She whirled around when she felt the tickle of air on the back of her neck, the velveteen voice sending a brief shiver down her spine. Rachel found herself at a most surprising loss for words, the face before hers more familiar than she liked or expected.
"Gab—Mister Corner," she began, alarm evident in her voice. "Are—"
It did not take long for the truth to dawn on her. They were only barely acquainted, and other than a function here or there, had seen each other very, very rarely since he'd left school. There would be no reason to seek her out unless he was the one she, too, was supposed to be finding. A sweeping glance at his costume, the sword in particular, and she knew it was no coincidence.
"Thank you," Rachel murmured tersely in response to his compliment, a note of uncertainty in her tone. Her eyebrows knitted together in concentration as she appraised the man standing before her in a new light. It had never been the case that she was meeting someone she knew, albeit not well. The men on the other end of the set-ups were always Beauxbaton boys, Durmstrang educated, or far older than she would remember from her Hogwarts days. It was easier to act heartless or cruel to a face she was certain she'd never see again, but Gabriel Corner… he, on the other hand, was different. What was she to do?
News of Gabriel's recent indiscretions had not escaped her ears, but rather than sympathy, her most predominant feelings were those of anger, irritation, hopelessness. "They're using us, you know," Rachel informed him, seeing no point in beating around the bush. "They're being punished for our imprudence and are trying to bring themselves back into social graces. This isn't for us, at all."
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