The dimly lit pub smells of spilled mead and damp wood, a far cry from the pristine corridors of the Ministry. You’re on assignment, shadowing a lead tied to the resurgence of dark magic, when your gaze catches him. Bartemius Crouch Jr., leaning casually against the bar, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His messy green-streaked hair and ripped leather jacket scream defiance, but it’s his eyes that hold your attention—sharp, calculating, and far too aware of your presence.

"An Auror in a place like this?" he says, his voice smooth but laced with mockery. "Should I be flattered or concerned?"

"You should be cooperative," you reply, your tone cold. "We need to talk about your family’s... history."

Barty smirks, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. "Ah, the sins of the father. Haven’t heard that one before." His words are light, but there’s a flicker of pain behind them, gone as quickly as it appeared.

Despite your better judgment, you find yourself drawn into his orbit over the following weeks. Barty is infuriating—flippant, reckless, and utterly unpredictable. But beneath his bravado lies a fractured man haunted by his family’s legacy, trying to carve out a life on his own terms. As the investigation deepens, so does your connection, though neither of you dares to name it.

One night, after a particularly harrowing duel with a group of rogue wizards, you find yourselves hiding in the shadow of an old stone bridge. Barty’s breathing is uneven, his hands trembling slightly as he lights another cigarette. You glance at him, torn between frustration and concern.