Verity had come to several conclusions throughout the course of dinner. The foremost being the dreadful fact that standing besides Grace at various events would be a fate worse than death. How could anyone be sitting besides a sure ticket out of their middle class life and say something as foolish as 'I like cards'?! Grace ought to have challenged him to a game or engaged him in any other discussion than her random interjections and clumsiness.

She fell quiet as the subject drifted to quidditch. Nothing about the sport appealed to her — in fact, if not for  Mr. Lestrange's status Verity wouldn't have paid him a second thought. However, he was a Lestrange — the last eligible Lestrange — and she had to at least try.

Which she was determined to do until she noticed the faraway look in Noble's eyes. Merlin, was none of her family capable of acting in an acceptable manner? Perhaps this was why Father hadn't allowed her to debut, perhaps he recognized how disastrous any events would be.

"Congratulations on becoming captain," she added, remembering that one tidbit from the gossip mills. "Such a position certainly requires more than athletic talents. An affinity for leadership, for one."

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   Cassius Lestrange, Fortitude Greengrass

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set by mj

Ford had been expecting more engagement from Noble on this. He'd been in flying club at Hogwarts, so he had at least that much more athleticism in him than Ford did; he ought to have been at least twice as capable as Ford was of making small talk on the subject of Quidditch. Ford had gotten through a lengthy card game in the club and a whole night in Derry without making himself look too foolish, and Noble apparently couldn't muster up even one appropriate comment. Ford frowned, with his mouth scrunched slightly to one side, and raised his eyebrows back in a way that meant he'd really been hoping for a little more than that. If Noble had been seated closer, he might have kicked him lightly to try and figure out what was going on, because he definitely seemed out of it and this really wasn't the time.

Verity to the rescue, though. If even Verity had found something appropriately complimentary to say about Quidditch then Ford felt his disappointment with Noble was justified. He smiled briefly at his sister, then gave Noble another what's up with you? look.

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   Cassius Lestrange

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Set by Lady!

The fact that the last few minutes of conversation had not been disastrous had been almost miraculous. Perhaps she was not the worst; if she could talk to magical royalty than she could surely speak to any other gentleman who looked her way - and Mr. Lestrange had looked her way, if only for a moment, and he'd smiled and she'd smiled and she escaped that topic of conversation without making a fool of herself.

But then Verity went and talked about quidditch, demonstrating how much better at conversation in general she was. Grace took a breath and felt a disappointed shudder wash through her body upon exhaling. Maybe she should just shut up and let Verity talk. Everyone would prefer that - and wouldn't she? Truly?

She sat back in her chair, her fork in hand and her eyes on her lap once again, trying to figure out what she could add to the conversation.

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The following 3 users Like Grace Greengrass's post:3 users Like Grace Greengrass's post
   Cassius Lestrange, Fortitude Greengrass, Verity Swann

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Audra found herself stealing glances at Noble and Grace's side of the table which had grown rather quiet, abnormally so she thought. Grace was to be expected but Noble was hardly afflicted with timidity as she was, he almost looked as though he was so bored he was imagining himself elsewhere. If he wasn't careful their guest would notice his faraway look and Grace staring down at her lap and feel insulted by the pair of them and really he was likely to notice any moment given that he was sat directly across from them. At least Verity and Ford were perfectly capable of being distracting but short of rendering the man blind it wouldn't work for long.

Audra leaned in to the table as discreetly as she could so that she could reach her hand out far enough to smack the side of Noble's leg. "Grace, you've been wanting to attend a quidditch match for a while now, haven't you?" It was an utter fabrication, she'd scrambled for some sort of relevant comment she could make to get Grace's eyeline back to where it should be. In fairness, she thought she'd caught Grace gazing at a broomstick in the window of a quidditch shop the other week for an ordinately long time so it wasn't entirely impossible that her daughter might have a quiet interest in the sport. No matter what Grace really felt, all she needed to was agree and perhaps add an adverb and an adjective, that wouldn't be too much for her surely? She kept her eyes on Grace in the hopes of establishing some reassuring eye contact.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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Cash was much better suited to talking about Quidditch than he was about music, and was a little relieved to be talking about it. This could be just like talking about Quidditch with Seneca — probably without the added layer of 'well what are you doing after' — and trying to simplify it for unmarried women (who were not a little too into it, like Cecily Gallivan) was a bit of a habit for him.

"Oh, thank you, it's very new," Cash said mildly, to Miss Verity's comment; he was smiling, but it was a little sheepish, like he was embarrassed by it, although he wasn't really — this was just a facial expression he used when talking about Quidditch with Seneca to disarm her, and he was bringing it out again by habit. "But I suppose you're right, about leadership skills? I have to keep an eye on what everyone else is doing and where they can improve, while also — executing on my own job."

He also couldn't say rude things about his teammates in their earshot, or slide into apathy as he was prone to doing. Honestly, sometimes Cash thought he was waiting on the other shoe to drop on this — for the captaincy, for his ability to be at little dinner parties with other people's family or even to be friends with people who weren't Angie, for his whatever with Theodore Gallivan.

He should address what Mrs. Greengrass had said, too; he directed the same smile at Miss Grace. In a half-joking tone, he added, "Well if you are interested, I am biased towards the Cannons."

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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MJ made this!

If Verity's eloquent segue into the conversation of quidditch had been enough to put a damper on Grace's confidence, the way he replied - in so many words, more words than he'd spoken to her the whole time - was enough to devastate her entirely. But there was little time to focus on her own social failures when Mama mentioned that she'd been wanting to go to a quidditch match, and she'd already opened her mouth to respond, but then Mr. Lestrange - ever kind, ever tolerant of her - crackled a joke and Grace's mouth snapped shut before a giggle escaped through her lips.

"That's the orange team, right?" she asked, but through searching through her own memories she confirmed that yes, they were the orange team, but also that she probably shouldn't have called them that to an actual quidditch player. "I think I remember seeing some of their players on the roster for the World Cup," she said, less to Mr. Lestrange and more a vocalization of her own thought process. "Do you know any of them?" She thought he might, and now she'd gotten thinking so her curiosity was beating out her insecurities.

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

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Ford didn't really understand Mama's tactic of bringing Grace into the middle of the conversation about Quidditch — if Noble was not willing to pull his weight here, he was sure that Grace wasn't going to be any more up to the task, so really they ought to just leave this to Verity. Lestrange was already answering Verity's question, though, so maybe Grace wouldn't be called upon to say anything at all and they could just let the whole thing slide on unnoticed. Or maybe Grace could get away with just a smile and a nod at whatever Lestrange said next, and that would be good enough to carry them through until the next topic. It wasn't that Ford didn't want Grace to participate — he wanted her to feel comfortable talking to people more than anything. He knew that she was clever and funny and sweet and kind, and he wished that other people saw that, too, rather than just seeing Graceless Greengrass. He just didn't think Quidditch was the right topic; they'd steer back towards something in a minute that she would have a little stabler footing on, and then she'd have a chance again.

But then the most unexpected thing happened: Lestrange made a joke in Grace's direction, and she giggled. Ford couldn't help but stare, for a moment forgetting about whatever was going on with Noble and his gratitude towards Verity for finding it in herself to compliment Quidditch and his confusion with Mama's strategy for this dinner. Grace had just giggled, and Ford had never seen her that comfortable talking to a gentleman, never. And yes, maybe she called the Cannons the orange team, and yes, she had just asked Lestrange if he knew any World Cup players when he had been in the World Cup, and yes, Verity was probably quietly losing her mind about Grace having asked such a stupid question, but still. This was the most Grace had ever said to a stranger, as far as Ford knew, and she looked so like herself all of the sudden, in a way she seldom did whenever anyone outside the family was around.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, which was rude he supposed, but he was too eager not to let this moment slip away to care. He needed to catch this momentum and keep it building, so he had to jump in. Verity might have derailed Grace entirely, with just an offhand comment or a withering look. Lestrange might have entirely crushed her, too, without even meaning to — for all that he had been a saint all through dinner so far, he probably didn't really understand how fragile Grace could be. And Noble — was not going to be any help at the moment, clearly.

"Mr. Lestrange played in the World Cup match against Morocco," he said helpfully, to Grace. With a hopeful glance at Lestrange, he continued, "I'm sure he'd love to tell you about it."

Well, some parts of it, anyway. Hopefully he left out the bit about the woman dying in the stands.

  

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Set by Lady!

Everyone was looking at him, and Noble could not figure out why, except — oh, they were talking about Quidditch. He could have contributed to a conversation about Quidditch. They seemed to be doing fine, though, even if Mama had smacked his leg under the table. Noble took a sip of his wine. Focus. He was doing a terrible job of focusing, but he glanced between a surprisingly-talkative Grace and Ford and decided that he was glad that they were doing fine. Maybe he should try to get an awakening potion, or something, to draw him out of it? That could work — he just couldn't slip away from the table right now.

He glanced at Ford with an expression that tried to convey everything is fine, sorry. Everything was not fine, but Ford didn't need to know about it.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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set by Bee

Although the family had been in mourning still throughout the last year, Verity paid enough attention to the World Cup to ensure any future conversations could be held with grace. Something her siblings — with the exclusion of Ford maybe — seemed to have deemed unimportant. (Really, what was going on with Noble?! Surely, a man who took part of a flying club would have a minimal interest in quidditch at least!) Verity internally screamed in frustration whilst maintaining a pleasant expression. Couldn't Grace just keep quiet and allow those capable to pull the family through dinner?

Obviously not. The girls would all need an in-depth quidditch lesson after this dinner.

She pointedly stared at Ford's elbows for a moment, her eyes screaming at him to stop being rude to his friend and sit politely. Ford couldn't abandon her, too. Not when Grace was giggling like a child and Noble was pretending he was anywhere but there. Mama was helpful, of course, but she was also often unreliable at times. (The encounter with Mrs. Devine still haunted Verity.)

"Some of your Cannon teammates were on the national team as well, I believe." She said, realizing a beat too late the only one she knew of was that MacFusty man who killed the woman.

  

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set by mj

Cash's mouth twitched a little with amusement at the orange team, and luckily Greengrass saved him from having to find a way to respond to the bit about the national team. Of course, the thing with Morocco was that a woman had died — and that he'd lost — and that several of his teammates had found themselves literally kneecapped through the game. But he could find something else to say about it, sure. And even Cash had circled around to recognize that Greengrass' brother was being sort of weird, with his whole silent expressions thing. Whatever, he could talk about Quidditch, and hopefully not even bring up the dead person.

"Yes, two of them," he said, with a nod, "Neither of them — well, neither of them play for us anymore." Cardew wasn't his captain anymore, obviously, and Lachlan MacFusty had had some sort of breakdown (maybe?) and retired (was that the word?) after he accidentally murdered a woman. "Morocco was interesting to play against, though. And it's always neat to have, uh, visitors to Britain." Sure, that was neutral and not-about-death enough.

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MJ made this!

Ford was momentarily distracted by Noble's look, which he thought was trying to look vaguely reassuring. What would have been much more reassuring was if Noble offered some relevant contribution to the conversation, because at this point Ford was worried Lestrange was going to think his brother was even more socially inept than Grace. He hadn't offered a full sentence up since they'd switched to the entree course, which was definitely unlike him. It wasn't as though Ford could force him to contribute though, if mentioning him specifically by name hadn't done it. Not without making it obvious to everyone that he was calling Noble out, which he didn't want to do.

He could feel Verity glaring at him, though when he glanced over it took half a second to realize why. Oh, elbows. Right. He reached down to adjust his napkin in his lap, so that he could move them off the table without making it obvious and therefore calling more attention to them in the first place. "Did you get to interact much with them off the pitch?" he asked Lestrange, just to keep the conversation going until Grace worked up the nerve to say something again. "Did you prefer the Moroccans or the Hawaiians?"

  

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Set by Lady!

They were talking about the Quidditch World Cup, now, and Noble knew he was by far the Greengrass sibling most knowledgeable about Quidditch. If he could focus on anything but tracking the conversation, he would have been able to bail them out — but that seemed a little impossible right now. Alright, fuck this — he was going to go get an awakening potion and come back and be normal, and maybe he would just be up all night, but at least he would be able to converse like a normal person. (He was being outdone by Grace! This was as exciting as it was an indicator of the direness of the situation.)

Noble eased back in his seat with the intention of getting up to go to his workshop and grab one of those potions. But for the first time in his life he fainted, slumping backwards in his seat.

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   Fortitude Greengrass, Ursula Black

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set by Bee

Grace's confidence slipped way at the revelation that Mr. Lestrange was on the British National Team, because surely now he thought her a fool. The pink tint of her cheeks was more noticeable than any smile she could muster, so she stayed silent, replaying her words in her mind with an occasional stupid girl thrown in there for maximum self-deprecation. At least her siblings had taken over the conversation, asking Mr. Lestrange questions so he might not address her own - and, thankfully, he mentioned nothing about an orange team.

Her eyes were back on her plate, but her gaze flickered to Ford and Verity as they asked questions of and replied to Mr. Lestrange. She finally spared a glance to her right, where Noble had been uncommonly quiet - only to find that he was slumped backwards and looked unresponsive. She leaned over, and, unable to do so subtly, grabbed his upper arm and gave him a little shake. "Noble?" she asked quietly, inquiringly, and then, more alarmedly, "Noble!?"

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Ford had been spending the last five minutes looking at Noble as often as he was looking at anyone else, because he was still trying to figure out what was going on with him, which meant he saw the moment it happened. He didn't really understand for half a second, and thought Noble was still just being weird — why was he pushing his head back like that? What was on the ceiling that was so damn interesting? — but then he realized that this was very not normal, and something was wrong.

He stood up too fast, one hand jutting out like there was anything he could do (though if he had been in reach he probably would have only done the same thing Grace was doing now, shaking his arm), but all he managed was to knock his wine glass over into Lestrange's lap.

"Shit," he swore under his breath, too distracted to care that Mama and the girls were here and would have heard him swear. He tossed his napkin down to the table and moved behind Grace's chair so that he could get to Noble to try and figure out what was wrong, not bothering to apologize to Lestrange before he did.

  

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Set by Lady!

Verity would have happily continued discussing quidditch if it meant preventing the next chain of events.

First, Noble seemed poised to stand before slumping back into his seat, his head flopping back like that of a dead fish. Then, Grace was panicking, rightfully so, but the fact remained that they had guests! The panic and alarm rippling through the table could have been managed were it not for the cup of wine Ford might as well have poured into Mr. Lestrange's lap.

Mr. Lestrange was soaked in wine.

Positive that everyone else would be attending to Noble, Verity reached for the nearest napkin besides her own and handed them to Mr. Lestrange. She thought frantically of something to say that didn't alert anyone to her own rising panic (because Noble was fine!) and fell short. "Perhaps we should step into the parlor?" She suggested to Mr. Lestrange and stood to do just so. "Grace? We should give them space."

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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set by mj

Oh, there was something wrong with Greengrass' brother. His head tilted back into unconsciousness and Cash could only stare for a second. The sudden feeling of liquid on his trousers shook him out of it, and he accepted Miss Verity's napkin almost on automatic, pressing the fabric to the puddle of wine on his trousers. He dabbed it out, thinking.

Miss Verity was trying to remove him from the situation and Ford was shaking his brother, and so was Miss Grace. Cash wasn't terrible in a crisis — he had an actually solid memory of relocating Eli's shoulder — and unconsciousness wasn't actually terrible, normally, for all that the Greengrasses were freaking out.

He stood up at Miss Verity's suggestion. "Do you have smelling salts?" Cash asked her, with a vague head tilt towards her unconscious brother, "Any of you."

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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MJ made this!