#p:barty

[queenzephyr]

El que se familia fuera la anfritiona de una cena ya era algo bastante raro para Zephyr, pero tal como le había pedido su padre esa noche se arregló con uno de sus mejores vestidos y el maquillaje discreto y femenino que tanto la caracterizaba, para después al estar lista y bajar a la sala encontrarse con los señores Crouch y Barty acompañando a sus padres. Tras haber saludado propiamente a los mayores se acercó a Barty para susurrarle —¿Sabes que es lo que esta pasando?— ( @crouchjr​ )

[arosenamedevan-blog]

@bartyisms

hogwarts school grounds; september 10th, 1976

The gentle breeze sent a light shiver down his spine. It was suprisingly cool for September and Evan foud himself thinking that maybe he should have brought a coat. But there had been no time. And truth be told, he hadn’t thought of it. Hadn’t thought of anything but this. Them. Alone. 

There was something strange in his chest, an ache Evan couldn’t describe or even begin to understand. But it wasn’t necessarily bad, just... alien. They hadn’t had much opportunity to talk since the train, had bumped into one another in the hallways, of course, exchanged quick smiles in passing but nothing more. 

And now Barty was right next to him, close enough to touch, close enough for Evan to hear him breathing. He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. Something in between absolute terror and staggering euphoria. Some of it might be the alcohol, too. He hadn’t had much, he never did, but the little he’d had was just enough to make everything feel a little hazy. 

“A feather of a Hippogriff.” he repeated unnecessarily. It wasn’t too hard to remember. “That should be achievable, don’t you think? At least we don’t have to go for a midnight swim.” And while he had to admit that there was a certail allure to the idea (he did his best to banish the sudden image of Barty’s bare skin in the moonlight from his mind), this was hardly the time and the place. They had a mission to complete.

[narcissa-antiquissima]

What a Sweetheart || Narcissa & Barty

It was no secret that this generation of Blacks had no heirs--no legal ones, that was, given that the only child who could potentially called an heir was the product of a crossbred union wiped from the family tree. Children were mentioned whenever Narcissa and Bellatrix were with family, their marriages making them the most likely contenders for producing legitimate progeny. Bellatrix had gotten the worst of it, but attention was starting to shift to Narcissa, whose stomach remained--to her disappointment as well as her mother’s--entirely flat.

She spoke (subtly, in a way that would not invite tabloid attention) to friends who swore by their fertility methods, to women with children who knew the ways of love that would cause a stirring in her belly. Narcissa was not yet desperate, but her sister’s barren womb was causing her more worry than she was comfortable with.

The wives and daughters of government officials were her frequent companions, given Lucius’ friendships with the men. Narcissa found herself often at tea with one nobleman’s wife or a diplomat’s cousin, complimenting the color of their drapes and soliciting information on ridding them of pixies with a touch of insight into political leanings mixed in. Today’s visit was Mrs. Crouch, a lovely wide-eyed woman whose voice might have been too high-pitched for Narcissa’s liking but always let slip the juiciest gossip and news. Mr. Crouch was opposed to Lucius in a vague sort of way, but the missus never seemed to mind that when Narcissa came calling.

She was praising her son this afternoon; his grades were so high the Minister had told Barty Senior that he might have a place in the Ministry come graduation, the mother beamed. “Perhaps the Ministry will become a family business,” Narcissa teased, making her companion laugh. “Is he home today? I must congratulate him.”

[layered-in-lies]

This Place About to Blow || Barty & Peter || New Year's Eve 1978

Location: Trafalgar Square

Time: Almost 11:59 P.M

That was the last time he bought a drink recommended by Sirius. Never again. Peter scrubbed a hand over his face, pushing his hair back with a tired sigh before he stared around blearily. Maybe I should just go home. He gave the thought a good deal more consideration that he probably should have, but his warm buzz had already deteriorated into a foggy exhaustion and all he wanted to do was roll into bed and sleep for a day.

Somebody bumped into him and he twisted right into a barely covered rack of what had to be double D’s. Merlin’s beard I’d die if witches dressed like muggle teens all the time. He lifted his face, a smile on his face and managed what he hoped was a calm ‘Heeeey’ but by the way her lip curled and her eyes narrowed he suspected he just sounded like a stoned jackass. She turned back to her friends, and Peter savored the memory of her perfect breasts for a moment as he pushed deeper into the crowd. Order business. That’s why I can’t leave.

He had responsibilities. Someone had to save those beautiful muggles from certain death, and he was just the order member to do it. He snorted at his own thoughts and tugged at his jacket, checking to make sure his wand was in place. It was. He yawned, and turned slowly. He knew James was likely with Lily, but he had no idea where Sirius and Remus had gone. Not seeing his friends (or anyone else for that matter) Peter aimed for the small alley a few yards away.

It took him about five minutes to weave through the throngs of people, but once he reached the alley (apart from the drunken couple fucking deeper in the shadows, it was much calmer and quieter. Pitching a round shoulder against the dirty brick, Peter let his head dip to rest against the rough surface. Just for a few minutes. It would be fine. Christmas was fine. They’d be fine now. He knew it was probably the liquor talking, but he was too warm and tingling to really argue with it. So with one hand in his pocket wrapped around his wand, Peter nodded off, his countenance going slack as he contented himself with a brief little doze as only a rat could manage in the midst of such noise and excitement.

Everything became white noise. A low hum that enveloped him like a giant ball of cotton closing around him. A sliver of drool escaped one side of his mouth as the sedative-like effects of the alcohol and food pulled him down into the numbness of sleep.

BOOM!

Peter jerked away from the wall as fragments of dirt and something wet splattered across his face. He blinked rapidly trying to clear his brain and stared sluggishly at the crowd of people to the left of his little resting spot where one person had apparently been if the body parts were any indication. Chaos descended like the turbulent winds of a hurricane just before the eye slides into place. He thought he heard his name, but it was the appearance of a masked figure that finally prodded him into action. Peter’s heart slammed in his chest as he grappled with his coat, trying desperately to draw his wand out.

[cunningsmythe-blog]

What The Future Holds || Sebastian/Barty F2F

*edges cautiously down to the dungeons, tugging his robes tighter around his thin frame as he searches for Barty* Professor?...