Held in the lavish Lestrange Manor, she'd been looking around the room trying to decide whose bed she was going to tumble into that night. Many of the revelers were already descending into the sexual antics that would've once upon a time made the witch blush. She learned quickly in the ranks of the Death Eaters that a great deal of power could be wielded using the talents afforded her as a woman. Prudes had no place amongst those that bathed in blood and viscera. Antonin, standing on the edge of the room, caught her eye. He'd been drinking, but not yet to excess. The way his deep brown eyes latched on to hers and held her gaze left little room for misinterpretation. Her husband had a way of making her feel like she was the only one in the entire room, even long before they were married. Curiosity of what she might discover if she allowed herself to finally let the wizard take her to bed encouraged her first step in his direction.