.”

He felt Barty’s petulance before he saw it in his face, the arm around his shoulder pulling him in more as Barty’s expression became downcast.

“Can’t you just kiss me?” Barty pleaded, the green lighting illuminating the planes of his face, and really, Evan thought, this wasn’t fair. How could he say no when Barty was looking at him like that, eyelashes framing his beautiful eyes, which were burning with the desire for a kiss.

Desire for a kiss, yes, but not for Evan specifically. Not Evan.

Never Evan.

But he might be able to deal with it. He could carry this weight on his back for the rest of his life, if only he got this one chance to kiss Barty.

He could deal with the weight of it, and he would, if it weren’t for the fact that Barty was upset and drunk, and not entirely aware of his own actions. And Evan was supposed to be the one taking care of him, so Barty’s best interests came before his own desires.

Nothing different from usual, of course.

And so, there on the dance floor, surrounded by people who would never value Barty as much as he deserved, Evan turned his best friend away. He turned him away despite knowing Barty would just move on to the next person in order to distract himself. And Evan would watch from afar the entire night as he hopped from person to person, flirting and kissing and laughing with anyone other than Evan, who would stay busy making sure that Barty didn’t end up hurting himself.

It was all so painfully typical that it was almost funny, but somehow, Evan couldn’t find it within himself to laugh.

-

(Part 2)

[mastermindmiko]

Gatherings at the Burrow (Percy Weasley edition)

Pairing: Percy Weasley + Reader Warnings: none, I believe but lmk Word count: 2534 If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist Ron Weasley edition And Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate

Gatherings at the Burrow have never been anything short of brilliant, I've only ever gone there for three years, but each year seems to be better than the one before it.

"You really should visit more often, dear." Molly says, whilst giving me a hug as soon as I enter. I raise my voice, sure to make sure that a certain someone that is also present hears, "I would, If my stupid boss gave me some time off every once in a while!"

"Go complain about it to HR!" Percy yelled back, and although I can’t even see his face, I can imagine the smirk that he must be wearing. Molly leads me inside to the living room where everyone is sitting. I look around the room, waving to everyone, asking how they are. Fred comes from over the room, from his place next to George and Angelina. He says, “Hey there, gorgeous.” 

I roll my eyes at his antics, but this only seems to egg him on even more. He grins at me, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and asks, “Have an answer yet?” 

“You mean to the same question you ask me everytime I’m here?” I counter, teasing. His Cheshire grin spreads wider and he nods, quivering with his eyebrows. I fold my arms over my chest and say, “No, Fred, I will not go out with you.” 

“Shame…” He trails off, and he leans closer to me faces inches apart. He whispers, “But you’ll be dating a Weasley soon enough.” 

Before I get to question what exactly he’s implying, and get to act oblivious as if a person who’s blind wouldn’t know about my crush on a certain Weasley, Fred get’s flicked on his forehead. He flinches back and raises a palm to his forehead. Fred exclaims, “Ow!”

Fred glares at Percy, and Percy with his always stoic expression replies, monotonously, “Stop harassing my employee.” 

“You’d think she’d have graduated from that title a long time ago.” Fred teases, rubbing his forehead. I would’ve wished the same, but that’s all I am to Percy. Fred turns to me and pointing at the albeit pinkish bit of skin on his forehead, he whines, “Is it bruised? I feel like it’s bruised? Ugh, Weatherby’s maimed me!” 

“Don’t call me Weatherby.” Percy says, sharply. I smile, remembering how Percy told me that for a long time Barty Crouch Sr. wouldn’t call him anything except that name. Fred laughs, and stumbles back to where he was sitting next to George. 

George notices this and looks at Percy. George exclaims, “Percy’s finally done with his work!” 

The Weasleys, all of them, and their spouses cheer on, but Percy waves his hand dismissively. Percy explains, “I only came here to greet her.” 

The room falls silent, and Percy turns to look at me. I raise my eyebrows, questioningly. He clears his throat, and mumbles, “Hello.” 

He quickly turns and heads to the kitchen, where he will continue working. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion at the interaction. Ginny comes up from behind me, and wraps her hand around my arm. She begs, “Please, go talk to him, we never see him. All he does is work.” 

“He doesn’t listen to me at work, I’m not sure he’ll listen to me, now.” I say, looking back at the kitchen door. Ginny purses her lips and pleads, “You can at least try.” 

“I will…” Ginny claps, “But under the condition that after, you’ll tell me all about your first game for the Holyhead Harpies next week.” 

She shakes my hand, and returns to her seat next to Luna. I walk into the kitchen and I’m overcome by the smell of food, and Merlin, Molly’s always been such a fantastic cook. I ask, instinctively, “Do you need any help, Mrs. Weasley?” 

“For the millionth time, call me Molly, dear, and no thank you. But, it would be wonderful if you can get that one to put the quill down.” Molly says, then tilts her head towards Percy, who's got his papers spread out on the counter. He purses his lips at his mother’s words and he scratches his temple before sighing and continuing to work. Molly and I exchange a look before I walk towards Percy. 

‘I’m on it,’ I mouth. The table is filled with hundreds of papers, and I can see the ink stains on his hands from writing. He’s mumbling something under his breath as he reads yet another case. He notices my close proximity to him and he lifts up a hand to stop me, he says, “If you’re here to get me to stop working then don’t waste your breath.” 

“I’m not going to do that.” I defend, and pull up a chair and sit next to him. I set my elbow on the table and rest my chin against my palm. He gives me a weary glance then continues to work. He’s just barely grabbed his quill again before I say, “Are those the new transportation regulations?” 

“Hmm.” He says, not sparing me a glance. I’ve never shared an office with Percy, but we have spent the occasional day together when there was an important meeting awaiting. Percy always made sure I had a lot on my hands, and that’s only increased ever since he became head of the department of magical transportation. I wait for a moment till I notice the way his brows furrow, and then ask, “For what?” 

“I sent you the files last week.” He states and I know what they are, but Percy doesn’t know that. I can start to see him frown due to lack of focus. I grin and say, “Brooms?” 

“Apparition?” 

“Floo?” 

“Yes, Floo.” Percy replies, sharply. He gives me a sharp look before he notices the smile I’m wearing and he simply rolls his eyes. He says, “Today is your day off, what are you doing here talking about work?” 

“I’m bored.” I shrug my shoulders, he rubs his forehead, and looks back at his papers. He signs a paper and then I decide it’s a good time to move on to a different tactic. Percy is still wearing his work clothes, and it’s an extra incentive to get him to finish working. I brush off a bit of invisible lint on his shoulder. I can see his eyes flicker across the room. I wait a minute before taking his glasses off, and Percy groans in frustration.

I chuckled at his expression, and he proceeded to give me a dirty look. I flick my wrist to get some tissue paper and rub the glass lenses with them. I place his glasses back on his nose, and he looks at me, unamused, “You’re not going to give it up, are you?” 

“Probably.” I grin, and he sighs. I can see a grin trying to make its way onto his face. He negotiates, “I’ll finish another contract and I’ll be done.” 

“I’m okay with that.” 

“You can get going now, you’ve done your job.” 

“Nice try, I’m waiting right here, till you get up.” I shuffle, making myself more comfortable on a very uncomfortable stool. He turns back to his papers, and gets on with his work, but not before giving me a look of amusement. I watch him, and sometimes I forget how comforting it is just to look at Percy. Despite being in a suit, he ungelled his hair. It’s the way I preferred it, but he always deemed it unprofessional. 

“I’m going now, and I expect you both to be with the others in no more than fifteen minutes.” Molly threatens, then leaves. I watch her walk away and notice the plates of food on the dining table. Their smell engulfed the room and it made my stomach twist in hunger. I look at Percy, hoping that he’s almost finished. 

His blue eyes skim over the paper and he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. A strand falls over his eyes, and he pays it no mind. I should’ve done the same, but instead my hand reaches out and brushes it away. How could I not when it falls over his perfect eyes and brushes over his cheeks and dotted freckles. He turns to look at me, and that’s when I register what I just did. I quickly pull my hand away, and abruptly stand up. 

“I’m going to go. You better be done in five minutes.” The threat is weak, but it’s all I could give before walking away quickly to where everyone was. I rush back into the dining room where everyone is sitting and I quickly take one of the empty seats next to Ginny, and notice that the only empty seat is next to mine. Molly had distributed the food on the table perfectly, and everyone had already started filling their plates up with food. 

Percy walks in a minute after I sit down, and scans the room before sitting down next to me. George wiggles his eyebrows at me and I glare at him while waving my knife in his general vicinity. Percy slips his nimble fingers over the edge of the knife carefully and slides it away from my hand, he places it on his other side (the side that I cannot access). He explains, “No one is safe while you are holding a knife.” 

“Hey-” I start to object before Ginny hears her brother’s voice and then exclaims, “Percy! You’ve finally left your work!” 

“I haven’t been working for that long.” Percy grumbles, and there are murmurs of disagreement from everyone sitting at the table. Percy opens his mouth to protest but not before Mr. Weasley interrupts Hermione by saying, “What is this muggle thing that I’ve been hearing about…this um Wi-Fi?” 

“Uhh, well, it’s hard to explain Mr. Weasley.” Hermione stutters, and soon enough everyone is hounding her about what Wi-Fi is and everyone is completely enamoured by the idea. Fred and George think about getting some of it, before realizing they would have nothing to use it for. Midway through that conversation Percy learns to my side and asks, “Do you really think I work that often?” 

I swallow my food and look at him, wetting my lips before saying, “Honestly? Yeah, you do.” 

Percy purses his lips, that obviously not being the response that he wanted. I place my hand on his forearm and explain, “you work hard and that’s an honourable thing to do, but you’ve been working hard for so long and well, you’re head of the department, there is no other place to go but to be the minister of magic, and I think Hermione would kill you if you got that job and not her, so I think you should be taking more breaks than you do-” 

“I take plenty breaks-”

“Sleeping and eating don’t count, Percy.” I chuckle, and he hums, deep in thought. The conversation between the Weasleys ensues and everything is going well, and I can’t help but think of how grateful I am that I was brought into this family and was welcomed. I wasn’t that close to Ron during our time at Hogwarts but I never thought that I’d be considered a part of this family. 

Everyone had already returned back to the dining room, and Molly started to take the dishes back to the kitchen and I helped her, despite her saying that I don’t have to. I break the comfortable silence between us by saying, “I never thanked you for inviting me three years ago to your home, and into your family”

“Of course It’s the least I could do, after hearing my son gush about you so much” Molly replies, while putting the last of the dishes away into the sink, waving her wand so that three sponges start doing the washing. A towel floats up into the air and starts drying the freshly clean dishes. I ask, “Ron?”

“No, Percy!” She says, and I’m surprised by her reply. She continues, making me even more confused, “Arthur always said that workplace relationships aren’t that good of an idea, but I think that it’s good for Percy to have someone who cares about him with him all the time, especially when that person is as good as you, my dear.”

“Oh, I think you might be mistaken Mrs. Weasley-” 

“Molly”

“Molly,” I correct with a chuckle before continuing, “Percy doesn’t think of me that way.” 

I give her an awkward grin, before she looks at me unconvinced. Molly said while patting me on the shoulder, “I thought the same about Arthur, but we’ve been married for nearly forty years now.” 

***

I really, really didn’t want to ask him about it, really didn’t want to, but I’ve never been one to listen to my head. It’s noon when he walks out of his office and into mine which is just right outside his. He asks, “Do you heave the legislations for the-” 

“Percy-” I interrupt him and he looks up from the papers in his hand. I clear my throat before saying, “I wanna talk to you about something.” 

His eyebrows furrow before he takes off his glasses and waves his hand, sending the papers and the glasses back into his office. He folds his arms, and nods his head, a motion for me to start. I get up to move around my desk to stand in front of him. I lean against my desk and start, “Molly, told me an interesting um thing yesterday.” 

“Yeah well mom tends to talk about a bunch of random things, she’s quite like the twins in that way.” He explains and has a fond smile on his face, thinking about his family. Say, “It wasn’t like that really, she um said that, three- well when I started working here that you- talked about me a lot, I guess-” 

His face flushes a dark shade of red, and he avoids my gaze, opting to look around the room instead. I continued, “And she mentioned something about workplace relationships and I just wanted to ask, if you- well I don’t know, if you like me or something? And I mean… romantically.” 

My voice squeaks unnaturally at the last bit, and my face is already pretty much burning by the end. I want to bury myself in the ground while I wait for him to respond. He grumbles, “Never telling anyone in that family anything again-” 

“Is it true Percy? Am I right?” I push and his eyes meet mine briefly. He runs a hand through his perfectly combed back hair. He rants, “Y-yes, but you never have to worry about it because it would be completely unprofessional for me to act upon my unreciprocated feelings-” 

“They aren’t.” 

“What?” He pauses, and I smile at him. I take a step towards him and press my lips to his. His arms immediately go around my waist and pull me towards him. I grin against his lips at the motion. When the lack of oxygen reaches my lungs, he pulls away and he asks, “And dates, that would be considered a break wouldn’t it?” 

“Yes it would.” 

[lucentloo]

Behind Closed Doors

Summary: Barty steals you between classes to make up for the time he lost.

Wc: 1428

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!fem!reader

Content Warnings: Kissing, Gildroy warning (idk how to actually spell his name and I'm too lazy to search it up), fem reader, secret relationship, shy-ish reader, mention of Gildroy being touchy, Barty not liking Gildroy being touchy, that's all but please let me know if there are any that I missed!

A/N: Guys when I was writing this I spilled some pop on my computer and had a mini heart attack, it's okay though because the computer survived! I would just like to thank everyone for the love I've been receiving on my blog lately! I did not expect people to like my writing this much but I'm glad you do!

Barty was an open book, a bold soul unafraid to color outside the lines. He moved through life with a carefree swagger, unfazed by the whispers and judgments that trailed behind him like shadows. To him, rules were merely suggestions meant to be tested, and upsetting the teachers was often his unspoken goal. If his antics stirred irritation in his father, well, that was just a cherry on top of his rebellious sundae.

However, amid this façade of bravado, there was one secret he carefully guarded—you. 

You were the lone Gryffindor he could tolerate, his beacon of warmth in a sea of red and gold. In crowded hallways filled with laughing friends and bustling students, you were the only touch of scarlet he actively searched for, the only girl whose presence stirred something deeper within him. The fact that you bore the prestigious surname of Potter only complicated matters further. You had a brother protective enough to fight off any adversary for your sake, not to mention his loyal friends who would stand beside him in a heartbeat.

Barty was no coward; in fact, he was anything but. If he could, he would stride confidently through the ancient corridors of Hogwarts, your hand intertwined with his, reveling in the sense of empowerment your companionship bestowed upon him. 

But you were different; despite your Gryffindor blood, you preferred the quiet embrace of your shared feelings. The secret love that bloomed behind closed doors was a treasure you cherished, a delicate flower that thrived only in private glances and fleeting smiles. The thought of it being laid bare to the world terrified you. Everyone would know the notorious James Potter's little sister had fallen for a Slytherin, and the weight of that revelation was heavier than you could bear.

James thrived on attention; it was his lifeblood. Like a vibrant flower basking in sunlight, he reveled in the spotlight, relishing the applause and the thrill of his pranks. His outrageous flirting with Lily was like a dance, captivating all eyes in the room.

But you were not like James. You were more of an enigma—different, undefined. The thought of being under the same spotlight he basked in felt suffocating to you. You feared that with even a fraction of that attention, you would wither away, losing the essence of who you were.

It was a daily struggle for Barty to harbor this secret. Every step he took echoed with the knowledge that you were his, even if the world remained oblivious. It drove him to a simmering fury whenever he spotted others flirting with you, a rage that welled up within him but remained locked away, unexpressed and contained. His heart grappled with the bitter frustration of loving you in silence, knowing that the truth, if revealed, could unravel both your worlds.

It was a moment born of tension and unspoken words, set against the backdrop of an abandoned classroom where dust motes danced lazily in the shafts of light streaming through the cracked windows. Barty had you pinned against the cool, peeling wall, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive urgency that stole your breath away. His lips found yours, weaving a tapestry of heat and affection that left you exhilarated yet slightly bewildered.

You had merely been strolling down the corridor, laughter trailing behind you like a forgotten melody, when Barty swooped in out of nowhere, whisking you away from your friends, locking you into this intimate bubble of desire. Time felt irrelevant as his mouth devoured yours, each kiss igniting a wildfire of emotions that sent sparks racing down your spine. But as exhilaration surged through you, reality began to encroach; Potions class loomed just around the corner, and if you were late again, detention would inevitably follow—a fate you had no desire to share with James.

“Barty! Merlin, what’s gotten into you?” you managed to exclaim, breaking away for just a moment to catch your breath. The intensity in his dark eyes remained unyielding as he didn’t respond but instead trailed soft, fervent kisses down to your neck, teasing the delicate skin along your collarbone. A part of you reveled in the sensation, heart racing with exhilaration, but another part knew you had to prioritize your responsibilities.

Again, you found your voice. “Barty, I mean it! What are you doing this for?” Your question hung in the air, heavy with curiosity. Finally, he paused, lifting his head to meet your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What? I can’t simply enjoy a moment with my girl?” he teased, his voice laced with mischief. You huffed, crossing your arms defiantly, which made his smirk falter, if only for a second. 

“Look, Precious,” he said, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. “I know this is out of the blue, but I can’t help but touch you after watching how that prat Gildory had his hands all over you.”

Confusion knitted your brow as you let your arms fall to your sides, a silent invitation that Barty seized without hesitation. He wrapped his arms around your waist, the embrace markedly gentler this time, resting his chin atop your shoulder. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, grounding you in this chaotic moment. “Gildory was being a nuisance, but he backed off once I told him to stop. He doesn’t get to have you like this, love; that’s my privilege,” you murmured into his ear, your breath warm against his skin, igniting a flutter of emotions in his chest.

Barty’s face lights up with a genuine smile, a rarity that replaces the confident smirk he usually wears. His voice drops to a soft whisper, filled with a mix of longing and sincerity. “I know,” he murmurs. “But it’s not the same.”

With a slight frown creasing on your forehead, you inquire, “What’s not the same?” 

He tilts his head, pressing a tender kiss against your neck, lingering there momentarily before pulling back. His gesture is both affectionate and pained as he gestures towards the closed door, a barrier that keeps the bustling crowds outside—from your fellow classmates rushing to their next classes—hidden from sight. “Being able to touch you out there,” he confesses, vulnerability tracing his words. “I think if I were able to touch you in public, I’d never let you go.”

You feel warmth spreading through your chest as you bite your lip, grappling with the tumult of emotions swirling within. You lean down to kiss the top of his tousled hair, feeling the softness beneath your lips. “I know this is a hard secret for you to keep,” you reply softly, “but it means so much to me that you’re trying. I know it isn’t fair, and I understand, but I’m not ready for everyone to know about us just yet.” 

He exhales a heavy sigh, but an understanding glint sparkles in his eyes as he nods. When he gently pulls away, you instinctively tighten your arms around his waist, determined to keep him close. “Let’s just stay like this for a few minutes, please?” you whisper, your eyes pleading, and he’s powerless to resist you.

Yet, he can’t resist a playful tease. “Ugh, you clingy little thing. I mean, I know I’m awesome, but surely I can’t be this awesome. Honestly, there has to be something seriously wrong with you to want to—”

You interrupt him with a soft kiss, feeling the warmth of his smile against your lips. “Stop spouting your nonsense and let me have this moment, won’t you?” you request, pulling back just enough for him to see the sincerity in your eyes. As he opens his mouth to retort, you silence him again with another kiss.

This time, he abandons his playful banter and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you with an iron grip. Your head is wedged snugly between his sturdy arm and the comforting expanse of his chest, and although it’s a bit squished, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. “What about Potions class?” he whispers into your hair, a hint of concern lacing his tone. 

You can’t help the smile that breaks across your face, a testament to the joy bubbling within you. “I can afford to be late just this once,” you reply, mischief twinkling in your eyes. “Besides, James already has fifteen tardies and it’s only been a week back from Christmas break.”

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

what is this feeling? LOATHING

🩷 Evan Rosier x Barty Crouch Jr. 💚 (rosekiller)

an: inspired by "What Is This Feeling?" from the Wicked soundtrack. I have a headcanon that Evan and Barty loathed each other when they first met, and after seeing Wicked last week….this is all I’ve been able to think about.

enjoy my brainrot

As soon as Evan Rosier, the exceedingly beautiful, polished, poised, and disgustingly wealthy heir of the Rosier name, and Barty Crouch Jr., a too-tall muppet whose father worked in—gag—government, laid eyes on one another during the Sorting Ceremony, it was loathing at first sight.

And then they discovered they’d not only be attending Hogwarts together, but sharing a bunk. Oh, the gloves were off. Hatred rose in them like a fervid flame, their hearts racing with outrage whenever the other so much as spoke, moved, breathed.

Evan hated the way Barty dressed, hapless, dreary, and ill-fitting, with far too few embellishments. Barty hated the way Evan laughed, posh and superior, like him laughing at your joke was some great and profound kindness.

They had waged a silent war upon one another. Evan, with his pack of pure-blood pups desperate for taste of Wizard Royalty, terrorized Barty with pity, with cruel jokes and japes. Evan’s grin never wavered, razor-sharp and wicked.

Barty, alone and ostracized by the sheer power of the Rosier name, took it up on himself to ruin as many small moments of Evan’s day as possible. Hiding behind doorways to scare him, just to see that smile falter. Answering questions before Evan had a chance to raise his hand. Taking the last pumpkin pastie because he knew they were Evan’s favorite, even though Barty hated them.

Pure, unadulterated loathing became the rhythm of their lives.

They’re sat in the Great Hall at breakfast after the first week, writing letters to their parents at opposite ends of the Slytherin table.

Evan’s script is tidy and sharp, not a misspelled word or grammatical error in sight.

“Dearest Mother and Father,” Evan writes. “Hogwarts has been a delight thus far, exactly how you described it, Father. And I’m deeply grateful for the additional trunks you sent to ensure I have all the comforts of home. But, despite your best efforts, there seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding with my dormitory assignment. I was under the impression I would be bunking with like-minded folks, Black’s and Avery’s and Mulciber’s. However, I have another roommate that is—” Evan tapped the quill to his lip, risking a glance down the long table at Barty.

Barty was sitting on the table, a scrap of parchment in his lap, a black cat perched on his shoulder to watch as he scribbled on the unbalanced sheet. His hair was stuck up at odd angles, his tie crooked and socks mismatched.

“Pop, they’ve put me with the royal fucking family,” Barty wrote, his pen punching through the paper on ‘g’. “I know you set this up to try and rub elbows, but Merlin. This one bloke, he’s so—” He turned his head to look at Evan, and their eyes snagged across the great expanse of breakfast food.

Evan scoffed, turning back to his letter and continuing to write. “He’s unusually and exceedingly peculiar, and altogether quite impossible to describe.”

Barty, his quill gripped tightly in his hand, scratched “…blonde.”

In third year...

“Salazar’s sakes, Evan, I don’t know how you can stand sharing a room with Crouch,” Lestrange spit while they walked towards the Common Room. “I would have hexed him ages ago.”

Evan shrugged, ever composed despite the smug satisfaction curling along his spine. “I’m never one to shy away from a challenge, Rab. Strife only makes us stronger,” Evan replied, turning at a bend in the corridor.

“Poor Evan!” Alecto cried, hanging on his arm. “You’re so strong for putting up with his antics. We’re all here for you.”

“We hate Crouch too!” They chorused.

Evan spotted Barty reclined in an alcove, a book in his lap, his long legs stretched high above him. A thrill rushed through him, burning and ravenous, strong enough to consume him.

Barty could sense as soon as Rosier entered his general vicinity, a crawling at the back of his neck, like he could taste the bastards vintage cologne on the air. But he held perfectly still as Evan and his groupies descended the corridor, even flipping a page he hadn’t read to appear more convincing.

At the last moment, right before Evan walked past him, Barty tossed his book onto the floor. Evan’s patent-leather boot snagged on the cover and he fell face first onto the stone. The group fell upon him, clucking and fussing like mother hens, and Barty slipped away, snickering to himself.

Bloody hell, he could do this forever.

In fourth year...

The one thing Barty and Evan had in common, that they knew of, was Regulus. The sly, stoic Black managed to befriend them both: Evan, because they shared a lot of complicated family history, and Barty, because he knew how it felt to be mistreated by the one’s who were supposed to take care of you.

All three were attending a party in the Slytherin common room despite being underclassman. Evan and Regulus were invited because of their names, Barty because he brought the weed. The party was rapidly descending into chaos, the prefect tied to the chandelier while the upperclassman raged, smashing priceless artifacts and incinerating paintings, fireworks exploding along the ceiling and raining ash over everything, the room thick with smoke.

Evan spotted Reg first, cornered by his older cousin, Rodolphus, and his friends, holding him up by the collar against the glass wall separating them from the Black Lake. He made a beeline towards them, red bleeding into his vision. His hand wrapped around the end of his wand, Stupify on the tip of tongue.

“Oi! Rudy!” Someone shouted, and everyone turned, Evan included. Barty stood on the bar, his wand out and pointed at the offenders in question. “Drop him, or else I hope you memorized a spell to grow gills!”

The room sucked in a breath.

Levitating several feet above their heads was a massive, marble bust of Salazar Slytherin. It was solid stone and must weigh a ton, though Barty showed no strain on his face, and it was aimed directly at the giant wall of glass.

Evan was stunned, looking rapidly between the bust, Regulus, and the slightly mad look in Barty’s eye. Something warm bloomed in his chest, and if he didn’t know better, he’d think it was admiration.

Barty spotted Evan a few paces from Regulus and the others, his wand flagging as he looked around, wide-eyed and smiling. Did he know he was smiling? Barty wasn’t sure. Evan had never smiled at him before, and it made his tongue feel thick in his mouth, his heart pounding even harder in his chest.

The bust was heavy at the end of his wand, but he held fast. “One,” he said, pulling it backwards a bit, then forward in a rocking motion. The room started to hum, panic rising. “Two,” he sing-songed, rocking it back a little farther.

“Fuck, fine! You’re mad, Crouch!” Rodolphus hollered, setting Regulus on his feet and smoothing his rumpled robes before stalking off into the crowd.

Barty blew him a kiss before jumping off the bar. But in his haste to check on Regulus, he dropped the bust. Several thousand kilos of marble came plummeting to the ground, students shrieking and running towards the exit.

“Leviosa!” Evan shouted, flinging his wand arm out, and the bust stopped a foot from the ground. The room loosed a collective exhale as Evan slowly moved it back to it’s pedestal, safe and sound.

The room erupted in cheers for Evan, who preened under the attention, but Barty found that it didn’t bother him as much as usual. IN the shuffle, he managed to reach Regulus, who was a little wild-eyed and tousled, but unharmed.

“Alright, mate?” Evan said, coming up on Barty’s left, close enough he could smell the fire whiskey he’d been drinking.

“Fine, yeah,” Regulus said, smoothing a hand through his dark curls like nothing at all had transpired.

Barty and Evan glanced at each other, a flicker of understanding passing between them. A chuckle escaped from Evan’s chest, and Barty smiled.

In fifth year…

“Do you shop in a fucking dumpster?” Evan shouted, riffling through Barty’s trunk.

“Depends on the dumpster,” Barty replied, blowing smoke out of the dorm window.

“Seven hells, you know, a polished outfit goes a long way.” Evan clapped his hands together. “I’ve got it!”

“Oh, Gods.” Barty stubbed his finished joint on the sill.

“I’m going to take you under my wing, Junior!” Evan turned to his trunk, determined to find something tolerable for Barty to wear to the Ravenclaw party. “You’ll be my newest project.”

“You really don’t have to do that.”

Evan clutched an ascot to his chest, nodding sympathetically. “I know, that’s what makes me so nice.”

An hour later, Barty stood at the center of the dorm. He was dressed in one of Evan’s emerald colored suit, enchanted to fit his longer frame. His dark hair shiny and slicked back with pomade, and he wore expensive, sterling jewelry from his head to his hands.

Evan’s mouth dried as he stared at his roommate, a familiar, but slightly different burn slithering through his veins. He’d worked so hard to clean Barty up, but now, all he could think about was ruining him again.

“This shit sucks,” Barty grumbled, pulling at his collar.

Evan chuckled. “But, you’re gonna grin and bear it, Bat. Because you’re going to be…?”

Barty grimaced. “Popular?”

“RIGHT!” Evan slapped the desk, then pointed a ringed finger at Barty. “But not as popular as me.”

“We’ll see, Rosie.”

And by sixth year, they were madly in love. Unadulterated obsession. And joined by a mutual loathing of everyone else.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 24 - Hint

@rosekillermicrofic September 24, word count 496

Previous part First Jegulus part

“They’re on their way back,” Sirius said, rousing Barty from his nap. “Oi, Crouch, go move that heap of junk, or he’s going to know something is up,” Barty stretched like a cat. His t-shirt rode up his abdomen, flashing his perfect abs. He peeked out from under his lashes and arched up even more, when he saw the appreciative looks on both Remus and Sirius’s faces. He loved being a tease. 

“I’ll be right back,” He stood up but immediately bent over to give Evan a sloppy, over-the-top kiss. He'd done heavy lifting today, he deserved to be a pest. 

His van groaned to life, and he patted the dusty dashboard. It had been through a lot with him, but he knew he’d have to part with it soon, there was no way it was going to get through its MOT and the amount of work it would need to be fixed would be astronomical, if it could even be saved. 

He moved the van around the corner, making sure he wasn’t in a permit-only area, grabbed the bag he’d hidden under the front seat and rushed back up to the flat to surprise Regulus. 

Barty went into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl. He opened the paper bag and dumped the contents into it before he artfully placed it in the middle of the coffee table, grinning like a madman at his little joke. Evan arched a brow at him but didn’t say anything.  

“Come on, James, give me a hint, why do you want to get me up here so urgently?” Regulus’s voice carried up the stairs as he let himself and James in the side door. Sirius facepalmed. 

“Oh, James,” He shook his head. Barty snorted. They should have sent Panda out with him instead of the bumbling puppy. At least she could keep her excitement contained. The key turned in the lock and the door opened.

“What the?!” Regulus started as he spotted them all crowded into his tiny living room. He walked in and stopped. “Are - are those my books?” He asked with tears in his eyes. 

“Barty and I broke into Grimmauld and got them for you,” Sirius beamed at him. Regulus threw himself into his brother's arms, squeezing him tight. His eyes fell on the coffee table and the bowl Barty had left there, filled with apples. Regulus rolled his eyes and looked up at Barty.

“Thank you,” He told them both before he dropped Sirius and went to run his fingers over the spines of his books. 

You did good, B.” Evan purred in his ear, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist. “How am I going to reward you tonight?” He whispered in Barty’s ear. 

“Oh, I can think of a few things,” He chucked. Evan nipped his earlobe. Clearly, this was punishment for his earlier antics. It would be hours before they could get away. Barty would just have to wait.  

Next part

[juniorlore]

regulus 100 percent wouldve started a hogwarts house elf only choir with him as the conductor and it would be his pride and joy. oh and one day pete walked in on a choir practice while visiting the kitchens one night and reg threatened him into keeping his mouth shut.

nobody really knows except for pandora but you bet once barty and evan find out hes not living it down, first his house elf best friend and now a house elf choir??? they start calling him the house elf whisperer

[itisme-rosie]

-- party first meets; marauders' era! regulus black, evan rosier, barty crouch jr. (separately) wherein one meets them at a party for the first time.

cw: fluff!! bartender evan, own characterization of evan and barty (kinda influenced by t*kt*k oneshots), flirty barty, probs a little ooc reg? pandora mentions in evan's and throwing up mentions in barty's.

[ i don't know what to tell you guys about this one. au where it's a perfect world and no one is fighting? haha. anyway, my characterization isn't perfect and it isn't 100% tiktok based, but yeah. it's a you like it or hate it moment. i've had this in the back of my notes app for so long too so the characterization is also months old. ]

masterlist | rules

[ evan rosier ]

"just how sure are you that that's even safe to put in your mouth, pandora?" i ask, eyebrows raised as i eye the cup she had in her hand.

"well, i trust the bartender, so," the blonde shrugs and takes a swig from the cup, a look of satisfaction on her face when the initial bitterness wears off.

"the bartender?" i ask, mouth agape, "you mean to tell me there's a bartender during slytherin house parties?"

"you would know if you came around when i would invite you to them," pandora says in a singsong voice, taking another sip and making a sound of satisfaction before offering the cup to me, "want a taste?"

"i don't know..." my eyes squint in suspicion, "do i?"

"it's really good,"

"i don't care what my mother says, you are a terrible influence on me,"

"one drink," she whines, "just one and i'll never peer pressure you into taking another one again,"

"you're terrible," i shake my head, sighing, "but fine - i better not have magically ended up face first in someone's toilet when i wake up tomorrow,"

pandora squeals in excitement, clapping happily before taking my hand and weaving through the crowd of students in the slytherin common room all the way to the back, where a transfigured mini-bar stood and behind the bar stood one of the handsomest (and most terrifying) students in slytherin -- evan rosier.

it was hard not have heard about him, or the rumors about veela blood running through his veins. maybe it had nothing to do with veelas and good looks just ran in their blood, we will never know. as i watched him pour out drinks, i suddenly understood why a multitude of students - male and female alike - developed some sort of liking for him. (okay, maybe i did too at one point in time during my early years in hogwarts but that is not the focus here, okay?)

pandora walks over to him, and he nods in acknowledgement to her before looking at me up and down.

"you remember them, right? i tell you about them?" pandora pats my shoulder, "well, they have never had a drink by you before, so, i obviously had to drag the over here to have a taste,"

"you say plenty pandora," evan deadpans, raising an eyebrow and smirking when pandora makes a noise of protest.

but evan nods, finishing off one drink before leaning against his palms on the counter, looking over me again in a way that had me shuffling behind pandora.

merlin, he was intimidating.

"you have any preferences?" he asks, voice smooth like butter.

"preferences...?"

"how hard do you want your alcohol?" pandora supplies.

"are you a lightweight? wouldn't want you passing out in the middle of the school hallways, merlin knows pandora won't be able to lug you all the way back to your dorms with how drunk she'll be at the end of the night,"

pandora makes another offended noise and her hand lightly swats the poor man's arm but he doesn't flinch. that alone was enough to tell me that he might have been already used to her antics.

"you're painting me in a bad light here rosier," she grumbles, "how am i supposed to convince her to come over to the next party now?"

"have you tried asking nicely?"

"...i've tried dragging her here with a bag over her head but who really keeps track - oh, there you are!"

i have little to no chance to protest before pandora latches onto one of her ravenclaw friends, the latter throwing his arm over her with loud laughter before they disappear into the crowd - presumably to disturb someone else in that friendship circle, but what mattered to me in that moment as that despite all her promises, pandora had left me unattended with one of the most intimidating students in hogwarts and he was watching me like an ant under a microscope, his arms flexing as they glided over the makeshift bar.

"she'll be back to check on you eventually," evan drawls out, sliding a dark glass that hid the color of the liquid inside over to me.

i went quiet and he must have sensed my apprehension to pick up the cup.

"pandora would strangle me if i slipped anything less than savory in there," he calls over his shoulder, pulling out bottles from a shelf behind him, "plus, i wouldn't want to scare you away already, not when i think that it'd be nice to have new faces to learn about,"

"meaning?" i ask quizzically, the first time i ever actually properly acknowledged him, pulling the glass closer to me.

he shrugs, "i know every single slytherins' - the ones old enough to drink, of course - order by heart, it's the same old, same old, party after party, new face means taking time away from that bunch -" evan nods towards the other side of the common room where pandora and the rest of their group stood, presumably causing havoc, with a fond smile, "- to help someone figure out just exactly what they want," his eyes find mine and i can't help the heat from warming my cheeks and the bastard didn't even try to hide the smirk he had on.

i hum in faux contemplation, looking away awkwardly and taking a sip before my eyes widen at the burst of flavors, "oh wow," i say simply, taking a bigger sip.

evan's head drops as he laughs to himself at my reaction and he lifts it again as he extends his hand towards me, "evan rosier, by the way,"

i smile back, shaking his hand, "nice to meet you,"

honestly, all i could think about was how nice he looked when he smiled - and if i should indulge pandora the next time she invites me to a party in the slytherin common room.

[ regulus black ]

bathroom lines pain me immensely.

you'd think that with the amount of students they have in this damn school they'd build more efficient bathrooms, but no.

true, there were more bathrooms around this floor, but those were too far away and far too hidden in dark hallways patrolled by the professors for half-drunk people to wander to so here i was, standing in line for the bathroom that i was positive held the same person for 15 minutes and counting.

i sigh, checking my watch and tapping my foot impatiently, the music blaring in the common room too loud for me to even think properly much less think to kick the door down just so i could pee.

the man behind me echoed my sigh, and he moved to stand beside me in the cramped hallway in such a way that i was pressed against the wall and i could catch every detail of his side profile plus the smell of booze and his cologne, a hint of a tattoo on his arm peeking out of his rolled up sleeves - and i catch myself gawking and i shake my head as if to rid myself of my delusions. but that's not the point, the point was that he reached his arm past my head to knock impatiently at the door.

then again, and again and i remained in the same position until he sighed and looked over at me.

"sorry about that," he says, leaning down so i could hear his voice.

"'s no problem," i murmur back, the alcohol in my veins increasing the chances that i would say something stupid if i kept staring at him, so i lowered my gaze to the shoes on my feet, "guess i'm not going to the bathroom anytime soon,"

with the dingy lighting in this part of the hallway plus the music pounding in my ear, it was hard to tell who exactly it was i was conversing with, not that it mattered at the moment - i was at this party to enjoy myself, not overthink about the identity of a strange man i met by the bathrooms. doesn't that just sound wrong?

"unfortunately, yes," the man grumbles, "but - nevermind,"

i raise my head to look at him, head tilting it to the side curiously, "hmm?"

"...i don't want to make you uncomfortable," he answers gruffly.

"ah," i smile tightly, "right, i see, thanks,"

the music fills the silence between us again and we both stay where we were, not moving a bit even though we knew there was no chance in hell whoever was in the bathroom was not coming out any time soon.

soon enough, he sighs again, "there's a bathroom in my dorm, if you're up to going in there,"

"well, why'd you line up in the communal bathroom instead of go up to your dorm to use the bathroom there?"

'so he was a slytherin then', i thought to myself. that narrowed down the possibilities but the list of slytherin students old enough to be partying (plus the ones that snuck in) was still pretty broad, but i needed to be on guard - a stranger at a party? no one can be too safe. i pat my wand through my clothes to make sure it was still in my pocket.

"my friends are barring the path to the dorms like a bunch of cavemen," the stranger says irritatedly, "they think i'm going to lock myself up in the dorm again,"

i stay quiet, mulling over this information, "would you have? locked yourself up in your dorm? no offense, but i'm guessing you aren't a big fan of the party scene,"

"i would have, and don't worry, i am indeed not a fan,"

silence again.

"well?" he asks, starting to fidget.

"hmm?" i look up at him and it takes a while for his earlier offer to register in my brain again and when it does, i start to sputter a little, "are you sure you won't mind? your dorm mates won't mind?"

"you've been waiting longer than i have and those morons are probably wasted somewhere," he shakes his head, "we'll slip in and out quickly, they won't notice and i don't mind,"

i think for a bit and my bladder decided to remind me that i was in desperate need of a bathroom so i nod, "sure - yeah, if you're sure, i'd appreciate it, thanks,"

"c'mon then," his head jerks in the other direction and i follow atfer him, almost getting lost in the crowd of people, but he was nice enough to glance back every once in a while to make sure i was still following after him.

the lights were brighter when we got to the main room, but he never turned around long enough for me to see who he was, but i could tell he was well dressed. extremely well dressed for a house party but dishevelled enough that he didn't look too out of place. i shake my head again, realizing that i was getting to lost in my own drunk thoughts, and when a pair of dancing students nearly separated me from him, i instinctively reached for the back of his white button-up and he looks back immediately and my hand drops as quickly as i reached for him when i realize who he was.

"regulus black," i murmur, my hand drawn to my chest like i had been burned.

no one was immune or deaf to the rumors about him, about his family. as unapproachable as he seemed, he was a decent enough person inside of the classroom in the sense that as a partner, he was more than capable of carrying his own in a task, basing on rumors, of course. it didn't help that he was also a beautiful man, though i would never say that out loud. i totally understand why the girls in our year found him attractive even though he was intimidating.

"still need the bathroom or do you not wish to be seen with me?" regulus deadpans and i am reminded that we are standing in the middle of the dance floor.

"aren't you worried about the rumors that could start if someone saw you taking me into your room? regardless of the real reason - which people will totally ignore,"

"i don't care at this point," he rolls his eyes, "hurry up if you still want to,"

i did. i still wanted (and needed) to use his bathroom. worries about rumors be damned.

his friends - crouch and rosier - had intercepted us at the steps and the music was too loud for me to comprehend what they started teasing him about, plus the way that i was still reeling from the fact that regulus black just offered for me to use his bathroom.

he taps on my shoulder and i look up at him, blinking and trying to ignore the looks barty and evan were giving us both out of the corner of my eye.

"wait -" i pause when we're halfway up the stairs, introducing myself with a shaky extended hand and he looks at me curiously.

"i thought i'd introduce myself before i intrude in your private space,"

he looks almost amused, glancing at the ground with a shake of his head and he takes my hand in his, shaking it firmly, "regulus, regulus black," he smirks and i feel my heart beat faster, "delighted to make your acquaintance."

[ barty crouch jr. ]

i was not a party person. maybe half a party person but not exactly the most social butterfly that i go hunting for parties just that if i was invited, i'd be more inclined to attend so long as someone was with me.

and right now, the *insert colorful insult here* that invited me to a party hosted by the slytherin quidditch team for their well-fought win against hufflepuff was no where to be seen.

re-entering the room after not seeing him anywhere outside, i sigh, feeling a dull throb in my temples as i contemplated just leaving without him and pretending to wave away his half-assed apologies for leaving me alone at a party tomorrow morning.

turning back to the door, sudden chanting of his name had my turning back and scanning the room for where the commotion was - a large table in one of the corners that hadn't been occupied by dancing groups and couples surrounded by a small crowd of people. curiously, i approach it. might as well tell him i was about to leave his ass alone here to navigate his way back to his dorm alone.

i worm my way to the front of the crowd, earning more than a few elbows to the side and snarky comments about taking up the good spot, but i could only gawk as i watched my friend chug a glass (an extremely large glass) of some mystery liquid i was glad i wasn't pouring into my mouth if the strong smell was all we were going on.

"seriously?" i groan, catching his attention when he lowers the glass and the crowd cheers, stopping when he hurls his guts out into a bucket.

feeling the weight of someone's stare into the side of my head, i glance in that direction and i immediately avert my eyes when they do indeed meet someone else's.

"that your date?" the person asks in a cocky voice, stepping closer to my date from the side of the table opposite me.

begrudgingly, he nods, clutching his stomach.

my eyes widen, "i am not -"

"barty crouch jr., love, a pleasure," the stranger - now barty, i suppose, sticks his hand out to me and i hesitantly shake it, which earns another round of cheering from the crowd around me and i fix a sharp glare at my friend, pulling my hand from barty's.

"what did you do?"

"made a bet that he now has to pay for - quite a few of them, actually," barty laughs.

"what does that have to do with me?" i ask snarkily.

"let me explain it to her -"

"he bet me 5 galleons i couldn't drink my own glass of that," barty nods at the now empty glass my friend drank from, "and it just built up from that until he ended up promising me a date with you,"

i stare at barty, then back at my sheepishly smiling friend, the moron was already rubbing the back of his head like he was anticipating when i'd hit him, "you absolutely massive piece of -"

my friend tugs me closer by the arm, whispering, "at least he's cute,"

"that is not the point!"

"i wouldn't have done it if he was ugly," he hisses.

i stare at him, the cogs turning in my head until it finally clicked, "you did this on purpose?" my voice goes up a pitch.

"in my defense, you were super into this guy when you first saw him in one of your NEWTS classes years ago, right?" he lifts his arms to protect himself from the barrage of blows i was about to rain down on him, "you were devastated when you didn't find him anywhere after!"

barty clears his throat and my cheeks warm when i thought he heard our conversation.

"nothing has to happen," barty raises his hands in surrender when i turn to face him, "i can walk you to your dorm and we can call it all even love,"

"i doubt it'll be that easy," i say uncertainly, watching the crowd around us disperse to rejoining the rest of the party.

barty's eyebrow quirks up with the corner of his lips, "don'tcha trust me?"

i make a face that makes him laugh, meeting his eyes head-on before i look away, "we've only just met," i shrug weakly, "can you really blame me for being apprehensive?"

"i suppose i can't blame you," he mimics my shrug and i let a small smile form on my lip.

"aha!" the man laughs triumphantly, "i made you smile,"

"i could have been smiling at anything, there's a lot of stimuli around here, the music, the booze -"

"or you could have just been even slightly amused by me," he interjects.

neither confirming nor denying his statement, i look around to look for my friend so we could both get back to the dorm but the sneaky son of a you-know-what had slipped away while i was distracted.

barty must have noticed how i was looking around because he laughed, "he tapped out when we were talking," he muses, "your friend is one sly bastard,"

"he is," i fume, "starting battles he leaves me to fight -" i give up on looking at him, staring at my fingers as they drum on the table and i sigh, my head drooping before i look up at barty again.

i tell him my name, extending my hand, "barty," i say when his hand envelopes mine, his name rolling off my tongue smoothly, "i hope it isn't too late to take you up on your offer?"

"you mean the condition you were forced into?"

"i'm trying to loosen up here," i grumble, pouting for a split second until i spotted his smirk.

he kisses the back of my hand, "i'll protect you from the dark hallways love, don't worry,"

[marauders-spookfest]

Silencing the Monster by Written_Willis

Rating: E

Archive warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Work Type: Fanfiction

Word Count: 7,750 words

Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr./Evan Rosier

Summary: Only six months after Evan lost his sister and Luna her parents. Halloween looks different. Their home looks different. Everything is different as they try to find their footing. BUT Barty’s antics remain the same and for that, Evan couldn't be more thankful.

[horrorosier]

lil snippet time !

thank u @sommerregenjuniluft and @moon-seas for the tags! im finally getting around to sharing a snippet, and despite it not seeming like it just yet, it is a little something for a jeggy fic idea i have swimming around in my brain!

Sure, there was the occasional helping hand of either Barty or Evan, but when Barty’s idea of helping a friend out is dramatically lounging back on Walburga’s black, velvet settee, an unlit joint hanging from his lips, there was only so much physical help Regulus received.  Barty never cared, that much is true. Where Regulus put on a mask around his family, Barty did the opposite. He’d lash out, a fox-like grin on his mouth, as he did just about anything to drive his father to the brink of insanity. It worked, though. Regulus cannot recall the last time Barty had to speak to his father. It came at a price, a rather hefty one, which meant Bartemius Crouch Jr. had been, for a lack of better words, forcibly removed from ever receiving a single penny from Bartemius Crouch Sr. Of course, Barty shrugged it off, saying something along the lines of not wanting that kind of dirty money, but deep down, Barty buried his secrets and truth, letting it crack his sternum with the sheer mass of unhealed trauma. Barty had never been too good at hiding his pain, no matter how hard he tried. He’d play it off as some sort of joke, refusing to draw attention to his misery because he was cool like that. However, Regulus is more than capable of reading a room. It stems from the years and years of attempting to read his parents and his parents’ circle; it was a means of self-preservation. But Regulus wouldn’t pry, not until Barty was ready. Evan was a bit better about it, or at least he tried to be. His demeanor was a bit rotten, not something that’s uncharacteristic of Evan Rosier, but his typically sullen morbidity appeared to flare up into something a bit more ghoulish. His sunken eyes and pursed lips became more prominent, and Regulus is stuck on the fact that it’s because he stared far too long at the brutally horrifying portrait of Druella hanging just above the second floor landing. The quietness Evan exhibited and practiced was a reflection of the years he spent being silent, still not finding a moment to own up to his own voice and verbalize his every waking thought to a crowded room. That’s where Barty and Evan differ.  It’s not just chance, but a fact that Evan despised Barty for it at first. Somewhere along the way, Evan became a little numb to Barty’s antics, maybe a little fond even. Not that Regulus would ever try to point that out because, despite Regulus’ general disdain towards life itself, he valued his life a little more than to fall victim to Evan’s sadistic fascination of scalpel-carving. You know, any normal person’s favorite pastime.

no pressure tags @fromagony @star4daisy @futurequibblerjournalist @orchideous-nox @ecstarry @itsjaywalkers @arviyya

[ellecdc]

mother I have a request if i may

the "i can do it myself" girl with "i know u can but sit down and let me" man aka barty

love your work lovie 🦋🦋

I've had this request saved for two months, and then last week when I was building my bed frame I was like "omg! this is it!", so THANK YOU for your request and for your patience in my writing <3

Barty Crouch Junior x fem!reader who can do it herself [538 words]

CW: the very last piece of dialogue is suggestive but SFW and not explicit

You’d been so focused on the next step in the assembly of your bed frame that you hadn’t even heard Barty’s arrival until he let his bags fall to the ground with a thunk and he gasped theatrically at you, causing you to drop the allen key in surprise.

“Treasure!” He whisper-shouted at you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh my god, Barty.” You let out breathlessly. “You scared me.”

“What are you doing!?”

You looked over at your almost half-assembled bed frame feeling rather chuffed at your progress. “I’m building my bed frame! Doesn’t it look good?” You asked proudly; your face falling when you turned at Barty’s silence to see his face contorted in what looked to be… offence? 

“Without me?” He deadpanned at that.

You blinked at him dumbly, a bead of sweat from your efforts moving from your temple to your jaw as you considered him. “What?”

“You just go ahead and start building stuff? Without me? When you have a completely competent and useful boyfriend who literally exists to build stuff for you?”

“Barty, I can build my own bed frame.” You chided, looking down at the instructions that actually contained zero words and only pictures.

You could build your own bed frame, and you’d been doing a damn good job at it too, thank you very much. 

“That’s not the point, babe.” Barty muttered as he stalked over to you and ripped the instructions out of your hands (pressing a gentle kiss to your head in consolation) and ignoring your petulant “oi!”

“I had it handled!”

“Yes, and now I’m here.” He argued without sparing you a glance.

“Barty.” You scolded severely. “I’m not useless. I can do things for myself.”

You watched as Barty’s shoulders fell and he lifted his head to look at you softly. 

“Treasure, I am more than aware of how capable and competent you are; that was never the issue.”

“Then what is this issue?” You asked him, reaching back for the instructions only to have him hold them out of your reach and taking your outstretched hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“The issue is that you shouldn’t have to do things for yourself; not always, not right now. Let me do this for you, yeah? It makes me feel good.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, so this is actually rather self-serving, is it? Doing my chores makes you feel good about yourself; it has nothing to do with me?”

“Now you’re getting it.” He agreed with a wink before moving his gaze between the progress you had made thus far and the instructions. “Not letting me do this would be really quite selfish, babe; do you never think of others?”

“Terribly sorry, Bee.”

Barty scoffed teasingly. “You should be; I’m dating a very rude girl.” 

“That’s mean; you’re mean.”

Barty looked at you incredulously. “I’m literally building you furniture right now.”

You shook your head at your boyfriend's antics and sighed. “Well what am I supposed to do now?”

“You sit there and keep looking pretty, Tres; then we can break in this bed frame.” 

He almost looked offended at the bark of laughter that elicited from your lips.