You walked through the portrait of the Slytherin room. The music was deafening loud. It smelled like alcohol and sweat. The dark green light added an atmosphere that perfectly fitted the vibe of the party. You looked around concerned as you spotted who you had been afraid you would find. Barty. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the bruises from the many fights he had gotten himself into in the last months. He held a half empty fire whiskey bottle which you were sure wasn’t his first.