Darius had fired off two more darts before his concentration was interrupted by the arrival of a girl he thought he recognized from behind (and Darius always had a good memory for behinds). She sauntered into the bar alone, unusual for a sixteen-year-old Hogwarts female, but Darius wasn’t complaining. Girls were always much easier prey alone, especially because they didn’t have any self-righteous friends around to defend them when Darius was making them feel insecure so they’d be more likely to get a room with him.
Biting his bottom lip as though he were really concentrating on taking aim, Darius pulled the dart way too far behind his head and let it fly, aiming not for the dart board but rather for the table right in front of the new girl. His aim was on the mark, and the dart landed directly in front of the girl – Gryffindor, if he remembered right, but he wasn’t picky when he was alone – and, unable to stick into the wood, skittered across the surface and onto the floor next to her chair.
Tada, Darius thought to himself, carefully constructing a look of embarrassment on his face as he set the remaining two darts on the table next to him and moved toward the dark-haired girl.
“I am so sorry,” Darius said, his voice oozing with charm as he approached the girl, smiling apologetically, “That was really very clumsy of me. But really, I’m going to blame the dart. Because how could it have avoided such a lovely target?” Darius purred, laying it on thick. Girls were so stupid, they actually believed this crap.
“I’m Darius,” he said confidently, extending his hand toward the girl. And what reason did he have not to be confident in this situation? This girl wasn’t so special, but she would do. For now.