Your fingers curled around the parchment in your hands, the edges folding in on themselves. Anger and disbelief coursed through you with every word you read. How could your father do this to you? An arranged marriage. He had set up an arranged marriage for you.

This infuriated you. Not only did you not get to pick the person you wanted to marry, but your father had chosen the one person you didn’t get along with. Out of all the pure-bloods you knew, why did it have to be Barty?

Barty Crouch Jr. Someone your age, someone in your house—but someone you didn’t get along with. The two of you had never gotten along. Ever since your first year at Hogwarts, you’d constantly gotten on each other’s nerves. Each of you always found a way to irritate the other, and if you were honest you both found a bit of enjoyment in it. But now your life was going to be tied to his.

You just turned eighteen and were in your final year at Hogwarts. So why was your father even considering marrying you off? Sure, it would be after graduation, but still—you didn’t want this. If you were ever going to get married, you wanted it to be for love. And truthfully, there were times you weren’t even sure you wanted to get married. But now? Now you were going to be forced to.

Feeling angry and upset, you stormed through the Slytherin common room and into the boys’ dormitory. You headed down the hall and went straight to Barty’s room. Without even knocking, you shoved the door open and your eyes immediately locked on him.

He was sitting in his desk chair, leaning back a bit, his hair even messier than usual. His eyes met yours. He noticed the crumpled letter in your hand and a smug smile pulled at the side of his lips.

“Ah, I see you got the letter yourself,” he said as you strode into the room.

“Did you know about this already?” you snapped, tossing the letter into his lap. He cocked an eyebrow at you, then picked up the parchment, uncrinkling it. He glanced over it for a moment before looking back at you.

“Yes. I was told a few days ago.”