[for bartemius]

[manwithstyle]

There were many times when it was readily apparent that Albus Dumbledore did not fit many of the preconceived notions of a young man of only eighteen years of age. Times, for example, when he seemed much, much older and far closer in personality to the wizened Headmaster of his alleged future than anyone at his present age had any sense in being.

That morning was most definitely not one of those times.

In fact, it was rather fair to say that any morning in which Albus awoke in the bed of one Bartemius Crouch Jr was not one of those times. On that particular morning, however, it was even less so, mostly owing to the fact that, save for the Resurrection Stone that he wore at all times, he was completely nude and his long, auburn hair, having been freed from its plait the night before, fanned around in his head in a wild and massive tangle of waves. One of his hands rested casually on Bartemius's chest, fingers curled ever so slightly.

He woke up gradually, waiting a few moments before finally opening his eyes. Stifling a yawn, he propped himself up onto one elbow and leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Bartemius's mouth.

"Good morning," he murmured.

Comments

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"I remember that," Barty said, truthfully. "I thought these stupid phenomena only happened once in a given year. Blast. Well," he said, turning and starting to fish about for Albus's clothing, "I guess that kills the lazy morning in bed plan."

[manwithstyle]

"As did I," replied Albus, swinging his legs off of the bed to reach for his shirt that had been discarded the night before. "Apparently the Island has seen fit to change its mind, for lack of a better word. It would be fascinating were it not for the fact that I was an unwilling participant in this game." He turned around, glancing at Bartemius over his shoulder. "Though, I must admit, it does hold some appeal."

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"Oh, no," Barty said, rounding on his some time lover, holding his shirt aloft.

"Don't even think about it, Albus. I will be extremely unhappy. And don't think I can't come up with a question or two for you."

[manwithstyle]

There was, he thought, an interesting parallel between their present situation and what he knew to await them both in their respective futures.

"Oh, but you are so very charming when you're unhappy," he said, turning round to face Bartemius properly. "And, quite frankly, I would be rather disappointed if you didn't. I hold you in remarkably high esteem, despite your questionable hobbies."

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

Barty paused, eyebrows lifting a touch, before he took up a lean against the wall, languidly crossed his arms, and said, "Hold on, this might not be as bad as I thought."

[manwithstyle]

"Is that so?" said Albus with affected surprise. "Why, what is it that has changed your mind? Were you expecting, perhaps, that I would declare some hitherto unknown hatred for your person?"

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"No," Barty said, immediately and without a chance to think about what the next words would be, though they came anyway. "A distaste, perhaps, or worse a condescension."

[manwithstyle]

"The only thing I find distasteful about you is your unwavering loyalty to that fool, Tom Riddle," supplied Albus, his eyes widening slightly at his own candor.

[selfmade-crouch.livejournal.com]

"You never saw him," Barty started, eyes a little harder, then started again, "have never seen him at the height of his power. Or when you do, your proclivities, so to speak, have turned."

[manwithstyle]

"I have, however, met him here," replied Albus, sitting, now, a little straighter. "I was hardly impressed, regardless of my - to borrow your phrase - proclivities. And this was, I should clarify, far before I had ever had the pleasure to read the so called works of Ms. Rowling. A man imprisoned by a score of Muggles?" He scoffed, the disdain plain in his features. "Bartemius, you are worth so much more than that...shadow of a man."