The Yule Ball, though only halfway over, had already turned into a memorably miserable evening for Igor Karkaroff. He had misplaced his favorite cloak; Viktor had shown up to the dance with a Hogwarts Mudblood; and Severus had ignored his worries about the Dark Mark. Karkaroff moodily munched on a biscuit and reassured himself that it could be worse. No one was bothering him, for one. And whatever his emotions, he at least looked impeccable.
"Happy Christmas, Igor!"
He nearly dropped the biscuit. It was Dumbledore.
"Delightful refreshments, aren't they? You've chocolate in your goatee."
Karkaroff quietly grit his teeth.