I had to move on and up. I was used to the view from the lofty heights, but I wasn't prepared for our sector, the VIP box, which had been half-empty for two nights, to be packed with so many people. If it weren't for the aristocratic gatherings in France and Olivia's rare but accurate lessons in etiquette, I would have behaved exactly like the redheaded family with a "plus"... well... if I was drunk... very drunk... really drunk.
The noise, the endless chatter, each and every one of the conventionally famous family began to get on my nerves within the first few seconds. I got the impression that each of the Weasley's had their own personal imaginary friend with whom they had to argue.
Against this noisy backdrop, two teenagers in ordinary, plain clothes somehow got lost. And while the curly-haired girl was more or less holding it together, the short brunette looked truly lost, resembling a frightened animal that had just been pulled out of a dark, comfortable mink.
The Delacours were in no hurry to take their seats, chatting with a trio of important foreigners. Fleur played her part, standing only beside her parents, but Gabrielle was beside me, keeping me company as I watched the show.
We saw a strange scene of communication with the local minister, heard no less strange outraged almost screams from redheads who had come "from the barn to the ball", that is, in a place where a lot of real European political elite gathered.
Amused Bulgarian troll, with a smart look listening to the locals, pretended not to understand English, although Pierre said about him that this wizard compensated for the lack of strength with brains, and knows about a dozen of the most common languages. "Delivered" was the curse among the families gathered here. By the way, I put an astral mark on Crouch's elf, just in case, and on the man himself.
Anyway, Gabby and I managed to enjoy the show to the fullest, even giggling, but in such a way that no one paid much attention to us. Although, I have to admit, we did attract attention, all of us without exception.
And if the Minister and his "ministers" only looked at us and immediately changed places, the Malfoys obviously appreciated it and even nodded importantly, got the same answer and remained satisfied — it was noticeable by the look of the older one, about the younger one we won't say anything — he was absolutely obedient to the older one. Then the reaction, apparently Ron — evaluation, wiggling, envy.
That's it. The curly-haired girl turned out to be characteristically a girl, i.e. she immediately assessed our clothes, our style, and clearly noticed Gabby's platinum jewelry (two hairpins in her hair, neat earrings with sky-blue sapphires, a pendant on a chain, three beautiful, finely crafted rings on her fingers — all without exception enchanted by the very "impossible" protective artifacts).
The whole examination took a second. The girl weakly bit her lip and walked over to me. She wore a blood-red shirt, a black waistcoat embroidered with a special black silk thread, a steel-colored coat and trousers, and in her hand she held a cane with an eagle's head. The girl involuntarily glanced at her friends, glanced at them all, glanced at the Malfoys.
Well, I liked her reaction and the thoughtful glances at the redheaded buddy. But when the redheaded younger woman looked back at me and my company, I felt a sense of rejection. No, not a threat, but it was the same look I'd seen in my life from envious people who didn't want to do anything for themselves, who thought someone else had to share.
I noticed how she "discreetly" waved to one of the older sons and whispered something to him, and then this "macho" started to stare at Fleur. So that's what you look like, Bill Weasley! Well... nothing special, although his long, well-groomed hair and general neatness stand out.
I could tell from the cold fingers squeezing my palm that Gabby had noticed something, too. When we sat down, this lucky guy tried to take the seat next to Fleur, but he didn't take into account something...