made my eyes burn
Barty was close to strangling Regulus Black.
Ever since Evan got that stupid haircut and stupid earring, which accentuated his stupidly perfect jaw and stupidly nice eyes and somehow his stupidly strong arms (stupid, right?), Regulus Black had made it his life’s mission to set Evan up with everybody imaginable. At first, Barty thought it was to piss him off, so that Evan would win the bet. But then Barty remembered that Regulus didn’t give a rat’s ass about Barty’s bet, or at least he said, leaving Barty dumbstruck at Regulus’s motives. Perhaps he was deflecting his crush on Potter.
Either way, it was becoming a serious pain in the arse.
Because, seriously, Barty was getting tired of watching people practically throw themselves at Evan. Not only because of their bet, though Barty hated to lose, but because, was it that big a deal? Call him an attention whore, but Barty wasn’t sure what the big fuss was about. Were people just realizing Evan Rosier was hot? Barty had accepted it a long time ago. Evan was hot in the most obvious sense of the word. A strong jawline that envied that of the old statues his father insisted on having in the Crouch household. Striking brown eyes and pouty lips that 99.9% of the time were teased up into an infuriating smirk. At least when he was around Barty. Sure, the hair looked…fine, but Barty thought Evan’s hair had looked fine before too. Although, Barty had to admit, that the blonde brought of the gold flecks in his ey–
Whatever. That was besides the point. Fine, Barty could admit he got why people were freaking out. The haircut had given Evan confidence, and he wore his school trousers and perpetually loose tie with an air of security he didn’t have before. The earring didn’t help. The earring and the smirk and the tie and Evan looked like the kind of bad boy all the Hogwarts girls went crazy for. And then he had to go and be sweet and intelligent too. Barty was fucked. Because of the bet, of course.
Sitting down at dinner the day after Evan’s little ‘transformation’, as Barty liked to call it, Regulus came over to the table dragging a petite, pretty Ravenclaw behind him. Bella, Barty thought her name was.
Evan was engrossed in his green beans. He did this often, spacing out as if trying to solve some complex Arithmancy problem. He probably was. Or working out some spell in that infuriating brilliant brain of his.
“Evan,” Regulus commanded, and Evan glanced up, brown eyes darting between Regulus and the girl (Bella?), who was looking nervously at him.
“What is it, Reg?’ Evan asked boredly, and Bella squirmed. Barty knew how she felt. Evan had this way of going through conversations as if they never stimulated him properly. It was as if he was in a perpetual state of boredom, with very few people matching his level of wit. Barty reveled in the fact that he was one of those people. He knew he challenged Evan, at least conversationally, and it stoked his ego immensely to know that he was interesting enough for the enigma that was Evan Rosier.
“Evan, this is Bella. She was asking about you in Potions and I told her I’d give her an introduction.” At this, the girl flushed. Regulus wasn’t one for subtlety.
Evan lifted his head, properly looking at Bella for the first time. Barty watched as his eyes searched her face, looking for something indescribable. She was more than just pretty, Barty realized. She had long dark hair and striking blue eyes, as if winter personified. Just Evan’s type, or so Barty assumed. She seemed intelligent too. She had a challenge in her eyes, as if daring Evan to say the wrong thing. Barty’s eyes darted between them, intrigued.
“I’m Evan. Rosier.” Evan smiled at her, a little uncertain still.
To Barty’s surprise, she rolled her eyes. “We’ve met, Evan. Lupin’s study group, fourth year?”
Evan’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh shit, Isabella. Didn’t your hair used to be blonde?”
Bella flushed, clearly pleased to be recognized. “Like you, Rosier, I dyed it. This is my real color. My roommates are obsessed with dyeing hair.”
“They should meet Pandora, she’s the same way,” Evan replied, leaning forward.
“Is that who did your hair?” Bella asked, taking a seat next to Regulus.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Barty mumbled under his breath. He wasn’t sure what it was about Bella, but she was pissing him off. Maybe it was the way she talked, or her confidence, just walking up to Evan (well, with Regulus, but that's besides the point). Who was she to think that Evan would just want her?
Although… it seemed like he did, to Barty’s chagrin. Could Evan not see right through her act? Barty wasn’t sure what the act was quite yet, but still. Why was Evan not bored yet?
It was for the bet, probably. There’s no way Evan was into this girl.
Bella turned to Barty, eyes fixing on him.
“Did you say something?” she asked. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Honestly, sometimes Barty felt like being an arrogant arsehole just for the sake of it. Especially when people pissed him off.
Barty smirked. “Don’t act like you haven’t heard of me. The name’s Barty.”
“Why are you talking like you’re in a muggle cowboy movie?” Regulus wondered aloud.
“You’re right, Crouch. I have heard of you. I just wanted to test that famous arrogance of yours.”
Evan let out a chuckle at that. Traitor. It wasn't even that funny.
“Good on you, Bella,” Evan remarked, “someone ought to put Barty in his place every now and then. I’m afraid he’s become immune to my attempts.”
He was siding with her? Sure, Barty was annoying, but this girl was self-righteous and much too confident, trying to turn his Evan against him. Like his Evan as in his friend Evan. And why the hell was Evan agreeing with her? Evan loved when Barty made dumb jokes. He’d hold back a laugh, but Barty could always tell he was amused by the crinkle of his eyes.
“Glad to be of service, Rosier.” She pronounced his last name perfectly, with the stupid little French accent and everything. God, what a phony.
Barty’s biggest issue in life (besides his obvious tendency for dramatics…) was his inability to pronounce Evan’s last name correctly. He said it the obnoxiously British way, pronouncing all the consonants he shouldn’t. Not like when Evan said it, rolling off his tongue like milk chocolate. Barty loved it when Evan spoke French. It made him sound even more tortured and intelligent, like one of those poets he was always reading.
But Miss Perfect Ravenclaw could pronounce Rosier just like Evan, with no ‘r’ at the end and that perfect curl to the word.
Even Evan looked impressed.
“Parles-tu français?” Evan asked.
“Oui, ma mère est de Nice.”
“Ma famille est marseillaise.” Regulus put in.
“Why am I not shocked you speak French, Black?” Bella asked.
“I could say the same for you.”
Bella looked at him suddenly, a little too critically, in Barty’s opinion.
“Crouch? Are you hiding a secret French accent too?”
Evan snorted at this, making Barty unreasonably angry.
“What’s so funny, Ev?”
“Barty can’t say my last name properly,” Evan said, turning toward Bella. Look at me, Barty willed. Not her. He hated when Evan did this, directing comments about him to other people.
“It’s okay, Barty. I’m sure your Spanish comes in handy all the time in Britain,” Dorcas said, startling Barty with how long she’d been silent. She fixed him with a fake-pitying smile.
“No es que tu español sea útil también. Estamos en el mismo bote, Meadowes.”
“Al menos me veo bien mientras lo hablo,” she shot back.
“You wish,” Barty scoffed. “You look the same speaking Spanish as you do English, Let me tell you, babe, neither one is panty-dropping.”
“McKinnon doesn’t think so,” Dorcas replied.
“Well, then, your girlfriend must be crazy too.”
“Yeah, she is,” Dorcas said, glancing across the Great Hall.
“Keep it in your pants, Dorcas,” Regulus said, pretending to gag.
“Regulus Black, I swear I wil–”
“Anyways,” Bella started. Barty had forgotten she was there. Irritation shot through him. Didn’t she have friends she could bother?
“I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade on Saturday. With me, I mean.”
“Sure,” Evan replied quickly. A little too quickly. He caught Barty’s eye, a challenge in it. Oh, so this was about the bet, then. Barty should’ve been worried, but instead, he felt relief, for some odd reason.
Bella relaxed, looking relieved. “Cool! I’ll meet you outside the doors?”
“Sure, sounds good.”
And with that, Bella turned around and walked away.
“Bloody nightmare, huh?” Barty joked. “Quite a sacrifice you’re making for that bet.”
“She seemed perfectly lovely to me,” Dorcas drawled, shooting a meaningful look that Barty didn’t understand at Regulus.
“I agree,” Regulus said. “Very pretty, too.”
“Are you not gay?” Barty asked impatiently. Did his friends really not see it?
“I think she’s lovely, too,” Pandora said, appearing behind Evan. “I was eavesdropping from where I was sitting with Xeno.”
Evan stared hard at Barty. Barty felt like squirming under his gaze. It was too intense, too piercing. He felt like Evan was finding things out about him he didn’t even know about himself.
“What’s so wrong with her, Barty?” he asked.
Barty shifted, his eyes glancing towards his other three friends. They were watching him amusedly.
“Er, nothing, I suppose. I was just being dramatic, haha.”
Evan stared at him in shock. “Did you just admit to being dramatic? And said you were wrong?”
“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.”
“Yes,” Evan replied, leaning back and folding his arms. He was looking at Barty oddly, as if seeing him for the first time. “Yes, I guess there is.”