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Post by Deleted on Sept 11, 2014 3:05:29 GMT
There were no words for how intensely uncomfortable Theo was. It was odd, not being in his robes - normally he dressed in the height of Wizarding Fashion, not that he needed to point it out as frequently as one Draco Malfoy did - but now he was dressed in... Muggle clothing. Even within his mind, the word curled in an utterly disturbed way, a notion he shouldn't be fathoming, considering, anything at all. Still. It wasn't as though he had possessed much of a choice in the matter.
It was the Quidditch World Cup, and it was hardly as if he was going to miss that - his Father had bought some very nice seats, not that he thought he would be sitting by him. No, his Father was likely to be off doing business, buying the tickets just for show, and Theo would find himself watching the game alone, and then retreating to their tent alone. Not that he minded - better alone than with Father. No, it wasn't as if he minded being here, temporarily camping here, or being alone - it was more the fact that they had to pander to Muggles, as a show of 'good faith' and 'look how not-threatening they are!', and thus... muggle clothing. Ugh.
Madam Malkin had assured him that he was dressed very well for Muggle clothing - a 'tuxedo', she had called it, and given it wasn't as bad as some of the clothing he spotted people hurrying around in, he was forced to concede to her. (Not that he'd ever challenge her on her clothing knowledge - she was good for what she claimed to know, and didn't claim any more than that.) He could be worse.
Still, it didn't help his odd tenseness, slight frown on his face as he strode through the camp, taking in all the garish - but nice in their own way, he supposed - decorations, the milling groups of people, the noise... It wasn't bad. Too loud for his tastes, but not bad. |
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