FALLEN KING.

She should’ve known better, the reminder repeating itself within her head as she’d spoken the words to him. Yet, judgement remained clouded by the champagne and the lights, sparkling as the music continued to drown out any and all fears that would’ve crawled beneath her heart. What she would’ve given for Ana to be here if only to have a go at Mary for being an asshat towards one of her nearest and dearest, that thought alone frightened her. “One dance.” It’s a firm reaffirmation, a reminder that she shouldn’t have asked in the first place. Yet, her gaze catches that of Amos’ for a mere moment before returning to Sebastians. Given the chance, Mary was certain Amos would’ve spent the better part of the evening talking her ear off and asking about the Quidditch season, discussing strategies and the like. It’d been enough of a horror to drive her to drink. “At least we’ can both agree the pleasure’s yours.” It’s said with baited breath, a low mumble only audible to the pair of them as she snakes her arm into that of his own. “I might as well warn you now, I’m a bloody awful dancer. Two left feet and all.” Her confession is followed by a laughter, smaller than need be as she wraps arm around his neck. Allowing a moment to pass before she continues. “So, why no date Fawley? From what I’ve read in Witch Weekly, and heard from Ana, you can be quite the ladies man.”

With no one else to amuse him and bring out his brighter side rather than the one that liked to dwell upon bitter thoughts of his family and the connotations of what this meant for him, he was grateful that at least he had encountered Macdonald, lest he decided to leave the whole event and be reprimanded by Ana when she next found him, drinking away his sorrows. “Perhaps another if we are successful.” He corrected, a false apologetic look upon his features as he caught the look upon Amos’s features as they had begun to dance with one another, knowing the other had more than likely wanted to ask Mary for a dance. “Of course it is, but you owe me for allowing you to avoid Diggory, Macdonald.” He replied evenly, a small smirk widening upon his features as he began to lead her in their dance, moving through the throng of couples upon the floor as he began to spin them in time with the music. “No matter, I’ll lead us through and I’m sure you’ll enjoy this by the time we’re finished.” He continued, as his arms slightly tightened around her petite waist, as a small chuckle began to escape his lips at the thought of a date. “Who needs a date to affairs such as these? After all, if I had a date, I wouldn’t be able to have such a lovely dance with the likes of you Ms Macdonald.”

She’d allow herself to believe it to be simple boredom. Somewhere within the crowd and the dancing, she’d managed to lose Alice. Most likely to Frank, wondering if they’d simply left early to find a bar to snog in, or a tree to sit beneath and profess one another’s undying love to one another. Where it ached in Mary’s chest to feel as though she’d never truly been worthy of such a thing, it also allowed slight disgust to rattle within her stomach at the mere thought. Twice now she’d found herself subjected to dancing with the groomsmen who’d insisted she’d been much too pretty to simply sit alone. However, it was alone that Mary felt most comfortable, it was alone in which Mary found  herself the most at home. For, even now, as the midnight air washed over her and the stars themselves served as lanterns, she’d felt suffocated. A light chuckle escapes her lips at the mere thought he’d suggested. “If I’ve got to convince you, then you’ve already lost my interest Fawley.” She deadpans her words, nonchalant in their delivery. “Just the words a bird wants to hear, how charming of you.” Her words are sharp against the air between them, shaking her head as loosened curls wave across exposed shoulders. “At least you can make yourself useful –– “ Eyes peer towards man approaching, feeling her words get caught within her throat  as she finds that of his own once more. “Dance with me, I don’t think I have it in me to handle another round with Diggory.”

With Ana nowhere to be found, (most likely she was bickering with Evan yet again, or flirting — whatever moods that they had found themselves in), Sebastian had found himself rather bored with no company by his side. And whilst he was no stranger to being alone, as he watched the happy couples dance upon the dancefloor and the pureblooded heirs mingling with one another, a small taste of bitterness arose upon his tongue. It was for that reason, he found himself unknowingly delighted to have company such as Macdonald by his side; even if they never found themselves doing anything but insulting one another, something that he found more bemusing rather than irritating that he knew most of his peers would react; especially from a muggleborn such as Mary. A small chuckle escaping his lips he rolled his eyes at her deadpan words, he revealed a flask from his pocket that contained some of his favourite whiskey, and one that Ana often would steal from him when they were together. “Well, I suppose I could do this bird a favour and give her a dance, and pour her a drink after said dance.” He replied as he placed back within his pocket and extended an arm for her to take as he remarked, “Will you give me the pleasure of having this dance, Ms Mcdonald?”

She’d been certain there was something wrong with her. The second she’d realized she’d felt something less than happy for the couple, the newly mounted Macmillans and their would be fortune to come. Happiness, it had seemed to her, was subjective. She’d played the part well, allowing her lips to curl into an uncharacteristically cheerful smile at the sight of them and congratulating as dutiful as possible. However, with a war looming and the pleasant reminder of death lurking ‘round every corner, there was a monster who’d finally settled within her stomach.  It’s Sebastian’s vocals that drown out the sound of celebration, a heaving sigh escaping her as he finds himself at her side. For Merlin knows what reasons, he’d weaseled his way once again closer to her if only to pester. He’d served only as a reminder of years passed, of Mulciber and his grip on her soul, of torment and cruelty in which she’d finally inflicted upon the lot of them. “And why’s that? I’ve only come because I heard it was a free for all at the bar, and well I just couldn’t resist.” Her shoulders roll into a soft shrug as hands grip ‘round champagne flute, downing the drink in one swift gulp. “Low and behold, I should’ve known they’d hide the goods and only serve us this goblin piss.” Her eyes roll, finally allowing herself to glance at the man in her company. “What I’m wonderin’ is why it is you’re here, or more so in front of me. Mckinnon not giving you enough attention is it?”

Avoiding the rather unnecessary pleasantries with most of the crowd, Sebastian had found himself standing underneath a rather broad tree that provided shade from the warm sun that seemed to smile upon the fortunate affair of this wedding; rather the opposite of his whole mood. Having attended because of the insistence of his ex-girlfriend Anastasiya who had pleaded for his company because of her abhorrence for the company of their peers coupled together with her irritation at England weather as an affair altogether, here he was at this wedding; whilst it seemed she was not. And so as he found himself by Mcdonald’s side, a rather large smirk found its way to his lips as she never failed to bring amusement in her remarks, how his parents would turn in early graves if they were to see him right now. “Perhaps I could be convinced to help you discover the better quality alcohol.” He hummed as he shifted his stance to fold his arms across his chest before chuckling at her words to reply, “Unfortunately not, so I had to drag myself here to you to get more said attention, and here I am.” Untrue, but Ana wasn’t here to keep him company as of now, so Mcdonald would have to do.

His fingers wrapped about a glass of champagne, Sebastian took a long sip of his drink as he ignored the whispers and murmurs that occurred whenever he appeared in events such as this. He had once been crowned Prince, the most ideal heir for the Fawley family — one who was absolutely drenched in dark magic and the potential for more, and yet here he was; the black sheep and utter disgrace to pureblood circles. And yet, he couldn’t find himself to care about their opinions like he once had. He had found himself disgusted at the unjust society, and the way muggleborns and halfbloods were treated, although he himself wasn’t even trusted to be their champion, to defend them because of the actions that he had once committed. Finishing with his glass, he placed it loudly with a thunk upon the table adjacent to him as his eyes set through the crowds to find her, the one person who never failed to bring some sort of emotion to arise from his dark heart apart from disgust and disinterest. A small smirk appearing upon his features, he slipped easily through the crowds as he found himself by Mary’s side to utter, “A rather grand affair, isn’t it Macdonald? I’m almost surprised to find the likes of you here.”