The Triwizard Tournament looms over Hogwarts like a stormcloud, its trials casting both shadows and sparks. You’ve barely registered the foreign students arriving when you first see him: Barty Crouch Jr. from Durmstrang. His sharp eyes and sharper tongue cut through the crowd with ease, and though his arrogance grates on your nerves, there’s something about the way he carries himself that lingers in your mind.

“Bet you think you’ve already won,” he drawls one evening, his accent curling around the words like smoke.

“Bet you think you’re the first Durmstrang student to try intimidation tactics,” you fire back, your chin lifting.

He grins, wolfish and wide, as though your defiance amuses him more than anything. Yet, as the Tournament progresses, that grin softens in stolen moments between tasks. You find him in the library once, poring over old texts with a furrow in his brow that vanishes the moment he notices you.

“I’m not here for small talk,” he insists, though he doesn’t leave. Instead, he lets you help him research, and for once, his cockiness takes a backseat to quiet focus.

Through midnight meetings and whispered conversations, the barriers between you begin to crack. He shares stories of his homeland, his hatred for the weight of his family name, and you find yourself sharing pieces of your life in return. But danger lurks in the Tournament’s shadow—a sinister plot that threatens both your worlds.

“Stay out of it,” Barty hisses one night, his fingers gripping your wrist with surprising gentleness. “I’ll handle it.”

“And let you take all the credit? Not a chance,” you retort, your heart hammering in your chest.

The line between ally and adversary blurs as you race against time, and the question lingers: can you trust the boy whose smirk hides more secrets than truths?