The Christmas party was held in Professor Slughorn's rooms, where the Slug club usually gathered, but expanded and decorated even more lavishly than usual.

The head of the Slytherin house was an inveterate hedonist, and anyone who knew about good things would have noticed the high quality in the discreet carpets, in the fluffy pile of which your feet'd sank, in the elegant trays with drinks and canapés scurrying past the guests, and in the music unobtrusively pouring through the hall decorated in warm beige and golden tones.

In addition to Horace's favorites, there were many former members of the Slug Club, now graduates of previous years, respected and successful wizards.

Severus was not interested in such a company, since he was unsociable, but the more agile of his housemates surely could use such a collection of potentially useful connections if needed. Well, godspeed. Here and now, he was only interested in one person, whom he looked out for in the sparse crowd, becoming even more gloomy in contrast to his ordinary self due to his attempts not to look too.. excited. Ah. Here she is.

In an olive-green dress, with tight flaming curls gathered in a bun, a green-eyed girl with a soft blush on her cheeks looked like a bisque doll.

Lily was lightly swinging a high-stemmed glass in her fingers, a slice of orange floating in a red drink. With her head slightly tilted, she listened to the conversation of the other girls, but once he's going to approach, putting on an independent look, she was pulled out of the company of her peers by his dean. Morgana curse the bloody gaffer and his timings.

Professor Slughorn, beaming with benevolence, leads his student to a small group of witches and wizards in representative robes — perhaps to introduce her, although Severus does not hear the conversation. But sees polite friendliness, can guess the exchange of pleasantries, a couple of sparkling jokes..

A tray suddenly obscures the conversationalists from his view, and he feels like he came out of a dream.