The room reminded him of sothing from an old black-and-white movie he had once caught glimpses of while cleaning up at the Dursleys'. Large portraits hung on the walls displaying images of ancestors long gone. Furniture lay about, positioned in either circles around strategically placed tables, by fireplaces, or across from others to ensure privacy in conversation.
The air had a thin veil of smoke, a byproduct of the occasionally burning candle, a few pipes, and the fireplace itself.
As for the individuals themselves, if Magical society was different than that of Muggles it was no clearer than here. Outfits that looked as though they belonged in dieval tis covered the bodies of the rich and powerful. Hushed, though unhurried, conversations about wealth and politics emanated from every direction, and a glance from any single person could an a hundred different things.
Harry Potter felt incredibly out of place and fought the urge to simply back out of the doorway and find sowhere else to be. Still, Riddle was next to him, and fingertips brushed against his shoulder, urging him forward.
'Making rounds' as he had been told prior to entering. Grace had explained it as an older tradition, especially when being introduced for the first ti. Others would want to et him, speak with him, and in doing so he would make a good impression.
The fact that so of those in the room had a child, or children, at Hogwarts was only further incentive to 'play nice'. Barely had they made it to the first grouping when his hand twitched with the desire to go for his Wand. If the woman at his side noticed, she didn't comnt.
Bellatrix Lestrange, or Black as he reminded himself, stood with several others, chatting amicably about sothing or another. It was fine, until she glanced in their direction spying Riddle first and then lingering on him.
She looked different than when he had seen her last. Calr, cleaner, perhaps even more sane. "Riddle," she greeted, "Fashionably late I see."
Grace gave a small smile in return, though gave no indication of humor or anger otherwise.
"And she brings a guest I see, the Potter boy if I were to guess." That comnt hadn't been from the first woman, instead one standing next to her, one he didn't recognize.
This ti his professor did reply, "I have been allowed to escort him, yes."
"I wonder how much they paid for that privilege." Another joked, earning so faint, and ugly, laughter from those nearby. Harry gritted his teeth to keep from saying sothing he really shouldn't, while Grace rely smiled once more.
"Hardly the case, I always strive to nurture talent as I'm sure you are aware Lestrange."
Harry did recognize that na, and clearly there was sothing in her comnt based upon the scowl that ford on the woman's face in response.
"You were sorted into Slytherin weren't you? I thought I had heard that, but my daughter failed to ntion your presence." Bellatrix interrupted, drawing the attention back onto herself in typical Slytherin fashion.
When his 'escort' didn't imdiately respond Harry shrugged, uncaring of how Muggle the act might be. "We've spoken a few tis, weird that she didn't rember."
"Hopefully her forgetfulness does not extend through the sumr and into her studies." Grace casually noted, earning the slight twitch of Bellatrix's eye. "As lovely as this has been though we have others to greet."
As they turned Harry let out a sigh of relief, only to observe at least five other 'groups' that still awaited them.
It was going to be a long night.
****
No
No, nope, nadda, wasn't going to happen, no chance in hell. There was literally zero chance of the boy-who-lived continuing with their 'scheduled socializing' especially since he had spotted a group of familiar blondes in the far corner.
And Riddle couldn't pay him enough to deal with the Malfoy's, their arsehole youngest, and the creepy older daughter. Thus, he snuck out while she was busy with another individual. The hallway was, thankfully, devoid of occupants. Down the first he went, before glancing about and choosing another at random. Each turn had him walking just a bit faster, each connecting passageway in the seemingly endless maze that was the mansion.
It had been degrading, listening to them talk about him as if he weren't there, as if he wasn't good enough to be in the sa room as them, as if he were soone's property, and to deal with that family would have been too much.
Oh, how hard he had fought, to not scream in their faces, to not push back, to not start throwing around spells and show them all what he thought about them and their opinions. Because he couldn't, just like how he wasn't able to blast Malfoy into next week every ti he heard the blonde prat say sothing insulting, just as he couldn't take out half the school during his fourth year.
It was even more important now because so of them might be his parents' coworkers or supervisors. If it was just him, he might have told them where to shove their opinions, as far up their stuck-up arseholes as they could manage, but for his parents, for his sisters?
He could swallow his pride for them.
"Mr. Potter"
For a split-second Harry didn't recognize the voice, then he did and wanted nothing more than to keep walking and pretend like he didn't hear the woman. Instead, he turned and forced his best 'politely hating you and everyone at this party' smile. "Professor."
Serena Snape seed to erge from the shadows of the nearby doorway, patented disapproving expression ever present on her face. He had been so close too, so close to getting outside and 'being lost' for the remainder of the evening to avoid any further 'social obligations'.
"I was not expecting you here."
"Well, you know professor, always showing up where I don't belong."
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