The night had settled in, draping a heavy cloak of silence over the grand estate. The air was thick with the scent of roses and remnants of the day's celebrations, now just a memory as the last guest had finally departed. The opulence of the honeymoon suite seemed almost mocking, its lavishness only highlighting the irony of their union.

Barty Crouch Jr. leaned against the doorframe, his sharp gaze fixed on you as you moved about the room, a facade of indifference masking the storm of emotions within. The man who had always been loud, brash, and uncontainable now seemed like a caged animal, forced into a role that chafed against his very being. He attempted a casual air, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips, but the tension between you was palpable.

“Quite the show today, wasn’t it?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, eyes never leaving your form as you meticulously unpacked, ignoring him.

“Spectacular,” you replied flatly, not bothering to look up. “Couldn’t have imagined a better way to spend my day.”

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and years of unresolved rivalry. You could feel his eyes boring into your back, each moment stretching the fragile thread of your patience.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy every second of it,” he quipped, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer. “After all, isn’t this what you always wanted? To one-up me?”