He must have stood there, awestruck and lovelorn, for quite a while before Tristan finally managed to focus enough on what was happening around him to snap out of his staring. He hadn't missed that feeling he got around the Shacklebolt daughter, a mix of helpless adoration and sickening lack of control over his own body. His mind was a mess, his usually pristine occlumency shields shattered in the chaos of his thoughts of both past, present and silly hopes for a future with the goddess before him. He suddenly remembered all the fantasies and imaginary dates he had with the girl in his adolescence, and had to stifle an embarrassed groan at the thought that his mind decided to apparently break [i]now[/i] and apparently do the closest thing to assisted suicide by dropping his occlumency and think dirty thing about the daughter of the [i]very powerful warrior[/i] that just happened to be not five feet away from him.

[i]'This is a disaster, think about something else, you idiot, do you really want to die that young and that painfully?!'[/i] His logical mind tried its best to control his heart and hormones, but the two had apparently been chugging pepper up potion mixed with mind sharpening elixir because soon enough the Auror had to hid his crimson face and uncomfortable effusion of hormones from the arguing pair as he discretely  got rid of his problem with a nonverbal and well aimed chilling spell and calming charm.

After making sure that everything was as normal as he could make it while still hungover, Tristan turned back to his employer and new charge, valiantly trying to look as professional and innocent as he possibly could. As it turned out, he was currently in the clear as both Shacklebolts were still arguing... small mercies.

...

Well, that was a mercy until  he was suddenly involved in the arguing, the lovely Sarai glaring daggers at him all the while as the brunet struggled to think about what he had been asked about. For that matter, what did he do to earn such ire? He didn't remember any incident with the woman, and could actually count the number of interactions they had on one hand, so what gives?

Feeling a disgusting film of nervous sweat at the the hostility he gained from his old crush, the Higgs boy did what any Slytherin did best: bullshit his way out of trouble.

“I agree that this may sound excessive, Miss Shacklebolt, but your father only wish for you not to burden yourself with the unworthy fiends who would fail to harm you. I am here as a shield between your everyday life and such vermin and...” he started, face like stone in his bluffing.

Okay, from the Minister he seemed to be in the clear, as the man even seemed... amused? By the speech he gave. Daring a glance to the one he was really trying to impress here, he felt his face fall a little. She seemed to despise him now, and he had no idea why!

Inwardly panicking despite not letting much show through his long practiced mask of civil placidity, Tristan forgot about what he was saying in a vague attempt on his part to fix things. While his mind tried to find something better to say, the young pureblood could only watch helplessly as his body walked slowly towards Sarai and knelled before her, swiftly yet delicately taking her hand.

“You are upset, I can understand that. How can I make you show me that pretty smile of yours?” His [i]retarded[/i] mouth then proceeded to say without his assent.

[b]What the fuck, brain?![/b]