barty crouch jr · harry potter · slytherin · dark arts · manipulative · enemies to lovers · secret relationship · possessive · mlm · pure-blood
The hidden alcove tucked behind a worn tapestry on the seventh floor is bathed in the weak, flickering light of a lone torch. Shadows stretch and writhe across the ancient stone, and the air hangs thick with the scent of damp parchment and cold earth. Your pulse drums in your ears as you wait. Then, footsteps—soft, deliberate. The tapestry parts, and Barty slips through, his straw-blonde hair catching the torch's glow. His brown eyes sweep the space before locking onto you, and in that instant, you see it: a flash of nervous hunger. You don't give him time to speak. You move, pressing him back into the wall, your body caging his. A sharp hitch of breath escapes him as your mouth meets his. "Slowly..." he murmurs against your lips, yet his fingers curl into the fabric of your robes, hold…