Regulus was silently observing the passing back and forth of the bottle and the events that followed. When Lucius stepped up to help Rabastan into his robes, he thought that sort of odd, but of course did not voice such concerns. He had taken a couple of swigs of the throat scorching liquid and could feel a pleasant warmness in his head and belly. He was just the slightest bit tipsy, enough so, that he let out a giggle, followed by a hiccup, and then covered his mouth and tried to suppress any further such girlish outbursts. It was due to this slightly altered state that perhaps he didn't sense the true undercurrents going on here, or it could be that even sober, he would have been oblivious to this sort of personal tension. Family tension? Arguments, shouting matches, hexing and banishments? He knew all about those well enough. While he watched Rodolphus and Lucius fuss over Rabastan, he took a glance around first at the others in attendance to make sure no one was in danger of succumbing to the whisky, or worse yet, they were being detected in their clandestine activities.