Gretaaaaaa.
Walden had spotted the lovely silhouette of a brunette storming off away from some dark-haired bloke and his blond bimbo. At first he hadn't thought twice about it, but considering that he had come here alone and he supposed that it would probably be more convincing that he had come here of his own will if he chatted up
someone... he half-jogged over to where she was stalking off to, adjusting his
mask.
Right,
now what? It wasn't as if he spent much of his spare time flirting - in truth, he spent most of his spare time with the Death Eaters or working extra hours at the Ministry to get his dream job.
And when he didn't have those things to do? Torturing small animals (including Ralph Merridew) worked too. Snagging a glass of punch off the nearby tray, he tapped Greta lightly on the shoulder.
"You look as if you could use a drink." Or five.
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