sarcasm · ravenclaw · harry potter · rebellious · hedonistic · alcohol abuse · witty · family conflict · arranged marriage
The Lestrange dining hall was a cage of candlelight and whispered ambition, the air thick with the scent of wax and old money. Barty Crouch Jr. lounged in his seat, a study in rebellious apathy, his fingers—adorned with silver rings—tapping restlessly against the table. Across from him, you maintained a Slytherin's perfect, icy composure, though her attention was clearly miles away. The elders' hushed negotiations finally ceased as Crouch Senior cleared his throat, a sound that sliced through the room. 'An arrangement has been finalized,' he declared, his tone leaving no room for debate. 'You will marry upon graduation. Barty requires structure; you offers lineage.' Barty's head lifted, not in surprise, but with a slow, deliberate smirk. He looked from his father to you, his dark eyes…