#barty001

[maddening-mulciber-blog]

House Call | Barty & Cassius

Cassius was maybe blowing this out of proportions just a bit. But it was a big deal! Mostly because no one ever dared to tell him no. With his horrific temper, they dare not to encourage his anger. But his father was a completely different case, and he certainly didn’t care or fear Cassius’s sharp rage. That almost made it worse somehow, seeing his anger completely disregarded as a childish tantrum. Which, maybe it was, but certainly not to Cassius HE needed someone to take him at least somewhat seriously! And he knew just the person who would listen to him, whining or not.  Cassius was almost more at home at the Crouch Manor than he was Mulciber estate, but really what it was is that there was no one brave enough to shoo him away. Letting himself in through the Floo, he handed off his coat to Winky, asking for Barty’s whereabouts. Of course Crouch Sr. wasn’t home, and thankfully, the Missus was out shopping. Nothing against Miss Crouch, he just hated bothering her, really, for her own sake. It was like handling something much too fragile for his clumsy hands. Much like he used to regard Barty. Something made of glass that would shatter in his hands should he handle the boy too roughly. How happy he was to find how wrong that assumption had been.  After being pointed to the right room Cassius was throwing open the door, boisterous as always, “Pennnnyyyy, it’s all falling apart, I had to actually go to work todayyyyy,” he whined quite loudly as he made his way to Barty’s side. Without hesitation he was grabbing the young man’s head snatching it against his chest, “It was horrible. I had to do paperwork, Pens, can you believe it? And it’s all over the fucking papers, I feel like a celebrity, but the kind who shit in King’s Cross during busy hour, not the award-winning kind.”  @bartcmius-jr

[lizarosier]

where; happy dragon restaurant

Who: Liza and @barty-jrouch​

Betrothals were a thing that Liza had grown up with, and was someone she had known was always coming. Evan refusing to even consider getting married had really worked in her favour, since Liza had used his refusal as a reason to refuse herself. Of course, she knew she had to be careful. Her parents could so easily just marry her off to some random pureblood man that she didn’t know. Liza didn’t want what. She hardly wanted to be married, and certainly not to a man that was going to expect an obedient, stay at home wife. That was not Liza, and she was actually quite happy when her parents had managed to arrange a betrothal with Barty Crouch. Sure she didn’t want to get married, but at least she knew him, and Barty wasn’t too bad.

She suspected from the outside this seemed like some sort of date. But Liza didn’t really see it that way. Sure, Barty was pretty attractive, and they had slept together on numerous occassions, but she didn’t really want a relationship. Liza didn’t want to be tied down, and she certainly didn’t want to change her last name. She liked and was proud of being a Rosier. She did not want to have Crouch as her last name at all.

But the pair were meeting at the chinese restaurant for some food. At least her parents would be happy that she seemed to be courting the man they wanted her to marry.

[frcnklcngbottom]

his week had been busy - far more busier than he’d like, frank had been so wrapped up in finishing school on the best note possible, that there were so many moments he was forgetting to embrace, time he wanted to spend with the people he cared about -- merlin, he hadn’t set eyes on alice as much as he’d like, but that was going to be a quick fix -- a quick glance at the prefect chart this morning, all he needed to see was CROUCH -- “hey, i missed you--” the boy started, winding around the corner, expecting to see HER there, because merlin was she punctual, but oh no -- fate had a sense of humour tonight, “barty --” the boy greeted stiffly - gaze falling on the crouch that he wasn’t expecting to see, “not the crouch i was expecting --”

@sycrx​

[siriusly-okay1]

date: 14 April, 1979 location: Arcturus Black’s estate open to: @dontcallmebartemius​

It took awhile for Sirius to make his rounds to everyone, but he tried to leave no one out. This included reintroducing himself to Barty. He’d always gotten along with Barty, even once he’d become a rebel child set on bringing down the family name. In some ways, he’d sensed a kindred spirit -- someone tired of the expectations of the father and looking to rebel against them. Of course, Sirius had taken it quite far whereas Barty, as far as he could tell, hadn’t done much about it at all. 

Sirius approached with a smile on his face. “Barty! It’s good to see you again.” His cheeks hurt a bit from all the smiling and charming he’d had to do tonight. Sirius felt a bit like a child again, dressed up in his finest while his mother paraded him around for everyone to see. Except this time he had to parade himself, making sure he convinced the most elite that he was one of them again, that he’d left his childish rebel ways behind him. “Are you enjoying the gala?” 

[bellatriixed]

where: the slytherin common room. when: sunday september 5th, 11:02pm. who: bellatrix black & barty crouch jr / @crueltykept

A small smirk placed upon her features, and her wand twirling in her fingers, Bellatrix wondered just how she would spend her night for amusement, especially since classes hadn’t really started back yet. Her eyes searching the common room of someone worthy, she didn’t seem to find anyone of interest, and it was because of this reason she decided to stand and leave the Common Room, to find her entertainment elsewhere. Her wand placed in its holster, she began to walk down the corridor adjacent to the Common Room, before all of a sudden she spotted Barty; someone who was exactly who she was looking for. Bellatrix’s smirk widening, she remarked, “Fancy catching you here Barty. Join me.”

[most-holy-from-hell-blog]

Amycus was pissed. Well, pissed wasn’t exactly the correct emotion he should be feeling, but he couldn’t help but be upset. He huffed and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, rubbing it off on his jeans. He took a couple steps back and stared up at the building. Shite.

Really, he shouldn’t be upset he’s no longer able to break into his friend’s flat. It’s actually rather rude that he often lets himself in. But they’d changed whatever kind of ward or locking spell was outside. Had someone broken in? It certainly wasn’t his fault that they changed it; though neither Barty no Bastan were ever very pleased when Amycus let himself into their home. Though he did often wander in at inopportune times. It wasn’t his fault they snogged all hours of the day, was it? No.  He’d have to knock, wouldn’t he? That really ruins the surprise. Amycus bounced on the balls of his feet, glancing behind himself at the street, then back up at the flat. Amycus walked up tot he door and knocked quite loudly a few times, then back down the steps to the pavement. He took a few more steps back to be at the edge of the sidewalk, looking up to the window that looked over the street. “Hey, Barty!” He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell at the window, “Rab! Hey is one of you home?!”  Hopefully that would work. 

[demetriayaxley]

Demetria stood outside Zonko’s Joke shop, looking warily at the looming facade. The streets were filled with schoolchildren, some not too much younger than her, their arms filled with bags of fizzing whizbees and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans. She remembered coming to Hogsmeade during her years at Hogwarts, though she couldn’t say she’d ever been particularly fond of the place; it was always crawling with professors and other students and there was never anywhere one could go to be alone.

Well, except the Shrieking Shack. But nobody ever wanted to go there.

After wandering down the streets of Hogsmeade, Demetria finally came to a stop on the hill overlooking the Shack; the building was as creepy and dilapidated as ever, and it seemed to creak and groan in the October breeze. This was where Demetria was supposed to meet Barty Crouch Jr. He was a few years younger than her, but she did have some memories of them standing on this very same hill as school children, speculating about ghouls and swapping ghost stories.