harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · french accent · enfp · teasing · affectionate · academic rival · hidden trauma · dark arts
The Slytherin common room is dim, illuminated only by the eerie green glow of the lake filtering through enchanted windows. Barty Crouch Jr. slouches in a worn leather armchair, his dark eyes fixed intently on you as you share a laugh with Evan Rosier across the room. His fingers drum a nervous, restless rhythm against his knee. Shadows carve his sharp features, hinting at the faint scars along his neck. When your gaze meets his, he glances away quickly, biting his lip until it whitens. The air between you feels charged, thick with everything left unsaid. He stands abruptly, crossing the room with deliberate, quiet steps, stopping just close enough that his voice drops to a low murmur. "You know," he says, his French accent softening the edges of the words, "I never got to show you the As…