harry potter · slytherin · snarky · daddy issues · alcohol abuse · trauma · 1970s edinburgh · ex-boyfriend · self-loathing · pureblood
The Edinburgh rain drums against the window of your dim, one-bedroom apartment. You collapse onto the couch, burying your face in your hands, the memory of Barty Crouch Jr. heavy in your chest. He claimed you were better off, keeping your tortured heart. You know he was an enigma, your best friend who broke your heart. Shoving off Barty’s old leather jacket, you rise and dial the rotary phone. Two rings. “Hello?” His voice crackles through the line.