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( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖊𝖓 ) — veritaserum is a bitch
Evangeline is nothing if not clever. So, when Juliet suggested playing Truth or Dare with a twist, she knew there were secrets the redhead was scrabbling to reveal. One thing was for certain: the night was not going to end well.
''The rules are simple — you pick either truth or dare. If you pick truth, you must answer the given question only after ingesting a drop of Veritaserum,'' Juliet smirked, snatching an emerald vial from Apollo's hands. ''If you pick dare, you must complete whatever is given. Failure to complete will result in having to answer a truth instead.''
Sylvia glanced hesitantly at Evangeline, rifling through rolls of parchment. ''I think I'll sit this one out, Juliet. I need to complete six—''
''Nonsense,'' Pollux interrupted. ''If I'm forced to endure this, so are you.''
''Perfect. Let us begin.''
''I'll go first,'' Evangeline suggested, shifting on the button-tufted leather chaise lounge. ''I pick truth.''
She leaned forward in her seat, taking the pipette from Apollo, before inserting it into the potion. The mixture spread over her tongue, tasteless.
''Smart choice,'' Juliet commented, ''I have a good one, but I'm saving it for the darkest hour. Suggestions, anyone?''
''I have one,'' Cassius announced, turning to his fiancée. ''If you had the opportunity for sexual intercourse with any professor at Hogwarts, who would it be and why?''
''Professor Lupin,'' she blurted immediately. Evangeline blinked, bewildered, willing for herself to stop speaking yet being unable to halt the fountain of words. ''I suppose because he's very intelligent, and handsome in a rustic sort of way.''
Amused glances were shared as Cassius chuckled. ''My turn now. I pick truth, only because I assume the dares will be grim.''
''It is okay to admit you're afraid, Cassius,'' Apollo joked, as the two began an impromptu wrestling match. If Professor McGonagall saw them, she would've thought she was back in the 1970's, watching James Potter and Sirius Black fooling around. ''Right . . . who was the last person you fantasized about, and what happened in the fantasy?''
The Nott boy's face burned red, as if he was supporting Gryffindor at a Quidditch match. He avoided eye contact with Evangeline as he took a sip of the serum, nervous. ''Evangeline. It was a— uh, scenario of what our wedding night may entail.''
