"I Speak So Eloquently You Won't Have The Chance To Deny Me" - Forever The Sickest Kids.

Bartimus Crouch Junior. Barty, for short. Handsome, debonair, charming. The epitome of a perfect gentleman. Well, apart from his sworn allegiance to the most powerful dark wizard that ever lived, his murderous intent and absolute loathing for anything muggle, mud blood or blood traitorous. But that's besides the point. The man was an enigma. Known throughout the wizarding world as the Dark Lords most devoted follower. And rightly so. The man had countless numbers of deaths resting on his silenced conscience - numbers which were continuously rising, mind you - and was forever guiltless to the atrocities he had committed. I say it again, the man was an enigma. A lone wolf, if you will. Out for himself for the most part, whenever the Dark Lord was not involved.

So why in Merlin's name was he so captivated by her. Her, standing there with her tresses of ebony silk reaching her waist. Enthralling green eyes which could pull any man she wished into her arms. The little black dress she wore clung to her every curve, accentuated her pale, glowing skin and seemed to make her delightfully long legs even longer. From where he was standing, she looked ethereal. Engrossed in conversation with one of the Carrows, whose name eluded Barty for the time being. A Carrow, of all people. The assumptions that this small, dumpy female possessed even the slightest ability to keep up with Her intelligence were absurd. So Barty, being the gentleman that he was in polite company, decided to rescue the poor damsel from what he was sure was the most boring, brain cell killing conversation ever witnessed in the history of mankind. Where was his shiny suit of armour when he needed it? Nevertheless, Barty removed himself from the wall he was leaning against, his hands still casually resting in the pockets of his robes. His light brown hair was styled to fall into his piercing dark eyes, which were currently still roaming the voluptuous figure he had been admiring from afar.

'Now Barty,' he said to himself. 'You have to go about this the right way. Sophistication, intelligence, eloquence. You want to gain her attention, and keep it. First impressions are the most important afterall'. He had soon reached her, not-so-politely shooing the Carrow woman away from the object of his desires. They stared at each other for a minute, each one sizing up the other in not-so-subtle fashions before donning smirks that could put the Malfoy family to shame. Then he spoke to her.

"Fancy a shag?"