Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet
Title: Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet
Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr./Bellatrix Lestrange
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Barty's thoughts while out with Bellatrix.
Author's Note: Written for the Clue(do) Summer Ficathion at rarepair_shorts using the prompt Barty/Bella in Borgin and Burke's with the cauldron.
Smack.Bellatrix slapped Barty's hand sharply, knocking it away from the ornate silver cauldron he'd been reaching toward. "Don't. Touch," she hissed sternly.
Barty scowled as he immediately withdrew his hand, clutching it to his chest momentarily before allowing it to fall limp at his side. That particular phrase was one with which he was becoming too familiar from her and he didn't particularly care for it at all. At first perhaps it had been somewhat thrilling letting her control everything. But Barty did not like to think of himself as a very patient man. He'd about had it with all of this. He was going to have to say something to her about it or better yet just do something about it. That something may or may not have involved pinning her to a wall as soon as they were out of the shop and having his way with her.
"We wouldn't want you getting hurt after all, now would we?" she cooed in that singsong tone which sent shivers down his spine. Bellatrix reached under his hood and traced her hand along his cheek and down across his jaw before tapping a small sign on the table that said the same thing. Barty couldn't help but lean into the older woman's touch. He was grateful for the shadows cast over his features by the hood of his cloak as he was still working on learning to suppress all signs of emotions. Emotions were weak after all. They got you into trouble. He was above all else, supposed to be an academic, cold and cunning. He was useful in battle, loved inflicting pain, but his greatest talents were in his deceits, his wealth of knowledge, his precision, and the public facade that allowed him to gain information. Bellatrix flashed a positively wicked grin at him before brushing past him and up to the counter. Barty wets his lips as he watches the way her hips swayed when she moved. He'd caught a glimpse earlier of the tight red dress she was wearing underneath her robes and really wished it wasn't hidden beneath the lush velvet, which left far too much to the imagination for his liking.
He moved farther into the Borgin and Burke's with his hood still up, which of late was far more common than to flaunt one's identity like Bella currently was. He sometimes wished for that freedom but knew that he had to keep all of his involvement in such illicit affairs quite secret. He was an up and coming clerk for the International Magical Office of Law within the Department of International Magical Cooperation after all. He had a reputation to maintain if he was going to remain valuable to the Dark Lord and by extension to the beautiful woman who was in the process of purchasing a very ominous looking silver knife.
"And that silver cauldron, as a gift for my dear friend," Bella told the man behind the counter before grinning lasciviously at Barty once more. "He's very... talented," Bella explained unnecessarily,"with potions, that is." The shopkeeper merely grunted in response, though neither Bellatrix nor Barty was paying him any mind as he went about packaging her order. Bella leaned back against the counter, drumming her blood red nails against the glass surface. There was a predatory look in her eyes as she watched Barty continue to observe the shop's other goods. He wasn't paying any mind to the large assortment of dark artifacts as his thoughts were already consumed by what would happen once they left the shop.
Rodolphus was away on a mission that had kept him out of the picture for nearly a week now. As much as Barty respected the older man and sought his approval, he found himself wholly unable to resist Mrs. Lestrange and really, who could blame him? He had been training himself his whole life to never show emotions, which could get him into trouble. When that trouble was Bellatrix Lestrange though, well, he wasn't so sure trouble was a bad thing.
Pairing: Barty Crouch Jr./Bellatrix Lestrange
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Barty's thoughts while out with Bellatrix.
Author's Note: Written for the Clue(do) Summer Ficathion at rarepair_shorts using the prompt Barty/Bella in Borgin and Burke's with the cauldron.
Smack.Bellatrix slapped Barty's hand sharply, knocking it away from the ornate silver cauldron he'd been reaching toward. "Don't. Touch," she hissed sternly.
Barty scowled as he immediately withdrew his hand, clutching it to his chest momentarily before allowing it to fall limp at his side. That particular phrase was one with which he was becoming too familiar from her and he didn't particularly care for it at all. At first perhaps it had been somewhat thrilling letting her control everything. But Barty did not like to think of himself as a very patient man. He'd about had it with all of this. He was going to have to say something to her about it or better yet just do something about it. That something may or may not have involved pinning her to a wall as soon as they were out of the shop and having his way with her.
"We wouldn't want you getting hurt after all, now would we?" she cooed in that singsong tone which sent shivers down his spine. Bellatrix reached under his hood and traced her hand along his cheek and down across his jaw before tapping a small sign on the table that said the same thing. Barty couldn't help but lean into the older woman's touch. He was grateful for the shadows cast over his features by the hood of his cloak as he was still working on learning to suppress all signs of emotions. Emotions were weak after all. They got you into trouble. He was above all else, supposed to be an academic, cold and cunning. He was useful in battle, loved inflicting pain, but his greatest talents were in his deceits, his wealth of knowledge, his precision, and the public facade that allowed him to gain information. Bellatrix flashed a positively wicked grin at him before brushing past him and up to the counter. Barty wets his lips as he watches the way her hips swayed when she moved. He'd caught a glimpse earlier of the tight red dress she was wearing underneath her robes and really wished it wasn't hidden beneath the lush velvet, which left far too much to the imagination for his liking.
He moved farther into the Borgin and Burke's with his hood still up, which of late was far more common than to flaunt one's identity like Bella currently was. He sometimes wished for that freedom but knew that he had to keep all of his involvement in such illicit affairs quite secret. He was an up and coming clerk for the International Magical Office of Law within the Department of International Magical Cooperation after all. He had a reputation to maintain if he was going to remain valuable to the Dark Lord and by extension to the beautiful woman who was in the process of purchasing a very ominous looking silver knife.
"And that silver cauldron, as a gift for my dear friend," Bella told the man behind the counter before grinning lasciviously at Barty once more. "He's very... talented," Bella explained unnecessarily,"with potions, that is." The shopkeeper merely grunted in response, though neither Bellatrix nor Barty was paying him any mind as he went about packaging her order. Bella leaned back against the counter, drumming her blood red nails against the glass surface. There was a predatory look in her eyes as she watched Barty continue to observe the shop's other goods. He wasn't paying any mind to the large assortment of dark artifacts as his thoughts were already consumed by what would happen once they left the shop.
Rodolphus was away on a mission that had kept him out of the picture for nearly a week now. As much as Barty respected the older man and sought his approval, he found himself wholly unable to resist Mrs. Lestrange and really, who could blame him? He had been training himself his whole life to never show emotions, which could get him into trouble. When that trouble was Bellatrix Lestrange though, well, he wasn't so sure trouble was a bad thing.