Hestia was wandering around the Great Hall, her eyes scanning her surroundings as she debated on whether or not to go up to Amelia. In her absentminded state, she didn’t see Remus racing toward the snack table and the two collided, making her lose her balance for a brief moment before she stabilized herself. Dusting her dress off shortly, Hestia hummed and looked up at him. Even with a mask on, his features were unmistakeable. “Why am I not surprised?” she retorted.
Masks don’t always hide much, so when he sees the person he nearly knocked over is Hestia, he just smirks at her. For a moment, he’s at a loss for what to say, then the words begin to flow out of him effortlessly: “Were you not impressed with my grand entrance? I am really rather offended, Miss Jones,” he says, the smirk ever present as he reaches for something drizzled in chocolate. “Oh,” he says, turning back to her with a more serious expression. He carefully lifts his coat to show her his empty pockets, then takes a bite of the dessert. “No alcohol,” he says as he chews, smiling to himself.














