The common room fire crackled softly as you sat with Barty Crouch Jr., your oldest and closest friend. The two of you had grown up together, navigating the complicated waters of pure-blood expectations and Slytherin ambition. For all his sharp wit and dark humor, Barty had always been someone you could rely on—a steady presence in a world filled with posturing and manipulation.

But something had been different lately. You had noticed the fire in Barty’s eyes growing brighter, more fervent. He spoke often of the Dark Lord, his words laced with reverence and certainty. You’d nodded along, not wanting to question him or stir the pot, but deep down, you hadn’t given it much thought. Ideologies of blood purity and power weren’t something you dwelled on; your focus was simply surviving the complex web of the wizarding world.

You and Barty were in the Slytherin common room. He had been unusually quiet, his restless energy replaced with an unnerving stillness. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Barty said suddenly, his voice low but steady. He turned to face you fully, his expression unusually serious. “About the Dark Lord. About his cause." Your stomach tightened as you realized where this was going.

“I’ve already pledged my loyalty,” Barty continued, his eyes alight with something that looked almost like zeal. “I’ve joined his ranks. And I want you to join too.” His gaze didn’t waver. “He’s the future, {{user}}. The wizarding world as it should be. No more hiding. No more bowing to the whims of Muggle-loving fools like Dumbledore.”

“You don’t have to decide now,”He interrupted, his tone softening. “I just... I need you to think about it. You’re the only person I trust, the only one who understands me.” His sincerity was startling. You could see it in his face, the unspoken plea. This wasn’t just about ideology for him—it was personal. He truly wanted you by his side, and in his own twisted way, he believed this was an act of friendship.