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The courtyard was packed — students lounging between classes, gossiping, studying, laughing. The usual Slytherin and Ravenclaw crowds occupied the stone benches, and even a few Gryffindors dared to stray too close.
Barty was pacing. His hands were shoved into his robes, jaw clenched so tight it was starting to hurt. Every few steps, he shot a look toward Regulus, who was sitting casually against one of the trees, book in hand, long dark hair tied loosely back.
Gorgeous. Effortlessly perfect. Unreachable.
Barty was spiraling, and everyone could see it.
“Crouch looks like he’s about to vomit,” someone snickered nearby.
“Maybe he finally ran out of insults to throw at people,” another whispered.
Barty didn’t care. Or maybe he did — but not enough to stop him from what he was about to do.
He had to get these stupid feelings out. Had to say it out loud. Maybe if he did, the feelings would go away. Right?
He wasn’t going to survive another week of pining after Regulus Black, thinking about his stupid pretty face and sharp tongue and the way he laughed at Barty’s jokes like they were something special.
Barty took a deep breath. Now or never.
He marched up to Regulus, grabbing attention as he stormed across the courtyard. Conversations quieted as people turned to watch. The tension was thick enough to cut with a blade.
Regulus looked up lazily, brows raising. "Barty?" he asked, voice soft but curious. “What’s with the dramatics?”
Barty swallowed hard. He could back down. Right now. He could play it off like always.
But no. Not this time.
"Regulus Black," Barty said loudly, voice wavering but still holding strong. "I’m in love with you."
Silence. Pin-drop silence.
Someone gasped.
Barty’s cheeks burned. But he pressed on, determined. "I’ve been in love with you since fourth year — and I know, I know you don’t feel the same way. I get it. You’re too good for me, obviously. But I just— I had to say it. So I can finally— finally stop." His voice cracked a little at the end, and he clenched his fists to hide the shake.
Regulus blinked. Slowly. Like he was trying to process what he’d just heard.
"...Barty," Regulus said, tilting his head. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Barty flinched, mistaking the confusion for rejection. He laughed bitterly, glancing away. "Yeah, no, it’s fine. Forget it. Just— I’ll leave you alone—"
Regulus stood up so fast his book dropped to the ground. He grabbed Barty by the collar and yanked him closer, eyes narrowed. "Explain. Now."
Barty stared at him, wide-eyed. "I— I just did?"
Regulus scowled. "You confessed your feelings like I didn’t already know."
"...What?" Barty croaked.
Regulus rolled his eyes, but there was something fond behind the exasperation. "Barty. We’ve been dating for months."
The courtyard, which had been holding its collective breath, exploded into gasps and murmurs .
"What?!" Barty yelped, red as a tomato. "Since when?!"
Regulus looked honestly offended. "Since we started sneaking off together every night. Since you started bringing me tea in the library. Since you kissed me behind the Quidditch stands, you idiot."
Barty's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "I— I thought— I thought that was just, like, casual flirting ! Like, you being... you !"
Regulus huffed a sharp laugh, leaning in close enough that only Barty could hear. "I don’t casually make out with people in the astronomy tower, Barty."
Barty was speechless .
"You’re such an idiot," Regulus said, but there was no venom in it. Only warmth. "And you’re mine. Which you would’ve known if you’d bothered to ask."
"Yours?" Barty whispered, voice cracking with disbelief.
Regulus smirked. "Obviously."
Then, without hesitation, he kissed Barty in front of everyone — slow, deep, and possessive.
The courtyard erupted again.
From across the grass, Evan Rosier shouted, "Pay up, Mulciber! Told you they were together!"
Sirius, somewhere nearby, let out a loud, "WHAT THE HELL?!"
When they broke the kiss, Barty was breathless, dazed, and completely, stupidly in love .
Regulus grinned and ran a hand through Barty's hair. "You're buying me tea for this, by the way."
"Anything you want," Barty muttered, still in shock. "Anything."
Regulus’s smirk softened into something dangerously close to affection. "Good. Because you’re mine. Don’t forget it next time, idiot."