The worst part about any Gala was simply making it inside. There were media, other guests, and Merlin knew what else blocking them from making a quick and easy entrance. Marcus bloody hated it. He'd been playing this social game long enough to know that the entrance was what the whole evening was about. Unless something scandalous happened inside, everyone wanted to know who showed up with who and who was wearing what. Seemed like a big bloody hassle for nothing.
"Try matching shoes, might give you an edge," he commented, content to let anything and everything Oliver Wood slid into the wastebasket. At her question about the dress, he glanced back to her and gave her a once over. "I never said I didn't like it." He wasn't exactly an expert on female fashion unless you counted taking it off. He supposed, he did appreciate how it showed off her leg. "It's nice."
He glanced down as she brushed his jacket, raising an eyebrow with some amusement. "You're not used to them yet?" he questioned, entertained. He didn't mind them, though he usually had very different reasons for attending ... none of which he could currently indulge in. "The difficult part's done with. The rest is nothing."