December 31st, 1887. Baxter's Promotion Party.

@"Elsie Beauregard"

Usually he spent New Year's Eve with Eli. Almost every turn of the year for the past several, Cash knew that he had spent New Year's Eve with Eli. But now Eli was dead and he was standing at the edge of this party, fiddling with his cufflinks. There was a distinct ache in his chest instead of the stark nothing he had felt recently. This wasn't, really, an improvement.

Eli was dead and there was almost no physical evidence that they had ever been together, except for Cash's tattered memories and the objects he hid in his room. But now, tonight, he knew that he ought to be with Eli and instead he was here, increasingly miserable and pretending that he cared about who ran the hospital. It didn't matter. None of it really mattered.

He was probably looking increasingly dismal when he saw her, and remembered, far-off, that he ought to be talking to her. Cash fixed his face in a more neutral expression and sidled up to Miss Abercrombie.

"Miss Abercrombie," he said, "Fancy seeing you here."

This wasn't right. He ought to be with Eli.

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MJ made this!

The event for the hospital, though still not comfortable, was at least for charity. That was one thing helping to get Nora through the evening, though she would still much rather be home with her books. There was also champagne, which was a bonus and Nora cradled a flute in hand as she surveyed the crowd at large. She knew her dance card was getting full and that she should probably take a turn or two to relieve some of the list, but honestly she wasn't ready to try that again just yet. Her last dance had not gone very well and earned her a very critical glance from her mother across the room.

Taking a sip of her champagne, she was caught halfway through by Mr. Lestrange's greeting. Nora hadn't seen him coming and to hasten her own reply she swallowed the champagne too fast and felt the bubbles come back up toward her nose. She held her hand in front of her nose to ease the sensation, but was very close to sneezing. Thankfully the action kept at bay and she turned a flushed smile toward Mr. Lestrange.

"Fancy seeing you here." She managed to counter, though nowhere near as witty as she would have liked it to be, given her previous state. Nora was quite pleased to see him however, she had read a book or two by the author he'd mentioned when they last spoke and she would enjoy discussing the stories with him! "I hope you're well?" It was a mundane way to begin the conversation, but she couldn't exactly just jump right into novels!

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I lost my other post with sunwolves, so wee new!post sorry!

  

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This was, predictably, small talk - this was what you did when you were at a party with a girl. So Cash flashed a smile at her, his brightest Quidditch player-est smile, despite being solidly morose. He didn't want to be here. But Cash suspected that she didn't want to be here, either -- and that made all the difference.

"I've been well," he said diplomatically, "The season's starting to amp up for the finals -- but I'm sure you're already aware of that." Miss Abercrombie knew Quidditch, or at least she knew Quidditch enough to fake it, and so Cash was fairly confident that this was safe territory. Probably. Hopefully. He was trying his best, alright?

"And yourself? How's the night treating you?"

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MJ made this!

"Oh yes, you must be so excited." Nora followed along with the season statistics quietly, as quidditch was not really a  ladylike hobby to keep track of. Art, Music, Languages, sure, but not quidditch. Still, she had always found the sport fascinating and so thrilling to watch! "Such a spectacular season your team has had!" Nora wondered if she was too enthusiastic in this situation. She would gladly discuss quidditch with Mr. Lestrange, since he'd brought it up, but was that a mark for or against her as a conversation partner.

Perhaps she would let him guide the discussion appropriately. Not that Nora would really know what other direction to take it, aside from the books she'd read. Fortunately she could easily keep up in quidditch or books, but not many other things. "I've been well, thank you." That was true at least. "I cannot say I've been fairing so well this evening however." Best not to go into detail on that, lest he ask and she make a fool of herself without even trying.

"I've read your Treasure Island since we last saw one another, I quite enjoyed it. So thank you for the recommendation." She forged ahead before they could get into why she'd failed at the evening so far.

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Cash shrugged. The Cannons season had been good, but he was nervous about the finals. It only took one game getting away from them for everything to go wrong... and this was, probably, his last season. Maybe.

"I'm glad you liked it," he said, genuinely. He hadn't missed her middle topic, though, and Cash couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at her. "Why haven't you been faring well?" he asked. Whether she wanted to talk about it or not - well, he wanted to know. And if they were going to be - a couple - then this was the sort of thing that he ought to take interest in.

"If you don't mind telling me, that is."

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MJ made this!

Rats. Nora had hoped she would have been able to gloss over her failures of the evening, but apparently she hadn't been able to slip that by Mr. Lestrange after all. Why had she even said anything in the first place? She sighed softly and pass Mr. Lestrange a sheepish smile.

"I am, well, not the most graceful of dancers. I stepped on my last partner's foot and not gently either." She blushed despite herself, glancing away to where her mother was chatting with a handsome gentleman that Nora had no doubt she would be hearing about later. Wondering how she would get out of that, Nora realized she was distracted and turned her attention back to Mr. Lestrange.

With a little slump of her shoulders, Nora hoped Mr. Lestrange didn't find her too frivolous. "My mother was not pleased to say the least." Not that anything terrible would come of it, other than the typical you'll never find a husband like that, why can't you get yourself together? speech that she always got after a social event.

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"Ohh," Cash said. Miss Abercrombie looked so disappointed by her own predicament, which was really a mild one - not nearly as embarrassing as Cash had anticipated. And he could really very deeply relate to the problem of parental disappointment, although he doubted that Mrs. Abercrombie's manifested as severely as Lucius' did.

His eyes crinkled up at the corners. "I thought you were going to tell me you spilled champagne on someone, or - I don't know. Some other ball-based predicament." He was not familiar enough with parties to suggest other alternatives. Usually if he was at a party and embarrassed himself, it was because he and Ellory had been overheard muttering judgmentally about the other guests.

"I don't suppose it would help you out if I danced with you? I won't even be bothered if you step on my foot, I promise."

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MJ made this!

Well now she felt silly, it really wasn't that big of a deal... in the grand scheme of things, but since her main job in life was to catch herself a good husband (according to her mother) it was like she'd gone and fell asleep on the job. "Oh, I've done that too." Nora admitted with a wry smile and a shrug. She really did not do very well at these things, not at all; it was a long sordid history of floundering at social events.

"It is rather... superficial at best," Nora added, trying to not be awkward or to see like many of the vapid, air-headed peers she usually had to put up with at events. Having to deal with the other girls who were too concerned with how somebody looked or how much money they had were worse than trying to make her way through her dance card. Honestly, at least she read! She was well-spoken when she wasn't nervous and could hold a conversation when comfortable! It was hard to put yourself out there and to read people these days!

At Mr. Lestrange's offer, Nora found herself mildly surprised a slightly endeared to the notion. It was kind of him to offer, considering he now knew she was not very good at it, but perhaps she would take him up anyway, at least it might appease her mother somewhat. "I would like that very much." She smiled more properly this time. "I make no promises about your feet however." He was generously warned!

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Cash grinned. "Now," he said, "I didn't say that I was very good, either."

He was, actually, good. Lestranges weren't bad at things, even the petty social ones - and there was only so much social awkwardness Cash could get away with. He was a naturally graceful creature, on and off the Quidditch pitch. Besides, back when Angie had still been a part of her family, they could be counted on to roll their eyes and dance at the rare social gatherings they both attended. He still did dance, with some frequency, with Ellory. Miss Abercrombie didn't know that - the whole point of this was that she knew almost nothing about him.

They were starting to play a new song. Cash offered her his hand.

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MJ made this!

Nora chuckled goodnaturedly at Mr. Lestrange's admission of his own skills. She wasn't entirely sure if it made her feel better or apprehensive about it now, but at least she would not be alone! Certainly he couldn't be all that bad, he was an athlete, weren't they naturally graceful? He was also a Lestrange, that would also dictate he be pretty good as well. Nora realized it may have been an effort to ease her into it or to make her feel better, which she appreciated immensely. He really had been very kind to her in their run-ins.

Well, it was now or never! Nora took Mr. Lestrange's hand and let him lead the way onto the dance floor. Thankfully it was a simply waltz. Nora should be able to hand that much, or so she hoped! "I do apologize in advance if I step on you." She flushed a light pink, hoping that she hadn't just jinxed herself. Fortunately so far, Mr. Lestrange proved to be a very capable lead for her to follow. Some gentlemen were too rigid in their posture and it made it hard for her to feel the upcoming move, though she should know it herself, everybody had their own little nuances when it came to dancing.

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