At one point, a talkative older woman who smelled thickly of cloves held up the line, droning on and on about some kind of society event she was hosting in the spring. Hermione watched as Narcissa pounced on the perfect moment to interrupt. "Dolores, that sounds divine. I'll come find you in about half an hour to hear more, but do you know that Hugh McKenzie is already inside?"

Dolores' eyes brightened like a predator that had just found its next meal. She quickly excused herself, forcing Lucius to step out of the way. Narcissa brushed a strand of hair back over her ear and muttered, "Insufferable." Lucius placed a hand on the small of her back and leaned in her ear to whisper, "Poor Hugh." Hermione looked at the floor and pressed her lips together to hide her smile.

"Granger." She jumped, glancing up to find Adrian Pucey grinning at her over Narcissa's shoulder. "Save a dance for me?"

Both Malfoys turned to look at her, their shoulders parting. Leaving her in clear view.

Lucius looked back at Pucey, his eyes hard. "That would be highly inappropriate, Adrian."

"Of course, sir. My apologies. I was just having a bit of fun." Adrian shook Lucius's hand as two people who could only be his parents moved beside him.

"My, Narcissa," the woman cooed, her eyes fixed on Hermione. "Is this the professor's daughter?"

"Heavens, no." Narcissa laughed. "That's Draco's Mudblood."

Mrs. Pucey pulled back the hand she'd been extending to Hermione, as though burned. Hermione looked down to the floor as a thick silence settled over them.

"Well," Mr. Pucey said, clearing his throat. "She almost fooled me, but there's something lowborn in her posture."

The faux-pas was quickly swept under the rug, and the Puceys moved inside. The minutes dragged on, and Hermione's feet began aching in her heels. Walking around a bit would help, but she didn't dare move without permission. As more and more people entered, it became harder to remain hidden behind Lucius's coattails.

That's Hermione Granger.

—went for 65,000 Galleons—

No place for Mudblood, if you ask me—

—suppose you can't blame them for wanting to show her off—

Hermione's breath hitched at the sight of several girls she hadn't seen since Hogwarts, including Millicent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis, and Romilda Vane. All three were in black dresses and making eyes at any men who crossed their path. Hermione's palms felt clammy when Theo Nott and his father entered together, followed closely by Blaise and Goyle. Theo didn't look at her as they passed, though a muscle in his cheek twitched. His father's eyes were too glassy and unfocused to notice her.

The clock inched closer to nine as the drawing room grew louder and louder behind her. Floating platters of champagne soared overhead to serve the guests in line. One platter came dangerously close to her head and she ducked, stumbling a few steps to the left. The moment she steadied herself, she met eyes with Antonin Dolohov. A chill ran through her veins and she quickly moved behind Lucius again, chastising herself for the chill that ran through her veins.