Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.

Written for Quidditch League Competition – Round Five

Prompt – SEEKER: Write about your team's chosen character in their 7th Year – chosen character: Barty Crouch Jr.

Seeker for the Wimbourne Wasps

Eager

Barty twitched while he was surrounded by the other Ravenclaws. He had to stop himself from cursing them. Couldn't they see that they were disturbing him?

In moments like these he regretted not having been sorted into Slytherin. He was sure that his Slytherin acquaintances wouldn't behave like mudbloods just because graduation was a couple of weeks away.

He sneered at them and got up leaving them to their giggles and gossip. What did he care that Potter and the mudblood had a fight? Severus would no doubt be happy to hear it though. He would never understand how the Potions prodigy could be so hung up with the little mudblood. Especially not after he had been gifted with such an honor. Their Master had marked Severus even though he was only a half-blood.

Severus should focus on that and rejoice in serving their Master.

"Where are you going, little Barty?" a voice whispered near his ear and he shivered. He glanced back, locking eyes with the imposing figure of Rabastan Lestrange.

"I had to get away for a bit," he replied, keeping his voice steady.

He could never show how much the other pureblood affected him. Rabastan would pounce on it like a starving wolf.

"Oh?" Rabastan raised an eyebrow. "The little eagles getting on your nerves?"

"They are behaving like mudbloods." Barty sneered in disgust.

Rabastan threw his head back and laughed.

"Don't they always?" Rabastan smirked. "Come. I have something that will cheer you right up."

Curious, with a touch of weariness tainting it, he followed after Rabastan. Barty looked around when Rabastan lead him to the seventh floor corridor.

"There's nothing here." He remarked, looking around; his eyes landing momentarily on a tapestry of a wizard with trolls. He snorted when he noticed that the wizard seemed to be trying to teach them how to dance ballet of all things.

"Have a little faith in me, Barty." Rabastan looked back at him, a roguish grin painting his features.

Barty closed his eyes and shook his head only to take a step back when he opened them again. A door had appeared where there had been nothing but a plain wall.

Rabastan's grin turned smug.

"Come on."

Barty followed behind him. He looked around the room, slightly awed by what had been hidden behind that door. It seemed like a cross between a living room and a training room.

"What did you want to show me?" Barty asked, taking a seat in one of the comfortable looking armchairs.

"This," Rabastan said, taking a letter from his pocket with a flourish.

Barty tried to grab it but Rabastan danced away.

"What do I get in exchange for showing this to you?" Rabastan teased.

Barty cursed his pale complexion when a blush rose to his cheeks. His eyes narrowed when Rabastan smirked in self-satisfaction. In the blink of an eye a curse flew at Rabastan throwing him across the room. Another moment later Barty summoned the letter, ignoring Rabastan's crazed laughter.

He opened the letter with nonchalance only to freeze when he read the contents.

"Is this for real?" he whispered.

"It is." Rabastan murmured from behind him. Barty hadn't even noticed that the other man had moved, such was his shock.

"It's- it's..." Barty uncharacteristically stuttered.

"Yes. Our Master offered to train you personally once you graduate." Rabastan finished for him.

Barty turned around, locking eyes with Rabastan. There was such a hungry look in the Slytherin's eyes that Barty's breath caught in his throat.

"Who would have thought," Rabastan continued, his eyes growing darker. "The little eagle that the snakes picked up a few years back would have turned out to be one of the most promising Death Eaters of our generation."

Barty could only look at the letter in his hands, still in too much shock to react. Rabastan took a step closer, his breath washing over Barty's ear.

"You impressed him in your initiation," Rabastan murmured. "You made those muggles scream so prettily when you stripped them of their skin and pulled the muscles from their bones. Our Master was most impressed that you were able to keep them alive through it all." The whispered words felt like a lover's caress and Barty shuddered.

Just thinking about that night made him itch to be back beside his Lord and Master. He dreamed about it constantly. About the glint of approval he had seen in those carmine eyes when he took the muggles' lives.

His Master had been proud of him in that moment, it was more than his father had ever been.

He would do anything in his power to see that glint again. To receive even a hint of praise from his Lord. It was the least he could do when his Lord went through the trouble of offering to train him.

"Rabastan..." He voiced breathlessly.

"My little eagle," Rabastan pushed even closer. "So smart, so eager. I can't help but wonder if you would be so eager to please me as you are to please our Master."

Barty couldn't contain a moan when Rabastan pushed him against the wall and devoured his mouth.

Eager. Yes, he was eager. Eager to leave Hogwarts and start serving his Lord as the faithful Death Eater he had become. Eager to prove his worth. Most of all he was eager to see the look on his father's face when his Lord allowed him to end his life.

But before all of that... before all of that, he was eager to see just how much pleasure Rabastan could give him.