ᴏᴍɴɪꜱᴄɪᴇɴᴛ ✵ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ✵

𝐗𝐗𝐈

☼ ꜰʀᴇʏᴀ ☼

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"I feel fucking stupid."

Freya only rolls her eyes at Benjy's umpteenth complaint. He fidgets rather aggressively at his dress robes as they arrive in the entrance hall ten minutes past eight o'clock. They're late due to Benjy's stubborn refusal to wear the outfit at all, his wardrobe consists only of joggers and t-shirts, certainly nothing fancy – or posh tart clothing, as he put it. But Freya prevailed, adamant that he needed to match her. She wears a green dress embroidered with a mass of tiny silvers and white jewels down the sleeves and back.

Kingsley is already there, lips curled in hidden amusement with Pandora and Dorcas on either side sharing the same expression. They brought Benjy and Pandora as dates so they could join the party. Dorcas, on the other hand, did not want to bring a date in hopes that Marlene Mckinnon will notice she's single. Although Freya is convinced Marlene would notice her regardless, Dorcas looks flawless; her silver silk dress moulds to her torso beautifully, complimenting her feminine shape.

A low growl escapes Benjy's mouth, and she knows the particular cause for that sound. Emmeline is immersed in a conversation with her date, Bertram Aubrey. Freya forces his arm to bend so she can shove her own through the crook. He's immediately distracted and furrows his brows at her.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"In case I have to stop you from beating Aubrey into a pulp," she hisses.

"There is nothing I care about less than that gobshite," Benjy mutters bitterly.

"Shall we get going?" Kingsley asks them all.

He and Pandora take the lead, hand in hand, and they follow up the marble staircase. Music, laughter, and loud conversation gets louder with every step to Slughorn's office. Most likely arranged by magic, the room is much larger than the usual size of a teacher's study. The ceiling and walls are draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looks as though they're all inside a elegantly vast tent.

It is overfilled with guests and bathed in an amber glow cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the centre of the ceiling in which real fairies flutter, each a brilliant speck of light. Jazz music issues from a distant corner, where a saxophone is charmed to play on its own. House-elves steer through the array of knees, concealed by the silver platters of food they hold up.

Professor Slughorn converses with Eldred Worple, who is amidst a process where he lives with vampires to study them, and apparently has brought one with him to the party. Freya hears him cry out sternly, "Sanguini, stay here!" because the vampire inched closer to a group of students with a hungry look in his eyes. Benjy and Freya glance at each other, and as soon as their eyes meet, they both look away quickly so they won't burst out laughing. Now that Worple has left him unattended, Slughorn spots them.

"Ah, Freya, my dear!" the Professor booms. He approaches them cheerfully with a glass of mead in one hand and a pumpkin pastry in the other. "You look marvellous!"

Freya wears a small, polite smile. "Thank you, sir."

His face is flushed and his velvet hat is a bit askew as he notices Benjy. "And you brought Benzino! How are you, my boy?"

"Actually, my name —" Benjy never gets to finish because Slughorn moves on to greet Kingsley.

Freya's breath hitches when she catches a glimpse toward the other side of the room. The moment she looks at him, his eyes snap away from her. Regulus stands in an attire of the finest dress robes; beautiful green wool and black leather that accentuates the artful dark brunette curls framing his flawless face. Beside him is Cerys Yaxley in a velvet dress of dark purple and her auburn hair pulled back in a low bun. She looks lovely, and Freya fucking hates it.