 The Sweetest Thing Lissy De Vil
49. Yule Ball
Sibyll Trelawney hiccupped softly behind her hand and slid the bottle of sherry she had been sipping from under the table. The Yule Ball was always such a loud, disruptive place; how could anyone concentrate on the beyond with such goings on?
“I see you brought your own refreshment as well,” Professor Moody said unexpectedly next to her. He held up his flask as if in toast and winked his good eye at her.
Trelawney blinked owlishly at him; there was unpleasantness in the man’s aura. She avoided his gaze and reached again for the bottle as he smiled knowingly.
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