Verity had all the confidence Grace lacked and so it was the younger of her two present daughters that Audra felt she had to keep a closer eye on. It would be marvelous if Cassius Lestrange took a shine to one of her girls but realistically it probably wouldn't be Grace, however, stranger things had happened. More importantly, if Grace had a terrible evening it might spook her and make future social engagements all that much harder for her.

Unfortunately she had the worst seat at the table to be able to communicate effectively with Grace and so she would have to manage the evening by subtly throwing looks at Grace - hopefully her daughter wouldn't be staring at the table cloth all night. If the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor and Grace's evident embarrassment were any indication of how the evening was going to go for her she'd probably never want to leave the house again. Audra took her seat. "So how is it you came to meet my eldest, Mr. Lestrange?" Seeing as she'd only found out he'd be joining them for dinner barely an hour ago, she certainly had no idea how Ford knew him since it clearly wasn't a work thing.

---

  

---

Noble finished pouring the wine and tracked the introductions loosely. He couldn't decide how he wanted to tackle this dinner: talking seemed like a fantastic way to get himself in trouble given the circumstances, but if he didn't talk at all that was surely to be noted as weird, too. Ugh. He took his usual seat next to Grace after she dropped into it — a vague smirk appeared on Noble's face unbidden at the sound of the chair, but he was able to banish it after a second, because he couldn't be smirking. At least he wasn't going to have to talk to Lestrange much; any moment he spent occupying the seeker's attention was a moment that Verity couldn't, and therefor was likely to result in him getting smothered later.

Instead, with Mama asking Lestrange's attention, Noble very gently tapped Grace's elbow under the table, hoping to bolster her nerves a little so that she did not combust before the main course.

---

  

---

set by Bee

Ford winced slightly at the noise Grace's chair made, but tried to hide it. Maybe if everyone was just going to pretend it hadn't happened, Lestrange would ignore it too and not read it for what it was: a very obvious signal that Grace was already panicking about this, and she hadn't even managed to say one word to their guest yet. Merlin help them when it came time for her to debut. If Ford thought attending dinner parties was tedious with Verity for company, he could only imagine how much he'd hate them when it was Grace's turn. At least Clem was bound to be a little better company — assuming they actually made it to Clem's debut without ruining the whole family first, which wasn't actually a given.

Mama's question was a fairly innocuous one, with a very simple answer, but it made Ford anxious all the same. What if instead of just saying school, Lestrange got into the details of how their actual friendship had started? They had been little more than acquaintances at school — they'd been lab partners once and even while working on the same project together for weeks, Ford felt like Lestrange had barely spoken to him — so it wouldn't have been out of the realm of possibility for him to have answered with only the more recent things. What if he mentioned the night in Londonderry? Ford had never told his siblings about his hobby of tracking down Muggle spiritualists to internally ridicule them, but he had also never mentioned to Lestrange that it was sort of a secret, so he might bring it up. At the very least, Ford would be in for some teasing from his siblings. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that Verity might demand he stop, least someone else in the magical community find out and deem him eccentric, which (at least in Verity's mind if not in reality) would ruin her marriage prospects by association.

"We were yearmates at school," he said quickly, before Lestrange could say anything about haunted houses — hopefully he either wouldn't care that Ford had jumped in to answer the question, or would interpret his eagerness to do so correctly and pick up on the whole let's not talk about Derry energy that Ford was trying his best to exude. "And we see each other at the club from time to time."

The following 1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post
   Cassius Lestrange

---

Set by Lady!

Cash figured out where to sit via process of elimination, which was presumably better than needing for someone to spell it out for him. This placed him near Greengrass at the head of the table, which felt safe, and next to Greengrass' sister with the pearls, and across from the shy one. (Verity, Grace, he was spending a not-insignificant amount of energy on trying to keep the first names straight.)

He was also relieved to have Mrs. Greengrass and Ford Greengrass steering some semblance of small talk; with a starting point, he felt much more confident. He noted the lack of a Derry mention and thought with a sudden spark that probably it was for the best — he wasn't sure if either of Greengrass' sisters knew any of Cash's sisters, but he didn't want anything about muggles and Ireland circling back to his family.

"Right, the club," Cash said. He knew academically that he had been in the same year as Greengrass, but the gaps in his memory made it exceptionally difficult for Cash to place any specific memories of the other man before January. "We've been playing cards, but I wouldn't say that either of us are particularly good." He smiled, a little wry; Cash tended to do better with games involving some semblance of physical coordination.

---

  

---

MJ made this!

Grace kept her hands placed firmly on the skirt of her dress and kept her eyes down for some time, though she listened acutely to the conversation between mother, Ford, and the mysterious Mr. Lestrange. They were around the same age, saw each other from the club, liked to play cards...

"I like cards, too," she managed, surprising even herself. Granted, it was not a particularly difficult sentence to muster, and would even be considered lackluster for most up-and-coming debutantes, but to Grace—well, it was nothing short of miraculous that she'd managed to get it out with saying something along the lines of I am a card. She looked to Ford, then to mother, and then to Mr. Lestrange himself, her lips clamped shut into what she thought was a pleasant enough smile.

And then, her eyes fell right back to her plate.

---

The following 2 users Like Grace Greengrass's post:2 users Like Grace Greengrass's post
   Fortitude Greengrass, Noble Greengrass

---

Perhaps Grace wasn't as much of a deer in wandlight as she let on. "Ah, now that I think about it I'm sure I remember him mentioning you at the time." It was a small white lie but it was entirely possible he had mentioned Mr. Lestrange at some point when he'd been home from school.

Audra wanted to say something to encourage Grace to expand upon liking cards so that her contribution didn't end up buried in the conversation and leave her feeling dejected but there was a fine line between encouraging her and making her so uncomfortable she never spoke again. Perhaps now wasn't the time to go looking for that line.

---

  

---

Lestrange was playing along, which was great — making jokes about cards, which was probably not going to fool anyone at the dinner table into thinking that Ford was suave or charming or anything, but it was a nice attempt all the same. Ford had been about to chime in again when Grace had spoken, and he knew enough about her typical behavior in the presence of strange men to be shocked by this, as innocuous as the comment was. He watched as she smiled at them all, wondering if he ought to say something to encourage her or to turn this into a whole conversation in and of itself (not that there was much to say about cards, but — if Grace was going to participate surely the rest of the table could make enough of an effort to carry it through?)

Then Mama piped up again, and Ford's stomach did another nervous flip. He hadn't mentioned Lestrange before, had he? He couldn't recall having done so. Would Mama try and make something up so that she felt she had something relevant to say on the subject? The mere thought was mortifying, but it was a little better than the idea that she might actually remember something he'd said while a student at Hogwarts. Lestrange and he hadn't been friends then, and he wouldn't have said anything mean, but how humiliating would it be to have his own words from when he was twelve or fourteen thrown back at him across the table now? Suppose he'd said something like my potions partner seems a little full of himself or something like that?

His hand tightened on the stem of his wine glass. He looked off to one side and coughed lightly, wondering if it would seem too strange to change the subject so soon. He could probably manage it, only the thing that came to mind most readily was so, Lestrange, Verity is a huge fan of Quidditch which — would probably get him murdered shortly after dessert, so. Best not.

  

---

Set by Lady!

Noble was focused on trying to track the conversation, and was eating his soup a little absently, not really registering any of it. He did not actually feel hungry, was the thing, and he was again thinking that maybe he ought to have excused himself before Lestrange arrived, except now it was too late. And maybe there was something wrong with him because Grace was talking about cards, willingly, to a human man? Except Mama and Ford seemed aware of it, so that was real, too.

"Grace, do you have a favorite card game?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at her because he genuinely didn't know. This was the sort of thing it would have made sense for Lestrange to ask, maybe — but Noble was worried that if he didn't interject better he was going to lose the plot a bit. So. Cards it was.

---

The following 1 user Likes Noble Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Noble Greengrass's post
   Fortitude Greengrass

---

set by Bee

Grace stared at her plate through the exchange between Mr. Lestrange and her mother, only to be brought right back into the conversation by her brother, and - oh she did love Noble, but did he really have to make her think? She knew she liked cards, but the moment she was asked directly about it all of her knowledge about card games went right out the window, and she could not even remember the name of the one she liked. She could envision it in her head, the shuffling of the cards and the tapping them with her wand, but what in Merlin's name was the name of it?

She realized after a solid five seconds that she'd been staring blankly at her brother, so naturally she flashed the same blank stare at everyone at the table, as if they might offer the answer for her, before her eyes landed on Mr. Lestrange and it finally clicked.

"Oh - exploding snap!" she said, a bit too excitedly, only to realize that her voice had echoed in the small dining room. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink. "Oh - I like Écarté, too." If only she'd thought of that first.

---

  

---

When Greengrass' brother interjected Cash was trying to figure out whether or not he ought to remember Greengrass better from their school days. Normally Belphoebe only picked at specific memories, but sometimes there were little gaps missing, a few weeks or a month that he could remember only surface facts about — it was very possible that notable moments with Greengrass were somewhere in that window, and there was no way for him to actually ask about that.

He was startled into a smile and out of the gloomy train of thought at the mention of exploding snap. There was a faint flush to Miss Grace Greengrass' cheeks, now, but with her voice jostling Cash out of his own head he could hardly hold it against her. "I'm fond of those myself," Cash said, "Also hearts, but you need, three players for it, usually."

---

  

---

MJ made this!

Ford wasn't sure whether Noble's question was intended to be kind, trying to make an in-road for Grace to participate in more of the conversation and bolster her confidence, or mean, putting her on the spot like that. It was an innocent question, and if they had been alone with just family Ford wouldn't have given it a second thought. The way Grace reacted, though, made it clear that she was not at all prepared to deal with such difficult follow-on questions as what games do you like. She just stared at Noble, and Ford had to resist the urge to lean forward and put his head in his hands so that he didn't have to keep watching. He took a few bites of soup so that he would have something to do while he waited for her to come up with something, so that it might be a little less obvious that everyone at the table was just waiting for her to speak.

And Lestrange was a fucking saint, because he responded without even acting like he'd noticed the too-long pause. Ford smiled warmly, feeling a rush of relief so strong that he honestly could have hugged the other man had they not both been seated at the table. "Well, we'll have more than three able hands tonight," he pointed out. "Maybe we could play a game after dinner." Maybe if Grace had cards to focus on, she would handle it a little better. At the very least, if she went a long time without saying anything it could be attributed to having to concentrate on the game instead of making it look like she was stupid.

The rest of the soup course passed uneventfully, with suitable small talk being achieved without any more far-too-long pauses, and Ford's trepidation about this entire evening was shrinking somewhat by the time the entree arrived.

"My sisters are also fond of music," Ford said conversationally to Lestrange. He felt confident enough by now to reintroduce Grace to the conversation, though he was certain that if she felt unable to it Verity would have no trouble leading on this point. "Verity plays piano and Grace has a lovely singing voice. And we all went to the Sonata last month — were you there?" he asked. He thought he'd seen Lestrange at one point, but he couldn't be sure (and he had been rather distracted, besides). It seemed as though he ought to make some sort of connection between this conversation point and his guest, but was aware that this was a little tenuous. Plenty of people were at the Sonata who didn't care for music, he assumed; there just weren't many other things to do in the middle of February.

  

---

Set by Lady!

Cards after dinner might just get Grace to open up a little more. Maybe. She was a little concerned when Ford mentioned music, specifically Grace's singing. If anyone asked her to sing she thought Grace might be frightened off completely. Thankfully he seemed to be steering things in another direction, although that didn't meant Mr. Lestrange wouldn't feel obliged to comment on how much he'd like to hear them play and sing.

"It was quite evening, wasn't it?" she said rather blandly, hoping to just keep the conversation steering towards that and away from piano and singing.

---

  

---

Grace smiled at Mr. Lestrange in a way that expressed that she wanted to reply but she couldn't find the words. She couldn't just ask to play cards, could she? Well, she supposed she could, but she'd have to find the courage to do so and she didn't think it existed. Mr. Lestrange - as magical royalty, as Verity has phrased it - might not want to play cards with her, since she was just a girl and he was a famous quidditch player with a fancy last name.

It was much easier to focus on the Sonata, because it would hopefully distract anyone from asking her to sing. She shot Ford a helpless glance at the mention of her voice, because by saying that he opened up the opportunity for her to perform and she wouldn't be able to bear it.

---

  

---

This was different than a Lestrange dinner for a few reasons — for one thing, no clear patriarch (or, Greengrass was the patriarch, which was weird), for another, there were no family members for him to avoid. Cash found himself a little more at ease than he would have expected by the main course.

Cash nodded. "I went with my sister Valeria," he said, which had been odd in and of itself, because he and Valeria did not hang out recreationally. "But I have to confess that I could have paid a little more attention — it was just fairly long, and unlike your sisters I have no musical talents of my own." He had decided at some point after the Sonata that pretending it was just too long for his attention span was a safer admission than I think the sound of violins makes me panic, and didn't have enough to say about the contortionists to lean on that. So instead — he could lean on expectations people had of him, that he was too fidgety and nervous to sit still for four hours (which he was.)

---

  

---

MJ made this!

Ford had, if anything, been paying far too much attention at the Sonata, and he didn't know how anyone could have watched it without finding themselves captivated by the acrobats and contortionists. He found himself glancing at Noble before he could think better of it, remembering their conversation afterwards, but of course he wasn't going to say anything about that at the dinner table. After discussing it with Noble, he'd decided to just hope both of his sisters had somehow remained entirely oblivious to the performance, and if he said anything about it now he was probably going to have to disillusion himself on that point, and he didn't want to.

"Well, I think you can be forgiven for that," he said with an easy smile. "Since you have so many other talents no one else at this table has. Noble didn't play Quidditch either," he explained, though Lestrange probably already knew that. There wasn't really much of an age gap between Ford and his brother, and from what he remembered from school everyone who played Quidditch tended to sort of gravitate towards each other regardless of age differences.

  

---

Set by Lady!

As they passed from the soup course into dinner, Noble became a little more concerned with the situation. By rights, the soup and time should have combined to have him feeling more like himself, but they hadn't. Things were more dire than he'd thought. He was going to have to take note of this later, because it was not promising for the state of his business.

He'd spent his workday mostly on inventory and an experiment. He'd been busy recreating the Draught of Peace which he had sold to Mr. Crouch, and which had apparently sent Mrs. Crouch into a coma. Fifteen minutes before coming into the sitting room earlier Noble had taken a microdose of the recreated potion. Things could be weird, with these relaxation potions, when you were trying not to sleep — but with his build and the size of the dosage, Noble had expected to be over things by the main course of dinner at most.

This was not the case. For the last five or so minutes, he'd felt vaguely as if he was levitating somewhere six inches above his body, like he was watching himself go through the motions of eating and not tasting it.

His eyebrows quirked at Ford; he'd heard Noble but hadn't been able to parse the rest of it, so was hoping that raising his eyebrows worked enough as a response.

---

The following 1 user Likes Noble Greengrass's post:1 user Likes Noble Greengrass's post
   Fortitude Greengrass

---

set by Bee