#barty

He laid sprawled across his bed, one arm hanging off the side, tossing a small, silver knut into the air, catching it, then throwing it again. He had already read through all the interesting books in the dorm, bothered his least favorite housemate, and debated sneaking into Slughorn’s stash for a bit of fun. But even that felt like too much effort.

He sighed dramatically, letting his head loll to the side. The dorm was still, the air thick with the kind of midday lull that made his skin itch- drew you down to this unbearable tired. He needed something. A spark. A game. A bit of madness to wake his bones.

And then-

A soft, skittering sound at the doorway. Tiny claws against stone. A flicker of movement in the corner of his vision.

Barty turned his head sharply, and his entire mood shifted instantly the second he saw that familiar teal coat.

“Oh, there’s my girl,” He purred, pushing himself up on his elbows as you- small, sleek, and utterly adorable in your niffler form- scurried towards him with purpose. 

A purpose that gleamed between your paws.

Barty let out a delighted, wicked little laugh, eyes gleaming with manic glee as you proudly presented your newest prize- a golden ring, ornate and entirely not yours.

“Well, well, well,” He cooed, sitting up fully and reaching out to pluck it from your grasp. He examined it between his fingers, tilting his head as he recognized the engravings. “Now, this is entirely too big for you, innit?”

He grinned. You grinned (or, at least, you looked quite pleased with yourself). Preened? You preened.

Then- 

The door slammed open.

Barty didn’t even flinch. If anything, his day had just gotten much better.

Because there, standing in the doorway, looking half-feral and wholly pissed, was Regulus. 

Barty could kiss you for this. Truly, he could. And, in fact, he might.

Because what was better than both of his partners being in the same room? A pissed off Reg.

“You,” Regulus growled, storming forward, shoulders tense, hair slightly out of place like he had run here. “Tell me you did not let her steal from Avery of all people.”

Oh he just adored you.

Barty just tilted his head, considering. Then he smirked. “Define ‘let.’”

Regulus made an exasperated sound, reaching for the ring in Barty’s hand.

Barty, quick as a viper, yanked him down by the collar.

Regulus barely had time to blink before Barty’s mouth was on his, stealing away every single ounce of righteous anger in one swift, practiced move.

Regulus, like the absolute fool that he was, immediately squeezed his eyes shut. Barty always found it the cutest thing- Regulus unable to help himself. As natural as a moody cat flicking its tail, as a lion roars and as a cougar stalks- Regulus Black closed his eyes for kisses.

Barty smirked against his lips. Eying the cute way his nose scrunched up and he let out a sound close to a whine- protests he never truly meant. The adorable sight complete with him reaching for Barty’s pockets; already knowing what Barty was up to.

And somehow? His free hand still slipped the ring into his pocket without obstacle.

You, still perched on the bed, let out a soft hum of approval, tail flicking as you watched with an utterly smug sort of delight.

Barty deepened the kiss for just a moment- long enough to enjoy the soft, reluctant way Regulus gave in before he pulled back with a smirk.

“What was that you were saying, love?” He purred, tapping Regulus’s chin lightly with his fingers. “Something about our dear ol’ Avery?”

Regulus huffed, eyes fluttering open, already scowling as he reached for Barty’s pocket again. “Give. It. Back.”

Barty grinned. “Give what back?”

Regulus glared. “The ring, Barty.”

“The ring?” Barty echoed, feigning confusion. He patted his chest, then his sides, then even made a show of checking under the pillow. “Hm. Don’t seem to have it.”

“You-” Regulus cut himself off, jaw tightening. Then his sharp gaze flickered to you, still perched happily on the bed, tail flicking with amusement.

“And you,” he accused. “You know exactly what you did.”

You tilted your head, ears twitching, looking every bit the picture of innocent curiosity.

Barty’s grin only widened. “Oh, come on, Reg,” he drawled, fingers lazily tracing circles on Regulus’s waist where he still had him held close. “Look at that face- does that look like the face of a thief?”

Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose, as if trying to summon the patience of Merlin himself.

“Turn back,” Barty said suddenly, looking at you now, voice smug and expectant.

You blinked up at him.

“Go on, love,” he coaxed, a lilt of challenge in his tone. “Let’s see those totally empty pockets of yours, shall we?”

For a moment, you debated staying in your niffler form- safe, small, and easy to scamper away if things got sticky. Barty looked ready to bite- Regulus too. But both were looking at you like they already knew.

With a soft huff, you shifted back into your human form- warm magic rippling over your body as you transformed.

Barty let out a bark of delighted laughter the second he saw you.

Because, oh, you were full of it.

Your pockets bulged comically, weighed down with far too many treasures- little trinkets and stolen baubles pressing against the fabric, revealing shapes of coins, buttons, and Merlin knew what else.

Regulus made an outright wounded noise. “Oh, for Salazar’s sake-”

Barty grabbed your wrist and yanked you down into his lap, laughing as he did so. “You absolute menace,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around you tight. “Not a dull moment with you, hm?”

You wriggled slightly, but Barty just adjusted, pulling Regulus down with you in one smooth, easy move- trapping you both in his arms. Regulus made a sound of protest, but it was weak at best, his cheek pressed against your temple, caught between exasperation and reluctant affection.

Barty smirked against your hair. “Now,” he murmured, voice slow, teasing, “should we even bother to check her pockets? Or should we just accept the fact that our little niffler is a bloody menace and move on?”

Regulus groaned into your shoulder. “You both drive me mad.”

Barty just laughed, pleased as anything, nuzzling shamelessly against the two of you as you let out a small, smug hum of victory.

Because in a few hours, Regulus would make you empty your pockets and identify whose riches were whose. He’d likely scold you but give up half way through when he sees those pretty eyes of yours gloss.

He’d make you return them and Barty would be alone in his room again. Waiting.

But right now? 

Your ears were ringing and the tips of them were nearly singeing a hole in the bedsheets, but you were cognisant enough to realise that Barty was waiting for an answer from you. 

“Hm?” He prompted again, surging forward so the last few inches of his cock buried deep inside of you. “What do you think? I reckon Lupin’s quite hung; think he’d feel good fucking you like this?” 

A guttural sob escaped your lips as you shoved your face further into the mattress. 

“What about Reg’s pretty fingers, hm?” He continued; your input apparently optional. “All those years of piano, I’m sure he’s downright talented.” 

He punctuated his statement by circling your clit with his own rather talented fingers. 

“He’d love it too. I can’t blame him either; it’s such a pretty pussy, isn’t it?” 

You could only manage to moan. 

He tsks as you, making you run ever hotter. 

“What about Lupin’s hands? Huh pretty girl?” His question was followed by him circling his hand around your neck, lifting you up by the throat and forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror that he had stationed at the end of his bed. 

You looked about as wrecked as you felt.

“Those fucking hands. Merlin, watching him twirl his wand in one hand and balance a heavy tome in the other shouldn’t be so hot” Barty’s eyes were on his knuckles, flexing as he squeezed your throat within his grip. “Lupin’s got nice hands, doesn’t he treasure?” 

“Yes.” You manage, hissing as his grip became stronger when your eyes slip closed. 

“Yes he does, fuck- fuck he’d look so good with you on his cock, princess. Look at you. Hey, look at you.”

You wrenched your eyes open, watching Barty adjust his grip from your neck to your shoulder, yet you still felt like you were short on air due to his quickening pace. He was very clearly just as much, if not more, worked up over the mental picture he was painting. 

“So fucking pretty.” He grunts, pulling you flush against his front and bracing his arm across your torso so you could watch him spread your folds apart. “And this would be all Reg’s, huh? Giving that pretty clit all the attention she deserves.” 

With this, he lands a slap to your pussy, causing you to scream as you try to lurch out of his hold, though he doesn’t let you go. 

“Awe I’m sorry, treasure. Was that too rough? Reg wouldn’t do that to you, would he?” 

“No.” You whimpered, scrabbling at his forearm that was currently holding you up, desperate to gain purchase on something - anything - as you teetered the edge of ecstasy.

“No.” Barty cooed in agreement, pressing a conciliatory kiss to your damp shoulder. “No, he would be reverent, wouldn’t he? He’d have those pretty pink lips of his latched on your tits, or your clit, or your own lips. That’d be nice, yeah? Would you like that?” 

“Yes, yes- gods, yes Barty, yes.” 

Barty hummed in appreciation. “I’d like that too. Salazar, I’d like that too.” 

“Fuck Barty, fuck fuck fuck.” 

“That’s right, baby.” He let out breathlessly, releasing his hold on you and allowing you to fall forward into the mattress. You did your best to prop your chin up in an attempt to keep your eyes on the view in the mirror. “Look how worked up you are over those boys, hm? Gonna come for them?” 

“Barty!”

“Why don’t you try one of their names, huh tres?” He hissed, sounding just as close to climax as you were. “Scream Lupin’s name as you cum all over my cock.”