Louis simply hated suits.
Yet there he was, in dark grey suit, the one he was forced to buy for Victoire's wedding, white buttoned up shirt and black tie his mother bought him for his last birthday. He wore that tie only once since then when Fleur organised a party with dress code for Bill's birthday, he felt like a penguin back then. That didn't change – he still felt like a penguin in a suit.
He stubbed out his cigarette, smoking was a bad habit he collected during his stay in France, fixed his tie looking in a mirror and exited the bathroom, discreetly throwing away the cigarette. Smoking wasn't actually allowed here but he didn't care. Louis was here only because he felt an obligation to help those in need so he had to attend this event.
"Weasley…. Louis." He added his name, uncertain if any of his relatives was coming. Maybe he'd knew that if he wasn't avoiding them even before he left to spend a month in France without telling any of them. They were probably pissed at him, anyways. At least he would be if he was any of them.
The man on the entrance of the ballroom glanced at the paper, checking the list. Louis' eyes followed his pen moving down the list until it finally stopped and the man wrote something next to, Louis' name. "Mr Weasley, you've got the number 31. I'll take you to your table." The man entered the ballroom with Louis following close behind and admiring the decorations they set all around the room, but did it so perfect they looked like a real work of art.
They stopped near a table in the corner, which indeed had a number 31 written in calligraphy on a vase filled with one red rose in the middle of the table.
"Thank you, Sir. Could I know who am I dining with?" Louis asked politely, although he knew he won't get any satisfying answer.
"I'm sorry, Sir, that information is classified. The only thing I can tell you is that that person announced she'll arrive any second now, so I must excuse myself. I'll send the waiter to take your order. Have a great night, Sir." With that, the man excused himself and Louis took a seat, using the time before the arrival of his companion to check surroundings more carefully. All the tables in the ballroom were already occupied, only two people sitting at each table.
The band was warming up on the stage and Louis already decided he doesn't like them.
This is going to be a long evening.
Why couldn't he just send a check?
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