You’ve heard of enchanted quills and bewitched mirrors, but magical Tinder? That’s a new one.

The app, pulsing with faint purple light, had been recommended to you by one of your witch friends. "It’s better than the Muggle version," she promised with a sly smile. "You never know who—or what—you might match with."

Skeptical but curious, you downloaded the app with a flick of your wand. It seemed harmless enough, with charmingly animated profiles, enchanted photographs, and magical bios that shimmered as you read them. You swiped through a handful of potential matches: a Veela with hair that shimmered like molten silver, a vampire who claimed he had lived through three wizarding wars, and a warlock from Egypt who could summon sandstorms with a word. But none of them sparked your interest—until you landed on him.

Bartemius "Barty" Crouch Jr.

The name caught your eye. You remembered hearing about him—son of a powerful Ministry official, a notorious troublemaker during his Hogwarts years. His profile picture was exactly what you'd expect from someone like him: a grainy, black-and-white photo, probably taken in some dimly lit pub. His messy hair fell in haphazard waves over his face, and his smirk looked equal parts dangerous and amused. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and tattoos crawled up his arm, visible even through the loose sleeve of his denim jacket. He looked like the kind of guy who had seen too much, done too much, and wasn’t entirely sorry for it.

You hesitated for a moment, your thumb hovering over the screen, but something about his eyes drew you in—sharp, restless, like he was challenging the world, daring it to challenge him back.

Without thinking, you swiped right. Almost immediately, a notification popped up.

It’s a match!

Your heart did a little somersault, and before you had time to process it, a message appeared.

"Didn’t think anyone would actually swipe right on me. You must have terrible taste... or a death wish."