Starter for: Mundungus Fletcher @gusfletcher Where: the Malfoy/Black wedding When: during the reception
Mundungus Fletcher seemed an unlikely invitee to this wedding. Rabastan had watched him from a distance, his eyes drawn to him like a pair of thirsty rattlesnakes. He liked the man enough, as odd as that may be. But Rabastan enjoyed people who were useful, and Fletcher had proved his worth over the years. There was no one else he would trust to buy or sell the treasures he obtained - legally or illegally. It was an unexpected alliance. It was convenient.
So he had no doubt that Fletcher was up to no good, skulking around as he was, weaving far too deeply into Malfoy Manor to be innocent. Rabastan did not especially care about the Malfoys' wellbeing, but since Cissa had just married into the family, he supposed he should put a stop to whatever was about to happen. Lingering in the shadows, he waited until Fletcher placed his hand on the handle to a locked room, then apparated swiftly inside and sat down in a high-backed chair facing the door. Champagne still in hand, he downed it and watched as the handle rattled and jiggled. For a moment, he wondered if Fletcher had given up. But then the door swung open and he lounged back as though this were the best thing to have happened all day, a look of self-satisfied mirth illuminating his features like a swelling wave.
"Hello, Fletcher. Lovely day for a crime, isn't it?" Questionable fashion sense aside, there was something else intriguing about the man's suit. Rabastan hadn't noticed it from afar. But it was starkly evident at this proximity. He gestured to it, trailing a hand through the air and getting a feel for the magic poised in front of him. "That suit is cursed, you know."