Politics Aren't My Forte

[Atticus Sharpe]

With the election looming ever nearer, much of the gossip that filled his inn had surrounded its many candidates. Unable to vote himself due to his lack of magical status, Atticus had paid it little enough time after gleaning from his sister that none of the candidates were in his acquaintance—and why should they be, when most were wealthier than the Sharpes might ever dream of being? Instead, he set his ears to listening to other topics—from idle gossip to the latest quidditch standings (for he had grown to be something of a fan of the sport in the years since he had been introduced to it, particularly with the addition of the stadium in Hawthorne Hollow). Such gossip kept the man involved in the world outside his business, the business that served both as home and heart to the muggle.

But election talk grew to dominate once more until he found himself joining in with a conversation at the table to which he was delivering drinks.

“Why run, then, if one’s so laughable a candidate?” Atticus inquired.

Open to 2-4 people sitting together!