Clint laughed, amused as hell with Ms. Millicent Bulstrode. She really had turned out much different than he remembered and after being gone for a few years, well, it was nice to come back to some different things. "Good luck with that, doll," he said, grinning at her. Clint was an expert poker player and he really had no doubt that it would come down to him and someone else. His eyes flickered over the room, judging his competition. Pucey maybe. Or Astoria. He couldn't remember the number of times she'd cleaned him out. Of course, he'd cleaned her out as well. So, it'd be a fun night.
"I enjoy pushing the envelope," he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "It's really what I'm all about." And it was. He was a playboy at heart but these days he'd felt more like the white knight, riding in to save everyone and he wasn't sure he was doing a bang up job.
He frowned, eyes finding Parkinson. "Parkinson looks a bit off," he said, frowning. "Don't think I've ever seen her that... casual."