antebellum [t. riddle]

xxxix

23 december 1944
translations at the bottom

there were at least five hundred people crammed into the malfoy's ballroom.

the room was crawling with traitors.

or spies, she thought to herself, but deep down, she knew very well that she was in a room full of renegades.

the malfoy's elaborately decorated ballroom was filled to the brim with aristocrats, government officials, businessmen, and journalists and she made note of all the ones she recognized. though technically, they had yet to do anything illegal, but if a wanted terrorist walked through those doors, every magical government in the world would be clamoring to investigate.

a pang of guilt shot through her, making her wonder if anything she reported tonight would implicate abraxas' mother. she hoped not, but she'd have to give a convincing amount of information, or they'd request her memories for the entire day, some of which she did not want to give.

she and tom were still arm in arm as they navigated the party, looking for familiar faces. a live quintet was playing near the front of the party, but she assumed that there were charms placed on the instruments that they could be heard at the same volume from anywhere in the room. they passed by a group of government officials so old they looked like reanimated corpses, some of which she recognized from ministry personnel manuals and newspapers.

james warrington, ministry benefactor

teresa mondero, deputy advisor to the spanish ministry attorney general

the pair of them travel through the crowd, tom greeting people he apparently knows as they go. sicaria knew nothing of his family, and he never spoke of his relation to the gaunt family, but he still somehow seemed to be well known and well liked among many of this crowd. he had connections everywhere, it seemed. still, he introduced her to people when they asked about her, and never once let her arm stray from his. she just nodded and smiled along to whatever it was he was saying at the time; her opinions as a woman did not much matter to the elitist, high society businessman that seemed to run the world. she was irritated, but not offended; she wasn't naïve, and she knew how the world worked. it would do her no good to get frustrated over it.

eventually, they wandered over to a part of the ballroom where the other four boys were standing.

"ah, there you two are." thomas kissed her hand. they had all complimented her, like the gentleman they were. sicaria didn't like to think of herself as a shallow person, but being complimented every time she put a bit of effort in did wonders for one's self esteem. "you look lovely, edwards."

patrick grimsditch, auror. he walked right past the group of them with a redheaded witch (who was definitely not his wife) in his arm.

she smiled in gratitude, but before she could respond, abraxas cut in. "why does no one ever tell riddle how beautiful he looks? here mate, give me your hand."

sicaria, adonis, and adrien laughed, while tom sneered at malfoy.

"it's seven in the evening, malfoy. how is it you're already drunk?"

he shrugged and sipped his champagne. "i'm not drunk at all, it just isn't fair she gets all the compliments. a bloke likes to hear he looks nice every once in a while."

"you look absolutely beautiful, abraxas," sicaria countered.

"why thank you, edwards. i do appreciate that someone took notice."

the five of them laughed and talked for a few moments. sicaria was grateful that none of them had asked what had taken the two so long, though she knew they likely had assumed the worst. as she contemplated, adrien's face broke into a smile, looking at someone just over her shoulder. "well look who it is."