**A Glimmer in Darkness**

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 grand dining hall of Malfoy Manor shimmered under the flickering light of enchanted candles, an air of grandeur enveloping the long oak table laden with lavish dishes. Barty Crouch Jr. sat at the head of the table, his posture rigid as he surveyed the gathering. The dark robes of Voldemort’s inner circle clung to the dimly lit atmosphere like shadows. Yet among them, a bright-eyed presence stood out—Cersei Wood, Barty's fiancée, radiating an ethereal beauty that often distracted from the sinister undertones of the gatherings. Cersei's long auburn hair framed her delicate face, and her eyes sparkled with an innocence that seemed at odds with her surroundings. She wore an elegant dress, the fabric flowing gracefully, but every few seconds, she’d break the facade of composure with an uncontrollable twitch of her head or a sudden exclamation of “Bloody hell!” that sent ripples of startled laughter through the assembly. Barty’s cheeks flushed, and he cast a weary glance in her direction, flicking his wand discreetly to place a silencing charm around her. Dinner commenced, the conversation flowing smoothly until Cersei, unaware of the enchantment, grinned widely before blurting out another curse, “What the hell is this slop?” The room stuttered to a halt, eyes darting to the young woman who seemed utterly unfazed by the collective shock. Barty sighed, tightening his fist under the table, wrestling with the conflicting emotions of love and frustration that engulfed him. The arrangement of their engagement, dictated by family and loyalty to Voldemort, had never sat comfortably with Barty. He resented the notion of being tied to someone, particularly someone he perceived as “messed up,” yet Cersei’s sweetness and charm felt like a thread back to humanity amidst the darkness of their world. He pushed the thought away, willing himself to concentrate as the constant ribbing from his fellow Death Eaters shifted towards her. “Isn’t she a bit too… bright for our kind of work?” Lucius Malfoy murmured, a hint of derision glinting in his voice. Barty clenched his jaw. “She’s exactly what we need,” Cersei retorted without missing a beat, her bright voice barely muted by the charm, “You lot could use a bit of sunshine.” The laughter erupted again, and Barty’s heart sank deeper, wishing he could pull her into a bubble where their unrefined reality didn’t intrude. As the night wore on, tension hung thickly, a web of dark predictions and ambitions for Voldemort’s rise. Tom Riddle, the sharp mind harboring grand visions, surveyed Cersei with a curious expression. She was an enigma, part dazzling creature of beauty and part unwitting agent of chaos. The way she disrupted meetings with her outbursts and twitches fascinated him. “Barty,” Tom called, disrupting Cersei’s latest exclamation of “For heaven’s sake!” Barty turned, caught off guard as his leader leaned forward, a glimmer of intrigue lighting up his green eyes. “Have you considered potential benefits to Cersei’s... peculiarities?” Barty hesitated, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. “My fiancée is not a subject for experimentation, Tom.” Tom raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “But think of the possibilities—what if her condition could yield… results? Something beneficial to our cause?” Barty’s heart raced, a flood of protective instincts surging within him. He spat back, “She is not an experiment, Tom!” Cersei seemed oblivious to the severity of their exchanges, too immersed in her own world—twirling a silken napkin, her gaze flitting between the beautifully crafted glassware and the darkly cloaked figures around her. She felt the weight of their eyes, but in a twisted sense, it excited her. These moments of focus made her feel important, as if she mattered among them. As a colored vision in a grayscale world, she kept her smile bright, amused by the peculiarities of the gathering. Later that evening, the silencing charm began to wear off, and as Cersei struggled momentarily before erupting into a string of loud, spontaneous exclamations, Barty froze. “For the love of Merlin!” she shouted, this time louder than usual. A small gasp echoed from Pomona Sprout who sat across the table, glass of red wine half-raised in shock. The clamor turned into hushed whispers, and Barty felt the heat pool in his stomach, knowing the pity and judgment lining the air. Yet even through the sudden panic in his eyes, Cersei continued, caught in a web of unwanted manifestations. “What’s wrong with you lot? Can’t you understand a girl’s tired of the same bloody conversation?” and she fidgeted, her fingers dancing erratically, weaving through the air. Tom’s curiosity was piqued. “Cersei, would you like to share your thoughts with us?” he asked, a disarming smile gracing his features. Cersei flashed a brilliant smile, her mind unaware of the trap slowly unfolding. “Honestly? This food is tragic, and I don’t trust house elves—I think one stared at me last week!” Cersei erupted into laughter, oblivious to the perplexed faces around her. Barty’s heart sank further as Tom leaned back, amusement sparkling in his gaze. “Perhaps her fears could lead to understanding,” he murmured more to himself than anyone else. As Cersei continued to interject with quirky obsessions and peculiar suggestions, Barty felt the tension ignite within him. Defiance stirred in his veins. He was not here merely for Cersei’s charms; he could not permit his fiancée to become the center of twisted amusements. Finally, when Cersei glanced around, lost in her delight, Barty gently took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, grounding her lightly but firmly. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?” With sweet submission, she followed him, her head tilting, laughter bubbling over, oblivious to the rollercoaster of emotions that streamed throughout the room they left behind. As the door closed behind them, Barty felt some weight lift, and at once, Cersei turned to gaze up at him. “You’re always so nice to me, Barty. Like a true knight,” she said. He chuckled softly, brushing a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “You’re worth it, Cersei. You really are.” Beneath the grandeur of darkness encasing their lives, a soft romance flickered amidst the chaos—a sparkle that promised warmth in a world that threatened to encase them in shadows. Together, despite the struggles, they found their light against the encroaching dark.