Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Evan Rosier's life has been an endless monotony. 

He had the good days, many years ago, the changes in the world, the crazy parties and the thrill of knowing this would be forever. But at some point, life started to get quite boring. 

This happens when you're a vampire for too long, you just lose the taste for life even when you know you could do anything you wanted to. 

Things got static when Evan and his family moved to Hogwarts in the last century. Hogwarts was an anomaly in the shape of the world, the ancient vampire town. The only place in the whole of Europe where vampire clans could coexist between themselves and among humans. 

There are four clans in Hogwarts, twenty-eight ancient vampire families living in the small town located in the middle of Scotland, Evan's family always was one of those families, but Evan and Pandora, his twin, only moved in some time ago. Before that, only their older brother and father represented the family. Evan and Pandora killed both of them, claiming the family place for themselves and becoming a part of the Slytherin clan. 

The clans have been at war many centuries ago, but now they live in almost peace as well as other supernatural orders. Hogwarts became a safe place for people like them, even with the human population living close to the city. With its big forest, mystical legends and goth, old manors away from the city. 

Evan came here because he was tired of living, of being lost in the world where he needed to hide. Of falling in love with humans only to watch them die. After a while, the meaning of life gets quite lost and you only want some monotonous, quiet place where you can just be without fearing for your life. Pandora saw them happy in Hogwarts, so they killed the rest of their family and claimed the old Rosier manor back to themselves. 

Pandora got the best end of the stick, finding love in Hogwarts and something to live for. But despite friends and freedom, Evan got trapped in nothingness and boredom. 

He doesn't hate Hogwarts and he's also not trapped in the place, but Evan got bored of the rest of the world so he doesn't have the energy to go somewhere else. 

Even so, Evan won't lie to himself. Hogwarts it's a boring town, with the same people, the same places and the same news. A town built by vampires, made for vampires. Where it rains too much, rarely gets hot and it's covered in dark clouds. 

Until something changes.

It starts with the heavy knock on Regulus' door. 

Regulus Black belongs to the most ancient and noble house of vampires. His family probably founded Hogwarts and his house it's a very old and imperious thing. He killed his parents and took the place of being the head of the Slytherin clan, almost half of his family is dead, except for his sister and two cousins. He's also Evan's best friend, with slender body, black curly hair, pale skin and gray eyes. Regulus is haughty and posh, beautiful and deadly. Royalty when compared to others and he knows it. 

People normally don't go knocking on his door, he lives very far away from the city, Hogsmeade, in the hills of Hogwarts close to the Forbidden Forest. So all of them find it weird when someone comes knocking on his door one morning, attentive to who might be. 

Regulus opened the door and James Potter was standing there, with messy dark hair, glasses and a somber expression. He's also the reason for Regulus' annoyance, his ex-boyfriend even if he says they never dated and the vampire he has been fucking for decades now behind everyone's back. He thinks it thrills Regulus, to know he can do this push-and-pull dance with James for eternity. 

James is the head of the Gryffindor clan, living on the other side of the town farthest from the Forest, and also the best friend of Regulus' sister. 

"Potter," Regulus greets boredly. 

Evan knows something did happen when James doesn't try to flirt/insult Regulus or ogle him. He gets inside Grimmauld Place, a very dark, gothic and eerie house. James looks to the three of them, Evan, Pandora and Dorcas sitting in the living room with their cup of tea in hand and dark clothes and nods in greeting. 

"Good, all of you are here," he acknowledges. 

"Why are you here?" Regulus promptly asks. 

"Something happened," he replies, almost faintly. "We tried to keep it down because we weren't sure but…"

"But?" Dorcas presses him for more information, seeming almost detached. She's a Meadowes, also part of the twenty-eight vampire families that built Hogwarts. Dorcas has dark brown skin and dark locs, silver piercing in her nose and sharp nails. She looks too perfect to be real but she can kill you in a blink. 

"There's a killer in Hogwarts."

"And that's our problem because?" Regulus blinks. Out of all the clans, Slytherin it's the most apathetic to humans. They use them to fuck and to feed, but they rarely care about their well-being. 

"Because it's definitely a vampire," James replies nervously. 

Regulus sighs, already tired. Vampire issues are dealt with by vampires, by the clans and their organization as a whole. Even if half of the humans in Hogwarts know about vampires, witches and werewolves, it's strictly forbidden to harm them or draw attention to themselves. Even if it's known in Hogwarts, being a vampire should be kept as a secret from the world. 

"And?" Regulus asks again. 

"Do you know something about it?" 

"Slytherins are not killing humans and leaving the bodies behind," he snaps. "We're not careless." 

"The bodies were found in different places," James explains. "One in my territory, the other in the Forbidden Forest this morning. We're holding a meeting tonight at eleven."

"I'm letting the others know about it," Regulus says boredly. "Anything else?"

James looks accusingly at Pandora, making Evan glare at him. "Do you know something?" 

Pandora grins almost maniacally at James, her curls wilder than normal, dyed in a pale blond almost white, contrasting beautifully with her light brown skin and pale blue eyes,— The eyes of a seer. Pandora is one of the only seers in the Rosier family, she can see pictures of the future in dreams, some broken flashes of what will happen and have what she calls feelings. She looks majestic but also very wrong, like you should be wary of her because her heavenly looks hide something much cruel behind them. Evan looks like her, but without pale blue eyes, because he's not a seer, his eyes are honey-brown instead. 

"No, I don't think I did," she denies. "Why would I keep it to myself if there's a vampire killing humans?" 

"You're a seer," James says almost annoyedly. 

"Exactly, a seer not a fortune teller, I can't answer questions about the future, I can only see what they want me to see. And I didn't see a thing about this."

"Anything else, Potter?" Evan asks him, daring him to accuse his sister of lying. He wouldn't say the clans disdain each other, but vampires like James annoy him. The type that cares too much about everything so they can still remember their human side. Their compassion and all of that. The type who doesn't want to completely give in to the bloodlust monster they really are. 

"I guess not," he mutters, looking at Regulus with something close to love and similar to anger. "At eleven. Don't get late."

"I wouldn't dare," Regulus mocks him. 

Without another word, James disappears in a blink, hitting the door before running away. 

The four of them stay quiet in the living room, drinking their tea calmly even with the news of a possible killer in Hogwarts. 

"When was the last time a true crime happened in Hogwarts?" Pandora wonders. 

"One that wasn't committed and hidden by us?" Dorcas asks. "A really long time."

"And now, a vampire," she sighs dreamily. "I think we're about to have some fun finally, don't you think?" She looks at them expectantly. 

"Did you really see nothing?" Regulus asks, more curious than accusingly. He wouldn't care about them holding back information from James or about the killer. Regulus rarely cares about things, he definitely doesn't care about a vampire killer leaving bodies behind. 

"I saw something," she reveals just to them. "But not anything that will help." 

Evan wants to ask her what she saw, but he knows when Pandora won't share her visions. She likes to keep things to herself when she fears revealing them will change the course of things. The future it's undefined, she always says. A single change and everything can be rewritten. If she's keeping this, then that's a reason for that. 

"Is this going to be a problem for us?" Regulus asks.

"No," she smiles creepily. "Not a problem at all."

"Awesome. Let the killer have their own party around the city. We have too many humans, anyway. But don't show up late at the meeting." 

"Aye, aye, captain," Evan grins. 

He feels some change in the air already.

♰

The Sacred Twenty-eight, as they call themselves, takes their organization and secrets very seriously. When things get out of hand, when rules are broken or vampires are crossing lines, it's normal for them to set up meetings so they can discuss it. A possible vampire killer means they need an emergency meeting. 

Everyone is here, all seven families from each clan. With time, most families started to die down, since the reproductive trick for the vampire families is something brutal and almost too inhuman to be followed, so a huge part of them are smaller than centuries ago. The Blacks were a huge family, for example, but nowadays it's just Regulus on one side and Sirius on the other, Narcissa married Lucius Malfoy decades ago, Andromeda married a human and was cut off from the clan and Bellatrix was killed on trial. It's common for vampires to choose to kill themselves after too much time alive or family killing family, it's only how things are when you're immortal, honestly. 

Each clan sits on each side of circled seats, with a small elevated stage in the middle where their mediator, Cornelius, stands, trying to shush them. 

Evan is bored already, each time all of them are together, it's too loud and messy. They want to talk on top of each other and a fight always happens. Between them, as guests, two witches and werewolves are also present. 

"Quiet!" Cornelius screams, causing the voices to die down. The only sound it's Sirius' bubblegum popping in the Gryffindor side to the west. "We're now starting this meeting. First, we would like to pass the speech to James about the situation."

James stands, in jeans and a white shirt, like a fucking cult leader. Drawing their attention to him. "To those who don't know what this is about, two days ago Remus and I found a dead body in our territory, close to the end of the town."

"Why do we care?" Emma Vanity, one of the vampires in the Slytherin clan, asks. 

"Why do people care about dead people, Emma?" Emmeline Vance asks, rolling her eyes in the Ravenclaw side to the south. 

"Excluding the reasons why some of you should care, a killer draws quite the attention to it, don't you think?" James asks, cutting their argument because Emma and Emmeline are known to stay hours arguing with each other. "We decided to not communicate the issue, but this morning another body was found in the Forbidden Forest. We're almost certain the killer is a vampire. The blood of the victims was dry and their wrists and neck were ripped apart messily." 

"A wildling?" Amelia Bones from Hufflepuff asks, a frown on her face. 

Believe it or not, vampires are an order of tradition, at least the oldest of them. It's normal for clans to exist, and though it's not uncommon, there are some vampires that would rather not be a part of any clans,— The wildlings. Vampires who live only for themselves and don't abide by the rules. They can be messy, especially if the wildling in question is a killer drawing attention to their killing. 

"It's a possibility, yes," James nods. "We wanted to know if any of you noticed something strange these past few days."

"And if it was one of you, well, it's better to just confess now before we start searching for the killer. The answer to human public murder is death by trial," Cornelius warns them. 

"Shouldn't we ask the Blacks about it?" Some asshole from Gryffindor asks. 

"Not all of us are attention whores like Bellatrix," Regulus replies dryly, almost too bored from the typical accusation. 

"Plus, if I was going to be a serial killer, I would do it more dramatically," Sirius adds, grinning and blowing another bubble. "Killing someone that brutally and throwing them around without any dramatics isn't my style." 

"We need to catch the killer as soon as possible," Lily Evans, one of the witches present, says. Pandora is by her side curling a finger in her red hair while Dorcas holds her hand, both with a necklace holding a vial of Lily's blood. "Killing in the Forbidden Forest messes with the balance of nature. Witches can't do witchcraft if the forest is dealing with bad blood." 

"Don't we have a single clue about who the killer might be?" Benjy Fenwick asks. "In the forest, I can understand, it's vast and big, but it shouldn't be impossible to catch a vampire in your own territory Potter." 

"If I had one, we wouldn't be here, would we?" James replies patiently. 

"What do you suggest then?" Lucius Malfoy inquires. 

"We need to hunt this killer and do the police's job," James says. "Dudley is already aware of the problem, but they're going to keep quiet from the population. We have until the killer leaves a body in a public place for a citizen to find to catch them." 

"What about her?" Bartemius Crouch from Ravenclaw points a finger at Pandora. "The girl is a seer, certainly she can help with this."

"As I told Potter, I'm not a fortune teller, I only see what my gift wants to show me," she smiles at Crouch. "And unfortunately, I didn't have any dream about a killer. I can't help."

"That leaves us with nothing again," Slughorn sighs, on the Slytherin seats. "We need to contain the hysteria if the humans discover it, and avoid outsiders who might want to know about the case."

"Agreed," Remus nods. He's one of the only hybrids in Hogwarts, a werewolf turned into a vampire decades ago when he fell in love with Sirius. He's barely a werewolf anymore, Evan is not sure how it works to be both. "But even if they don't find the bodies, they'll realize people going missing. It's a small town." 

"Missing people are way more acceptable than dead bodies," Emmeline voices out. 

"Let's start a night search for them," James suggests. 

"You want us to hunt a killer on our own violation?" Regulus snorts. 

"We need to stick together," He grits out. 

"I'm not wasting my time on this."

"Oh, come on, Reggie," Sirius pouts. "It can be fun!" 

"You do it yourself." 

For many years, there was bad blood between the Back siblings. But the thing about immortality it's that it's pointless to stay mad at family if you're not going to get rid of them, so they eventually made up. Sirius is one of the only people in the world Regulus cares about. She's not a Slytherin anymore, going to Gryffindor after a while and leaving her brother with their parents. Away but not unreachable. Gryffindor matches Sirius way more than Slytherin ever could. 

"This won't work if the Slytherins are not willing to help," a Hufflepuff grunts. "Maybe it's one of them."

"We're smarter than that," Dorcas rolls her eyes. "Whoever is killing those people wants attention, they know this is a vampire town."

"Do you think they're a newly turned vampire?" Emmeline asks. 

"My guess? No," Remus replies. "It was messy and quite brutal, but it was also methodical in the details. This person knows how to kill and has been doing it for a while."

"Great," Regulus mutters. 

"Let's just agree on hunting the bastard," Hestia Jones, the head of Hufflepuff says. "And if we have news, we summon a new meeting. That works?" 

"It's the best we can do," some of them nod. 

"Keep your ears attentive to screaming sounds," James warns them. "And if you find a body, warn one of the heads of the clans."

"Not me," Regulus dismisses the responsibility. 

"You're such a grumpy bitch, Reggie," Sirius sighs. "Can we go now?" She looks at James expectantly. 

"I guess," he sighs, sitting again and leaving the ending to Cornelius.

"Well, with that being said I think you're free to go. Careful with this killer, they only killed humans but they might start aiming at us." 

"How fun that would be," Evan comments quietly, making Pandora snort. 

"Dismissed," Cornelius announces. 

The vampire killer hunting begins. 

♰

It takes two more days for a new body to show up in the Hufflepuff territory. Thinking they found a pattern, they start doing night rounds on the Ravenclaw and Slytherin territory two days after that, but no human is killed. A body only shows up in Ravenclaw territory four days after that, proving that the killer is far more aware of their plans. And at some point, Evan does start thinking about being one of the Slytherins, until a body shows up in the hills close to the Lestrange's manor, abandoned in the wet soil between the trees. 

Despite Regulus' warning, Rabastan calls him when he finds the body. 

Regulus calls Dorcas, Pandora and Evan to go with him, and under black umbrellas, with expensive shoes, black clothes and sunglasses, they go to the body.

It's a girl, with dead eyes open and a pale, cold body. There's dried blood on her wrists and neck, some stains in her pale green shirt and blond hair. Her neck is broken almost methodically. She's very dead and had her blood very drunk. Evan can smell the strong scent of blood, but nothing other than that, not a whiff of perfume or a particular scent. It's a clean murder scene.

"Well," Regulus comments, staring at the body close to them. "I was starting to feel left out."

"Now we'll have to deal with a dead body in our territory," Dorcas says. "We should warn Potter and get rid of the body." 

"I was thinking," Regulus tells them. "All the bodies were found in places where civilians don't normally walk close by."

"Yes?" Evan indulges him.

"It's almost like they know the territory." 

"You think it's one of us?" Dorcas asks, staring at the body. 

"No, I think it's a wildling," he replies. "But one who knows how to think like one of us." 

"Someone who was part of it but left?" Evan questions. 

"It's possible," he hums. 

"Any ideas?" Pandora asks. Regulus looks at her quietly, almost attentively, and Pandora only smiles in a way made only for Regulus. It's a creepy and uneasy thing. 

"None," he ends up replying. 

Pandora's smile gets wider, showing all of her white teeth. "We should bury the body, then." 

"We should." 

♰

After two weeks, none of them have a single clue about the killer. Who they might be, where they came from or their killing schedule. All the crime scenes are the same, but not a single body was left in populated places, only in vampire or witches territory. By the sixth body, they understood that the killer was really smart to cover their tracks and act at the right moments. They're silent, their victims never scream or ask for help. No matter how attentive they become, they never hear something suspicious far away or catch a single trace about the killer. It's almost like they're a ghost, a non-existent entity that only shows up to kill. 

By now, the civilians of Hogsmeade are already reporting missing people, all the victims of the killer, and the clans are trying their best to find the killer before things get out of hand. 

Evan doesn't particularly care. 

Even if it turns public, if not even vampires can catch the killer, humans also won't. It will attract quite the attention, yes, but no major secret will be found out. 

After so many years alive, killing became a small thing to worry about. Evan doesn't care about the deaths, he's more intrigued by how the killer does it. He won't mourn these people, he won't condemn the killer, it's just how things are. Vampires get bored and oftenly see humans as prey, it's not unusual to kill some of them, but Evan recognizes this one in particular wants the attention. He's just not sure why. 

With the killer still out there, the organization made the night searches mandatory, which means Evan has to walk alone in the middle of the forest around the Rosier manor in search of a killer. He can't get out of it, not even Regulus managed that. Even if they don't care, with a majority vote, they need to participate in the search. Sometimes, Evan hates the clan's politics. 

It's very late when Evan starts his night watch. Hogwarts it's a town surrounded by green, tall trees and woods, the biggest one being the Forbidden Forest, and after so many years Evan knows the path blind. It's chilly outside and the night sky it's full of starts with the moon shining brightly. He doesn't need light to see, having a night vision that helps him walk through the dark forest without problems. It's just Evan in this area, Pandora moved to the Meadowes manor a long time ago and the closest manor belongs to the Vanity's ten minutes from Evan's place. 

He walks around this forest a lot in his free time, knows the calmest places, the small river that runs to the Forbidden Forest and the small cave with a fox coven. 

In his opinion, it's quite stupid to make the night walk mandatory, they already know the victims don't scream because a bunch of vampires are paying attention to this sort of thing, even Evan. He trains his ears to catch any suspicious sound, but not one single scream of pain comes to his ears. There's a very far away scream of pleasure, but besides that, nothing. 

Evan gets even more inside of the woods but a particular noise makes him stop. A twig snapping, and then, a low, drawn moan. In the fucking woods. 

It's not uncommon to have people fucking around the woods, the witches in the Forbidden Forest have weird rituals of connection and strength where they fuck in the middle of the trees all the time, werewolves also are slightly known to fuck around there, but not in the woods surrounding Evan's place. It's normally quiet out here because it belongs to the hill, where mostly people don't come close. The hills are Slytherin territory and only has woods and dark manors, so the fact that there are people fucking here it's strange. 

Curiously, Evan follows the sound very quietly, superspeed making his steps sound like nothing and feel like he's floating instead of walking. Evan is immortal, so the smallest things can make him curious while the big ones don't impress him anymore, it's in the small details the fun usually is. 

The sound gets louder,— little, puffed moans like their voice it's getting weaker. He stops a little far away, hiding slightly behind a tree and shocking himself with the scene before him. 

Without realizing, Evan starts to grin. 

In front of him, in the middle of the woods, there's a woman lying in the mudded soil, the one moaning. But it's not her that catches Evan's attention. It's the man holding her like she's nothing under him. Kneeling on the ground and bending on top of the woman, kissing her neck. No. Not kissing. Drinking from her. Pulling her hair so her throat it's exposed, fangs sinked deep on her. By this position, Evan can only see his back, he's tall and lean, and there's a tattoo on his nape, a single and small thing written in Russian. 

The girl spasms weakly on his arms, and her moan now looks more like a weak, painful sound. Her heart it's beating very slowly, losing its strength. Evan can smell the strong scent of blood and his gums itch a bit, fangs wanting to come down and the desire of tasting her blood growing in his body. She smells deliciously. 

When her heart stops, it's when Evan watches with sick fascination the last steps of a crime scene. The vampire tears her throat apart with strength, the squishy sound of blood resounding through the silent woods, when he's finished, he goes to her wrists, doing the same thing there and even breaking a few bones with the force of his bite. It's brutal but very meticulous, and it impresses Evan, how graceful he can be in the middle of such a violent act. 

Evan doesn't move. A part of him knows he should just warn someone that he found who everyone was looking for, but the prospect of talking to the killer thrills him more. It's quite hard to move Evan, he lost the privilege of feeling normal things, and the excitement growing in the pit of his stomach makes him ignore all of what he should do. 

He doesn't want to turn the killer in. Not yet, at least. 

The killer stops, apparently watching the dead body in the mudded ground, as if admiring his own work. He spends some time just frozen in place, doesn't move a muscle, until his hoarse and dazed voice resounds through the forest. 

"You're there for a while."

There's a fainted accent in his voice, something strong with a heavy r sound, and by the tattoo on his neck, Evan knows he's probably Russian. 

The vampire turns around, looking directly at Evan, and even in the dark he can see as clear as the day. He has dark hair, messy and soft in the moonlight. Piercings, on his eyebrow, nose and ears. A silver necklace with a cross charm. Sharp jawline and big, defined nose. He's strikingly beautiful, rough and sharp, with blood all over his face, neck and clothes. His white shirt it's soaked in blood, and if Evan's breath could falter, he knows it would. 

Evan saw many beautiful men in his life, but this one, this one wins. He's not just beautiful, he's unhinged and dangerous. His eyes are pitched black since he just fed, and Evan finds himself really attracted to him.

"It's you," Evan says finally. Observing quietly the man in front of him. Covered in blood and with a deadly smirk on his lips now that he knows Evan is watching him. "You're the killer."

"I am," he agrees easily, sucking his fingers and cleaning the blood. It's deadly, almost sensual. He doesn't care about the dead body, doesn't care about the cruelty of his own actions. He's not remorseful or regretful. It's like he's enjoying his own mess. 

"Barty Crouch Jr," Evan pronounces slowly. "I didn't know you were back." 

Evan doesn't know Barty Crouch Jr, but he knows of him. 

Years before Evan and Pandora moved to Hogwarts and erased the rest of their family, Dorcas and Regulus used to have a third friend. The son of Bartemius Crouch, the head of the Ravenclaw clan. Neither Dorcas or Regulus talk much about Barty, he's almost an urban legend to those who have been here for a far longer time, but Evan knows he was banned from the Ravenclaw clan by his father, went away and never came back. 

Evan never saw him in person, but he remembers intently watching a painting in Regulus' library of the three of them. He studied Barty's face before, by Regulus and Dorcas' side, serious and severe but with a hint of mischief in the small corner of his lips. In person, Barty is far more beautiful, his painting didn't do him any justice. 

Barty frowns slightly, his eyes coming back to normal slightly, revealing very dark irises. He gets on his feet slowly, standing tall, and Evan admires his proportions. The small size of his waist, his pointed collarbones dirty with blood, big hands with red palms and long legs. Even almost entirely covered, Evan can tell Barty has a lot of tattoos, and he wonders curiously about them. 

"I don't know you," he comments. 

"Evan Rosier." A flash of recognition consumes his eyes. 

"Ah," he breathes out amusedly. "You don't look like your brother."

"Different mothers," he explains. Felix was blond, smaller, with baby blue eyes and pale skin. Evan and Pandora had nothing to do with him, they're more like their mother, whoever she was. 

"I see," he mutters curiously. His head tilts to the side and he considers Evan for a moment. "I think I prefer you, pretty boy."

"That so?" He arches an eyebrow. 

"You're nicer to look at," he smirks lazily. Probably drunk on blood. "How is your brother and old man, I wonder?"

"Dead," he replies. "Killed them."

"What a troublemaker!" He exclaims with a crazy grin. Barty walks closer to Evan, but he doesn't move, resting his back on the trunk of the tree. "Well, Evan darling, you just uncovered me."

"You knew I was there all the time," he points out. "Yet, you didn't stop. Why?"

He knows Barty could, if he wanted to, he was turned a long time ago. Long enough to know how to control his own hunger and instincts. 

It's almost doctrinal, to learn how to feed without killing. Vampires are apex predators, they like to hunt their prey, like to chase and like to kill. When they feed, they want to kill it, to suck them dry and hold the lifeless bodies. But it's messy. It's dangerous and reckless. They live in a world where they need to manage to control their urges, hide their true natures. It's why vampire clans are so important, because it gives you rules and makes you learn how to control yourself. 

But Barty is not trying to control himself. He embraced his true nature. He knows he's on the top of the food chain and he's not going to apologize for it. 

"You were watching, not trying to catch me," when he smiles now, Evan can see the blood on his teeth and mouth. "You didn't scream. You didn't try to stop me. Why is that, dorogoy?" 

"I'm not interested in stopping you," he reveals. "This city it's quite boring, seeing you driving everyone mad it's taking me out of my boredom. If I turn you in, you're going to die. A wildling causing trouble with humans?" He tsks. "You're causing quite a mess, love." 

"A wildling," he repeats with a chuckle, licking the blood on his lip. "You vampires, always against freedom."

"Freedom," he savors the word. "This is freedom to you?" He points at the dead body. 

"Isn't it?" He blinks at him. "I don't follow rules, I do as I please. Vampires are immortal, we're above rules, yet, all the clans do is try to shove rules down our throats," he snorts. "It's controlling, and for what? Human's benefit?"

"You don't think we should've rules?" Evan asks curiously. 

"No," he replies. "I don't." 

"Every society needs control, without rules we're chaotic and messy," he says. "Look at what you're doing, it's causing havoc and for what? Your amusement?"

"I'm simply feeding," he says innocently. 

Evan laughs. "You're making a spectacle out of this. Letting the bodies behind in specific places. Coming back after you were banned years ago. And why is that? Why did you come back?" 

"I was bored," he shrugs. So casually. So detached. "And I had unfinished business here."

It clicks them. Barty's father made him go away, then proceed to act like Barty didn't exist at all. He made a ghost out of his own son, and now Barty is doing a mess because he wants the attention. He wants to enrage his father. 

"Really?" He laughs loudly. "You're killing people and making a mess out of it because of your unresolved daddy issues?" 

In a blink, Barty moves fastly, holding Evan tightly by the neck and pressing him against the tree, immobilizing him. Evan doesn't fight back, he likes Barty's weight holding him back. Likes the feeling of his cold hand around his neck and nails digging at the dead skin. 

"I might be trying to get his attention, but the killing barely has anything to do with him. Do you know how I can get my victims, Evan darling?" 

"How?" He asks with a choked voice. 

"I simply smile and offer them a fun trip," he grins. He smells so much like blood this close, Evan wants to lick out of him. "We hold the power because humans are so easily tricked. Their lives are miserable, they're bored, they just work and work, having nothing to make them feel alive. But you know what can make them have the time of their lives? Vampire's bite. They would do anything for it, to feel the high and the thrill, knowing we can rip their throats with just a bite. I just give them what they want." 

"And kills them right after," he points out. "Hardly the thrill they were searching for, don't you think?" 

"I offer them heaven before taking their lives," he shrugs again. "Why do you think people stay in Hogwarts? Half of them know about us, yet they chose to stay, and why? Because their lives are pathetic and having such dangerous monsters close by excites them."

"And your thrill it's about playing god, killing stupid humans and getting your daddy mad?" He smiles tauntly at him. "Yet you dare talk about pathetic lives." 

His grip tightens and Evan feels disappointed that the marks will heal as soon as Barty lets him go. 

"I'm not playing God, I'm just following my nature. We're made for this, for blood and death, time made us control ourselves but this is what being like us means. I'm on the top of the food chain and I'm not going to control myself because of stupid rules." 

His face it's closer to Evan's now, and he can almost taste the blood on his tongue. Looking at him, Evan realizes Barty's eyes are not dark, but blue. A blue so deep and peculiar it's almost black in the dark. 

Evan knows Barty's type. The type that despises humans and barely considers them important. They live less, their lives are small and they continue to destroy the world because they think they are on the top of the food chain. But they're not. Vampires are, and they spent centuries trying to pretend they barely exist. Hiding, always hiding, following rules and traditions. Vampires like Barty, the ones that preach for freedom, don't live by these rules. They live by themselves only, killing whoever they want because it's simply instinct, not caring about control or order. They're lonely, yet free creatures. 

"And this is your plan?" He asks him, holding his wrist like a silent request for Barty to lose his grip so Evan can talk. "You're going to kill all of those people for how long? And what if someone finds out? You're going to be killed by trial, you know this."

"No one will find out," he says confidently.

"I did."

"I let you find me," he smiles at him, widely and creepily. "I knew you were approaching me from the beginning, I just didn't care."

"What didn't you?" He asks him, not getting it. 

"You were careful," he nuzzles his nose close to Evan's jaw, not touching but almost doing it. "You stopped. You watched. Someone eager to turn me in wouldn't be so calm and entranced by it." 

Evan doesn't know how Barty can possibly know that, he was with back turned to Evan, he didn't have breathing or heartbeats to conclude any of this. Yet, he sounds sure that Evan wasn't going to tell on him. 

"Even if no one finds out, then what?"

"My dad will realize it's me," he says easily. "He won't tell a single soul about it because he wouldn't want the bad attention on him. He thinks I'm a savage beast, he would want to deal with me alone."

"And then?"

"Then I'm killing him," he tells him like it's a secret, whispering right into Evan's ear. 

"What if I stop you?" He asks him, voice quiet and raspy. "What if I tell everyone I know who the killer is?"

"Oh, darling," he smiles against the side of face, bloody lips touching the shell of his ear. "You won't tell a soul about me. Do you know why?"

"Why?" He breathes out. 

"Because you're bored, Evan," he replies hoarsely. "And I'm the thrill you'll want to chase. There's a reason why you didn't run to your organization to resolve the mystery of the murders, and it's because you want the mess. You want chaos. You like it. You chase it like an addict, don't you?" 

"I'm not sure you're any of this," he challenges him. 

"You'll see I am." Barty takes a step back, letting go of Evan's neck and putting space between them. Evan misses it. "I'll give you some excitement, don't worry about it."

Evan could protest, say Barty is wrong and that's not him. 

But he would be lying. 

Because Evan is bored, he's so fucking bored of living this life. Of Hogwarts and the people living in it. Of the same known faces and known places. Barty is already proving to be the most exciting and new thing in Evan's life after years. It's hard for someone living for so long to feel truly alive, awake when their eyes are open and emotions when your heart doesn't even beat anymore to tell you what you're feeling. But Barty is thrilling. He's something in the nothingness of Evan's life and he won't stop what could be a fun trip.

Barty is hot. He's sharp and deranged. He's a mad dog who ran from his chain and it's going to bite whoever he wants. Evan thinks he wouldn't mind a few bites. 

If he's the devil, Evan will choose to dance with him.

He can tell this secret between them won't end today. He's hoping for it, actually. 

Barty Crouch Jr has history here, he has fucked up morals and blood on his hands. Evan is curious enough to let him slip away. 

He looks at Barty quietly, his thick eyelashes, expressive eyebrows and sharp cheekbones. The blood all over his mouth, the splashes on his forehead and the small curve on his lips that makes him look like he's ready to smirk. It makes Evan want to pick a brush to paint him, he would use human blood to do it. 

Evan finds himself smiling. 

"I guess I'll see you around." 

"You most definitely will," he replies.

And with a last smirk, Barty disappears, leaving Evan alone in the middle of the woods with a lifeless body to keep him company. 

Evan feels his fingertips tingling. Definitely a thrill.

♰

The bodies kept showing up and Evan kept his mouth shut. They're up to nine bodies now, and the organization it's starting to get desperate. According to James at the last meeting, the mayor is pressuring them to find out the killer as fast as they can and the police station on Hogsmeade it's getting the reports of all the missing people, still holding back the information they're all dead already. 

Barty is playing with them, Evan knows. He started a pattern, then messed up the pattern again. He set a time span between the killing and then changed again. He's not doing it to feed himself but to cause a mess, he likes the hunting and Evan suspects he chooses his victims carefully and sets a relationship with them days before he kills them, offering the sweet bite of a vampire and being kind to them. Only to rip their throats at the most unexpected moment. 

No one is close to discovering who the killer is, and Evan is not going to help them to figure it out. He doesn't have a conscience to feel bad about the dead bodies, it's true, but it's not only that that keeps Evan quiet.

It's the fact that Barty clearly took notice of Evan. 

He has been following him around when Evan is alone. Especially when he's in the woods by himself. He's never around when Evan is accompanied, but when he's alone he can feel it, the uncomfortable pin of a stare on his back, the weight of Barty's attention on him. Barty is also not trying to hide his interest in Evan, he wants him to know he is, that he's watching him, that he's close, studying him and keeping it to the memory. 

Vampires are hunters, and Barty is treating Evan like prey. 

He should feel offended, Evan is also a vampire, he's not prey, but deep down Evan is thrilled by the prospect of being hunted down by Barty. He wants to allow him this small fun, to feed on his sick ways. Evan wants Barty's attention on him, he wants to drive him mad with the impulse of chasing Evan. To make him want to run after him and sink his fangs on his neck like Evan is prey. Someone for him to feed off, use it, but that deep down, could kill him in a heartbeat. 

Evan likes to play the part knowing the truth it's not that one, likes choosing to play weak knowing he's not. 

Barty knows this too, yet, he can't keep himself from being hooked on Evan. 

He's not even doing anything much. Evan goes normally about his days. Goes to the Meadowes' manor, to Grimmauld Place, has his walk down Hogsmeade, feeds from his favorite sources and walks through the woods surrounding his house. He can feel Barty's presence following him around, the almost nothing noise he makes, the soft ruffle of leaves when he's stalking Evan through the woods, wanting to attack but holding back.

He's not sure what he's waiting for. If he wants Evan to be the perfect prey or lose his patience and acknowledge him. But Evan is not in a rush. He could dance this little waltz with Barty for months and not get tired of it. 

Barty doesn't follow him to the Meadowes' manor though, Evan is sure he's trying to keep his distance from old friends for reasons Evan doesn't know. Dorcas and Regulus never talk about Barty, but the painting of the three of them is still in Regulus' library, so he doesn't think things ended on bad terms. 

It's raining strongly outside, the fainting noise of thunder shaking the windows with its force. Dorcas is cooking somewhere in the kitchen and Evan can hear her humming softly a French song, Vampires don't need food, but they also don't mind the taste and Dorcas likes the act of cooking even if she's not going to eat it. 

Evan is with Pandora in the low lighted room where she keeps her snakes, a serpentarium only for her amusement. She has about ten snakes on tanks she takes care of religiously, all with celtic gods' names. The more rare and venomous her snakes are, the better for her. 

"They found a new body today in the Forbidden Forest," she comments, taking a squeaky little rat out of a glass box. "Lily is quite distressed about it. It seems the Forest it's getting their magic fuzzy, the rain won't stop until things are balanced again." 

"Already another one? They killed one yesterday." Barty's pattern is not having one, but he's getting quite sloppy with the amount of people he's killing in so little time. It's been almost a month since the killing started, one week since Evan learned his identity, and he's pushing to ten kills already. 

"If this was a true psychopath, this would indicate a breaking point," she comments, opening one of the tanks and giving the rat to one of her snakes, a very bright green thing she named Cernunnos. The snake devours the rat in one single swallow and Pandora pets its scales. "But by this point I think they're playing with us, don't you? It's almost mockingly." She closes the tank and goes to the next one, where a black mamba named Morrigan is. Pandora grabs the snake with delicacy, letting the snake roll itself around her arm. 

"What do you think about it?" He asks, watching his sister walking to the rat rank again. The snake keeps moving slowly, seeming to be tightening itself on Pandora's arm. "The killing, I mean. Regulus thinks it's a bother and Dorcas doesn't really care about any of it. But what do you think?" 

Pandora takes her time to answer, grabbing a rat with her other hand while Morrigan escalates her arm, crawling to her shoulder. She grabs the snake's head with speed, trapping it gently in her hand. The snake's mouth opens, like it's ready to bite Pandora. It's almost hypnotizing, to watch Pandora so in tune with the snake's intentions, like they can communicate. She puts the snake back to its tank, sucking at her hand because apparently she got bit. Evan knows Morrigan it's extremely venomous, but it doesn't affect Pandora or her dead immune system. 

"I'm not particularly invested in it," she ends up answering, putting the rat on the tank with the snake, right to its imminent death. "It's just instinct, isn't it? Like this," she watches the snake eating the little rat. "The strongest feed from the weakest. It's nature, we're made to feed from the ones beneath us."

"But we have conscience, animals don't," he points out, also watching the scene in the tank. The rat didn't have a single chance, one bite and it was already lost. 

"That we do, but we hardly don't kill because of conscience. We don't do it because of rules, because we don't want to draw attention. We killed before and we will keep killing, conscience was never a problem." 

"Yet, we learned how to stop it."

"We did, but it's more than that, isn't it? We learn how to refuse our instincts and never be satisfied. Our nature it's more than just feeding from blood, it's hunting, choosing a prey and killing it. That's our true nature." She looks down at the snake again, now full with the rat it'll be digesting. "Snakes don't feed by eating any animal, they choose their prey, they strike, they kill. Humans don't have this urge anymore because society changed, but we do. We're predators with social skills, we were turned into this, not born into it." 

He remembers Barty's words, about how humans chase the thrill and he simply follows his true nature by taking their lives. Pandora is right as much as Barty was, it's instinctive, this need inside of them to hunt, and they feel good about hunting their prey. It's so good that you can get addicted to it. It's not only about feeding simply because you need to, it's about the fear you can cause, the addictive taste of their fear and the lovely sound of their heartbeats getting quicker with the dread of being hunted. 

Humans are not animals to them. They have minds and thoughts, consciousness animals won't ever be able to have. Yet, they're still prey, and vampires like to stalk theirs. 

It's the mix of what they were, the humans who were born into society and met enough humans to know how society works, and the mix of what they were turned into. Apex predators who like the thrill of the kill. 

They needed to learn control, but their true selves were a mix of beast and human. 

"Do you think the clans are wrong? For telling us we can't kill?"

"I think the idea is good, but it lacks freedom, doesn't it?" She asks rhetorically, walking to the next tank. "We follow it because we're made to follow traditions and rules, even after so long. But it's not really freedom. It's not our choice but a rule, one all of us break from time to time. Killing it's good to us, we can't change that, but by not killing we're safe. We're in control. We need order because without it, this town would become a graveyard and we would get addicted to it. It's a blessing in disguise." 

Without rules, they wouldn't be much better than Barty. They would be killing every person in Hogwarts and chaos would be ensured. It would draw attention and then what? Then it wouldn't be safe. 

Evan killed before, he hunted before, and he doesn't see humans more than what they really are,— food. But he wants safety, killing is not only about the act, it's the aftermath as well, the want of doing it again, hiding the body, making sure it won't draw attention, and when you eventually need to do it again, you need to go somewhere else so it doesn't get linked to the last one. It's too much work for a few minutes of freedom. So he sticks to rules because they're easier. 

Barty might preach about freedom, but his freedom it's reckless and unnecessary. He does it for the power and to fill the void inside of him, the one all of them have after living for so long, he does it because he didn't find anything else to distract himself from the desire of killing. 

"So you do agree we needed it."

"Oh, Evan," she sighs, lifting her head and staring at him. Her pale eyes are a creepy contradiction with her brown skin. "Didn't we learn this a long time ago? Without control, we're lost. Freedom is a myth, even for us. No one is truly free."

Evan thinks about Barty. Banned from his clan, isolated from his friends, probably alone in the world, and he wonders if this is freedom. If killing, loneliness and blood are the keys to be free, or if deep down, Barty was never free despite his own luxuries. 

"Not even the killer?" 

She smiles at him, wisely and weirdly. "If they're here of all places, choosing to kill and make a spectacle out of it, then I'm sure they're not free. They might be free to do as they please, but that's not exactly full freedom." 

"What is it, then?" 

"I guess we'll never know," she shrugs, going back to the trapped snake in front of her, Rhiannon, Evan thinks. "But that's the thing people don't usually understand."

"What?" He asks. 

"Being trapped it's not the worst thing in the world," she says softly. "With the right motivations, freedom it's so stupid."

He thinks about Regulus, who never left Hogwarts for a long time because he always had his sister here, always had James even if he will claim he doesn't need him. He thinks about Dorcas, trapped in this city because of Lily, and Lily, trapped here because the Forest is all she'll ever need. He thinks about Pandora coming to find both of them, and about Evan staying for peace of mind and Pandora herself. 

Freedom it's refreshing, it makes you think you're alive, but it gets old as everything about immortality eventually gets. Barty might think he's free, but just the fact he's back because of old ghosts proves Evan that he's not. 

Maybe Pandora is right, maybe no one is truly free. 

Evan doesn't think he cares about freedom much, with the right thrill, he wouldn't mind being trapped. 

♰

It's already late when Evan gets outside to have a walk into the woods. It's a full moon, so the wolves are howling from a distance, deep into the Forbidden Forest, the sound calms Evan a bit. It stopped raining a few days ago, but the soil it's still muddied from the heavy storm they faced for a whole week before it finally stopped. 

Evan is guiding himself by the stars, knowing how to walk through these trees with eyes closed. It takes a few minutes, but he eventually hears the fainting noise of Barty's light footsteps close to him. 

He pauses, inclining his head to hear better, thinking he's not that close, probably observing from afar. Evan finds himself smiling. Barty is committed to his part, Evan will give him that. He wonders if instinct took control of him already, if by this point he gets restless if he doesn't follow Evan around. 

He thinks it's biological, this part of them. If they start the process of hunting, they can't really stop it that easily without killing it. What's normally forgotten about being a vampire it's that you just don't simply die and come back thirsting for blood, you see the world differently, you lose a part of your humanity and your senses change without your permission. It's hard for most vampires to go back to acting and thinking closely to humans, and sometimes it can take years. 

Evan decides he'll play with Barty a little today. He has been a good boy, hasn't killed a single soul for over a week and a half, and Evan thinks he might be bored. If the only thing keeping Barty entertained was his killing, Evan wants to be the new entertainment for the night. 

He quickens his pace, jumping on top of a small hill in the woods, hearing Barty also quickening his own movements, trying to not lose Evan between the trees.  

When Barty gets close enough, Evan starts running, feeling the cold wind in his face ruffling his curls and hearing the noise of wolves howling and crickets singing. 

Barty follows him with the same speed. 

They're a blurred, quick and fast thing. 

Evan sidesteps every tree, dodging between them and making Barty's work harder. He knows they're playing catch and mouse and that Barty is probably all instinct now. He might have been rational all these past weeks, but not now. Not when Evan forced him to run after him. By doing that, Evan made Barty be more animal than person, with only the echoing thought that he needs to catch Evan, to hunt him and eliminate his prey. 

It's nature as itself. When the vampire's mind shuts down leaving only the pulsating need to hunt, use your speed to catch them on the move, tackle them to the ground and snap their necks. It's so easy to forget about this part of themselves, they get so used to being civilized about their own nature they forget this can also be them. 

Evan never was the one being hunted down, but he realizes he enjoys it. He likes the thrill of being chased in the woods, of knowing Barty is running to catch him and that his instincts are probably telling him he needs to kill Evan. Fight with him and force dominance. That, though Evan is not food, he's prey nonetheless. That he can't bite Evan, but he can overpower him. And Evan likes to know he can fight back, fully and completely. That Barty might be a predator but so is Evan. That anything Barty can do, Evan also can.

That he might be the monster to a lot of people, was a monster to all of his victims who died without being able to defend themselves, but that to Evan he's none of it. That to Evan, he's just a beautiful thing he wants to play with.

He wants to taste Barty's limits. Force his hand only so he can overpower him. Win him at his own game. 

Evan slows his pace just a millisecond, a tiny little thing, but it's enough for Barty to get closer and finally catch him. 

He feels the strong grip on his arm, and then he's being thrown violently to the trunk of a tree, hitting so strongly he can hear the crack in the wood. Evan smiles, stopping Barty when he gets close again, pushing him to the ground. It's too fast, too rough, if Evan wasn't a vampire he would be dead already. 

They roll around the dirty soil, and Barty growls at him, low and deadly. A predator ready to strike, ready to kill. But he's not killing Evan today, he's not striking either. 

Evan laughs loudly, hitting his back and head at the ground and being held down by Barty's hands on his wrists. Barty's eyes are wide, almost entirely pitch black, the only sign that he's drunk on adrenaline. He doesn't have a heart beating fast or a pulse to tell on him, but he has his eyes. 

He also has something else. A hard, big bulge on his pants. 

Hunting doesn't only offer a thrill of adrenaline, but arousal as well. It's when they're the most primal and true selves. Hunting it's the closest thing they have to taking a hit from any drug, it's the only thing that can make them more alive. It's why you can easily get addicted to it. 

Evan smiles smugly at him, like he won and not like he's under Barty, overpowered and with a dangerous, hungry on adrenaline vampire holding him down with a strong grip. Barty is terrifying, Evan can see that from this angle, but Evan is not scared. He's euphoric, yes, but not scared.

Barty Crouch Jr was right, Evan was really fucking boring, but now? Now he's feeling alive. 

"You caught me," he tells him. 

"You made me chase you," he says in a husky and dangerous tone. The tone of a killer thriving for blood. 

"You've been stalking me for weeks now," he shrugs the best he can in this position. Evan likes the weight of Barty on top of him. "You wanted to chase me." 

"You like playing a dangerous game, don't you, dorogoy?" He asks him. "Doing such a good job at pretending to be prey."

"You don't think I'm prey, love?" He blinks at him, wetting his lower lip and staring at Barty. The moonlight around his head makes a halo around him, shining on his dark hair and accentuating his face. Such a beautiful, heavenly sight. 

"You are far from being prey," he spits out in a hushed tone, bringing his face down a little to stare directly at Evan. "You're a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Not a sweet, sacrificial lamb?" He grins. 

Barty stares at him like he's in trance, completely bewitched by Evan, laid on the ground only for his amusement, because he knew Barty is a hunter and offered him a thrilling chase. 

"No," he wets his lower lip, eyes locked on Evan's face. "A dangerous, venomous snake." 

"You're safe from my poison," he tells him like it's a secret. "You got me, sweetheart. I'm caught. What do you want to do with me?" 

He hopes Barty wants him more than just someone he wanted to hunt. Hopes Barty wants to use Evan to fix his clear arousal to the situation, get rid of the desire of fucking like an animal without restraint. He can't kill Evan, but he can fuck him. Evan wants him to. 

"I want to kill you," he says very quietly, loosening one of his hands from Evan's wrist to rub his thumb on Evan's lower lip. "My body is begging me to."

"But you won't," he hums, buckling his hips up, rubbing his length on Barty's ass. 

"I want to bite you," he growls, now opening his mouth slightly. "Taste you on my tongue."

"You can't," he breathes out, rolling his hips up again, seeking for friction. Vampires can't feed from other vampires, not because it tastes bad but quite the opposite. It's the only drug effective for vampires. Something stronger and deadlier than hunting. You get really high on it but it's said it's so good you get addicted to it very quickly. It's dangerous to drink from a vampire, it's forbidden in all clans. It's suicide to try it. 

Hunting it's allowed, it's nature and it's in their system, but not vampire blood. Vampire blood it's a sweet poison for other vampires, and therefore a huge taboo.

"I want to rip you apart."

"Do it," he says almost in a moan, biting the tip of Barty's thumb. 

"Are you going to fight against it or take it like a good little lamb, darling?" He asks, bending his body so his face it's hovering against Evan's. 

"I'm not prey," he repeats. 

"Mhm," he hums, rolling his hips so his ass grinds on Evan's hard cock. He goes to kiss Evan's neck, and he can feel the tip of Barty's fangs on the side of his throat. Evan is scared of Barty sinking in, but a part of him kind of wants him to do it. Wants Barty to become addicted to him. Wants the forbidden act so it can be their secret. 

Evan fights against the hold on his wrist, punching Barty's stomach with his free hand. He could take it without a fight, Evan would be so obedient for Barty, so good. But he thinks Barty wouldn't want that, he wants to feel like the big bad wolf, taking it after a fight to feel like he won something and the more Evan fights, the more his instincts will tell him he needs to win to assert dominance. 

It's a push and pull between the both of them, Barty scratches his wrist deeply, holding the arm who was free again, and Evan headbutts him. Barty groans, letting go of Evan's wrists but just enough to find a better way to grab him, holding Evan by the neck strongly with one hand and both of his wrists with the other, nails sinking in. 

"You're feisty," he comments. "I like it." Evan's briefs are tight already. "You can fight me, baby, I'll even like it. But I'll make you take me eventually. Hard and painful." 

Evan punches him on the stomach as hard as he can again, and this time it's so strong Barty loses his balance, falling at high speed with his back to the ground. Evan gets on top of him, pulling at his hair with a vicious smirk on his lips. 

"You're all talk so far," he taunts him. Barty on top of him it's a good vision, but Barty under him? Evan thinks this is heaven. "Maybe you're only scary when you're killing weak humans." 

Barty starts to grin at him, slowly opening his lips until he's holding a maniacal expression on his face. Without a warning, Barty tackles Evan to the floor again, but this time with his stomach to the ground. 

Barty was being strong before, but now he's not holding back anymore, and Evan can't shake him off like this, with the lack of space. 

Before Evan knows what's happening, Barty is ripping his trousers from behind, the sound of fabric tearing resounding through the quietness of the woods. He wiggles under him, but Barty holds him down with brute force, and though Evan is as strong as he is, he can't escape the hand keeping him down by pushing his back to the ground. 

"We don't have lube," Barty comments, a matter of fact. "So your blood will do."

Evan snarls, trying to elbow Barty out of him, but it doesn't work. By this point, he doesn't even want him to stop, he just wants the violence. The fight. 

Barty cuts him with one of his rings, a long cut on his back, and Evan feels the cold blood overflowing off of him and slicking his back, it stings a bit, but it quickly starts healing again. Barty doesn't let it, opening his skin again and again until he's content with the amount of blood he got. Evan tries to fight against him through it, but he realizes that, for the first time in his life, he's truly helpless. 

The urge to fuck it's basically instinctive to Barty now, and he won't let Evan go away until he's finished with him. 

He should hate it. He doesn't. 

Evan secretly likes it, to be held down, cut and treated just like a hole Barty needs to release his load in it. To be the person fighting against it but that will take it in the end. It's sick and twisted, but Evan never claimed to be right on the mind. 

He held the power for a really long time, being powerless makes him let go of control and it's good. 

Too quickly, Barty's trousers are open and his cock it's lubed with Evan's blood. 

"You know what I thought when I was following you around these woods?" He asks him with a tight voice, controlling himself to not snap Evan in the half. "I thought about this moment. You, under me, ready to take my cock." 

"I thought you were thinking about hunting me," he groans when Barty's fingers find their way to his hole. Cold and warm at the same time, not being gentle or slow. 

"I did hunt you, Evan darling," he says. "And now I caught you, so you're mine." 

The wet sound of Evan's blood entering his walls it's obscene, and he moans when Barty coates his hole, making Evan rut against the ground under him, the front of his trousers still in place, since Barty only ripped the back. It's dirty and rough, but Evan is drunk on it. 

"Tell me how much you actually want me," Barty tells him. "Tell me how you knew I would have you like this when you started to run from me and you wanted it. Tell me this tight ass of yours is eager to get fucked by me, dorogoy."

"Go fuck yourself," Evan breathes out between a moan. 

"I will fuck the words out of your mouth," he laughs darkly. "And you'll enjoy."

Evan has a single moment to blink, and in the next beat, Barty is pushing all of his length inside of Evan, thrusting hard and merciless inside of him, sliding smoothly with the amount of Evan's blood he managed to draw. A drawn gasp escapes his mouth and his hands close into tight fists, wanting to grab something but with nothing other than soil to grab. 

He holds Evan down by a hard grip on his nape, forcing his cheek to dig into the dirty soil. Barty takes out almost all of his length off Evan before he slams inside of him again, making Evan's body move with the force of his thrust and being forced to adjust to his thick, big size. 

"Is this what you wanted, darling?" He asks Evan huskily, lowering his upper body to whisper right to his ear, thrusting inside of him again and again. "Getting fucked by me in the middle of the woods like the freak you are? Are you still bored, Evan?" 

"Fuck," he chokes out, wanting to move but not being able to. Evan moans helplessly with Barty's hard and fast thrusts, feeling like his body is being torn apart and pulled back together by Barty's cock. He's not prey, but he feels like a banquet only for Barty right now. Something for him to take and take without caring about returning, at least not whole. 

He fears for a single moment that this was a huge mistake, because the way Barty is fucking him it's not impersonal or primal. It's an ownership ritual. He's fucking Evan like he's already his. 

And to be a possession for Barty is much worse than being his prey. 

He tried to play with the devil but forgot the devil doesn't play by the rules. 

"Barty," he cries out, rolling his hips for more friction, to finish this before Evan gets lost in it. 

"Shh, dorogoy," Barty says hushedly, almost sickenly. He licks the side of Evan's throat, going up until his ear, thrusting inside of him so strongly Evan fears he will break his hip bones. "I bet you'd taste so sweet. Did you know vampire blood has its own taste? Something sour and yet so addictive." 

"No," Evan pants out. "You can't—"

"But what would you do if I did it? Mhmm?" Barty taunts him. "You're taking my cock so well, so tight and warm for me, clenching desperately like you want to swallow me whole. I bet you don't have any strength left in you. If I bite you, you'd take it, and I promise you'd love it, darling." 

"Barty," he's meant to say it in a warning tone, but it gets out like a moan. 

"I caught you, Evan," he repeats, hotly in his ear, his thrusts mercilessly and almost possessively. "Now you're my prize and I'll do what I want with you," he snarls, nose rubbing on his jaw. 

Evan feels like he lost the game. Barty is holding all the power and as sick as it is, he thinks he'll take whatever Barty shoves at him.

Barty is a merciless killer, he's cruel and apathetic, and for some reason, he got his eyes trained on Evan. And Evan was stupid enough to allow it, to get hooked on his game thinking he could play on the same field as Barty. But he was wrong. So fucking wrong. Because when Barty holds him down, fucking him from behind with Evan's own blood and tongue licking at his skin, he does feels like prey. Not the kind Barty will kill it after he's finished, but the kind he'll trap and keep it. 

"And you'll take it," he whispers at him, pulling at his hair so Evan's head it's lifted. "Because you'll like every second of it." 

Barty twists his head by the grip on his hair in an almost uncomfortable manner, and without waiting for the green light, he's kissing Evan. It's not sweet or kind, it's twisted, messy and wet. Barty shoves his tongue in and Evan bites it with a moan in the back of his throat, feeling the fainting taste of copper in his mouth from Barty's tongue. Barty groans in his mouth, fastening his pace so quickly it burns Evan's walls. The sound of their skins clashing it's loud and shameless, mixed with Barty's low grunts and Evan's drawn moans, and he likes it. Hates it. Wants more of it. 

Evan feels the tip of Barty's fangs on his lower lip, scraping the sensitive skin and tearing it apart a bit, coating Evan's lower lip with small drops of his own blood. Blood Barty licks it with hunger. 

He feels the heat on his lower stomach, feels the pulsating need on his cock begging for release, wanting to be touched, to cum. Evan is desperate for something, desperate for Barty. He rolls his hips to seek more friction, to make Barty's thrusts go deeper and deeper, moaning in frustration because he wants more. 

And it's frightening to recognize he's so lost in Barty already that Evan has the desire to have more of him. 

"I know, darling," Barty whispers against his lips, and now that Evan can see his face a little, he can see how dark Barty's eyes are, not a single white of his globes in sight. He's completely dominated by this, by the desire to release. The desire he has taken on Evan. "You want to cum, don't you?" 

Evan nods, tasting his own blood on his tongue. "Touch me."

Barty grins, deadly and scary, but so beautiful it pains Evan to look at him. With a strong movement, Barty finishes ripping the rest of Evan's trousers, getting completely rid of them, lifting Evan's waist with one hand like he weighs nothing. With the other hand still dirty with Evan's now dried blood, he touches Evan's cock and he almost cries in relief. 

He squeezes Evan's length, thumb rubbing the slit at a pace different from his thrusts, Evan chokes a moan, thrusting on Barty's hand to feel the sweet bliss. Barty hits his prostate and strokes firmly at his dick and Evan sobs, he keeps doing it, hard, roughly and firmly, and Evan shakes. He shakes because it's too good, because he can feel it all over his body together with the weight of Barty over him. His eyes roll back and with a small scream he cums in the middle of the woods, in Barty's hand. 

Barty lets go of his cock as fast as he touched it, and Evan can hear him licking his fingers to clean off Evan. He fastens his thrusts, so fast Evan needs to hold himself with hands on the muddied ground, and with a moan mixed with a primal growl, Barty comes inside of Evan. He keeps thrusting while he deposits his release inside of him, not stopping until he's dry again. 

If Evan could get tired, he thinks he would be panting, and if he was a human, he knows Barty would've killed him with the strength he was holding Evan and fucking just the same. He wasn't trying to hold back. 

Evan feels Barty's cum running down from his hole and he gets on all fours, waiting for his body to get back to normal and forget all about Barty's abuse. His hands are dirty with mud as well as his nails, there's dried blood on his back, on his hole and thighs. There's blood on his hair, on his neck and lips. Barty made a mess, and yet, Evan thinks he needs to thank him for not causing more of it. Evan thinks that Barty could do much worse than that. 

Barty gets up in a blink, and Evan sits on his ankles, staring down at his ripped trousers and briefs, also dirty with mud and blood. 

He feels Barty's stare on him and looks up, realizing his eyes are back to normal again. He doesn't look like an apex predator anymore, he looks almost detached, like Evan is nothing but a playground he got bored of. It makes him uneasy and disappointed. 

Barty doesn't seem like the type who does the after care, but now that it's over, Evan just feels used. He was liking being used when they're fucking, but now that it's over and Barty is looking at him emptily, he doesn't like it that much. 

"I guess I'll see you again," Barty says quietly, fastening the belt of his trousers. 

Evan gets angry then. He gets pissed very quickly. He let Barty stalk him, chase him, fuck him. And now he's treating him like nothing. Like Evan didn't get under his skin and that bothers him. 

He opens his mouth to say something, to argue, to call Barty an asshole, but it's already too late. Because Barty is already gone.

He leaves Evan alone with dried cum and blood in the middle of the woods, and Evan wants to kill him but have him all over again. 

He was never this defeated his whole life. 

♰

Pandora sometimes wants to do things she normally wouldn't. Today, she knocked on the Rosier manor and told Evan they should go to the church, so that's what they did. 

Evan is not a religious person, he thinks he can understand why people would seek salvation in God, but that was never him. Neither was Pandora, but Pandora's reasons are something only she can understand. He sits quietly by her side, the rosary in her hand while she listens attentively to everything the priest is saying. The scent of the incense it's strong on Evan's nose, and the big cross behind the priest in the alter is distracting him from what he's saying. The candles burn even if it's day, and the voice of the priest it's soothing and comforting. 

Evan is lost in the stained glass of one of Jesus' disciples, he thinks, with droplets of water running down because of the light rain outside. But suddenly his body gets on alert, skin pricking like it's warning Evan of something, and he can feel it. Him. Somewhere in the back, with eyes focused on Evan. 

Barty. 

It has been one week since their encounter in the woods and all Evan got from him was nothing. He didn't stalk Evan again, didn't follow him around or searched for him to repeat it. He killed one more person in this period, and Evan was so mad at the whole thing he almost told the organization everything about him. Yet, no matter how pissed Evan was, a part of him held back Barty's secret. He didn't deserve it, Evan knows that, Barty deserves what's coming for him eventually, but Evan couldn't betray him that way, even if Barty doesn't want or deserve Evan's loyalty. 

He just couldn't get it. Barty spent weeks following Evan, he touched him, he hunted him, and now that he got him he got bored? Evan is not good enough anymore? He felt used and discarded, and that's not something Evan feels frequently. He knows people who would break their backs to have him, and Evan laid himself bare to Barty in the middle of a forest, he indulged him on his madness. And for what? For Barty to pretend he doesn't exist anymore.

Evan is so mad that he's here that he almost gets up to leave. But he fights against it because Barty doesn't deserve a reaction. He deserves the same thing he offered Evan, which was nothing. 

He'll pretend Barty was nothing as well. That he didn't shake Evan's ground and that he didn't think about him at all, even if it was all he did. He'll pretend he thought so little of Barty, he doesn't even remember what really happened between them in the quiet of the night.

Evan refuses to give him a reaction, to let him know that Evan cared and that he was offended and mad at him for the way he treated him. 

So he pretends he doesn't know Barty is somewhere in this church, hearing about Christ and staring at the cross just as Evan. He pretends Barty doesn't affect him at all, because the alternative that he does it's a disaster Evan doesn't want to think about. Evan should pray to God, to help him get rid of the temptation of having Barty again. To help him wash him away from his thoughts. 

He doesn't. 

Through the whole mass, Evan feels Barty's presence everywhere. He doesn't even know why it affects him so much, to have him so close, or how he can just feel Barty so easily in the middle of the people, he just does. Like a self awareness Evan can't shake it off. If Barty is close, Evan can immediately feel him. 

When it ends, the people start getting up, others go to talk to the priest about their problems and sorrows, Evan stands wanting to go away.

"Wait," Pandora stops him by holding his wrist, her voice soft and quiet. "I need to talk to the priest."

"You?" He asks amusedly. "Why are you pretending to be religious, Dora?" 

"It's not about that," she shakes her head. "It's about the missing people," the dead people. 

"Fine," he ends up nodding. "I will wait for you upstairs, yeah?" 

The small church has an upper floor, where the choir usually stays but that has seats when they're not present. It's less crowded and it allows Evan the chance of observing. 

He sits in the front, observing the priest talking gently to the christians, Evan could even hear their conversation, but he's not interested in other's confessions. 

It's when he's completely alone that he feels it, his presence again, paying attention to Evan and coming closer silently. 

He's excited about it the same way he's speechless about Barty's nerve. 

"Then God said," his voice says behind Evan, "Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness. So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them." 

"I didn't take you as a catholic," Evan comments, still observing what's happening close to the altar, he watches Pandora talking with one of the girls that work at the small cafe in Hogsmeade. 

"I'm not," he replies. "I was orthodox once,  a long time ago."

"Why are you here, then?" He asks, wanting to hear it's for him. 

"I like it," he says. "The church it's not the worst place in the world, you need to know how to enjoy it. Why are you here? I never saw you around." So Barty has been here more than once. 

"My sister wanted to come." 

"Ah," he mutters. "She's a seer, your sister."

"She is," he confirms. Most people don't know, but those who have been alive long enough know about seers, about their pale and disturbing eyes. 

"Is she religious?" He asks, almost curiously. 

"She's not," he replies. "I'm not sure why she wanted to come here." Evan wonders if Pandora saw Barty beforehand and this was a trap. He wouldn't put it past her. "We were never religious people. What about you?" 

He doesn't want to be curious about Barty, he doesn't want to think about him anymore, yet it's all he does. Maybe it wasn't Barty who could get addicted but Evan all along. Barty makes him weak. 

"My mom was very religious," he ends up saying, finally sitting beside Evan. They don't touch, but Evan can feel him everywhere. And as absurd as it sounds, he doesn't think God is the most strong entity in this church. God never made Evan feel like Barty does just by sitting close to him. "She made me go to church since I was little."

"You knew your mom?" He asks, surprised. 

It's common that their biological moms die at giving birth, it's brutal, in Evan's opinion. Vampires get them pregnant and they need to gestate a baby who grows too fast, causes too much pain and probably will kill them in the birth. The labor it's gruesome and painful, and it's very rare for them to survive. Sometimes, like in the Potter's case, they transform the mother into a vampire when the child it's out and the progenitor it's between life and death, he knows James' mom wasn't a vampire until he was born, and his dad turned her after that. But it's mostly common for them to be born without mothers already, Evan and Pandora never knew about theirs. 

It's probably ego, to have biological children even if you're immortal and shouldn't, and sometimes the parents don't even turn their kids into vampires after they're grown enough, but it was a tradition, back in Evan' father time, to keep the lineage of ancient vampire families alive and increase their sizes. The Blacks were the most known to do that, except it was worse with them because it involved tons of incest, like birthing children and getting the women pregnant before turning them in. It was gross, and thankfully it's not a practice they follow anymore. It's not forbidden, but it's immoral and badly perceived. 

"Yes."

"She was turned after she gave birth?" 

"No," he denies. "She survived."

"That's—" he pauses, speechless. "That's uncommon."

"Uncommon but not impossible," he hums. "She kept me, so I grew up with her. I went to church every week, she used to say that God would wash away my father's bits," he chuckles bitterly. "I wanted to become a priest."

"A priest?" Evan asks, shocked. The Barty who fucked him without compassion in the woods could never be a priest, but Barty is telling him a story from centuries ago. A time so far it seems like it happened in another life. 

"Yes," he replies, amused with Evan's reaction. "I didn't want to turn into a vampire. I wanted to stay with mom, to be human and a priest," he laughs like even he can see how absurd he sounded. "My father didn't like that, he came for me when I was eighteen and wanted to turn me in. I said no, so one day when I came back home he was holding mom hostage. He killed her in front of me, ripped her heart out," he tells him, so emptily it's scary. "Then, in the middle of my despair and pain, he turned me in."

"He killed her?" He asks in a whisper. Even if it was centuries ago, Barty's father is still alive. "And you never killed him?"

"I was lost and grieving," he replies, now turning his head to stare at Evan. With light, his eyes are a beautiful, dark shade of blue. Like the mysterious and dangerous bottom of the ocean. "Life would never be the same to me and he was offering me a hand."

He pictures Barty, eons ago, alone and grieving, watching his mom dying, again and again, every time he closed his eyes after he was lucky enough to meet her, knowing the only person he had, the only person who could teach him how to control the hunger and the beast, was the same man that killed her. His father. 

Evan knows time washes away everything, but not this. He has no idea why Barty didn't kill his father yet, Evan would've done it a long time ago. 

"Time makes you forget some things so easily," Barty says quietly. "But others stick to you like gum." 

"I'm sorry about your mom," Evan tells him, meaning it. He doesn't often empathize with other's pain, but he does with Barty. 

"Don't be. It was a long time ago," he dismisses Evan's words easily, going back to stare at the altar. 

"Do you still believe in God?" He asks. 

"I do," he confirms. "I don't think he will save me and I do think he's cruel for allowing us to exist for so long. But it calms me, to acknowledge his existence," he confesses. "Churches are the only place I can think about him without bitterness, it's the closest thing to God we have and it reminds me that, even if I'm trapped in this life, there are bigger things than eternity." 

Evan wonders how this can exist, how this antithesis can exist inside of someone like Barty. How he can believe in God after so long, how he can still worship quietly something he could consider cruel. 

"How so?" Evan was never religious, he never believed in an entity strong enough to be bigger than life, so he doesn't get how after all this time, Barty can still have faith. Not that he'll be saved, but that there's something out there who can make him belong. 

"Here it's where you can feel God," he explains, looking at the altar. "The rituals and the followers. The priest's words. I feel quite close to him here, even if I'm not a religious person anymore," he turns his head back to Evan. "Have you ever felt it?"

"God?"

"Yes."

"No," he answers quietly, staring at the big cross on the altar. "Can't say I have."

"It's heavenly," he hums. "I can show you."

"You can?" He muses with a hint of a smirk. 

Barty confuses him. He stalks Evan, chases him and fucks him. Then he dismisses him, disappears and ignores him, pretending Evan doesn't exist at all. And now he's confessing things to Evan and telling him he can show him something so abstract as the feeling of God. 

He should cut him off for good, kill the evil deed before it grows and chokes Evan with its thorns. Before Barty poisons his garden. 

"Come here at eleven tonight," he invites him. "The priest is gone by then. I'll show you the feeling of God." 

"Are you about to preach about God to me?" He asks amusedly.

"No," he smirks, shaking his head. "I'll just make you feel it." 

"How can you make someone feel God?" Evan asks him. "I don't even believe he exists." 

"You'll have to come here tonight so I can show you then," he shrugs, getting up from the seat. "I can make you a believer." 

Evan wants to say no. He wants to tell Barty he can fuck off and forget everything about him. He wants to stab him for having the nerve to come to talk to Evan after the way he left last time. But Evan is curious, and his curiosity regarding Barty is becoming a very dangerous thing. 

"I wouldn't waste my breath with it," Evan comments. 

But Barty only smiles in that condescending and smug way. "I'll see you tonight, dorogoy." 

Evan is not proud to admit he folded. 

Two minutes past eleven, he finds himself standing in front of Hogsmeade's church heavy doors. It's raining again, and though it's not strong, the heavy and dark clouds in the sky indicate a storm is coming. 

Evan pushes the door to get inside the church, the smell of incense is diluted now but it can still be inhaled in the air. The church it's dark, only illuminated by some burning candles, which is not enough to take away the creepy atmosphere surrounding the place. 

He sees Barty's silhouette immediately, standing on the altar in front of the big cross, like he's staring at it thoughtfully. 

Evan obviously didn't come here because he was waiting for a change in his relationship with God. He doesn't care about that at all, actually. The reason Evan came had everything to do with the man standing in front of him. 

"Don't you think it's beautiful?" Barty asks, voice calm and quiet. 

"It's aesthetically pleasing, I suppose," Evan comments, walking through the corridor to get to the altar. Hogsmeade's church it's a bit gothic; he thinks it has been up since the foundation of the town. It's dark, archaic but very well-built. As an artist, Evan can see how beautiful it is. 

"Come here," he calls Evan. 

Evan does, climbing the two steps that lead him to the altar. It's not much, just a marble table in the middle, two tall candlesticks on each side and the big cross behind it, with the stained glass illuminating the altar a bit with the light outside. He thinks it's the image of Jesus at the Last Supper.

He stops, not knowing what Barty wants him to see. 

"What do you feel?" He asks him, not wasting a single glance at Evan. 

"Nothing," he replies boredly. "This is how you'll make me feel God? By staring at a cross?" 

Barty says nothing, but Evan thinks he can see the tips of his lips curling up. He moves then, stopping behind Evan and reallocating him to stand right in the middle, his hands on Evan's arm make him feel more things than the image in front of him. 

He keeps staring, but Evan can feel Barty behind him, feeling very conscious about his body behind his. 

Without saying anything, Barty's fingertips find their way under the back of Evan's shirt, feeling his cold skin and making Evan shiver a bit with the contact. Barty's palms caress his skin smoothly, slipping to his waist and brushing his thumbs there. 

Evan closes his hands in fists by his sides, and his mouth opens without permission when Barty kisses the side of his neck, wet tongue peaking between his lips. 

"Do you know what makes us closer to God?" He asks him with a husky voice by his ear. "Confession." 

"Confessing my sins won't make me closer to God," Evan replies with voice raw. 

Barty didn't even touch him properly, and he's already a mess. 

"No?" He sounds amused, lifting Evan's shirt slowly. "You need to bear yourself to God so he can reach you. I'll start," he tells him. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned," he starts saying. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You have a strange way of showing it," he replies bitterly. 

"Are you mad at me, dorogoy?" He kisses behind his ear, biting his earlobe and sucking it. Evan feels a slight twitch in his briefs. 

"I barely think about you," he spits out.

"Evan," he says his name like he's fucking the words. "We're confessing our sins now. Lying is a sin, darling. Didn't you know that?" 

"You're confessing, not me," he fights back, holding back a moan when Barty bites him. Not with his fangs and not with the intention of breaking his skin, but still a bite. 

Barty rips his shirt out of his body in a single try, and Evan gets pissed at him for ripping his clothes like a fucking animal. "You'll be confessing pretty soon."

"I won't."

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned," he repeats, kissing Evan's shoulders. His hands start moving again, exploring the expansion of Evan's torso. "I killed again. I'm still addicted to vengeance." 

His fingers brush Evan's nipples and he lets a small noise escape from his lips, getting harder and harder the more Barty's lips kiss his skin, his hands touch him and his voice rasps close to his ear. 

"I have blood on my hands and I enjoy it," he goes on. "Why don't you try it now, dorogoy?" 

"No," he breathes out, fighting a moan when Barty pinches his nipples. 

"It won't work if you're not committed to it," he shares with him like it's a secret. "Come on, baby."

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned," he eventually says through gritted teeth. Evan tries to think about what he should confess. "I had  been consumed by anger." 

"Why is that, dorogoy?" Barty asks, almost too smugly. 

"That's for God to know, not you," he snaps, Barty grips his waist in response, so hard he can feel his strength cracking his bones. Evan grunts in pain, knowing it will heal in a second but still feeling it. 

"Why Evan?"

"Because of you," he spits out. "You left me there and you disappeared. And now what? You show up again just because you can and think that's enough."

"Did I hurt your pride, dorogoy?"

"Yes!" He snaps. 

"That's another sin," he says easily. Not apologizing or offering an explanation. 

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned," he says tauntingly. "I thought about murder." 

"Oh?" He sounds amused. "You wanted to kill me, Evan?" 

"I still want to," he confesses. 

Barty tsks. "I didn't know you were so touchy, dorogoy. I apologize." 

"You're lying," he accuses him. "You're not sorry. Lying it's a sin." 

"You're right, I can admit that," he mutters  "I was busy, my darling. I had people to kill, I couldn't get distracted with thoughts about fucking you, could I?" 

"For a whole week?"

"I could've been a little more present," he confesses. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Swear on God."

"I swear on God," he repeats, "That I will make it up to you."

Barty nudges him to walk a few steps, loosening Evan's hands and putting them open on the marble table. 

"Do you have something else to confess, dorogoy?" 

"Yes," he breathes out.

"What?" 

"I couldn't stop lusting after you," he confesses, feeling Barty's fingertips playing with the waistband of his trousers. 

"Oh, baby," he says softly. "God will forgive you for that." Barty unbuttons his trousers, letting Evan stand at the church altar in only black boxers. "Do you know how to pray, Evan?" 

"Yes," he whispers, feeling a sick thrill of excitement. 

"Two hail Mary and three our father," he orders him, before getting on his knees behind Evan. "And, Evan darling?" 

"Yes?" He asks in a hush, looking behind his shoulder to stare at Barty kneeling at the altar floor. 

"Arch your back for me."

Evan positions his elbows on the marble, arching his back for him. Barty slides his boxers down, and his palms strokes the silk skin of his ass, grabbing his ass cheeks with strength. 

"Where are your prayers?" He asks him. 

Evan swallows dryly, lifting his head to stare at the cross again, with Jesus' sorrowed face staring right at him. 

Thank god he's not religious. 

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee," he starts praying with voice hoarse. He opens his mouth to continue, but a moan escapes his lips, because Barty's tongue is entering him. Evan's legs get weak, and he rolls his hips so Barty can get deeper. He stops him with a slap across his ass, so strongly Evan is sent forward by the brutality of it. 

"Go on," he orders. 

"— Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus," he goes on, voice wavering more than seconds ago. "Holy Mary," he moans again, pitched and brokenly, when Barty goes deeper. "Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death," his cock it's hard and throbbing on his stomach, leaking precum already. "Amen." 

"You did so well, darling," Barty hums, licking his hole again. "Pray one more for me." 

And Evan does, he does it and Barty doesn't stop. He keeps eating him out, and the only noises in the church are Evan's prayers, moans and cries all mixed together. It's the noise of the rain outside with Barty's wet sounds. 

When Evan says his amen again, Barty stops, and he can feel how wet his hole is, coated in saliva. Barty gets up from his knees, his covered chest glued to Evan's naked back, he kisses Evan's neck, sucking at his skin with fingers touching him, but never close to his aching dick, begging to be touched.

"Barty," he begs in a whine.

"Not yet, dorogoy," he tells him. "We still need to bring God closer, don't you think so?" 

"I don't care about bringing God closer," he says pissedly. "I want to be fucked."

"Patience," he bites his neck strongly, looking at Evan's dick from over his shoulder. "So hard already, baby. And only for me." Barty reaches out to something at the corner of the table, a silver, small and round bowl containing water. "Do you know what this is, Evan?"

"Holy water," he replies. 

"That's right," he hums, soaking his fingers with holy water and guiding them to Evan's mouth. He opens his lips for him, letting Barty's wet fingers inside his mouth. He sucks on them, mixing saliva with the water and tasting Barty on his tongue. Barty guides him by his back, lowering his torso on the cold marble and leaving only Evan's ass exposed. His cheek rests on the marble as well, and he sees Barty wetting all of his hand with the water. He gets out of Evan's sight, but he smells the scent of blood. Vampire blood. Barty's blood. "Now three our father's prayers, dorogoy." 

"Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name," he starts, and only when the prayers begin that Barty inserts a finger inside of Evan, much more gently and slowly than their first time. It's slick with holy water and Barty's blood, but it's not that that surprises Evan, it's the thin and beaded thing accompanying his finger,— a rosary. Barty is loosening him open with a fucking rosary. 

Evan is probably crazy, because his dick gets harder and twitches with the realization. 

"— Thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven," he cries out, grinding his cock on the edge of the table, desperate for a release. "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us— Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us," he closes his eyes tightly when Barty adds a second finger, opening Evan and going deeper and deeper. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen."

"Again." 

He repeats it again, completely humping against the marble and praying between broken cries. He needs something else, something bigger. He needs Barty's hands on him and his lips on his skin. 

"Amen," he whimpers out. His legs are shaking and he just wants more. Just wants to skip all of that to the part where Barty is totally fucking him.

"Again."

"Barty, please." 

"Just one more, baby," he kisses his ass cheek, brushing his fingers on his prostate and making Evan cry. He feels the wetness coming down of his eyes, blood tears. The only kind vampires can shed. Cursed tears. "You can do it."

"Our Father who art in heaven—," he begins for the third and last time. 

He manages to say the entire prayer, with bloody tears escaping from his eyes and precum dirtying his skin and the table, but still. 

When he finally says his last amen, Barty stops, taking his fingers out and fawning them close to Evan's spine. 

"I think I didn't tell you that before," he says quietly. "But you're so pretty, dorogoy. So perfect. I wasn't lying, I really couldn't stop thinking about you. How could I when you look like this?" 

Evan feels a flutter in the stomach, hot and strong. 

"Lay on the table for me, dorogoy," he tells him. 

With shaky hands and legs, Evan gets on top of the table, lying with his back on the cold marble. He feels like something to be sacrificed, like by laying here, he's allowing Barty to open him up. And maybe he would let him. Let Barty dig his fingers inside of him, touch all of his dead and decaying organs and coat his hands with his blood. 

"Oh, did you cry, baby?" He sounds almost fascinated. "You were that desperate?"

"I can't take it anymore," he says. "I need you to fuck me."

Very slowly, Barty takes his shirt off, showing Evan his tattoos. A chinese dragon on his ribcage, a dagger in his sternum and skeletons, all types of it. The orthodox cross with three points, a snake on his hip ending inside of his trousers and some phrases scattered around. Too many details for Evan to keep them all to memory. His cross necklace sits perfectly on his dagger tattoo, and Evan needs to blink twice because Barty has piercings hidden in there too, in both nipples and belly button. He's so pretty. 

Evan couldn't watch him naked the last time because they barely took any clothes off, but he's about to see all of Barty now, and so far, he's already perfect. 

"And I will," he promises him, unbuckling his belt. 

Barty lets his trousers fall, showing Evan his already wet boxers with the bulge of his cock and leg tattoos. 

He wants Barty. Now. Evan feels such a strong rush of desire for him he thinks he'll burn alive from it. 

Barty gets rid of his boxers, standing completely naked for God and Evan to see. Standing tall and imposing on a church altar. 

Walking to the table, Barty doesn't take his eyes off Evan, like he's hypnotized by him. He gets on top of the marble table, kneeling between Evan's parted legs and rests his hands on his knees. He licks Evan's tears, humming when the small amount of blood coates his tongue. 

"Are you ready to feel God, Evan?" He asks him very quietly. 

"Yes," he breathes out. "Yes."

Barty takes the rosary from his wrist, using the tip of the cross to cut his palm, stroking his own length with his blood, lubing himself to enter Evan. 

Evan thinks he will get rid of the rosary, but he puts it around Evan's cock, like a decoration for the profane act they're about to commit in sacred territory. He's not sure what God Barty is hoping to find in these circumstances, he thinks they committed so much sacrilege in the past minutes the only thing they're coming closer to is hell. 

Barty puts Evan's thighs on top of his, and supporting himself with hands on the side of Evan's head, he enters Evan. 

And it's like a miracle being gifted to him. Evan moans with the intromission and relaxes his body for Barty. He's in slaughter but doesn't care, he needs this, needs Barty thrusting inside of him, coated in holy water and blood. 

Barty grunts in the side of his face, thrusting hard inside of Evan and kissing his jaw while doing it, his hands wander through Evan's thighs, touching every bit of skin until he gets there. 

"So pretty, baby," he tells him hoarsely, drinking Evan's noises like it's the best thing he ever heard. "Are you feeling blessed yet, Evan?" 

"More," he whimpers. 

"You want more?" He sounds amused, but obeys, fucking Evan so hard he needs to hold him down by the stomach. Evan can feel Barty's dick poking at his stomach, watching the bulge in his belly with unfocused eyes. 

He's lost to it. Lost to Barty. He's not sure if this is what God feels like, if this fire coursing through his veins and this need dominating him it's God or just Barty. If God is Barty. He just knows that he could die from this, that he'd do everything all over again to repeat this moment over and over until he has every detail saved to his memory. 

"Are you ready, dorogoy?" He asks him.

He's not sure what Barty is asking him, but in the middle of his haze, he can only nod. 

That's Evan's mistake. 

The fact he wasn't paying attention to anything other than his own pleasure.

That's why he can't stop it. 

Can't stop Barty from sinking his fangs on his neck, drinking his blood. 

Evan always wondered how it would feel, to be the one receiving a vampire bite. Humans always get hooked on it after offering their blood once, they come back for more every time and Evan can feel it, how they slowly become loose and relaxed when he drinks from them, how some of them get so high on it they get aroused with it, how some humans like fucking while being bit because it elevates the pleasure to a level only them can understand.

He also wondered, this time more privately, how vampire's blood would taste like. How it felt to drink it to become forbidden in all clans without exception. What a single taste could provoke to be something so horrible and untouchable. 

When Barty's fangs rip Evan's skin, his first thought is no. Stop it. It can't be. 

His second thought is, Oh my God. Fuck. Yes. Yes. Yes. 

Evan forgets everything about the first thought. 

Being bit by Barty is what Evan assumes being on drugs feels like, as soon as his blood flows to Barty's mouth, his entire body gets loose and relaxed. He thinks he would give anything to Barty right now if he asked, he feels like he could fly. He feels like God, and maybe that's what Barty meant, because you feel like him and not him in the room with you. His hard dick feels it too, the euphoric sensation the bite provides to him, and though it's forbidden, though it's dangerous and they shouldn't, Evan finds himself hopeless. 

He moans with the sudden bite, grips Barty's shoulder hard and rolls his hips to get Barty deeper. This feels like heaven, like being blessed. Evan has no idea how religious experiences work, but he thinks it should feel like this, because if the presence of God doesn't feel like how he's feeling right now, then it's a bad religion. 

Barty is also losing his grip on reality, and his thrust becomes faster and harder, like he's desperate to ride this high Evan is allowing him to have by drinking his blood. Feeling God has nothing to do with religion or the church they're fucking in, it's not about confessing sins, praying for them or drinking holy water. Feeling God has everything to do with Barty's teeth on his neck drinking his blood, everything to do with his deep and bruising thrusts, his hungry grunts while he keeps drinking from Evan and the high it takes over Evan's body. 

They get messier, rougher and quicker. Barty holds Evan up, sitting him on his lap and shoving him down on his cock with mouth still drinking from him, and Evan wants Barty full of him. Full of his blood. Addicted to it. Crazy for it. He wants to die like this, consumed by Barty with blood dried from him. 

"Oh, fuck," he cries out, rolling his hips frantically because he needs to cum. His cock it's aching painfully and he sees stars in his eyes. 

Maybe God is real, maybe he's not, but when Evan comes, he sees God, not only in the church's stained glasses or on the cross over them, but in his soul and Barty's bite. He shakes helplessly, holding onto Barty so tightly his nails cut his skin open, and he can't stop coming, wanting Barty to bite him all over again so he can come once more. 

He feels faint, feels his body becoming heavy and lights getting dim. 

Evan should be furious, Barty crossed a line, he broke the only rule vampires should follow no matter what and he didn't even ask Evan's consent to do it. But now that Evan felt it, now that he knows what it feels like, he can't get mad. Because he thinks he would allow Barty to do it again.

And if being bitten felt like this already, he's scared of knowing what tasting vampire's blood feels like. 

Because if it's better than that, then Evan understands why it's forbidden. Why you can get addicted to it. 

Barty finally lets go of his neck, his lips, face and neck all dirty with Evan's blood, and his eyes are entirely black again. He's high on Evan, tasting euphoria on his tongue. 

He looks at him but doesn't see him, he's in another universe entirely, he's so out of reality that Evan can barely reach him. Barty doesn't stop fucking him though, moaning for a release he wants to chase it and holding Evan's waist tightly. 

Evan thinks he's beautiful like this, lost to his pleasure and drunk on Evan's blood. Covered in his blood. Belonging to him. 

He takes his face between his hands and brings their mouths close, riding Barty's cock while kissing him. 

The taste of his own blood on his tongue it's new and intriguing, it doesn't work as a drug for Evan because it belongs to him, but it's hot nonetheless. He sucks on Barty's tongue, letting his fangs cut his lips until his blood runs down his neck. It's messy and fast, wet and sloppy, but it's magical. It's God on sex. Sin and heaven combined together in an act. It's forbidden and dangerous but so, so fucking good. 

Barty grunts on his mouth and with a few more thrusts he comes inside of Evan. 

Both of them are wasted, so Evan falls with his back to the table again and Barty lays on top of him. But he's restless, still high, and while Evan can move out of pure bliss, Barty proves to be on the opposite side, getting hard all over again while he licks Evan's neck, all of the blood that ran down while he was feeding. 

"Barty, stop," he mumbles, clenching around his cock automatically.

"You taste so good," he says hoarsely, his voice barely sounds like him. "I knew you'd taste good, but God, it was better than what I imagined." 

"You can't do it again," he warns him. Now that his conscience it's coming back, Evan is realizing what the fuck they just did. He doesn't want to get addicted to it, or worse, have Barty addicted to him. 

"I can't?" He asks, almost challenging, like Evan is threatening to take away his favorite toy. 

"Yes, you can't," he confirms. 

"Tell me, Evan, do you think you can stop me?" He asks him, going back to thrust inside of Evan, nice and slow. The wet sound of his orgasm squelching when his cock comes back inside it's completely nefarious. 

"What?" He breathes out. 

"Do. You. Think. You. Can. Stop. Me?" 

"You will stop," he tells him. "It's my blood. I won't allow it."

"You will," he laughs almost cruelly. "Because you'll beg for it again when the high passes. You'll be begging me to bite you."

"Get off," he growls at him. 

But Barty doesn't, he gets close to Evan's neck, to his ear, and says, "If I want your blood, I'll drink it. You can't stop me, Evan. You let me come closer, didn't you? Now you'll deal with the consequences." 

"I'll kill you," he threatens him.

"Oh, darling," he says amusedly. "You'd be too pleased to tell me to stop. To hooked on it. You'll want it again and again, and I promise I'll give it to you."

Evan wonders if he would be able to stop it if it happens again, if he could shove Barty away without getting lost in the marvelous and delicious sensation. If his desire will speak louder than his reason again. 

He understands why it can be dangerous, because in those seconds, you barely think about the danger of the act. You don't think about anything at all. 

"You're wrong," because if he's right, Evan is better off dead.

"I'm not," he laughs again. "You are."

He sinks his nails deeper into Barty's skin, forcing the moans down because it feels like weakness to let Barty know he's enjoying this. This lazy fuck post-orgasm. The sting in his neck that didn't go away yet and the weight of his body on top of him. 

"I'm never letting you come closer again," he vows.

"Dorogoy," he purrs. "You can run but you can't hide. I'll catch you whenever I feel like it. You're mine now. You've been mine since the last time. Your blood is running through my veins, you can't get rid of me now."

"I'll kill you," he repeats again, this time angrily. At himself, for allowing his boredom to take him straight to Barty. At Barty, for showing up again only to do something irreversible, for sinking his claws deep inside of Evan and drinking his blood, sealing a fate worse than torture. 

"You can try," he tells him, thrusts getting faster and the sound of them getting louder, reverberating through the church's walls. "But I won't let you, darling." 

"I'm not yours."

"It's okay, Evan," he promises him, kissing his cheek almost sweetly. "You'll learn with time."

"Learn—" he moans, then gets mad at himself. "Learn what?" 

"That you belong to me until I say so," he tells him. "If I'm not setting you free, you won't get rid of me."

And the worst part is that Evan thinks he's being serious. 

Evan thought he was playing a game, but he wasn't, he was walking into a trap, and now he's unable to find a way out. 

"So learn your place, baby," he advises him. "I'll be nice to you if you behave, you won't want to see me being mean, will you?" 

"Fuck off," he groans angrily, pushing Barty away strongly. He falls away from Evan, but other than looking sharply at him, he doesn't do much. "I'm not yours, I won't be. And you're never biting me again." 

And he wants to mean it. He wants to believe he truly wants Barty to never do it again. He needs Barty away, he can't belong to him or let him drink his blood again. He won't. 

Barty pauses, looking at Evan emptily with nothing to give him away. 

But then he gets out of Evan, dick still hard and dirty with blood and cum alike, and he slides out of the marble table, leaving Evan alone and naked again. 

He grabs his clothes, putting them on quickly and even if Evan hates it, he wants to apologize. To tell him he didn't mean it and Barty can take anything he wants. But that's probably his plan, isn't it? He wants to use reverse psychology so Evan can give in without Barty needing to fight to have it. 

So because of that, because Evan is certain about his choice, he says nothing. 

No matter how good Barty fucks him, he crossed a line today, and Evan won't let him do it again. He won't get himself addicted to Barty, because Barty is a wildling, he wants freedom, he doesn't answer to no one but himself, he's not trustworthy or reliable. He'll ruin Evan and won't even care about it.  Belonging to Barty Crouch Jr feels like a mistake, and Evan won't make this one in particular.

They had their fun, but now Barty can forget about him even if Evan will still take some time to forget him in return. He can go back to his killing, and when he's done, he's going to leave and Evan is going to stay. 

If not death, neither of them has a future together. 

"Have it your way," Barty says finally, now dressed and somber. Without waiting for Evan's reply, he flees the church. 

Evan looks down at his body, already healed from all the bruises and grips of Barty on his skin, and he hates that, even without physical evidence of what happened between them, he can still feel Barty all over him, especially on the burn on his neck. 

His head lifts up, the rain now heavier than it was before, and he stares at the stained glass with a saint image. 

Evan can't stop thinking she looks a lot like she's crying.

He gets up and puts his trousers back, and when he leaves the church, he wonders if this is what religion feels like,— Feeling God once knowing they'll never feel anything like it again. 

♰

Barty doesn't try to approach Evan again the next day, or the day after that, and by the end of the week, Evan knows he's already old news. He kills one more person in the meantime, but Evan is mostly detached from the trail of murderers he's leaving behind. 

He spends most of his time trying to forget everything about Barty and the two times they had sex, about the shape of his body and mostly, about the bite. 

When he's alone, it's when Evan remembers all too well how it was, and he gets so full of desire for being bitten again that he fears for a second he'll hunt Barty and ask for it. But he doesn't. 

It's not an uncontrollable need, he doesn't shake for it or would do anything for it, but his fingers tingle with the memory and his cock gets hard if he thinks about it too much. 

But it's not only memories that remind Evan of what they did. Of what Barty did. It's the fainting scar on the side of his neck, pale and the size of two fangs, small enough but still noticeable if you're paying attention. Evan had no idea he could have a scar, but Barty's bite is forever going to be marked on his skin, it seems. He'll never be able to forget about being bit by him, about how it felt to feel his blood on Barty's mouth. 

Evan doesn't want to admit to himself he's disappointed by the whole thing, by the fact that Barty gave up so easily. He doesn't think he wanted him insisting, it would be a mess to have Barty's attention on him like this, but he was discarded so easily, once again, that it stung a bit. He wonders if Barty found someone else to put in his place, he clearly had drank vampire's blood before, Evan wasn't the first one, and he doesn't understand. It's said that it's addictive, but Barty didn't look like someone who couldn't control himself or was desperate for it. He stopped it, he controlled himself, he didn't try to take more. Evan doesn't understand, it seemed like something worse than it actually was. Other than craving it from time to time, Evan is fine. 

It was good, more than good, it was cloud nine. But Evan wouldn't say he'd do anything to have it again, not now that the high passed. 

Even if he thinks he would go back in time to do it again, because it was extraordinary, he knows it's an experience that shouldn't be repeated. Barty is an experience he shouldn't repeat. Even if Evan still dreams about him almost daily, he knows he made the right call, Barty is unpredictable and dangerous, and as fun as it was to play with the mad dog, Evan knows he wouldn't survive another bite from him. He was lucky that Barty wasn't that invested in him and let him go, he's not going to walk back into that trap again.

That's why Evan finds himself in a strip club on Diagon Alley, one that belongs to the Malfoys and was kindly named Abraxis, in memory of Lucius' father. Evan thought it was an odd homage, but Abraxis is actually the best place in the whole town after Three Broomsticks. 

Because Hogwarts is a small town, the places are not exactly luxurious or flashy, but the vampires in town are mostly all filthy rich, which means that Abraxis belongs to places like big cities but exists in a small, quiet town like Hogwarts because Lucius was simply bored. With the amount of money they have combined, Hogwarts could be one of the most expensive towns in all of Scotland, but they want to keep the whole small, creepy and gothic town alive, so they rarely try to change how the town works.

Abraxis it's not overly big, it has the main floor, with pole dancers on a glass catwalk and velvet seats surrounding it to watch the dancers, a big bar and tables. The lights are neon red and all the employees wear black leather or black lace. It's a normal strip club, but it has good liquor, beautiful and flawless dancers and good company. 

Evan rarely spends too much time on the main floor, he prefers the second one. The one with the private rooms, where he is now. 

Each private room has a circled black velvet seat, with a circled table in the middle and a single pole in the middle of it for the dancer of your choosing. Evan doesn't come here for sex, Abraxis it's a strip club not a whorehouse, and Evan doesn't need to pay to get sex either, the reasons he comes to Abraxis have mostly to do with the fact that Evan likes to watch beautiful things. 

It's not everyone who can get a job on Abraxis, Lucius and Narcissa only allow the best people to work here. Currently, Emmeline is their best dancer and she doesn't even need the money, she just likes to dance and draw attention, Sirius also worked here for a while because she was bored and there are more vampires working in the place, but there are humans as well. Humans who look good and know how to dance properly.

Evan has a favorite, a very gorgeous and lean boy called Theo. Theo has been working on Abraxis for almost two years, with black hair, pale skin and green forest eyes. He's an exceptional dancer and a very charming one. Evan fucked him, of course, but not for money and never inside of Abraxis. Once Theo insisted on giving him a blowjob after a private dance, but he refused Evan's money after that.

Tonight he's wearing black leather tiny shorts and a collar, very BDSMy and mostly too on the nose. Lucius uses all types of vampire stereotypes and brings them to the club, which is amusing but embarrassing just the same. 

"It's been a while since I last saw you," Theo comments, rolling in slow circles on top of the table in front of Evan. It's only the two of them here, the red lights and the fainting music coming from the stereo system on the ceiling. 

"I was busy," Evan replies easily, casual and relaxed, drinking whiskey mixed with blood. Theo knows he's a vampire, he got the scar to prove it. 

"I missed you," he confesses. "No one tips better than you."

"You only remember me when it's about money," he smirks amusedly. 

"That's not true," he grins, he has sharp canine teeth. "I remember you for other things as well."

"Aren't you going to start my show?" He wonders, resting his arm on the back of the seat. 

"You know how the tip system works," he tells him, stopping his movements and standing tall in front of Evan. He's muscular but lean, his thighs and shoulders are stronger because of his job, but his waist it's small. He's beautiful, and Evan knows he has a very wide list of people who love to pay him for the private shows. 

Evan shows him a few bucks. 

"You don't want me naked today, honey?" He eyes the amount of it. 

"Not today," he hums. "I want to watch you dance."

"Are you sure?" He tilts his head. "You seem… tense."

"Rough week," he says easily. "But I'm sure, just a dance, baby." 

Theo nods, he holds the pole and starts moving to the beat of the sensual music in the room. He's gracious, sexy and flirty. He looks untouchable, but Evan likes to know that deep down Theo is not, that he'd let Evan do anything he wants with him. He supports his body on the pole, rolling around it with legs flexible enough to make him do flawless moves. 

Evan watches intensively, not because he's horny but because he truly finds Theo beautiful dancing. It's not exactly something connected to arousal, more like admiration. 

He rolls his hips, flexes his muscles at every movement and lets Evan have a good look at his plump ass. When the song ends, he's a little breathless, with eyes blown wide for the exercise and the heavy tension in the room. 

Evan offers him more money, holding it between his fingers. Theo kneels on the table in front of Evan, grabbing the money and putting in his shorts, he puts his hands on the edge of the table, looking at Evan attentively. 

"I missed you," he repeats, this time more raspy. 

"So you said," he mutters. 

"Won't you at least give me a kiss?" He asks, wetting his lower lip. "I did good, didn't I?"

"You did," he confirms. "You want a kiss, baby?" 

"Yes," he nods slowly. 

"Come get it," he pats his thigh. 

Theo jumps on him like a cat, sitting on Evan's lap with thighs on the side of his waist. Evan caresses his dark hair, and a flash of another man with dark hair burns through his eyes, but Evan ignores it. Though they're similar, Theo is not Barty. No one compares to Barty. 

He holds Evan's cheek, tilting his head to touch their lips. The kiss it's slow and sensual, but Evan finds himself missing the taste of blood, the roughness and desperation. Theo is good at being sexy, he's good at looking like a wet dream, but he's not violent or demanding and Evan finds himself missing this. 

But he gets angry at himself for that, so he ends up holding Theo's waist and kissing him back deeply and strongly, trying to wash away the memory of Barty off of him. Theo lets out a small noise against his mouth, now seeming eager for more of Evan, and though he never came here to fuck, Evan is thinking about fucking Theo on the job nonetheless. 

Theo rolls his hips, grinding his ass on Evan's dick, starting to breathe more quickly than he was seconds ago. It would be so easy for Evan to just let him help him to forget everything about Barty, to use Theo like this. 

And he's thinking about it, he really is, until the door opens and Evan reminds himself where he's at. It's almost too quiet, the noise of the door opening, Theo doesn't notice, not in the midst of the music and the noises he's making by dry humping on Evan. But Evan does. And when he lifts his head, allowing Theo to kiss his neck, he almost falters in surprise.

Because resting on the doorframe with arms crossed and cold eyes, it's Barty.

He doesn't move, can't. Theo doesn't notice anything wrong, so he keeps kissing Evan's neck and rolling his lips, but Evan only has eyes for Barty. Barty who's not moving either, who's watching with laser-focused eyes Theo grinding on Evan. It's impossible to know what the fuck he's thinking about, what he wants and how he found Evan here. Why did he think he could just barge in and watch when Evan told him plainly that the thing between them was over. 

"God, Evan, you're so hot," Theo says fervently in his ear, biting his earlobe. 

"I will have to agree with you," Barty replies with a hard voice, still not taking his eyes from them. 

Theo jumps a little, looking behind his shoulder quickly and opening his mouth in surprise when he sees Barty. 

"Who…?" He asks, sounding confused. 

"You didn't tell him about me, dorogoy?" Barty asks Evan. "I'm wounded." 

"You know him?" Theo whispers to Evan, not getting it. 

"I do," he confirms, caressing Theo's back to tell him it's okay, he's not in danger, though Evan is not sure about this. Barty obviously notices the gesture, and he clenches his jaw hard. 

"He looks a bit like me, doesn't he?" Barty asks in dry amusement. "What's your name, baby boy?" 

"Theo," he mumbles, cheeks flushing.

"Theo," Barty repeats slowly. "How long have you been fucking what's mine, Theo?" 

"What?" He sounds alarmed, looking at Evan with wide eyes. 

"Barty," Evan says in a warning tone. Barty is being insane, they're over, he shouldn't be barging in here like he has the right. Evan is not his. 

"Did you think," he starts saying slowly, "That just because I let you quiet for a while you could put a doppelganger in my place, Evan darling? I thought I was quite clear when I told you you belonged to me." 

Evan gets filled with anger. So Evan is his, but he's always quick at tossing him around when he's not bothered enough to do something about it. He's so tired of Barty's shit. 

"Get downstairs, Theo," Evan tells the boy calmly. 

"No," Barty growls. 

"Barty."

"You know what happens when someone touches what's mine, Evan?" He asks, now getting out of the doorstep and kicking the door shut. "I gouge their fucking eyes off."

"Evan," Theo whines, sounding scared now and gripping Evan's arms tightly. 

"Get your fucking hands off of him," he barks, all composure gone now. Now, Barty Crouch Jr looks more like his true self, a mad dog who escaped his leash. 

Theo only grips him harder, and Evan can hear his heart starting to beat faster in fear. 

"Can you tone it down?" Evan snaps. "Stop being crazy, Jesus."

"Crazy?" Barty laughs loudly, a very wretched sound. "You want to see how I am when I'm being crazy, Evan?!"

"You're scaring him," he says coldly, holding Theo close because now he's shaking like a leaf in Evan's lap. 

"Am I, bunny?" He asks sweetly at Theo, who nods very slowly and mechanically, like he fears that if he doesn't, Barty will jump on him. "Good, you should be scared."

"Barty!" Evan grunts, getting up and putting Theo behind him. "Get the fuck away from here."

"Is this how you think this will happen, Evan?" He asks him, walking closer and getting at his face. He's almost snarling now. "That you get to just walk around kissing other men and I will sit and watch?"

Evan laughs in disbelief. "You left. I told you we were done."

"Done?" He repeats slowly. Deadly. "You think you can be done with me?"

"I already am."

Barty grabs him by the neck, pushing him strongly to the wall and bumping Evan's head on the hardness, Theo lets a wounded sound escape from his lips, Evan hopes he gets out now that Barty is distracted. He gets on his face with a scary expression. 

"You won't ever be done with me before I'm done with you, Rosier," he spits out. 

"I won't be yours," he spits back. "I told you that already. I'm not yours."

"You'll be," he sinks his nails on his cheeks, holding his face with one hand while the other holds him to the wall by the neck. "I told you to behave, Evan. And you choose to do this? Fucking a whore while I gave you time to calm down?" 

"You gave me time?" He lets out a loud ha. "You told me to have it my way, didn't you? I am. My way consists of having nothing to do with you."

"Don't move," Barty says sharply, but not to Evan. 

Theo is with wide eyes filled with tears, shaking copiously by watching both of them. He's closer to the door than he was before. 

"Let him go, Barty," Evan tells him, very seriously. 

"Go?" He laughs again. "He was humping on your dick like a whore in heat and you want me to let him go?" 

"I— I di— didn't k-know," Theo starts crying. "I'm s-sorry!" 

"He's sorry," Evan repeats. "You do this, I won't ever look at your face again." 

"That so?" Barty asks, almost too calm. Evan should've paid attention to that. He didn't. "Is he special to you, darling?" 

"Let him go, Barty," he repeats.

"He is, huh?" He confirms. "He's not a new plaything, he has been around for longer than that, hasn't he?" 

"Barty—"

"How long have you known him, bunny?" He asks Theo, switching his tone and expression altogether, seeming extremely calming and understanding now. 

"T-two years," he replies shakenly. 

"Two years," he hums. "Is he better than me, Evan darling?"

"Stop," Evan grunts. 

He bangs Evan's head on the wall again, more strongly this time and causing a hole in the concrete. "Answer the fucking question, Evan."

If Evan lies, Theo is dead. If he tells him the truth, Barty will be mad and Theo will probably be dead. 

"No," he replies quietly, almost whispering. "No, he's not. I was trying to forget about you, is that what you wanted to hear?" 

Barty looks at him, eyes focused and sharp, but he doesn't seem deranged anymore, so maybe Evan did something right. 

"You think he can make you forget about me?" He asks. 

"I don't."

"But you were going to try anyway," he concludes, loosening his grip on Evan's throat. "I told you wouldn't like me being mean, didn't I?" 

"What—"

But it's already too late, because too quickly, quickly enough for Evan to be able to stop it, Barty is ripping Theo's throat with his teeth. He doesn't even have time to scream, in a blink, he's already dead. 

"Barty!" Evan groans angrily. 

"This is what happens when you think you can use someone else to forget about me," he screams, face now covered in blood as well as the wall where the blood splashed. Theo's body falls to the ground with a heavy thud. He points at Theo on the floor, forming a pool of blood under him and dirtying the dark carpet. "You can't forget about me. You won't." 

"You'll clean this fucking mess," he snaps. He's not exactly sad that Theo died, but Theo was someone to Evan, he liked him, and now he's dead because Barty has issues. 

"No. You will," he says angrily. "You caused this mess the second you looked at him."

"Stop being crazy!" He repeats. 

But this only makes Barty more angry, and he starts ripping Theo's body apart. Literally. He throws his fucking head at Evan, squinching blood everywhere. His. Head. 

"Is this crazy enough for you?" He asks, with eyes wide open. Barty looks like the devil, all covered with blood with a mad grin on his face. Evan wants to kill him, but god, how beautiful he looks. 

Evan goes to him using his speed, holding Barty by his shoulders to make him stop, dirtying his hands with Theo's blood. The smell is almost unbearable and if Evan is feeling it, it means other vampires who are in the club possibly can as well. If someone warns Lucius or Narcissa of this, Barty and Evan are fucked. 

"You need to calm down," he tells him.

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down," he bites back. "You were going to fuck him."

"As cute as it is that you think you have a claim on me, you're forgetting you're a fucking serial killer and there are vampires hunting you down," he says sternly. "Killing a person in a club that belongs to one of those vampires wasn't the smartest thing you could do, sweetheart."

"I suppose," he mumbles, blinking lazily at the body at their feet, now headless. Evan doesn't even think Barty is aware of what he had done. 

"Go away, Barty," he orders him. Evan wants to make him clean this mess, after all it's all on Barty, he didn't do shit. But he knows that the more Barty stays here, the more riskier it is for him. Anyone could barge in after smelling the blood or hearing the noises coming from the room, and then they'd want to know what Barty is doing here in a room with a dead, decapitated body. Evan should throw him under the bus, but he can't 

 "Fine," he agrees. But then he's gripping Evan's face again, squeezing his cheeks. "But we're not finished, do you hear me? I'm giving you time to be a brat, but sooner or later you'll accept that you have an owner. You belong to me, if I want to fuck you, you'll spread your legs to me, take it and moan like a whore, and if I want your blood you'll give it to me and ask for more. Got it?"

"Go," he says slowly, approaching his face to his, "Fuck. Yourself."

Barty slaps his face, hard and stinging, but Evan barely feels it. He doesn't care if Barty is pissed at his insolence, he's not scared of him. Evan won't be his, especially not now that Barty made such a mess. He needs him away. 

No matter how attracted to Barty he is, how much he thinks about him, Barty is too messy for Evan's life. He's not crazy enough to keep him. 

"I can't wait for when you'll be begging for me, dorogoy," he sighs dreamily, kissing his lips softly like he just didn't kill someone and slapped Evan's face. He's wondering if Barty has violent mood swings or if he's just normally like this. He was well-centered the last time Evan saw him, but now he's acting completely unhinged. 

"We're over, Barty," he says firmly. 

But Barty only smiles, caressing his cheek softly like Evan is being silly. "I'll be back, behave while I'm not around, yeah? I can do worse than this." Evan is not excited to learn what else he can do. 

Evan doesn't reply, and with a last peck on Evan's lips, Barty leaves. 

He then looks around, to the splashes of blood on the dark walls, it's barely noticeable in the red lights, but someone paying attention would definitely notice. And the smell. A young vampire wouldn't last one minute in this room without wanting to lick the floor, the scent of blood is almost unbearable even to Evan. But the worst part is the body. 

Theo was interesting enough, pretty and alluring, but now he's a broken, dismembered body. His head is on the other side of the room, with eyes still wide open, his left arm twisted and his left knee linked to his thigh by a single muscle. Evan doesn't know much about Theo's personal life, but he knows he lived in Hogsmeade alone, so at least that won't be a family missing him. 

Evan wishes he could feel something, but other than annoyance he'll have to clean this mess, there isn't much inside of him. He knows it's his fault, he shouldn't have searched for Theo or let him come closer knowing Barty was still around, but he honestly thought Barty had already forgotten about him. Apparently, he was just giving Evan time. He didn't think he would be so thoughtful of Evan's wishes, but he also thinks this is over now and Barty won't respect Evan's wishes for space anymore. He turned the entire situation worse. 

Even if Theo's death is partially on Evan, he won't grieve him much. Maybe this turns him into a monster, maybe he's no better than Barty, but he won't waste his time thinking about such things. 

He sighs, and knowing it's for the best, he reaches for his phone and calls his sister.

"I was waiting for this call," she says as a greeting, her voice melodic and calm. 

Great, so Pandora fucking knew and she didn't do shit to stop this mess from happening. What a seer sister is good for if she won't tell you the bad things? 

"So you know where I am and you know what happened," he says angrily. 

"Not what happened," she denies. "But I know where. Abraxis, isn't it?" 

"Yes," he confirms. "Room four."

"The death number in Japanese culture," she hums. "What can I bring?" 

"Plastic bags," he looks down. "And chemicals to clean blood."

"Alright."

"Come alone," he instructs her. 

"Dorcas is in Reg's house, I stayed behind," she tells him. Because she knew Evan would need her and her secrecy. 

"Great. Don't take too long."

"I never do."

She ends the call, and in five minutes sharp she arrives with a duffle bag on her shoulder. 

Pandora enters the room and immediately grimaces at the smell of blood, it's a trap for vampires who didn't feed recently. Then she looks at the walls with blood and at the floor, to Theo's body, and sighs. 

"It's quite a mess," she comments. 

"Close the door, we need to clean this quickly," he tells her, starting to dismember the rest of Theo's body because they won't be able to just run around with a headless body. "Then we can talk."

"Alright."

They put parts of Theo inside the plastic bags, and Pandora feels a little bad for treating his body without any decency and respect, to which Evan tells her to suck it up and cut his torso in half. When the body it's taken care of, Pandora goes to deposit the plastic bags in the Rosier Manor, since they're going to bury him in the woods surrounding the place, and Evan stays back to clean the fucking place. 

The employees of Abraxis are definitely going to notice Theo is gone, and that he went missing while he was supposed to be with Evan, but if no one will be missing him and there isn't an obvious clue of Evan's involvement, he knows it's more likely people will just look the other way or consider him one more missing person across many. The rooms also don't have security cameras because the second floor uses the meaning of private seriously, so Evan will thank the heavens for this. Trying to delete the camera's records would be too troublesome. 

When everything is clean enough and there's not a single drop of blood in the room, Evan leaves, using the emergency door on the second floor no one uses it. 

He goes back to his house as fast as he can, and when he enters Pandora is covered in mud and dirty in the kitchen. She probably took care of the body already. 

"Tell me what you know," Evan orders. He's tired, dirty and really fucking mad, but he needs to know. He vowed he wouldn't talk about Barty with anyone, but Pandora is already involved. 

"The killer is Barty Crouch Jr," she says. "I saw it after the third kill, you, watching him."

"And you let me?" 

"It seemed like a good thing," she explains. "I don't get involved, you know that."

"And then what?" He inquiries.

"I saw he was going to be in the church that morning and I saw you wanted to see him again, so I told you we should go," she confesses. "Besides these two visions, I only saw this morning you two would have a fight. I didn't see a dead body." 

"Why didn't you stop me?" He grunts. 

"Why? Is he treating you badly?" She asks curiously. Pandora can't see all the alternatives for the future, or the entire context of her visions. They're useful, but they're not complete most of the time. 

"He's fucking crazy, Dora," he pulls at his hair. "He thinks he owns me now, but he only sends me mixed signals. We fucked, he left without saying goodbye and ignored me for a week. Then we met again at the church, he told me I was his and I told him to fuck off because that man is trouble," he doesn't tell her about the biting. "He left again, didn't approach me again, and then today I was with Theo and he just showed up being crazy. Being possessive and jealous and he fucking killed him. He was possessed or something. He's nuts." 

"I think it was quite romantic," Pandora comments, unbothered by Evan's problems. "He was a little stupid for ignoring you, but this time I think he just wanted to give you space, or maybe show you how you don't like missing him. You like him, don't you? He drives you mad, but you're fond of him."

"I need him away," he says, not denying or confirming anything. "He causes messes everywhere he goes, he'll leave eventually. He's only here because he wants revenge against his father and he's killing people to play with him." 

"But you still like him," she repeats, her eyes on Evan makes him feel like she's looking at his soul. 

"He's hot," he shrugs. 

"It's not only the sex," she shakes her head. "I know you, you're a sucker for feeling alive and he causes that on you. He might be a little insane, but it makes you excited as much as it pisses you off."

She's right, Evan hates that she is. 

It would be much easier if Evan didn't feel shit for Barty, but he likes the thrill he causes him, the sensation of never knowing if he'll be passionate, funny or crazy. He's curious about Barty too, wants to hear about his life and what he did over the years. He wants more kisses and touches. He wants to be bit by him again.

And because of all of this, Evan knows he's safer if he stays away from him. Evan came to Hogwarts because he wanted a peaceful and quiet life, Barty is anything but that. He'll blow away Evan's house of cards, and after he destroyed everything and caused a hurricane in Evan's life, he will leave and Evan will stay behind, broke and bitter. 

"It's madness to be with him," he mutters. 

"The heart wants what it wants," she says quietly. "I can't see much, but what I did see wasn't all that bad." 

"That's not enough."

"It's also not enough for you to toss the opportunity away," she rebukes. "You could've ended this weeks ago. You could've handed him over to the organization. To his father. But you didn't. You want him around." 

Around. Away. Evan is not even sure what he wants, if he should listen to his brain or his heart. If he could let his reins loose for Barty or not. 

It's the bad things that can get you addicted to them. 

"I want him to stop." 

Pandora looks at him like she knows he's lying but won't comment on it. She was always good at letting Evan be delusional for his own sanity. 

"Let's just shower," she suggests. "You can think about this later."

"Okay," he nods. 

He made his decision, but it's a weak one, and Evan is afraid Barty will see right through it and get what he wants in the end. Evan is not strong enough to deny him any longer, he knows he isn't. 

Barty is a force of nature, a natural disaster waiting to happen, and Evan will be blown away by his strength. 

♰

Feeding it's the most important part of a vampire's life. Without blood, they're weak, vulnerable and dangerous. They need to feed to gain control, and in Hogwarts, there are a lot of people who are willing to be your blood bank. 

It's normal for them to have a regular person they feed off, Pandora and Dorcas have Lily, Regulus has his butler, Kreacher, and Evan has three solid options. One of them is dead, which leaves him with only two, Kingsley, the attorney of Hogsmeade and Kieran Avery, the son of Hogwart's mayor. Evan wouldn't say he has a sexual agreement with them, but more often than not it ends up happening because of the whole feeding thing. 

Now that Evan was bitten, he can understand. When he's feeding, he gets almost drunk on blood, but when you're being bitten, your blood feels like fire coursing through your veins and your body pulsates with a need that's almost unexplainable with words. 

He refused to get out of his house after Barty's stunt, it had been a few days but Evan is clearly avoiding him. He doesn't want to talk to him and it's still too mad to think clearly about the smart way to deal with him. 

But Evan needs to feed and he's not going to try to form a bond of trust with a random person just because there's a crazy vampire with possessive issues wanting to own him. So he calls Avery to his house because Avery is his favorite. 

Avery is a little bit posh and self-absorbed, he's always wearing polo shirts or button-downs and his hair it's annoyingly perfect every time he goes to see Evan. At first glance, you would think he's just the preppy mayor's son, but he can also be fairly interesting and funny. 

He's not pretty like Theo was, Avery is not tall or lean, he's a little short and a little too skinny. His nose is a bit crooked, his lips a little too thin and his eyes a little too big, but when you look at him as a whole, he has a charming yet unusual beauty in him. Evan likes to watch him, he supposes, his company it's not unbearable and the sex is quite good. He's freaky, a bit. He likes when Evan uses his strength and forces him down, he likes when they break things across the room and he likes the purples that come with the brute force Evan leeches on him. They usually have fun, but Evan is not naive enough to think Barty is not listening. He's always paying attention, it seems, Evan was too stupid to think he wasn't, and if he killed Theo for simply kissing Evan, he doesn't want to know what he'll do to Avery if they come back to old habits. 

Theo was a nobody, no one but his co-workers noticed his disappearance, but Avery is the mayor's son and Evan should at least try to keep him safe from Barty. 

And annoyingly, Evan is also not interested in having sex with men that aren't Barty. He got under Evan's skin and no one else seems good enough anymore, not even the ones Evan made a habit of fucking before him. 

So Avery is here only to get high on the bite and feed Evan. 

"Your driver is still outside," Evan comments, looking out the window to the front yard and seeing the black car parked close to the gates of the manor. 

"Father insisted," Avery explains easily. He's sitting sideways in the black armchair of Evan's study, legs thrown over the arm. "He's wary of the missing people, I can't be alone for long. He's afraid I'll be the next," he scoffs. 

"You don't think you can be the next?" He asks, turning around to stare at him again. 

"I'm too important, don't you think?" He grins at him. "Most people who go missing are the ones who work at night and walk around empty streets. Everyone always knows where I am." 

"Makes sense," he doesn't think Barty would have a problem with getting Avery alone. 

"It's strange, though," he says slowly, looking at Evan. "Not a single word about where those people might be. My hunch is that they're all dead but someone is hiding the truth from the local police." 

"I guess time will tell," Evan says boredly. "Did you finish your drink already?" 

"Why aren't we doing this on your bed again?" He asks, getting up from the armchair and walking to the wooden table. "We had fun there last time." 

"We broke the bed frame and you passed out," he reminds him dryly.

"As I said, fun," he smirks. 

Evan pulls him by the wrist, positioning Avery close to the table and trapping him there. His ass sits at the edge of the wood, and he looks up to stare at Evan's face. Avery's heart is beating steadily, and Evan can hear the loud pulse point in his throat, the vein there with the hot blood. Avery's blood always tasted sweet, Evan loved it since the first try. 

He tilts Avery's head to the side with a single finger on his cheek, licking the side of his neck and inhaling his scent. Avery smells good, like expensive cologne and delicious blood. Evan holds him by the hair, locking him in place so Avery doesn't move while he's feeding, and when Avery sighs in anticipation, Evan sinks his fangs into his neck. 

Feeding is always like an out-of-body experience, as soon as the blood touches your tongue, the world stops spinning and your insides start to burn. The ironed taste of it feels like a drug on Evan's tongue, and it's hot. Thick, strong and rich. Evan understands why some vampires can't resist the urge to drink humans dry, because the taste of blood awakens something in them, it makes them want to keep seeking the sensation of it. The little whisper on the back of his mind tells him he doesn't need to stop, that he can keep drinking until Avery is dead and that his life belongs to Evan's hands. 

Most people think feeding from the vampire's perspective is a sensual, erotic experience, but not in the common sense. For the vampire, feeding has to do with killing, ending the prey's life and taking it as a prize. It doesn't have to do with the high or the arousal, but the desire for blood and life equally. It's the unbearable desire to own their heartbeats until it's slow and dying, it's holding their heavy and dead bodies in your hands and snapping their necks. It's about the control, always the control that's almost too hard to maintain. 

To Avery, it's all about the sensations. 

As soon as Evan bites him, he moans with the feeling, a little in pain but overall in ecstasy. His heartbeats slow down as the blood flows to Evan's mouth, and his shoulders drop with the gift of relaxation. His shaky fingers hold Evan's shoulders and his breath gets hitched, but no matter how putty he's in Evan's hand, his dick hardens with the bite.

Once Avery explained to him that his bite was like a calming drug, but very good at making you groggy and horny. He told him that even if everything became slow and loose, when Evan fucked him after or while biting him, he would feel his body floating and his body singing. The description was the opposite of what Evan felt when Barty bit him, he wasn't slow or loose, he was fucking high on adrenaline wanting to fly over the sensations. He was crazy for more and more, not because it was calming but because it was euphoric.

Avery moans again, drawn and low, and he grinds on Evan's leg, moaning again when he barely brushes his body on Evan's. If it weren't for Barty, Evan knows he would fuck Avery, they did this dance many times before, but he won't touch him because he's not Barty and Evan also doesn't want to have him barging inside of his house like he did in the club. Evan needs to feed, he's not doing it to forget about Barty but to survive.

Evan can feel his body becoming stronger and fuller again, and he needs to fight the urge to keep drinking until Avery's heart is not beating anymore, but he doesn't. Because even if it's natural, Evan doesn't kill his sources. 

He loses his jaw, licking the blood running down Avery's neck and sucking at the skin. He moans again, humping on Evan's leg one more time and whining when Evan lets go of the grip on his neck. Evan grabs a bandaid from his pocket and puts it on Avery's neck, it won't hold much of the blood but it will prevent him from getting his shirt dirty. 

Evan puts a little distance between them, but Avery's grip on his shoulder tightens, and though he's sloppy and heavy-eyed after being bit, he still has strength to trap his legs around Evan's waist. 

"Fuck me," Avery asks in a whisper, digging his heel into Evan's ass and bringing him close to his body so he can grind on Evan's crotch this time. 

"Not today," he replies, holding Avery's thighs and making him disentangle his legs from him. 

Avery blinks slowly, confused and breathes through his nose loudly. "Why?" 

"I'm not in the mood." 

"Can I at least ride your thigh?" He asks slowly, his voice slouchy. 

Evan could say yes, it wouldn't be much of a problem to him, just a little help he could offer after Avery let him drink from him. But the memory of Barty fucking tearing Theo's head apart flashes through his head and he knows it would be Avery's sentence. 

Barty is not even close, Evan thinks, but if he knew about Theo then he might know about Avery, and Evan won't give him reasons to cause a mess.

It's not that Evan would be sad about Avery's death, but he would be pissed. Avery is important, he's too valuable, and if Barty keeps killing the people he feeds from, Evan will need to find other sources and that would be a bother to him. He wants Barty to stop messing up his schedule and habits. 

"Not today," he repeats.

Avery pouts, like a spoiled kid who was told no for the first time, and he only doesn't try to argue because he's too drunk and slow still. 

"I'm jerking off," he lets him know. "I need— I need to cum." 

"I'll be in the kitchen," probably hearing everything, but still. "Do you want tea?"

"I want your cock fucking my ass."

"Camomile it is," he grins, kissing the top of Avery's head as a thanks. "Thank you."

Avery looks at him with hooded, dark eyes, and steals a single kiss as a reward. 

"Next time you'll fuck me," he says quietly. 

Not if Barty is still around. "We'll see." 

And then Evan leaves him to his own problems, hearing absently Avery's noises and wet sounds from his kitchen, and distantly he thinks about how much he's already letting Barty affect his life. 

Evan stops in his tracks when, coming back from the laundry shop, he finds police cars around the perimeter of Hogsmeade's main park. People are gathered around the place, whispering among themselves, and they're too many at the same time so Evan can barely catch what they're talking about. He hears some of the words dead, horrible, monster and devious. He feels his body turning cold. 

Evan spots Remus Lupin between the people, with arms crossed and a plastic bag in his hand, like he was just passing around after a trip to the grocery store. He goes to him, because if someone knows what's happening, it's Remus. 

"What happened here?" He asks easily, tilting his head to the park. Evan can't see anything incriminating, there are too many cars around the place for him to see clearly what the police are hiding, but he can see the cops around something on the floor and a guy taking pictures. 

"Murder scene," he replies easily, watching attentively the cops, like he's with them instead of Evan's side. 

"The same…?" He asks quietly. Barty didn't kill a single person in a public place, the closest was a body on the Gryffindor territory close to Hogsmeade's school, but not close enough for someone to spot the body in the daylight. 

"No," he says thoughtfully. "I'm not sure if it's the same person either. The wrists weren't torn apart and the throat wasn't ripped." 

"Then how were they killed?" He asks, not knowing what to think about any of this. 

"His heart was taken," he replies, now turning his head to stare at Evan. Remus has a serene, soft face, but his eyes hold something strong and resilient. "That's the only thing indicating his death. His heart was torn apart from his chest and the killer took it with him." 

Evan feels a wave of dread on his spine. 

"Remus," he says slowly. "Who died?" 

"Kieran Avery." 

Evan controls the urge to scream in anger. 

No one will connect the dots, but it was the same killer. Except that Barty wasn't following his Modus Operantis this time, he wasn't trying to continue his trail of murderers with his sign, he was trying to send a message to Evan. He was trying to make a statement only he would understand. 

Evan knows it wasn't another person. He knows it was Barty.

Because Barty is fucking insane and clearly has some issues. Because Evan told him he wasn't going to be his, and now Barty is throwing a tantrum to show Evan that he also doesn't get the chance to have someone who's not him. 

"Avery," he repeats dumbly. 

"You saw him yesterday didn't you?" Remus asks, eyes searching for something in Evan's face, maybe panic or remorse. But Evan doesn't show anything because he doesn't feel anything about Avery's death, the only thing he's feeling has everything to do with Barty and his stupid actions. 

"Yes, he was at my place," he confirms. "He left with his driver." 

"The driver is missing," he tells him. "James is looking for him."

"James knows already?" 

"Yes," he blinks. "I guess I'll see you later, meeting at midnight, this breaks the fragile truce we had with the mayor and the police."

"I see," he mutters. It's a mess, a big fucking mess. "I'm going home, then."

Remus nods, turning his head back to the crime scene. 

Evan walks out of the streets trying to look calm, but as soon as there are no people around, he runs back to his house. And when he gets to his doorstep he pauses, because, in front of the door on the floor, there's a wooden box with no note attached to it.

And when Evan opens it, there's a human's heart inside. 

He will fucking kill Barty. 

Evan has only time to grab a dagger before he's running out of his house to the woods again, he doesn't know where Barty is hiding, but he knows that he's always paying attention to Evan, even from miles away. 

So when Evan screams, "Barty!" In the middle of the woods, he knows he will show up.

It takes a second, two, three and then Evan is listening to the ruffling of leaves and light steps on the ground. Barty appears between trees with a secret smile on his face, assured and cocky. 

"Hello, Evan darling," he greets him, but doesn't move from his spot, clearing keeping a distance from Evan. 

Evan is mad, he's more than mad actually. He's furious. Barty showed up in this godforsaken town, causing a mess in everyone's life and putting them at risk. But worse than that, he caused a mess in Evan's life. He didn't ask for permission, didn't care about Evan's opinion, he just did what he wanted to and ruined Evan completely.

He killed two of his sources and made it Evan's problem, he's getting out of control entirely. What was supposed to be a thrilling game became a nightmare, and Evan hit his limit. Barty needs to be taught a lesson. 

"You look mad," he says slowly, eyes heavy on Evan, standing with clenched jaw. 

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" He asks him quietly. Deadly. 

"Ah," he mutters amusedly, the beginning of a grin on his lips. "You saw my gift, then. Did you like it, dorogoy?" 

"He was the mayor's son!" His voice elevates, and Evan knows he sounds more than mad. Yet, Barty doesn't budge. 

"He was a bitch," he shrugs. "And he died like a fucking pussy. He even pissed on his pants!" He laughs delightfully. 

"What's wrong with you?!" 

"I told you," he says very calmly, "To behave. But it seems like you have a problem with listening to me," he sighs, like Evan is the unreasonable one. "I told you I could do worse things and what did you do, huh? You invited that little bitch to your place."

"I've been feeding from him for three years!" He says exasperatedly. 

"And fucking him," he says coldly. 

"I didn't fuck him last time," he shakes his head. "He was willing, did you know that, Barty? He was humping on my leg and giving me these bedroom eyes." Barty closes his hands in tight fists. "I didn't fuck him, because for a second there I thought you would realize I was only feeding. That you weren't a stupid bitch to actually kill him, but here we are." 

"He's a nobody!" Barty says pissedly.

"He's the mayor's son," he scoffs. "And you fucking took his heart out and left the body in the center of Hogsmeade." 

"He touched you," he snarls. 

"That's not an excuse for what you did."

"I don't need one."

"I'm going to tell you one last time, yeah?" He says slowly. "I don't belong to you, you don't own me." 

Barty stays quiet for a few beats, but eventually, he says, "Do you know what I can't stand, Evan?" He asks rhetorically. "Liars."

"I'm not lying," he groans. 

"All you say is that you're not mine," he rolls his eyes. "Oh, Barty, we're over. Oh, Barty, I'm not yours. I don't belong to you, bla, bla, bla," he scoffs. "But I can see it in your eyes, dorogoy. You want to be mine, you're just refusing out of principle because it scares you, doesn't it? You feel drawn to my darkness. You want me, and you hate it because it breaks this boring, little life you built for yourself in this stupid town. You're so confusing!" He throws his hands up in the air. "You wanted me at first, and then you got mad that I discarded you, but now that I want to keep you, you want to push me away and because of what? Peace of mind?" He laughs. "How very mindful of you." 

"Because you're a fucking car wreck," he replies with a grunt. "You're messy, Barty. You were fun for a thrilling night, maybe two, but all you're doing now is crossing limits. You do whatever you want and you don't even care about what I want. You didn't offer me a choice at all."

"Oh, I didn't offer you a choice?" He sounds mad now. "Me? You came back after the first time and when you told me you didn't want to see me anymore, I respected your wishes until you calmed down and thought better about it and what you did with my kindness, mhm? You tried to fuck that stupid doppelganger behind my back!" 

"Kindness?" He laughs in disbelief. "You ripped his head off! And you just killed another man out of spite because you wanted my attention. How is this kindness?" 

"Fine," he says sharply. "I'm done with playing nice, Evan. You wanted a choice? I'll give you some," he takes a step closer to Evan. "How about this, you will be mine. I will sleep in your bed when I'm not doing my killing, we will fuck and I'll treat you really nice and you'll love it and finally give yourself to me." Evan scoffs. "If you don't, then I guess I'll have to kill every person that comes close to you," he says emptily, shrugging. "If you talk to them? Dead. Feed from them? Dead. Look at them? Also dead. And I'll take more than just their hearts and bring them to your doorstep. Tell me, Evan darling, how much do you think it will take for people to notice the trail of blood pointing directly at you?" He smiles creepily, tilting his head. "I guess you could finally throw me under the bus and tell the organization about me, but I still have the right to a trial, and covering a crime as serious as mine also leads to death, doesn't it?" He hums. "So if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me. There, these are your options, dorogoy. Choose." 

Evan can't believe this. 

"Are you trying to manipulate me into a relationship with you?" He asks very calmly. 

"If you want to call that," he shrugs. "I'm just tired of your bullshit. You want me but refuse to be mine, so I guess I'll need to force your hand to get what I want."

Evan takes a moment to process everything Barty just said, and it's enough for something to snap inside of Evan. He gets filled with a hot, burning anger and his vision gets blurry with fury. 

He was never known to be a nice or warm person, but Evan was always calm and centered no matter what was going on around him. Barty changed that, though, because he drives Evan insane. He makes Evan want to burn something, be violent and draw blood. 

In a fast movement, Evan is gripping Barty by the neck strongly and pressing him to the trunk of a tree. Barty lets out a choked noise, but doesn't try to fight back the sudden rush of violence. 

"You forgot one option, love," Evan says hotly against his face, breath fawning over Barty's cheek. 

"Yeah?" He whispers, eyes locked on Evan. 

"The one I get fucking rid of you," he replies, pressing the tip of the dagger to Barty's throat. One strong stab on Barty's decaying heart and he's dead, Evan's dagger is made of pure steel, made to kill a vampire if he only aims right. And Evan knows the position of a heart like no one. He never misses it. 

"Oh," he starts to grin. "Are you going to kill me, dorogoy?" He giggles. Fucking giggles. 

"I will," he promises him. Evan is so done with Barty. He wants to kill him. Wants to kiss him. Wants to smother him with his own hands and eat his flesh. No one ever held so much power over Evan as Barty does, and he hates it. 

Evan didn't want him to be right, but Barty wasn't lying when he said that Evan wanted him but hated it. 

"I'll fight you," he lets him know, biting his lower lip. "But if you manage to kill me, I won't hold it against you." He tilts his head forward, cutting his throat on the tip of Evan's dagger in the process, the blood flowing down his pale neck. "Go on, darling. Try to kill me. Sink your blade on my heart and take my life." 

Evan caresses Barty's neck with the blade, lowering it to his chest and stopping where his heart is. Evan presses just the tip against his flesh, and Barty hisses, though he's not fighting against it like he said he would. He only stares at Evan, looking smug about something. 

"I hate you," Evan mutters.

"Liar," he whispers. 

"I want you dead," he comes closer, just a little. 

"Liar," he repeats, holding Evan's waist tightly. Evan can feel Barty hardening, pressing his thigh between Evan's legs. 

"You're a fucking nightmare," he says almost against his lips, pressing the knife deeply inside his chest. "You drive me mad."

"Good," he smirks. "You better kill me, Evan, because if you don't stop fighting against me, soon enough I'll turn your life into a living hell," he brushes his lips against Evan's. So softly, so sweetly. "I'll paint this fucking town red and your only option will be to lock yourself up." 

"You're insane," he growls, voice low against Barty's lips. 

"And all yours, baby." 

Evan tightens his grip on Barty's throat, stealing a strangled sound from him and his knife digs a little more. He can feel the wet sensation of the blood on Barty's shirt and his now hard cock pressed against his thigh. 

The prospect of murder doesn't even scare Barty, he's treating it like foreplay. Like an erotic experience he'll be soaking in. Evan thinks Barty would let him fuck him while he's dying, to finish him off before he dies. He's fucked up like that. 

The worst part is that Evan would as well. He would indulge him. 

Evan should kill him and get rid of the problem, he knows Barty is not joking, he will start a killing spree to make a statement until Evan is tired enough to refuse him. 

It would be complete madness to accept him, like signing a deal with the devil for eternity. 

He should sink the dagger deeper and finish this. 

Evan doesn't.

He takes the dagger off and sinks into Barty's stomach, feeling frustrated with himself. Barty laughs at Evan's weakness, like he already knew he wasn't going to die today. 

"You're already mine, Rosier," he says smugly, grunting when Evan stabs him again on the side of his waist. 

"You know what you need, love?" He asks against his ear, pressing his thigh to Barty's aching cock and getting drunk on his broken moan. 

"What?" He breathes out.

"Someone to put you in your place," he licks his earlobe. 

"Will you put me in my place, Rosie?" The nickname slips off his mouth like pure honey.

Evan pulls his hair strongly, making Barty's head fall back, and without any gentleness, Evan guides him to his knees by the grip on his hair. Barty goes willingly, and he looks so beautiful looking up to Evan with big eyes and open mouth. 

He holds his head by the hair, putting the holder of his dagger on his mouth to open his trousers with his other hand. Barty looks eager, like he delights himself with punishment. An atonement for his crimes. 

Evan spits the dagger to the ground, letting his trousers and boxers fall and pool around his ankles. 

"Time to use this fucking mouth of yours for something useful," he parts Barty's lips with his thumb. Without an order, Barty opens his mouth wide to accommodate Evan's length. 

Without a warning, he thrusts his cock inside Barty's wet and willing mouth, sinking deep into his throat and feeling the clenching because of the rude intromission. Barty chokes and moans against his length, and Evan feels the vibration of his voice against his dick. 

Evan grips Barty's hair so hard he fears he'll tear his strands off, and with a strong and violent move, he guides Barty's head, making him go up and down his cock and suck him. 

"Finally you're fucking quiet," he mocks him. "You're good for something after all, aren't you? To suck cocks like a fucking whore," Barty moans again, closing his eyes like he's in heaven instead of being choked by Evan's dick. "Look at you," he says hoarsely, quickening his movement and using Barty's mouth to pleasure himself. "Scary, dangerous killer Barty Crouch Jr, nothing but a whore for a cock in his mouth, moaning on his knees, eager to be used as nothing but a cocksucker." 

He can see Barty palming his dick through his trousers. He's a sight in this position, with saliva running down his chin, eyes wide and hazy, mouth wide open full of spit. Barty can be merciless and crazy, but right now, he's nothing but Evan's slut. Drunk and aroused just with the prospect of being used and punished. Weak and pathetic for Evan's amusement. 

He likes the dominant side of Barty, the one that holds leverage when fucking Evan, but he likes this side of Barty too. The one who accepts to be degraded to nothing and used, the one who likes to be stabbed and threatened. 

Barty can be both hunter and prey, and Evan will eat him alive. 

He's done with Barty's ways. The truth about Evan is that he's not openly crazy as Barty is, he's not reckless and imprudent. But he's a fucking monster if he only chooses to be one. Evan is not prey. Barty should've listened to him. 

Evan pulls his hair again, making Barty stop sucking him off and a thread of spit links Barty's lips and Evan's cock. It's obscene and sinful, it's beautiful. 

Using his speed, Evan shoves Barty on all fours in the dirty soil, ripping his trousers apart and drinking up the surprised yelp Barty lets out. Evan kneels behind him, grabbing the dagger again and cutting Barty's back, letting the blood paint his pale skin beautifully. The dark, rich and thick blood dirties his teared-up shirt, and Barty hisses with the sudden and deep cut. Evan gets rid of the rest of Barty's shirt, ripping off of him as well and watching with fascination his skin healing up, knitting itself all over again. Barty's back is covered in only two tattoos, a big skeleton pair of wings covering the entire extension of his shoulder blades until the middle of his back, and a single Russian word in his lower back, in the middle of his spine,— греховный.

Evan dirties his fingers with Barty's blood, and roughly he shoves two of them inside of Barty's hole.

He arches his back in surprise, rolling his hips forward like an instinctive action to get away from Evan's bloody fingers. But he doesn't care, pressing them deeply to open Barty up.

"Fuck," Barty whimpers. 

Evan stabs him in the back again and again, watching the pool of blood running down Barty's back, down to his ass. It's beautiful, Barty's back is beautiful covered in blood. 

Barty cries out with the pain, but he sinks his ass down to Evan's fingers, wanting more and more. 

"Evan," he moans. 

"Do you want more?" He asks sympathetically. 

"Yes," he agrees rapidly.

"Of course you want," he hums. "Because you're a greedy, little whore, aren't you?" 

"Please," he begs in a broken voice. "I need— I need your cock." 

Evan takes his fingers out of Barty's ass, watching his hole clenching around nothing. He smears the blood on Barty's ass, painting the perky globes red and making everything sticky. Evan finally takes the dagger off of Barty's skin, and he pants in relief now that the blade is not digging anymore. 

Carefully, Evan coates the holder of his dagger in blood, and more carefully than what he did with his fingers, he enters the holder inside of Barty's hole, cutting the palm of his hand by holding the blade.

Barty gasps, looking behind his shoulder to make sure he's not imagining this, and Evan holds his waist firmly with his other hand, fucking Barty with the holder of his dagger coated in blood. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," he chokes out, closing his eyes tightly with a moan when Evan hits a soft spot. 

"You look fucking divine from here, love," Evan tells him, feeling like Barty put a curse on him. He's not lying, Barty does look divine all covered in blood being fucked by the weapon Evan wanted to kill him with. "You can be unhinged, psychopathic and violent, but right now you're nothing but a pathetic slut. All pliant, needy and willing. Right now, you're mine and not the contrary. You don't hold the power because this is the real you, sweetheart," his grip on the blade is slippery with the amount of Evan's blood, dirtying his entire wrist and hand. "Desperate to belong to someone. A moaning mess. Obedient." 

"Evan, God," he moans, movements getting frantic and shallow. "Your cock. Please, I want your cock."

"Beg for it," he orders, nails sinking into his flesh. 

"Please," he cries out. "Please, fuck me. Tear me apart. Make me a fucking moaning mess. Wreck me," he says in a rush. "Make me yours." 

"When you beg it so sweetly to me, how can I deny you anything?" He taunts him, taking the dagger out of his whole, Barty whimpers, in disappointment and excitement as well. "When we're finished, you're going to know your fucking place," he promises him, gripping Barty's hair again and pulling behind, making him sit on his lap, bloodied back glued to Evan's still-covered chest. "I promise I'll break you, sweetheart." 

"Please," he whispers one more time, grinding his ass on Evan's cock. The blood makes everything slippery. 

Evan guides his cock to Barty's entrance with his other hand, and with a hard grip on his waist, he sinks Barty down on his cock. He chokes a moan out, clenching around Evan and rolling his hips so he can go deeper. 

He controls Barty's movements by the waist, making it rough and fast. Evan shoves his bloodied fingers inside Barty's mouth, and he sucks it eagerly, tasting Evan's blood on his tongue like a junkie. He licks everything, to the point there's spit escaping from his mouth to Evan's fingers. It's messy and bloody, it's almost like a murderer scene, with blood all over Barty while he lets out broken and loud noises. 

"More," Barty asks with a whimper. "I need more, dorogoy."

Evan hums against his ear, biting his earlobe and reaching to his cock, squeezing Barty's length while he rides his cock. Evan strokes his dick with the same rhythm as his thrusts, and Barty's noises get louder. In Evan's arms, he's docile and shameless, addicted to the pleasure and devoid of freedom. 

"I'm coming," he cries out. "Fuck, I'm coming."

"That's right, baby," Evan says hotly in his ear. "Come for me. Come with my name on your mouth." 

"Evan," he says in a delirious moan. "Evan."

He shakes in Evan's arms, his movement gives out and his entire body rides out his orgasm with him, twitching and tensing.

"That's right, sweetheart," he mutters to him, not stopping his thrusts or stroke on Barty's cock. He whines with the overstimulation, but Evan doesn't stop.

"I can't—" 

"You will," he cuts him off. "I'm not stopping until you're filled with my cum inside of your tight ass, Barty," he grunts against his neck, biting him without fangs to tear the skin apart. For a single moment, he wonders what Barty would taste like. His fangs tingle his gum, but Evan controls the urge because he won't cross this line. He won't put himself into a fucked up situation just out of curiosity. 

"Evan, please," he pleads, shaky fingers trying to hold his wrists. 

Evan shoves him to the ground, holding Barty's ass up by his waist to thrust deeper into him, and Barty nearly screams with the new angle. 

"I wasn't joking," he laughs cruelly at him. "You'll be put in your fucking place today."

The sound of their skins clashing it's loud in the woods, and Barty's noises are like an animal's. He can be a vampire who will heal eventually after his strong orgasm, but Evan is not planning on stopping until Barty is begging him to stop. 

" Mnph," he whimpers with an unintelligible sound. 

"What, baby? You thought I couldn't be mean like you?" Evan teases him, thrusting deep and hard. "You thought you could just waltz into my life, mess everything up and I would accept you with open arms? You thought," he slaps Barty's ass strongly, making his body tense, "That you would kill my sources and I wouldn't do anything about it? I might accept being yours, Barty, but you will also be mine, and trust me, sweetheart, I can make your life a living hell." 

"Evan," it feels like he's praying or maybe begging for mercy. Evan doesn't particularly care. 

"So this is how we will start, yeah?" He promises him. "And when I'm done with you, I'm taking you home with me to fuck you a little more on my bed. My dinner table. Against the mirror so you can watch what a pathetic whore you are in my hands. And when I'm finished with you, you'll be so fucking tired you won't ever think about playing one of your stunts again. How does that sound to you, Barty?" 

He doesn't answer, only moaning in response with a voice already giving out. In a few minutes, Barty will be fine again, but Evan will make sure to wreck him one more time, drawing orgasms off him like a torturous bastard. Barty might even try to fight him off, but Evan won't let him win. 

Evan already knows how this will end. Barty wants to own Evan, and Evan doesn't have much of a choice but to let him. Except he won't be the lap dog Barty was hoping for. If Barty wants to be difficult, Evan will do his worst in return. 

He's mad and vengeful, yes. Spiteful at how Barty is pushing him to choose him, them. But Evan will have his fun with Barty. 

With a violent thrust, Evan finally comes, depositing everything he has inside of Barty. His orgasm is strong, and he breaks Barty's hip bone with the strength he's holding him. 

"We're about to have a lovely time together, sweetheart," Evan promises Barty, looking at the mess he made. The blood and the cum. This is what Barty wanted, Evan will give it to him. 

He tried to get away from Barty, but he chose to insist on this cursed thing between them. Even if not willingly, Evan is in this now.

And though he hates it, he knows he wants Barty. He has wanted him since the first time he saw him. And now he's keeping him.

He never felt more alive.