Sticky Finger Tango | Closed
untamedmeadowes:
“My problem is what are you doing with those things?” Dorcas retorted, continuing to trail Nilam through the upstairs hallways. Yes, she was a member of the Order and yes she had of course been invited to the party – they all had been, at least as far as Dorcas knew, from inner circle to information courier. She had a feeling that Mundungus Fletcher was going to turn up at any moment – but apparently they didn’t need Mundungus; someone else was taking care of the prerequisite pilfering…probably.
She wasn’t entirely sure; Nilam was being very open about what she was grabbing, which didn’t seem like the behavior of a thief – but if she wasn’t stealing, what was she doing? On the other hand, how stupid would the witch have to be to steal from the Potter Estate tonight, when it was full of guests. If she’d really wanted to rob the place, she could have done so any day; it wasn’t as though anybody kept a particularly close eye on anyone else in the Order (except Mundungus, for obvious reasons) to stop them making off with the silver…or whatever it was Nilam was collecting.
Nilam finally stopped, but only for a moment and not in the way Dorcas had hoped. She scowled and retorted, “If holding my hand will stop you taking things that don’t belong to you, it’s a sacrifice I’d be willing to make!” Dorcas didn’t want to jump to the wrong conclusion or to unkindly prejudge someone new to the Order the way people did her, but it was hard to see another explanation for Nilam’s actions.
She desperately wanted to, though – because what would she do if one didn’t present itself? Draw her wand on Nilam? The last thing Dorcas wanted to do was start a fight with another Order member, especially over a situation she wasn’t sure she understood. Run to James and tattle? That possibility seemed almost less palatable than the fighting. “What are you up to?”
“They do belong to me!” That was not exactly true but they were a family heirloom...that had to count for something.
If Niliam was a Black...and she wasn’t. That was also a problem but Regulus was trying not to twist the names around her head too much. She squared her shoulders, “I’m being a good guest, that’s what I am doing.”
What would be a distraction... Well, Regulus thought hand-holding was perhaps the most distracting, uncomfortable thing in the world. If Dorcas Meadows was going to lean into that line of questioning, Regulus Black was going to do it.
“Here.” She shoved her hand in Dorcas’ like that was at all a normal thing to do, like it didn’t make her skin crawl with the feeling of no, absolutely not, and then she tugged. “You are worse than a Lestrange and now everyone is staring for no good reason.”
Choices: try to throw Doracs Meadows over a banister... or make a deal.
When you had nothing to deal with.
Maybe hexing was also an option?

















