#ceilidhevent

The thing most people didn’t understand about flirting was that is more of a muscle than an innate skill. The more he kept it up and worked at it, the better he got. Ever since his attack, and the hospital, and Regulus, Gilderoy had fallen off his routine. How could he even look at someone else like that when his whole world lay in shambles? Now... Now he was staying in London again, and he had a reputation to maintain. No one would ever match Regulus. No one could even try. But if he went back to playing without any intention of lasting results then maybe he could fake at his old normal.

He’d only just arrived at the ceilidh, hair perfectly thrice-curled and glitter suit immaculate, and already he’d gotten several admiring stares and an address pressed into his palm. Good. He still had something, then. Not everyone had forgotten him.

Nigel stuck out like a sore thumb; all sweet and awkward and clearly not quite sure what to do with himself. Gilderoy could hardly resist that.

“Hello there, darling.” He said as he strolled over to the man, smile wide. “Surely this must be the first time we’re meeting. I think I’d remember a face like yours.”

Now that Laure was staying in England, officially staying in England with Sylvanie and Gilderoy and Marcus and Zephyr; she’d taken the first job opportunity that fell into her lap. Which meant working at Dmitry Nott’s law firm. She’d never actually had a job before. At least not one that didn’t involve babysitting children (or René). She wasn’t sure what to expect.

And she certainly wasn’t sure what the protocol was on seeing your new boss in public. Was she supposed to say hello? Was she allowed to say hello? No one taught her about this in school.

“Monsieur Nott!” She said, smiling at Dmitry but mostly smiling at Lord Stair. “I did not expect to see you. Do I— is there anything I can get you?”

“You work for Moody don’t you? Surprised the overworked bastard let you have a night off. Isn’t he all about avoiding these sorts of things?”

@lazaraisedfromthedead

So it went without saying that when Gil accidentally stumbled into speaking distance of Rabastan at the ceilidh, his life flashed before his eyes. At least if he died and the Christians had it all right, he’d get to see Regulus again.

“Rabastan!” He squeaked, one hand going to fluff his hair nervously. “So, err, lovely to see you here, of all places.”