Lucius whispered into Narcissa's ear as the clock struck nine. Narcissa nodded, and Lucius grabbed Hermione's elbow, suddenly steering her inside.

"Not running from me, are you Lucius?" called out a gravelly voice.

Lucius rolled his shoulders almost imperceptibly before he spun around, pulling Hermione with him. Hermione's heart stuttered at the sight of Dolohov sidestepping the line, heading straight for them. Narcissa pursed her lips before returning to her other guests.

"Not all." Lucius smiled tightly. "It's nine o'clock. It's traditional for the host to enter the main room on time, and for the hostess to remain to greet the latecomers."

"If you say so." Dolohov took Lucius's hand, and Hermione could see how tight his grip was from their bloodless knuckles. "Your receiving line was so long, I felt like I was standing on your drive for hours."

"If you arrive on time, you get in on time." Lucius released Dolohov's hand and clapped his shoulder. "That's alright, Antonin. The more society events you're invited to, the easier polite manners will become."

Lucius steered her away, but Dolohov's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Her body froze in sharp terror as he brought her hand to his lips, and whispered, "Miss Granger. A pleasure as always." His eyes were black tunnels as his clammy lips pressed to her skin.

Dark spots in her vision. A cold wind in her ears.

And then Lucius was tugging her away with a faint growl. She struggled to breathe as she stilled the shivering book that contained the echoes of water against tile. He pulled her into the drawing room where she'd been tortured so many times, and she braced herself—

But when her vision cleared, she found a very different room. Her lips parted as her eyes roved the ceiling. Cream walls and golden candlelight, gently falling snow that vanished before it landed on your head. There was a string quartet playing in the ballroom just beyond, the entire room vibrating with champagne and conversation.

Hermione stood rigid by Lucius's side as he greeted friends and made acquaintances with foreign officials. Her eyes wandered to the young people — a group of dark-featured girls stood together in the corner, giggling and glancing at Blaise, Theo, and Adrian as they sipped champagne and smirked at them. She spied Marcus Flint chatting up an older woman, turning on the charm.

Narcissa joined them after a time, slipping her arm through Lucius's and introducing him to several new guests. Hermione followed at their heels, no more than a step behind. When they ran into Ted Nott, it seemed he'd already had several more servings of Firewhisky, in addition to the one in his hand.

"Lucius," he slurred. "Back from Switzerland, I see."

Lucius tilted his head. "And I see you're back from Groix."

Nott Sr. raised his glass in a mock salute before scanning the room. "No whelp, though. Your boy still mucking things up over there?"

Hermione saw Narcissa's fingers dig into Lucius's arm.