Who: Open
Where: Ministry of Magic Spring Gala
Caradoc didnât like going to big events anymore. Even if the war was over and they were at peace, there was still an unsettling feeling that crept into him every time he was in a room full of people he didnât know. For all he knew, he was in the room with his captors. Heâd know by their voices, potentially, but even the thought of being paces from them was enough to make his stomach turn.
He went for Emmeline, that was why he did most things recently. If it wasnât for her, he probably wouldnât have made it back to London at all. He would have much rather stayed in Wales with Ophelia and Ellie, reading books, and taking walks by the water.
Now he was here in an itchy suit, holding a beverage he wouldnât drink, and making small talk with people he didnât care to hold a conversation with. He stayed against the wall, watching the room, for someone he knew or perhaps, someone he didnât. He raised his cup to his lips to take a hesitant sip, then paused at the smell. âOkay, I have no idea what this is, but that doesnât smell normal.â He said it aloud to himself, which was concerning perhaps, but made better when he realised he had an audience. âIs it supposed to smell like that?â
Rabastan had kept moving since he stepped foot into the party, falling easily into who he was before all the nastiness of war. He didnât think twice about grabbing the cup from the mans hands and inhaling with a half amused look on his face that quickly vanished as the aroma hit him.
He set the cup aside, suppressing a fake gag. His jokes, always working as an icebreaker between him and maybe people who don't think favorably of him or his family. Any other night, maybe a even just a few months ago Rab wouldnât have thought twice about setting someone elseâs nerves above his own. âNothing is ever suppose to smell like that. That is-â He pauses, glancing at the offending beverage briefly. â-foul. whoever made that for you may be trying to poison you.â
