#sergei002

Vera had been, quite frankly, thriving up until now. The Conclave was a good place for her, to look pretty and make acquaintances-- she’s even managed a brief conversation with the Russian Minister’s assistant. She looked over the crowd, wondering if it would be too much to seek out the Quidditch players as she started to take a sip of her drink. The sound of a familiar voice distracted her. “I’m sorry, what?” Vera inquired, pulling her cup away from her lips.