Secrets can only stay buried for so long, and the Crouch family have a plethora of them.
[ps-dh]
fem!oc x george weasley
cover made by familyjulez.
H...
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BARTEMIUS CROUCH HAD once been a proud man. His youth was spent buried within the wondrous walls of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, flaunting without care the inheritance he'd been granted as the only son. He did not mind the green-eyed glares of those around him, coveting what he'd been so thoughtlessly given. What mattered to him was not what he had in that moment, but what he could acquire.
The beginning of his great undoing was in the form of a young girl on vacation, who wore baby blue bows in her hair and sang songs sung by muggle artists that his parents forbade him from listening to. Diana Bruce had enthralled him in a way no woman had before, and before he knew it, their torrid summer affair resulted in a year of longing letters and promises to reunite after their schooling finished.
Staying true to his promise would result in the knife his parents held against his throat slicing into his jugular and ripping out the promised Crouch inheritance from his breath. Bartemius, the eldest child, the only son, had tarnished centuries of a pureblood legacy, all for a muggleborn.
Bartemius Crouch had once been a proud man. But he was barely treading water in a new country, with new responsibilities, such as the long nights at his work that never quite seemed to pay off the endless strain of bills, and his wife's swollen belly.
The son — given the same name as his own, was a maddening boy who seemed to make it his life's goal to torment Bartemius. The further he rose in the ranks of the Ministry, and the further his job strayed him from his family, the worse it got.
His only child would be joined nineteen years later, a faulty contraceptive potion resulting in a daughter. A daughter, who even in the facade of youth, resembled him in too many ways. A mirror not just of the body, but of the festering bits of their mirrored souls.
