Junior.

BARTY CROUCH JR. II RAVENCLAW ALUMNI II Twenty-nine THERE IS A BOY, WITH MYSTERIOUS EYES, AND LIPS SO FULL. THERE IS A BOY, WHO DOES NOT KNOW MERCY, NOR LOVE.THERE IS A BOY, WITH A HEART SO COLD AND A MIND OF A DEVIL.THIS BOY, THOUGH HE IS EVIL AND WICKED, THOUGH HE IS COLD...

[reguluslegatum]

date: july 26, 1979 location: ministry of magic status: closed for @crvcvdile

Regulus always  associated with people who were older than him. He never really minded, unless they started treating him as immature, and didn’t really notice unless he thought about it. Ever since he turned 17 it didn’t really matter anyway, technically, since he was of age, but there was always that sense that he was associating with people who knew that he was still somewhat a kid, or just recently a kid, or someone that they used to babysit. But with Bartemius, the age difference didn’t seem to affect the way they interacted. Yeah, they knew each other when Regulus was young and Bart was a teenager, but the older of the two never dismissed Regulus, never made him feel like he didn’t matter, and that’s why he always enjoyed his company, and never felt afraid of telling him things in fear of feeling stupid. Regulus fell into step next to Bartemius when he saw him walking, and nodded as he cleared his throat to get his attention. “ Hey, what’s up? ”

[crvcvdile-blog]

It was simple, the way Regulus fell in beside him, like it was natural. Nothing was natural however for a man like Bartemius, his entire life was built on coy manipulation and subtle control, he often found himself the envy of others but they couldn’t possibly understand how he’d suffered and how that suffering continued to this very day. Blame it on his daddy issues perhaps but there were days he longed to be seventeen once more, to make perhaps different choices. The man he was might not change but the circumstances---oh those devils. “Regulus.” He smiled brightly at the boy, perhaps the only person he felt comfortable enough around to even slightly relax his grip on the gentlemans words and emotions. “You look as though you have something to say.”

[crvcvdile-blog]

narcisscblck:

Her smirk only grew at his coyness. She wasn’t a stranger to his misdeeds, in fact, she reveled in it, looking up to him with aspiring eyes. Barty was quite the master at manipulation, a feat she so admired even in her youth, Hell would have to freeze over before Barty considered retiring his little black book of misdeeds.  ‘ Oh, I’m sure, ’  her voice drawing out each word. 

There was an appreciation Bart had for Narcissa, in a few respects, and his association with the Black family seemed to only grow. While he respected her he did not deal well, internally, with those that felt they knew him or could pal around so to say. With a few wrinkles gracing his forehead he cleared his throat softly. “Is this an attempt to flatter me?” Though quite good at reading others and situations Bart wasn’t always so clear on what was meant, his social graces did not always translate to social ease. But pleasant, always pleasant. 

[crvcvdile-blog]

narcisscblck:

Narcissa held the cup and saucer between deft fingers, taking a sip of it herself – a fine cultivation of black tea from a plantation in the heart of China.  ‘ Nothing like that really gets to Bella, which is something I’ve always admired about her, and while I love my dear sister Andromeda, she has her screws in a little too tight. She’s far too stressed out already from planning the wedding of a century, she doesn’t need the entire Ministry breathing down her back about the attacks. ’  The corner of her mouth tilted upwards at the question,  ‘ I’m perfectly fine, darling. And you ? What deliciously nasty trouble I’m sure you’ve gotten into lately ? ’

He took in what she said in appraisal of her sisters, he didn’t understand the urge to protect, he had no siblings after all. But at least she could be honest with herself, sometimes, in regards to the elder Black girls. He noted her amusement and almost laughed at how she assumed. Of course, she gracefully avoided giving him any details on how she felt or thought, skillful to say the least. “I have no idea what you mean Cissa Darling, I am the very picture of etiquette and gentlemanly behavior.” In the back of his mind however he ran through his list of assignments and less than scholarly behavior. 

[crvcvdile-blog]

narcisscblck:

She snapped at a house elf to start pouring their tea, settling in her own seat.  ‘ You know Bellatrix couldn’t give any less of a damn about it, I’m not so worried about her. ’  Narcissa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear,  ‘ Andromeda on the other hand is a different story. She’s never really been met with consequences as I’m sure you can guess. ’

He offered his cup but didn’t make eye contact with the creature, the tea hot and aromatic, the Blacks had fine taste. “Yes, I’ve also found that Bellatrix can remain quite unaffected, a credit to her character.” He didn’t often compliment Bella in public but this was light enough not to bother with such. “Andromeda does not hide her distaste or frustration well, that is true.” He sipped his tea, he could care less about Andromeda and the thought of her suffering gave him a bit of a thrill. “And you, my dear?”

[narcisscblck]

DATE: july 20th LOCATION: black family estate STATUS: closed to @crvcvdile

‘ I believe you and I are overdue for tea, ’  she said, gesturing for him to sit on the plush chair opposite her.  ‘ And I’m terribly sorry for that. But what with the investigation going on, I’ve been busy with making sure my sisters are doing okay. ’

[crvcvdile-blog]

He arrived in the fireplace and yet somehow managed not to get covered in soot and ash, a particular talent of his. Straightening his jacket he made his way to the sitting room for his tea with Narcissa, the invite he’d received in her lovely handwriting in his pocket. “You apologize too much Narcissa, truly.” He took the seat offered. “And are they, doing okay?”

[crvcvdile-blog]

mary-md:

When she explained to herself that she wasn’t completely sure who Barty was, she meant it in the sense that she was unsure of his motives, his true personality, his identity. She knew of his father of course, she knew that whenever Barty spoke of him there was an edge to his voice that seemed out of place and she knew that no matter what had been happening, he had always been there for her when she had needed him the most. It had confused as much as it had delighted her. She had lost herself but he was helping her to rediscover who she was and raise her up.

“Your father sounds like a stick in the mud” she said, bluntly, taking the chair opposite him when it was offered to her. A smirk played on her lips when he remarked on how tired she looked and she knew for sure then that she looked as tired as she felt. “I was up before the crack of dawn. Tell me the truth, how bad are the bags under my eyes?” she asked, leaning forward, elbow propped up on the table, chin propped up by her hand. Her eyes had been dropping every so often that morning, she had felt it, so surely they looked terrible. 

“Thank you, this looks lovely” she said, pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice and finishing it one go, before refilling her glass. “You spoil me, Barty” she smiled, “and you’re up rather early. What are you up to, huh?” she asked, fingers dithering over the selection of pastries as she made her choice.

All he could do was laugh softly, if only she knew. No one understood why Bart hated his father so much and no one ever could, so he never told. It wasn’t that he was looking for compassion really, he’d never been given any so how could he long for it? But somehow he knew if anyone would offer it, it would be Mary and he didn’t want to trust her with his secrets when he was planning to destroy her one day. For now he wanted to cultivate an easy friendship, though he felt this still quite mentor and student. 

“He was, actually.” He tipped his head in her direction, as if giving her a point for the true statement. He brought a small pastry to his lips, he rarely indulged when it came to food, finding other pleasures much more appealing to his brand of gluttony. “Ah, not half as bad as you think. I just happen to know you well enough to tell.” He assured her, he tried anyway. 

“Of course.” He grinned as she began to partake in the offer. “I have no one else to spoil, would you prefer I didn’t?” He teased, knowing full well she’d likely never had meals this extravagant, for breakfast, in her life. “Up to? You make me sound like a villain. I’m merely here to examine a business opportunity. I’m not just a pretty face, you know, I have responsibilities.”

[crvcvdile-blog]

skeetersrita:

    the petulant smirk on her lips only grows bigger once he asks her if their conversation would be off record. there is something about being known for her journalist abilities ( the potential of ruining lives with one article ) that makes her feel more confident – more alive. “well now, junior, what type of reporter would i be if i vowed secrecy when you just might give me information that could change the fate of the wizarding world?” rita asks, a chuckle escaping shortly after as she places her empty glass on the corner. “don’t worry, we are absolutely off the record”, the woman lies through her teeth before signaling to the bartender to get her another firewhiskey. “don’t you see it as a scandal? have the ministry list be leaked just so easily? have so many names printed and accused when there is no proof? it seems scandalous to me. chaotic and reckless, even.”

Every nuance of her body language was noticed, Bart had become an expert in the careful art of observation. The smirk, the way she might move to listen better, the clear indication that nothing he said would ever be off the record, he caught it all. But when she called him Junior his amused attitude came to a grinding halt and the villain inside him awoke. NO ONE called him by that moniker unless they had express permission and a nobody like Rita Skeeter certainly had not been granted such an honor. However Bart was sure if he got nasty with her it would end up in print and that was the last thing he wanted in the end so he smoothed his rough edges back down before he spoke. “I’d love to believe you my dear.” he chuckled before going on anyhow, choosing his words carefully. “do you honestly believe it was leaked by accident?” The very idea was laughable to him, no one could be that careless, especially an organization like the Ministry, with so much to lose. 

[connectivitty-blog]

cell phone headcanons

send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including:                              - what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone                              - what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone                              - what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone                              - my muse’s last text to your muse

[crvcvdile-blog]

mary-md:

She had been awake for hours, long before the sun had risen in the sky and woken up the rest of the world around her. Ollivander took his work very seriously and as his apprentice she knew that she needed to take her learning as equally as seriously. However, after five mugs of extra strong coffee, containing three heaping spoonfuls of sugar and little to no milk, she had still almost fallen asleep at the counter, which had prompted Ollivander to send her out to get some fresh air and a bite to eat - as long as she brought him something back, which she always did.

She walked through Diagon Alley, happy that for the most part it was deserted apart from a few early birds who had obviously woken as quickly as possible in order to beat the rush. Leather boots tapping softly against the pavement as she headed for her favourite breakfast spot, she was glad that she could simply walk and think, without fear of literally bumping into anyone. It wasn’t until she was almost at her destination that she took stock of her surroundings and noticed a familiar face, half hidden behind the Daily Prophet her was reading. Smiling to herself, she made her way over.

“Do you really need to be so formal with me, Barty?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. She leaned down against the back of the chair and smirked across at him.

The bright young face of Mary Macdonald greeted him and he was pleased, his little protege, so to speak. Mary was an innocent in the truest sense of the word and she would never amount to much, not without his help so he had given it. Call it a hobby, a distraction, but he enjoyed the ruse of helping her, seeing her rise due to his influence, basking in the glow of her innocence. It was good for his skin, at the very least. 

“You forget my dear, I am always this formal. My father wanted me to be a gentleman and so I am.” He replied with a bow, bent at his chest in his seated position. “ You look tired, join me for breakfast?” He gestured to the seat across from him, curious as to how she was doing, what she was thinking. It was one of the reasons Bart wanted to become a legilimens though thus far the practice had not been as successful as he’d hoped. 

A small gesture to the waiter brought fresh coffee and pumpkin juice and a literal spread of fruits, pastries and bacon. “Help yourself.”

[skeetersrita]

date: july 8th, 1979 time: 9:00pm location: the leaky cauldron status: open

    she could still feel rage boiling down her veins, the mere memory that xenophilius lovegood had gotten a scoop such as the ministry’s list of suspects being more than enough to keep her off balance. truth be said, most of the time she thought the man to be nothing but mediocre – however, it was still his name that everyone was whispering. rita couldn’t care less about who had been accused, not one of the names had particularly caught her interest ( though she would definitely take a second look once she had calmed down ). but the idea that someone had possessed such information and it was not her drove her insane and she knew she had to come up with something just as scandalous to get attention back. for now, however, all she could think of was a strong firewhiskey and perhaps a good cigarette to brush her nerves away. as usual, however, the leaky cauldron was crowded and a couple of drinks in rita had decided to chit chat a tad bit – hoping one of the idiotic people around her would have some information of her interest. “so that list, huh? quite the scandal. were you surprised by anyone in it?”

[crvcvdile-blog]

Bart turned, his back previously to one Rita Skeeter, and smiled his crocodile toothed grin. “Is this, off the record, dear Skeeter?” He swirled the amber contents of his glass, the ice clinking softly as he kept his eyes on the reporter, the kind of person just as subtle and manipulative as he could be. “Scandal, how so?” The list took names from more than one side of the conflict, though Bart couldn’t be positive about a couple of them, he knew that much. Arm on the bar, he leaned into it, appearing as interested as possible in her and what she had to say.

[crvcvdile-blog]

date: July 16th location: breakfast place, diagon alley status: open 

It had been an interesting couple of weeks, Bart had been told to lay low after the charity ball, an event who took great pleasure in both attending and terrorizing. Due to his connections within the ministry he had found the list of suspects, mentally took note and disappeared again. Now things were beginning to heat up again and he couldn’t resist the panic and fear in the air. 

With an ironclad excuse, and the photos to show off from his vacation, he came back to town with a jaunt in his step. Nothing like the demise of muggles to put a smile on one’s face. There had been questions when he got back but he was able to field them all with ease. Now, sat at the smaller breakfast spot in diagon alley reading the paper he was not entirely surprised to be approached, folded his paper, crossed his legs and smiled at his new breakfast companion.

 “Good morning, how can I help you today?”

[crvcvdile-blog]

etlestrange:

Around them a cascade of sensation; the smell of burning caramel and butterbeer, the iron and the stone and the laughter scattered between words. And then the two of them, individuals momentarily without motion in a sea of it shifting. Focus comes vividly in the eye of the storm, all on the set of Bartemius’ shoulders, the dark of his eyes. The red of his mouth as he speaks.

The stillness stretches. Breaks on the curl of Rodolphus’ lips.

“Shall we?” Head tilting to the side. Almost imperceptible. Their gaze never leaving Bartemius to indicate the direction of an inconspicuous exit, one leading to the corridors beginning a maze of ministry offices.

Perhaps you do. Perhaps we should. But it is expectation, not askance in the flicker of Rodolphus’ gaze.

Like a hawk he never took his eyes off Rodolphus, the other was hyper focused and the intensity of the exchange had Bart hooked, line and sinker. To look away now would ruin it all but his dark eyes flickered to a door down the far hall, one he knew would be unoccupied and left alone.

This knowledge flooded him both with lust and adrenaline, to escape the crowd, which he loathed, and fulfill a carnal desire with his most coveted plaything was an opportunity he could not let escape. 

Without hesitation he led the way toward the room, wrenching the door open and walking inside, undoing the button on his robe as he heard the door shut and the click of a magical lock. 

“I was not sure you would come tonight?” he admitted, though there was no melancholy in his words, only curiosity.

[le-immorte]

[hellothisistruth]

He’s toxic. His smile will poison you. His boyish charm dangerous. The glint in his eyes as he challenges you to do something devious is lethal.

(via iolanthepeverells)

[crvcvdile-blog]

narcisscblck:

‘ Ha,’  she shook her head fondly and took the offered drink, taking a small sip.  ‘ The social faux pas might be worth it. ’  Her eyes roamed around the atrium, trying to find something to capture her interest.  ‘ Maybe if we moved farther away we’ll be able to keep our hearing. How about the game booths ? ’

“I agree with you.” and what a chance to embarrass a few who were thinking the same thing, wondering if they’d done silent or wandless magic. In fact, he found that worth it and performed the charm surreptitiously on the winds section, the noise only worsening. “Well, not much of an improvement.” He innocently sipped his drink and watched the faces of a few become frantic momentarily. “Let’s get away from this train wreck, game booths it is.”

[crvcvdile-blog]

narcisscblck:

Barty was one of the only few she didn’t dread associating with. Though he is no stranger to her sharp tongue and eye-rolls, they’re more in good humor than the scathing remarks she reserves for those who annoy her at best.  ‘ Was that in this week’s Witch Weekly’s BeWitching New Fads ? I must have missed it. ’  She grimaced at the botched version of Berlioz’s Dance of the Sprites, finding the high pitch of the wind section grating.  ‘ And let me guess ? What ever this noise is is the new funeral march ? At least now we know the dead can’t hear. ’

Truly humorous, why not let himself be actually amused by her remarks, they were clever at least. “Yes, I should be sure to send you a copy of the article, most fascinating really.” He stopped a server and took two flutes of champagne, handing one to her. “I wish a silencing charm wouldn’t be so obvious.” He’d perform one on himself if he weren’t looking forward to what was coming.

[crvcvdile-blog]

caniislupin:

He FREEZES when he sees who it is he’s just bumped into, offering up a small nervous smile as the best apology he can muster, seeing as his throat’s suddenly dried up and his tongue turned to DUST. Remus nods along as Barty puts forth his own apology, softening slightly, not realizing just how tense he’d become so quickly. It seems sincere enough, those he doesn’t entirely miss the steely GLINT of the other man’s dark eyes. 

“My fault, I’m sure,” he murmurs, drawing back as unobtrusively as he can manage. Eyes dart around the room, taking in Barty’s words. “It’s quite a turn out, yes. I don’t think ANYONE expected this many people or else someone would have thought to use an Undetectable Extension Charm on at least one of the rooms,” he muses, more to himself than to add anything to the conversation. Too many people for his personal tastes, actually. All crammed together in such close quarters, screaming, running about. He might actually need to hibernate for a month after this. Dorcas, I hope you’re happy. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, at least?” His attention turns back to Barty, offering another tight smile he hope appears FRIENDLY instead of terse.

Immediately he senses the man tensing and wonders why. Bart wears his mask to perfection and as far as those outside the Death Eaters he’d be thought of as no more than Barty Crouch’s son, heir to a fortune and a business and a title. A silly rich boy and no more. Perhaps it was the other’s instinct and the barely concealed rage as they bumped into one another that made the other so instantly uncomfortable. Bart relaxed immediately to assuage the tension. 

“The crowd my good man, it could not have been avoided.” He would have clapped his shoulder if he wasn’t concerned the boy would take it the wrong way. “Why is that, that no one expected such a turnout? Is our society so uncharitable?” Bart didn’t care for crowds but he was above petty complaining. 

“Oh yes, there is ice cream after all.” What a joke, this whole event.  But of course, this was not someone to say such a thing to.