"And then a hippogriff came out of nowhere and swooped in." An enthusiastic woman explained, her hands wildly mimicked the movement of the hippogriff with her right hand and sloshing her drink with her left. The crowd around her attempted to follow the movements aside from Freya, who was trying to keep the bourbon off her shoes. "Nearly took off my leg, but I'm rather quick."
"How impressive," Freya hoped Regulus would return soon
"Not as impressive as the time I nearly got taken out by one those mermaids, you see—"
"Freya, how lovely it is to see you." Narcissa Black said in a smooth and refined voice. With the barest upturn of a lip, she looked at the older woman. "Sorry, mind if I steal her away for a moment?"
The woman gave a dismissive wave, then turned back to the rest of the group. "Anyway, I was way out in the ocean."
Side by side, Narcissa walked with Freya. The straight-haired girl was slightly taller than her in heels but carried herself in a far more regal manner that Freya tried to emulate. "Are you enjoying the party?"
"Very much so," Freya answered, correcting her posture even more.
Impeccably dressed in a black long-sleeved dress and smoothed-out hair, Narcissa strolled around the house. She wasn't exactly "beautiful," yet she was pretty and knew how to keep the illusion she was. Fair-skinned without a blemish in sight, the only issue on her face would be the slight scowl that came with it, though that was simply her resting face.
"And Regulus is good company?"
Freya nodded slightly, wondering how Narcissa and Walburga managed to keep a conversation and barely look at the person they were speaking to. "Of course, he's one of my dearest friends."
"Yes, he is." A stronger curve came to Narcissa's mouth, and it looked rather odd, to be honest. "Very handsome, wouldn't you say?"
Freya knew cousin-to-cousin marriage was "normal" to British purebloods, but it still seems rather odd, especially since she thought Narcissa was being courted by Lucious. After an awkward beat, Freya managed to say, "Yes... he's got a lovely nose." then regretted it quickly. Sipping the gold beverage, she looked at a random man across the room. "Is that your sister's husband?"
"Rodolphus Lestrange." She explained with a nod, "He's quite close to my uncle, but most of the men are." Her blues eyes went to Freya. "Family is very important to us."
Freya felt like she was being inspected again. "Of course, we are nothing without it."
"Indeed." Pleased with the response, Narcissa gently stroked a curl that framed Freya's face. "You have beautiful hair."
"Thank you."
Dropping her hand, Narcissa's blue eyes drifted back to her face. "You took your owls this year, yes?"
"Yes."
"And how do you think you did?"
"Well, I hope," Freya admitted, a slight joking tone in her voice, but quickly fixed and noticed they had stopped strolling a while ago.
Narcissa didn't seem to respond to the lighter tone Freya used and continued to pry. "And what do you plan to do with your scores?"
It felt like a spotlight was placed on her, and she didn't know why. "Find a good job, possibly working at the ministry."
Narcissa nodded. "Interesting."
If Freya had given the wrong answer, she really didn't know what the right one was. Then she glanced at Narcissa's long garment. "Your dress looks beautiful."
With a sense of pride, Narcissa grinned lightly. "Lucious gave it to me as a gift."
"That's kind of him." Freya was very lost and prayed Regs wouldn't have to marry his cousin. Feeling the weight of all her champagne on her bladder, Freya smiled. "Forgive me for asking, but where is your restroom?"
***
"Bloody hell." Freya clenched the edges of the bathroom sink and took a deep breath. This party was taking days, and she hadn't been able to do any of the networking she planned to do. No one talked about these things at parties, or if they did it was in a clump of old men that had apparently grown in the same bloody sandbox.
It didn't help that Freya had missed every aspect of the dress code and everyone seemed to have the same piercing gaze she admired but hated at the same time.
She hoped the sweat wouldn't show through the fabric of her dress. Who chooses purple, anyway?
Looking herself in the eye, she inhaled and straightened her shoulders.
In her head, she planned and refocused.
Baring a more pleasant expression, Freya opened the door and was met with an older man. He skimmed over her face and laughed a little. "Bit of the devil's grass, eh?"
Before Freya could retort or explain, he went inside the bathroom. Offended, Freya removed any likes of the pleasant expression and resumed as she was.
***
Sirius Black greatly despised these dinner parties. Most of the time, he could hide out in his room, and be the disgrace of the family in his muggle-decorated room in peace. But there wasn't much of a choice as he sat beside his mother and some freckled-faced pure-blood from Scotland. Purposely, he slouched in his chair with the stuffy get-up his mother forced him to wear.
At the head of the table was his father, who had just finished giving a massive(and extremely boring) toast and was now contently cutting into some beef platter. Orion Black dug his fork into the meat and turned to the pale boy beside him. "So, my boy, how was Quidditch?"
He asked as if it were his only boy and only son that played Quidditch. Sirius had developed a rather annoyed look and picked apart one of the dinner rolls.
His brother's thin lips curved up gently, and he took a sip from his goblet. "Won three games this session."
"Made Slytherin proud." His mother piped up beside him.
Gryffindor did that his fourth year, and no one care, not that it mattered; his family wasn't significant to him.
His father smiled and drank more from his goblet. Then his eyes settled over to the curly-haired girl beside Regulus, who didn't even look like she was breathing. Sirius could tell his father was confused by the way it looked like he was holding in the urge to use the restroom. After a moment, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked at her. "Forgive me, but I don't think we've met." His head tilted. "Are you a friend of Regulus?"
"Freya Grey," Walburg answered before Freya could then continued. "Her father used to work in the ministry." Boring.
"Grey? Okan's daughter? Shame about what happened." His father shook his head mournfully. Less boring. Sirius' dark eyes flew to Freya from her reaction. She stilled lightly and didn't change much in her expression, but Sirius could tell she didn't like this new topic. "And how is your mother doing?"
"Quite well, sir," Freya replied, voice smoothed.
"Send her my regards."
"I will, thank you, sir."
"Perhaps next time she can join us." Sirius' mother smiled politely, but he sensed a bit of cruelty underneath it.
Regulus turned completely passive, staring at his soup with distant intensity.
Freya took a sip of water. "Hopefully, Ms. Black."
Sirius wanted to know what the hell was going on. He had never heard of the Grey's(aside from Freya) and didn't know anything about them other than the fact that they must be purebloods, despite not being a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families.
The conversation moved on the dreadfully boring and painfully civil.
Slytherin, isn't it amazing?
Yes, and so is oppressing muggles.
Haha, haha.
Or at least what it all sounded like to Sirius.