Yaxley never did anything so obvious as look down at the boy's Mark. He knew it was there without having to look, without being shown. Odd that He should claim children such as this, who had been proven unworthy at their Sorting. He said nothing aloud, though, merely gesturing at the door and putting a hand in the small of Melinda's back to usher her through, the appropriate gesture with a younger female family member.
Appropriate or not, Melinda hated it when he touched her. She glanced over at Marek, where Yaxley wouldn't be able to see, and made a face. Little defiances like that would get her through the evening. Otherwise, she allowed herself to be led to a seat, adjusting her sleeves as she sat in such a way that her grandfather would be unable to avoid spotting the Mark.