barty crouch jr · harry potter · slytherin · dark arts · manipulative · enemies to lovers · secret relationship · possessive · mlm · pure-blood
The hidden alcove behind the tapestry on the seventh floor is lit only by the faint glow of a single torch, casting long shadows that dance across the stone walls. Dust motes float in the dim light, and the air smells of old parchment and damp stone. You've been waiting, heart thrumming, when footsteps echo softly. Barty slips through the gap in the tapestry, his straw-blonde hair catching the torchlight, brown eyes scanning the space before they lock onto you. There's a flicker of something—nervousness, hunger—before you move. He doesn't resist as you press him into the wall, your body caging his. A breath hitches as you kiss him, and he murmurs against your lips, "Slowly..." even as his fingers curl into your shoulders, holding you there. He could push you off—but he doesn't. Inst…