Obliviate

CHAPTER TWENTY

The most anticipated party of the summer had arrived, and lucky for Maeve, it was the Sinclair's turn to host it.

Abraxas whined as Maeve was still changing her hair in her enchanted vanity. It was pulled up in a loose twist.

"Come on," whined Abraxas. "I want to hear about your duel with Arianna."

"Patience," said Maeve.

She looked in the mirror once more and envisioned her hair pulled back in braids with soft curls falling to her shoulders. The magic of the vanity took effect and adjusted her hairstyle perfectly. She wondered if Tom would like that way.

"How's Tom doing down there?" Asked Maeve as she observed herself in the mirror.

"Charming everyone, as expected," said Abraxas.

Maeve smirked and started to change her hair once more.

"No. That looks fine," said Abraxas snappily. "Don't change it again. The party started an hour ago."

Abraxas pulled her downstairs and into the drawing-room. They took a seat as Maeve recounted every detail of her duel with Arianna to him.

"About time," said Abraxas, slapping her on the leg. "Sure Tom was proud."

Maeve shrugged, though she knew he was.

"Miss Sinclair, Mr. Malfoy."

They looked over as Mr. Carroll Iantrose plopped himself down opposite them. He was utterly intoxicated by the sluggish look of him.

"Mr. Iantrose," said Abraxas. "Good to see you." Abraxas turned his attention back to Maeve. "Oh- I almost forgot. We have tickets to the Quidditch World Cup at the end of the month-"

"I see you brought a boy home," said Mr. Iantrose, smacking his lips together in such a way that Abraxas recoiled.

"Well, when you put it that way, it does sound a certain type of way, doesn't it," said Maeve cooly.

She had little interest in conversing with Mr. Iantrose, who was known to spew nonsense once he had one too many drinks.

"Anyway," said Abraxas, "if you want to-"

"I'm saying I wouldn't-t-t tado that," interrupted Mr. Iantrose.

Much to Abraxas' annoyance, Maeve entertained the conversation.

"Why is that, sir?" She asked.

"Because of the curse!" Slurred Iantrose dramatically.

Maeve chuckled lightly. "What curse it that, sir?"

"The one between Ravenclaws and Slyther-" he coughed on his brandy- "S-s-s-lytherins."

"Oh? My whole family is Slytherin, sir, as well as many dear friends, and as you know, I belong to Ravenclaw house-"

"Oh, bloody friendship. No! Love- dear girl! I'm speaking of lo-ve." He took another large swig of his drink. "No inhabit-itit-able romance there, none at all. Always ends. . . Vio....lent"

"And who cursed this particular union?" She asked, half-listening to him and hoping he would pass out soon.

"Unrequited love!" Iantrose laughed loudly, becoming more inebriated by the second.

"I see," said Maeve.

Iantrose's eyes were slowly closing, and he sunk deeper into his seat. After a few moments of silence, Maeve turned her attention back to Abraxas.

"Continue," said Maeve.

Abraxas looked to Iantrose once more to ensure the drunk was out cold.

"Right. I was saying if you'd like to-"