Touring the Party with the Little Old Man
After the ceremony, guests rushed forward to congratulate the couple, and the garden became lively again.
Regulus noticed that there were a few more people in the direction of the Entrance Hall. They arrived during the ceremony and did not interrupt the process. They stood in the back and watched the whole process quietly, and are now walking inside.
Harold·Minchum, Minister for Magic.
He is of medium build and has a rosy complexion. He is wearing the dark purple formal suit that Baruk first praised in the newspaper as being good-looking, but he later corrected him and later said it was not good-looking. He wears the ministerial badge of Ministry of Magic on his chest.
Next to him were several attendants wearing Ministry of Magic standard robes. Their faces appeared frequently on the front page of <The Daily Prophet>. They were all people from Minister's Office.
Minchum walked up to Abraxas and the two shook hands.
"Mr. Malfoy, congratulations." Mingche's mother's Sonorus, at the standard volume in public, can be heard by everyone present.
"Mr. Minister, you are here despite your busy schedule. Malfoy family is honored." Abraxas also spoke politely.
"Ministry of Magic has always attached great importance to the good relationship with all Pureblood familiess," Mingche's mother smiled kindly, "Wizarding World's stability is the common interest of every family. Today's happy event is also a good thing for the entire Wizarding World."
"Mr. Minister is right," Abraxas answered smoothly, "Malfoy family has always been a defender of order. We admire Ministry of Magic's work very much and look forward to more in-depth cooperation in the future."
The two of them smiled and shook hands, both satisfied.
Everyone knows the relationship between Malfoy family and Voldemort. Minchum came, appeared on this occasion, shook hands with Abraxas and exchanged greetings.
Being present is a statement in itself. Ministry of Magic intends to move closer to Pure-blood Faction. At least at this stage, he will not fall out with him.
A purely political animal, with a keen sense of smell, a soft body, and knows which way the wind is blowing.
Minchum, Lucius and Narcissa briefly congratulated. "Young man, happy wedding."
Then he left with his follower Apparition.
He came, showed his face, shook hands, spoke, and left.
The time is accurate to the minute, no more than a second will be given.
The newlyweds temporarily withdrew, and the guests moved back to the main building from the garden.
The hall has been rearranged during the ceremony. A dozen long tables are lined up along the wall, covered with dark silver tablecloths. Silver Instruments are lined up from spoons to forks, and Crystal cups are arranged in three layers.
The Crystal Ball floating above the head changed from white gold to warm gold. The light softened and fell on the Silver Instruments and Crystal cups, creating a warm halo.
The central main table is the longest, with Lucius and Narcissa sitting in the middle, flanked by the core figures of both families, Abraxas and Orion sitting at both ends, Walburga next to Narcissa.
The main table is surrounded by Sacred Twenty-Eight and Patriarch level, holding wine glasses with relaxed postures.
Regulus didn't go over there, but took a plate, put a few slices of smoked salmon and a piece of Roast Lamb Chops, and then took a glass of Abraxas's private collection of goblin distilled liquor from the wine table.
This is good stuff. Goblin from Gringotts is brewed using a special process deep in the underground vault. The liquor is dark amber in color. Each bottle has the serial number goblin engraved in silver. It is said that the annual output is less than thirty bottles.
Baruk moved in his inner pocket, two amber eyes poked out from the edge of the collar, staring at the piece of Roast Lamb Chops, and his chelicerae clicked lightly.
Regulus looked down at it, took a fork and cut off a small piece of mutton, and when no one was around, he flicked it to the chest.
Baruk's two front legs stretched out from the mouth of the bag, hugged the piece of meat, and retracted it with a swish.
A small gnawing sound came from the inner bag, and the chelicerae occasionally came out of the bag mouth, and then quickly retracted it.
Slughorn floated over from Corridor, holding a glass of the same distilled liquor goblin, holding a piece of strawberry dipped in chocolate sauce in his other hand, his round face full of satisfaction.
Seeing Regulus, his eyes suddenly lit up. "Regulus! Come on, come on, there are a few people you need to know."
He walked over quickly and without any explanation, put one hand on Regulus's shoulder and held the wine glass in the other hand. The chocolate sauce from the strawberry almost touched Regulus's collar.
Regulus put the plate on the table next to him, with a hint of helplessness in his eyes, and let him drag him towards the crowd.
The first one to be stopped was a France wizard, in dark blue ceremonial robes, with silver collar buttons, in his forties, with short brown hair, and a well-groomed face. He was poking a piece of caramel pudding with a fork.
Slughorn changed the wine glass to the hand that was resting on Regulus's shoulder, and freed up his right hand to make gestures for introduction, his face glowing with pride.
"Pierre! You must know this one, Regulus·Black, Heir of the Black family, one of the most talented students I have ever taught, Potions and Transfiguration are both outstanding--
Regulus, this is Mr. Pierre de Montmorency, a direct descendant of the Montmorency family, a famous family in the French pure-blood world, a master of potions, and runs the best potion raw material supply business in Europe in Paris."
After speaking in one breath, he took a breath and wiped the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief.
Montmorency took a look at Regulus. With the reserve wrapped in the unique politeness of France people, he obviously did not recognize this name, but the surname Black is enough for everywhere. Coupled with the attitude of Slughorn and the looks of the two UK wizards next to him, he nodded and stretched out his hand.
The accent is the standard accent of English in French-speaking areas, with each vowel pronounced fully. "Mr. Black."
It's not arrogant, nor does it pay much attention. It's more about giving Slughorn face.
Regulus didn't care. He also gave Slughorn face. He stretched out his hand and shook it with a decent gesture. "Mr. Montmorency."
Slughorn stepped in with a smile from the side, "Pierre, don't underestimate this kid. His foundation in Potions is stronger than most n. e. w. t. candidates, even though he doesn't pay much attention to it himself."
Montmorency raised his eyebrows and looked at Regulus a little more seriously this time.
He put down the fork in his hand and asked casually, "Since Horace praises you so much, Mr. Black, what do you think of the Bezoar antidote? For example, when Basilisk Venom and Dragon Blood are mixed and poisoned, how should the order of use of Bezoar be adjusted?"
A very tricky question, far beyond the standard questions in textbooks, involves the priority judgment of two high-threat toxins and the adsorption saturation limit of Bezoar.
After Montmorency asked, the corners of his mouth turned up proudly, waiting to see how this amazingly talented young man would answer.
Regulus is a little speechless, what are you doing?
He glanced sideways at the little old man, Slughorn was looking at him expectantly.
Regulus shrugged and said in a casual tone, "Bezoar gives priority to Basilisk Venom, Dragon Blood The action mechanism of the toxin is slower, and the window period is enough for a second dose, but Bezoar must be replaced immediately after adsorbing Basilisk Venom, and the same one cannot be reused without treating Dragon Blood toxins. The adsorption of snake venom by Bezoar will form crystals on the surface, blocking subsequent adsorption capabilities."
The corners of Montmorency's mouth retracted a little.
There is nothing wrong with the answer. Even the details of Bezoar adsorption crystallization are given. The direction is right, the terminology is right, and the logic is clear.
But his tone was too calm, like he was reading from a textbook. There was no excitement or curiosity to ask further questions. This child had enough brains and sufficient knowledge reserves, but his eyes did not have the fanaticism of the Potions teacher.
He turned his head and glanced at Slughorn, his expression a little confused and a little teasing. "Horace, you are a student with very solid knowledge."
Slughorn laughed, with a look of understanding on his face, and spread his hands. "This kid's mind is not on Potions. I can't do anything about him. He really has talent, but he just doesn't want to put more thought into it--"
Then he sighed in pretense of distress, "Oh, all children with great talents are like this."
He patted Montmorency on the shoulder and winked at Regulus.
If we cooperate well, we will have another fight.
Regulus smiled, held the wine glass, and followed the pace of the little old man.
The second one is an old wizard from Eastern Europe, Vladimir Petkov, from Bulgaria, the main branch of Petkov family. He is short in stature, has extremely broad shoulders, and has a white beard that extends from his ears to his chin.
When Slughorn introduced it, he said that Petkov family had a monopoly in the Fire Dragon trade. Old Petkov grinned, showing his teeth that were yellowed by smoke. When he shook hands with Regulus, his hand was so strong that it could crush the bones of ordinary people.
"Black family, I know," his English accent was very thick, and the r sound was rolled particularly hard, "Orion·Black, Wizengamot, very powerful."
Then there was a middle-aged witch from Ireland with red hair tied into a thick braid hanging on her shoulders and freckles on her face. Slughorn introduced her as one of the best talisman engravers in Europe.
She waved her hand, and her voice was sharp, but with a warm-hearted affinity. "Horace, you are too polite."
After speaking, he turned to Regulus and stretched out his hand. "Dier Dere O'Brien, your surname is Black. I know the talisman tradition of Black family. There are several things passed down from your family. No one can do the engraving process until now."
Regulus raised his eyebrows. He didn't know anything about Black family's talisman tradition.
But he did not stop talking nonsense, and said humbly, "That is the craft of my great-grandfather's generation, and there are not many people in the family who can make engravings."
The last person to be stopped was a UK local wizard wearing a flashy orange vest, Barnabas Kaf, the senior editor of <The Daily Prophet>.
The color of the vest is so bright that it is still eye-catching under the warm golden light. It is paired with a dark purple tie, and the tie clip is a miniature printing press model that can rotate on its own.
He and Slughorn are obviously old friends. As soon as they met, they patted each other on the shoulders. One said you have gained weight again, and the other said that your vest has caused substantial damage to my eyes.
The two laughed for a while, and then Slughorn introduced Regulus: "Regulus·Black, Heir of the Black family, one of my most outstanding students, with a limitless future."
Kaf's eyes are sharper than those of the previous ones. After all, he works in the news.
"Mr. Black, Jiu Yang, last time I wanted to report what happened to Christmas Banquet, but I was suppressed by the superiors. You know, some things are not easy to report."
Regulus looked confused for a moment.
This guy is really courageous. Do you want me to tell you what Voldemort and Horcruxes are?
"Mr. Kaf, today's wedding is more worthy of reporting."
Kaf was stunned for a moment, then laughed out loud, "Yes, yes, you can talk at today's wedding."
Every time I introduce someone, Slughorn will add, my most proud student has amazing talent and unlimited future.
The little old man never lowered his lips and enjoyed it very much.
The foreign wizards didn't quite know who Regulus was, but they could see that when the local wizards around UK looked at this boy, their eyes were at least level with him.
Some people bowed slightly to say hello, some held wine glasses in his direction, and some slowed down when passing by and made sure they were seen by him before walking over.
It is not normal for a thirteen-year-old child to be treated like this in a social circle of this level. There is a story in it.
Slughorn saw it all, smiling and cheering the whole time. Regulus followed the little old man and cooperated the whole time.
Before heading to the next target, Regulus said in a regretful tone, "Professor, Avery is calling me."
The little old man followed Regulus's gaze and saw that Avery was not far from his father, waving his hand in this direction excitedly.
Slughorn patted Regulus on the shoulder and let him go graciously. "Let's go, let's chat, you young people. There is an old acquaintance over there who just happened to go over and say hello."
Regulus politely bid farewell to the professor and walked towards Avery.
In fact, Avery didn't see him just now, but Magic is so convenient.