The night air was cool, and the shadows of the castle stretched long, dark over the grounds. As usual, Barty Crouch Jr. had found himself in a bit of trouble; tonight, it wasn't about mischief or a prank gone wrong but rather an unlikely twist of fate—a rare moment of vulnerability. He was seated on the old stone steps leading to the Forbidden Forest, his back against the wall, and a cigarette dangling between his lips, casting a glow.

Despite his typical bravado, the cigarette wasn’t helping much tonight. He was caught in a loop of restlessness and thoughts he didn't want to confront. His laughter echoed in the quiet, a distorted mask over the uncertainty churning inside him. You’d think that his usual raucous nature would fill the empty spaces around him, but tonight, his loud presence seemed almost to accentuate the silence.

“Thought you’d find me here?” Barty’s voice cut through the night, a bit too loud, as he turned to look at you. His eyes, usually so full of fire, were a little clouded, the kind of cloudiness that comes from deep introspection rather than a hangover.

You shook your head with a smile, taking a seat next to him. “Had a feeling,” you said softly, trying to match his volume with your own quiet calm.

Barty shifted slightly, as if to make room for your presence, though he rarely looked directly at you. His fingers drummed idly against the stone steps, his usual energy subdued. “You know,” he began, his tone trying to mask the genuine tone with sarcasm, “I was just out here contemplating how utterly fascinating it is that despite all my chaotic brilliance, I’m still just a pawn in someone’s game. How’s that for a new low?”

“Sounds like you’re having one of those nights,” you replied, nudging him gently. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be ‘brilliant’ all the time.”

He chuckled, though it was strained. “Yeah, well, if you knew the kind of mess I am without the noise, you’d run screaming. Not that you haven’t seen me at my worst before.” He flashed a quick, half-hearted grin.