OVERWHELMING.

That was the only word that Thornton could think of to describe what was happening in front of him. He had been at parties before, sure, but they were the sort of gatherings full of adults in formal attire, with soft classical music playing, and kitchen staff circulating with trays of appetizers. Parties where Thornton would make an appearance in his dress robes, greet guests, and perhaps dance with his mother or offer a cello solo.

This? This was madness.

Thornton could feel beads of sweat at his temples, threatening to run down the side of his face, and he dabbed at them with his sleeve. He wandered over to the table of food, but the array of sweets and sodas was completely foreign to him, and he feared making another mistake as he had on the train with the Bott's beans. Chewing nervously on the inside of his mouth, he kept moving, only to find himself far too close to the mattresses and the surfing for his comfort.

His heart beat faster and his blinked rapidly, scanning the room. THERE. There was a quiet corner where no one would see him... he hoped.

Weaving through the crowd of Ravenclaws, Thornton squeezed into the small space between an armchair and the wall, curling up on the floor with his knees to his chest.

It would be curfew soon, right?