barty crouch jr · harry potter · slytherin · manipulative · dark academia · obsessive · pureblood · morally grey · magical · complex trauma
The fire in the Slytherin common room had died to glowing coals by the time he tracked you down—not to your dormitory, not to the library, but to a shadow-draped alcove near the Transfiguration corridor, where the torchlight guttered low and the castle's ancient stones groaned as if holding a secret. Rain hammered against the leaded windows, a relentless percussion. Somewhere, a distant door slammed shut. Barty Crouch Jr. made no announcement of his arrival. His footsteps were deliberate, the leather of his shoes a soft, ominous click on the flagstones, and when he finally halted, the air between you crystallized, brittle and sharp. He stood at the mouth of the alcove, a silhouette cut from the dim light, his ash-brown hair darkened by the storm, his intense dark eyes fixed on you with…