 Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Mrs. Charlie Weasley | Seneca's Beard | That's So Fetch
Dante was, needless to say, over all the Quidditch hype. It wasn't the sport necessarily that was putting him in a mood, but rather the load of people that the event had brought in. His duties at the Ministry had increased due to certain folk being willynilly with magic, the guest rooms at the Zabini manor were full of family members, and everywhere he went he couldn't seem to evade someone who deemed themselves a sports fanatic. It all at this point made him want nothing more than a glass of firewhisky and some solitude.
But apparently the last desire of his was too much to ask for.
What normally was a quieter establishment, the Obliviator couldn't help but notice that there were more faces than usual. The goblins didn't phase him as he expected such a place would be ideal for their shady whisperings. For that reason, he ignored them. Though the presence of the magic-folk like him was arguably worth being curious about and did earn them each a brief look.
The man, however, didn't have a care in the world to engage any further. So he simply ordered himself the firewhisky he had shown up for and found himself a seat at the far end of the bar.
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