Yule Ball '77

[Professor Albus Dumbledore]

Christmas was nearly upon them – quite literally, too, as it was a mere two days away. With how the calendar fell this year, the Yule Ball and the train to take students home for the holidays fell rather last-minute. Tonight would be a great note on which to end the term, though. Looking up at the enchanted ceiling, it was easily to see that it was a clear night with not a cloud in the sky. In the few hours that had passed between supper and now, the Great Hall had been miraculously transformed. The tables were all shrunken and set aside near the walls, clearing the middle of the hall to make room for the many students sure to be dancing and socialising throughout the evening. On the rise where the staff table normally stood, there was instead musical equipment for the popular band, The Whozards. The band itself (mostly Hufflepuff graduates, Albus remembered with a fond smile) was in the staff room, putting last touches on their outfits while they waited for their cue to come out and start playing. Professor Flitwick had worked hard all evening, stringing fairy lights throughout the hall in different colours, and the fairies would giggle and wave whenever people passed by underneath. Professor Sprout had arranged a wide assortment of decorative, festive plants, rimmed with silver trimmings that made them glisten and twinkle in the light. A little out from the wall, on the side of the hall where the Slytherin table normally stood, was a long, skinny table filled with snacks, desserts and beverages – Argus was in charge of ensuring that no one decided to “spike” anything, though Albus had to admit that he wouldn’t be surprised if there was an attempt (he was sure that, back in the day, he would have done the very same thing). Quite honestly, he wouldn’t blame a student for attempting to help relax everyone and allow them to loosen up – not that he’d allow it, no, of course not – but the students had all been through a number of ordeals already this term. Albus’s heart went out to young Lyle Malarkey, who had been molested and injured severely in Hogsmeade in what was not a Death Eater crime, but a hate crime simply because the boy was shamelessly attracted to other boys. A Ravenclaw had been injured as well in what seemed like a random beating. And, most horrifying of all was the recent attack on St. Mungo’s.

Had it really been twenty days ago? It did seem like it happened only yesterday. Albus remembered with horrifying clarity when Dilys Derwent rushed into her portrait and bellowed for Albus, saying that the hospital was under attack from Death Eaters. Voldemort – Tom, as Albus preferred to call him – had sent some of his followers to inflict as much damage to the hospital as they could; he had hoped that James Potter and Lily Evans would be summoned to the scene and then brought to him. Fortunately, Albus had been able to alert what few Order members he could, and with the help of Aurors from the Ministry, the Death Eaters had been outnumbered and fled. One had even been apprehended; as proud as the success of an Auror and Order member in-training made him, it still saddened Albus to recognise one of his recent graduates as the man behind the mask. Young minds were incredibly impressionable, especially in a society that prided itself on being elitist. He felt sorrier still for the other young minds that attended St. Mungo’s on that fateful day: current students at Hogwarts, all there for various reasons. Some had check-ups that Madam Pomfrey simply did not have the specialist training to perform herself. Some were visiting family members or friends, and others were there because of an interest in being a Healer once graduated and were “shadowing” employees there. After the merciless deaths of so many Healers, Albus couldn’t help but wonder if some of them chose to change their career focus. He rather hoped not, seeing as the hospital now had a severe shortage of staff and the world could always use more Healers; however, after everything they had been forced to witness, he wouldn’t blame them if they had. Fortunately, most seemed to be recovering from the attack, though some were still quite nervous and traumatised. This year marked the first in Albus’s days of being Headmaster that students requested to be sent home for a while because they no longer felt safe at the school. Tom Riddle would not attack Hogwarts, Albus knew, but his followers… some of them clearly did not feel the same.

But tonight was not the night to think about that. Oh, Albus was sure that it would remain on his mind, of course. But he would not stop himself from having fun at the ball; nor, he was sure, would the other students. It was a wonderful opportunity for them to dress up, show their classier side, and let themselves be enveloped in a different kind of magic. There was a reason, Albus was certain, that many Christmas stories, both wizard and Muggle alike, tended to contain miracles. Things happened this time of year that even Albus himself could not explain. Part of him wondered if there was a special section for ‘holiday magic’ in the Department of Mysteries. Perhaps tonight, they could all file their troubles away, put them out of their minds for a few hours, and let the evening take them wherever they went. He couldn’t help but notice some apprehensive faces as students began to file into the Great Hall. Some came alone, either waiting for friends or their date. There were groups of students, there were couples; some looked nervous, others beside themselves with excitement. Albus smiled down at them, stepping forward in his silver-and-violet dress robes, extending his arms out from his body in welcome as the hall filled up. “Good evening,” he said warmly, his eyes twinkling as he noticed some of the nervous students relaxing a bit. “It is my pleasure to welcome you all to the Yule Ball. Before we begin, I would like to extend a special thank-you to all the professors who assisted in the organisation and decorations for everything you see tonight.” He looked fondly at his staff, clapping his hands together lightly for a few moments while they were applauded. “We have some special guests at Hogwarts tonight, and you may have heard of them,” he smiled. “Please join me in welcoming The Whozards!” There was a burst of applause and cheering as the band ran out from the staff room, their arms raised and hands posed in what Albus assumed was the ‘rock on’ sign. They set about organising their instruments and the lead singer gave Albus the ‘a-ok’ sign, indicating that they were ready. Albus turned to address the students again. “And now for some final words before the music drowns me out entirely: Oddsbodikens!” With that, the band burst into song, and he extended a hand to Professor McGonagall for the first dance.

The Yule Ball had begun.

This was a time of the year Minerva McGonagall anticipated with a fairly even blending of both antipathy and subdued excitement. Of course it was a rather jovial season and the castle was really done up quite festively, but there was a lot of... extraneous dramatics on the behalf of the students that she really loathed dealing with. It was the worst time of year for her Prefects as well, seeing as they constantly had to address pranks and such going on at night; boys warring over which girls to ask, a few fights here and there, and then Peeves, of course, always antagonizing the girls about who they want to ask them to the Yule Ball... she rolled her eyes just thinking about it. She had pinned her hair back exceptionally tightly this evening just to emphasize the fact that she wasn’t going to tolerate any tomfoolery. Her robes were severe, as usual, and suggested she was a very dignified woman of strict principles, which, of course, she openly was. Just because she was dancing tonight and all her students were going to let loose didn’t mean she was going to let loose. Minerva McGonagall did not let loose and certainly Minerva McGonagall did not let her guard down on a night where perhaps everyone’s save Professor Dumbledore’s eyes were turned on festivity rather than malfeasance. Argus was notoriously stupid when it came to these events, at any rate. As proven by last year, when she had so much as looked away for five minutes to share a polite conversation with Filius Flitwick, some foolish Gryffindor boy had attempted to pour Firewhiskey into the punch and Argus had barely even noticed. His cat had noticed before him. Well, that was the last time that happened, she was sure of that. Oh, it made her blood boil just to think of it! And the shame of deducting points from her own House! Unthinkable, though she had done it many times before. Gryffindors seemed to have a particular penchant for trouble it seemed, she thought with a tight-lipped grimace. At any rate, she expected there would be less trouble this year at the Ball. Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew had all graduated, so there really couldn’t be that much trouble to stir up. She had heard tell of the fact that Peter and Remus were visiting for the Ball as dates to their friends, but of the foursome those two had always been the absolute least of Minerva’s worries, and she doubted she would have anything to say to them but kind words of welcome. She tried not to have favorites––really she did, since it was a hateful basic tendency of many professors and one which she strived most ardently to avoid––but Remus Lupin was one of the best Prefects she had ever had, and truthfully she had wished to appoint him as Head Boy if it had not been for Albus’s strong words for Potter. She still wasn’t quite certain how he managed to convince her of that one, but Albus had his ways and his ways often worked with her, she thought with a barely perceivable tilt of her lips. Albus could readily convince her of anything, she was sure––she invested quite a great deal of faith in the man, more than was socially acceptable. But how could she help it? He was the most intelligent specimen of human life she had ever had the fortune of encountering, and she adored him with the adoration of a sister to a brother. Albus Dumbledore was her closest confidante, her most trusted and valued companion, and she loved him dearly. She respected and admired and looked up to him, and she would forever, she suspected. No one else had ever had such an effect on her. But he was different; he had always held a sort of natural charisma about him, even though his plethora of intelligence of course had been the thing to initially attract Minerva. She learned from him everyday; a vast pool of wisdom, he was, and a pool with countless tributaries. To Minerva, he was Hogwarts, body and spirit, and she watched this theory of hers come true day after day after month after month after year after year.

After he finished his speech, she smiled politely and took his hand and swirled out onto the dance floor, her black and green robes swishing as she moved. His choice of robes was––well––very Albus, she thought with a wry twist of her mouth, but even though she personally found his taste in fashion to be somewhat... overwhelming at times, she focused her attention on his kind wrinkled face and on the students around them, making sure no one was up to anything unethical while she and her old bones were moving around the dance floor. No one escaped Minerva McGonagall’s watchful eye. She narrowed them subtly and pressed her lips into a line as she eyed the punch.

The Yule Ball had begun.

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[deaglan]

THE LOOKING GLASS SO SHINY AND NEW
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HOW QUICKLY THE GLAMOUR FADES

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This isn't as bad as it looks. Deaglan simply wants to please everyone, and everyone should have the opportunity to go to the ball. He was going to pick up Alessa first because she did not specify at what time she would like to arrive at the ball, and at a quarter after eight he would get Daciana. He was becoming very good at juggling several people at one time, he rarely ever was caught. Daciana was considered a friend and a pretty one at that, and her unwillingness to originally go to the ball served to make Deaglan believe she actually did want to go. Alessandra was a Gryffindor almost opposite of Daciana; one whose classy demeanor and ravishing features had caught his attention from the first time he saw her. Sure when it came down to it, Deaglan really had his own reasons for wanting to go with two different women - for example, he had two dates instead of one and that was really something to be proud of. He also liked them both, and being the indecisive bloke that he was, Deaglan was never going to pick. The simplest solution was to ask both ladies and part with them to get them a drink or see a friend, use the loo or just lose "sight" of one of them in the crowd. Then he could enjoy the party with the other person and both girls would have a nice night. It was an idea that sprung to him when he couldn't make the decision of Alessandra or Daciana. Anyway, complicated was the way that life worked for Deaglan and to not have that kind of tension in the atmosphere would feel most abnormal. He straightened the tie around his neck, being a tie person, and laced up his shoes. Deaglan was going to meet Alessa at seven forty-five pm, escort her to the ball, get her a drink and settled, at which point, he would pick up Daciana at eight fifteen pm and repeat the process. The Great Hall was very large and it would be full of people, so the largest concern he had was not getting caught but being unable to find his dates once he had left them.

Deaglan walked up the dungeon steps, being sure to make a swift room out of the common room because his second date for the night was in Slytherin. He went toward the Gryffindor tower and no one really said anything to him. The normal jabs and jeers one might expect when a Slytherin was creeping in on your domain was not there, mostly because the students either did not know him or knew him as the kind of guy who they didn’t think should even be in Slytherin. He was an “okay guy.” To them, at least. Put him around Paris Parkinson and you get a completely different personality altogether. All the paintings smiled at him as he walked up the winding steps, perhaps imagining themselves being free from the mantle of the wall and going to the dance themselves. Deaglan was very put together for a teenage boy; no socks sticking awkwardly out of his shoes or hair in disarray – he even smelt good. Boys at Hogwarts really could be quite the mess but most of them knew just to clean up when occasion called for it. Since he really was supposed to be wearing green in order to match Alessa, his tie had green on it while his suit was dark. The tie he would change later when he went to get Daciana, as she would likely think it too cliché for a Slytherin to wear. He didn’t mind wearing a basic tie but he did however, hate cufflinks and so he glared down at them often. He came to a stop outside of the common room, although he could easily see in for how many times the Fat Lady swung open to allow students out. Some of them were sweating, others were laughing hysterically, and some said absolutely nothing at all. When he could see Alessa he smiled at her, waiting for her to come to him for obvious reasons.

Noah Orchard passed by and he nodded his head at him. On rare occasion the two of them would butt heads, since in an odd sort of way they competed with each other for women, but on the most part they got along fairly well. Noah was a hard guy to argue with and well, Deaglan always set out to be pleasing. Never mind that Deaglan thought really little more of him than that of a drunk. In his hand Deaglan grasped softly a corsage to put on Alessa’s wrist. A third year who had his adrenaline already pumping for the night nudged shoulders with Deaglan and smiled widely, talking in his best Irish accent. His best Irish accent unfortunately, sounded more Australian than anything. Deaglan gave a pretend laugh and shook hands with him as he passed, saving the roll of his eyes until after the kid was gone. His accent had ceased to fade, despite the many years he had spent in England. He could lie about most things, but Deaglan had found he did a really bad impression of other accents, and so he learned, unlike that third year student, not to attempt it. He also used various slang that made little sense to people on the England Island, but he gave him a bit of character that he otherwise would not have. He waited patiently outside the door, not in the least bit of hurry for the dance. Deaglan wasn’t that keen on large gatherings merely because it made being a certain kind of person more difficult. How many people can you be in front of everyone? It was easier in a one-on-one situation, but in order to get better one had to practice. He still wanted to go to the dance, because the Yule Ball felt like a rite of passage in Hogwarts. If you didn’t go to the dance you really didn’t experience school the way you should have. When Alessa did pass through the door and stood in front of him, Deaglan smiled at her, pulling out the corsage to fasten it to her wrist. “Beautiful,” he said simply, taking in her elaborate dress choice.

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tags;; Alessandra
music;; Rabbit Heart - Florence + The Machine
notes;; I thought I would post for Alessandra, have her take her to the dance, and then Deaglan would pick up Daciana. Sound good?

[luciusmalfoy]

[/color]

He was wearing a white bowtie, and it truly bothered him. Of course, Lucius realised that he could easily exchange it with any other tie in his rather-vast collection (it was actually quite sickening, the number of ties that he owned, though he imagined that he must have a reason for each; as wealthy as Lucius was, matters of fashion were secondary to other purposes for his money, so for him to have this assortment of ties must have meant that each one served a different suit or formal occasion). However, his mother had sent this particular suit from home, insisting that it was the proper one to wear to the Yule Ball. The bowtie had been included, so with a small, sideways frown, Lucius simply adjusted it around his jugular and squared his shoulders. He looked handsome enough, he supposed. He ought to, at any rate. His hair was combed back, though not heavily gelled as he rather hated the feel of the gel – not to mention it was hell to clean. (That, and he didn’t think Narcissa much liked his hair slicked, but that was neither here nor there.) He adjusted his sleeves, taking another glance at his cufflinks. They were made entirely of diamonds and emeralds, glittering silver and green, and he was sure they had cost more than his entire suit. Making sure that they were still clean and glittering, he took a final look in the mirror and smoothed back his hair with his palms. He was to meet Narcissa in the common room and they would walk together to the Great Hall. It was how the two of them spent quite a bit of their time these days: together. The encounter in the bathroom had changed things for them; Lucius stopped feeling a need to close himself away from Narcissa, and he realised how imbecilic it had been to keep her at a distance. She was not a threat to him in any way; he was attracted to her, and had been taken with her ever since they were children. Courtship between them made sense, and Narcissa was certainly not someone of whom he should be ashamed. She was a pureblood, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She was beautiful. She was intelligent. She was proud. She was, essentially, the picture-perfect image of a promising future. Could Lucius see them getting married and procreating and furthering the Malfoy bloodline? To be honest, no. Not yet. Their courtship had barely begun, and they did have quite a way to go before those plans truly came into question. But Lucius had to admit that a part of him longed for that future; part of him wanted that future with Cissy.

Still, he couldn’t deny that he was… distracted, as of late. His mother’s updates from home concerning the health of his father were becoming more and more frequent. In truth, Lucius was becoming rather distressed over the news. Abraxas’s health was rapidly deteriorating, and Lucius wanted to be home. Dragon pox wasn’t incurable; if his father still had it, that meant that by now, there wasn’t a strong chance of him being able to pull through and survive. There was the nasty thought in the back of Lucius’s mind telling him that his father could die from his illness, but Lucius tried not to pay it any mind. It was becoming increasingly difficult, however, even with his new relationship with Cissy to occupy his time. He could devote himself to Cissy physically, but his mind… it would only be half there, because there was always a part set on his family at home. For the first time, Lucius was eager to go home for the holidays. And depending on… the outcome… Lucius would be lying to himself if he said he was sure he would return to the school. As much as he was enjoying his relationship with Cissy and the time he was (finally) spending with her, his family came first, always. If he needed to, he would choose to stay home and tend to his father. He was of age now, and had enough magical qualification for him to get by in life. Not to mention, he was wealthy enough that he would never require a job; if he ever chose to get one, he was certain his money and his connections would be far more useful than what he could remember from textbooks. What was he thinking, though? Abraxas was not dead, and Lucius was determined that he wouldn’t die. Lucius wanted him to live, and Lucius was used to getting what he wanted. There was a part of him realistic enough to know that this could not always be true, but in an uncharacteristically optimistic way, he… was hoping for the best.

He had told Narcissa nothing of the troubles facing him at home. And, he hoped he never had to. If Abraxas could beat the pox ailing him, Lucius could move on and focus more on her. While it was true that the odd, horrible distance he’d set between them was gone, with his distraction and worries, he was beginning to close off from her again. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her with the information. Lucius almost never shared the details of his personal home life with anyone who wasn’t immediate family. The only person he’d told, however offhandedly, that his father had taken ill was Jezebel Sauveterre, but he had not told her it was dragon pox, nor did he inform her that the condition was worsening by the day. Lucius was not one to whine or complain, and he hated pity more than anything. Telling Narcissa the truth and then seeing a look of blatant pity in her eyes… It was not something he wanted for them. And, he didn’t want Narcissa to think he was lying to her, telling her this as a way to get closer to her or to trick her into sympathy-sex. His lip curled at the very thought. They had not yet reached that point in their relationship (though they had had numerous heated, passionate snogs in broom closets and behind statues that often left Lucius breathless; Cissy would always left the closet first, and he would force himself to think of Bubotuber Pus or that great oaf of a gamekeeper to calm himself down), and Lucius did not want the first time to be out of comfort or pity. With a small pang, he recalled that it would not be his first time, but he had already decided what he would do if the subject was brought up. He would tell Narcissa it was not his first time, but the girl who had taken his virtue was no one of import. He would tell her it was a severe mistake in judgement on his part, and something he regretted, but he could not take it back. However Narcissa reacted would determine if he needed to say more, though he figured that would suffice. But he didn’t need to think about that right now; their relationship had not reached a sexual level, and he was sure it would not for a long time. They didn’t need to be married, nor did they need to be in love, but Lucius was not about to risk either of their futures – especially Narcissa’s, who still had another year of school after this one – for a night of passion.

He adjusted his bowtie once more before exiting the dorm. Many of his house-mates had already gone down to the Great Hall. He held back a sneer as he recalled some of their dates of choice. Regulus was going with that awful Sauveterre girl; not only was she several years younger, and a half-blood, but she was the most irritating brat Lucius had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He recalled disdainfully that Narcissa… well, he wouldn’t say she was fond of her, but apparently they, too, had known each other since childhood as Narcissa’s father had invested in the Falmouth Falcons. Obviously she felt an obligation to be nice to her, which Lucius figured he could forgive, but he still hated that she had managed to blackmail him. He hadn’t told Cissy what had happened, nor did he plan to as the humiliation still stung. But, he supposed he managed to exact his revenge. He was the editor of her little paper, after all, and she was not even a part of it. He forced himself to stop thinking of unpleasant people when he reached the door leading out of the common room. It wasn’t long before he felt a hand on his arm; he had been toying with his cufflinks in boredom while he waited, and hadn’t noticed Cissy making her way into the common room. It took him a moment to register her dress – or lack thereof, as he spotted excessive amounts of exposed skin on her chest. His breath hitched in his throat and he had to grip his own sleeve as he stared, then forced himself to look up at her face. Of course Cissy would wear a dress like this; she looked stunning, yes, but it was difficult for Lucius to not stare, and all he wanted to do was take her aside and kiss her and touch and skip the bloody Yule Ball – but they couldn’t do that. He was sure she was looking forward to it. He had no doubt others – boys especially – would also be staring at Narcissa, but with a swell of pride he knew that she was his. They could stare all they wanted, but Lucius Malfoy was the one who would be dancing with her, and Lucius Malfoy was the one who had won her over. “You’re breathtaking, Narcissa,” he said lowly, taking her hand and kissing the back of her palm. Then he extended his arm to her, and once she had linked hers through, they started off together for the Great Hall. It was decorated rather simply, in Lucius’s opinion, as he recalled how lavish and extravagant the Malfoy manor became whenever his parents hosted Christmas functions for the Ministry and other purebloods. His stomach twisted unpleasantly as he realised they would not be hosting one this year, and the mood at the Malfoy manor would be rather sombre this Christmas. But… he would try hard not to think of that tonight. Tonight was about Narcissa. He only half-listened to Dumbledore’s speech, but moved into action when the music began to play. He turned to Narcissa and held out his hand for her to take. He didn’t say a word – asking if he may have this dance seemed rather childish and like something out of a horrible romance novel, in his opinion – but his eyebrows raised, and a small corner of his mouth rose in a half-smile. Tonight, he and Cissy were going to dance, and they were going to forget everything else.

[dani]

for i can't help
falling in love with you

The last couple of months had been a blur.

A happy, crazy, silly, relaxed blur, but a mix of colors and sounds and feelings. Danielle Olivier tried to run past all the little things, all the big things, and everything in between while she prepared for the biggest night of her life. Well, her life so far. Every brush of her make-up brush made a butterfly effect in her stomach. Every curl of her hair made her heart swell with excitement. She was excited for tonight, and most importantly, she was happy. Really happy. And it showed. Danielle was used to being high strung, bossy, and occasionally controlling, and she'd always kind of accepted that it was always how she was going to be. But, these last couple of months with Aidan; she was like a different person. It made her feel like maybe it was possible to be relaxed and sometimes silly. He was teaching her a lot of things; things that made her believe that maybe Aidan wasn't just some guy who was going to help her get over Pierre and Sammy. That wasn't the reason she had gotten together with Aidan; it was mostly because he kissed like a God and he made her feel actually loved, and not just wanted. There were other reasons, of course, but Danielle was now completely able to say that she harbored no feelings for anyone but her boyfriend, and for Danielle Olivier, that was kind of a big deal. She wasn't a whore; it wasn't like that. But she'd always had conflicting issues with having romantic thoughts about a guy other than the one she was dating. But now, she could look at herself in the mirror and not feel worthless. She still felt terrible about what she did to Sammy; the way she broke up with him and left him hanging. It was awful what she did, and she'd probably never forgive herself. But Aidan helped her forget. She padded barefoot over to her bed and unzipped the eggshell garment bag all the way down to the bottom. She stared at her Yule Ball dress with a triumphant smile; she'd designed it herself, and was very pleased with it. She hoped Aidan would like it too. Sweet Merlin, was that all she ever thought about anymore? Aidan, Aidan, Aidan. It was getting a little ridiculous, actually. But she couldn't help it. And, more importantly, she didn't want to.

As she slipped the silky fabric over her head and zipped it slowly up her back, she ran through her checklist in her head, making sure she remembered everything. Aidan was meeting her in the Entrance Hall, and she wanted to be on time, also making sure she didn't forget anything. Mascara, eye shadow, nails done. Check, check, check. Dress, hair, clutch with the essentials. Check. She was all packed and ready to depart for home tomorrow; more than excited to get home and spend some time with her family. She was also going to see Aidan sometime over the winter break, and she was more than excited to meet his father. She'd already met Fiona and become fast friends with the sweet girl; she'd often gone to her for fashion advice and such. She did feel a little bad though. It was probably a little difficult for Fiona though, being that she was such good friends with Alessa, though---Dani stopped the thought cold, refusing to think about that. But as she slipped into her heels, she couldn't help but re-direct her thoughts to her boyfriend's ex. It was a sticky situation, and as much as Dani liked Aidan, she felt absolutely terrible for Alessa, she really did. It wasn't really fair for her, and she got the feeling that Alessa didn't like her much anymore, and she just didn't like that. The thought of a former friend not wanting anything to do with her anymore made her sad. It was a hard price to pay, but Aidan was more than worth it. Sometimes, when Dani was lying awake at night, nothing but the sound of the wind and her roommates deep breathing to keep her company, she thought about how truly lucky she was to have someone like him. It made her really think about how unfortunate some girls were; to not have what she had with Aidan. She wasn't stupid enough to think she was in love with him; they'd only been together a little while, but she knew she was falling for him, hard and fast. It was a scary thought, giving her whole heart and soul, and even body to another person, to trust him so completely with everything she held dear. But if she knew Aidan like she thought she did, she knew she was doing the right thing.


The finished product was satisfactory. Slipping her wand into a secret compartment in her dress, Dani grabbed her clutch off of her bed and swept out of the room with grace, descending the stairs into the common room with a sense of purpose, her head held high. Tonight was her night; her last Yule Ball. She took some deep breaths and emerged into the corridor, the Entrance Hall her destination. Aidan had agreed to meet her there before making their actual entrance into the Great Hall, and Dani was more than excited to see him. They hadn't told each other what they were wearing, so she was looking forward to seeing him. She rounded the final corner to the Hall, and as she made it to the top of the stairs, she was instantly looking for him. The entire Hall was crowded with people, couples meeting up, teachers ushering students into the Great Hall, but she had eyes for no one but Aidan. When she finally saw him, her face lit up; a smile to stop hearts; she began her descent. One hand on the marble railing, the other at her side, Dani couldn't keep the smile off of her face while she came closer to him. He was just so handsome, and all hers. The thought of his glorious mind and body and soul and, sweet Merlin, his lips, all belonging to her and no one else, was strangely enchanting and intimate. She made it to the bottom, and without a seconds hesitation, went directly into his arms, finally able to wrap her arms around his neck without having to stand on tiptoes; her heels were so tall. She leaned her head back and kissed him, a slow, building kiss, filled with passion. Whatever she felt for Aidan Donnelly was serious, and real, and it was obvious whenever they touched. She finally had to pull away; people were probably staring. She smiled the biggest smile she could manage, her arms still around his neck; she pressed her forehead to his, taking in his smell and everything else she'd managed to like about him in so little time. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. With her eyes still closed and her arms still wrapped tight around him, she whispered,

"I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be, than right here, with you."

And when she spoke those words, she knew they were true.

Tonight was their night.

[Gabriella Rivera]

The annual Yule ball at Hogwarts was always a fabulous event. Gabby had only gone once before in her whole school life, and last time it had been with Gideon, and she remembered it had been absolutely thrilling to be able to go to a proper ball, in a proper dress, with a...well, all right, not so much a proper date since she and Gideon had been going just as friends and not an actual couple, but it had still been equally thrilling. Besides, plenty of people went to the ball just as friends. It was probably better to go that way, rather than go with someone whom you'd only just met, because then you'd at least have a lot to talk about and there wouldn't be awkward silences. Although it had been a little difficult to dance with Gideon since, even in her heels, she was over a head shorter than him and it was a wonder she survived with all her toes, but it had still been a blast. The people had looked gorgeous, the music had been brilliant, the food had been...well, meager, but it had at least tasted good, and the dancing around the floor had been so much fun, despite the occasional trodding of her foot when Gideon lost focus of where he was putting his feet - she hadn't blamed him, honestly, because, personally, she wouldn't know what to do with feet that big, either, and would have probably stepped all over her own toes if she'd had them! Anyhow, she was looking forward to going to this year's Yule ball even more. Although, it was not because she was going with an actual date, instead she was going with Gideon's brother, Fabian Prewett (maybe next year she'd actually be going with a boyfriend, but that was probably just her optimism talking), but that wasn't what made it more exciting, to be honest. Oh, sure, she was absolutely thrilled to be going with Fabian, and knew full-well that she was going to have a fantastic time while she was with him, and that he'd be a super awesome date (at least she hoped so - maybe he wouldn't step on her feet as much as Gideon did), but it was also the fact that she just felt pretty. It was a rare occurrence, really, that Gabby actually felt genuinely pretty. But tonight she felt wonderful. Her dress - a generous gift from Emmeline, who had immediately offered one of the ones she'd never worn when she'd heard that Gabby didn't have one - was quite possibly the most beautiful and elegant thing Gabby had ever worn. She felt like Cinderella, and Emmeline was her fairy godmother, prettying her up for the ball. Now, Fabian might not be her Prince Charming, exactly, but he was still as close as anything. The dress was so lovely, in fact, that Gabby had almost felt unworthy of wearing it when she'd first put it on, but it was difficult to think too negatively when your best friend was exclaiming over how lovely you look, and how smashing you would look at the ball. Gabriella was by no means vain, but every girl was allowed to feel pretty. She might not be the belle of the ball by a long shot, but she would still hold her own, hopefully, especially since Emmeline and Vanessa had helped with her hair and make-up. She'd warned them not to do anything too excessive, and they had complied - her hair had been made into gentle curls and most of it was put up, with thick strands falling from either side of her face. Since she didn't own any jewelery, she didn't put any on, but she hoped that the dress being so fancy would detract from that.

As soon as the last minute touch ups were done, Gabriella pulled her trusty - although, by now, extremely frayed - wrist band off her wrist and placed it on her bed side table. There was no need for it tonight, she told herself. Not tonight of all nights, because tonight there would be no drama and no hurtful words and nothing that would cause her anxiety or stress, so she wouldn't need to rely on it. Her wrist felt oddly bare without it, though, and she found herself unconsciously rubbing the skin, but she didn't put it back on. Instead, she turned to walk out of the dormitory with Emmeline. In the common room, they met up with Luke, who had been waiting for her friend, and she greeted him and gave him a quick hug, telling him how lovely he looked and then she told Emmeline she'd go ahead first, since she was meeting Fabian at the Entrance Hall. Her stomach clenched in anticipation as she made her way down the stairs, holding up her dress and making sure to look where she was placing her feet. She wasn't used to wearing high heels quite so pointy, and she was paranoid that she'd end up putting her weight on them wrong or something and they'd end up snapping. She'd read about it happening tons of time, and although it didn't hurt she didn't want to walk all lopsided the whole night and, really, it would be a damper on the night itself. Not to mention she'd end up being even shorter than Fabian, and that simply would not do! She didn't need more reason for him to call her a midget! In fact, she was almost positive that he'd make fun of her height anyway because it was what he always did every time he saw her or spoke with her; somehow he managed to bring up how tiny she was. Like it was her fault she was this small! Besides, she'd met one or two (okay, maybe just one) girls who were actually older than her and exactly her height! Okay, so it really had been one girl, and her name was Priscilla Pryce and they weren't exactly friends, but it wasn't so unusual for someone to be this height. And was it her fault that he was a giant, too? She really ought to start hanging out with more short people, or people who were shorter than her, because all of her male friends were at least a foot taller than her (except maybe Stefan, who was perhaps a little under a foot taller than her), but, unfortunately that meant she'd have to start hanging out with first and second years, and as adorable as they might be, she didn't really think they had much in common (and yes, that did mean that she had tried to befriend them; but one of them had mistaken her for a slightly taller second year and she'd been so offended she decided to drop the idea of spending time with them).

Thankfully, she managed to make it to the Entrance Hall without any neck-breaking accidents, although she did almost step into a trick step at some point, because she frequently forgot where they were, even after five years of walking these halls. Several students were standing in the Entrance Hall, waiting for their dates - whether they were from other houses, or had graduated already - and Gabby joined them, standing a little further away from most of them. Despite everything, she was still shy little Gabriella. After fiddling a bit with the ruffles on the side of her dress, she began to peer around, looking for Fabian's familiar head - since he was so tall, he tended to tower over everyone. Surprisingly, he found her first (surprising because she was so tiny and thus easily blended into the crowd) and she beamed as he approached, reaching to hug him, but then he teased her about not recognising her. After their usual, familiar banter (he gave up after she began to genuinely believe that he couldn't recognise her and had begun to get a little hurt that make-up would make such a difference; was she not pretty enough before?), Gabby took his proffered arm and they made their way into the Great Hall. As soon as they did, Gabriella began fawning over the wonderful decorations, pointing out the trees and the hangings, several "oh my gosh"es leaving her lips at once. It wasn't long before she spotted Stefan and Lyle, and Fabian offered to go get them some beverages while she went over to greet them. Nodding, she watched him leave and then hastily made her way over to the two boys, lifting the edge of her dress slightly so that the people around her wouldn't accidentally step on it (it would honestly ruin her night if she accidentally ripped it). "Stefan! Lyle!" she squealed, flinging her arms first around her best friend, and then around her best friend's boyfriend, giving them both a healthy squeeze. She pulled away rather quickly so that she could beam at them both; honestly, the two of them together warmed her heart, and she couldn't understand why people like Danny Mulciber would hate their love so much when it was so beautiful and they were so adorable and she barely managed to hold in another squeal, not wanting to draw too much attention to them. "You two look wonderful! And you match! In red,"

[/color] She could have seriously died and gone to adorable-couples heaven right now, they were just so cute! "The red is Lyle's doing, I'm sure,"[/color] she teased lightly, nudging her best friend. She was barely giving them enough time to talk, really, the excitement causing her to have some form of word vomit. "Doesn't the Great Hall look lovely? I can hardly recognise it! The decorations are beautiful, aren't they?"[/color] She beamed at them both, her gaze expectant. Yes, Gabby was excited for the Yule Ball very much indeed.


[/blockquote][/color]

[gilderoy]

what was i just about
to discover

What in the name of all things holy and just was he thinking?


Well, that was the problem. Gilderoy Lockhart didn't exactly think. It was surprising he'd even made it to his final year at Hogwarts. He rarely thought when he took exams. He almost never actually thought about what he was going to say before he said it. And he certainly was not thinking when he asked Amelia Bones to accompany him to the Yule Ball. It wasn't that he didn't like Mia; on the contrary, he adored her, probably more than he realized. But things were---complicated. It was just like in the movies; a complicated web of emotions and love triangles. The main issue, of course, all went back to Gill's ridiculous feelings for Bridget Taylor.

At just the thought of her name in his head, a swarm of memories and images of his best friend began swirling into his mind; cutting off all senses, making him forget where he was or what he was doing. But before he could lost himself in the happy thoughts of her, he snapped himself out of his reverie, focusing more intently on making his hair do what it was supposed to be doing. The mirror was cracked in the corner, and Gill couldn't help but stare at the imperfection on the reflective surface, letting himself think about her again; how she smiled, the way she laughed---No! Splashing some cold water on his face from the basin, Gill forced himself to focus. It wouldn't do to be like this when he saw Mia tonight. Oh, Merlin, this was going to be difficult. Why did girls have to be so bloody confusing? No, wait, that wasn't fair. It really wasn't either of their faults. Gill was just stupid, and he knew it. See, Gill and Bridget had been friends almost the same amount of time as him and Mia had been. And slowly, through the years, he became close to both of them, and his feelings for Bridget developed farther than he'd imagined when he'd first met her. There was a short period of time when Gill had actually made the conscious decision to date Mia; at first it had started out as a way to repress his feelings for Bridget, but it ended up being more than that. In his quest to squash his unrequited love for his best friend, he actually developed a love for Mia, too. It was very different, and perhaps not as strong, but it was substantial, and it was real, that much he knew to be true. But Gill couldn't hurt Mia like that. He knew that Bridget had his heart, and trying to give it to someone else was pointless. So, he'd ended things with Mia, but they'd stayed friends, and Gill was more than happy for that. And then, he decided to be an idiot, and tell Bridget how he felt about her before they parted ways at the end of the previous term.

Gill shook his head at his own stupidity as he continued to stare at himself in the mirror. He honestly could not believe that he had told Bridget how he felt last year. It was so senseless to just blurt out "I love you" at the bloody train station before he didn't see her for three months. I mean, how thick could he get? Gill had always known that nothing could come of the two of them. It just wasn't like that for Bridget, and he'd known that, but it didn't stop Gill from being completely crushed and spiraling into a minor depression when she had politely rejected him.

Ugh, just thinking about it made him want to rip out his newly styled hair! Oh, but wait, it was actually possible, Gill got even dumber. During the summer, he'd called on Mia; asked her to come to his little London flat to keep him company; to comfort him; to hold him, and he ended up sleeping with her! Just falling asleep with her, of course; both of them were quite careful with each other in the physical aspect, even when they'd dated. And after Mia had left from her visit, Gill had felt terrible for leading her on, for making her think that he wanted more from her, because truthfully, he couldn't really imagine himself with anyone but Bridget, even though he knew it would never happen. So, he was stuck; his love for one girl never to be reciprocated, his feelings for another to never develop. He didn't want to hurt Mia; he didn't want to betray Bridget. It was all a complicated, confusing mess. And then, like the idiot he was, he decided to lose contact with Mia for the majority of the school year. True, he was busy, but he'd always made time for her in the past, and now he was more than afraid to spend time with her. Not because he didn't like her; but because he didn't want to lead her on! But he'd desperately missed her, and when she'd written him that note and said no one had asked her to the Ball, and she was looking so pretty and he just couldn't help himself, he'd always had a soft spot for her, she was his Mia, and---

Gill lashed out and kicked the edge of his bed, sinking down on the mattress and letting his head fall into his hands. He rubbed his eyes roughly, trying to force back the emotion that was threatening to seep through. He was going to have to keep it together tonight. Mia deserved to have a night of fun with her friend, her good friend, her ex-boyfriend that still cared about her and wanted her to be happy. And he would do just that. Gill stood up and threw his shoulders back. He'd changed his outfit last minute, deciding that his suit was more formal than the other set he'd bought for the occasion. It probably would look better with Mia's dress anyway; which he hadn't seen yet. Gill squared his shoulders and marched out of the dorm, headed straight for the Entrance Hall where he said he'd meet Mia; he wanted her to be able to make a proper entrance; like the princess he knew she deserved to be treated like. Gill made it to the Hall quickly, the corsage he'd gotten her in his hand. He didn't want her to have to carry around flowers, so the typical Muggle custom seemed like the way to go. He looked down once to check his shoes for scuff marks, and when he looked up again, she was coming down the stairs. And BAM, just like that, Gill was right back to their first date, their first kiss, the time they fell asleep holding hands in his apartment last summer. She was absolutely breathtaking; a healthy halo of light all around her like a shield. He inhaled deeply, realizing that he'd been holding his breath, and when she reached him, he took her into his arms, and she fit there perfectly, and it was like no time had been lost at all. He remembered why he'd liked her, why he did what he did, why he'd dated her, why he depended on her; why he needed her. It was all there, in his arms, his hands resting gently on her hips. He knew, in that moment, that no matter how stupid he was, Amelia Bones would always accept him for that, and he knew that even if he didn't deserve her, he was going to do everything he could to make her happy, starting with tonight. He knew he loved her; he believed in loving more than one person, and if it took years to feel for her the way he did for Bridget, he'd do it. She was worth the effort. "You're stunning," he said softly in her ear. Her scent was absolutely intoxicating. He brushed his lips on her forehead, light as a feather, worried that if he did anything else, he might lose his concentration. He slipped the corsage on her wrist, his face still inches from hers, his eyes on her the whole time. He couldn't stop looking at her. She was just so beautiful. He smiled, a genuine smile, his previous fears forgotten. Tonight would be all right; because she was Mia and he was Gill, and no matter how messed up their past was, their future had promise, and he was willing to work on it. He held his arm out for her and lead her into the Entrance Hall, ready to face the unknown, knowing he'd be all right, as long as she was by his side.




If Gilderoy Lockhart believed in anything, it was fairytales. And here, tonight, with her?



That was exactly what it was.

[avery]

Old friend
Why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back
Or hide from the light

The brass clock on Avery’s nightstand had just clicked past eleven forty five and he was still sitting on his bed. He was going. Of course he was going. Avery hated missing out on most things, and something this large would be quite ridiculous to skip out on. This wasn’t class. This was important. Avery played with the metal around his wristwatch as he glanced towards the doorway to his empty dormitory. A couple of first years had zoomed past noisily, obviously making enough of an uproar as they could since they weren’t allowed to the dance. Avery was the only one left of his classmates left in the dormitory. Avery wanted to take his time. He had to time it out right. First of all, he didn’t have a date to impress so he didn’t have to act like he loved dancing or like he wanted to get her another glass of punch. He would have done it all willingly, but tonight he didn’t have to worry about impressing anyone. So there he sat, on the edge of his bed waiting for the clock to strike twelve so he could venture into the mass of people waiting for him. Going to early would mean that he would have to sit at a table awkwardly for however long it took for someone to come up to him sheepishly and ask him for a dance he would later regret because every damned female in this bloody school took the tiniest form of politeness as a ticket into his pants. And then when he had to regrettably inform them that he was not in fact, interested in anyone being in his pants but himself, he was the ‘bad guy’ for leading them on. It always happened that way. No, if he rode it out in his room long enough the stragglers would leave the Great Hall and most everyone would be tuckered out from the amount of dancing. He would then sneak in, act like he’d been there all night long, dance with someone deserving, and then slip back out and back to bed. Big loud parties never got Avery in the right mood. He enjoyed more intimate hangouts.

Which was why he was slightly depressed he had no one to share his weed with. It was his fault for wanting to stay behind until the crack of midnight to actually make an appearance so he hadn’t asked anyone if they wanted to light up, but now that Avery had actually sat there for a couple of hours he sort of regretted doing it alone. He knew once the smoke hit his lungs and settled for a minute or two he’d feel completely different so he didn’t let his troubles bother him too much. Avery took the tip of his wand and ignited it so a small flame danced around. He brought the tip to the end of the joint and held it there for a second to get the paper going before he brought it to his lip. Blowing the tip of his wand out, he brought the joint to his lips and sucked. He liked smoking. Smoking made him more personable. It didn’t help with his paranoid personality, but he got over that quick enough by not giving a shit about anyone else. He was a lot more personable and let loose when he smoked. He didn’t worry about being stupid in front of people. A couple of hits and he was perfectly fine. Avery blew out a cloud of smoke and glanced through it at the door to make sure no one was coming. He had learned a few spells from fifth year Ravenclaw he had been smoking with last year that got rid of smoke and a dealt with the stench. As soon as the joint was at an inch and he was pinching it to hold on, he pulled out his wand and waved it through the air twice. The smoke immediately vanished and then a light lemon smell filled his four-poster area. He took a deep breath and enjoyed it before getting up and looking into his mirror beside his table.

He was wearing a tan-ish gold suit with a yellow tie he refused to tighten that he stuck roughly underneath his vest. He rolled his dress pants up past his ankles just to piss the people who used to mock him for being so tall off. He showed off his brown penny loafers. Pulling at his vest one last time, he smiled through his hazy eyes and left the common room with a couple minutes to spare until midnight. It only took Avery a few moments down the hallway before he heard the music. What was that band? The Whozards? He didn’t even know. All he knew was that the music was bumping so loudly one of the portraits he passed was even rumbling against the stone. Avery laughed as the disgruntled wizard inside shouted in protest for someone to help him. Not another corner did he turn and the music nearly knocked him off his feet. He was in the great hall surrounded by a bunch of sobbing singles or single minglers. They all stared at him and he glanced around at them awkwardly before continuing on into the Great Hall. He was right as soon as he had entered. Only the couples were standing around slow dancing and all the stragglers had gotten too tired to dance. He smiled through his cloudy eyes and enjoyed the band for a moment before making his way over to the snack table. From far away it had looked slightly empty but it was probably the fairy lights around him because as soon as he had reached it the table was completely stocked full with snacks. He grabbed at a pumpkin pasty and some apple juice. Food was his downfall when he was high, and Avery couldn’t believe he had already found himself pigging out.

Tori Macmillan had pulled on his shoulder halfway through a bite of cake. She gave him a silly wiggle with her eyebrow, inclining a dance. Before he knew it, the band had drifted into another upbeat song and he was on his feet being pulled by Tori onto the dance floor. He liked Tori. Tori was cute. Tori was also short for Victoria. Victoria was his mother’s name. This thought automatically brought his high down. He grimaced as Tori pulled at his sides and danced around him foolishly. They were just friends at this point. He forced a laugh that actually turned out real when she started to slip and fall. Avery pulled her up and she barely was at his chest. He held up her chin, ”How much have you drank tonight, Miss Tori?” He said through a laugh and grabbed her hand. He swayed his hips to the music with her for another moment before he made the call. Avery pulled Tori off the dance floor and thanked her for the dance, kissing her hand. He glanced down at his watch. It had already been an hour and he was incredibly bored. This was the perfect time to slip away, when everyone wasn’t looking. He backed out of the Great Hall and played with his tie as he gave the band one last glance. Just as he was going to make way for his common room, Avery backed into someone.

[justin]

IT'S TIME TO MAKE OUR MOVE.
I'M SHAKING OFF THE RUST.

Since he was social in California and social at Salem Academy, there was really nothing else to be done but suck it up and be social at Hogwarts. Part of this obligation met attending the big extravaganza of the year, “The Yule Ball.” If you want to know the truth, Justin first thought of going when Sara gave him the biting remark that he should “go wild and have fun with his life, go and out and do lots of things with lots of people, don’t worry about Me.” Never mind that he had already offered to come back to California and help, then offered to move her to England, and numerous other things he could think of to satisfy a very unsatisfied kind of person. Because he had been so frustrated that she was behaving in such a way he thought to go to Yule Ball because of her sarcastic commentary. He did it in spite of her but not to spite her. Justin didn’t rub it in her face or do anything else immature, he simply thought about who to ask and asked her. He’d clearly been in the Sara zone when he thought to ask Rita Skeeter, who had had a striking comparison in personality to Sara. Rita was different though and he knew this, and listing off their differences was the only way he’d completely convinced himself to ask her in the first place. When Justin first met Rita he’d bemused over the various ways she could screw with Noah’s life. He’d found her annoying, to be quite honest. Rita is so wrapped up in popularity which might be the very last thing that Justin cares about. Although on the other hand, she is very clever and devious and he can appreciate that. Justin also didn’t worry about offending her when he showed a flash of his cruel nature, so as far as not having to pretend it was really very nice. The more he thought about it the more Justin actually wanted to go with Rita to the dance. She really didn’t care what he did or didn’t think of Noah, and Skeeter is always a good person to have on your side. He would have been surprised that Rita didn’t have a date yet, if he hadn’t already asked her so far in advance. I wouldn’t say he was nervous, he’d probably kill me for that, but he was a little….off today. Off in the sense that Justin had said very little to Rita about anything other than her broken down love life when she was drunk, or information about Noah that he thought she would die if she couldn’t share it. It seemed when they were together they were always planning or scheming over something, and he almost felt as if he should bring a plot along with him when he picked up Rita. Without it, he felt a bit empty-handed.

Eh, whatever. The moment of almost-awkwardness had already passed as he put on his tux. Although he could and did look good in fancy clothes, Justin didn’t have much of a taste for them. He wasn’t a clothes kind of guy. He found something he could wear without a tie trying to strangle him, and had it sent over to him from his house in Cali. While adjusting the collar in the mirror, he shook his head slowly. Every time he passed a mirror he expected to see the same gawky, awkward kid of yesterday. He wasn’t sure how he had grown into himself, but he wasn’t yet used to it. He was clean-shaven, not being a fan of the beards, that and growing a beard took an exuberant amount of effort and days. Some guys were hairy, some guys were not. Rita was definitely going to notice the black eye, if she somehow hadn’t already. It was a nice sized welt around his eye that had only gone down a little over the past week. It was probably destined to last a month, as that was the general recovery time for a black eye. His is quite the shiner though…of course he, who sees destined for some kind of epic warrior showdown, got his black eye from a raging bludger during practice. Of course Justin’s story would be as dull as that. Which was fine really, as every story got a little sprucing up from the original layout. It didn’t prevent him from seeing at all, and he could continue to play the game while it was healing. It wasn’t altogether attractive for pictures but then, he was used to breaking the camera. Justin smirked at his own thought. He walked out of his room and down the stairs to the common room where he would wait for Rita. It was almost too easy to pick up someone in your own house.

It was times at these, when it was too late to back out, that you remembered the most important fact – Justin couldn’t dance. He could shuffle and kind of sway back and forth but Justin’s dancing skill as far as the correct footwork and how to position the girl’s hand was none. It was why he didn’t dance at Rita’s party until she made him, and since they were busy discussing the bet she had made with Isadora no real dancing had truly gone on. That’s fine. There was an eighty-seven percent chance that more than half of the guys at the dance wouldn’t know how to either. Yes, he did make up that entirely random statistic. You can do that with statistics, and people will just believe you no matter how ridiculous. The world is so gullible it makes anyone with the smallest amount of wit and guile look clever beyond humanly possible. Justin put his hands in his pockets and stood over by one of the sofas, amongst all the other students waiting and looking the staircases for their dates to arrive. Two boys on the sofa were playing a game of poker, and Justin leaned over to see that the player just in front of him was bluffing completely. He shook his head and gave a little tsk tsk, catching both of their attentions but saying nothing more. It was enough to create anger in the player with the terrible cards and he scowled at Justin before folding. If you’re going to bluff, do it in such a way that no one will know. If that means angling your cards then that’s what you should do. Justin glanced down to just now notice that his socks were mismatched. He used his foot to tug down on his pant leg, satisfied. There, none the wiser.

TAG;; Rita
STATUS;; Complete
NOTES;;My intros are always boring my dear sorry about that
LYRICS;; "Stop and Stare" One Republic

[bridget]

love came down at christmas

Bridget had never been particularly girly. She wore what she was comfortable in, whether it was in style or not. She wore make-up, but no where near the amount all those painted-up Slytherins did - and to be honest, lately she'd been neglecting her make-up bag because she was too lazy and rushed in the morning to do it. She couldn't even remember the last time she wore high heels, or did her nails - it would be perfectly plausible to assume Bridget simply was not that kind of girl because she hated it. On the contrary, however, Bridget found herself thoroughly enjoying herself as she sat at her desk, painting a clear coat of polish over the deep maroon shade she'd applied hours before. On the floor sat the turntable, with Bing Crosby's Merry Christmas album playing - it was just one of the many vinyls she had inherited from her father. It sounded terribly silly, but lately she'd been wondering whether or not her dear old dad would have liked Simon, how he would have dealt with the knowledge that there was some boy out there who liked his daughter, and she liked him back - what would he say? She was sure her mum would be excited. She just had a feeling. Bridget wished they were alive, of course, but it was always a bit harder during the holiday season. That was to be expected, naturally, but it didn't make it much easier. She found herself thinking about them a bit more; they would sneak into her mental wanderings, remain for a while and then be gone. She just wished she'd been able to experience them first hand. She would never not appreciate the stories her family had told her of them, but, gosh, they were her parents, and they were gone. She tried not to think about it too much because she didn't want to get mopey, or seem mopey to others, but she couldn't help wondering whether or not her mom was a good cook, and if her dad would have tried to teach her how to play the drums, or how she would have been as an older sister... her life was what it was, though, and there was nothing she could do to bring her parents back.

Once her nails were dry, it was just a matter of going down a mental checklist she'd made. Her hair wasn't too difficult, as it was so short, but she dryed it and combed her bangs down. Make-up would probably be the trickiest. She didn't want to overwhelm her face, but she wanted to look nice as well. The finished product was very natural. Foundation, thick black eyeliner, mascara, with pearly and pinkish eye shadow. She applied a similar pink shade to the apples of her cheeks, which was a daring move as she had never used blush before, but it accented her face nicely, none the less. She glanced at the clock - Merlin, only fifteen minutes left until she had to meet Simon. Shit. A bit frazzled, she jumped up off the chair and walked over to her bed. On it lay her dress, shoes, clutch and a little box. She picked up the box and walked back over to the desk. She sat down, took a deep breath and opened it. Inside were a ring and a pair of earrings. Once, her mother wore them, the very same night, many years before. She slid the ring onto her finger, and put in the earrings - Merlin, they were heavy. Terribly uncomfortable. She pierced her ears years before, when she was just a girl, and never went a day without wearing earrings - but then she got a terrible infection, and was turned off from them ever since. She wore them occasionally in past years, only to fancy events, and they never failed to be the first thing she took off at the end of the night. Bridget smirked at herself in the mirror, amused at the sight of herself, in pajamas (she hadn't changed out of them all afternoon), looking much too elegant for her outfit. That would change in just a few moments, though, wouldn't it? She put the lid back on the box, stood up, and returned to her bed; she slid the box into her clutch, just in case she wanted to take the earrings out earlier. She stared down at her gown and undressed, hoping to Merlin she still liked it. She pulled it on over her head, slipped her bra off from under it, and then turned to Amelia, who was focusing on her make-up. "Zip me up?" She asked, and Amelia obliged. Sitting down on her bed, she put on her heels, fighting back any worries she had about tripping in them. She would be fine. She was plenty graceful. She just... wasn't used to walking in heels, was all. Especially not heels that big. She still wouldn't be as tall as Simon... not that she wanted to be as tall as Simon. She rather enjoyed the idea of being able to slow dance and put her head on his chest. She stood up, and approached the mirror.

What she saw in it was almost shocking. She'd never seen herself look so pretty, in all her life. She felt a slightly uncomfortable, wearing such a nice dress - it was a very daring move for her, to wear something so... well, unconventional, but she loved the dress. It was black, and was adorned with little black flowers and all sorts of little trinkets - tiny silver pairs of scissors, or forks, and knives, and knuts and bolts, and she'd even found a tiny piano sewn on. It was quite unlike anything she'd seen, but she was pleased with it, none the less. It was a bit more costly than she'd have liked, but her grandparents offered to pay for it, regardless. She'd never worn anything strapless before, so she was worried it might slip around, but there was a truly magical (except not really) thing called boob tape, which was supposed to help. She tugged her dress around gently, so as to straighten it on her body, and then she flattened it out, turned around at all different angles, just to be sure everything was in order. And it was. Pleased with herself, she grabbed the clutch up off her bed and bade her roommate farewell. "Time for me to meet Simon, Amelia," she said, sending her best friend a smile. "I've got to go. Oh, you look lovely." She let out a happy sigh, almost getting distracted because she wanted to go over and get a better look at Amelia. "I'll see you down at the dance, though!" She opened her dormitory door and started down the stairs toward the common room. She held tightly on to the railing, praying her ankles wouldn't fail her in these heels. Luckily, they weren't terribly uncomfortable - then again, she'd only been in them for a few minutes, and she would certainly be telling a different story in a few hours after plenty of dancing. Oh, bollocks! She'd forgotten to put on her lip gloss, she realized, half-way down the staircase. Ah, well. She could do that right now. She opened up her clutch and pulled the tube out, quickly applying it and rubbing her lips together. There. Now everything was perfect. She continued walking down the stairs, and there she saw him, standing there, looking dapper as ever.

Oh, Merlin, she could have melted. Finally on solid ground (although the weakness in her knees would beg to differ), she walked over to Simon, a little embarrassed smile on her face. "You look so handsome," she said, greeting him with a hug and a little kiss on the cheek. ...Was that too much? Bah, whatever. Whatever! It didn't matter now, she'd already done it. They made their way down to the Great Hall together, and it looked absolutely lovely. She saw a lot of her friends and beamed at them, eyes wide in wonder at all the beautiful dresses and suits. Dumbledore made his announcement, and then welcomed The Whozards - Bridget, along with quite a few other students, yet out a tiny scream of excitement. She loved The Whozards! She had all of their albums! And they were here, playing! "Oh my God!" she yelped to Simon, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet. "Did you know they were coming?! I can't believe this - oh my God!" She was absolutely ecstatic. Tonight was going to be perfect. The Whozards were playing, the food looked great, she had all her friends there, she was with Simon - there was absolutely nothing about this night that could possibly go wrong. She just didn't see how it was possible. "D'you wanna dance?" she looked up to him and asked, a hopeful grin on her face.

[Stefan Capper]

Stefan had never both anticipated and dreaded a date as tremendously as this before in his life. Never had a spot on his calendar been so huge to him, so impending, so absolutely looming over his head as it got nearer and nearer to today, and suddenly, it was here. December 24th, the date of the Yule Ball. It was Christmas Eve, a night which he would have usually spent with his family, sitting around the fireplace, trading presents. He’d never stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays before, even if last year he’d technically been allowed to participate in the ball, as a fourth year, he’d chosen not to attend, as neither was Imogen, and he wasn’t exactly interested in going with anybody else. It had been in the middle of his crush on Luke Neeson—not that he ever would have considered going with him—and all of his girl friends already had dates, too. It had been a quiet, normal Christmas. This year was different, though. This year was so, completely, upside-down different that he was quietly going crazy with it. This year, he was going. This year, he actually had a date. This year, he had a boyfriend. Stefan hadn’t intended on going to the ball this year, either, until he realized that all of his friends would be, and it would have been a silly idea to miss an event as magnificent as this was, at school. And even though he’d been with Lyle for eighteen days now, he wasn’t considering going with him to this ball, either. Boys didn’t go with other boys to parties. Especially not as their dates, much less their boyfriends. It was unheard of, he was sure. It just didn’t happen. Maybe he was comfortable with being gay now that he had Lyle in his life, maybe. Maybe he was comfortable with kissing a boy and holding hands with a boy and dancing with a boy. But that didn’t mean he was okay with other people knowing this. He wasn’t okay with being publicly gay. He didn’t know what people would think of him, what people might say, what people might do. It scared him. It scared him that he wasn’t sure, that he couldn’t be sure of something like this—so he’d asked Imogen to go to the ball with him instead. Of course, he hadn’t exactly been expecting her to say no...nor to end up telling her everything, anyway. Imogen had known, apparently, that he was gay. Said he’d been pretty obvious about it or something. And she was...okay with it. She was happy for them. For him and Lyle; that they were together, now. It had been a nightmare, going through that day, headache after headache trying to figure out what he wanted to do and what was right, and what was best. Somehow, he’d ended up convincing himself to go with Lyle in the end. Talking to Imogen had been nothing short of eye-opening, as it generally tended to be. There was a reason she was his best friend. It wasn’t something that could be taken lightly; he knew that. But she’d convinced him that it maybe was okay. That showing people he was in love with another boy wasn’t the worst thing he could do—that he did want to do this. That he wanted to be with Lyle like this, amongst other people, and have everybody know, and think it’s okay. That it’s okay to love a boy. Imogen had been right, he knew—it was still scary. He knew that her words made sense; that he shouldn’t care about what people think, and that his friends were going to be happy for him, for them; and anybody who wasn’t, he shouldn’t care about. It was true, he knew. He just didn’t know how he was supposed to handle it.

Asking Lyle to the ball had been oddly...relaxing. Like lifting a huge weight off his chest. Stefan wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who went around asking people out, boys or girls, at all—even with Lyle, it was usually the older boy that initiated things between them. Most of the time. It had been nerve-wrecking to say the least; not because he’d been afraid Lyle would say no. No, Stefan had been almost sure that Lyle would be happy about this; that he’d want people to know they’re together. Lyle had been gay all his life. People knew that he was like that, and they accepted it. (He didn’t want to think about what had happened when somebody hadn’t.) No, it had been nerve-wrecking because of what it meant. It wasn’t just the thrill of dancing with his boyfriend at a dance, or even of dressing up and having their picture taken and talking and laughing with friends, like it was for his friends. For them, it was becoming vulnerable to everybody there. It was showing that they were two boys, who were in love, and going to attend a ball together, as a couple. It was putting themselves out there—it was Stefan putting himself out there for everybody to see that he was gay. And strangely enough, he wanted to do it. He wasn’t sure why, or when this had happened, or what exactly it had been that Imogen, or maybe even Gabby, had said to him that had changed his mind, that had made the issue of being seen with Lyle something desirable, but it was there. He’d been sure of it when he’d proposed it to Lyle, who’d said yes. It seemed like such a long time ago, asking him, even though it’d been barely a week ago. But they were going together; actually going together. Then there’d been the issue of the actual dancing part. Stefan wasn’t a dancer. He’d never been able to properly coordinate himself enough to be able to dance, and because of that, he’d never liked it. Even at Rita Skeeter’s party two months ago, he’d turned down dancing with May and Lyle, whom, at that point, he recalled—and wow it seemed like ages ago—neither knew the other had feelings for them. To say the least, it hadn’t been his forte, but here he was, with his boyfriend, who of course, knew how to dance, had been taught, before, and had been so gentle and kind about it that Stefan couldn’t say no. Lyle had wanted them to match, even just a little, and as Stefan had absolutely refused to wear something as obnoxiously loud as a red suit was, which was, admittedly, what Lyle was wearing, he’d agreed to pin a red flower to his own simple, black suit. The ball was tonight, and he’d agreed to meet Lyle in the Entrance Hall, where he’d heard other couples from different houses were meeting, in order to head into the Great Hall together. Together. He still couldn’t quite believe it.

It had taken him approximately an hour to get dressed, after taking a long, hot shower in order to calm his nerves—he was pretty sure he was about to explode from how jumpy he’d been all day—and step into his black trousers, white button-down dress shirt, and a black suit on top. The ensemble was elegant enough, but easy to blend into the background in. Nobody would be staring that way. Not that Lyle’s clothing choice was helping, either, but, he supposed, with a fond smile, that was what made his boyfriend unique. Licking his lips, Stefan finished combing his hair back into a neat style, and took a deep breath, staring at his reflection in the mirror; he looked paler than usual. He could do this, he told himself, he could. He wanted to and he would. Trying not to dwell too much on what was about to happen, he exited the bathroom and following, his dormitory, looking around the common room at the other people meeting their dates there; all the girls in long, beautiful dresses and the boys looking handsome in—mostly—black outfits, as well. His heart was at his throat as he descended from the Ravenclaw Tower, following the sound of people chatting away, and footsteps echoing across the castle, everybody headed to the Hall. It was the busiest he’d seen Hogwarts, he thought; there was almost tangible excitement in the air. Stefan bit his lip and hurried down the stairs towards the Entrance Hall, and he only had to lift his eyes for a second before spotting Lyle right away, inched towards the far right of the hall, almost hidden away in the shadows, unlike the rest of the students, who were talking animatedly and laughing in glittering dresses towards the doorway to the Great Hall. He took a deep breath and trotted over to him, stopping before him and letting out the gust of air. “Good evening,” he said quietly, smiling a little nervously at him, as he looked up. “You look like you could use a date tonight.

[/color]” He didn’t know why he was borderline teasing him; he wasn’t in the mood to be teasing anybody; not when he was this close to freaking out. Maybe it was a defense mechanism. Lyle looked up with an equally nervous laugh, looking around—almost as if he expected something else to happen, Stefan to back out of this or something, before he shoved something at him. Stefan looked down at what he was now holding in his hands and bit his lip, staring at the red flower that made up the boutonniere they’d agreed on, noticing the same one on Lyle’s chest, and with a shaky breath, reached up to pin it to the lapel of his coat. “Thank you,[/color]” he whispered, feeling pale, and he probably looked it, too, and cleared his throat, motioning towards the Great Hall. “Shall w—?[/color]” His voice broke a little at the end, nervously, and he cleared his throat again. Lyle glanced around and Stefan bit his lip again; his stomach twisting and turning uncomfortably in his stomach, as the other leaned in and told him they could spend the night together, elsewhere, if he preferred. He shook his head almost immediately, taking a deep breath. “I want to do this,[/color]” he whispered, locking eyes with him, searching his face. “If you want. Can we?[/color]” It was now or never, he knew that; if he lost the ounce of bravado he still had left, he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to ever face this again.

Lyle nodded. Then held out his hand. Stefan swallowed and let out a breath before nodding as well, reassuring him just as much as he was himself, and took it, squeezing it tightly. They turned around towards the Great Hall, and Stefan was sure he was going to start sweating from the anxiousness he was feeling right now, as they walked. He felt like every eye was on him, on them, even if maybe they weren’t, and he held on tighter to Lyle’s hand, seemingly the only thing that was holding him upright right now. The walk through the doors seemed endless, and he almost didn’t even notice how it was decorated, if it hadn’t been such a drastic change of color. Everything was done up in whites, and he held his breath at the elegance of it all before letting it out, glancing at Lyle sideways, feeling a little lost, and very, very scared. “Okay,[/color]” he whispered again, nodding. “This is it.[/color]” He wasn’t sure if he was speaking more to himself than anything else, when suddenly a flash of pink hurried towards them and wrapped her arms around Lyle. Stefan nearly jumped out of his skin before he realized it was Gabby, and took a moment to catch his breath as she turned to hug him as well. He didn’t let go off Lyle’s hand once, and returned the hug with one arm, laughing nervously and licking his lips out of habit more than anything. Her radiant smile would have been contagious if he hadn’t been freaking out internally, and he could barely blurt out a, “You look great, Gabby.[/color]” She seemed to excited about them, and commented on their outfits, and how red must have been Lyle’s idea and Stefan couldn’t even laugh or make any sort of remark on that because he was just clinging onto Lyle’s hand, curling up into his body a little, standing closer to him subconsciously, as Gabby talked and talked about how lovely everything looked. He nodded quickly, agreeing with her, and swallowed, taking a chance to quickly scan the room around them to see if anybody had noticed; if anybody was going to say something. There was barely a single eye on them, from what he could see. Deciding not to look any further, in case he just made himself worry more, he turned back to his friends, taking a deep breath and forced out a more convincing smile. “It does,[/color]” he agreed with Gabby. “Where’s your date?[/color]”
[/blockquote][/color]

[Serena Lovelace]

YOU'LL BE THE PRINCE &
I'LL BE THE P R I N C E S S
IT'S A LOVE STORY, BABY
JUST SAY Y E S

Serena was ready for tonight. She had a handsome pureblood boy for a date, a beautiful dress which wasn’t too revealing and yet wasn’t too childish, and all he role models were going to be condensed into one room for a whole evening and... she was just so ready for tonight. Giddily, she put the finishing touches on her makeup and admired her hair in the mirror of her dormitory, twirling around delightedly as the tulle layers on her dress swished against her legs. Tonight was going to be her night. No, she didn’t think she even stood a running chance for Princess or Duchess or anything like that, she didn’t mean it would be hers in that particular way, but she was completely certain that tonight was going to be perfect and beautiful, like a scene lifted straight from the pages of a fairy-tale, of which she was the subject, the heroine. Jezebel would have been proud of her for that comparison, she thought absently, slipping into her cute little mary-janes. At any rate, tonight she certainly felt like a princess, being all dolled up and so gloriously, perfectly pretty. She admired her nails, recently manicured, and applied a slight amount of lipstick to her little rosebud mouth as an attempt to look slightly more mature. She didn’t want to look too mature, mind, because then one always edged on the side of trying too hard, and woe betide the fool who ever tried too hard, she thought with a grimace––but no, tonight she just wanted to look and feel like a grown up, like an adult, like a woman, like a princess from a fairy-tale. And it was quite clear already that Calixto Bailer was definitely prince material. Oh, she liked him. The way his cute little smile tilted to the side, how his hair flipped back sort of naturally, the depth of his bright eyes, his muscular tone... well, to be frank, Serena really, really liked Calixto. He was of the Bailers, an extremely respectable family, and he was so utterly handsome and so utterly adorable and naive and, well, Serena sort of liked the idea of herself taking him under her wing and guiding him on the path to being all that he could become in the future... a perfect pureblood prince, like Lucius Malfoy or Aiden Neeson or something. Calixto was so childish in so many ways, but Serena had adopted it as her personal mission to train him into being a gentleman; he was like a wild horse, whom she was breaking, or a puppy, whom she was house training. But on such a grander level. It made her feel wholesome, complete, powerful... and she liked him. She liked him a lot. Whether or not he liked her remained to be seen, but after tonight, Serena was fairly certain he’d never be able to like anyone else.

Speaking of that, it was nearly time for him to meet her in front of the dungeons, she realized with a start. She let out a little “Oh!” before doing a nervous jump, grabbing her clutch, making one final glance at herself in the mirror, and sliding out the door. She nearly tripped running down the stairs because she was going so rapidly, but caught herself and managed to even steal a moment before she left the common room to smooth her dress over and run her fingers through her hair one last time. Breathe in, breathe out, she chanted to herself. Yes, she’d be waiting for this moment––for the freaking Yule Ball––for years now, and her heart was about to leap out of her chest because she was going with someone she really liked and admired, and it was just so perfect, but... but she must not lose control of herself. As a pureblood soon-to-be-lady, she must prepare for many excitements in the future, and learn to control her natural impulses to squee and carry on. One certainly didn’t see Narcissa Black squealing or anything of the kind, nor did one see Victoria MacMillan or Andromeda Black or Genevieve Sauveterre getting as excitable as children over the prospect of a ball. So, Serena, too, would remain cool and collected and calm, and she would behave just as she ought to at a formal function such as this. Calm, and––oof. Oh, dear. Serena choked back a little gasp as she turned around and saw the girl who had just bumped into her; the tall and gorgeous best friend of Narcissa Black, Tegan Darrowmere. Serena had heard... well... many things about the Darrowmeres, and to be honest, they sort of frightened her. She couldn’t hold back a little shiver as it danced down her spine. But the two of them together, they were so beautiful and so perfect, Narcissa and Tegan. There was something about them that just meshed and together, they essentially ruled all the Slytherin girls, Serena included. She really admired them. Even though Tegan had just sort of bumped into her, it didn’t matter. Oh, gosh, Serena wouldn’t wash that arm for weeks... She was Tegan Darrowmere and she was golden and if she was too busy giggling and oggling at Narcissa’s gorgeous choice of a dress to be able to walk in a straight line, well, that was her prerogative. Serena smiled and waved a little as they walked by, and then calmed her heartbeat. She must not make a fool of herself just because two of her idols walked by and one of them happened to touch her. They both looked so absolutely breathtaking, though, that Serena felt quite winded by them. She then looked down at her own dress and found that it paled rather sadly in comparison. Suddenly she was ashamed and felt very childish and wanted to find a better dress, but there was no time for that, for Calixto was waiting. Calixto, her prince, she thought with a private grin.

“Good evening, Mr. Bailer,” she greeted once she had finally left the common room and found him waiting, quite on time, for her in front of the dungeons. “You look very handsome.” And he did. In fact, she could barely stand to look at him for fear she would start blushing obnoxiously, or worse, staring like a little schoolgirl, so she kept her eyes respectively downward and restricted herself to exclusively close-lipped smiles. She was anxious, now, and terribly excited, and even though now she felt but a shadow in the shining light of Narcissa and Tegan, she felt a sun in the presence of Calixto. She knew right there and then that she would be glued to him all night, practicing as if she were his wife at a pureblood gala, talking and mingling with as many other couples and respectable people as she could, dancing gracefully, as she’d rehearsed... yes, tonight was to be perfect. A joy arose within her that only a young girl could understand. What if they were to be Mr. and Mrs. Bailer? What if she were to make her family proud by such a wondrous union? Her chest tingled a little and try as she might to act a lady, she looked a schoolgirl and she knew it, and it very much upset her. They had best get moving before she let her guard down any more. “Well, come on,” she began, resisting the urge to add ‘dear’ at the end, as if she truly were his wife, or his betrothed. “It’s past time we start heading to the Great Hall.” And when she looped his arm through his, she felt she might die, or her heart might burst, or both. Not only did she have one of the most handsome and respectable pureblood bachelors on her arm, but she was going to the Yule Ball, to the Yule Ball, for Morgana’s sake, and she was going to get to play at being a pureblood housewife, and it was all just so very grand. As soon as they arrived, she felt overwhelmed with not only the beauty of the place, but with the volume of people present. And they were all so glorious, and it filled Serena with an immeasurable longing to be down there, in the middle of it, at the center of attention, all eyes on her. But that, she couldn’t do. That would have to wait for her seventh year, most like, since she’d already come to the conclusion that she was going to be Head Girl and Yule Queen. However, tonight was just tonight, just her first ball, and she had to start small, every lady knew that. But the question was, where to start? There were so many people, dancing, talking, socializing... she glanced at Calixto, as if expecting him to guide her, as a proper pureblood husband would do with his wife, but of course, what could she expect of him? He was still a work in progress. So she had to lead this. For a while she just sort of ambled as slowly and gracefully as she could, dragging Calixto along with her and trying to make it look purposeful and deliberate, as if she had a reason to be simply wandering aimlessly about. She supposed that they should dance first, though, since that was what everyone seemed to be doing, but... she was a little nervous about dancing with Calixto, truth be told, because she was ever-so-fearful of spoiling it. True, Serena had practiced for hours and hours on end these past few days trying to perfect her technique, but when one was nervous anything could go awry, and she was utterly terrified that she would flub something miserably and oh, if she did that, she would surely never be able to show her face in public again!

She was stalling, and she was fairly certain Calixto knew it, too. She didn’t know if he knew that he was supposed to ask her to dance, but she didn’t want to insult his manhood by reminding him, so she just waited and looked up at him expectantly, batting her eyelashes just in the slightest so that he would perhaps recognize it as a cue. Just as she was doing this, though, she noticed Vivi Sauveterre entering with none other than Regulus Black on her arm. Serena was scandalized. She couldn’t imagine why on earth Regulus would do such a thing to Victoria! And to be frank, she was certainly miffed that Vivi would have agreed to it! Although, it must be taken into account that Regulus and Vivi were an exceptionally attractive couple, and much alike in their expectations of a relationship––or so Serena thought––that it would only be natural for them to attend in any other circumstance, but this? He was engaged! He couldn’t just go parading around with other women! He was supposed to be with Tori! Oh, this wasn’t right, this wasn’t right at all. She would have stamped her foot and launched into a full-out tantrum if she hadn’t been in the presence of others. This was absurd and unacceptable and Serena would definitely need to find Tori later and tell her how abominably her betrothed was behaving and how Serena was going to do just everything in her power to make sure she never had to suffer the humiliation of taking the surname of Black. Soothing herself with the thought of revenge, Serena directed her focus back to Calixto and waited, nervously, for him to ask her to dance. She ever so hoped she wouldn’t do anything embarrassing, and if she did––well, she hoped it would be something like, her shoe fell off, and he would have to give it back to her, just like Cinderella and her prince. But no, Serena was decidedly not Cinderella, and Calixto was decidedly not Cinderella’s prince.

In fact, they were their own fairy-tale, tonight.

WE WERE BOTH YOUNG
WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU

[evie]

Evelyn had not been genuinely nervous about something for a long, long time. Fact of the matter is, she doesn't exactly get nervous. She's been so used to taking part in competitions and other nerve-wracking activities that, after a while, she simply became immune, if you could really call it that. She just didn't get nervous anymore, because getting nervous was stupid when you know whatever you were about to do, you would succeed, no matter what. Failing just wasn't an option, so why be nervous? But tonight. Tonight she was definitely nervous. There was no other word to describe the feeling she was currently experiencing; there was definitely no denying the knots that were twisting in her stomach, or the fact that she was actually kind of sweating, or the fluttering of her heart. Her heart was actually fluttering with excitement. She couldn't remember the last time that had happened, except maybe it had been at her very first recital or something; yes, it felt like it had been that far back. Although it probably wasn't, and she was probably exaggerating, which probably wasn't helping with her nerves anyway. It was just that this was the first time in her history at Hogwarts that Evelyn Townsend was actually going to the Yule ball. And not just that, but she was actually going with a date. And even though she didn't exactly have feelings for her date, because it was just Peter Pettigrew and, although he was an important friend to her, she didn't exactly feel that way about him. But either way, he was her date. He'd actually asked her to the Yule ball - she hadn't even brought it up, let alone tried to hint for it, he'd just said it. And it was just nice, really. That during her last year of Hogwarts she would finally get the opportunity to go to the ball, just like everyone else, and she'd be able to have a date so there was no worry of becoming an awkward wall flower - unless Peter decided to hang out with Remus, but she doubted he'd ditch her, Peter simply wasn't that cruel. Besides, they were friends, and hadn't seen each other in months. She was sure he saw Remus plenty, seeing as they were both graduated and, she assumed, just as tight as they were before - them and the other two Marauders, of course. It'd be a shame if after seven years of friendship, they began to drift apart. But she doubted something like that could happen to the infamous Marauders. No, no she was positive they were just as joined at the hip today as they were when they were running around causing mayhem in school; they wouldn't have had it any other way. Oh God, why was she even thinking about the marauders right now? Evelyn groaned and raked her fingers through her hair before breathing deeply. She had an hour left till the ball, and all of her dorm mates were fluttering around, getting ready for it. She should be getting ready for it, too, not being all...nervous. This wasn't her! Evelyn Townsend did not get nervous.

"Evelyn Townsend does not get nervous," she growled at her reflection. Except she does, and she did, and she didn't know what to do about it. Maybe she ought to use her soothing words...but she hadn't used those in years and she didn't even remember most of them, let alone know whether they would actually work or not. Evelyn felt her cat nudge her leg lightly and she sighed and looked down. She was being ridiculous, she told herself as she picked up Hamlet and let him curl in her lap. Absently, she stroked his fur. Absolutely ridiculous. There was nothing to be nervous about! Just because it was going to be a dance...full of people...who probably looked a lot more attractive than her in their gorgeous dress robes...and who had tons of friends they could talk to...nope, nothing to be nervous about at all. "At least you have a date,"

[/color] she told her mirror, and then mentally rolled her eyes. Great. Now she was talking to herself. Wasn't that the first sign of insanity or something? Peter had warned her about this. That all her studying and activities was going to drive her absolutely bonkers. And maybe this time he was right and she was wrong. It could happen. Huffing loudly, Evelyn stood up and placed the purring feline onto her bed before starting to strip down to her knickers, deciding it was finally time to get ready. She carefully slipped on her dress, smoothed out the soft material and shaking out invisible wrinkles, and then turned to the mirror. Her dress was gorgeous, of course; her mother had bought it that summer, although it wasn't exactly for this occasion. Her parents didn't know that she was going to the Yule Ball; hell, they didn't even know there was one. Evelyn had decided not to tell them, for fear of them forbidding her from going. They'd think it was a waste of time; precious time that she ought to be using to study, or to practice piano, or something else. And Evelyn had almost considered writing back to Peter and canceling the whole thing several times, but something stopped her every time; perhaps it was the fact that she didn't want to cancel. She genuinely wanted to go to the ball. So sue her for wanting to be a teenager for one night of her miserable life and actually have some semblance of fun! Perhaps this could be a stepping stone to her future social life! Hadn't Rita told her that she'd be invited to the next party? And although the Yule ball wasn't exactly exclusive (unless you were a third year or under, in which case you weren't allowed to attend), it was still a party. Sort of. Just without alcohol. Which is just as well, because Evelyn isn't interested in drinking anyway. While she was seventeen, and thus it wouldn't be illegal, the whole concept of drinking didn't appeal to her. Alcohol caused people to do stupid things, become out of control, and generally act like a complete fool - all of which were not things that Evelyn wanted. Perhaps this was the best way to introduce herself to the party scene; by going to a supervised and controlled one!

Already feeling better, Evelyn finished up her make-up - which was very light, since she didn't believe in putting on glops of colour, not to mention she didn't know how - and slipped her feet into her high-heels. When she stood, she teetered a little, and had to grab onto the closest surface to regain her balance, cringing inwardly. She wasn't exactly used to high heels, seeing as she didn't wear them often, and she realised her mistake of not practicing beforehand now; it had been stupid not to. But hopefully she'd be able to get away with it. As long as she clung onto Peter's arm the entire time, tried not to dance too much, and hoped he had good balance, otherwise they'd both wind up in a heap in the middle of the dance floor because she'd twisted her ankle. She'd hate to end the night in the hospital wing on account of her own clumsiness, after all. While walking down the stairs, she pathetically wondered if she would even get to begin the night, since there were quite a few moments where she was convinced she was about to topple head first down the stairs. Thankfully, she made it to the Entrance hall in one piece, and she was surprised to see Peter already there, waiting for her. True, she'd been running a little late (she chalked it up to nerves, because she was always punctual), but she'd expected Peter to be the one to keep her waiting. Not that she meant any offense by it or anything, of course, it was just that arriving on time had never been Peter's strongest suit, as far as she knew. Obviously, she was mistaken. Smiling, she carefully made her way over to him just as he spotted her and they met half way. The shoes were already beginning to pinch at her feet, and her toes were beginning to ache, but she tried to ignore that in preference to greeting Peter. "Hello, Peter!"[/color] she exclaimed, smiling at him warmly. She'd genuinely missed him, after all. For a moment, she hovered awkwardly in front of him, wondering whether she should hug him or not. She generally disliked hugs because she found them awkward and never knew what went there - where were you supposed to put your hands? And was your chin supposed to just rest on their shoulder, or were you supposed to tuck your head into their chest, but if she did wouldn't that ruin her make up? And how long was she supposed to cling onto him for? And what if she held the hug for too long and he became uncomfortable? Or, worse, what if she held it for too short of a time and he was insulted and thought that she thought he had bad body odor? Growing even more paranoid, Evelyn decided to forgo the whole hug and instead thrust her hand out between them for a hand shake. Great way to start the night, no? Let the awkwardness begin.

[/blockquote][/color]

[ameliabones]

I’ve found some kind of
~~~ F a i r y t a l e ~~~

Amelia messed up her hair for what had to have been the millionth time that day, sighing and clicking her tongue at the fact that her hair simply did not want to cooperate with her on what was, quite possibly, the most important evening of her life. That’s right- tonight was the evening of the school’s annual Yule Ball. Normally, Mia could care less about the dance- choosing to take advantage of the empty common room and comfy couches, curling up in front of the fire with a novel instead. That was why, when Gill had asked who she was going with, she had replied no one; mostly because she hadn’t even made the effort to ask anyone to go with her. However, her mind about the Ball changed as soon as her love, her Gill had asked her to accompany him… She was elated! Ecstatic! Some other E-word with an exclamation point! It was probably the most exciting thing that had happened in her entire lifetime, and Mia was not about to look shabby. Oh, no! She had owled her Mum the night that Gill had asked her to be his date and asked her to ship over a dress that she thought would look good on her daughter.

Currently, she was in the middle of her dormitory staring at the mirror, trying to get her hair to do exactly what she wanted it to. That was only half the battle, seeing as Mia rarely ever did anything with her hair so she really didn’t have any idea exactly how to do what she wanted… How can I expect my hair to do what I want if I don’t even know what I want it to do…?

she thought, piecing the chunks of hair together bit by bit. Finally, it ended up looking somewhat like she had hoped… Actually, it almost looked better! She applied her makeup subtly and thought, Gill is going to love this! I look pretty, but not too overdone… Yes, he’ll definitely like this![/color] Smiling, she called Bridget over to help her put on her dress. Her friend helped Mia zip up the back and Mia heard Bridget breath out a low, ‘Wow…’ She couldn’t entirely tell if that was a good thing or not... She hoped it was. The dress was gorgeous, she had to admit, and her Mum did a really great job finding a dress that would fit Mia’s body perfectly even if it was a little more risqué than Mia might’ve picked out for herself. After some assurance from her best friend that the neck line wasn’t so low that you could see all of Mia’s chest-y bits, Mia finally allowed herself to look at the whole picture in the full-length mirror. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing! Honestly, she looked better than she ever believed she could have- her hair[/color] was half-up, her bangs and the rest of her hair was slightly curled, giving her a romantic vibe. And her dress[/color]… Just, wow. It was a navy blue, floor-length gown that was sprinkled with sequins in swirly designs, most of them on the bust, and had a sweetheart neckline. Modest enough for one night… Mia thought rather nervously, since she didn’t want to give Gill the wrong impression or anything. Sure, she was in love with him and wanted him to know it, but she didn’t want him to think she was only after… well, that.

She sighed and shook her head slightly. There’s no way Gill could only think you were after sex with him… You barely even kissed him when you were together- why would he think you wanted more now?[/color] She smiled and realized- she was going to be late if she didn’t leave soon! Positively giddy, Amelia grabbed her little black clutch off of her bed and made her way toward the grand staircase at the entrance hall. This was where Gill had said he would meet her- at the bottom, of course- and a bunch of other girls were walking down them with as much nervous energy as Mia had. Taking a deep breath, she began to approach the stairs, thinking about everything that her and Gill had gone through throughout their past few years together. She had fallen in love with him from the moment they had met, though of course she had never told him that… Then they had begun to date and Mia felt as if she were floating amongst the clouds during that period of time. They had been happy, or so she believed, even though they only kissed a few times and had held hands instead of… well, other things couples usually did. But they were young! They didn’t need to be doing those kinds of things yet! Mia was waiting for marriage, and she didn’t think that was such a crazy idea. In fact, she thought it was a rather smart one! However, Gill apparently hadn’t been happy because he broke things off a short while later. She had been devastated, but told him it would be perfectly alright to remain good friends… And they did. She had been fine with that, even if she still loved him- at least he was still near.

But then he had confessed his love for Bridget. She had been standing near them in the train station and had heard every word out of her two best friends’ mouths. Bridget had, thankfully, politely reclined his affection, but Gill had been heartbroken from what Mia could tell. I think that’s what killed me the most… I just wanted him to be happy.[/color] She thought, turning the corner to see Gill lost in thought at the bottom of the stairs. That gave her time to reminisce about last summer when Gill had called on her to comfort him at his house and to console him about his loss over Bridget… That had been hard enough for her, but then Gill had ended up sleeping with her (just sleeping!) and had proceeded to avoid her like the bubonic plague for the first part of the year… She looked up to see Gill now staring at her in awe, almost as if she were some kind of- well, royalty. It made her feel on top of the world, as if she were the most beautiful girl in the whole room. At the moment, Gill looked as if he only had eyes for Mia and it was giving her stomach butterflies. As she reached the end of the stairs, Amelia smiled softly and looked directly into his gorgeous eyes. ”You look very handsome,”[/b] she began, before being pulled into his arms. Shocked, she just let him envelope her, holding her close to his frame, before hugging him back. This was where she wanted to be. She had missed this so much and she couldn’t imagine why Gill had ever wanted this to stop… When he whispered that she was stunning into her ear, she almost felt like crying- she was so incredibly happy! ”Thank you,”[/b] she whispered back, genuinely overjoyed. She had almost forgotten what a gentleman he was, even if he was a tad obsessed with his looks… Suddenly, she felt his lips brush her forehead lightly, so lightly she almost didn’t even feel it and she blushed a light shade of pink, thankful that his chest and arms were hiding her face from him at the moment. He pulled back slightly and slid a corsage around her wrist, the unexpected muggle-tradition making her giggle a bit. It was beautiful, however, and matched her dress perfectly. Her eyes went wide- Bridget must’ve told him what color to get her since she hadn’t told anyone other than her best friend what color her dress was! ”It’s beautiful Gill, thank you. Really.”[/color] She felt like a genuine princess and that this was the beginning of hers and Gills fairy tale… ”Well,”[/b] she began after a moment, Gill’s face still very near hers, ”shall we?” Taking his arm, the pair proceeded into the great hall to begin the night they would remember for the rest of their lives.

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Isaac Ryder]

From what I’ve heard,
With skin, you’ll w i n

Isaac hadn’t prepared for the Yule Ball as much as most guys his age had. Most of the had dates to look perfect for- but not Isaac. He was a player, a true lady’s man and would be there for any girl that needed a shoulder to cry on because they had no one to dance with… or any guy, for that matter. Many guys around him had been chattering about this event for weeks now and it was on every girl’s mind whether they wanted to admit it or not. To tell the truth, Isaac was a bit sick of it all but was mostly going for Anya. That’s right- Isaac didn’t have a romantic date; one of his best friends, Anastasia Petrova, had agreed about a week beforehand that she would accompany him to the Ball. Of course, he had to promise that he wouldn’t get all clingy if she tried to dance with someone else and, being the real man that he is, he gladly obliged to her request. Plus, he was mostly going to try and steal a certain Ravenclaw away from his date, anyway…

Isaac straightened his bowtie

and made on last minor fix on his hair before sitting on the edge of his bed to lace up his dress shoes. Now, Isaac was fairly used to dress robes, having to wear them constantly for parties his Mum or Dad hosted, but that didn’t mean he would ever be comfortable in them… Heading out the door, he nodded to some of the very handsome-looking men on the way to the common room and winked to a few of the ladies as he passed by. He met up with Anya in the common room and told her how ravishing she was looking that evening and, after she had taken his arm, they made their way to the great hall to enjoy the festivities. When Isaac entered the hall with Anya, it seemed for a moment as if all eyes had turned to them. They were a gorgeous couple, of course- that is, if they were a couple. The talk of night amongst most of the Slytherins that night would be how, ‘I didn’t know that Isaac and Anya were together! I thought he didn’t tie down to anyone!’ or, ‘Good going for him, man… But he’s in his prime now- why would he stick with only her?’ And Isaac would just laugh because, well, he really didn’t tie down to anyone. He hated the idea of relationships and had sworn to himself that he would always be a guy with many, many sexual partners. And that was that.

Once they were inside the hall, Anya left him to get a drink and chat with a few of her friends over at one of the tables, and Isaac was left alone for the moment. The party was already in full swing- they had decided to arrive fashionably late- and couples were gyrating their hips together in the middle of the floor as if this was their last night together… And with the strange occurrences that had been happening lately, Isaac couldn’t blame them for thinking that. Hell, they might even be right. Or it was possibly just a way for them to get away with touching each other in public- that was the kinkier idea of the two. Looking around, Isaac tried to spot the Ravenclaw he had been flirting with a couple weeks before. A boy called Stefan Capper- stylish brown hair, fairly short, good body build. Yeah, Isaac wanted to tap that, there was no doubt about it; but there was something more there. He didn’t think it was the fact that the young boy had immediately turned him down or the fact that he had been persistent with denying him and hadn’t given in at any point… However, Isaac was going to change that tonight; there would be no more denying him from Stefan. Isaac had made up his mind, and once that happened, there was little else the other person could do but accept it. He sought out the small boy and finally found him by a taller Hufflepuff and they were holding hands. Okay, good- so Isaac hadn’t been wrong about his feeling that Stefan was gay, but he hadn’t remembered the boy telling him that he had a boyfriend… Oh wait, yes, yes he did. He had actually said he was just dating somebody, but Isaac had just pushed that fact aside.

Truth was, the day Isaac had written that note to Stefan and had said he would wait in the entrance hall at eight o’clock for the younger boy? He actually had. His pride would never let him admit it, but he had actually went and waited for the little twerp just to find out that he been rejected by him yet again… But that actually made Isaac want him more. Now, instead of just a sample of the boy, Isaac wanted everything. To know everything about him and to really make him fall in love with Isaac- even if Isaac was incapable of loving him back. He positioned himself right around the corner from Stefan and his date, waiting for the most opportune moment to try to get to him.

Oh yeah. Isaac was getting what he wanted tonight- Stefan Capper.
[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[severen]

SHWING!
I am reserving this spot for my own private use. YEAH. THAT'S RIGHT.