(NSFW) Barty Crouch Jr. x Hermione
In Hogwarts's dimly lit, dungeon-like classroom, tension hung like a heavy, foreboding mist. Professor Moody, or Barty Crouch Jr., was clearly seething beneath his grizzled exterior. Hermione Granger, the young witch with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, had managed to irritate him again. It was no secret that Barty disdained being corrected by his students, especially those he regarded as "Mudbloods."
As the echo of his sinister lesson on the Three Unforgivable Curses reverberated through the room, Hermione couldn't remain silent. Her voice, though trembling with anxiety, held a fierce determination. "Professor Moody, I don't think it is right to teach these curses," she asserted, her gaze firmly locked on the grim, battered face of Neville Longbottom. The poor boy appeared as if he'd seen a ghost, visibly shaken by the horrors he'd just learned about. The Cruciatius Curse, in particular, had struck terror into Neville's heart, his mind grappling with the horrifying notion that his parents had endured such unimaginable torment.
Barty Crouch Jr., his lips dry and cracked, struggled to contain his rage. The urge to unleash the Cruciatus Curse on Hermione was a consuming temptation that gnawed at his very soul. The darkness within him longed to see her writhe in pain, hear her screams, and witness her surrender to the unrelenting torment. But he knew he couldn't act on these impulses, at least not in this disguise. Maintaining the façade of the grizzled Auror, Mad-Eye Moody, was essential to their sinister plot.
A crooked smile twisted across Barty's face as he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with a venomous sweetness. "Ah, Miss Granger, always so eager to speak your mind, aren't you? These curses are part of our world, whether you like it or not. You'll find that knowing your enemy's weapons is sometimes the best defense. Perhaps you'll appreciate that the next time you're faced with a Death Eater."
Hunched in his chair, Neville flinched at the mention of Death Eaters. His grip on the desk tightened, and a solitary tear traced a path down his dirt-stained cheek. Hermione's brow furrowed, her concern for her friend overwhelming her fear of Professor Moody. "But, Professor, isn't it our duty to ensure we use our magic for good and not harm others? How can we protect ourselves if we resort to such evil?"
Barty's facade faltered briefly, revealing a glint of exasperation. Yet, he quickly regained his composure, his magical eye twitching unnervingly. "Miss Granger, there's a fine line between good and evil in this world, often blurred by our choices. Understanding the darkness that exists is vital to preserving the light. Knowledge is power, and it's your responsibility as a witch to wield it wisely."
As Hermione continued to argue her point, Barty Crouch Jr. seethed beneath the surface, his desire for vengeance simmering like a cauldron of boiling potion. In the shadows of the classroom, the line between teacher and predator grew ever thinner, and the fate of these young students hung in the balance.
The tension in the classroom was palpable, the air thick with animosity. Barty Crouch Jr., hidden behind the persona of Professor Moody, had reached his breaking point with Hermione Granger's relentless pursuit of knowledge. He had warned her, and now it was time to take action.
"One more time, you spoke out of turn, Ms. Granger, and I may have to send you to detention," Barty's voice was cold and unyielding, his patience worn thin. The room fell into a heavy silence as the other students watched nervously, their curiosity piqued by the impending confrontation.
But Hermione, undeterred and fiercely resolute, refused to back down. Her voice, determination, and concern for her classmates cut through the tension. "Professor Moody, these curses are dark and dangerous. We need to learn why they're forbidden and the consequences they bring. We need context and ethics, not just the incantations."
Barty's magical fake eye whirred lightly, casting eerie shadows on his face. He had anticipated her defiance and was ready to end it. "Snape's words are really true. You're an insufferable know-it-all," he hissed through clenched teeth, his thinly veiled anger escaping as venomous words. "See you in detention."
The room seemed to hold its breath as Barty's decision hung in the air. Hermione's jaw tightened, her frustration evident in her clenched fists. She had pushed too far, and now she was facing the consequences. Slowly, she nodded, her eyes burning with unspoken determination and a touch of defiance.
—--------
Detention with Professor Moody was an intimidating prospect. The stories of his grueling, unorthodox methods had circulated throughout the school, and it was an experience students dreaded. Yet, Hermione remained undeterred. She was driven by a sense of justice and determination to ensure her fellow students received a complete education encompassing magic's light and dark aspects.
The dimly lit dungeons of Hogwarts seemed to breathe with a life of their own, a quiet malevolence that lingered in the air. Hermione Granger had been given detention with Professor Moody, though she had no idea that the man before her was not the real Mad-Eye Moody. This was Barty Crouch Jr., a Death Eater masquerading as an Auror, a wolf among sheep.
The flickering torches cast eerie, elongated shadows that danced upon the cold stone walls, creating a haunting backdrop for the clandestine meeting. Hermione's footsteps echoed as she followed the imposter deeper into the labyrinthine passages, each step sending shivers down her spine. It was a chilling reminder of the darkness within the castle's walls.
The fake Moody led Hermione to a small, underground chamber, its stone walls lined with bookshelves containing ancient and forbidden tomes. A cold, iron chair stood ominously in the center of the room, the kind of chair designed for discomfort, a stark contrast to the usually cozy common room chairs she was accustomed to.
With a voice that was far more sinister than Professor Moody's, Barty sneered, "Take a seat, Miss Granger." His magical eye whirred as he watched her every movement, its piercing gaze seemingly dissecting her soul.
Hermione sat down, her heart pounding in her chest. The situation was perilous, and she couldn't afford to show weakness. She had been to detention before, but this was different. She was alone with a man she knew to be a Death Eater, and her survival depended on her wits and knowledge.
The imposter Moody paced in front of her, his voice laced with sadistic amusement. "You're clever, Hermione Granger, and you're right to question how I teach. But there's more to learn than what's in books." He stopped abruptly, his magical eye-locking onto her like a vulture eyeing its prey. "Knowledge can be a weapon, but so can silence."
Hermione's brow furrowed, her mind racing to decipher his cryptic message. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice steady but tinged with anxiety.
Barty's lips curled into a wicked smile as he leaned in closer. His breath was stale and carried a sinister edge. "I can offer you something that books cannot, Miss Granger. A deeper understanding of the dark arts. A way to protect yourself and your friends, a path to survival in a world where darkness looms."
Hermione's eyes widened with a mixture of fear and intrigue. She was tempted, despite herself. The allure of knowledge, even forbidden knowledge, tugged at her like a forbidden fruit. But she knew the cost of dealing with the devil. "I won't become a part of your twisted world," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I'll stick to my principles, no matter what."
Barty Crouch Jr. had bided his time, using the guise of Professor Moody to unnerve Hermione. But now, with a sinister grin, he lunged forward and snatched her wand from her hand, his movements fluid and precise. "My dear, you are a thorn in my side," he purred, his voice dripping with deceit as he twirled her wand between his fingers.
Hermione's eyes narrowed anger and fear battling for dominance within her. "Give that back," she demanded, trembling only slightly.
Barty's laughter was cold, like the clammy grip of a Dementor. "Or what, Hermione? Will you cry for help like your friends could save you from me?"
He disarmed her swiftly with a flick of his wrist, leaving her stunned. Panic coursed through her, but she refused to show it. Instead, she held her chin high, meeting Barty's gaze with a defiant fire in her eyes. The effect of the polyjuice potion slowly melting.
The sinister wizard took a step closer, invading her personal space. He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to her ear. "I must admit, Hermione, I've always admired your intellect and determination," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down her spine. "You're a brilliant witch, but you've chosen the wrong side."
Hermione's heart raced as Barty's proximity and menacing words played havoc with her emotions. She fought the rising panic that threatened to consume her, and she couldn't help but be aware of the allure of power that radiated from him, making it hard to resist.
Barty's fingers grazed her cheek, a touch so tender that it sent a chill down her spine. "I can offer you knowledge beyond your wildest dreams," he murmured, his gaze locking onto hers with an almost hypnotic intensity. "Imagine the power, the magic you could wield, Hermione, as my apprentice. Or maybe not just in magic? Maybe something as simple as being in my bed." He said in a husky tone.
"I'll never join your kind, never be a part of your darkness," she spat, her voice filled with anger and defiance.
"Unfortunately, My Dear, I don't accept 'No' as an answer," Barty sneered, his voice dripping with malicious intent. His magical eye glinted with a dark gleam as he cast the Incarcerous spell with a flick of his wand. Thick, rough ropes erupted from thin air, ruthlessly binding Hermione to the iron chair.
Her heart raced as she struggled against her restraints, the realization that her dire situation had just taken a horrifying turn settling in. "You can't do this," she gasped, her voice laced with desperation.
Barty's sinister grin widened as he loomed over her, his power and madness palpable. "Oh, but I can, Hermione. And I will." With a cruel flourish of his wand, he summoned the memory of pain and despair that accompanied the Crucio curse. The room seemed to darken as he unleashed the vile magic, and Hermione's scream of agony cut through the heavy air.
The room's shadows danced wildly as Hermione writhed in her restraints, her body contorting in pain as the curse tortured her very being. Her thoughts became a chaotic jumble of terror, desperation, and unimaginable suffering.
Barty's laughter, cold and mirthless, mingled with Hermione's cries. "How about we try 2 out of 3 Unforgivable curses?" he taunted, his sadistic glee intensifying. He released the Crucio curse without a pause and menacingly whispered the incantation for the Imperius Curse.
Hermione's body, still aching from the previous torment, now moved at his command. Her limbs, no longer under her control, rose and fell at Barty's behest. She was nothing more than a puppet in his hands, forced to dance to the tune of her tormentor.
Tears blurred Hermione's vision as she fought to maintain some semblance of her will and sanity. She knew that the third Unforgivable Curse, the Avada Kedavra, could be her death sentence, and she needed to find a way to escape this nightmarish ordeal.
"I want you to beg. Go on, beg," Barty whispered in her ear, his voice a sinister caress. His breath was cold and carried the stench of malevolence as he revealed his power over her. His magical eye bore into her with a sadistic intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks, a testament to her unbearable torment. Her strong spirit had always been her shield, but now, under the Imperius Curse's cruel influence, she was left defenseless. She tried to fight the words forming in her throat, the ones Barty wanted to hear, but her willpower had been utterly overpowered.
"Please, stop," she begged, her voice quivering with pain, fear, and desperation. Her words were not her own but a heart-wrenching plea extracted from her by her malevolent captor.
Barty's sadistic grin widened, a macabre satisfaction washing over him as he watched her anguish. The power he wielded as a wizard and predator intoxicated him. Bony and cold fingers brushed away the tears that stained her face, his touch sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.
"Good girl," he purred, his voice a cruel mockery of kindness. The relief was like a double-edged sword, for while the pain ceased, the realization of her utter powerlessness in the face of such darkness remained. She felt violated and humiliated, her spirit bruised but far from broken.
Hermione, manipulated like a marionette, sank to her knees with a grace that belied the turmoil within her. The Death Eater, an embodiment of darkness and malice, seized a handful of her lustrous dark brown hair, yanking her head towards him. Their eyes locked in a twisted dance of power and despair, Hermione's once-bright gaze meeting his ominous one.
"Beautiful," Barty Crouch Jr. purred, his voice oozing menace as it reverberated in the gloom of the dimly lit chamber. His fingers tightened around Hermione's hair, causing her scalp to smolder with a searing pain. His words dripped with contempt, emphasizing his belief in the superiority of purebloods. "Right where you belong," he continued, his lips curling into a sinister smile, "at the feet of your pureblood lord."
Hermione's body trembled as she struggled to maintain her composure, her heart pounding. She was trapped, caught in a web of darkness, and her impending fate pressed down upon her like a heavy shroud. Barty's menacing presence was overwhelming, and she had to find a way to escape this grim puppetry, to break free from his cruel grasp and defy the darkness that threatened to consume her. She almost collapsed as Barty released the Imperius' hold on her. His eyes gleamed with dangerous edge as Hermione slightly drooled from confusion and pain.
"I prefer seeing you struggle and beg me to stop then being compliant," Barty whispered before licking her cheeks and jawline.
Hermione's body trembled as she fought to regain control over her own will, her heart a thunderous drumbeat within her chest. The darkness seemed to tighten its grip around her, an oppressive shroud threatening to smother her hope and resilience. She could still feel the lingering echoes of Barty's presence, a looming malevolence that had woven its way into her very being.
With a shuddering breath, Hermione's mind began to clear as the hold of the Imperius Curse loosened its vise-like grip. She blinked through the haze of confusion, focusing on the menacing figure before her. The pain still radiated through her body, but she was no longer a puppet in his cruel play.
Barty leaned in close, his eyes gleaming with a sinister edge that sent a fresh wave of fear through her veins. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, a twisted intimacy that made her stomach churn. A droplet of cold sweat trickled down her temple, a testament to the horror of her ordeal.
"I prefer seeing you struggle and beg me to stop then being compliant," he whispered, his voice a chilling caress against her ear. Hermione could taste the moment's bitterness, her indignation burning like a beacon of defiance even as she felt violated by his actions. His moist tongue grazed her cheeks and jawline, sending an icy shiver down her spine.
“Go on, lassie, serve your master.” Barty Jr. said as he dragged her back to her knees, her hands fumbling as she slowly removed his belt. His trousers fell to his knees; Hermione’s heart pounded fast as Barty didn’t hesitate to pull his boxers down. His half-hard cock almost slapping Hermione’s cheeks.
Hermione fervently shook her head, no, but Barty tightly held her cheeks. “Open your mouth fucking Mudblood, don’t you dare bite.” Barty Jr. said as he forcefully inserted his flaccid cock into her mouth. Her saliva dripped down her chin; Hermione closed her eyes as she tried to disassociate, but Barty Jr. slapped her cheek hard. “Open your eyes and look at my eyes.” He glared and made Hermione slowly open her teary eyes as she moved her head through his length.
He smelled fetid; the scent of his leather jacket and jeans clung to his skin. Hermione gagged and forced her head away, but Barty Jr. held her head as his cock expanded and hardened in her mouth. Just seeing her teary-eyed and suffering is enough to turn him on. “This is your first time?” He smirked as he held Hermione in place while slowly moving his hips. Hermione looked up through her teary eyes; she slowly nodded, almost gagging as Barty’s cock hit the back of her throat; his moan and grunt sent shivers down Hermione’s spine.
“Fucking hell bitch, if this is your first time, I wonder how great you’ll be once I trained you.” He said in between groans that made Hermione weak.
Train her?
“Swirl your dam tongue.” He ordered. Hermione tried to swirl her tongue at his cock’s head while he bucked his hips deeper down her throat. “That’s it, you little slut.” He whispered.
Barty’s movements slowly became erratic; Hermione’s scalp stung harder as he used it to control her head like she was nothing but his living fleshlight. His untamed pubic hair covered her nose as he kept moving her head; her saliva coated her chin and the floor beneath them. His salty and bitter pre cum made her gag on top of his relentless assault on her mouth. Hermione’s small jaw started to hurt whenever Barty slapped her.
“Look at that face; I wonder what Potter and Weasley will think of their friend if they see how much of a fucking slut you are.” Barty Jr. said before spitting on her face.
Barty felt his cock twitch as he continually assaulted her mouth. His blue eyes watched Hermione’s despair; each tear brought him closer to euphoria. His mouth threw a slew of curses and lewd insults. His tongue licked his lips like he always did whenever he was nervous or happy, and he’s definitely the latter now. “F-uck. Fuck. Your mouth is heavenly, you fucking mudblood bitch.” He roared as he held her head tightly in place; his cock tightened and twitched as it spewed his cum into Hermione’s throat; some of his spunk shot out her nose, making Barty insanely grin. He held her aching scalp in place, his impaled cock on her throat suffocating her. Her once pink lips slowly turned blue.
Barty Finally let her go; Hermione collapsed into a ball as she gasped for breath. Barty leaned down to her. “See you later, you filthy bitch.” He said before licking her lips.”Obliviate.”