Oh god. This brought back memories of every high-society party that he'd been dragged to as a kid. In his mind, she was every booze-chugging, pill-popping, lipstick wearing, cheek-pinching, snide-talking, hair-dyeing, martyr-complex-having, old-money-smelling lady he'd ever been forced to be nice to all rolled into one and getting drinks from house elves. It set him on edge.

He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and gave her a "You're not impressing me one bit, you know" look which may have been more intimidating if he hadn't been dressed like he'd just rolled out of bed and if he'd been a few inches taller. "So... who are you exactly?"