Successfully Fooled || Convo: James&Rabastian
James was still laughing at the sight of poor Edgar attempting to handle Igor and Amelia when he caught sight of the other Lestrange brother. The effects of that potion were sure as hell varied... Just when he thought he'd seen how everyone would react to it, someone else came out mooing like a cow or trying to hump another partygoer's leg.
He was lifting a flask of fire whiskey to his lips when he caught sight of a figure heading for the punch table. He didn't know the dark-clad form well, but he'd wondered about him many times.
Stepping forward before the other man could bring the punch to his lips, he said, "You... really don't wanna do that mate." When Rabastian turned to look at him in surprise, James grinned a little and said, "Just... trust me. You'll thank me later."
Rabastan snorted as he skirted around a dancing Karkaroff to stop at a table of refreshments. He desperately needed a breather from the bash, as it was well and truly in full swing now, and arguably the most insane one to date. He had been hoping for something a little stronger than the lukewarm, questionably-colored punch he was currently ladling into a glass, but it would do for now. Just as he was lifting it to his lips, a warning gave him pause.
Turning, he kept the glass in hand, though he lowered it considerably. As his eyes landed on the speaker he contained the curled lip that the blood traitor so deserved and raised a dark brow instead. Looking around, it was easy to figure out what the other man might be talking about. The partygoers had been acting crazier than normal all night. He wouldn't be surprised if there was a connection between their antics and the bright punch.
"My knight in shining... spandex," he said slowly, setting his glass back down on the table. "Though I have probably ingested much worse than spiked punch before, Potter," he finished, adjusting his flower crown with a grin.
