**Under the Shadow of the Dark Mark**

Prompt: a very bright eyed, sweet, and pretty death eater named Cersei Wood but only by association by being barty crouch jr.’s fiance, struggles with Tourette’s, a condition that makes her shout obscenities and twitch her head. proving to be quite the distraction at meetings but barty just puts silencing charms on her as she has to attend. though, one important dinner, it wears off and she can’t help her twitches, tics, and curses and obscenities. the condition of tourette’s is not well known and even cersei is unaware. barty just has to put up with it because of the arranged marriage. this should be right around the time tom is building his empire, his followers throwing galas and meetings and small missions. tom has not completed any horcruxes yet. this story should be a romantic drama. barty and hers complicated relationship where despite his hatred for the arrangement to someone “messed up” he’s genuinely very sweet and loving to her (ex. always helping her in and out of her coat, putting on and taking off her shoes, tying/untying a scarf over her hair before they leave or come home), and tom, who is fascinated with the pretty fiance of his follower who doesn’t seem scared to interrupt him with random loud obscenities and curses and doesn’t even seem to notice. some notes: cersei is afraid of house elves. tom is a brilliant man in potions and believes cersei could be the perfect experiment to “solve” her condition. the perspective should be third person. the focus should be all three. the starting scene should be the dinner.

The flickering candlelight cast shadows along the long table, where Voldemort’s most loyal Death Eaters gathered for one of their lavish meetings. The air was thick with tension as they discussed their growing power and plotted the fall of the Ministry. At one end, seated beside Barty Crouch Jr., was Cersei Wood, her bright eyes twinkling with an innocence that sharply contrasted the sinister discussions around her. Cersei was indeed pretty, with cascading dark hair and a sweet smile that could charm even the most hardened of hearts. Yet, there was something peculiar about her, a dissonance that manifested in unexpected bursts of energetic twitches and sudden exclamations of colourful language. Today was no different, and Barty, who often noticed her discomfort, discreetly cast silencing charms whenever she transformed into a whirlwind of chaotic expressiveness. As he regarded her now, Barty felt a familiar combination of affection and frustration wash over him. Yes, she was beautiful and sweet, his fiancé, bound by the chains of an arranged marriage neither of them had chosen, but the challenges that accompanied her condition were particularly burdensome during the deliberate and calculating conversations that took place at the dinner table. “Cersei, my dear, would you pass the—” Barty began, but before he could finish, she tensed, her head jerking sharply to the side. With a loud and involuntary shout she yelled, “Bugger off!” The room fell silent, all eyes turning to her. A slight blush crept across her face, and she offered an apologetic smile that only deepened the bemusement on the faces of the assembled Death Eaters. “I’ll have whatever she’s having,” Tom Riddle said, his voice smooth, filled with dark amusement. He regarded Cersei with an arched brow, intrigued by the bright-eyed girl who had the audacity to disregard the deep shadows of their meetings. The tension that hung in the air just moments ago dissipated slightly, with some members chuckling at her outburst while others exchanged looks of annoyance. Barty grimaced at the humiliation that washed over her. “Cersei. Please,” he said softly, a mixture of concern and affection in his eyes, his hands gently squeezing her arm to regain her focus. “Remember your breathing?” She nodded, her breath quickening as she fought to control another involuntary surge. Just as Barty tightened the silencing charm, it slipped from his mental grasp. Cersei, unrestrained now, blurted out, “What’s wrong with all of you? Are you all bloody mad?” The chuckles turned to outright laughter as Tom’s interest was piqued. “Perhaps she’s the only sane one among us,” he said, examining her with a blend of admiration and curiosity, his voice cool and calculating. “Cersei, tell me, do you ever feel this… uncontrolled?” For her, the meeting room began to wane, the walls closing in with palpable anxiety. She didn’t quite understand what was wrong with her and had learned to live in ignorance. She could only nod. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” she admitted, her voice shaky. “It just... happens.” “I find it delightful,” Tom replied smoothly, and her gaze met his, an unexplained comfort in his piercing red eyes that made her feel safe amidst the chaos. Barty tightened his grip, his own irritation bubbling under the surface but tempered by his need to shield Cersei from the scrutiny of the room. The dinner continued, though Barty couldn’t focus on the plans or the ambitions spilling forth from the lips of his peers. Instead, he watched Cersei sporadically twitch and squirm, her eyes glazing over for moments at a time, only to be thrust back into the physical realm by another sudden outcry. “My hair’s on fire!” she exclaimed inches away from Tom, staring wide-eyed at the chandelier. Laughter mingled with incredulity, but Barty’s heart sank. How was he to protect her from that laughter, the ones who believed a mere outburst could tarnish his reputation, his standing in the Dark Lord’s inner circle? As the hours stretched like shadows, eventually drawing towards an end, Barty took hold of her coat as they prepared to leave. With gentle fingers, he helped her into it, leaning in as he whispered words that only she could hear. “You’re doing well, love. Just breathe.” Cersei smiled brightly, but her eyes conveyed a depth of sadness, as if she felt the world around her dim just a fraction further every time she lost control. Days turned into weeks, and as Tom’s empire expanded, he spoke of his fascination with Cersei endlessly to Barty. “She might be an intriguing subject for my latest research, don’t you think?” he asked, leaning back in his chair with an enigmatic smile. Barty felt a surge of protectiveness rush through him, mixed with a fierce loyalty to Cersei. “You won’t touch her with your experiments,” he replied firmly, a boundary drawn that even Tom’s curiosity could not cross. The beautiful Cersei, with her laughter and her loud exclamations, had thrust herself into the dynamic of their lives, disrupting the course of sensing intrigue in the most profound manner. Barty marveled at her resilience yet bristled at the idea of her becoming an object of study. One enchanting evening, with the moonlight filtering through the windows, Cersei stood nervously before a mirror. “What do you think, Barty?” she asked, wearing a gown spun of moonlight and shadow. She twirled, the fabric billowing around her. “Beautiful. Utterly compelling,” he replied, his breath catching. She beamed, but her expression shifted as she felt a familiar tickle in her throat. Then, to his chagrin, the silencing charm succumbed to the magic of that moment and she exclaimed, “I’m going to explode! Where’s the blasted cake?” As laughter erupted through the room, even Barty couldn’t suppress a smile. Between the chaos and the elegance, through the ticked emotions and wild obscenities, he realized that in all the darkness surrounding them, it was Cersei’s light that led him forward, and in turn, continuously reshaped the life they were meant to share.