Written For
Pairing the Character Competition (Fleur, BartyFleur)
It is a risk- a stupid, horribly unnecessary risk. But he's watched her. She isn't the most talented witch, but she's clever enough to catch his interest. And her beauty! God, Barty isn't sure that he's ever seen anyone quite as lovely as Fleur Delacour.
She doesn't know his face. She doesn't know about the terrible things that he's done. To her, he will not be little more than a monster.
He lets his disguise fall, but his faithful flask is at his side. He can't be completely stupid with this.
"Bit late for a swim, isn't it?" he asks, grinning.
The witch turns, her cheeks like roses in the silvery moonlight. "I did not realize someone else was here," she says, and her velvet voice wraps around him like a warm embrace.
"I live in the village," he lies. "Sometimes I like to come here at night. It helps me think. I'm sorry I startled you."
"I was not startled," she says, though the faintest tremble in her voice says otherwise.
Barty laughs and moves closer. "Wouldn't mind a swim myself. If you don't mind the company."
"Actually…"
"I see. I understand," he murmurs, unable to tear his eyes away from her slender body.
She pulls her robe back on. "It is late. A swim was a foolish idea," she says simply before walking past him without a second glance.
Barty watches her as she goes, sighing. It had been a stupid risk, and he had been an idiot for thinking something might come of it.
He pulls the flask from his pocket, taking a deep swig, and within moments, he is safe in Moody's skin again, forced to content himself with just stealing glances at a beautiful girl.