On notes throughout the castle, eight pointed stars suddenly flash and then darken to a dull grey. If watched, a rather intricate script begins to spell out, “The hour is almost at hand for cloaked figures to seek the stars.”

The text on notes everywhere fades out again, the eight pointed star with it. The papers remain blank a moment, and as clocks and pocket watches throughout the castle read eight fifty-five in the evening, words appear again: Come, or be forever lost to SEA.

Deep as night at the nine oh clock hour is this Hall of the Stars. The tapestries provide the only light, and even then many of the stars are dimmer than usual. Although curfew has not yet been called, something is unnaturally silent, footsteps muted against the floor, any voices reduced to a hush. In the darkness, forms are shadowy, the light cast from faux stars not brilliant enough to reveal detailed shapes and faces.

Keelan Walsh is nestled against a corner of the wall, cloak drawn close about her, hood already up. She practically blends directly into the wall, merely more darkness. Watchful, she waits for more figures to arrive, barely moving save to breathe. No, Professor Walsh won’t say a word for now, but will wait. Yes, she shall wait.

Rhian Brecon comes the stairwell. She had every right to be out and about at this hour, even after curfew, as a Prefect. While she didn’t wish to get anyone in trouble, she was still curious about this whole thing. In her regular school robes, her wand hidden in her robe and the darkest cloak she had, a nice midnight blue around her shoulders, and her hood up, but hiding her face, she comes into the Hall of Stars, seeing if there was anyone else that had arrived before her.

The usually boisterous second year Briony Wexler almost tip-toes into the Hall of the Stars, ready to bolt for the Picture Room should this turn out to be a hoax. She doesn’t dare say anything, but seems to be trying to disappear altogether in her robes as she makes her way into the Hall of Stars, lurking far back from any other people already queued up in the hall. After all, she doesn’t want to get into trouble if this ends up being a bad situation.

Clavicle Gravely comes in wearing a brownish grayish cloak, of deep earth tones. He steps in quietly and looks about with a curious gaze. His near skeletal frame is hard to recognize beneath the fabric.

Marie-Anna Greyton quietly walks in, making little sound or, for that, hardly any appearance as her black, hooded cloak is drawn up her. It is with care that this prefect makes her way into the room. Eyes dart about to see if she can disern who else may have been invited to thise most secret meeting.

Yeegads! It is a dementor! -Not. It is just Landon in an extreme large robe with his good up. The excess fabric hangs like curtains off of his thin frame and some drags behind him as he walks. He seems to have magically altered the front, though so he won’t trip. Who knew the tailor genes would come in handy!? Presently, he is leaning against the wall in his usual nonchalant manner. Or, at least, that’s all one can assume. With his hood pulled as it is, he could be smiling from ear to ear and nobody would know. That would never happen, though.

Walking almost on tiptoe, Aisling O‘Cormac endevours to make no sound as she enters the room, her ploy somewhat ruined by the slight rustling her robes and cloak make. Glancing around, she drifts over to one of the walls, trying to make herself even smaller than she already is, and attempting to fade into the wall itself.

Scurrying through the hallway and pushing into the shadows, a small form in school robes and a plain hooded cloak catches its breath. Stealing as silently as possible to the meeting place, Astra is dressed like every other student, her hood pulled over her hair to hide her face. Grinning to herself in a mischievous fashion, she’s out for a bit of fun tonight and hopefully no one will recognize her immediately for who she really is.

A lofty form sheltered in a thick black cloak that is just barely too small for her, Clementine Duncan enters the Hall of Stars. The almost deafening silence of the place and the girl’s incredibly desire not to disturb it forces out a raspy little cough. “Sorry.” She excuses herself in a whisper, moving against the wall as well. The tall third year smiles nervously, but no one can see that ideally.

Cloak on, hood up and hanging over his face, Evan Geroff is in that way a copy of every other person showing up tonight. He says nothing, arriving as silently as possible, curious excitement hidden by the same dark that hides his eyes and the hood under which a grin might just be made out, if the dim light managed to hit it. Upon spotting the collection of shadowed shapes, he turns back partway, one hand spread out toward the group as bobs his head to a second figure with him.

“We’ll get into trouble,” the girl hisses quietly, instantly regretting having said anything, given the silence that is resounding in the area. She instantly silences herself, hanging just outside of the group that is gathering, though not so far as to stand against the wall as some people appear to be doing. While she doesn’t voice this, Olivia finds herself wondering very strongly what it is that she’s been dragged here for.

Lyre King purposefully flows into the room. His raven black robes curl behind him on the barest of breezes, showing how fine the silky material is. He adjusts his hood to hide his dark eyes, which he scans the room with. He takes note that there are two adults in the room. He breathes a sigh of relief, assured that he will not get in trouble for being here.

Cloaked and hooded, Martin Foster pads into the room–each step purposefully silent. He peers about the room in continued silence at the students in attendance–all dressed like himself. He raises his index finger to his lips as if to prevent himself (or somebody else?) from speaking. Curiously, the Head Boy’s eyebrows furrow as he crosses his arms comfortably over his chest.

Keelan Walsh steps forward from her corner, not lowering her hood. Eyes well adjusted to the dim light of the room, but she is no better at discerning hooded faces in nearly complete darkness than most are. “I suppose,” she begins quietly, “I should first explain why you have all been invited.” It’s not really a question, and Keelan pushes her glasses up her nose. “It is to teach, yes, but not a subject commonly taught within the walls of our fine school. Not, in my opinion, studied enough either. No, not lectures or in all liklihood books, although they make have their place. I wish also to learn.” She stops, and her tone changes, “How many of you know of the secret passage ways of our school? How many have been into the Forbidden Forest or dared dream of the secrets concealed within these very walls?” Her voice hushes, though she still sounds very grave, “How many of you are aware of the world outside this school? How many… have even read a novel? Fiction, not facts, dates, figures.” Her tone brightens by a small degree, “I mean to teach the art of adventure, as I myself learned it right here in Hogwarts.”

Rhian Brecon turns as she notices someone moving other than the students who showed up, and starts speaking. She knows that voice… and it’s not the voice of a child either. One of the professors? Teaching them the art of adventure? This will be interesting. She says nothing though, not invited to speak, nor apparently the desire to reveal herself since the purpose of all this was to remain hidden from the others, and professor.

Listening quietly to the Professor, Aisling brightens a bit at the mention of adventure, and at the query regarding books. Having read anything she could get her hands on, she has read a few novels in her time, often wishing that her life could be adventurous as that of those in the novels. Still silent, she turns so that she has a good view of the speaking figure, and also of many of the others in the room. Well – as good as a view as the dim light provides.

Clavicle Gravely tilts his head and listens. His eyes narrow a touch as he tries to place the voice. He’s not sure if it’s a seventh year or a teacher. But he nods. Beneath his hood he had the forethought to wear a mask, a carnival mask of a Coyote. As his head raises, the snout emerges from the shadow.He answers “Laughing Coyote Agrees.”

Evan Geroff shakes his head at Olivia, exaggerated a bit so she has some hope of seeing it. Leaning over, in a whisper to barely reach his own ears, he whispers, “We won’t. We’ll just take a look..” Even the whisper stops as Keelan begins to speak. He has moved no closer to the group than Olivia, staying at her side, but he looks over toward the center once before looking back at her and grinning. “See?” Despite the whisper his voice remains in, the word comes out too quickly to be anything but pleased with the beginnings of the night. Keelan may not completely have to teach him adventure, but that’s no reason not to remain and enjoy some of it. And he hasn’t been in some of those places.

Not daring to speak for fear of blowing her cover, Astra hunkers down in her cloak and makes sure the hood is well pulled up to obscure her features. Standing on tiptoes, she hangs back far enough to scamper off again if she doesn’t feel comfortable, but right now, she’s just grinning from ear to ear. Excited and amused, she raises a hand to her mouth and lowers her head to suppress a laugh, whether from nervousness or something else she does not share.

“Adventure!” Briony hisses, noticably excited at the idea. Somoene who sounds like an adult is telling her that she’s going to learn to embrace adventures. The girl claps her hand over her mouth quickly, though, noticing how quiet the hall still is. Learn to keep your mouth shut, Briony! Looking around finally at the group happily, Briony‘s face, were it more visible to her peers, would be a bright and excited one. She can hardly wait. And she who always loved finding adventures!

Marie-Anna Greyton ponders the questions quietly, but she dares not break the silence. Therefore the prefect stands stationary, hidden by cloak and hood.

Eyebrows still furrowed, Martin Foster shifts slightly as Keelan speaks. The professor’s voice is familiar, but the Head Boy can’t place it. He continues to have his arms crossed. Adventure? A little unconventional, but interesting none the less. Biting his lower lip, he continues to stare at the speaking hooded figure, skeptical about the whole affair.

“Adventures?” Olivia whispers dubiously, trying to see over a particularly tall person in front of her, trying to find out why it is she recognizes that voice. She is certain that it will become clear soon, who it is exactly, and that it will make her feel more at ease. The silence which all of those gathered are employign unnerves her a bit and she takes a step behind Evan, just a bit, not feeling entirely at ease.

Thankfully, her own hood is large enough to keep Clementine‘s large snout concealed. She stays quiet as Keelan begins her introduction and continues through it, unconsciously taking a few nervous steps back towards the wall. She doesn’t pay much attention to whether or not there is anyone there already.

The person speaks and Landon doesn’t move an inch. As those who know him probably know, his eyes moved toward the person but nothing else. If anyone was low enough to see up his hood, they would see his eyebrow arch upwards, but he doesn’t speak. When a few people around him start to close in, Landon pushes off of the wall with the foot he was leaning on, and he slides towards everyone else in one, silent, fluid motion.

Lyre‘s grin looks almost like a sneer, though it isn’t his fault. He is practically shaking with excitement at the idea of knowing all of the secrets of the castle.

Clavicle says, “Laughing Coyote wants these secrets you speak of. What must we do to earn them?” he asks…speaking in a gruff voice in an attempt to disguise himself. “We’re quite interested indeed.”"

Keelan Walsh responds with what is if not delight than a tremor of excitement(a quality which her students are not likely to recognize when not raving about plants), “Laughing Coyote, I see you have chosen a name… you must, however, have patience.” Her lips tug into a smile, “Nothing we will have to do, of course.” She moves her hand a bit and the stars subtly begin to brighten, though they do not cast much light even when they are at full force. Her full height is visible, rare enough in a female, “However, yes, adventure. After all, you were invited to the Society for Exploration and Adventure. It will be, I assure you, more than a simple title. However… to become a true member, you must all swear to secrecy. It would not do for certain individuals to discover what we will be up to.” She pronounces this as though she has people in mind as the enemies of adventure. As the room reaches it’s normal level of light, Keelan observes, at the least, the sizes of the people here. “First we have to decide–do we see each other, or do we not?” Her hood remains up, although it’s unlikely that there are any other five-foot-eleven glasses wearing persons with that particular tone of voice. “There is a certain appeal to some amount of anonymity, but this is a society, not a classroom. Come on, I want to hear opinions–and why!” Another smile, just barely visible.

Aisling O‘Cormac looks towards the voice. “Anonymity ensures that no one can tell on us, because they don’t know who we are.” She offers quietly. “But on the other hand, for a society, especially for adventure, we need to have at least a degree of trust in each other – and would we, not knowing anything about the next person?” Having said this, the young girl looks at her feet, turning over the options in her mind, wondering what the others think.

Rhian Brecon clears her throat a bit then speaks up, but changing her voice slightly so it might not be recongized. “I say we do, so that if messages must be passed, we know who we can give them to, and who we cannot. But what if we each know about two others in the society, then we cannot reveal everyone.”

Clavicle says, “Laughing Coyote says there is truth in anonymity. In that truth, one is allowed freedom behind a mask one is not allowed face to face. It allows one to be free of the consequences of that truth. Laughing Coyote advises secrecy. ” the Coyote snout bobs as it’s wearer speaks in the gruff voice. “Laughing Coyote thinks we should take on names. So we have a life of two faces, one here and one the teachers know. Laughing Coyote sees truth in this, and hopes you do as well.”"

Marie-Anna Greyton nods quietly. “Perhaps we each only know one or two people, no two people knowing the same person. For example Person A knows Person B and C, person B knows A and D, C knows B and E…” she offers in a quiet manner. “Or, perhaps, we stick with the method in which we where invited here… only the host know who the members are…” is given in a quiet tone.

Speaking is not something Astra is willing to do and so she keeps her mouth firmly shut, lifting her head as she listens to the students and their opinions about secrecy. Tugging at her hood, she then drops her hand away and slips back a step to stand off to one side.

“Don’t worry,” Evan whispers back to Olivia, one hand moving in the darkness to fold behind his back instead of hang at his side, though he does no more with it. “It’ll be fun.. and you won’t be forced into anything, I promise.” At the question, he glances back toward the center, calling out quietly yet much above the whisper he’s been using, “See. After swearing the oath. At least,” he picks up on Marie-Anna’s idea, “some other people, for safety.”

Like Astra, Martin says nothing. He’s still not entirely sure what to think of this entire affair, and feels no need to offer an opinion at this time. Shrugging his shoulders, the Head Boy sinks further into his hood. He frowns at Clavicle’s alternative name suggestion, and after clearing his throat, breaks his own silence, “Knowing only a few other people adds to the mystery.”

Clavicle says, “Laughing Coyote Sees the wisdom in that one’s way. She advises what is known as a insurgent cell structure. If captured no one can reveal the entire cell membership. Laughing Coyote thinks that person is wise.” He smiles “An enchanted scroll could be made…that by putting our mark, the maker would be hexed for revealing secrets.” ”

Eyes dart from person to person as they speak. Landon, however says nothing. It isn’t that he’s worried about remaining anonymous, he just doesn’t feel like talking, which is frequently the case. He straightens up, slightly, though, as he peers around at the other occupants of the room. The large robes will conceal his identity, though, standing straight up, or crouched down, he still won’t look like much more than an heap of fabric.

Clavicle Gravely points to the hooded figure who spoke of knowing only one or two names

Clementine Duncan continues to stay quiet, nodding along with those whom she agrees with and not with those she doesn’t. Of course, it isn’t very clear whether or not she is for or against secrecy. She keeps speaking to a minimum, as she would in class, really. The idea of picking names does appeal to her, even a little more then the idea of adventuring. She’s torn, and so, can’t speak out for herself. Secrecy is important. Someone should know who the members are, though. After Marie-Anna’s explanation and Laughing Coyote’s agreement, Clementine points to the hooded figure as well.

Gingerly, Olivia spies Evan’s hand and grasps onto it, feeling a bit of relief as she gives his hand a tight squeeze, perhaps a little harder than necessary. “Shouldn’t we know one another. Aren’t societies for comradery as well as their function?” Olivia speaks up, an unusual demonstration for the Hufflepuff girl. She steps back out from behind Evan and glance around, trying to discern the faces of those around her. All the hoods up make it difficult, as well as her own limited peripheral vision due to her own hood. “But we don’t have to–” she adds slowly, as if stating the desire for a bit less secrecy within would oust her from the group before she even found out just what kinds of things they would be finding out.

“Maybe we should have code names, like what he’s got!” Briony pipes up, perhaps a bit loudly. “And then we only call each other by them when we’re talking about matters here.” The girl beams at the idea and tries to make her way forward a bit, though she can’t make out anybody’s face at all, regardless of how she tries. It is simply too dark in the hall. The quiet atmosphere seems to have subsided just a bit as many of the folks present voice their opinions.

“Excellent points, one and all. Although…” Keelan pauses, musing it over for herself. “There is merit to taking on alter egos, though I would rather, I admit, it be knowing everyone or knowing noone. I… doubt there will be any matter of danger, as far as that is involved.” She looks at the figure in the mask, easier to pick out now than before, “I assure you that I have every intention of keeping this quite seperate from schoolwork.” Another twitchy smile, and she adjusts her glasses again, “Perhaps masks for us all, and code names? Then,” she smiles warmly, if only dimly visible, toward Olivia, “we may have a semblence of the comraderie so vital to a society, and retain our daily identities as well.” It doesn’t sound like a descision, and she looks about the room again. Somewhat accusatory comes, “Not all of you have spoken.”

Rhian Brecon has already spoken her opinion of what could be done, so now remains silent to see what others think of.

Marie-Anna Greyton remains silent, along with Rhian, seeing as she has already had her say.

Martin Foster is quite proud of his speaking now (he would have rather not spoken altogether). His lips curl into a small smirk behind his cloak. Oh the excitement!

Evan Geroff sqeezes back, only gently, as Olivia takes his hand, then holds on gently as well. “If it’s everything or none,” Evan pauses, voice pitched to address the group again, clarifying his opinion though he did speak before, “I’d rather know people. Names will be put to every-day faces eventually anyway, as we get to know each other here.”

Backing up another step, the would-be student looks to her right and then to her left, as if seeking out some sort of support from the few others who have said nothing. Shrugging her shoulders, Astra then chooses someone taller and close by, settling on one of the many hooded students. The person’s she’s randomly chosen is Martin, but she still is not aware of that fact and so tries to slink behind him or at least closer to him.

Clavicle Gravely watches Astra now…as the ‘student’ begins slinking about. “Laughing Coyote thinks some are frightened now. And before anything else is said, those who have had second thoughts should be allowed to leave. After they have left, Laughing Coyote thinks we should move as well, before the head mistress comes.”

Clementine Duncan retracted her pointing hand soon after jutting it out, but takes a hesitant step away from the wall, “I think it’ad be be’er if we all started off on an equal playin’ feild persay. If we were to know who eachother truly were. It might ruin that. Biases ..such ‘s class rankings… prefects and whatnot.” She thinks sadly to herself that she’s going to end up having to have some type of bird-mask, what with her nose. Her long arms cross tightly under her cloak. Behind her hood, she blushes hard, not having really paid enough attention to what she just said.

Stepping even closer, looking about as people begin to pipe up even more. “Doesn’t being here obliterate the biases? We were all of us invited, after all,” Olivia states in response to her classmate, though she doesn’t realise that she knows the female voice speaking. She pays little attention to those inching about, as if trying to get out, more interested in hearing what everyone has to say and how the gathering will form.

Clementine Duncan turns to Olivia, “Not entirely.” She motions to the hooded figure who is obviously the leader of this outfit to them at least, “But there are other biases, then that…” Her voice implies that she’s almost hurt that anyone disagreed with her, “You and I could hate eachother, you know, and right now we have no idea.”

Lyre King speaks up against Olivia’s statement. “Some people are unable to rise above their faults. These people will find something to pick at in their fellows, regardless of what honors have been placed on them. I say anonymity is key. Not knowing who could counter you also makes the misuse of whatever we learn here.. Dangerous.”

Clavicle says, “Hoka-Hey. Laughing Coyote sees truth in Anonymity.”"

“They should learn to overcome that,” Briony retorts, shaking her head. “But can’t we still have secret names? It would be so brilliant. And if we’re going to go on adventures with one another, I would certainly want to know who with so we can talk about it later,” she giggles a bit, then stifles herself. “Well, in private, of course. When you’re sure nobody else can discover the conversation. After all, secrecy.”

Clementine Duncan claps, hissing excitedly, “Oh! Oh, I do want a secret name. And a mask!”

Keelan Walsh waves a hand, “She won’t bother us, I’m sure.” Either by request or distraction, Keelan certainly had to the foresight to secure the area, “Even if she did, I am here. I’m sure you have all realized by now that I am a Professor?” A soft smirk, and then a softer sigh, “If anyone cares to leave, they should do so. Should you wish to return to us at a later date, you need just arrive.” Keelan waits, then, before continuing, “For now, as some of you seem concerned, let us don masks. A bit of a spell ought to do the trick–hmm, though it may be tricky for some of you. Think of something… interesting, and if you can’t make a mask, have someone help. You can all trust each other enough to help with this?” Her wand is flourished and the spell, “Cero personatus!” said. For Keelan, it is a crude wooden thing in the vague shape of a tiger, black paint striping across it. The mask materializes in the air in front of her and she has to catch it before it falls. Putting it on carefully so as to not disturb her hood, she still has to tie it on over the hood. This looks a touch silly, but oh well.

Clavicle Gravely pulls out his wand. And he attempts the spell. But not being an expert yet, His crude wooden thing looks like half spider, half coyote, half raven, and an odd resemblance to Astra Rathe in the chin. Now how did that happen. “Err.. Laughing Coyote…says Oops.”

Marie-Anna Greyton nods a little bit before pulling her wand out from her cloak. The same words used by Keelan are used by her as well, resulting in her own crude wooden mask. This mask is rather simple, in manner, simply that of a lioness.

Rhian Brecon nods as she listens to this and she casts herself a mask on her face. It’s an elegant thing, one that she wore years ago to a Holloween festival that was designed by her boyfriend when they first met. It displays a lioness’s face, but with appropriate eyeholes and doesn’t have a lower job so they could see Rhian‘s jaw move as she speaks. With the mask, she lowers her hood, glad to get that off her head.

“Cero personatus,” Olivia chants with her wand in hand, and a bland, rounded mask appears in her hand, with no eyeholes. “Hmm. That can’t be quite right. What did I do wrong?” she whispers to Evan, releasing her hand from his to examine the mask more closely. “Can we do it again if it doesn’t work quite right?” Olivia asks, disgust becoming more apparent with her failed first attempt at the mask. Charms are not her forte.

Clementine Duncan pulls out her wand, motioing with it but stopping short of attempting the spell. She hesitates before actually going through with it, “Cero personatus.” She squeaks, summoning up a puff of thin yellow feathers that fall right through her fingers, which were expecting a mask to fall into them. A bird mask, preferably. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at things like this…” She admits sheepishly, gulping, “Could someone maybe just make one for me?”

Evan Geroff slips his wand out of his pocket, pausing before raising what would usually be his off hand. Just as if in class, he practices the motion he saw Keelan use once, and the second time through repeats the spell. The mask he catches doesn’t quite resemble any animal in particular. It has ears that stick up, large round eyes, some sort of tuft over the chin, possibly a whisker or two unless those are just freckles, and the color in spots varies from yellow to orange to dark brown and green. “Hmm.” He looks at it for a moment, then over to Olivia. “I’ll be re-doing mine when this is over tonight. But you might want to see still. Don’t worry about the look for now, just concentrate on the eyes…?” It’s a possibility, anyway. And they can sit around together redoing both until they look right. Fun, neh? Olivia having released his hand does allow him to tie his mask on as he whispers to her, which he does.

With a flip of his wand, Landon breathes the spell out almost without speaking at all. IN his hand appears a simple, black mask. Rounded on top, but it covers the nose and cheek bones. Only the chin, mouth, and lower jaw are visible. Landon then proceeds to reach up his hood and fix the mask over his face. Once it is in place he pulls the hood back just enough so he can peer about properly, but not even so much as a blonde hair is visible.

Clavicle Gravely goes to grab the mask…but it scurries off to a corner. “Er… Double oops?”

Hovering behind the student she’s decided to stand behind, the ‘student’ heaves a very soft sigh at not having to speak. Listening quietly, she turns and draws out her wand, casting under her breath as murmurs the words. An additional spell ripples its power within the inner part that would cover her face. Slowly and methodically she works. While not as fast as some of the students, eventually Astra turns around donning her mask. Her chosen form is that of a mongoose.

Lyre King lifts his wand and calls out the spell in a clear voice. “Cero Personatus!” a thin, smooth mask settles in his hand, the barest shape of a face visible, like a half carved statue. In yellow paint, a broad four pointed star is painted on his left eye, while a huge red gash is painted across the mouth area, like an ancient greek comedy mask. Lyre slips the mask easily under his hood, and it hangs there as if by magic.

Keelan Walsh actually laughs slightly, “Yes, you can of course try it again if it is…” here she puts out down a foot to stop Clavicle’s oddly mobile mask. Crunch. “Unsatifactory. Just make sure to tap the old one with your wand to destroy it.” She bends, briefly, to scoop up the mess Clavicle made, and gives it a sharp rap, and it vanishes. “Laughing Coyote, you have a mask already,” she reminds him gently. Surveying the group through her tiger-mask eyes, she says, almost to herself, “We’ll need names.”

Marie-Anna Greyton ponders potential names, looking at the now masked students through the slitted lion eyes. The girl waits for inspiration to strike her as she glances around.

Performing the spell with surprising success — well, it at least resembles a mask shape, eye holes, stopping over the nose, plenty of space for her mouth to move, something very important for Briony. The mask she has conjured is a dark gray, and has whisker-like hairs pointing up all over it and ears rather shaped like a cat’s. Perhaps the mask is a bit heavy on the whiskers and light on any other resemblance for a cat. The odd mask suits Briony just fine, however, and she fixes the mask to her face and stands for a moment, attempting to think of a name for herself.

Clavicle says, “Laughing Coyote’s mask wants a mask too.” he settles back against the wall and grins a touch. The trickster part a role he is adopting far too well.”

Clementine Duncan wrinkles up her nose, trying the spell again deciding that her originaly vision was far too complicated. It’s after her third attempt that she gets her mask. As she slips it over her face, it’s no animal that she slides over her face, but a plant. A long wooden branch stems out for her nose with smaller twigs, knots, and knobs here and there. Clementine is now… a tree. She doesn’t push back her hood all the way, for fear that her wild hair might just really give her away.

Olivia Baxtor taps her first attempts at a mask and it vanishes quickly. She repeats the incantation and this time, the mask more closely resembles an actual mask. It is a half mask in an emerald green color, and this time has eye holes. She smiles a bit and holds it out, “Much better.” It is a decree rather than a statement and she fixes the mask to her face, glancing around as everyone else manages masks. “What name are you going to use?” she asks Evan quietly, being careful not to use his name, lest she give his identity away.

Rhian Brecon thinks to herself and tries to come up with a name. She knows that she is wearing a lioness’s face and so thinks she might use that to start a name. “Stalking Lioness?” she looks to the person next to her to see if that would be an appropriate name.

Clavicle Gravely does a small turn and walks about looking at the different masks. His mask is a rather realistic looking Coyote mask, Bought at a Carnival most likely. “Laughing Coyote is how I am known. ”

Landon thinks. . . He will have to think of something later. Right this very moment, he just stands, looking snazzy in his mask. He’s bad with thinking up things on the spot, and he doesn’t want to have to live with some stupid name because he just up and spit one out without putting any thought into it.

“Preferable to my rainbow colored cat-owl, I’m sure.” Evan smiles at Olivia, then glances down for a moment in thought. “I don’t know; something to do with a sphinx, perhaps. Do you have a name in mind?”

Clavicle says, “Think thank thunk, A coyote in a trunk, he runs around, adventure bound, until his tail is sunk.”"

“I think I’ll be … Fitzcordia,” the girl announces, rather proud at thinking of such a name. Briony beams as others finish their masks and fix them to their faces. “I wonder if we’ll be able to go on any adventures tonight. What happens if we’re late for curfew?” She doesn’t sound overly concerned as she voices these statements, but rather admires the few masks she is able to see. The girl is forced to push back her hood just a bit, to allow the whiskers on her mask to protrude up as they are wont to do.

“I haven’t thought of one yet,” Olivia responds, looking over Evan’s mask curiously and thinking of what names she could pick. “Maybe… maybe I could use…” Her voice trails off and she puts a finger to her chin thoughtfully. “How does Nanaea sound? I think I read it in a History book sometime. It’s kind of pretty, don’t you think?” The girl looks to her friend, pondering on her name suggestion and then voicing another. “No, Persephone. That’s very regal.” She gives a closed-mouth smile, having more or less decided on this name.

Sifting through her memory, Astra latches upon a name from her childhood. Speaking through her mask, her voice is warped and fractured, but still clearly understandable. Either the spell that created her mask is broken in some way or she’s added something to it to do precisely this, hide her voice as well as her face. “Rawhead and Bloody Bones,” scouring the legends and nightmares of childish boogeymen, “Rawhead am I.”

Clavicle Gravely ‘s attention suddenly turns at the Bloody Bones reference. His hand rubs at the snout a bit thoughtfully. A cousin here? Impossible.

Clementine Duncan looks to Rhian, nodding to the other girl’s choice of codename, “I can’t think of anything good…” She peers around through the eye-holes of her mask at the others, “I suppose… Hmm.” She turns back to the other girl, “I’m the Wand Tree.” She giggles a little.

Keelan Walsh ponders for a long moment, seemingly oblivous to the relative chaos as people chose masks and names. “Alright! Does everyone have a mask on, then?” Waiting for the murmur of assent, she presents a simple spell-”Lumos!” However, this seems to be the key to getting a proper amount of lighting, as the light flickers from the end of her wand to an overhead setting of the moon. Odd, that’s not a normal feature of this room. Still, suddenly the shadowy students take a more solid form, and masks are thrown into compartively bright moonlight. “I do believe it’s time to introduce ourselves. I am known as Bengale.” No kidding.

Evan Geroff nods once to her decision. “Persephone. I like it.” He stops, back to his own thoughts, whispering to her off and on as he goes. “I just don’t know what to place with ‘Sphinx..’” “Towering, Mighty.. Orange.. Turquiose?..” His whispering trails off as Keelan draws the group together again, with a final murmur to Olivia, “Perhaps that will be good enough.” He’ll wait to actually introduce himself, give him another minute at least to be sure.

Rhian Brecon nods as she finally sees everyone in full light as much as she can at least witht he masks. Her’s is starting to get annoying, but she’ll live with it. “I am Stalking Lioness, or Lioness for short…” She looks around when it comes to her turn to introducing herself.

Keelan Walsh adds, “If we’re late for curfew, I expect you’ll do your best to avoid detection,” with a smirk.

“What about just Turquoise?” the girl suggests quickly before Keelan speaks. She watches with interest, and before very long, it’s her own turn. “I’m Persephone,” she states rather quietly, then glances around at others as they begin to share their names. Almost as if it’s a reaction, she reaches towards Evan’s hand, still slightly nervous as she hears someone’s voice, which has clearly been altered, and which sounds rather frightening. Or perhaps it is just that Olivia is easily frightened.

Clavicle says, “And that would be a secret passage?” he asks. As he tilts his head out, and aer pokes out to listen toward the woman. “Is that something we see tonight?”

Lyre King thinks quietly for a moment, pondering the image presented by his mask. “I suppose… The Harlequin Jack will do. I am Jack Harlequin.” His mask has an eerie, puppetlike smile, and strangely fits this title.

Landon decides that he doesn’t want just eh plain black mask so he taps the side of it and the sides instantly flair out, becoming leaf-like, and the mask turns a vibrant shade of leaf-green. His forehead, nose, and the upper part of his cheeks are covered, but his mouth is free for speaking. The bright green tones of the mask seem to be reflected in Landon‘s pale skin, though because his chin, lower cheeks, and jaw pick it up, disguising his skin tone. A slight smile graces his features. A slightly mischievous one, too. It is gone as quickly as it appeared, though. He has decided on the name Puck! After the adventurous forest spirit! When it is his turn to speak, he does for the first time, but he doesn’t say much. He points to himself and says “Puck.”

Now that there is enough light to see by, Astra takes in the sight of the students. She too is dressed in the plain black school robes of a student and a hooded cloak of the same shade. Poking out from under the hood, her mongoose mask is quite visible and she turns her head to look over those assembled. “I am Rawhead.” As before, her voice is warped by magic but the words are unmistakable.

Clementine Duncan toys with the rims of her hood, as if torn still on whether or not to remove it. “I’m the Wand Tree.” She introduces herself with a light curtsey. She crosses her arms once more, keeping her hood up over her massive hair.

Marie-Anna Greyton is of the same thought as Landon is about her mask. Before the light comes out she quietly disperses of her current mask before repeating the motion to create a new mask, which turns out to be similar in appearance to that of a mermaid, with feathers for hair floating in water. “I am Aquarius,” she introduces, hood still slightly pulled over her head, covering her hair.

Evan Geroff hesitates, taking one last second to think before announcing his name after Olivia does hers. “I’m Turquiose the Sphinx,” he states, not quite willing to give that up and just be a color, “but will response simply to Turquoise.” And he’s prepared for everyone to just forget the Sphinx part. It’s for his own benefit only. As Olivia reaches he slips his hand back around hers, offering another quick squeeze simply to say “hello again” as any smile at her would be effectively hidden by his rainbow cat-owl mask. He will have to redo it.

“Call me Fitzcordia, please,” Briony announces with a giggle and then stifles herself with a cough, attempting to appear serious as many of the others are. She watches with interest as the others announce their chosen ‘code names’. Briony is having a very difficult time disguising her sheer excitement at the whole thing. Secret names, masks and adventures? It pretty much has made the Gryffindor’s year.

Kelly Pantall seems to be quietly dwelling near the fringes of the group, expression hidden behind her generic mask – her emotions, however, are clearly expressed by her abrupt movements, turning often to peer over her shoulder with an uncharacteristic edginess. Of course, if they’re endeavoring to be anonymous, being uncharacteristic is probably a good start. When she speaks, however, it is with a loud and clear tone. “…I’m Marie Jeanette.” Something seems to be nagging at her for a moment, and she can’t help but offer further explanation. “You know, like that Ripper victim. She was the most interesting.” Because talking about Jack the Ripper is really anonymous. Yay, she wins.

Bengale nods as each of the masked figures speaks, a smile just barely visible through the mouth of her mask. “Tonight we shall not discover any secret passage ways… first I need to know that I can trust you, one and all. In my past,” she gestures with her hands, “a grand secret was lost forever because formarly trustworthy persons let it out to too many people…” It almost seems as if the mask itself grimaces. “A secret is no longer a secret if the world finds out.” She shakes her head, suddenly grim again.

Marie Jeanette widens her eyes noticeably behind the thin slits offered by her generic pale mask before looking down at the ground, slipping back even further, trying to avoid notice. She gently nudges whoever happens to be closest to her, leaning across and whispering quietly, “So, that means we can tell a couple of people, right? I mean, what if someone asks? It doesn’t count as me telling if someone asks, right?”

Aquarius happens to be not too far from Marie Jeanette. “No,” she hisses. “You tell no one, even if someone asks. Not even if you suspect them to be a member,” is stated before she turns to Bengale and nods a little, listening again.

“Should we take an oath?” the girl suggests, looking around with slowly adjusting eyes at all the masks. She has ideas that she might recognize a few of the people present, but lest she break secrecy, she doesn’t mention anything, standing close to Evan, and trying to stay away from the person with the rather sounding voice. “Maybe one of those promises that you can’t break?” Persephone looks to the person in charge, Bengale, hopefully.

Bengale raises her eyebrows behind her mask, “Aquarius is right, Marie, the S.E.A,” Bengale is not about to be saying ‘sea’ all of the time as though they were marine oriented, “is a secret society. If inquiries are made by anyone–even Professors– make up a story about a knitting club, Gobstones club, study group… something everyday.” She looks at Persephone, “Ah… an unbreakable vow is a bit steep–” not to mention rather over Keelan’s head, “However, an oath?” She looks around, and this time her mask does change expression. Can a tiger look inquisitive? It certainly tries, “What does everyone think?” She’s trying very hard not to be in charge.

“Not an Unbreakable Vow!” Marie Jeanette shrieks, eyes widening even further, jumping back from Persephone in whichever direction she can. “What happens if you try real hard to keep it a secret, but you just can’t, and you die? That would be horrible. I don’t want to die.” Her eyes seek out someone who will comfort her, assure her that she’s not going to die, though her panic is considerable and she doesn’t look like she can easily be reassured. “Well… well, I just don’t want to die. That would be awful. And what if it’s someone real important that asks you, not important like a Professor, important like…” she appears to be trying to think of anyone in Hogwarts more important than a professor. “You know, someone real, real important?”

Aquarius eyes Marie, again. “It’s a secret, Marie. Secrets don’t get told, particullarly one of such importance as this,” she notes. “A group is only as strong as it’s weakest link, will you be that link?” she enquires in a challenging voice. Indeed, will Marie Jeanette be the weakest link? No matter the answer to that question her attention is turned to Bengale, again. “I think an oath is a good idea.”

Biting her tongue over what she’s thinking about an oath, Rawhead mulls the situation over until there is the yell from Marie Jeanette. “Oh don’t be silly,” the so-called student speaks. Gathering up her own words, what she really is doing is trying to recall how she spoke as a younger student, “No one is going to make us recite an Unbreakable Vow in a group like this. We aren’t a bunch of dark wizards.”

For the first time all night, Turquoise actually is a bit hesitant. He promised this wouldn’t get them in trouble, coming.. so how strong an oath are they about to take, and what could be the future consequences? He hadn’t even known anything about the group before tonight. “An oath certainly ought to keep it secret,” he replies to Keelan. It is being led by a professor after all – she’d know what was OK. “If what we do is of that importance, then yes.”

“An oath is perfectly fine by me,” spoke the one with the fox mask. Leon Fox peered through the narrow slits in his mask, gazing at the rest of the gathering. “And we can always use…what’re they called? Those memory charms to make those we suspect of being too weak…simply forget about the S.E.A. Couldn’t we?”

Although someone calmed by the words, Marie Jeanette seems to still be rather suspicious. “If I was a Dark Wizard, I’d tell people I wasn’t too.” The logic seems perfectly evident to her, even if no one else can comprehend it, and she folds her arms across her chest grumpily. “Okay, I’ll try to keep it secret, but if someone real, real, REAL important asks me about it, I might accidentally tell. But only if they’re real, real, REAL important. Like, more important than a professor. More important than the Head Boy, even.”

Clavicle says, “I suspect a charm could be made to hex an oathbreaker with a terrible case of the Bat Bogey Hex.” He loves that hex. “I can devise an alteration, if you trust me to try?”"

“I don’t know that I’d like to take one of those anyway. You never know what’s going to happen,” Fitzcordia responds to the suggestion of the unbreakable vow. “Maybe just a really stern promise will do the job.” She hopes so, anyway, and looks around as eveyrone puts in their choices. “I, for one, am willing to keep it entirely secret.” She nods decisively, her whiskers swaying as she does so.

Aquarius nods a little bit. “I’m with Fitz,” she states. “I’ll take whatever oath is asked of me, and I’ll keep it a secret, in it’s entirety…” her tone is low as she speaks, but all the same, she says it.

Bengale snorts, rather tigerishly, “There will be no obliviating of S.E.A members who wish to discontinue their enrollment in the society.” Her head shakes, “No, a spoken oath at the most. Should it be broken… oh for goodness sake.” The woman is getting a bit irritated, and it’s obvious, “When I say that a secret is to remain a secret I am not suggesting hexing, cursing, charming, or otherwise harming someone who can’t keep it. I merely wished to impress upon all of you the importance of not blabbing around the school the location of any secret passage ways or rooms. Lest you wish to suddenly find our adventures turned into necking rooms.” Another shake of her head, “That’s not the spirit at all. Your word is all I require. I’m sure that simply revoking the right to join in our adventures and restricting access to former secrets would suffice.” Goodness.

“We’ll just have to promise really hard to keep it secret.” The girl nods as she looks from person to person, many of whom seem to be voicing the same opinion. “I hope everyone wants to have the same fun. It wouldn’t be as fun if someone told the secret,” she comments, looking up at Evan with a grin. “You’ll have to make sure I keep the secret, E– Turquoise,” she tells him giving his hand a ginger squeeze again. Persephone smiles closed-mouthed at everyone.

Marie Jeanette seems positively mortified at the idea that telling would turn the secret passages into necking rooms, and she puts her hands on her hips and stands up all the straighter as evidence of how affronted she is. “I wouldn’t tell anyone who would do something GROSS in there.” The pitch of her voice as well as the volume is raised considerably at this point. “I said I’d only tell someone REAL, REAL, REAL important. More important than, than the Head Boy.” And the unspoken point here is that there are so few people more important than the Head Boy of a school that it is pretty much impossible that any of them would be asking Marie about the secret places. “And none of them would tell. Or… or do yicky things.”

Turquoise nods slightly at Bengale. It sounds much less worrisome the way she describes it than with all the students jumping to ‘we’ll kill you if you tell’ level conclusions. And the way she described it works for him. “I don’t mind giving my word, I have no intention of telling.” Turning, he grins back at Olivia, and perhaps part of the movement could even be seen through the mouth-hole. “Of course. We’ll watch each other, Persephone.”

Rocking up on her toes again, Rawhead sighs greatly and then drop back onto her heels. “I’m quite happy just giving my word not to purposely reveal the secret. I don’t want to have to worry about hexes and spells and charms.” Smiling behind her mask, she again looks around to those assembled before adding a nod to Bengale.

Clavicle says, “Upon my word I swear this secret shall be safe with me.” he states with a formal bow. ”

Bengale smiles again, and relaxes visibily. “I, too, give my solemn vow,” she can’t help but make it sound flashier that it is, “to hold the secret of S.E.A’s adventures and discoveries in my heart of hearts and not to tell a soul outside the confines of our meetings.” She puts her hand up to her chest and nods her head, but seems content to let everyone make the promise in their own way.

“I’ll keep the secret, I promise,” Persephone ventures, looking as many people seem to be volunteering their word in their own ways. “If we happen to know of someone here, can we chat with them about it at all outside?” she asks, just to make sure how far she must go to keep this secret concealed.

Aquarius speaks up now. “I swear to hold the secret of the S.E.A close and let no one know of our adventures,” she notes in a voice clear enough to be heard by all. With that she looks around at the rest of the gathered masks.

Clavicle says, “I ask for one Caveat to this oath….”

Fitzcordia nods, popping her right hand up and waving it a bit. “The secret is safe with me!” She looks around, crossing her arms and smiles brilliantly at those around her. “I can’t wait to begin adventuring, can you?” she comments to the person to her left, a quiet giggle escaping from her lips as the second year can hardly stand still.

Clavicle says, “In the event our adventures lead to something dangerous, or a life is in danger, I ask permission to bring the appropriate professor in for assistance.”"

Bengale blinks, but sounds slightly amused, “Is that so, Laughing Coyote? After you have made it, you look for a way out?” As he explains, she frowns, “You think I would allow such a situation to arise? You think I would not be able to handle it?” Actually, she sounds rather offended and angry.

“I vow not to share any of the secrets of the S.E.A., or tell a soul of our adventures. Unless they’re real, real, REAL important. The soul, not the secrets. And, you know, if they ask me. I won’t just randomly tell people. Well, not on purpose.” Guess who. Marie Jeanette looks around, seeking approval from someone, spying someone who has a prefectly or professorly vibe to approve of her vow.

Leon ,who from his last speaking had since gone quiet, speaks up again. “I vow to keep the secret of the S.E.A.” The boy then proceeds to visibly bite his tongue and fade back into the group of people–though he did pass a glance towards Clavicle just prior to his receeding.

Turquoise bows slightly as he begins his own vow of secrecy. “I solemnly promise not to break the secret of..” hearing Clavicle, he pauses in the middle with an attempted reassurance. “It isn’t that you are doubted, by anyone, I’m sure. It’s just.. isn’t it better to have it in there, knowing it won’t ever be needed, just for safety?”

Clavicle says, “Adventure sometimes leads to the unexpected My dear Bengale. Especially in the forest. ”

Startled into surprise, Rawhead doesn’t say anything more until Bengale speaks. “I think we’re going to be okay. Adventure is fun, but I don’t think that we’d do anything stupidly dangerous.” Tapping her foot nervously, she looks over her shoulder to look out for anyone who might be coming. “I think Bengale will take measures to make sure we’re okay. Why else have the club?” The mongoose-masked person tries to express her support with her tone alone, not having facial expressions to fall back on.

Bengale is beyond cross, “I am a Professor and I damn well know that adventure leads to the unexpected. Especially in the forest. I listened to a girl’s dying screams in that forest, boy.” The sneer on her face is audible in her tone, “Do not lecture me, any of you, on that prospect. Should it come to the matter of safety, I am sure we are all able to tell the difference between keeping an adventure and saving a life.” She’s a bit venemous, fists clenched. Rather a harsh reaction to a twelve year old’s innocent query.

Persephone gasps, clenching Evan’s hand rather hard as she watches Bengale lays into Coyote boy a bit, looking up at Turquoise in shock. Now she is nearly certain she knows who it is, though she wouldn’t dare to state out loud just who. Secrecy, after all. “Oh, my, I imagine it’s a bad idea to get her angry. I can’t imagine why he chose to speak to a professor that way!” Persephone whispers to Evan, unable to conceal the shock on her face, though part of it is hidden by the mask.

Quivering from head to toe, Rawhead stands there and listens to Bengale’s lecturing words. Struggling at hearing what the woman has seen, she stands there helplessly and decides the better course of action is to keep silent. Shivering under her plain woolen cloak she pulls it tightly around herself.

Clavicle Gravely shrugs and just shuts up.

Leon winces outwardly, his head turning quickly to pass a constricted gaze around the group again before he snuck around people, worming his way behind the people closest Bengale–the tiger mask suited her greatly. Vicious. Ultimately, the boy wound up behind Rawhead, peering out just over her shoulder.

Turquoise takes a careful step back, his hand tightening also, regretting having spoken up in his attempt to smoothe things over. “Does seem that way,” he whispers to Olivia, looking first at her and then back down the hall, away from the group, in the direction the two had originally walked in from. His expression, of course, is completely unreadable due to the mask. “But I..” he pauses, to make sure his voice will NOT carry anywhere beyond his companion, “I think.. especially seeing this.. he may be right. Even though we don’t expect anything to happen here. We’re not a tiny group.. harder to keep track of perhaps.. and I’ve heard stories..” He shrugs, pausing, not daring to say anything louder and mostly just curious as to Olivia’s reaction. Will she she his point, or has he begun to take this far too seriously?

What an anticlimactic end to what could have been an interesting show. Student versus Professor. Fitzcordia had never seen anything like that before, but finding that the confrontation is now over, she returns to the idea of why she is here to begin with — adventures! “So, will we be able to go on an adventure tonight? Or do we have to wait until we get — er, well — the sign?”

Bengale just breathes for a moment, struggling to regain her composure. It isn’t often that she explodes as such, and much more rarely that she does so in the sight of people she does not know very well. So it’s a long moment in which her breathing slows and she shuts her eyes. When she speaks again, her voice is thin, “Suffice to say that I am prepared.” Her expression, what little of it is visible, is closed. “And that before any of us were to take a journey in which there would be a slightest chance of such danger, we would also be prepated. I am not stupid,” her voice is even, hollow, and she addressed the assembled students, “I know some of you are young yet. I assure you I will not be placing you in harms way just for the sake of adventure. If you are to be members, you must trust me to know what I am doing.” A small pause, “I don’t know, Fitzcordia, whether you are ready for adventure tonight.” Or, her tone suggests, whether she is currently up to it.

“What have you heard?” Persephone asks, her voice raising a bit as she leans away from him a small bit, trying to get a good look at his face. “We’ll be alright, of course, with the teacher there.” She says this almost as if to calm herself down, though her grip on his hand could hardly get much harder, signifying that she doesn’t entirely feel at ease. Hasn’t she been told to lighten up a bit, though? Persephone is trying, at the very least.

“Oh, alright,” Fitzcordia answers, the disappointment in her voice very apparent, but she says nothing to question the decision otherwise. After all, Fitzcordia had seen what Bengale was capable of, and she certainly did not want to be subjected to it. “I’m so excited to see what our first adventure will be,” she mentions to the person on her right, though none of the people around her seem very interested in responding to her comments, however excited she may be.

Turquoise shakes his head faintly – that, at least, can be seen, more than just his eyes and part of his mouth. He looks straight at Olivia, so she can see at least that much of his face, though at the same time raising a finger to his lips. “Things happen, that’s all..” he whispers back. “Nothing I’ve seen.. nothing about the professor. Of course she does know what she’s doing. It was just such a harmless request, no reason not to grant it once it had been asked, common sense says we’d better be doing it either way.” He turns his masked face away for just a moment, looking back down the hall one more time, and shrugs. It wasn’t so important yet that he wants to turn and leave, certainly not after getting Olivia here. So he simply turns back and tightens his fingers around her hand quickly. “If I ever think there’s real danger, I’ll let you know, and I’ll take care of you. Until then, let’s enjoy it.”

“Every teacher here is quite capable, otherwise they wouldn’t be teaching here at all!” Rawhead speaks more to herself and her immediate companions, that being Leon Fox and she gives a little shrug. “Don’t worry,” she speaks to Leon, “We’re going to be okay. No one is in any danger and I doubt that we will be. The teachers are here to take care of us, not kill us.”

Clavicle Gravely moves back against the wall and lets the hood come over him again. He doesn’t exactly know what he said this time, but apparently it was bad enough to scare him something fierce. “I apologize.” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to offend or imply any inability on your part. More, I was merely… making an admission that sometimes we don’t know. Something I am sure you are aware, founding this club as you are. Rather, i was attempting to assure you, that pride and hubris would not stay my tongue should others need to be made informed for the safety of the founder and the memebers in the event of an unforseen emergency. Last semester…I witnessed the effects of such an act. It endangered friends of mine. I will follow your lead…of course.” he tries to find a shadowed recess, to slink back into.

“I’m not worried about the adventures at all. I’m gonna be asking Professor Rathe about extra Defense tutoring–so I can get ahead in her class. I plan to do well.” Leon pauses in his whispering, finally moving from babble to his point, “I’m just… …afraid the tiger’ll act like a real one and start biting people’s faces off.” The fox-masked boy dipped more behind his ‘shield’ for a moment, his feet tired of keeping his heels elevated.

Lifting a hand to the mouth of her mask, Rawhead suppresses a laugh as Leon Fox speaks to her. “Oh I doubt that Bengale will do that. She just wants us all to know that she can take care of us and that we won’t get into anything too sticky.” “It seems like it will be a grand time, don’t you think?”

“Well, alright,” Persephone concedes and smiles a bit at Evan and looks up. What time is it? Likely later than curfew, but Persephone finds it hard to be worried with a Professor present. After all, couldn’t she get a hall pass if she truly needed one? The girl says nothing, rather hesitant to ask for such a thing when she’s supposed to be adventurous and let her curiosity be her guide rather than rules.

Bengale sets her shoulders back, suddenly resolute to be cheerful (which is a horrible condition for Keelan). The Professor says in a rather falsely steady voice(but it does the trick), “You know, I have just remembered a semi-secret. Some of you may know.” A forced smile and the mask looks rather.. grimacey still. “However, with our merry attire.” Later, it will occur to Keelan that she has never before said anything remotely as stupid as ‘merry attire’, but for now she just doesn’t want all her precious S.E.A kids to think she’s a monster. “and our new names, we should cavort,” another unKeelanish word, but she’s had her fair share of silly stories where the characters talk as such, “through the halls and down to the cellars where a painting awaits our fair touch.” Gag. A pause, and then, “Besides, being Bengale is hungry work. Follow me, oh secrety society members. And recall the vanishing stair on the third staircase to the left because I’d hate to have to rescue you so soon.” She starts off without much look back.

His broom slung across his shoulders, his arms raised so that his wrists dangle off the length of the Windwalker’s shaft, Riley yawns wearily as he strolls out on to the pitch. The dark circles under his eyes are slightly more defined than they had been recently, and he seems a bit pale. His long, brown-red hair hangs loose in front his features, and his beader bat swings lazily from a leather strap on his left wrist.

Yawning after a long day of classes, David walks to the pitch, wondering what the team captain has in store for today’s practice. Fortunately, the weather is not as dismal as it could be in that period of the year, even if it is a bit colder than what David would have liked. Gripping his Moontrimer tightly, the boy smiles as he reaches the spot of the pitch where the other players are already standing, waiting for the practice to start.

Jogging up to the pitch, auburn ponytail bouncing merrily behind her, Kara heads straight toward the shed where the school brooms are kept. Again some time is spent looking for her favorite broom, the first year beams when she finds it, jogging back toward where the others are circling up. Idly inspecting her broom as she waits to hear what she needs to do for practice.

Noémie Ribouet strides onto the pitch, her broom in hand, and rather than just her usual show of carrying the box of Quidditch balls with her, she also has a bucket, filled with rather small white balls. “Hello, everyone,” the captain calls cheerfully, setting down her equipment onto the pitch. “Everyone up and take a lap or two for a warm up!” She kneels down, opening up the box and taking out the quaffles only; she leaves the bludgers and snitch in the box, then takes to her own broom to get the feel of it and warm up a bit.

David greets the team captain with another smile, and happily complies with her order. Last year, a practice session would have begun by a few laps running around the pitch; flying the laps would be *much* less tiresome. David puts his broom on the ground, orders “Up!”, and is soon in the air flying happily around the pitch.

Kara Raine nods toward the captain, offering her a grin and a cheerful ‘Hello’. Listening intently, Kara nods before quickly arranging herself on the school broom, up and away just a few moments behind David. Giggling, the first year leans forward, her broom picking up speed as she zooms around the pitch.

Clavicle Gravely comes in carrying the Sandsweeper 25. He grins and mounts the broom. “Up!” and rises. He begins to comply with the quidditch captains order too! He grins and nods to the Captain as he does so.

Riley Markham tosses his broom to the ground, though it doesn’t seem to require a command to make it pause in midair. Shaft shane with the ground, about waist level to Riley, the second year grabs his broom and kicks up. Flying was easy, flying he could do.

Coming running at a sprint onto the pitch, Bailey stops by the captain to catch his breath. “Sorry, got held up in potions. What’s up first? Laps?” Eyes glancing upwards toward where the others are circling, he doesn’t even wait for Noémie’s reply, instead hops straight on his broom and soars upward, joining in the formation.

As she finishes several laps of her own, Noémie stops down on the ground and beckons for everyone to join her, waiting until the whole team is on the ground with her. “Alright, everyone. I’d like you chasers to head up in the air and play against each other, trying to score more goals. Van, of course, will be trying to block shots. You have to go halfway back to the pitch and back again if you intercept the ball, to make it more realistic. Beaters, I’m releasing one bludger in a moment, and you’ll each try to nail one team of chasers. Please do try to avoid me. Now, Kara, thanks for coming to this practice. What I’d like you to do is throw these golf balls up in the air. I’ve charmed them so that they won’t go too far, in case you end up missing somehow.” The fifth year smiles at the first year. “I would like you to lob them up in the air in random areas, and I’ll try to catch them. It will be good practice for us both, me for my seeking, you for your arm. Riley, take care that you aim, then hit; we don’t want anyone to get injured today.” With that, she claps her hands. “Alright, everyone back up into the air, save for Kara. Here’s your bucket of balls. Just signal to me somehow when it’s empty.”

Van Douglass comes charging up behind Bailey, equally out of breath, cheeks slightly flushed and make-up a bit mussed, though unlike Bailey she doesn’t think to actually provide an adiquette excuse. With a somewhat sheepish look, she flashes Noémie a slightly embaressed smile and leaps on to her broom to perform the laps. Once further instructions are given, she nods and moves to take her natural place at the hoops, competative spirit returning some of her flustered focus.

David nods to the captain, then walks towards the Quidditch box and takes out the Quaffle, before mounting on his broom and flying in the air once again. “Okay… let’s begin, then!” he says, looking briefly at the Beaters before tossing the Quaffle to Clavicle, and flying towards him to take it back, as if he were a player from the opposing team.

Kara Raine circles back down to land, a huge grin upon her features. She listens intently as Noémie explains what is going on, offering the older girl a smile. “Not a problem, glad I can help.” Eyes dart over toward the bucket, before back toward the captain. “Understood.” The first year girl takes the bucket with a grin, holding it in her left arm so that she can toss the balls up with her right. She waits until Noémie is ready and then tosses the first ball up, as soon as it is gone, she darts to another section of the pitch, tossing up another, keeping to a quite random pattern.

Clavicle Gravely comes zooming in. The Sandsweeper is a pretty quick little broom, as oddly shaped as it is. He nods as he listens. He grins as he looks for the quaffle. He slides upwards and into the air and adjusts his gloves. As practice really starts, he does a quick turn and a dip to catch David. And then he’s off like a cannon shot. At first Clavicle is testing the Sandsweeper25′s speed against David’s broom.

Bailey Williams sweeping back down, he waits a few feet off the ground, listening intently to the instructions. Bailey grins as he notices that Clavicle has the quaffle, and in a blink he is off, joining forces with the second year against David. Swinging past the Sandsweeper, Bailey yells out. “I’m with you, and then I’ll switch and play with him.” Two on one, got to love them odds.

Riley Markham cringes as he’s singled out, though he doesn’t soubt it’s warrented. Swinging his bat in to his hand, he pulls back in to the air with a small sigh. All his practicing after class and with the junior team had started to pay off, though he still had a long way to go. “Don’t get nervous, it’s just a bludger.. Just a bludger..” As usual, his flying is somewhat reckless but brilliant. Fast, smooth, and careless. It seems somewhat less so now, however, as he scans the sky for the bludger.. picking it out as it zooms toward Clavicle. Leaning foward, he grits his teeth and zooms toward it, streaking just over David’s head to put himself in to position — pulling up and out, performing a barrel roll, overhanded turn that would seem to keep him on his broom only by grace of centrifugal force, he brings his bat instinctively at the bludger targeting Clavicle.. meaning to aim it at David, but sending it instead blazing toward Bailey.

“Watch it, Riley!” shouts David, as he feels the wind of the air displacement provoked by the second year as he flies by. David looks warily at the Bludger, fearing for a moment that he might need to pull an evasive maneuvre, but apparently the Bludger isn’t for him. Looking back at Clavicle, David realises that he wasn’t as fast as him, and would have to resort to tricks to get him. Deciding to make good use of his broom’s superior behaviour in higher altitude, David pretends to aborts his pursuit and climbs, deciding to take a shortcut and fly directly towards the goal post, hoping to go down towards Clavicle, with a higher speed, when Clavicle would be ready to shoot.

Clavicle Gravely is running a bit of a guantlet to try to avoid capture. He sees Riley’s bludger hit and cries, “Good one Markham! Thanks!” he grins and blinks…not seeing he is being pursued. And in this excersize, there isn’t a ‘wingman’ to toss off to so he leans forward, pouring on the speed. David and he will meet right at the goalpost.

Van Douglass floats in front of the posts, watching both Clavicle and David with ready eyes. Her reason for being late forgotten (even if her cheeks are still somewhat flushed), she is focused entirely on the game now. Waiting.. Waiting was half of her position.

Seeing Kara start tossing the balls, Noémie dives for a couple, narrowly missing taking on in the head while she nabs another, and one falls to the ground. “Make sure you’re spacing them out a bit!” she calls to Kara and tosses the one down that she’s caught, turning quickly to fly up for one that has just flown far, far above her head. She manages to catch it, but missing how many for it? She tosses that one down near where the other one she had caught landed, and watches the first year’s technique as she throws the ball. Yes, the girl would make an excellent chaser with some practice.

At the shout, Kara glances up distracted. Eyes narrow as she focuses on the bludger for a few moments, before shaking herself silently. “Don’t watch them toss the balls up for Noémie.” The captain and seeker is nodded at, as the first year retreives the ‘caught’ ball, and moves off again, taking care to space out her throws and practice just ‘how’ she tosses them up into the air.

His instincts sharpened after playing on the past house team, Bailey easily dodges the bludger, diving down and twisting to the right before turning back to rejoin Clavicle. As the other boy seems to be doing well on his own, he gives David a yell, “I’m switching sides, joining you now. Lets go get ‘em!” One finger pointing toward Clavicle.

Having now reached the highest part of his intended trajectory, David pushes his broom forward into a dive, heading directly towards Clavicle, and getting ready to intercept the Quaffle should he throw it towards the Keeper, or otherwise try to snatch it from his grip. A frontal pass… David would have to be quick, there would be no second chances if he failed to grab the Quaffle.

Riley Markham cringes again, as the bludger goes sailing off the wrong direction. “Damn it!” He hisses, under his breath, before shooting David a slightly annoyed look, almost as if it were his fault that the bludger had somehow magically darted off the other way instead of attacking the third year as he had planned. Besides which, David’s shout before didn’t set well with him. Saying something unkind about third years and bludgers that gets lost in the wind (which is probally for the best, as he would feel terribly guilty later had anyone actually heard it), Riley darts upward once more. Leaning forward on his broom, it streaks like lightning. He really was quite the savvy flier, brilliant, even. It seemed to accent his reckless nature. But pulling about and clubbing the bludger again, trying to send it toward Clavicle and instead simply sending it toward the ground, his aim seemed to be hardly improving. Sweating now, he frowns deeply. He was getting nervous. He had no reason to be getting nervous. And he knew it was throwing his game.

Clavicle Gravely hurls the quaffles right as a blue flash goes by, knocking it away. “What the blazes?” David made the block! Clavicle hmmfs and dives after the boy, trying to catch him. “Bother!”

Van Douglass shifts her gaze toward David, somewhat impressed by the speed and accuracy of his block, though looking no less ready for his attack than Clavicle’s. She was, after all, the only keeper guarding the only set of goals in use. One chaser or another having the quaffle meant the same to her. Drifting somewhat toward the left, perhaps anticipating an attack on that side from David’s angle, she never strays to far from the center hoop.

The second year did indeed send the bludger toward the ground, very close infact to the spot where Kara was preparing to toss Noémie up another ball. At the sound of the incoming bludger, the first year reacts as normal, she dives toward the left landing on the ground with a soft thud, balls spilling out of her bucket and going everywhere. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Kara glances up, mutters a few words no grown wizard, much less a first year should even know, and glances up to wave a fist at Riley. “Go after the ones in the air not on the ground!” Eyes glance over waving toward Noémie and pointing towards the spilled bucket. “Give me a minute to gather them up, before I start tossing them to you again.”

Bailey Williams cheers as David makes the block, tossing a grin over toward Van as he flies near her, “Not bad.” With a little salute to the keeper, the fourth year heads over to keep pace with David and Clavicle.

Having caught the Quaffle, David makes his way towards the centre of the pitch, making a swift 180 turn once he gets there. David then surveys the pitch, trying to assess the situation. The third year suppresses a laugh as his eyes catch the little scene happening on the ground, even if he can’t actually hear what Kara yells from his height. Okay… Clavicle is probably mad now, so David would have to escape him; and Bailey could be dangerous, too. David decides to feint them, flying in a straight line towards the side of the pitch. David‘s clear intention is to use his lesser speed but greater maneuvrability to his advantage when they would be close to him.

“Yeah, yeah!” Riley hisses down at her, as the bludger sails back up toward him, obviously not terribly happy with a target that zoom about in the air. “Sorry! …brat,” he mutters the last word under his breath, however, softly enough to get lost in the whoosp of air around him as he again moves to meet the rising bludger. Concentrate. Focus. These are your mates. You’re fine. Ease up. Untense. “David! Fer you, mate!” Make it a challenge, focus.. Not so hard with the bad, don’t over-extend the arm… CRACK! Again Riley‘s bat connects with the bludger, but this time it seems to actually cooperate. The aim isn’t spectacular, but it at least sails in the general direction of it’s target, hopefully enough to make David swerve off course.

Clavicle Gravely is slowling a touch now…and decides at the quarter way, to run interference…he slows and watches David.. ready to change direction to match the man. He slows to 1/4 speed, this will give him extreme maneuverability, but he will have to floor it top catch the boy when he catches up to where Clavicle is. He watches David carefully.

Shaking her head, Kara finally collects all the escaped balls, offering Noémie a small wave before the girl starts lobbing them up toward her again. Just to be on the safe side, she also intends to keep an eye on the bludger again.

Bailey Williams does an impressive turning maneuver, swinging high on his side while he turns back toward the center of the pitch. A grin is tossed in Clavicle’s direction as the fourth year leans forward, picking up speed, eyes focused on David and the quaffle.

Feeling the tension grow, David gives himself a couple of seconds to come to a good position, then pushes his broom forward and dives to convert some potential energy into kinetic energy. As he dives, he also turns to the left to fly directly towards the goalpost. If he is quick enough, he might be able to lob the Quaffle towards the goal.

Clavicle Gravely gauges the boys approach and zips off back towards the goal, He flies by, attempting to SNAG the Quaffle as he zips by David at full speed! Even if he misses, he hopes his flyby will cause David to wobble!

The second year chaser is fast indeed. David decides to not wait for him and throws the Quaffle at the goal, trying to give as much force to the red ball as he can, but he is still a bit too far away from his best shooting distance. Still, he is reasonably satisfied of himself as he sees the ball flying towards the hoops. He might have a chance…

The sudden throw slightly surprises Van, it was earlier than she expected, but it fails to catch her off-guard. She’d been watching David like a hawk, waiting for a sign of movement, so it doesn’t take much for her to get in to position. His throw is somewhat wider than she’d originally thought, though, and she manages to catch the quaffle — though only by the tips of her fingers, just before it sailed through the left hoop. Turning on her broom to share an impressed nod with the third year, Van tosses the quaffle in to the air and spins on her broom, using the brush of her Freefloater 18 to toss the red ball back out to about middle-pitch. “Nice one, Mildred!” She has no doubt that had she not been watching him as she was, he’d have gotten it past her. He’d improved a lot since last year.

Bailey Williams laughs, David’s throw catching him off guard as well. A thumbs up is given toward Van before racing off in the direction of the tossed quaffle, throwing a complete roll in there to show these new players a bit of how it is done.

Flying here and there as Kara makes her throws, calling out praiseas as Kara’s throws get more challenging for her, and more varied. “Great, one! That’s great!” She zooms around, breathing heavily as she continues heading out for the golf balls, then after a great many catches and a great many misses, she comes to land. “Alright, everyone! Come to land when you like! I’ve got homework to attend to, but I’ll do some of it just over here and keep an eye on you. Good shot, Riley!” she calls to the beater as he makes a particularly deft shot. “You’re doing really well, Kara. Your throws were very challenging for me. I think you’ll make a terrific chaser. Perhaps a keeper, if you’re inclined to that. We’ll se next time, hmm?” Noémie sets her broom down and pulls out her wand, calling all the outlying golf balls to her with a summoning charm.

Alright, so it wasn’t a complete waste. He’d managed to pull off a shot or two, at least. But Riley couldn’t help but feel somewhat dissapointed as he drifted lazily toward the ground, withdrawing his wand and Stunning the bludger so that it could be put back in to it’s case more or less without injury (to those trying to put it away). He was looking terribly tired, and now that the light had dwindled, even more pale. And now his brow was creased in thought, trying to work out a better quidditch game for himself.

Kara Raine jogs up to Noémie, mostly empty bucket in hand and helps gather up the balls. “Thanks! It was really fun, I decided toward the end there to start changing the way I was tossing them, and I can really see a difference in how they went.” A red blush spreads across her cheeks, “Oh, thanks Noémie. I’m not sure yet, but I have always liked the chasers.” She hangs around for awhile to see that everything is put up, before jogging back off toward the castle.

Clavicle Gravely does a tight bank and goes to get the quaffle before returning to Noémie. He is the last to land and grins as he does so. “That was a brilliant hit Riley!” Clavicle apparently misses the subtleties Riley was shooting for and was just glad not to have a bludger to his head.

Bailey Williams circles down in a lazy spiral, coming to land gently beside the others. “Hey, good job there at the end Riley, you are really starting to get the hang of hitting them.” An appreciative nod is cast in Clavicle’s direction too. “Good job as well. It turned out to be a great practice Captain.”

Van Douglass almost immediately lands once they’re dismissed, jumping down off her broom a good way before it has reached the ground. As soon as she has collected herself, she’s moving back toward the castle at a brisk pace. Obviously, she has things to do and people to sno–see. “Great practice, all!” She calls back, warmly, before dashing off.

Riley Markham nods to both Clavicle and Bailey, smiling weakly to both in turn, before guiding the bludger back in to the case with the tip of his wand. Once it’s latched in, he exhales a soft breath. “Thanks guys,” he mutters, but after collecting up his broom, he starts up toward the castle alone. A lot on his mind.

Left to clean up on her own, Noémie picks up everything, piling it all back into their appropriate containers before making her way back to the broom shed to put things away. Another day, another practice. Noémie waves as each player exits and makes her way back into the castle alone, intending, of course, to see them in the commonroom.

A long, meandering carpet (dry and hooded) of red velvet leads from the main entrance of the castle toward a surprisingly small, off-white carnival tent that has been erected upon the front lawn. Though it looks hardly large enough for one person to stand in from the outside, the inside of the tent is amazingly spacious. Nearly as big as the qudditch pitch, well-lit, and lavishly decorated in appealing shades of green and cream, the inside of the tent is pleasantly warm, and the grass and soil underfoot is solid and dry despite what ever the weather might be outside.

The room has been divided in to four nearly equal quarters, each meant to serve a different purpose. The southeast corner of the pavilion has been divided off in to several large, round tables each flanked by a half-dozen chairs and cloaked by off-white tablecloths. A large centerpiece of summer lilies decorates each table, and there is a small package of every-flavor beans at each place-sitting. The southwest corner is also filled with tables, but these are much longer. Almost as if the house tables from the great hall had been brought out on to the lawn, and decorated with similar accents to the more intimate tables east of them, these long tables have no chairs. Instead, they’re laden down with food. Large platters of finger foods spread across each table, in the form of crackers, cheeses, pocket breads and delicatessen meats of exotic varieties, a feast designed to be consumed without the benefit of utensils. The deserts are likewise finger-friendly, consisting of brownies, biscuits, and tarts. Disposable plates and napkins are provided in plenty, as are bins for rubbish, and at each end of each serving table is a large bowl of quick-clean potion and an ever-dry towel for proper hand washing.

The northeast quarter of the ten has been given to a large, open space for dancing, and an a small orchestra of enchanted, floating instruments that play a variety of cheery tunes without the benefit anyone holding them. The northwest quarter is filled with a small brevy of carnival-style games, each manned by a witch or wizard from the village of Hogsmeade. Small trinkets are available from a games that cost a knut or two (“toss the ring on a butterbeer bottle”, or the “dunk the Gringotts goblin” booth), while larger prizes may be won from games that cost up to a sickle (“arm wrestle a security troll”, or the “unstick the ever-sticking charm” booth). As promised, there are is a booth being run where students may pay two knuts to have the chance and throw confiscated footware through a vanishing hoop. Two well-trained security trolls and two Gringotts goblins stand at the entrance of the tent to ensure that everyone is blissfully barefoot.

Perhaps befitting the Minister’s son, Evan Geroff walks in, black robes, light catching and richly decorated, showing off his tall figure. On his arm is Olivia Baxtor, and his gaze moves between her and the social set-up before him, as he both admires the event and continues a conversation with her. “They said they would be confisticating any shoes worn.. I suppose one of the professors may be watching, or perhaps they’ve got a charm..” “Look at this! They’ve outdone themselves. And it’s lovely weather.” His final comment for the moment comes as he points, with his free hand and a smile, toward the instruments. “Do you think they take requests?”

Melvina Prichard strolls in to the tent with a fairly amused smirk playing across her lips. Her emerald robes shimmering, her wide-brimmed hat resting cock-eyed upon her head, laying somewhat absently against her tightly-bound, silver bun. “Well, yes, let’s see this off then, shall we?” She doesn’t make it more than a few steps inside, however, before one of the goblins at door steps in front of her. Lifting one claw-heavy fist to cover his mouth, the goblin clears his throat in a suggestive manner before glancing down at Melvina‘s feet. Upon which her boots still reside. “Oh, silly me,” she chides herself, with a grin. “Rule are rules, madam,” the goblin responds, motioning for the security troll to offer the headmistress an arm to lean on as she kicks her shoes off. “Of course, dear. Of course. There you go.” And the goblin nods, with a fangy grin, collecting up Melvina‘s boots and placing them in the box for the vanishing hoop. “Perhaps we should charge extra for the honor of vanishing the headmistress’ boots,” the goblin muses.

Saphia Bona is one of the first to attend, walking alongside Clavicle Gravely with a cheerful smile on her face, although like many children in these sorts of events, they walk together but none the less apart. She chats with him happily about the event, but there’s still little change from the sight of them walking down a school corridor other than the fact that both of them are wearing much fancier robes. And no shoes. As Saphia enters the tent, she becomes impossibly giggly, having never seen this sort of magic before. Oh, she’d read about it, of course, but never seen it. “Oh… oh my. Clavicle, this is amazing!”

Stepping out to the affair wide eyed and the most dressed up he has ever been in his short life Louis holds his walking can under one arm as he steps onto the front lawn in his bare feet. “Brilliant job they have done with the place Alex, don’t you think?” He comments to Alexandra.

“Oh, I don’t know. I hope so; perhaps we’ll get a good selection of music.” Olivia giggles a bit, the festive appearance of the front lawn brightening her spirits and making her forget that she is even barefoot. “When do you think we’ll be able to start tossing shoes? I do hope I’ll be able to get someone’s that I know. Wouldn’t that be funny?” She laughs a bit again and looks all around here, finding that there is almost too much to look at all at once.

Lenore Pantall wanders in, rather alone and at a sort of gait that would indicate that it is entirely possible that she has wandered here by accident – as she approaches the tent, she lets out a loud shriek as one of the trolls grabs her arm and points, wordlessly, to her dainty white boots. She removes them silently, offering only a terrified whimper, and allows one of the goblins to take them over to the vanishing hoop. Under her breath, she murmurs, “They were expensive shoes!” before wandering over to one of the tables, where she half-conceals herself from the crowd. See, this is why she doesn’t like socials.

Briony Wexler strides in on Albert’s arm, looking quite proud of herself. Briony had secured an ‘older man’ as her date to the Social. She glances aroud at all the others in the room, examining the various people’s dressrobes, trying to figure whether hers are better or theirs. Surely hers would be considered better; after all, her mother had made them! The girl beams quite prettily as the two of them stride in, saying very little for the time being, taking in the atmosphere.

“You did that on purpose,” Riley accuses Melvina, his arms folded across his chest in a decidedly annoyed sort of way. He doesn’t keep his arms folded for long, however, as the motion pushes the ungodly ruffle decorating his chest in to his face in a distasteful way. He doesn’t bother with waiting for her response, however, instead frogmarching toward the round sitting tables. His cheeks already red from embaressment.

Clavicle Gravely walks along beside Saphia and nods a bit. “It is at that.” he chuckles. “Watch the ring toss, half those rings have bouncing charms on them.” he knows the tricks of a carnival. Clavicle is getting too tall for his age, taller then some teachers, he’s an ‘early grower’. But his robe is an alteration of his fromal spidery robe before. As he walks past the Mummy comes out of the Pyramid and waves at a goblin. The wolves raise their necks to howl as a stittched moon rrises over the pyramid. Druids pause their harvest rite to wave and smile carefully stitched smiles. And skeletons crowd at the catacomb entrance to curiously stare out at the people. At his throat the Skeleton tatoo pops up to look around…and raises it’s tophat to anyone passing by. But the boy, or rather, young man himself seems more focused on his date and their surroundings. “Want to try to dunk a gringotts man? May be your only chance.” he offers with a grin

Alexandra Leong nods as she enters the fray with Louis Harper, looking pretty in her pink dress and more feminine that she’s ever looked at school. She has her hand on Louis’s arm, looking a bit nervous. “Absolutely brilliant, Louis,” she agrees. Wiggling her toes as she steps on the lush lawn, Alexandra looks like she would much rather be running around, rolling on the grass, and making daisy chains than being all dressed up.

Stepping just as lightly and easily in bare feet as she does in shoes – perhaps more so, even – Eliza Marlowe lopes into the tent. One hand rests lightly on the arm of Geoffrey Ruzbin, a sixth-year Ravenclaw whose height just barely exceeds that of the lanky Head Girl, and whose black dress robes are impeccably crisp and well-tailored. “Niiice,” Eliza murmurs as she looks around the transformed lawn, a slow, appreciative grin spreading across her face. Her hand slips away from her escort’s arm – she hadn’t been holding on that tightly anyway – and Eliza turns to survey the crowd, easily looking over the tops of most of her fellow students’ heads. Geoffrey, a little confused but not offended by Eliza‘s behavior, simply follows along behind…pausing to steal a quick glance around the tent to see who has noticed that he is escorting the Head Girl. Nobody seems to notice except Caroline Kelsey, a sixth-year Hufflepuff, who shoots Geoffrey and Eliza a venomous look before turning pointedly away. Eliza continues on into the tent, saying, “Good day, ma’am,” and dipping her head in a quick bow to the headmistress as she edges around Melvina – the Head Girl is already safely barefoot and cleared to enter.

“Um, I guess it’s time to go in,” Gabriel says to Felicity as the pair makes their way across the front lawn. “It looks nice, doesn’t it? I mean it must have taken a lot of effort.” Gabriel must truly be nervous if he is commenting on decorations. But, Gabe was… Gabe was escorting a girl! Even though he’s spent so much time in feminine company, this was very nerve-wracking. How could he keep the small-talk up? Finally catching a glimpse of Briony with Albert, Gabriel looks to Felicity. “Want to… go talk to Briony?”

Martin Foster has never been comfortable in his black dress robes, but for once in his life he has a set that fits properly. Around his neck is a green tie that matches the Head Boy’s eye colour. Cheeks slightly reddened, Martin sideglances Marie-Anna Greyton–who is on his arm. “Uh… nice… dress… it’s–er–very nice…” he finally comments as his cheeks redden further. The two had met earlier, but he’d been relatively silent since their initial greeting as he hasn’t exactly been comfortable with Marie lately. “… you look very nice today.” Angelina wouldn’t mind him saying that about another girl, would she? His eyes narrow at the security goblins. “Great,” he mutters to himself.

“We’ll have to try later on. Do you have a favorite song to dance to?” Evan‘s attention shifts from the enchanted instruments over toward the games, examining each that he can see from where he is. “Likely as soon as they collect some.. do you think they will get many? I wouldn’t have, after being warned that they’d vanish.” Assuming she doesn’t object, however, he first steers toward the corner with the tables.. perhaps she’d like somewhere to put the flowers down, and they can always claim seats for later that way.

Clementine Duncan arrives in her hideous set of new dress robes, still quite tall even without the additional height of shoes. Her arm is linked with her date’s, a boy who in her opinion is a particularly ugly third year who happened to be taller then her… and happened to be the only person to ask her to go. His horrid looks do make her look a little better, though. The Ravenclaw does his best to try and coax at least a smile out of Clem, but the most she allows is a forced smirk to his see

Marie-Anna Greyton offers a little bit of a hint of a smile towards Martin. “Thank you,” is given in a polite tone to the Head Boy. “You like nice as well,” she states as she looks about the crowded area, brushing a ringlet to the side of her face as she does so. “Who would have thought there’d be so many people on the lawn at one time,” Marie chuckles with this.

Walking into the small tent slowly, and alone, Aisling O‘Cormac is amazed to find just how much bigger it is on the inside than on the outside. Taking in her surroundings slowly, gasping as she sees the self-playing instruments, she appears to be looking for someone. Spotting Lenore, trying to hide herself away, Aisling heads for her, navigating her way through the growing crowd. Going past the security goblin and troll, she gives a small nod, but that’s about it for her communication right now. Reaching Lenore eventually, she says, “Isn’t it impressive?”

Felicity Wexler frowns slightly at that, as Gabriel’s eyes dart across the room toward Briony. Her own following briefly, before exhaling a small huff and rather purposefully moving to slink her arm about her date’s, leaning close to him. “She seems fine on her own. Well, not on her own, I suppose, but fine never the less. Let’s go take a look at the games, hmn?”

“Oh, Gertrude and Helen and I used to pretend we were princesses and dance to mum’s — er — ah — well, the music thingy, and I heartily enjoyed that. I haven’t had much occasion to dance much since, though,” Olivia admits, glancing at the still empty dance floor momentarily. “Oh, perhaps we should sit here. It’s nice and close to the band, but we won’t have to worry about getting trod over as if we were in the middle there. What do you think?” She glances to the seats at the very outer edge and then looks to Evan.

Marching, chin up, into the tent, a small smirk plays on Suki‘s lips as she lazily places her arm around that of Shawn Astor, a seventh-year Slytherin with a skull so thick it’s surprising he remembers to breathe (though, he is heart-stoppingly good looking. But isn’t that to be expected of Suki?) The same could likely be said about Marshall Allyn, who follows Tallis Carter with a very vacant expression. “Tallis, darling,” Suki says, turning around. “You’re looking very nice today,” the girl says with a flourish. Smirking, Suki glances meaningfully down to her shod feet. “I knew we could get past those stupid trolls. No problem.” With a light laugh, Suki takes Shawn in the direction of the refreshments.

Lenore Pantall looks up at Aisling in slight alarm, then noiselessly shakes her head, waving a vague hand to indicate that as impressive as it may be, it does nothing to help her shyness. After a moment, she lowers her voice to barely audible, especially over the noise of the crowd – Aisling had better be able to lipread – and offers, “I came. Are you happy?”

“But why would I ever want to dunk a Gringotts goblin?” Saphia asks Clavicle, wide eyed. This kind of humor not only doesn’t appeal to her, she flat out fails to understand the humor in it. “Personally, I’m more interested in that one!” Saphia points to the ‘unsticking the ever-sticking charm’ booth, watching a bulky Gryffindor sixth year trying futilely to tug the decorative bar from its pole. “Look at them all, all clutching their arms. They think it’s a test of strength!” She puts her hand to her chin and soon is in classic puzzle-solving mode.

Adorned in his black dress robes (that he appears to be outgrowing slightly), Rafe DeWitt walks onto the lawn with Kelly Pantall on his arm. He peers out at the group with scrutiny and wrinkles his nose. “It smells like feet,” he comments to Kelly. And then he adds, “Your hair is very curly. Again.” He shrugs and approaches the goblins–shuffling his feet all the while. “I think your sister is here.” And then he glances around further, “I think my sister is here. Now’s your chance…”

Melvina Prichard passes her grandson an amused sort of look, one that hardly seems bothered by his accusation, before moving toward the band of floating self-playing instruments. Her expression terribly impressed. Making small fists with her toes in the grass, she watches amusedly as the hovering tuba belts out a fairly happy sounding blat almost as if to greet her.

Standing at the outer edge of the tables, Bonnie watches as the students file in, most of whom she is — thankfully — still taller than. “Afternoon, Melvina,” the Divination professor calls to the Headmistress as she glances around at the ever-filling lawn. “I should say this is proving to be very entertaining, don’t you think?” She laughs a bit as several students shriek as their shoes disappear. “Brilliant,” she whispers, her laugh subsiding a bit.

“Oh, okay,” Gabriel says, as he seems to brighten after this registers. Yes, games. That would be a good way to ease his nerves. With the girl latched to his arm, Gabriel smiles as he leads them to the aforementioned booth. “I think I could do this!” Gabe exclaims, pointing to the ring toss. Digging around in his pockets, Gabe pays for two games. The idea of winning a prize and then giving it to Felicity hasn’t occurred to him. “Good luck!” he says, handing her three rings and keeping three for himself.

Clavicle Gravely grins. “We’d need Guinevere’s guile, or acham’s razor for it. My wand is in my bunk. I didn’t think we’d need it. Still, if we could find a fulcrum….” he shrugs as he walks that way towards the booth… “I wo0nder if anyone has some oil?” he chuckles “I still feel a bit odd, dancing in the wrong field.” he chuckles. “Was kind of nice.” he waves when he hears Riley’s growl. “I think he’s related to a bear.” he says in a low whispered aside to Saphia.

“Thank you Marie,” Martin states with his lips curled into a forced smile. “I’m sure it will be an experience.” As the pair approaches the goblin, Martin discards his shoes merely by slipping them off. Then he bends down to the ground to assist Marie with hers. “Allow me…” His cheeks redden again.

Andy Carver strolls in, accompanied by Nellie Caldwell. Feeling a bit uncomfortable as they step into the overwhelming atmosphere, Andy quickly points to his bare feet, to please the goblin door steward. Nellie has been doing the talking, feeding him with the latest rumours. As Andy notices Felicity and Gabriel, who are walking over to the games he suddenly steers his company towards the other end of the room.

As Melvina approaches the self-playing instruments and the tuba bleats out a jazzy solo (in stark contrast to the classical music they’re playing normally) a wand flicks back into its pocket, and Darius Dwight sidles up to the headmistress, his everpresent grin in place, “I told it to do that,” he smiles. “How are you handling your new position, headmistress?”

Riley Markham passes a quiet glance toward Saphia and Clavicle as the come in, looking somewhat forlorn as he flops down in a chair and exhales a loud sort of sigh. Almost absently pulling his scarred foot up on to his opposite knee so he can pluck the pieces of grass that had gotten caught in the jagged edges.

“My chance? To do what? Break her fingers?” Kelly offers in quiet response to Rafe’s remark, wrinkling her nose distastefully and peering around, trying to find either indicated sister. “I don’t want to break anyone’s fingers in front of the Headmistress. She’s already caught me fighting once this year, I don’t think she’d accept ‘it’s her fault for letting me do it’ as an excuse.” The remark about the curliness of her curls is entirely ignored, except for a faint pink blush that colours her cheeks, and an amused shake of her head so her curls bounce. All in all, though, she seems entirely cheerful and happy to be there, if a little nervous.

Evan Geroff nods in agreement to Olivia, going so far as to rest his hand on the back of a chair. “Looks like a perfect spot. And not too far from anything, if we want to rest.” He pulls the chair partway from the table, looking at her – presumably offering it to her. “It doesn’t look like anyone is dancing yet; shall we stop here for a while, or take a look at the food, or the games perhaps?” And socialize, but there are people filtering into whatever direction they might choose.

Marie-Anna Greyton nods a little, though her own shoes for this particular appearance are nothing more than simple soft-soled shoes to match her outfit, on the chance that she forgot to remove them. “Thank you, Martin,” she states, blushing ever so slightly at this.

Still in the queue leading the students to the tent where the event occurs, David stands tall and upright , bearing a large smile as he looks at Katherine Nichols, the girl who invited him to the social. “Very impressive” he says to her, as they get nearer to the tent and begin to catch glimpses of what the afternoon is going to offer. David’s voice is barely audible amid the “Oooh!” and “Aahh” voiced by the other students discovering the setting of the event. “Look! There are games as well!” he says, getting increasingly excited as they get nearer to the tent. David is happy to be here, but feared a little that the event would only involve dancing…

Karina Sedgewick enters with Charles Harper, looking nice in her velvet dress. She is smiling an absolutely brilliant smile, full of unbridled happiness such as never seen on her face, at least not by this lot. Perhaps Charles is the reason, but either way, the couple looks surprisingly well matched. As the walk pass the security trolls, the Potions teacher takes a look at her bare feet. “I’m glad we remembered to put away our shoes at the Hogwarts gate, Charles,” she says to her date, laughing. “Even an Auror might have problems with our security measures…”

Aisling O‘Cormac nods somewhat cluelessly. “Yes.” she says. “Look at all these people! I mean, there’s the Head Boy, and over there the Head Girl, and, well, so many people I don’t even remember seeing from the Sorting! And they almost all have impressive dress robes, and there has to be some interesting things that will happen, and we’ll be here to see them!” Despite her apparent lack of clue towards Lenore’s discomfort, the girl is beginning to show some herself, babbling away and gripping her left plait tightly. One of the things that she neglects to mention, of course, is how out of place she feels, in her worn school robes rather than fancy new – or even old – dressrobes.

Felicity Wexler blinks as she’s handed the rings, though she can’t help but giggle. Obviously, the whole courting thing was relatively knew to Gabriel, and clearly he’d not read the many volumes of trashy, French romance that she had studied to be her guidebook on this, her maiden voyage in to her teenage years. Still, she adored a challenge, and she wouldn’t be put to anything less than the test. Giving a small grin, she turns and gives one of the rings a hurl. It takes a nice, long sail far right, however, causing her to give a terribly cute little pout.

Tale flies into sight, dropping a message to Martin Foster, then lifts up into the air and flies away.

Lenore Pantall is also wearing her school robes, which she indicates to Aisling with a wave of her hand, her pale cheeks colouring as she inspects each of the indicated people in turn. The fact that she slips behind Aisling, using the poor Hufflepuff girl as a human shield, as she registers the approach of Rafe and Kelly must be entirely coincidental. What reason would she have for hiding from them? Tapping the other girl’s shoulder to attract her attention, she offers the low murmur, “But what if the interesting things are bad and we all die?” There is a certain urgency to her voice, as if she is convinced that this will happen.

“Why thank you, Suki,” Tallis chimes in her formal party voice. “Marshall, assist me with my shoes,” she instructs authoritatively as she shoots a glare at the Goblin. The large seventh year does as he’s told and bends down, assisting his date. “Come Marshall, follow Suki.” Examining her best friend, she offers her a wicked smile, “Don’t you scandalous in red, my darling!” She pokes Marshall in the gut, “Tell Suki how beautiful she looks!” “Uh…?” Shaking her head and rolling her eyes in a slight huff, Tallis responds, “Never mind! Just go over there and talk to Shawn.” She pushes him towards Suki’s date.

Charles Harper chuckles softly with Karina on his arm dressed to the literal nines in his midnight blue dress robes lined with white fringes. A bit old fashioned but looking surprisingly well on the Auror. “That I would, I don’t believe I’ve ever had the misfortune of having to face one just yet luckily.” He says as he gives to Trolls a friendly nod. He takes a moment to scan the crowd and spots his son with a girl. “Ah there is Louis… who is that he is with there?”

Looking around for her friends, Briony spots Gabriel and Felicity over at the games and frowns a bit. Well, if they weren’t going to be sociable, why should she? She strides over to where Marie-Anna is standing with her date. “Hi, Marie-Anna,” the girl greets the prefect cheerfully. “Look, this is Albert. He’s a fourth-year, and he’s my date.” The girl grins and poses cutely with Albert, who still seems rather distracted. “Maybe we should go play games,” she states plainly, looking at the games, and she then drags Albert over there, intending to play the game next to where Gabe and Felicity were. She’d show them how happy she was to be there.

“Oh, Darius, dear!” Melvina exclaims, turning so that she can look toward the Wizo-Music Professor past her shoulder and afford him a warm smile. “Quite well. Quite well, indeed. And I could ask the same you, dear! How are you settling in? And these instruments, brilliant–I couldn’t have done better myself. Or nearly as well, for that matter. Quite fine, I say.”

“Yes! She’s right there. You could so break her fingers,” Rafe strokes his chin. “You’re tougher than her, anyways.” He takes off his shoes and then shrugs. “I guess you’re right, probably not good to make her mad. Don’t pet the burning bear–that’s what Mum always says. Oh… wait, no it’s always pet the burning bear?” After considering this, he takes off his shoes. “The dress is very… shiny.”

Every ruffle on Katherine Nichols‘s dress flutters as she bounces excitedly into the tent at her friend’s side. “Oh, look!” she giggles, reaching back to tug David along after her. “Yes, let’s try the games! Do you think we could dunk one of the goblins?” One primly gloved hand reaches out to snatch up a handful of Bertie Bott’s Beans as she passes a table. “Ooh, there’s Alex and Louis! Let’s see if they want to play, too! Oooh, hullo, Clem! Hullo Briony – ooh, I like your dress!” Bouncing from friend to friend on her way across the tent, Katherine is pinker and giddier by the moment.

Chuckling as Felicity’s ring misses, Gabriel shakes his head, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder as she pouts. “No, no, ‘City! You have to follow through on your throws! See, watch,” he says, tossing one ring. The ring makes it around the neck of a bottle–but barely. “I’ll help you,” he offers, making to take her hand and guide her next shot.

“Oh!” Clementine puts on a happy face as Rafe and Kelly arrive – just in case the two’s evening could be made better through her misery, as misery tends to have that effect on little monsters like them. Patting her date’s chest excitedly, she squeaks, “Let’s go play a game!” Grinning with new life, the puff instinctively walks on the balls of her feet as she takes him by the hand and tugs him towards the ‘Dunk the Gringotts Goblin’ booth.. not because it will be fun.. but because it will look like it’s fun, she wagers. Waving her free hand cheerfully to Kitty, she chimes, “We’re going to go play a game, too! C’mon!” She doesn’t seem to be planning on waiting for anyone to come along, though.

Darius Dwight smiles broadly and waves toward them proudly. “These are a very simple Wizo-Music charm… I think they have about ten classical pieces in them. Time consuming, though, I had to go through and play those ten pieces for each instrument. You owe me some overtime,” He winks to her, clearly jesting. “I’m eager to see how the third year students develop, to be honest. It will be wonderful to see them develop their talent, and then next year, learn some actual Wizo-Music…”

Clavicle Gravely stops Saphia and looks at Riley. “Would you stop acting like that and come on…this thing won’t be any fun without you.” he waves Riley over. “Come on.. let’s go around and see what there is to be seen.” he grins at Riley. “Come on.”

Louis Harper nods to a few of his housemates who have shown up and to Martin though briefly not to disturb the Head Boy and Marie-Anna. Turning back to Alex, Louis bites his lower lip just a bit nervously. “Would you like to dance or something?” The shaking in Louis‘s voice says it all. He’s never danced a day in his life.

“Alexandra Leong, one of his close friends, I do think,” Karina Sedgewick answers Charles. “One of my Hufflepuffs, actually. I thought I might have mentioned her?” Karina doesn’t seem to be paying too much attention to Charles’s interest in his son’s social affairs, dismissing it as something that Charles already knew. “Can I fetch you a drink?” she asks her date, instead of continuing with the topic of Louis, “I suppose I am officially the host here?”

“I think I’d like to play some games,” Olivia tells him and sets her bouquet down on her seat. “Maybe the dunk the goblin game, if I won’t get wet. I don’t want to get my dressrobes wet.” She nods and starts slowly walking over there, trying not to rub too closely up against anyone. “Evan? Where are you?” she calls above the crowd, unable to see her friend any longer as she still tries to make her way through the crowd. So many people!

Kassandra Verkooyen floats into the pavilion after she made Richard Terry linking his arm with hers. “Just for the entrance.” she assured with a smile. “It makes a good impression.” The goblin frowns as they pass without regarding him since the whole scene inside seems to attract both of them like a huge magnet. “Come. Let us meet Clavicle and Saphia, they are just over there where Riley is sitting and… cleaning his feet?”

“You’re welcome,” Martin flushes. The owl that delivers a message to Martin increases the redness in Martin‘s cheeks. Momentarily he smiles broadly, but then a frown begins to form on his face. He fights the uncomfortable frown that wants to take over his face. The entire situation is uncomfortable for him. Biting his lower lip, he offers Marie the most charming smile he can muster, but he can’t think of anything to say. Finally he resorts to scraping the bottom of the barrel. “How does your quidditch team look?” He offers Louis a weak smile and nod in greeting.

For whatever reason, Kelly does not look eager to leap on the girl and break her fingers, instead turning to Rafe with a slightly confused expression. “But the Headmistress is right there, and Morganna will get all angry,” not that anyone could really blame her, “and will kick up a fuss and then the Headmistress will want to know what happened and then I’ll get in even more trouble. No, no, if I’m going to break her fingers, I’m not going to do it tonight. Too many Professors around. And the Headmistress.” That logic applied, she seems to get rather distracted by Clementine as she notices her, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. “Is she avoiding me?” She asks quietly, peering after the girl vaguely. “I bet Clementine’s avoiding me.”

Aisling O‘Cormac, being the most subtle of girls as she is, bursts out laughing. “Die!” she splutters, before resuming a splinter of her calmness. “What could possibly happen that would result in us all dying?” she queries amusedly, beaming at Lenore. Perhaps a paranoia is the seat of her problems?

“Yes… yes of course. I remember now.” Charles turns his attention away from his son and back to Karina with a smile. “I do believe you are and yes I would love a drink!” Charles seems very good humoured today and its obviously all because of Karina. “A spot of Butterbeer might…. Oh! Or pumpkin juice if its being served. I haven’t had any in years.”

“Oh, well, I can’t really dance,” Alexandra says truthfully. “But, well, maybe we could… oh look, Kitty and David!” She waves at Kitty and David with obvious relief. “Maybe we can go and play the games? I heard you can dunk goblins, or something.” The small Hufflepuff stands on her tiptoes in an attempt to take a closer peek at the games.

Felicity Wexler blushes, brightly, as Gabriel moves to take her hand. She doesn’t resist, however. Quiet the contrary, in fact. Bowing her head slightly in a demure, slightly embarrassed sort of way, she allows Gabriel to guide her next throw. One which bounces over the butterbeer bottles, but comes much closer. “I almost got it that time!” She chirps, happily.

Marie-Anna Greyton chuckles a little uncomfortable chuckle before responding to the barrel scraping. “Rather good, actually, I’m quite pleased, so far,” is offered as she looks around and grins towards Briony. “Oh, there’s Kelly, I told her she’d look lovely,” is stated towards Martin, indeed, she too is barrel scraping.

“And get us some punch,” Suki calls over to the two bumbling fools, Shawn and Marshall. Now that those two oafs were out of their way (but wouldn’t they look nice in the photographs?), Suki crosses her arms. “Some frightening hideous dresses I’m seeing here, Tallis,” comments Suki as she scans the crowd. Of course, she glazes over the many spectacular dresses to point at one in particular, giggling. And then, Suki sees Katherine. Covering her mouth and laughing quite openly, Suki leans toward Tallis. “Looks like a pink marshmallow was let out of its packaging,” she says, taking her friend’s hand, hoping to guide them over to the girl.

Even though Nate Hunter was asked to the social by a girl, he refused to go with anyone, but he has conformed enough to dress up in his classic black dress robes. Why have a date when you can go stag? The third year has shown up without shoes on (yes, he walked through the castle without his shoes on), passes through security quickly, and walks up to Gabriel Goden. He offers his friend a lopsided smile, “Havin’ fun yet?” He winks.

“An attack by a Dark Wizard,” Lenore offers in the same quiet murmur, as if it was entirely obvious, and peers around vaguely. “Or Jack the Ripper. Kelly’s always harping on about Jack the Ripper, she’s probably going to will him into existance.” That simply stated, she clings at Aisling’s arm, rather tighter than would be necessary, as if the girl is a life raft or a human shield. Paranoia may be the origin of her problems, but when one lives with Kelly, paranoia becomes a part of your daily life.

Relief comes over Louis‘ face when Kitty and David arrive. “Yes! Games! Brilliant!” Answers Louis enthusiastically. Anything to stay away from dancing and possibly treading upon Alex’s poor bare feet. “Hello David, Kitty. Having fun?”

As Martin, Marie-Anna, and several other still-shod students linger by the entrance to the tent, Eliza Marlowe slides through a bit more quickly, clearing the way. A brief, “Hullo, Foster, Greyton,” all that she says, or has time to say, as she moves on into the tent. She notices the owl, and Martin’s sudden flush, but she gives him only a short, worried frown before she moves on. Geoffrey, still preening, is left behind for a moment, and scampers in a fairly undignified way to catch up to Eliza, who is already striding ahead. One of the Head Girl’s long arms sweeps down to scoop a casual handful of snacks up from a table as she passes, nodding her head in rhythm with the music.

Another nod is given to Olivia, but Evan pauses to reach for the Bertie Botts at his chosen spot at the table. If he opens them, it will look claimed, and he won’t have to worry about having a reserved seat next to his date. “I don’t think you’ll have to get wet; I’m surprised the goblins are willing, have you seen how..” in the midst of turning and heading toward the game, he realizes he has somehow lost her. Such a good escort he is! “..serious they usually are.. Olivia?” He has the advantage of being a growing fourteen year old, and can see over at least some people’s heads, by which means he proceeds to look around while angling back toward the dunking game.

Saphia Bona joins in with Clavicle, waving Riley over and doing her best not to look at his… remarkable… um, dress robes.

“Good riddance,” Rafe states. “She’s one of them. The pleasant ones.” He shudders momentarily at the thought of his housemates and then changes the subject. “Should we play a game or something?” And then, after glancing at the ground he offers, “We could go up to her… Clementine, I mean. It’s a party, she can’t exactly avoid us…”

“Almost!” he echoes, tossing his next ring, also missing. “Whoops,” he says, laughing and turning to Nate. “You made me miss!” he says, joking. Nodding, Gabriel looks to Felicity, who appears to be having a good enough time and glances back up to Nate. “Yeah, we’re having a good time,” he says with a grin. “Aren’t you going to try the ring toss? I bet I could win more prizes!” Gabe says excitedly.

Melvina Prichard grins, playfully, reaching out to pat Darius on the arm kindly. “Overtime, hmn? I suppose there are a few knuts I could spare laying about somewhere. Maybe I could share with you the profits made from vanishing my boots, hmn?” Her eyes sparkle as she nods, however, quite interested to hear about how the students were progressing. “Wonderful. Naturally, with as talented a musician as you directing them, I hardly doubt they’ll shine, but I’m pleased to know your prospects are high!”

“Yes! Let’s play some games!” replies David, still smiling and happily following Katherine. The boy waves at the other students he knows, letting out a “Riley!” or a “Saphia!” as he sees them, and actually tries to go and talk to them, but finally shrugs and mutters a “See you later!” as he surrenders to Katherine’s constant tugging. David also nods courteously to Kassandra, the other girl who invited him, but on the contrary to his previous friends, he does not make any efforts to stay any longer with her, as he still isn’t sure of what to think of that invitation. As he and Katherine meet Louis and Alexandra in front of the game stands, he waits contentedly for the others to choose what game to play.

Somewhere along the way, Katherine Nichols has picked up a handful of brownies, strewing crumbs across her spotlessly white gloves – but she does have enough to share, when Alexandra and Louis catch up. “Hullo!” she calls cheerfully, holding out the sweets for the others to share. “Want to try dunking a goblin? That looks like it would be more fun than the ring toss, and you can win better prizes from it, too. Wouldn’t you love one of those little birds, Alex?” Katherine points a crumb-covered finger up at the rack of prizes, where brightly-colored wooden birds flutter, set in motion by various enchantments.

“Yes! Punch!” Tallis raises a hand to her forehead. “Why on earth did I ask Marshall to come? Sure he has an excellent family and wonderful social ties, but Marshall Allyn?! The near-seven foot moron?! Disgraceful. Bad Tallis.” And then as Suki mentions Katherine, Tallis smirks. “Exactly. I do enjoy Kitty’s company.” As the two approach the young Hufflepuff girl, Tallis chimes in a rather high pitched baby-talk voice, “Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty…”

“Hi, Katherine,” Briony waves enthusiastically then turns to the game in front of her, not really paying attention to it. She whispers heatedly to Albert, something audible being about Felicity and her awful hair or something similar and stands with her arms crossed, glancing next to her discreetly as she watches her friend and her, ugh, cousin interact with their housemates.

Aisling O‘Cormac glances around quietly before turning back to Lenore. “But.” she says, then waits for a moment, considering her next move. “Wasn’t the last Ripper attack in 1888? In fact, all of them? What’s to worry about?” Thinking for a little bit, Aisling absently waves at some people she recognizes before continuing. “And why would a Dark Wizard attack Hogwarts, attack us?”

Clavicle Gravely waves to Kassandra and her date as well. He grins and bows a bit as he looks to Saphia, “Well any ideas on the unsticking of it?”

“Not really,” Kelly offers by way of a quiet response, peering about and trying to find Clementine – apparently she has misplaced her now – and fixing upon her a particularly potent glare. “I don’t like it when people avoid me. Even if they are nice.” She uses the word with a certain venom, as if there is very little that she could say that is much worse than that word. “What, is she afraid of me or something?” That fact that Clementine might be annoyed because the Gryffindor girl verbally abused her, belittled her and read her mail doesn’t seem to occur to her at all. “Hello, Miss Greyton!” She offers after a moment, suddenly distracted, looking up and waving at Marie-Anna, before looking for Clementine again with a similarly venomous expression.

“She looks very good,” Martin agrees as he glances around the tent. And then Eliza greets him–an out! “Eliza!” he calls as he drags Marie further into the tent. “Geoffrey…” he greets as he examines who he only assumes to be Eliza’s date. He raises an eyebrow questioningly, but says nothing. “Uh… you know Miss Greyton, right?” He runs a hand through his hair somewhat uncomfortably.

Riley Markham stomps down his foot with a soft sigh, once he has picked all the grass from it, before finally looking up with to note David. “David, oi!” He calls back, waving with a weary sort of grin, He’d just taken up his serving of every-flavor beans, when Clavicle’s voice and Saphia’s wave reach him. Cringing without really meaning to, he sets down the candies and considers, briefly, the value of fleeing like a coward. It did seem to have a fairly decent success rate at getting him out of this rather embarrassing situation, though it would only likely cause more embarrassment to deal with later. No, he decided. Time to take one’s lumps like a man. Pushing himself up, he slowly makes his way through the crowd to Clavy and Saphia, waving with one lace-ruffled hand. “Oi, ‘allo, mates.”

“Evan? Evan?” Olivia‘s voice rises in volume as she moves nearer to the games. She stops just several feet away from where the Dunk-the-Goblin game is, and looks about, her face filled with consternation. How could she have lost Evan? Though, she had to admit, the whole school being there made things a bit crowded. “Evan!” She clasps her hands together, scouring the group of people around her for the familiar face, feeling just ever so slightly nervous for reasons she couldn’t exactly place.

Marie-Anna Greyton gives Eliza a pleasant smile. “Hello, Eliza,” is greeted by the Gryffindor girl before she’s lead into the tent, and gives a nod towards Geoffrey. “Pleased to meet you,” is offered with a bit of a smile. Her attention, is then grabbed by Kelly’s greeting. “See, Kelly, I said you’d look good,” is noted with a nod of her head.

As Riley comes over, Saphia brightens up immediately, and whispers back, “Hello, Riley. You look.. um… ” and then she finally breaks down and whispers, “You look terribly awful and your grandmother is clearly the most evil woman on this earth and may actually be, in disguise, Satan herself. But I never said that.” She goes bright red as she realizes what she whispered, and then covers her mouth while diligently examining the pole.

Felicity Wexler is rather clearly having a blast, her cheeks still dappled crimson her wrist still tingling from Gabriel’s hand having been there moments before. Smiling briefly to whomever it is that her date is speaking, she turns her gaze resolutely back to the bottles and gives it another throw. Missing her third shot at well, though only barely.

Glaring acidly at Katherine, Suki bites her lip as she and Tallis stop in front of her. “Sorry about your dress, Kitty, Kitty,” Suki says with a cluck of her tongue. “Were they out of your size at the robe shop, forcing you to make your purchase at a store for dressing oversized Puffskeins?” Shaking her head sadly, Suki places a hand on her hip. “You should have told us you needed help, darling. Such a crisis could have been easily averted. All you need is a stitch-ripper to let dresses out.” Suki does not smirk after her sarcastic jeering, but maintains a pained expression.

Lenore Pantall shrugs her shoulders vaguely, as if to say that it’s not her job to determine the motives of a Dark Wizard, and slips under the table just to hide a little bit more. Dark Wizards, Jack the Ripper and her older sister surely won’t be able to find her if she’s hidden under the table! Reaching out to tug at the bottom of Aisling’s robes, the girl hisses an addition to her words, “Kelly says that Jack the Ripper could make another appearance any day. And! A girl from here was kidnapped by Jack the Ripper not long ago.”

“Not in this lifetime!” Nate states with the same lopsided grin on his face. “There’s no way you could beat me, Goden!” A chuckle escapes the boy’s mouth. And then he finally greets Felicity, “Ah, if it isn’t the… renowned Briony Wexler.” He gives the girl a low bow in greeting, “Humble Nate Hunter at your service! I’ve heard some interesting things about you! Gabe talks about you all the time…” He winks at his friend.

“Oh, they’re adorable, Kitty!” Alexandra squeals, even as she reaches to accept some brownies from her friend. “Let’s go dunk a goblin! Let’s!” Tugging on Louis’s arm, she points excitedly at the tank whilst bouncing on her bare toes. “Maybe you and David can see who can win their date a bigger prize!” she suggests wickedly, grinning.

“Hey… let’s throw some Suki or Tallis instead of a goblin. I’m sure that would be worth more points.” says David with a serious voice, as if he were actually serious. “What do you say, eh? Between us two, and you Riley, we could do it nicely…” he muses, smirking at the two Slytherin girls who were behind Katherine.

“She probably is afraid of you,” Rafe offers with a grin. “I hope she’s afraid of me. I wouldn’t want a Housemate not to be…” He eyes his date and then the Gryffindor prefect who Kelly greets, “Hello, Miss Greyton. Doesn’t Kelly’s hair look…curly?”

Clavicle Gravely grins as Riley comes in. “Porthos..” he states. “We’d not be complete without you.” He grins as he blinks and hmmms. “Are we allowed to tease you about the robes?”

Louis Harper bites his lower lip but follows after Alex as he is tugged by the arm. “All right then, One dripping Goblin coming up….” He says feigning confidence. Louis looks at the two older Slytherin girls Suki and Tallis as they speak to Kitty. He’s not exactly able to hear them as he follows after Alex but he’s sure whatever they are saying happens to be mean spirited a unwarranted.

Jaw dropping as Nate mistakes Felicity for Briony, Gabriel shakes his head madly, punching his friend lightly on the shoulder. “This isn’t Briony, you dolt! She’s over there,” he says, pointing exactly over at where Briony, indeed, is. (He’s obviously been keeping some kind of tabs on her). “This is Felicity Wexler.” Taking a hand to Felicity’s back, Gabriel pushes her forward to Nate slightly, shrugging at her recent, third miss. “This is Nate Hunter. Nate my mate,” Gabriel says, sounding rehearsed. He’s used this rhyme before.

As her shrill laugh, capable of breaking glass, floats up over the crowd, Clementine suddenly becomes rather easy to find. She doesn’t even know if the thing her date just said is actually funny, but apparently the faade is pulled of well enough and he gives her some money to play her game while he goes off to get them both something to drink. An idea which was hers, of course, not his. Tossing her straight hair, she scans the area for Kelly and Rafe with a fixed smile on her face but doesn’t see them. Whether or not she’s afraid of hasn’t been made clear yet, but there is a reason she wasn’t made a Gryffindor. Turning as people come up to where she has been left, she smiles wider, “Oh hi Alex! … Louis.” Even Louis gets a nice greeting. He is, after all, a lesser of the evils she could be exposed to.

Riley Markham can’t help but grin at Saphia’s words, a slow, wry chuckle escaping him in a conspiritorial sort of way. “Said what?” He responds, playfully, to the bespecticalled girl, before glancing to Clavicle with a small smirk. Though it’s a fair shot more friendly than he’s offered Clavicle recently. “I suppose so, mate. I didn’t pick’m, I just have to wear ‘im. Porthos, eh? And who’s Athos, Aramis, and D’artagnan?”

Crouching down to Lenore-under-the-table-height, Aisling looks at the other girl carefully. “No one was kidnapped by Jack the Ripper, certainly not from Hogwarts! That girl was taken by someone else.” Pausing for a moment, she glances venomously towards Kelly. “And it’s almost forty years since the attacks! Jack is probably dead. And if not, well, he’s stopped for good. Why else would he have a break of forty years? And change to the magical world?” Finishing off in a murmur, she mutters, “Perhaps I should tell Kelly where she’s wrong, here…”

Moving closer to the dunking game seems to do the trick; after peering over heads the whole winding way through the crowd, Evan nearly walks into her. “Excuse me, excuse me.. excu..oh! Olivia!” He gives a quiet, nervous laugh. “Barely even started and you’re already running from me.” Fishing a handful of coins from his pocket to pay, he sorts through them quickly, and shoves a couple at the person running the game, hardly even looking. “I’m sorry.. there, did you want to?” “And look, here comes Louis.”

“Pumpkin juice it is,” Karina laughs, making a small curtsy to Charles. She navigates her way through the growing crowd, waving to many a Hufflepuff on her way, before reaching the beverage table. After a few minutes she returns to Charles’s side with two glasses of cold, fresh pumpkin juice. “A toast?” she says to Charles.

Delayed even further by the Head Boy’s greeting, Geoffrey pauses, offering a perfectly polite, “Good to see you again, Martin,” and an almost courtly bow to Marie-Anna. “Yes, I do. A pleasure…” Torn between his duties as Eliza‘s escort and the duties of his manners to Martin and Marie-Anna, Geoffrey’s confident demeanor wavers a bit, and he glances uncertainly over his shoulder to where his date is rapidly disappearing into the tent. Eliza, already several yards away, glances casually over her shoulder, as if checking to see if she had dropped something. A faint cloud passes across the Head Girl’s expression when she spots Geoffrey, but Eliza just gives him a quick nod, beckoning him towards her.

This rather bizarre compliment is not lost on Kelly, who blushes faintly, though she remains rather distracted by trying to locate and glare Clementine in the crowd. “She probably is,” she confirms, folding her arms across her chest. “Afraid of us, I mean. She’s always running off when we’re nearby.” Once again, the reasons for this seem to entirely escape her. “Oh!” She gets drawn back to the matter at hand with a small smile. “Thank you, Miss Greyton.” She offers, bobbing her head slightly.

As Nellie keeps on turning her head into every direction to absorb and repeat every bit of fragmental conversations Andy needs a timeout. “Ahm… I’ll just walk over and fetch us some drinks, if you like.” As Nellie stated, that this was a great idea and told him that she would like to have a glass of punch. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Though this was least realistic. Andy shuffles across the marquee, but then realizes that he was just passing the games section, which was the most crowded place. He lifts his gaze, sees Briony standing at booth and walks over to her. “Hello Briony.” he greets, just noticing that Felicity, Gabriel and another Gryffindor were having a conversation a few yards away.

Take his glass firmly in his gloved hands Charles holds it up in front of himself. “To youth and to love!” He says with a laugh offering his glass up to clink Karina’s glass.

Tallis Carter continues to banter Suki has begun, “Indeed. My ladies’ maids could have assisted you. I would have just owled it to them–they’re quite helpful. Afterall I wouldn’t trust a needle in your pudgy little fingers…” She shrugs and then tilts her head at David, “Fascinating. Small boy with what he believes to be a smart mouth. I’ve always found that to be the most intriguing sort…I’m sure Marshall and…” she forgets the name of Suki’s date “…our dates would appreciate that.”

Lenore Pantall looks back at Aisling with narrowed eyes, shaking her head firmly. “No, no, Aisling.” She murmurs, peering out from under the table at the girl. “She was kidnapped by Jack the Ripper, there’s proof! And she was muggleborn, I think, and Jack the Ripper was probably a muggleborn wizard who turned evil. Er. Kelly thinks so.” And if Kelly has an opinion about serial killers, chances are that it’s true, in the poor girl’s mind.

At the sound of Suki and Tallis’s all-too-familiar voices, Katherine Nichols‘s bright smile instantly fades, and her round face begins to pucker into a hurt frown. “You. Go away,” she says flatly, turning to face the older girls straight on. “Or – or we will throw you into the water!” Inspiration strikes halfway through her weak retort. Spurred on by David’s suggestion, and strengthened by the presence of her other friends around her, Katherine pulls herself up to her full (but not very impressive) height, and says again, “Go away!”

An eyebrow is quirked at Louis’ father and Martin just narrows his eyes. The professor brought a date? Could professors date? He wrinkles his nose and smoothes his robes and then redirects his attention back to Geoffrey. “I think… I think Eliza wants you. Don’t feel obligated to chat with us. Your duties are to your escort, after all.” Or was Geoffrey the escort? Slightly confused, Martin shrugs his shoulders. He offers Marie a small smile.

Felicity Wexler squeaks, slightly. A slightly cross look touching her features at one; being mistaken for Briony, when they are very clearly different. The difference in Felicity‘s mind a few dozen pounds, at least. And two; how quickly it was that Gabriel seemed to pick out Briony’s location out of the crowd, as if he’d been watching her. She wasn’t entirely sure why that bothered her so much, but she was sure that the flush on her cheeks now wasn’t simply from the embarrassment of him touching her hand a few moments before. Still, she isn’t one to be out done. “Nate,” she greets, sweetly, nodding and giving something of a half-curtsey that seems appropriate for the formal nature of her attire. “Pleased to meet you. You can call me Lissy. And I’m Gabriel’s mate as well, at least for today.” She beams, happily, saying it in a rather full voice. Her smile is such, though, that her nose does wrinkle in the most adorable way, helping her same some face.

“Oh, there you are,” she comments and smiles at Evan as he approaches. She giggles and steps up to the booth, looking at the rather sour-looking goblin in the booth. “Hmn, I wonder how they got the goblins to agree to this,” she voices, echoing Evan’s earlier comments which she had been unable to hear, due to their separation. “They don’t look to be very happy about it. Who’s watching the vaults, do you think? If the goblins are all here, I mean.” Olivia takes the ball that is offered to her, lobbing it at the trigger and missing at a rather sickening distance.

Saphia Bona remains tight lipped, and suddenly has a brainwave. “Alright. We can’t move the bar, right? It’s stuck to whatever it touches firmly, right? But we can maybe change what that is that it’s stuck to!” Gleefully, she remarks, “I need permission from one of the teachers… or the headmistress! I can do this!”

Clavicle Gravely laughs at Saphia, “Well there’s a bunch of teachers over there making sure none of us get too close.” he grins and nods to Riley “Right … I’m the poetic one…who’s angry.”

Marie-Anna Greyton chuckles a little before nodding towards Geoffrey. “Indeed, they are, I’ll not keep you any longer from Eliza,” is offered with a pleasant enough smile, before she offers this same smile towards Martin. So…”

“To youth and to love,” Karina Sedgewick says with a smile and blush. She takes a sip of the juice, her eyes twinkling. “I do love you, Charles,” she says with a light laugh. Her blush deepens as she suddenly realizes what she just said, but she doesn’t take it back. Instead, she leans forward and kisses Charles lightly on the cheek.

The Gryffindor returns the punch to Gabriel and laughs, “Well, I just assumed–and I didn’t know what Briony looked like…” his cheeks flush slightly and then the boy offers the pair a shrug. “That’s me, Nate Hunter. Well, actually it’s technically Leopold Nathanial Hunter, but Nate is just better. And please forgive me, Miss Wexler. Just a case of mistaken identity,” Nate smiles at the girl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lissy. I’m sure you know how beautiful you look–even old Gabe here couldn’t have made that oversight.” He offers her a warm smile.

“Hello Saphia.” Kassandra Verkooyen greets, with a slight bow. “Clavicle.” she adds. “May I introduce my date.” she looks up to Richard. “Richard Terry, a second-year housemate of ours. What a wonderful evening, isn’t it? Have you already tasted the food? It just looks marvelous. A what a splendid dress, Saphia.” she steps back to examine Saphia’s dress. “Madame Malkins, isn’t it?”

Charlie Linwood slinks out onto the lawn, very carefully not in dress robes. He has, however, procured for himself a rather nicely tailored dress-up suit, having quailed at the dress robes(his reaction something along the lines of ‘That’s even more of a ruddy dress than the regular robes!’ and ‘They cannot make me dress like a girl.’) Still, his face is washed, his hair is nicely combed, and everything seems to be in place as though he were attending a muggle social. Without his shoes on. Yes, Charlie‘s feet are properly bare, whether anyone else took the title seriously or not. He is late, and he is, of course, alone.

“I’m sure they aren’t all here; likely they work in shifts, and we’ve got the off-duty shift. It would be interesting to know what we offered them for the favor though..” Evan stands back, watching as Olivia makes her first toss, and where it goes. “Here, try again.. just think about… pushing it forward.” He laughs once, more freely this time. “And about that goblin under water.”

Charles Harper takes a sip of his glass as well toasting to youth an love and even a blush comes over the face of the seasoned Auror. “I love you Karina. I have for some time now.” Charles closes his eyes when Karina kisses him and then brings her into a hug. Ah romance!

Saphia Bona smiles to Kassandra as she walks up to them, looking positively unladylike as she giggles with excitement in her newfound solution to the unsticking charm game. “Oh, hello Kassandra! Hello Richard,” she smiles as well, and nods, “It’s a Malkin’s robe, yes, but I still think it’s very nice!” Suddenly, she spots… “Professor! Professor Sedgewick!” She waves at the potions professor, trying to attract her attention in the chaos.

With a laugh, Gabriel adds, “Oh, yeah,” with a nod. “Felicity asked me here… and… yes, you do look very, very nice,” he says emphatically, looking her full in the face. Gabriel probably should have thought to comment earlier (girls liked that, didn’t they?), but, well, hindsight is 20/20. “And your dress is… pretty.” Gabriel says the word as if it doesn’t often cross his lips, but shrugs afterwards, his task complete in his mind. “If you want to bug him, which you will, just call him Leopold,” he says, nudging the other boy. “He hates it more than he makes it seem!”

Aisling O‘Cormac joins Lenore under the table, watching the rest of the room carefully. “I think that Kelly thinks and talks much too much about serial killers..” Looking out at everyone’s feet, Aisling continues, “Um, do you feel like maybe playing one of the games? The ring toss, maybe, or the goblin dunking? Or… are you hungry?” As much as she appreciates and loves her friend, Aisling would rather be upright and able to talk with others than sitting under a table. But if Lenore stays, she will too.

Riley Markham chuckles, nodding to Clavicle and passing a glance to Saphia with obvious amusement, despite the weary sort of annoyance that clings to his pale features. His gaze shifts toward Kassandra as she approaches, arching a brow, though saying nothing. Nodding to her, and giving Richard a small wave and greeting, “Terry,” Riley looks decidedly out-of-place. Rather beginning to feel like a fifth wheel.

Suddenly distracted from the present conversation – ah, what a fickle girl she is – Kelly spies Charlie and all but skips to his side with a cheerful grin. “Charlie! I was wondering if you were going to be able to make it.” Never mind that she just ran off on Rafe to go chat with Charlie, which probably doesn’t look good to anyone else. “Well, not that there was anything else for you to do tonight, but it’s good that you came – don’t you have a date?” Not that this would be entirely obvious at all by the fact that he’s entirely alone. “Oh well. I can pretend to be your date for a little while if you want?” This is offered cheerfully, apparently not registering that this is Not A Good Thing, as she already has one. Who she just ran off on. Oh dear.

“We’ll stay where we want to, Kitty,” Suki hisses, but growing quickly bored of the situation. “Where is my punch?” she asks shrilly, as not a moment too soon, the bumbling Shawn shambles up to Suki with a glass of pink liquid. “Punch,” he grunts as Suki snatches the glass away. “Finally,” she snaps, a hand still on her hip.

Looking back at Suki, then Tallis, David answers with a very calm voice, the giddiness of the event actually making him braver and more inspired than he would have been on an average day. “So… showing off your dates, are you? How much did you have to pay them to convince to come with you?” he says with a small smirk? “No boy would go with a pair of geese like you otherwise, and then, only people without morality would do that…”

“Pushing it fooorward, alright…” She makes the motions of tossing the ball again before she actually does so, this time, making it much closer, but still not hitting the target. “Hmm, I’m sure I can do this. Can I have the other ball?” She holds her hand out, as if trying to judge the aim she would need. Perhaps she has seen someone else do this very aiming technique, and while it looks quite professional, one has to doubt whether Olivia actually knows that this is helping or not. “I’m sure the third one will do it.” She smiles widely at Evan, actually feeling quite hopeful for her last shot.

It takes a moment for Karina Sedgewick to pull herself away from the universe that is her and Charles, but when she does, she notices Saphia and gives her an enthusiastic wave. “Miss Bona!” she greets the Ravenclaw. “Mr. Gravely, Mr. Markham! I’m glad to see you all enjoying yourself!” she shouts across the crowd. Karina rarely shouts. “I would have to congratulate the headmistress on this excellent event,” she says to Charles. “I think we can all use the opportunity to relax and enjoy ourselves.”

“I say, I thought you didn’t like pink, Suki,” Katherine retorts, in a sudden flash of bravery, and with a smug, pointed glance at the punch. “And you wouldn’t dare try anything, not with all the professors here. And the Headmistress.” Katherine tosses her head, setting her ringlets bouncing around her shoulders. David‘s addition to the debate makes her gasp, though, and she turns to stare at the Ravenclaw boy with scandalized awe.

“Probably true…” Lenore offers quietly, her voice barely audible in tone again, peering out from under the table, her moves tentative and hesitant to say the least. “Can you see her? Er… I think I’ll stay under here for a while.” If Kelly has vanished from sight, that cannot be a good thing, meaning that the small Hufflepuff has even more reason to be hiding under the table.

Felicity Wexler seems mollified by the belated praise, choosing not to notice how stuttered it comes. She was, if nothing else, always willing to bask in the attention of others. Regardless if it came naturally or not. Smiling happily, her blushing cheers resume a pleasant sort of pink color and she glances to Nate with playful eyes. “Leopold? Awh, but that’s such a handsome name,” she teases, giggling. “Why, if you were my date, then I could call you “Leo-pooh”. Or perhaps “Leo-doll”. Wouldn’t that be splendid?” Her eyes shimmer, mischievously.

Clavicle Gravely Grins to Kassandra and Richard. To whom he offers a hand. Of course on his hands is a bouncing tattoo of a skeletal dog. “Nice to meet you!” He says with a genuine smile

Clavicle Gravely nods politely to Karina Sedgewick. “And to you Ma’am.”

Charles Harper smiles as Karina brings him back to reality with mentioning Saphia’s last name. He looks down at the young Ravenclaw with a broad smile. “Ah Miss Bona. You are looking a great deal better than the last time we met. I do hope things have gotten better yes?” Charles takes Karina’s hand in his own while he speaks forgetting that Saphia probably doesn’t even remember him.

Marie-Anna Greyton carries on politely conversing with those around her, as the moment may call for.

Arriving on her own, Tahiri Sol sweeps in to the social with all her usual silent grace. Offering a nod to each of the goblins and trolls manning the door, she moves toward the round tables with a only a small glance giving toward the room.

Having attracted the attention of the professor, Saphia quickly darts over and says, “Professor Sedgewick, I need permission to cast a charm that would make a handkerchief intangible. Or I need a professor to cast it. I can win one of the contests this way! Please?” She actually clasps her hands together in a classic begging pose. As Charles spots her and comments, she smiles, “I’m very well now, thank you Mr…. Mr. Auror, sir.” She never did actually learn his name.

Charlie Linwood looks at Kelly and raises his eyebrows, though does not make any audible comment on her appearance. Doesn’t have to, now does he? “Erm… well, what about, you know?” He looks around now, trying not to notice anyone who stares, “DeWitt. You made such a fuss of asking him, and… well..” Charlie nervously rubs the back of his neck, “Alright. But not as a date, just to keep you company if he’s busy or something.” He takes a few steps out, cheeks a bit rosy, “I feel ridiculous without shoes on.” His eyes flicker around, and linger on a few of the couples. “I should’ve just stayed in, but I bought the ruddy suit so my father would get quite cross if I didn’t use it….”

“Er. If you will excuse me…?” Geoffrey gives Marie another quick, courtly bow before edging off into the crowd towards Eliza Marlowe. The Head Girl, for her part, seems entirely unconcerned with her lack of an escort for the moment – she’s surveying the scene, keeping a sharp watchful eye on the crowd. Uh-oh – trouble over by the goblin dunk? Eliza‘s expression darkens as she sees Suki and Tallis swooping in towards the younger students, but she does nothing more than note the situation with a quick nod of her head, and turns back towards Geoffrey as he pushes his way towards her. “Ready to dance, if a good song comes up?” the Head Girl asks, jerking her head towards the band with a grin.

Evan Geroff grins back at Olivia, placing the third ball, which he has been holding, in her hand. “Third time always does it.” He neglects to offer more advice; being a chaser, he knows how to throw balls, but this doesn’t quite seem the place for a quidditch lesson after all.

“Suki is pretty,” is Shawn’s stunningly clever retort to David’s question. Suki, however, is not amused, hitting the boy over the head and whispering, ‘clever…’ into Shawn’s ear before laughing loudly. “The reason this social called for girls asking boys here was so that there’d be no emergencies– boys trampling each other– in order to be the first to ask Tallis and myself. Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, Mildred,” Suki warns as she looks over to Katherine. “I’m sorry, just what are you implying?” the girl asks, tilting her head.

Alexandra Leong comes to her friend’s defense, even as the rest of their group rally around Kitty. “Some people just can’t stand people with real friends, Kitty,” she says, “Come on, let’s go play.” Alexandra, taking the high road? Impossible. Something’s up.

Sighing a bit as Albert presents a prize to her, she smiles up at him thankfully. “How SWEET!” she tells him, saying it rather more loudly than is absolutely necessary. “Would you look at that, Albert won a prize for me!” She giggles and hugs the boy rather over-enthusiastically. She glances over and sees that Felicity seems to be oblivious of her antics, though Gabriel almost appears to be watching. Well, honestly, why would he be watching? Briony huffs a bit and looks at the prize. “Shall we head over and get some seats?” she suggests and drags Albert off towards where the tables. “I’d like to put this down so it doesn’t get ruined.” She giggles a bit and heads in that direction quickly.

Riley Markham lifts his gaze toward Karina with slightly wide eyes, somewhat surprised she’d speak to him after his Pepper-Up Potion made her openly weep a few days before. “Hallo, Professor,” he replies, kindly, though in somewhat sheepish tone. Charles, however, fully catches his attention as the man greets Saphia. His eyes narrowing almost instantly, though can’t really be certain why.

Completely forgetting about Nellie and still standing next to Briony and Albert, it was just the scenario Andy had expected. Felicity having a good time with her date, blushing and chuckling whatever compliment or joke he would be making. At least it seemed so, from the distance. In a few days he would even have to play Quidditch in the same team with him. Probably passing him the quaffles which he would easily convert into points. All the glory pocketed by Gabriel.

Louis Harper stands behind Alexandra and Katherine glaring hard at the older Slytherin girls and there dates. “I don’t think Astra …. or Martin would like to hear about you both being…. anti-social at a social.” He tries his best to sound menacing but being only in his third year and slim as a toothpick that could be rather silly looking.

Even though she had been speaking to him only moments before, Kelly‘s expression is suddenly one of surprise, as if she had momentarily forgotten that she already had a date. Then, she blushes quite furiously and offers, quietly and confidentially, “I can’t get used to the idea that I have, you know, a sweetheart now. It’s just so random!” Then, she looks up, scoping the crowd for the elusive Rafe, and her voice raises again to a much more normal level. “I think I misplaced him, though. So I can keep you company until I find him again.”

Karina Sedgewick seems intrigued. “Did you check with the operators of the game that this is within their rules?” she asks Saphia, with a bit more seriousness than she really intended. “And, if I agree to cast it, do I get a part of the prize?” She seems bent on seriously negotiations, although her eyes are twinkling with mirth. “What do you think, Charles? What would be fair?”

A giggle bursts out of Katherine Nichols, full of actual amusement at the prospect of anyone liking Suki and Tallis. “I’m not implying anything!” she protests with perfect innocence, but giggles continue to bubble out of her, bright and giddy with exhilaration at being able to stand up to the older girls, and having her friends clustered behind her. “Yes, let’s try, Alex.” One last flash of mischief rises up in Katherine‘s eyes as she adds, “It’s much more fun to dunk goblins than to talk to them.”

“I think you have too many delusions of grandeur, Korosu. You think every boy wants to go out with you… but you see, I’m a boy, and I actually get to hear what boys say. Which is far from being what you think it is. Now go away, and let us throw our Goblin.” says David. “Unless you want us to do you instead.”

Clavicle Gravely has wandered up towards things with Saphia and nods to Mr. Harper. “Good day to you.” the Gravely boy states. Clavicle is a Gravely, of the Gravely Shadow Emporium and Autumnal Carnival. A carnival that travels in both worlds. He offers the man a hand, and Clavicle it seems, has some of the markings of his father, Gravely the Second, as he already has animated tattoos here and there. “You were one of the ones that helped rescue Miss Bona? As her friend, I owe you a debt of gratitude.” He offers a hand to the man, the boy seems so formal, to be only 12. “If you are ever about the school sometime, I would consider it an honor to bend your ear with questions on your trade, I could write a good paper for Professor Rathe I suspect.”

Extremely amused by the whole notion of ‘Leo-pooh’, Gabriel laughs as he nods animatedly to Felicity. “Good one!” he declares, grinning. Glancing over slightly as he hears the familiar voice exclaim, ‘Sweet!’, Gabe quickly turns back to the other two. “That’s enough ring-toss,” he exclaims, taking Felicity’s hand. “Want me to get you some punch?” he asks. Oh, he was good at this date thing.

Charles Harper strokes his chin thoughtfully at the question “My name is Charles Harper, and it is a pleasure to rightfully make your acquaintance Miss Bona.” Charles looks at Riley with almost the same look he is given. “As for winning this game…. as long as it’s operators are not against it I don’t see why not…. es It sounds fair Karina.” He chuckles again.

Aisling O‘Cormac looks around and then back to Lenore. “I can’t see her…” she comments. “I saw her move that way,” she gestures obliquely, “but after that, I don’t know where she went.” Espying a gap in the crowd beside their table, Aisling continues, “I think it would be safe enough to go over and play ring toss? Just one round, promise, and if we see her, we can come back here?” Her friend’s shyness is chafing, but she won’t leave her.

Clementine Duncan slips away in her date’s absence after failing to dunk the goblin. Wandering away from where he probably would come to find her, walks around with no real aim other then.. not being found. It might be cruel, but she doesn’t see it that way just yet. She glides gracefully past Kelly and Charlie, stopping not far from them as she peers around for her date… just in case he’s anywhere that he could possibly see her. He tall, too, after all.

Saphia Bona ‘s face falls immediately as she realizes that the answer to Karina’s first question is ‘No’. “Oh. Well, it would have worked…” She sighs unhappily, realizing that no, it really probably isn’t within the rules to pass an intangible handkerchief between the bar and the pole and lift it off with it. “I… I guess I’ll go take a look at it and see if I can find another solution…” Which indeed, she probably will unless someone manages to derail her fixation.

Charlie Linwood shrugs, then, though he seems somehow distracted, and keeps smoothing down the front of his coat. “Well, if you think he won’t mind too much, Kate.” Another wide look about. Somehow there seemed to be so many more people out here than ever at the Great Hall. Perhaps it’s the multitude of colors differentiating everyone. “What’s there to do?” Clementine gets a vague glance-over, but unlike a lot of the boys here tonight, he’s taking very little notice of the prettiness of the girls. Gee.

Lenore Pantall crawls out from under the table, though her expression is still one that indicates it would not be a fun thing at all. “Just one.” She promises, clinging to the other girl’s arm in a near deathgrip. “And if we see Kelly, I’m going straight back under that table.”

“Do me?” Suki repeats, eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.” Huffing, Suki turns to shove Shawn away from the little cretins. “Come, Shawn, it’s time for you to win prizes for me.” Shawn seems very happy about this, as he chuckles and runs solidly to the booth, looking eager to be put back into his comfort zone: sports. Suki only sighs, glaring nastily at David and Katherine in turn.

“But, we haven’t won any–” Felicity starts to say, frowning a little. A sure sign that despite her nice masks and the smoke and mirrors of her pleasant facade, she’d been watching Briony and Albert all the same. She does, however, catch herself. Bringing a warm smile to her lips, she nods demurely. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love some punch.” The woman running the ring toss, however, must overhear, as she motions for Gabriel to lean close and so that she can hand him one of the lowest tier prizes. A terribly cute (in a hideously ugly sort of way) plush kappa.

“Alright,” Olivia answers and breathes in deeply, chucking the ball at the target and closing her eyes. Momentarily, though, she hears a large SPLASH! “Oh! OH!” She claps excitedly and giggles, taking her prize happily. “I did it! I dunked the goblin!” She pauses and glances at him. “Oh, my, doesn’t he look mad. Let’s… perhaps we should head back to the table so I can put this down.” She pauses. “Do you want it?” She brandishes it in his direction with a big smile. “I won it.” Her face is filled with joy and surprise.

Kelly Pantall pauses for a moment, thinking this over. Would Rafe mind that she walked off mid-conversation, misplaced him, and attached herself to another boy? Well, if she manages to register that most people probably would mind quite a lot if that happened, it doesn’t show in her actions and words. “Well, there’s a whole lot of games and so forth. Dunking goblins and ring tosses and so forth. Or dancing. Do you dance, Charlie? I don’t think Rafe does, so I didn’t want to tell him that I really do like it.” See how considerate she is? Pausing for a moment in her conversation, she twirls the skirt of her robes back and forth. Swoosh. Swoosh.

Letting out another peal of laughter in triumph, Katherine turns her back on Suki and Shawn with elaborate care. “Oh my goodness, I can’t believe we made them go away!” she gasps under her breath to the others, her face pinkening with leftover agitation and giddy glee. She reaches into her purse – just as pink and ruffled as her dress – to pull out several Knuts. “Let’s start playing! Oh, good show, Olivia!” she cries, enthusiastically applauding her housemate’s success at the game, and patiently waiting her own turn.

David chuckles Suki walks away, understanding that she was fleeing away. “I pity his date. Either so smitten with her that he can’t think straight, in which case I hope for him he’ll recover quickly, or he’s genuinely stupid. Oh well. Who wants to throw his first goblin?” he asks cheerfully.

Having started to head for the punch, Gabriel‘s attention is caught by the woman, and he releases Felicity’s hand momentarily to accept the covert prize. Returning to Felicity and Nate, Gabriel holds up the plush kappa for them to see. “Look at this, she gave me one!” Wait for it… wait for it… comprehension! “Ohh,” Gabriel says quietly as he understands. “Here Felicity, I want you to have it,” he says, passing the plush kappa to her with one hand and offering his other arm to her simultaneously. “Now punch,” he says.

Clavicle Gravely backs away a bit from Charles Harper and shrugs a touch. Uncertain, he decides not to push for attention and looks back to his friends. “The best thing to do…is ask them what the rules actually are, then find the loophole.”

Evan Geroff laughs happily, and even makes a move to hug Olivia – but wait, this isn’t one of his sisters, this is his date.. would it even be proper? – and so, still grinning despite his confusion, he changes his motion easily to simply reach for her arm again, to escort her back to the table. “Wonderful job! Do I.. oh, but I think we have it backwards, I was supposed to win you something. We probably ought to get out of that goblin’s sight range for a while though..”

Having just crawled out from under the table, Aisling stares around a little, taking in the huge amount of people present. Heading slowly towards the ring toss through the masses of people, she somewhat hauls the other girl along, stuck as she is onto her arm. Arriving at the ring toss, Aisling waves quickly at Olivia, who she met prior to the Sorting, and other people she’s met, over at the goblin-dunking stand. At the stall holder’s query, she turns to Lenore. “Do you want to go first?” she queries.

“Oh, let us sit there where we can watch the others trying the games. Maybe you could win a prize for me later?” Kassandra chirps. She and Richard walk over to the chairs and sit down. Sipping on their glasses of punch and watching the ‘Dunk the Goblin’ game. Laughing every time the poor goblin plunges into the water.

Riley Markham sigh, softly, lifting a hand to brush back his hair — despite the fact that for once, it’s actually tightly tied back for a change. “I think I’m going to go get something to eat. Why don’t you both, go, you know, have some fun. Play some games, or something. Have some fun or..” The words seem to stick in his throat, obviously having reach the limit of his fifth-wheel tolerance. “Dance,” he says, finally, with something almost like a small gasp. “Or something. Just, yeah. Excuse me, eh?” Still, he smiles, before backing up a step and turning toward the food tables. His scarred foot continually picking up blades of grass with it as he walks.

“Well… I don’t, really,” Charlie is Uncomfortable, with the capital ‘U’ and all, all of a sudden, and so quickly rushes, “I mean, once or twice, I’ve had to with my cousin–she’s a muggle, but was learning,” he’s only upper middle class, this one. Charlie fidgets again and seems to notice Kelly’s dress robes. “Green.” Indistinct muttering, and he sort of dawdles, though his eyes move toward the games rather than the dancers.

Saphia Bona looks to Riley unhappily as he begins to walk away, but knows better than to chase after him now. Instead, she merely mouths the words, ‘Goodbye’… as he heads off, but, his back turned, he doesn’t see it. Saphia looks to Clavicle instead and asks, “So, um, what do you want to do?”

Apparently Gabriel was having all the group’s attention at the moment. That could be Andy Carver‘s chance. He sidles through the crowd, passes a few couples and finally tries to scurry out of sight behind Gabriel’s back and remain unrecognized.

Lenore Pantall shrugs vaguely at Aisling, though she does take the ring and toss it inexpertly at the bottles. She repeats this twice, before turning back to Aisling with an ‘I give up!’ sort of expression. “I have bad aim.” She observes quietly, returning to clinging tightly to Aisling’s arm.

Clavicle Gravely hmms. “Hey Riley.. er. Save me a sandwich. Yeah? We have to talk quidditch later.” he shrugs to Saphia and looks at the mostly unused dance area. “Well then. shall we do some of that grass bending?”

Felicity Wexler turns a shade of scarlet to match her dress as she’s offered by the adorably-ugly doll and the Gabriel’s arm, accepting both in turn. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth and chewing on it nervously for a moment, she lowers her gaze in a slightly embarrassed way, before glancing toward Briony out the corner of her eye. Cradling the plush turtle to her, she covertly (do her best to keep Gabriel from noticing), pokes her tongue out at Briony in a ha-ha sort of way. A heartbeat out and back in, but enough to convey a message. She’d gotten a prize, too.

A skinny boy can be seen quickly walking down from the castle, still fumbling with his dress tie, he mutters a few things to himself, “Blimey, I can’t be on time for anything!” Chris finally reaches the large group of people, his tie finally submitting to his will, he seems to look for someone. “I hope she didn’t leave, serves me right for bein’ so late.”

Kelly Pantall is hardly upper-class herself, as much as her mother tries to persuade the world otherwise, and she grabs firmly for his arm to try and pull him back towards the dancers. See, Charlie she has no qualms about pushing around, and hence the biggest difference between him and Rafe. Except for all the other petty differences. “Just one dance, please? I promise you, if Rafe gets annoyed, I’ll tell him I persuaded you to do it so you don’t have to have a big man-fight in my honour.”

Saphia Bona smiles and only blushes a little as she and Clavicle tread away to the dance ‘floor’. At the dancefloor are a set of dancing shoes, together with a sign reading ‘Please wear shoes while on the dance floor. Regards, Professor Dwight.” Saphia looks at them and looks to Clavicle for direction.

“Aye,” Riley calls, without looking back. Lifting a hand to wave back toward Clavicle and Saphia to demonstrate he’d heard Clavicle’s request. Heading to the tables and stopping in front of the desert line, he snatches up a chocolate biscuit and chomps in to it savagely.

A flash of emerald reveals a Ravenclaw first year who had been hanging around the outskirts of the social, looking for her date. As Chris is spotted, Kara walks up toward him, a grin on her face. “Hi Chris! I thought I had missed you in the commons, so I came out here. And now here you are!”

Clavicle Gravely looks at the shoes with suspicion but shrugs as he tugs a pair on. “Shoes on the dance floor. I hope they don’t try to dance on their own.”

Accepting the three rings from the stall holder, Aisling O‘Cormac shakes Lenore off her arm gently, getting ready to toss her rings. As the first one knocks into a bottle of butterbeer, she pouts a little. Getting ready to throw her second ring, she turns to Lenore. “See?” she says. “It’s not so bad. And there’s no sign of Kelly, either.”

Charlie Linwood doesn’t really put up a protest, letting himself be pulled over to the dancing. A distracted, “Alright, that seems fair,” is all he says. Shaking his head, though, the boy focuses, and offers up a more relaxed smile, “I owe you for Astronomy, anyway, right?” He seems to have decided turning down Kelly’s offer has more cons than accepting it, as he straightens up a bit.

“Ooh, they are heading for the dancefloor.” Kassandra almost cheers. “Shall we?” she asks her date with a challenging glance. He shrugs smiling and both of them rise, walk to the dancing section and eye the shoes that are provided. “I thought it was a barefoot.” Richard states. “I had brought my own shoes, if I had known this before.” Kassandra moans.

“Well, I don’t mind if you don’t,” she responds, sounding still cheerful. “Oh, my, it is hot in here? There are so many people around.” Olivia smiles to Evan as they reach their seats, gesturing for Evan to have the plush toy join his sweets. “Maybe we should get some punch, or water or something. I wonder what kind of punch they have. Maybe we should even have some sweets. By rule, mum doesn’t like me to have sweets, but maybe today can be special.” She smiles and grabs at Evan’s hand, as if to lead him over to the long table.

“Exactly!” Kelly crows, clapping her hands as if she just stumbled across the perfect way to persuade him. “You owe me for Astronomy, because I let you use my telescope and I – handed in your essay for you.” Ah, those blank sheets of paper don’t just write themselves. Then, she takes his hands firmly, assuming he actually allows her to do so, slipping on a pair of the special dancing shoes. “Besides, that thing you told me not to mention? Now everyone will know it’s not true.” Because obliquely referring to it like this doesn’t count as bringing it up, of course.

Sitting quietly at one of the round tables, off to the side of the room, Orion Kari has his bare feet propped up in the chair next to him in a bored sort of way. One leg bent to provide a natural easel, the handsome olive-skinned Hufflepuff scratches away at a sketchbook, capturing the social with the point of the quill he holds.

Gabriel Goden wouldn’t have seen Felicity’s gesture to Briony, but he tugs her along just the same towards the punch. Ladling a cup (very) full, he hands it rather carefully to Felicity. “Here you go. It’s pretty full, sorry,” he says, understating the dangerously near to overflowing glass. Gabriel does not make the same mistake with his punch, though, which he downs all in one go. Wiping his sleeve over his face (oh how his mother would disapprove!), Gabriel raises an eyebrow as, while scanning the crowd vaguely looking for Briony, looses his balance slightly and steps backwards a little to catch himself, rather toppling into Andy. “What the-!”

“Shoes? Right then.” With a shrug and a toss of her head, Eliza Marlowe slips on a pair of the dancing shoes; Geoffrey, a little less certain about the whole matter, follow suit. As Eliza‘s foot hits the dance floor, the music changes, swiftly picking up tempo. A grin spreads across the Head Girl’s face, and she reaches out to take Geoffrey’s hand. “All riiiight,” she says, with an appreciative look over at the band. “I love this song.” Even though a few other couples have ventured onto the floor – a pair of fifth-years awkwardly entwined in each other’s arms and swaying; a cluster of girls bouncing around to follow the tempo of whatever music happens to be playing – Eliza and Geoffrey actually look like they know what they’re doing, and the music follows suit. The Head Girl swings around, moving with the same effortless grace that she brings to the Quidditch pitch. Twirling out along the length of Geoffrey’s arm and then reeling back in again, Eliza lets out a laugh as she spins in time with the music. Unlike some girls on the dance floor, though, Eliza doesn’t let her hand linger on her date’s arm for any longer than is necessary, and doesn’t spin in too close. He’s a dance partner, it seems, and nothing more.

Lenore Pantall peers about the area suspiciously, her eyes darting about and shining with youthful paranoia. She grabs at Aisling’s arm even tighter all of a sudden, clinging tightly to her and probably causing her to miss the next throw. “Kelly! Dancefloor.” Admittedly, that is quite a way away, but she had to announce her observance. “And she’s with a boy. A Hufflepuff one, I think.”

Clavicle Gravely follows along with the music as well. His dance style is basic, as he’s far more interested in trying to make Saphia feel comfortable then show off.

“All, good luck,” Karina Sedgewick says to Saphia. She turns her attention back to her date, and as the dance music starts to play a mischievous smile creeps onto her face. “May I have this dance?” she asks Charles, behaving like a perfect gentlewoman.

Marie-Anna Greyton has managed to find herself separated from her so-called date and is now being a wallflower, though she seems entertained enough as she watches the goings on of the dance floor.

“I don’t mind,” Evan agrees, stroking the toy once before setting it, sitting upright, next to his every-flavor beans. He likewise does not object as Olivia grabs his hand. “Of course we should have some – this certainly isn’t normal, and we can’t pass them up after the school went to so much trouble to set all of this out.” “Those tarts look particularly good, do you like strawberry?”

Charlie Linwood turns rather red around the edges of his face as he slips on the odd shoes and lets Kelly, of all things, take his hands. “Right,” murmurs Charlie, expression suddenly sharp. “After all, Kate, you are a girl.” Wonder of wonders, can it be true? Shh. There’s a moment of pause before he, should Kelly be so inclined, begins to lead in some not-too-close-to-my-body-please dance.

Charles Harper chuckles sipping his drink and watching to social progress. “It really is a lovely night Karina dear.” Charles sets down his glass and nods with a gracious “Ah but of course! I was hoping you would ask!”

Saphia Bona watches Eliza, and gets the idea immediately, “Oh, that’s so clever! It’s a tying charm, look at the instruments! They’ve got those silver ribbons on them that show the connec– woah!” Saphia gasps as Clavicle whisks her onto the dance floor. Smiling after her moments shock, Saphia happily, if clumsily, dances with Clavicle. The beat stays steady, but a few of the instruments break away to provide a slower melody under the fast beat, allowing Saphia and Clavicle the leeway to dance a slower pace than Eliza and Geoffrey.

Aisling O‘Cormac is suddenly grabbed by Lenore, distracting her and making her ring fly extremely wide of the mark. Peering at the dancefloor, she squints at the couple. “Heey…” she says, thoughtfully. “That’s not Rafe! I thought she was going with Rafe?” Casually tossing her last ring, she turns properly to Lenore, her ring landing over a butterbeer bottle unseen, and unthought of.

Clementine Duncan seems to be doing the same thing as Marie-Anna… and seems perfectly content doing so. It’s amazing how even in an orange dress, Clem manages to remain undetected.

Kara Raine giggles and shakes her head, the few curls bouncing merrily around her face. “You got lost again? Well, I suppose that by the time we graduate we might figure this place out.” Kara does the blushing now, at the comment. “Why thank you kind sir. You look nice as well, but its kind of strange being with out shoes. So, what would you like to do, there is ever so much here! Games and food, and dancing. I think I checked out everything while I was looking around for you.”

Kelly Pantall apparently respects Charlie’s personal space enough not to dance too closely, even if she does invade it on a regular basis under normal circumstances by randomly hugging him and grabbing at his arms periodically. “Yes, well done, I am a girl.” Her tone is cheerful rather than insulted, and she seems not to take remote offense to anything he happens to say. “But that’s okay. I understand and all. But you dance quite well, really.” She offers generously, spinning around a little and allowing her skirt to bell around her. That’s the best part of her dress robes.

Why has just everything gone wrong today? Andy closes his eyes for a split second and takes a deep breath. Now he would make a fool of himself in front of Felicity and his housemates. He just recognises that he is still holding his shoulder, preventing Gabriel from falling down. “Oh… ahm… sorry.” Andy tries not to look into Felicity’s eyes. “Are you alright?”

Without another word, Karina Sedgewick catches Charles’s hand and makes her way to the dance floor. A pair of dance shoes mysteriously find their way onto her feet, and she finds herself shoed and dancing, a more stately dance than the ones partaken by the youngsters.

“I thought she was going with Rafe, too!” Lenore hisses in response, leaning closer to Aisling and lowering her voice still further and adding, “In fact, she’s been harping on about it for, well, ever. And she told me he asked her to be his sweetheart.” This is said with a slightly triumphant voice, and she continues at a low hiss. “Which means either she was lying or she’s being unfaithful to him already.” The fact that Kelly might be dancing with another boy just as friends totally escapes her.

Clavicle Gravely grins a bit as he continues to dance with her “You are better at this then you give yourself credit.” he laughs a bit. The beat that meets them is perfect for the shoes touching the floor

Charles Harper cannot help but to laugh a bit when the shoes find his feet and he starts danceing allone with Karina. “I must say the music is excellent! Did they hire somone?” Charles is smileing while watching his date’s dance moves.

Aisling O‘Cormac looks shocked. “I’m not sure which of the two is worse!” she whispers vehemently back to Lenore. “I’m of half a mind to go and confront her about this!” she continues, before she is interrupted by the stall holder thrusting a small prize at her. “Oh!” she exclaims. “Look, Lenore, I won a prize! Do you want it?” she offers, friendlyly.

Kassandra Verkooyen and Richard slip into the dancing shoes. She chose some matching blue ones. He was content with a plain black pair, but as they just fitted themselves into his proper shoesize, their color changed to the same creamy tone as his robes. Kassandra was the one who had to lead the dance and after some starting problems, they had a good time dancing to the diversified tunes.

The Ravenclaw boy seems to try and control his nervousness no matter what. Chris nods, grinning as he replies to the statement about no shoes. “Yeah, is a little strange.” He looks around, not sure what he wants to do and seeing it as an oppurtunity to be polite, “Um, what would you prefer?”

Charlie Linwood isn’t so bad for a gawky teenager, but murmurs an indistinct affirmative rather than a proper awknowledgement of the compliment. Focusing on not accidentally trodding all over her feet, Charlie‘s already somewhat lacking conversational skills go directly down the drain. Without much thought, he dances a bit faster, something more modern. It’s quite a few steps before he says, “You’re rather good at this yourself.” The flush now is from dancing, and a smile threatens to actually stay on his face. It wasn’t so bad, dancing with a girl who wasn’t making moony eyes at him or giggling.

“Is there any Raspberry?” the girl asks curiously, looking over everything on the table. “Oh, look, coloricious!” She reaches over and takes a few of them, popping one into her mouth. “Oh, vees are good,” she comments, her mouth full, though she knows better than to do so under normal circumstances. “If they don’t have raspberry, then Strawberry is just fine.” Olivia glances over the table, and especially over at the punch bowl, the area around which seems to be quite crowded.

Saphia Bona smiles, whispering, “You really think so?” mere seconds before stumbling over her own feet and nearly falling. Thankfully, she manages to catch herself before Clavicle has to. “Um, with all due respect, I must disagree, Clavicle…”

Felicity Wexler gives a tremendous squeal as Gabriel stumbles back, having been so close to him that it actually nudges her a bit. The start of surprise that shakes her having been in careful mid-sip of her overly-full punch glass causing her to spill a rather fair amount of it down her front. A look of horror crosses Felicity‘s expression as she gives an upset kind of squeal and sets he cup aside, immediately grabbing for a towel to dry herself off with while looking toward Gabriel and Andy with half-concerned, half-accusing eyes. How was she going to clean herself off? She was so poor with cleaning charms that it was almost laughable. “Oh, what a mess! Are you alright, Gab–Andy?” Her eyes shift up toward the second name with almost a little surprise, her eyes narrowing, though more in uncertainty than annoyance.

“No, thank you,” Lenore murmurs distractedly, still peering at Kelly and Charlie. “Well, if she is being unfaithful to him, then they’ll have a big row about it, and if she was just lying, well, we’ll find out sooner or later. But does he know she has a sweetheart already? That would be really bad.”

Clavicle Gravely to his credit, stumbles as well a moment later, and makes it look like a dance step. “I don’t know…seems to fit the rhythym well.” he grins as the music starts a Miles Davis sounding syncopation to match their odd dancing. “Music to match

Gabriel nods, grinning to Andy as he sighs. “Oh yeah,” he says casually. “Just lost my balance. Sorry,” he adds hoping he hasn’t trod on Andy’s feet (though, with both boys not wearing shoes, the situation wouldn’t be tragic even if he had.) When he looks back to Felicity, though, his eyebrows raise in concern. Uh oh. Girls hated it when they got things spilled on their clothes! “Felicity!” is all he can say at first, not knowing what to do. “Should we get a professor to help?” he asks Andy.

Riley Markham rather pointedly keeps his gaze from the dancefloor as he collects up a small plate of biscuits and sandwhich meats (though forgetting the bread), before making his way back toward the round tables. Pausing briefly, he passes an almost curious glance to Orion, who seems to be sitting on his own drawing, before making his way over to the sixth-year loner. Flopping down in a seat somewhat near the artist, he drops his food on the table and tries to make some non-challant lean to see what it isn that the older boy is drawing. “Havin’ fun, mate?”

Kelly Pantall beams brightly at Charlie, though she is starting to get a little bit breathless from the dancing – not quite to the point of exhaustion, but it seems quite evident that she doesn’t look like she could keep going for very much longer. “Thank you! This is fun, isn’t it?” She twirls again, this time a little more exhuberantly, watching as her skirt bells out around her again. Dancing with friends is ever so much more fun than dancing with someone who fancies you. Not that the Gryffindor girl would really know the difference.

After looking over the choices for a bit, Evan selects two tarts that are at least something red, offering one to Olivia. “This might be. It’s one of the two, anyway..” While talking, he manuvers himself into the line around the punch bowl, still looking over the rest of the table. “Oh, I haven’t seen this type of cheese before.” It’s a pale yellow, and he selects a piece, nibbling at that. “I like it; I’ll have to suggest it for our next party at home.” Chat-y, yes, but he’s surprising comfortable here, for the most part. “Would you like to dance after this? It looks like people are starting now, we wouldn’t be out there alone.”

Saphia Bona smiles, but doesn’t seem to have much more to say. Soon, however, it’s clear that she’s getting a little tired, and is beginning to look fondly at one of the food tables as she dances with Clavicle.

Aisling O‘Cormac shakes her head angrily. “Regardless,” she states, “it’s bad form on her behalf! She should know better than this, she’s, well, old!” Making a move to head towards the dance floor, she stops as she realises Lenore is still behind. Turning, she seems to gather her thoughts before speaking. “Um.” she says, stunningly eloquent. “Our table is closer to the dancefloor, and to Kelly, than we are. How about some food instead of a return there?” No mentioning that if she did go close to Kelly the older girl might end up worse off…

Clavicle Gravely grins and nods to her seeing the look. “Famished I am. Want to grab something and sit a round or two out?”

Kara Raine shrugs, offering Chris a small smile. “How about we just walk around for a bit, I mean I have seen all that there is, but I can show it to you now. There are some really neat games, one that involves tossing a goblin I think.” With a smile, Kara nods her head. “Want to? We can swing around by the food tables and get something to snack on as well.” The girl reaches her hand out toward Chris, but blushes and drops it to her side quickly. “Sound good?”

“Beauty is it’s own entertainment, and it’s own reward,” Orion says, cassually, though with a somewhat dismissive note in his voice toward the nosy Ravenclaw who has chosen to sit beside him. He doesn’t, however, choose to hide his sketch. Naturally, it’s a sketch of people in dress robes. Two, in particular, whom his gaze seems to be flickering toward across the room. Two younger students, displaying a variety of facial expressions that seem to little his parchment. Curiously, though, both the girls who seem to have caught his fancy share a last name. “You needn’t feel compelled to converse with me simply because I’m sitting alone. I enjoy the relative quiet.”

“Bad form?” Lenore whispers, apparently finding that a completely random way of describing it. “Well, okay.” She offers after a moment of silence, and slips off towards the food tables, plucking some tasty treats for herself, then slipping under those tables without another word. Her hand reaches out to beckon Aisling to follow her, though whether the other girl even noticed where she went is entirely uncertain.

“It’s more fun than I thought it would be, sure,” says Charlie in what could possibly be mistaken for (being that it is) an agreeable tone. He slows as it seems a conclusion to the music, or at least part of it, arrives. “Did you want to keep going?” Technically she did say only one song, which he may or may not point out should she say yes. “Or perhaps get something to drink?”

Gasping as she hears the commotion near Gabriel, Briony comes running. “Oh, everyone is alright then? Oh, it’s just Felicity who got it,” she says, a bit of relief flooding her. The girl sighs a bit, standing around as the scene progresses around her. “Well, ahm. Let’s go dance, Albert,” Briony says quickly, dragging the boy towards the floor, pausing momentarily as she spys an older boy watching her. Unsure of what to make of this, the girl skips more quickly towards the floor, donning a pair of the shoes that have been set out and dancing rather quickly and erraticly.

Saphia Bona nods once more, smiling to Clavicle as she finally steps off the dance floor, gently slipping off her shoes as she does so. Almost instantly, a set of Hogwarts house elves start cleaning the shoes with sprays. (Although not daring to actually touch the shoes, just in case that could count as being given clothing!) When they’re done, the shoes are perfectly clean and ready for the next couple… and Saphia is ever so slightly creeped out. But that’s to be expected. She sidles over to the food table with Clavicle and picks up a jam bun from the table, munching happily on it.

There’s quite a line to dunk the goblin, and Katherine Nichols has plenty of time to bounce back and forth between the line and the snack tables, fetching enough brownies and biscuits for herself and all of the others, plus a handful of Bertie Bott’s Beans deposited in her purse among the Knuts and Sickles. Cheerfully munching on a brownie as she slips back in line next to Alexandra, she rises up on her bare tiptoes to peer up to the front of the line – which is much closer now than it was when she left. “How are they doing?” she asks her friends in general.

Chris Jitsunari nods. “Sure.” He notices her hand, his mind goin hectic for a moment before she drops it. The boy smiles while walking over to the games with her. Eyeing the games he just now registers her comment, “Did you say there’s one where you throw a goblin?”

Kelly Pantall seems entirely out of breath when she slows to a halt, kicking the dancing shoes off and shaking her head firmly – her cheeks are quite pinked with exertion, now. “Oh, I would absolutely love to keep going, Charlie,” she offers, once she gets her breath back. “But I really do need a drink. Perhaps in a few minutes? Once I’ve cooled down again?” She doesn’t move to depart yet, awaiting his response.

Andy Carver‘s gaze slowly wanders to Felicity, standing there and trying to dry herself off. “Sorry.” he calls through the commotion in a miserable tone and turning to Gabriel, who had been really nice at least. “Ahm… yes I’m sure Professor Kensington will help us. I’ll go and call her.” With a last apologetic look Andy turns around and walks over to Professor Kensington. Eased to have a few seconds to think about the whole fuss.

Clavicle Gravely grins as he pulls Saphia along towards the food. “I’m famished. Utterly famished.”

Grabbing a disposable plate, Aisling O‘Cormac piles on some pocket bread, some delicatessan meat, and some other savoury foods, as well as a small, green coloured tart. Glancing around carefully, she clambers under the table with Lenore. Looking to the other girl, she offers her something from her plate. “I hope no one important saw us.” she comments, taking a bite out of a bit of pocket bread.

“Well, not throw exactly, there is a dunk the goblin, where you throw balls to hit the target to dunk it. And I think there is a toss game somewhere.” Both hands are clasped tightly behind her back, as Kara chats with her friend.

Felicity Wexler almost, almost growls when Briony comes charging in only to dismiss her own plight and charge out again. But with almost imperial (and impressive) restraint, she reels in her temper and tries to hold in her glower. Shaking slightly, she offers a strained, but sweet smile to Gabriel and Andy before shaking her head slightly. “It’s nothing that won’t come off in the wash. It’s.. Andy, no, really..” Her voice trembles a little as Andy walks away, however. This had taken a decided turn for the worse, and she felt close to crying. She’s distracted from that feeling, however, by Orion. Feeling his eyes upon her, a slightly embaressed sort of look crosses her expression, before she turns back to her date.

Charlie Linwood nods, then, fairly pink the face himself, “Alright, a drink then.” He quite carefully removes his own set of shoes, and remarks in a somewhat surprised tone, “Feels kind of good to be barefoot after all that.” Hopefully the shoes are self-cleaning, because a lot of boys(though not necessarily Charlie!) have stinky feet. And some of the girls. He moves toward the punch, not minding (or hearing) some whispers as he and presumably Kelly, go past.

Before she leaves, Gabriel has opened his mouth to ask Briony how her day is going, but is left hanging as the girl drags Albert off with her. Watching as Andy goes to fetch the professor, Gabriel looks sympathetically to Felicity, and in a moment of genius, actually thinks to comfort her. “Don’t worry Felicity, we’ll get the punch out. It was my fault, really,” he says, smiling near the end. Having followed her glance, however, Gabriel looks over to Orion, who has been looking oddly at Felicity. “Hey,” Gabriel calls, more curious than anything. “What, uh, what are you looking at her for?”

As Clavicle gets caught up with a Slytherin first year (who really seems to like his tattoos), Saphia wanders over to Orion and Riley, whispering, “Those pictures really are very pretty, sir.” She smiles, not knowing his last name.

Lenore Pantall shrugs vaguely, taking a dainty little bite out of whatever it was she plucked from the table, having paid exactly zero attention to exactly what it was she was grabbing. “We aren’t breaking any rules by hiding under the table,” she whispers. “I just hope no one important saw Kelly dancing with a different Hufflepuff boy.”

“That sounds like fun,” she says and glances out towards the floor as she finally gets a cup of punch. “Oh, my! Look, so many of them are wearing shoes! Is that allowed?” She stares for a moment longer, then realizes that all the shoes seem to match. “Interesting, I wonder where they all got them.” She eats a bit of tart and smiles a bit. “It’s raspberry,” she announces to nobody in particular and proceeds to finish it off quickly. Rather hungry for a girl who has only been throwing balls at a small target. Olivia smiles to Evan as he comments about the cheese. “Do you often have parties like this at your house? I imagine it must be quite crowded.”

Riley Markham shoots Orion a somewhat surly expression, picking up his food and moving to the next table over. “Rude son of a..” His gaze, however, follows the voice calling across the tent toward the older Hufflepuff with a slightly curious look. Just vindictive enough to enjoy watching someone getr their just deserts, Riley turns to look upon Orion with a smug smile. Drawing other people’s dates was sure to have interesting consiquences.

Kelly Pantall certainly does follow Charlie, fanning her face with one hand and pouring herself a generous measure of the pale pink punch. “Ugh. You’re right. Dancing is quite a lot of fun, really, but it’s very tiring and not at all dignified.” Never mind the fact that dancing is supposed to be a very dignified activity, not the exhuberant twirling she was engaged in. “You’re a good dancer and a very nice boy, Charlie.” This random compliment comes entirely out of the blue in between mouthfuls of punch, and is said rather airily and flippantly.

The boy snickers at how silly throwing a goblin in a game sounds. “Yeah, guess that wouldn’t be very nice for the goblins.” Chris nods towards the said game, “Ima have a go at it.” He picks up a ball, lobbing it at the target, getting nowhere near. Chris sratches his head nervously, “Harder than it looks.” His face seeming to fight a pink tint throughout the time, obvious that the 11 year old seems to be fighting nervous streaks. Chris smiles and hands the ball to Kara, “How bout you have a go at it?”

Still happily partaking of the snacks, still surrounded by her fellow third-years, Katherine finally makes it up to the front of the goblin-dunking line, taking her place next to Kara and Chris. She readily hands over several Knuts (and a jellybean or two, mixed in with the other contents of her purse), accepts the balls in return, and winds up to take a throw. She doesn’t have much power behind it, and the ball only brushes the edge of the target, but Katherine is having fun, even if she doesn’t come close to dunking the goblin. Still giggling cheerfully, she moves on to try the next game, her friends close behind.

“Ahm…Sorry Professor Kensington. Would you be kind enough…ahm…you know, Felicity…” Andy points over to his friend. “…has spilled some punch on herself and I thought you could…ahm…maybe cast a cleaning charm on her dress.” Andy looks quite confused, which is reflected by his speech. Nevertheless he looks up to the Professor with a begging expression.

Evan Geroff takes a sip of his punch, nodding afterwards as though pronouncing it worth the wait. “Not this large, but Mother occasionaly likes to entertain people.. perhaps I could have you invited to the next one.” Still sipping punch, he (assuming Olivia is agreeable) begins to find his way through the refreshment crowd and out toward the dance floor. “And that answers the second question – that’s where the shoes came from.”

Aisling O‘Cormac shrugs calmly. “It’s not that I think we’d be breaking any rules, exactly. I just think that people would think it a bit odd, that’s all, hiding under a table.” Turning her mind to Kelly and her strange Hufflepuff companion – strange, because he wasn’t her supposed date, Rafe – she asks surprisedly, “Why? She’d get her comeuppance from that! I mean, she can’t just, well, get away with this.” Peering out from under the table, she gasps quietly. “Hey Lenore?” she asks. “Um, Kelly was wearing green, right? I think that might be her right there!” she points, speaking sotto voce.

Orion Kari lifts his gaze slowly, his movement surprisingly graceful and fluid, not unlike a certain Slytherin girl of the same year on that house’s quidditch team. And for a moment, he meets Gabriel’s eyes with a look that could only be described as momentary irritation. “Sketching,” he answers, simply, before pulling his feet off the chair from in front of him and moving to stand. Passing a glance past his shoulder toward Saphia, he shares with her a decidedly rakish sort of smile, before rising. “Thank you, my lady,” he murmurs, turning toward her so that he can incline his head slightly in a neat half-bow in honor of the Ravenclaw girl, before moving toward the dancefloor. Obviously having chosen to ignore Gabriel.

Kara Raine takes the ball, smiling at Chris. “Okay, thanks, maybe Junior squad practice will have paid off?” Bitting her lower lip, Kara hauls her arm back and throws the ball as hard as she can, hitting the edge of the target, but yet not enough to activate the mechanism. “Oh, did you see, I almost had it Chris! But, my dress robes are the easiest things to throw in, why don’t you try again. I’m sure you can do it.” Grin.

Charlie Linwood blinks slowly over his punch at Kelly, and swallowing ventures: “I’m sorry?” Either he didn’t hear, didn’t understand, or did both and is apologizing, given her tone. Another sip of punch, and he doesn’t respond further than that, looking first at his bare toes(which he wiggles), and then at the punch bowl again, and then over at the games, and then back to Kelly, a quick glance to see if she looks cross.

Riley Markham passes a glance toward Saphia, nodding to her briefly, before shooting a look upon Orion that would be fatal if only looks had the power to kill. Dropping back down in to the seat he had taken, he mutters something horribly unkind about Kari under his breath, before taking up another biscuit and chomping down in to it hard.

Lenore Pantall gasps audibly, cringing further under the table and inching away from Kelly, her face a mask of anger and annoyance. “She can’t do that!” She hisses, folding her arms across her chest – whether she means complimenting a different boy, dancing with a different boy or coming over to Lenore‘s little hidey-hole to get a drink is entirely uncertainly. “She can’t, she can’t – I hope Rafe yells at her!” Oh, what a threat. What a threat.

Clavicle Gravely manages to disengage himself from the first year by pointing her towards Sedgewick and saying in a whisper that the professor is accepting extra credit for guessing the punch contents. he flees back to Saphia

“Well, alright then,” the woman agrees and strides over to where Andy has directed. “Is there some trouble over here? I heard someone was in need of a cleaning charm?” Bonnie glances around and looks to Felicity, whose red dress is augmented by some punch. Directing her wand at the scarlet garment, Bonnie quickly mutters a charm and the dress is dry again. “Anything else I can help you all with?” she asks cheerfully.

Still setting the pace on the dance floor, Eliza doesn’t look like she’s even close to being tired. Even though she looks out over the top of the crowd once in a while, giving the scene a quick, searching glance, her attention is mostly on the music. In and out she spins, grinning broadly – and if Geoffrey is distressed by the fact that the Head Girl seems to be paying more attention to dancing than to him, he does not show it. And for her part, Eliza is content to keep dancing, for as long as the music continues.

Kelly Pantall certainly doesn’t notice Lenore hiding under the table at all, even with the strange threat uttered, and just looks at Charlie with a perplexed expression, head tilted slightly to the left as she inspects him. “You’re a good dancer and a nice boy.” Never mind the earlier venom that came with the word nice when referring to Clementine, now she delivers it rather cheerfully. “A very nice boy, and I think that if it weren’t for your secret, I might almost be interested in you. Almost. Because, you know, I’d still like Rafe better.”

Smiling the boy takes the ball, not really thinking he can, but if she insists. Chris looks at the target, this time actually aiming. He pulls his arm back and throws the ball, actually hitting it, knocking the goblin into the water. The boy turns to Kara smiling, “Guess you were right.”

Aisling O‘Cormac clenches her jaw angrily. “That’s it!” she hisses to Lenore. “She can’t be allowed to be like this! It’s just not fair. I don’t care about how crazy she is, I’m going up there to confront her!” Crawling out from under the table just beside where Kelly and Charlie are standing, she stands, shaking her robes clean, and taps Kelly on the shoulder, then waits for her reaction.

Kara Raine giggles, cheering as the goblin takes a dunk. “See, I told you, you could do it! Nice job Chris! Don’t forget your prize.” Glancing around, Kara looks at some of the other games lined up. “Oh, lets go and try some of the others, well, you can try them and I can cheer for you. See, I told you we were going to have fun at this.” Hands still clasped behind her back, the first year Ravenclaw beams to her friend.

“With all sorts of officials, I imagine,” Olivia comments as they make their way towards the floor. “Oh, my, so that’s where the shoes came from. Do you think they’re clean?” she asks and looks down at them, ignoring the fact that her own feet could not be less sanitary than the shoes. “I imagine my parents wouldn’t protest a party with Ministry officials, especially since my dad works there.” She nods resolutely and sets her punch glass down, then leans down to put shoes on, disregarding how clean they are or are not.

Charlie Linwood chokes a bit and then coughs a lot(and blushes a fair amount but he’s just turning red from the choking, honest!!) and then stares at Kelly and then as if it is the only thing he can think of, “I’m not nice, you know.” Then he coughs some more, throat ticklish from the choking as of yet, and then stares at the strange little girl from his House who just… came out from under the table? Charlie just plain gapes. There’s something wrong with the girls at this school tonight, that’s for certain.

Felicity Wexler blushes as Professor Kensington arrives to clean her up with simple flick of her wand, Felicity murmurs an embaressed “thank you” and shakes her head. Gabriel’s shout across the room to Orion, however, catches her attention, making her go somewhat wide-eyed and bringing a whole new shade of scarlet to her cheeks. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth and looking fairly small, she honestly wasn’t sure what to do at this point. She felt in over her head for the first time since arriving.

“Probably self-cleaning,” Evan comments, slipping a pair on himself before reaching for her hand. “I’ll send Mother an owl about it.” It’s only then that he notices the shoes have changed to match the occasional ‘star’ on his robes. “Well, will you look at that.”

Clavicle says, “Saphia.. What’s going on over here? And thanks for setting that first year on me. I think that was that girl with the Sign… I swear if she shows up at our quidditch… I’ll be cross.” he chuckles “Riley…you look cross, what’s going on?”"

Clavicle Gravely ‘s question is not accusatory…but concerned

Kelly Pantall nods her head firmly, observing, “Right. Nice is a really awful word. It implies you have no spine.” She almost sounds like she’s quoting someone for a moment, before her eyes widen in alarm. “Gosh, Charlie, are you alright? Don’t die, please, it’d be just my luck to have my only friend up and die on me when I dance with th – what?” She whirls on Aisling, folding her arms in annoyance. “My friend’s dying, I have no time for this.”

Saphia Bona smiles to Clavicle as he wands back up and smiles, but quickly defends herself, “Oh, it wasn’t my faulty Leonard pounced on you, he’s been wanting to do so all evening. The worst you can fairly accuse me of it deserting you, Clavicle.” She pauses a second, and then whispers, “And, erm, sorry about that.”

Lenore Pantall crawls out from under the table, her cheeks flushed pink with embarassment, her eyes downturned. She tugs on Aisling’s sleeve, not daring to speak, but her expression speaking for her – this isn’t a good idea, really. Plus, her eyes flicker up at Charlie in a mixture of concern and horror, apparently believing wholeheartedly that he actually is dying. In the middle of the social. Some people are so inconsiderate.

Weaving in between couple after couple sharing the large dance floor (which seems surprisingly small now, all thing considered), Orion Kari seems to float through the crowd with a purpose. Pulling a page free from his sketch book as he moves, he makes a point to walk (not by, or around, but..) between Albert and Briony on his way to the tent’s rear exit. His movement one that would seem all to cassual, if not somewhat careless. As he passes, though, he drops the parchement with the sketches he’d been working on. Letting the sheif drift to the Gryffindor girl’s feet.

Rolling her eyes, Aisling glares at the older girl in front of her. “Your friend isn’t dying. And, well, it’d probably be good news for you anyway if he did, because then your date couldn’t kill him for being stupid enough to dance with you!” Having said all of this hardly without breathing, she pauses to take a breath, and notices Lenore’s appearance. Too late to stop her, she’s on a roll now.

“They’ve got flowers on them, just like my gloves, look!” Olivia points out with a laugh, only marvelling a small bit a them. “Let’s get out there before it’s full,” she comments, and indeed the floor seems to be quickly filling up, especially with older students. The girl giggles and stands, momentarily, in the dominant position, blushing a bit as she drops her arms, shocked that she had done such a thing. After all, Helen and Gertrude always made her dance as the boy. She waits for Evan to make his way onto the floor to join her.

Charlie Linwood may be dying, but it is more because his brain has turned into a lump of vegetable mush than because she startled him into choking on his punch. Very, very slowly her alarm registers and it’s in something of a vague, detatched voice that he says, “Not dying.” Sentances apparently having escaped his particular level of thought processing right about now. To Aisling, “Fr…” another cough, “We’re friends.” Here comes his cross face, though not necessarily any level of coherance, “I’m not stupid.” He doesn’t sound in particular smart.

“Rafe’s not going to kill Charlie!” This is obviously the most important part of the whole matter, as Kelly responds to this most indignantly, uncrossing her arms and planting her hands firmly on her hips. “He might, you know, attack him a little but he wouldn’t kill him. That would be murder.” Oh. Poor, poor Charlie. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just dancing, dancing is fine – if it was any more than dancing it would be bad but it’s not! We’re just friends, and I was being considerate.” She peers around vaguely, apparently wondering where her date actually is.

Riley Markham rolls his eyes somewhat, the banter between Saphia and Clavicle doing little to ease his irritation. Jealousy was terrible mistress. Still, he manages to swallow it as best he can, laying back in his seat with an irritated sort of look. “That Kari prat,” he hisses. “Rudest sod I’ve ever met. Great, terrible bast–” A small gurgle from his stomach, however, catches Riley off guard, pausing him in mid-sentance. Placing his left hand over his belly with a slightly odd expression, he makes a little face and mutters something to himself before reaching up to crack open on of the butterbeer bottles he’d won earlier.”

Saphia Bona pauses, and whispers a second or two after Riley finishes his sentence, “Riley… weren’t you going to be here with someone?” She asks, confused and concerned.

As Briony‘s dancing is interrupted, she stops and stares. “How rude,” she comments rather blandly, watching the older Hufflepuff make his way through the crowds of dancers and drops the bit of parchment. “Oh, no, he dropped this.” She leans down to pick up the sheaf and stands straight again. “Albert, you don’t mind if I take it to him, do you? Here, you can dance with Kalynn, if you want. Kalynn! Dance with Albert, won’t you? Fantastic!” The girl grins and trots off to try to return the sheaf to Orion.

Clavicle Gravely hmms. “Right. Well Riley…you are here. you have to dance.” he grins and goes to pull Riley up. “Come on then.”

Aisling O‘Cormac almost snorts at Kelly’s last point. “Considerate?” she queries, “How, considerate? Would not staying with your date, or even knowing where he is be considerate? You were being selfish, and probably inherently nasty, too, by dancing with another boy, regardless or not of whether he was aware of your motives!” Having said what is at the forefront of her mind, she continues, “And how DARE you prattle on about serial killers, scaring people, especially your sister-” there we go, her famous subtlety at work again “-into being small and scared of new things, people, places, and social events, because they could be caught by a killer! It’s just so foolish! And small-minded of you.” she huffs, pulling hard on one of her tightly-wound plaits.

“He’s allowed to go where he wants without me keeping tabs on him!” Kelly retorts angrily, apparently resenting the fact that someone else has noticed that she actually doesn’t know where her date is right now. “If Rafe wants to wander off he can – and dancing with Charlie doesn’t count as dancing with another boy!” Someone should have warned Charlie that she simply can’t keep secrets. However, to her credit, she at least doesn’t expand on this point any further before whirling around to face the Hufflepuff boy again. “You’re not really dying, are you? You’re going to be alright, yeah?”

The boy and his friend go around to various games, winning a few, losing a few. Chris‘s stomach growls and he smiles nervously to Kara, “Let’s get some food.” She agrees as they walk to the food tables, Chris picks up a few items of food. As he snacks he notices all the commotion, two of the people involved he recognizes as fellow housemates. Muttering, “I wonder what’s got them all angry.”

Riley Markham almost chokes on his butterbeer with Saphia’s query, gagging and coughing as the amber liquid leaks briefly from the corners of his mouth. “Ah, that! Er, well, you see,” Riley mutters, meekly, wheezing for breath, brushing his mouth off on his sleeve and scracthing the tip of his nose with his scarred index finger. “I, er… she, well, got dumped, eh? Decided she wan’d tah go with some older Slytherin prat.. Ah, so, er… S’alright, eh. I, er… what?” Riley‘s eyes bug slightly as Clavicle starts to pull him up, moving almost immediately to shake the boy off. Not violently, but fairly adimantly. “If you think I’m dancing with you, yer a lark! Even under that femina-felto potion, yer.. well, not my type, eh?”

Clavicle says, “Come come …I’ve never known a Markham to be a coward…rise to the challenge then. Off to the floor with you.” he grins. “And not JUST me…you prat. Bopth of us…. go on.”"

Aisling O‘Cormac looks confused for a moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Charlie is a boy. You were dancing with him. How does this not count as dancing with another boy, hm? And what about the serial killer stuff? You haven’t denied a single thing about it, but I doubt that you’re sorry in the slightest! The prefects were right to take those books away from you, you’re too socially dangerous!” Glaring at Kelly, she spares a moment for a side glance to Lenore, who looks like she wishes she wasn’t there. “Sorry, Lenore,” she whispers to the girl beside her. Facing back to Kelly, she straightens her back, making her all of five foot tall, and continues to galre.

Charlie Linwood apparantly has the presence of mind to say, “You’re the one who said I’d be killed… and I don’t think Kate could possibly make her sister short.” Charlie‘s voice is a mix between cross and utterly confused, and after a moment, he says, “She isn’t–” and he chokes on the air this time, wheeling on Kelly, “Ssssshhhhhh!” is hissed, and then, all his senses returning with the near escape of certain secrets, “I’m not going to die but I’m… not going to be alright, either.” Here he actually stamps his foot, which is ridiculous and ineffectual, since they’re outside and barefoot. “You should be with DeWitt. Not me.” Color rises into his cheeks again, and his face twists up oddly. “Not me.”

Kelly Pantall seems utterly confused for a moment, whirling around to face Aisling, then back to face Charlie, then back to face Aisling again, then steps back and glares at both of them in turn. “I’m not socially dangerous! And, well,” she seems on the brink of sharing Charlie’s secrets for real when she turns to glare at him again. “I can’t even pay you a stinking compliment, and you go on a crazy rampage as if I was trying to woo you! I HAVE A BOYFRIEND, CHARLIE! I’M NOT INTERESTED IN YOU!” This particularly loud and high-pitched point made, she whirls around and storms away. Whether her point actually makes sense in context is entirely uncertain. She certainly thinks it does.

Orion Kari had just stepped beyond the aft exit of the tent when Briony catches up to him. His hands buried in his pockets, his sketchbook tucked under one arm, he seems distinctly bored. His gaze shifts skyward, as the light dwindles and the stars begin to twinkle and shine. Not seeming to notice Briony’s following him, he meanders his way toward the small cliff overlooking the southeast, his movements slow and paced, despite the damp weather outside the tent.

Aisling O‘Cormac stares after Kelly as she storms off. “She didn’t get it.” she says calmly. Turning to Lenore, she says once more, “She didn’t even get it! Is she a little bit.. well, backwards, or something?! Because I thought it was pretty clear!” Tugging on one of her plaits, she looks cross.

Lenore Pantall shakes her head silently, shrugging her shoulders lightly. When she does speak, it is at that same barely audible tone, as if she is afraid of being overheard. “She never gets the point.” There is an edeg of sympathy in her voice – though, from context, probably more sympathy for Aisling and Charlie than for Kelly. “I’m sorry, Mister.” She directs to Charlie, her eyes downturned. “Kelly’s a bit weird.”

“Wait! Wait up!” Briony calls, running after him carefully, unused to being barefoot. “You there!” She trots a bit faster, trying to catch up with him. “You dropped this… this paper!” she tells him and shakes it in his direction. Bri has not taken the time to look at exactly what the sheet has on it, but she figures it must be something important. She finally catches up to him, a bit breathless and holds it out to him, putting one hand on her stomach as if to still her breathing. “You dropped this,” she tells him, her breathing rough.

Charlie Linwood is riled up, and shouts after her, “You know good and well I’m not interested in you, either, Pantall!” His voice raises as the distance increases, “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO CAN’T SAY ANYTHING NORMALLY!” he remains rooted to the spot for a moment and then, forgetting to decrease his volume, “She’s not weird!!” Another stamping of the foot, and he storms off in an opposite direction, muttering darkly to himself and making a few first year girls squeal and run out of his way.

Riley Markham blinks, momentarily having to decide between popping Clavicle for slighting his pride and proving his housemate right by turning tail and running like a frightened little girl. Well, discression is the better part of valor. “Leg’go, you silly snake,” Riley says, wrenching his arm free with great effort, before flickering his gaze toward Saphia then back to Clavy. “Later, al’ight?” He says, with a weary sort of chuckle, digging his way out of things. “Yer dates tired, eh? And hungry. S’might be a good time fer us to make like gentlemen and fetch her some food and punch?” Of course, he hasn’t bothered to look if either actually already have food. At this point, he’s playing last line defenses.

Saphia Bona smiles, and comes to Riley’s aid, “Clavicle, I’ve had that jam bun. You sure you don’t want to come with me and point out which of those butterbeer bottles have the repelling charm on them?”

Clavicle Gravely grins a bit. “Sure. I will go and fetch some food.” he turns and walks to the food table and snags a tray and is happy as a lark when suddenly he crouches. A shadowy form beside the table, house elf size…whispers something to him and he blinks. Clavicle nods and takes something…wrapped in red silk from the elf, and carefully folds it into his pocket. The Elf then skirts back to the shadows. He stands, his tray forgotten for a few long moments as the boy merely thinks. He then shrugs as he takes up the tray and continues collecting things for he and his friends.

Orion Kari pauses just at edge of the small cliff, glancing back over his shoulder toward the shouts of the second-year Gryffindor so seriously attempting to call his attention. The thin, misty moisture in the air adding a shimmer to his olive-skinned features in the reflected light of the sunset behind them. “Yes, I did,” he whispers, simply, though he makes no move to pull his hands from his pockets or retrieve the parchment. The notebook, and the sheif of paper in Briony’s hand seem completely unmindful of the dampness about, as if the thin rain were unable to touch them.

Riley Markham flops back down in to his chair with obvious relief, clapping his hands over his face and muttering something unintelligable in to them, before giving a great and lengthy sigh.

As Clavicle starts returning, Saphia‘s found a chair a little ways away from Riley, having decided to give him lots of space tonight. She simply sat at one of the tables, watching the room thin out a little as the night starts coming to a close. It was a lot of fun. More fun than she thought it’d be. As Clavicle gets back to her, she smiles gratefully to him. “Cheers.” She whispers.

Clavicle Gravely grins. “So lets get a butterbeer in us then we can go check out the games.” he grins “I can show tyou how to spin toss the ring which counteracts the bounce charm.

“He-here it is,” she tells him and holds it out to him. “I thought you might want it.” Briony is very obviously taken aback by Orion’s demeanor. Her eyes are a bit wide and she has her arm fully extended to hand him the parchment. She reaches up and smooths her hair a bit, hoping that the mist is not ruining it, then smooths her dress somewhat self-consciously, as if she had always been so conscious of how she looked.

Riley Markham rubs at his eyes briefly, as though nudging the sleep from them before lifting his head with a small smile toward Clavicle. Genuine, even. Reaching up before the boy has set the tray down, he snatches up a roll of amoriare meat and chomps down in it with a small smirk. “Seems like she’s coming along well, eh, my gran?” His tone is somewhat dubious, though he is clearly impressed. “People seem to be take to her, this here went over well.” He lets his thought trail off as he turns his gaze absently aside, staring off at nothing in particular. That third-wheel feeling creeping up on him again.

Clavicle says, “She’s brilliant” he grins at Riley. “If only she’d run interference with my crazy grandmother so I won’t get anymore howlers about violins.” he sighs. He grins at Saphia and grins his grin which shows he has a secret.”

Saphia Bona smiles at Clavicle and accepts one of the bottles of butterbeer, and begins walking over toward the games, letting Clavicle and Riley have a conversation without her.

Orion Kari turns very slowly on his bare feet to face Briony, a small, low smile touching his curious lips. A faint whisper of something more, begging to be seen, to be drawn out. With all the charisma and allure of as might be portrays by a muggle actor in one of their moving pictures, Orion draws a step closer to Briony. Followed by another, and another, until his chest nearly touches her extended hand bearing the parchment. “It was mine, now it’s your own. A gift,” he whispers, quietly. His tone full and rich, and just a hint amused. “A reward for one of my evening’s muse. The fairest by far.”

“Brilliant might be a stretch,” Riley mutters, accepting a butterbeer as well and cracking it open with a satisfied sort of sound (especially since he had spilled a fairly large portion of the one he had been drinking before). “But she’s doing well. It bothers me, though. It just seems so.. wrong.”

“O– oh,” Briony answers, obviously taken in by his charm and charisma. She almost feels herself swooning as she turns her face downward — almost regretfully — to look at the drawings that he has gifted to her. Upon it are drawings of not just herself, but Felicity as well, very good drawings, depicting them in various scenarios and moods. “Oh my,” she breathes, almost as if she doesn’t blieve in the situation. “Is this really what my dressrobes look like,” the girl asks rather breathlessly as he looks up at him, eyes wide.

Clavicle says, “You just got to realize Riley…having her here is one of the best things that could happen…and really, she cares about you… and it’s proof positive there’s greatness in your bloodline.” he shrugs and trots off to meet Saphia at the rings”

Felicity Wexler having watched Orion and Briony sneak away, Felicity can’t help but follow. Curiousity alone would have pulled her, even if it weren’t for her small awe at the momentary attention she’d recieved from the rather handsome young man. Excusing herself for the lavatory while Gabriel and Nate continue chatting, Felicity ducks through the thinning crowd, slipping out the rear entrance of the tent quietly, only having to glance about briefly to find her cousin and the older Hufflepuff standing some distance off. And it’s a sight that catches her breath. “He’s beautiful,” she murmurs, to no one other than herself, as she watches the exchange. Far enough away that she can only barely hear what’s being said over the ambient noise radiating from the tent.

“Alright,” Saphia remarks as Clavicle pulls up beside her, “Show me how to do this…”

“Oh, no, blossom,” Orion murmurs softly, his voice falling from his lips like rich honey song. “No, I’m afraid not.” A coy, almost fierce look touches his deep, mahagony eyes as he leans in close to Briony. Close enough that perhaps from Felicity’s view, it might almost seem as though he were kissing the second-year holding the parchment. “For I am a meager artist, weak and poor. Unable to capture the true beauty of my muse.” His breath near enough to taste for that moment, like fruit. “Your dress, and the beauty donning it, are much more stunning than my quill can ever capture.” And without another word, he rises back to his full height and moves to walk away, head back in the direction of the castle. Humming, quietly.

Clavicle Gravely nods and shows her how to spin the ring which looks like it will make the ring miss. But instead…it reverses the repellant charm and the ring sticks to the first bottle. He looks at her as the goblin scowls, “A Gravely… you may not play this game!” it rudely states!

Saphia Bona blinks at the goblins rudeness, and whispers back, “How dare you! Just because he could actually win, you ban him playing? Well, well, that’s very smart. I suppose. But very unfair!”

Riley Markham exhales a small, almost bitter sigh, before leaning back in his chair. Clavicle had a point, and he knew it, though he didn’t really want to ponder that. The crowd continues to thin as Riley sits there, waiting and waiting. Being the only boy on the events committee, he’d been contracted to help clean up. Pull chairs about and the like.

Clavicle Gravely grins and takes the goblin banning in stride. “Oh no it’s alright…I can just go teach everyone this trick…” the goblin scopwls at Saphia, but doubly so at Clavicle. “Alright…you can play once…IF you stay quiet.” it grumpily states and sits back scowling. “Try it Saphia.” he grins… Obviously his family has dealt with Goblins before.

Staring in awe as the older boy makes his way back to the castle, Briony turns and watches him, then takes several steps, as if to ask him more questions, to bask in his glory. She stops short, though, coming into a sliver of light and gazing down at the parchment in sheer amazement. Was that really her? Of course, she paid little attention to the drawings of Felicity, but focussed entirely on those of herself in awe and amazement.

Saphia Bona attempts it… and sends a hoop spinning wildly and far too powerfully. It pings off one of the bottles, flies upward into the goblin’s head, and by pure chance lands on one of the butterbeer bottles perfectly. Saphia rejoices with a delighted squeek and asks, “Does that mean I win a prize?”

Clavicle Gravely grins and looks at the goblin. The goblin shoves a stuffed dragon of Mauve fabric “I hope you both choke on it!” he states as he closes the shutters. Clavicle laughs, “They hate losing.”

Saphia Bona smiles, taking her dragon with her, and whispers to Clavicle, aware now that they’re one of the few couples left. “Thank you, Clavicle. I had a wonderful time tonight. You’re a perfect gentlemen.” As nice a compliment as it is, it’s a hint that the night is over.

Felicity Wexler watches Orion walk away, exhaling a breath she’d not realized she’d been holding. And it’s only once he is fully out of view that she bursts foward, her bare feet slapping at the loose soil (for once) without regard for the small flesh of mud and moisture that slap up on to her skirt. Without a word, she makes a snatch for the parchment, attempting to lice it from Briony’s hand while she’s distracted. A flush of anger touching her face. How could she have gotten something, when the boy had been looking at her?! “What’s that, huh?!”

Clavicle Gravely nods “Shall I escort you back?

“Hey now, he gave it to me! Don’t be grabby, Felicity,” Briony snaps, quickly turning so that Felicity can’t take it from her. “Why don’t you go back to your date?” the girl suggests, scowling a bit as she remembers just who Felicity’s date is. Bri does not look at all pleased. “Anyway, it’s mine and he gave it to me, and if I could get your ugly face off of it, I would.” She hmphs and starts walking back towards the tent to find her own date, who she has hoisted off on her friend Kalynn for the time being.

Saphia Bona smiles, but shakes her head. “I’m going to help Riley pack up. I don’t think he’s had a good a night as we have. But you go on, OK? I’ll be back later for a game of Wizo-Chess.” She makes her offer, smiling her best, and leans over, giving Clavicle a tiny peck on the cheek.

Riley Markham pushes his himself up finally, noting that only a few stragglers and house-elves remain — those couples to involved in games or snogging to care that the night has ended, or those scattered adults still chittering and chatting aimlessly about whatever it is that adults talk about. Taking up the rubbish that Clavicle and Saphia left behind when they went to go play games, Riley sighs and bins it, before manually helping move chairs across the room for house-elves to vanish.

Clavicle says, “Right.” he looks uncertain, As if he should argue, but when he gets the peck on the cheek he grins stupidly. “Right…wizo-chess.” he wanders hogwarts-ward. “Chess…with Wizo’s.” he nods.”

Though Briony holds it tightly enough to keep her from stealing it, she can’t prevent Felicity from seeing it that moment they’ve both got hold of it. “Hey, I’m on it, too! Those are–HEY!” The third-year’s eyes narrow and she gives a great sort of huff, watching Briony head back toward the tent with a sudden flare of anger. “You, you, you! You ugly brat!” She spits, but having noticed that her “date” seems to have offended Briony, rather than get beat up by the physically superior girl, she decides to fully launch the emotional artillery. And without another word, she seeks out Gabriel again, putting on her extra-cute face.

Saphia Bona walks over to Riley as he packs up, and shows him the new dragon doll she got, which yawns noiselessly as it curls up in her arms. “Wanna name it?” She grins to him as she places the dragon on a table and picks up a chair, helping stack it on top of a second one, upside down.

“Don’t, Felicity! We don’t need to lose more points for Gryffindor just because you’re a stupid, jealous bratface!” Briony huffs into the tent, pausing once inside, to try to calm herself. Somehow, the magic of the moment has been ruined for her, and she now just wants to go upstairs and get out of her dress. “Albert, is it alright if I go up to my commons now,” she asks her date quietly, holding the sheet casually at her side. He agrees and the two of them stride up to the castle and disappear through the entrance.

Riley Markham goes to a great, great length to pretend he saw no kiss on the cheek a moment before pass between one of his housemates to another. Nope, he didn’t see anything of the sort out of the corner of his eye, oh no. Not at all. Though he hardly seems surprised when Saphia comes over. “How ’bout Grav–” He starts, a slightly bitter tone in his voice which he catches almost immediately, spawning a cringe and a small shake of his head. Reaching out to take up her chairs, he adds them to his own and starts across the room. “Robert?”

Saphia Bona nods, and agrees immediately, “Robert, then. He’s now officially a boy.” The dragon sleeps, it’s belly exposed and just dying to be ticked. “You turned her down, didn’t you?” Saphia whispers, incredibly quietly. “When she asked you out. You turned her down.”

Felicity Wexler lingers quite a bit longer with Gabriel than Briony, wanting to make her point. But eventually she and her date retire to the common rooms as well, though Felicity seems more tired now than amused. At least her feet didn’t hurt from wearing uncomfortable boots.

Darius Dwight sighs as the night starts coming to a close. He’s not really sure what to do now. Usually he’s never around once the party ends. Responsibilities, he thinks to himself. Reluctantly, he begins packing up the instruments.

“S’ah good name, eh? S’my dad’s. I wonder how he’s doing?” Riley muses, setting the chairs aside, which the house-elf in front of him promptly vanishes with a poof of smoke. Saphia’s question, however, draws a long sigh from Riley and he turns on his naked heel (tearing a small divot in the grass as his jagged scars tug at the soil). “That’s silly, ‘phia. Got dumped, like I said.” But Riley is naturally a notoriously bad liar. It follows through in to every part of him, including how moved pick up the next few chairs.

Saphia says, “C’mere,” Saphia whispers, dragging Riley away from his chair stacking duties. She tugs him to the one last assembled piece of the tent — the dance floor. Even the shoes have been packed up, and the instruments were a while ago. “One more dance, Riley. Please?”"

Riley Markham pauses, briefly, before finding himself pulled away from his cleaning duties. He was, quite naturally, strong enough to pull away. But something about her tugging, her insistance, broke his will to resist, and once they reach the dance floor and he turns to face her. Something inside his eyes, something across his features, changes. It’s one of those moments, more magical than anything that can be created with a wand. All the torture and frustration of the evening seem to slip away. The pain and the weariness from his illness, the stress of quidditch practice and school work.. It all fades from his eyes, as he looks at her. It may be just a kind gesture, it may be something more. In the long run, it really doesn’t matter, because was Riley looks down upon her in that moment, she’s the only thing in his world. “You sure?” He asks, quietly, and somewhat nervously, as he takes a step closer to her. Moving his arms somewhat hesitantly, as though to mimic what he had seen being down earlier. “Your date might not like it.” The faint smile warming his lips, though, whispers of humor in those words. Something to gently combat the small flush of nervousness running across him.

Sighing, Saphia simply holds one of Riley’s hands as they dance, letting his arm wrap around her gently. Much as with Clavicle, she’s not pressed against her dance partner, nor does she let Riley get away with anything. She’s just a dance partner, and a friend. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you finish speaking, I was just so happy to hear you’d been asked, and happy for me. I was selfish. I thought I’d been handed a solution to all my problems, and I didn’t think of your feelings once. I’m so sorry, Riley.”

Riley Markham chuckles, not daring enough to pull her close or try anything untoward. His heart is brilliantly racing even with this — dancing was somewhat frightening to him, despite it’s excitement. Simply being this close was enough to make him sweat slightly. His lead is fairly off, and his sway is a bit wonky. He really is the sort more suited to throwing punches than leading a dance. But never the less, there he is. His expression softens, and for the first time in a very long time, the unguarded, unangered, unpained image of Riley shimmers forth. “Yeah, well..” He whispers, bowing his head a little. “It wasn’t very fair of me, either. And it made things easier on you, so.. I’m sorry, for.. putting pressure on you, I guess.” And he was sorry, though he wasn’t entirely sure what for. He had no way of quantifying his feelinsg, whatever they were. He knew he had been jealous, and he knew he had been a royal pain. It just.. Quietly, in a voice unshrouded by dry it or dark humor, he asks, “Is it strange, that.. after everything that happened last year, I want to be around you and help protect you?” And honestly, he didn’t know the answer. He hardly knew the question. But he’d figure it out eventually.

Saphia Bona is silent, and has no way to answer that question. She doesn’t understand it either. But then she does have one, and she smiles, “I want to help you too, Riley. I know I can’t help you against Dark Wizards, or even the headmistress.” She smiles shyly, “But … anything I can help with, I want to. Don’t ever feel shy about asking me for anything.” She pauses, just dancing a little more in the silence. “Have you started your transfiguration homework?” She asks, suddenly.

Riley Markham can’t help but smile, as his gaze lifts to meet her own. His deep, dust-green eyes soft. Soft in a way that few people ever got to see. He’d been about to inform her that she had, actually, helped defend him against a dark wizard — or at least one they thought was dark at the time, or that she was forever helping him with his gran without ever trying. Her question tailing it, however, catches him completely off guard and he starts so greatly that he almost proceeds to pick Saphia up and drop her again. “Bloody hell, no! I’ve been to busy with this mess! DAMN IT!” His eyes wide and weary again, and looking somewhat flustered, he grips her hand with his left, scarred one (to flustered to notice), gripping it gently and tugging her almost immediately toward the exit of the tent. “I’ll flunk this midterm if I don’t pass this, com’on!” Romance, budding or nonexistant as it may be, forgotten in the wake of crisis. And the house-elves snicker.

Saphia Bona spins away as Riley dashes for his homework, and smiles at just how hopeless Riley is. And she finishes packing up the chairs for him.

Melvina Prichard watches from the far corner of the room, having been forgotten by all but the house-elves. Many of whom show up at Saphia’s side to deal with the chairs for her, ushering her on. And Melvina can’t help but grin. Her husband would have been proud.

Noémie Ribouet stands in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, her broom in hand. Her hair is pulled back from her face and fastened somehow to the back of her head. The box of Quidditch balls sits nearby, as well as a few extra Quaffles laying about on the ground. It is a cool day, and the sky is clear as the new captain waits for her housemates to show up for Trials, deciding that there couldn’t be better weather for the start of their season.

Dolly Faeden strides to the pitch with her head held high, of course broomless. The girl looks around at all the older students and her expression, for a moment, quails. She is allowed to try, isn’t she? She comes to rest near Noémie and gives the captain a small, somewhat nervous smile. Clavicle is spotted and, should she catch his eye, a bigger smile surfaces.

David follows the other Ravenclaws, chatting with the older members of the team. He carries his Moontrimmer on his left shoulder, confident enough to make the team once again this year, and considerably less scared to do than he was last year. As he arrives on the pitch, he stops near the team captain, and gives her a nod and a smile.

Saphia Bona steps out with Clavicle and Riley, looking hideously nervous and worried. What was she thinking? She’s no quiditch player. She knows she isn’t. Why on earth was she even trying out for this? This was going to be a disaster.

Clavicle Gravely Waves to Dolly when he sees her and then walks over to Saphia and whispers to her, “I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry.” he nods his head lower. “Please forgive me.”

Kara Raine wanders in with a large group of first years, but when they divert to head toward the stands, she pauses, and heads over onto the pitch instead. Sliding up by Dolly, she nods to those around her. “I know I am a first year, but I heard something about a junior squad, so.” She too is broomless, but, quickly pulls her hair back with a ribbon, looking eager and interested.

Riley Markham follows Saphia, Clavicle, David and the rest on to the field with a small yawn — though conpared to his usual self, he seems bit more awake and alert than he has for the last few days. Still, he’s rather pointedly avoiding Saphia’s gaze, and seems to have something else on his mind as he twirls his black beater’s bat from a leather string on his wrist.

“Alright, first years, make sure you’ve got brooms. The broom shed is just over there — I’m sure you know that already — so secure a broom then queue up right over here.” Noémie waves her arm in the direction of the area where she’d like them to gather. “Everyone else, I’d like Keepers to queue right here, Chasers over here, and Beaters over here. If you were thinking of coming out for Seeker, I must apologise and ask you to take your place in another area or head back to the commons, for I will be playing Seeker again this season.” Noémie pauses and lets out a little giggle. “I’m sorry, alright, gather up everyone!” Noémie watches taking her broom up in her hand and holding it at her side while the Ravenclaws situate themselves.

Saphia Bona huffs a little at Clavicle, but finds it hard to stay angry at people and whispers, “I can’t believe you thought I’d keep a grudge at you for that, Clavicle. I’m a better person tha– oh.” Saphia‘s heart falls as Noémie makes her announcement, and she stops dead in her tracks. “Well, anyway, people. I… I’d better head back and… study.”

Clavicle Gravely frowns a bit as he shrugs and heads over to the chaser line of things. He shrugs, knowing he has at least 2 more years to wait before he can try for seeker. He snags Saphia’s arms and drags her over to the chaser side of things. “Not today… you are trying out.” he grins at her. “Don’t count yourself out.”

Dolly Faeden pipes up before heading to get her brook, “What about Seeker for the firs’ year team?” She doesn’t hold any delusions of making the team, and in fact, after she has trotted over to the shed and found the least wobbly looking broom, hovers uncertainly. “Do we needtae line up with everyone else?” She tilts her head somewhat to the side, eyebrows raised curiously.

David ignores the discussions going on around him and concentrates on the tryout. He, however, smiles at Riley and Saphia as he notices them in the crow, waves to them, and walks to line up with the Chasers.

Listening intently as the Captain tosses out instructions, Kara glances over toward the shed, and then the waiting area. Once given the go a head, the first year dances over toward the shed, spending a good few minutes trying to find the broom she has used before. With a grin, it is quickly snatched up and place is resumed where Noémie indicated. “Dolly, I think we are suppose to, line up over here I mean. So you like Seeker? I can’t decide between Seeker or Chaser myself.”

Riley Markham glances to Saphia briefly, then flickers his eyes toward Clavicle with a look that is perhaps a bit sharper that is truly nessicarily, before muttering something somewhat vague about Saphia potentially being a decent chaser before moving to place himself in the beater line. His Windwalker S-series broom slung over his shoulder lazily.

Saphia Bona is dragged, despite protests of ‘but I’ll never be any good at chaser!’ into the chaser line, picking up a broom along the way. As she stands there for a moment, she looks around, looking very much like a frightened deer, caught in the hunter’s nets. She’s gone before she’s even in the air.

Clavicle Gravely smirks. “And you said you could never do charms either…but you do excellent there. And if you make the team.. Riley over there will be twice as good at beating things…so take one for the team and try Eh?

“No, no, you first years just stay in your own queue. You’ll try out with everyone else, but I’d like you all to try everything.” Noémie smiles patiently at Dolly and glances around as the others gather in the areas that she had designated. “Alright, we’ll start with the chasers and keepers. First years, come over here and join us. Alright, everyone put your brooms down. Yes, on the ground.” She steps over and picks up the Quaffles, one by one, tossing them to the Chaser candidates. “Alright, you’re now going to toss them back and forth to one another, while you run down the pitch, and when you reach the end, one of our lovely keeper candidates will attempt to block the shot from the shorter hoops I’ve set up. We’ll get in the air in just a bit. Alrigt, keepers, head down that way, and Chasers, first years, two lines please, balls in one line.”

Dolly Faeden murmurs in an undertone to Kara, “I dunnae, really. I’ve ne’er done more than ride a broom, but Seeker seems interestin’. Either that or Beater.” She doesn’t really look like the type, but a sly grin and then –”Aye!” to Noémie as she moves with the other first years who are more or less better at discerning exact meanings without questions. She frowns a little bit but discards her broom, staying close to Kara.

Riley Markham turns a rather fabulous shade of scarlet as he shoots back a glare past his shoulder toward Clavicle. A flush that he desperately tries to hide by immediately snapping his gaze back as if he hadn’t looked toward he and Saphia at all. No one can claim Riley a master of subterfuge, that’s for certain. “Like you’re head, Clavy! Shut it.” The bite to his words half-fire, half-mutter. Shifting his attention, he focuses himself on Noémie with a resolute expression, dropping his broom down lazily.

Clavicle says, “Why Riley? Want me to lose the House 50 points for stupidity?”

Kara Raine smiles at Dolly, “Seeker is, interesting, but you have to be fast with a quick eye, come on, they are lining up.” Reaching up to make sure her hair is secured behind her head, Kara practically skips over into line, dropping her broom to the ground before she gets there. Grinning at Dolly and the first year before her, it is only then that turns to nod toward the chaser candidate opposite her.

David walks towards Saphia, trying to reassure her that everything would be all right. “Saphia… don’t worry, I was scared last year, too, and look, I made the team. So it’s not that difficult at all.” he whispers to her, before looking back at Noémie. The boy is getting a bit impatient to start the trials and to see if the backyard flying he did during the summer would yield some improvement to his way of playing.

“Quiet! The only talking I want to hear is communication between you all about what your next motion is going to be,” Noémie snaps quickly looking at all of the students queued. “Alright, GO!” she calls, waving her arm towards the end of the pitch where the first keeper has only just gotten in place. “Quickly now, quickly! Pass that ball!” She watches with a quick eye, trying to see who passes the ball most efficiently and communicates best with his or her teammates. “Alright, next team go, don’t run over the ones up that away, quick! Quick, quick quick!” Noémie seems to have become a bit redfaced with the yelling, and her wavt hair is starting to loosen itself from where she fastened it.

Saphia Bona ‘s heart sinks yet again. “I’m done for…” she whispers. “I’m not even going to get on my broom.” She gets in line and waits until she gets in her turn, and then runs down the field. As she gets the quaffle early on, she attempts a rudimentary tactic by slowing her running as they approach the keeper, and then a quick pass to the opposite chaser… but her throw is limp-wristed and weak and doesn’t even make the distance. Red faced, she trudges back to her line.

Clavicle Gravely looks at Riley and Saphia. He smirks. “Saphia…when you are mad you do great. So get mad. Get confident, get aggressive.” he nods. “Aim it at my head first….you can do this…. Or if you want switch to Keeper.. it’s not as throwy…but a lot more blocky

Dolly Faeden catches the ball a bit awkwardly, saved mostly by the Gripping Charms quaffles are equipped with. “Oi!” she calls, passing the ball to her partner, a round faced third year boy who catches the ball deftly. “M’name is Dennis!” is his reply, throwing the ball back. Thereafter it becomes running and calling out “Dolly!” and then “Oi, oi, Dennis!” The running, Dolly is good at, and even passing the ball back to Dennis she does well enough, but several times she has to dart suddenly forward or sideways and nearly stumbles trying to keep the ball from dropping more than once.

Rather despite his adminantly looking away from her and hardly speaking to her on the way to the field, Riley‘s eyes are locked upon Saphia as she runs pitch. He cringes as she throws, but that hardly keeps him from cheering. “Cheers, Saphia! Good effort!” And as she trudges back to the line, he turns to her with a slightly arched brow. “Yer aim was on, but your ppower was off. Straight arm it, throw with yer body and not just yer arm. You’ll do alright, eh? Here.. cutting out of his line for a second, he moves to stand beside Saphia, demonstrating what he means, giving a waist up, lean-forward hurl at the air. “Like that, see?”

Clavicle Gravely takes a quaffle and begins tossing it up and around. “Who’s with me and Saphia?” he asks as he jogs out taking a bit of initiative. He trots forward and looks over at Saphia. “Come on then… snap to it. It’s just a lesson. A set of problems. We have to distract , confuse, and obfuscate our attack to get it past the keeper.” he grins as he tosses her the quaffle. “UIse your weight like a penduluum. You can toss a good punch…this is the same.”

Kara Raine bends down, waiting patiently till it is her and her partner’s turn. With a nod toward the older boy running beside her, she tosses the quaffle over in a nice smooth ark. Her partner easily catches it, pauses and lobs it back, Kara just managing to grab hold and tuck it in. A bit more distance is covered, the first year giving a yell before she passes the red ball back over. As the posts draw near, the keeper candidate tries to block her partner’s toss, but the quaffle sails through the closest hoop with ease. Kara lets out a whoop of excitement, and goes over to hi-five her partner, before running back down the pitch to get in line.

As Saphia gets back (already huffing a little) she notices that her keeper is the same one Clavicle will be facing, and whispers to him, “He’s weak on the right side — Doesn’t use both his hands well. Use a Mischla Mis-step — Both of you run left, and then the one without the quaffle bolts right. If he bites on it, the other one shoots. If not, pass quickly and try to hit the far right hoop.” She nods sagely, but still looks depressed.

Riley Markham simply blinks.

Clavicle Gravely grins at Saphia, He knew just presenting it in the right way, a problem that needs solving, would activate her ‘Ravenclaw’ mode. He shoots Riley a ‘How about them apples’ look and nods. “Right. Here we go.” And he begins going through the maneuver, running left suddenly. Clavicle has played some soccer in the carnival with muggle kids, so he can be a little quick. He sees Saphia’s prediction almost coming true. But the keeper switches to guard Clav, so Clav yells “On your right foot!” and tosses the quaffles to Saphia…

When David‘s turn comes, the boy catches the Quaffle thrown by the player who ran to the chaser before him and runs towards the keepers. When he has ran about a third of the distance, a bit faster than his partner, he slows down to let him catch up with him and throws the Quaffle to him. He resumes his course towards the keepers, catching the Quaffle thrown back to him with a little difficulty (the other player having thrown it a bit higher that what he should have ideally done). Cursing profusely under his breath, he throws the Quaffle towards the goals with all the force he can manage. As bad luck would have it, the Quaffle is, however, deflected by the Keeper. David comes back towards the other players with a glum look.

Saphia Bona runs again, and indeed, the ploy is good. Saphia‘s left with a nice metre of sunlight in which to make the shot… but her aim is wavery, her power weak. It hits the rim of the hoop and bounces off. No good.

As the line of Chasers finally comes to an end, Noémie claps loudly. “Alright, keepers and Chasers queue up over here and get your breath. Beaters, I want you all to take up a bat now, and face someone. Firsties, any of you who would like to give this a try are welcome to join them.” She pauses, waiting as a few first years join the group of beaters. She then pulls up a few rather old looking balls, hard, which look much like bludgers, save that they are entirely tame. “I would like you all to bat this back and forth, just as a warm-up. If you drop it, don’t worry, just pick it up and keep going. In the meantime…” Noémie turns back to the group who has all gathered around now. “If you would all take to your brooms, I think I’d like to see some flying.

Saphia Bona slumps at her poor effort in the first trial, and whispers to Riley as she walks past him, “Good luck, Riley. You can do it. I believe in you.” And for a brief moment, her smile is utterly genuine. Then it’s back to doom and gloom over her own failures.

Clavicle Gravely walks over to his SandSweeper 25. The oddly shaped Egyptian broom. “Up.” and the broom zips up into his hand. He watches Noémie and grins at Saphia. “You just have to get mad, pretend the hoop is my ego. And there you have it. You’ll be nailing it from Midfield no problem.”

Riley Markham mutters something toward Clavicle; something quite rude about a body part and a place where it would be fairly difficult place said body part without the intervention of a knife, or at least a very strong person. But obediently, he goes to collect up bat, unable to help being somewhat impressed about Saphia’s strategy, and further unable to keep his cheeks from glowing red once more as Saphia walks by and whispers to him. “Er, ah.. thanks, you, too, eh?” Of course, that only makes him cringe after she’s no longer facing him, considering she’s just done part of her bit. Pairing up with one of the other beaters, he draws a deep breath and desperately tries to focus, almost jumping when the crack of the tame bludger against his mate’s bat alerts him that he should be paying more attention. Acting on instinct, he flips his bat in to his hand and waves it in to the air, giving the bludger a mighty crack. One that send the bludger sailing through the goal hoops at the opposite end of the field, even. But unfortunately far and away from his partner, who looks at him with slightly wide eyes.

Kara Raine bounces over toward Noémie and the others, all smiles if not still slightly breathless. “Beater? Nah, that’s not for me.” Broom is retrieved, and Kara quickly mounts it, hovering a few feet off the ground before zooming off. Giggling wildly, the first year leans forward, and the Moontrimmer quickly responds, as Kara begins a nice, if rather fast, circle of the pitch, auburn hair coming loose and flowing wildly behind her. She is however, still listening intently to see if any further commands are called out.

“Ugh,” Riley groans, already marching down the field to collect the stray, lifeless bludger from where he’d knocked it. “My fault, my fault..” Breathing slightly hard once the ball is collected and he’s returned to his previous place, he puts on a face of focus and he and his partner swing it around a bit more. Riley seems to have a similar problem each time. He has no problem getting in front of the bludger and hitting it, but his power usually causes it to overshoot his partner by several yards, and his arm is terrible, causing it to sail far off to one side. Still, there is clear, natural athletisim to the red-haired boy. He might not move with Clavicle’s carnival grace, but his movements are strong, confident and quick.

Dolly Faeden finishes with the Chaser trial, cheeks bright red, but joins the Beaters as well. As she grips a bat, getting used to it, she eyes her partner–a short, stocky fifth year girl. At the go ahead, Dolly tosses the ball into the air and hits it-rather dead on–at her partner… who dodges out of the way with a frightened squeal. “Ey! You cannae be dodgin’ the ball!” Dee’s a bit disappointed, when everyone else gets to fly. Her partner retrieves the ball and hits it back, though, and there’s no time to pout. With a crack, Dee sends it shooting, and her partner has to run sideways to hit it again. Pretty soon there are more sounding cracks than exclaimations of frustration, as both Dee and her partner do a relatively good job, although neither seems to be any good at aiming the ball.

With a push, Saphia takes to the air. To her credit, her takeoff is clean and well performed. She moves in a straight line. Her speed is only slightly below average, and she turns well. That being said — Her flying is distinctly sub-par nonetheless. She doesn’t have a good grasp of how to move in a three-dimensional space and she certainly can’t move fast enough for Quidditch.

Clavicle Gravely takes to the air with a swift upburst of speed. He banks to the side to fly a quick circle around the stadium. He is perhaps showing off the foreign brooms speed a bit, as he pours it on fully. The broom is fast, the Sandsweeper was built for speed and maneuverability. The broom slows as he rolls a bit and comes back to a waiting position as he looks to Noémie for her directives.

David walks to where he has put his Moontrimmer, puts his hand over it and commands: “Up!” The broom immediately jumps up in his hand, and David mounts it, before launching himself in the air and flying swiftly towards Saphia. He flies at her side, encouraging her: “You’re not flying so bad that what you told us…” he says, grinning at her, and escorting her for a while, before breaking his trajectory and flying over Noémie. “Could we have a Quaffle?” he yells to her.

As a few of the other students have fun flying in formation, Saphia yells (as loudly as she can) “You need to be more careful on those attack runs! If you all went into the goal-scoring area like that, you’d be called for stooging for sure!” Looking at a second flier, she flies over to him and also points out how he might have been charged for traking in a few of his cross-over passes, “… and besides which, it’s unsafe in a practice.” The sixth year student she corrests impolitely tells her to buzz off… but she’s actually correct.

Reaching for her own broom, Noémie looks in concern as mock bludgers seem to be flying everywhere. She shakes her head discreetly then looks to the air as many of the students try to show off their brooms or flying skills. She bites her lip as she watches the students in the sky, as if she is considering each one separately. “Alright, Beaters, take to your brooms. “Accio box!” she shouts, and another box of Quidditch balls comes to her side. She glances only momentarily as David he makes a request and ignores him for the moment. “Keepers, split into two groups. I want one group at each set of hoops.” She watches as they scramble doing so. “No, no, you, over to that set! Even it out!” Her voice resonates over the pitch. “Alright, I’m releasing the bludgers, Beaters, at your ready…” She opens each box and one by one lets all four bludgers fly up into the air. She then tosses four quaffles up, at various chasers, taking to her own broom quickly to watch the action. “Make as many goals as you can, come now! Go!”

Clavicle says, “Saphia! Show them by example.” he grins as he does a barrel roll as he takes off in a line and snags a quaffle. The boy spins the broom in a half donut and shoots in the opposite direction. “David.. get ready for a pass!” he charges at the hoop and runs a feint as he tosses the quaffle to David to score.”

Nodding, while in sheer terror at the chaos about to be unleashed, Saphia calls Clavicle and Riley to her with hand gestures, grabs a quaffle, and points downward toward the ground. “Antokovic Ascent! Riley, hit the bludgers at the keepers as we come up!” She dives to get a low angle on the hoops, hoping for a clear shot after Riley’s cover.

The first year was right around the posts when Clavicle zoomed by, Kara wobbles slightly at his passage before banking sharply to pour on more speed. The first year girl roars down the length of the pitch, just a few feet off the ground, slowing down only at Noémie’s words. Maneuvering over toward the end where her former partner was, Kara gives the boy a grin, and as soon as the balls are released she is off. Luck was on her side, as she just managed to snag a quaffle out of the air under a second year’s nose before banking sharply to dodge a incoming bludger. With a yell to her former partner, she flies in close and passes the red ball over, weaving to the left around an opposing chaser, before starting a zigzag pattern toward the other team’s hoops.

David catches the Quaffle deftly as Clavicle shoots it towards him. As he was still near the middle of the pitch, hovering over the students on the ground, he zooms towards the goal posts, slaloming between the players who where already in the air. Arriving near the goal posts, David pretends to be aiming at the middle hoop, throwing in fact the Quaffle at the rightmost goal. David sees with satisfaction that the Quaffle went right through the goal, and he enters into a dive to catch back the Quaffle as it falls slowly near the ground.

“Come now, stop the theatrics, just play!” Noémie calls to several of the people who are attempting to do great feats to make scores. “Just plain Quidditch!” She tuts and shakes her head, watching as pandemonium seems to erupt on the pitch, with quaffles and bludgers going every which way. She pulls a small whistle out of her pocket, watching the action take place, making sure to keep an eye on each of the people out there to see what their skills as a team seem to be. She hovers very still, away from the action, only yelling out when she finds it necessary.

Riley Markham mounts his broom and kicks up in to the air as ordered, eyes narrowing as the thrill of open air grows under his feet. This had been the part he’d been waiting for. His real talent. He flicks his gaze back toward Saphia, before giving a small nod and zeroing in on a bludger coming up on path toward Clavicle and deflecting it away speed and agility. He does try Saphia’s tactic, though his aim is poor and goes far enough right that it’s jardly a threat to the incoming chasers. He’s already zipping across the field, though, to defend David from the other bludger with a might crack of his bat.

It’s enough, though. The keepers scatter and Saphia lobs the ball high to Clavicle, who has a clear and open shot at goal. Her pass actually makes it to him!

Far from dropping what she’s doing to clamber to fly, Dolly looks disappointed to have to stop. Still, stop she does, and then it’s up on the broom. Flying smoothly, it’s obvious she has had practice and is in fact somewhat naturally good. Still, it takes her a full minute and a half to catch a Quaffle. Spotting Dennis, she gives another loud “Oi!” it being her word of the day, but doesn’t pass. She’s supposed to be scoring, and so she tries. And misses by about two feet, with a glower. Turning as sharply as she can on her borrowed broom, Dee seeks another Quaffle. “Shouldnae left me bat on the ground,” she murmurs. Chasing is NOT her forte.

Clavicle Gravely snatches the quaffles and hurles it through the hoop! “There we are. ” he grins “Great Pass Saphia!” He grins as he flies back around to try and make a decent formation. He laughs to Dee. “Nice try! you should have seen me last year…I blew up a school broom!”

After having caught the Quaffle, David quickly flies back up to the same level as the other players. “Saphia! Try scoring this one!” he yells, as he lobs the ball towards her.

Kara Raine ducked Riley’s incoming bludger, missing her partner’s quaffle toss. With a curse that she really shouldn’t know muttered under her breath, the girl banks, diving down and only just managing to retrieve her missed quaffle. Turning back, she dodges right to miss another bludger, passes the ball toward her partner with a yell, and pours on the speed. Heading straight for the posts, she glances over, catches the ball as it is once again tossed in her direction, and heads for the goals. Feigning to the right, the keeper darts in that direction, before Kara rolls and twists back to the left, the quaffle sailing through the center hoop. Letting loose a cheer, she dives down and heads back toward her teams end of the pitch.

Flying as though he were born on a broom, Riley dashes from place to place with a deftness that comes only from natural talent combined with practice. Though he’s hardly as good as the Ravenclaw seek, his potential for trick- and speed-flying is outrageous. He can get in front of that bludger and knock it away from his teammates like nobody’s business. His aim, though.. twice, he sends bludgers sailing dangerously close to David and Clavicle, and once, he even manages to knock the quaffle out of the hands of a chaser and in to the hands of a keeper midpass. Something will need to be done about that.

Saphia Bona eeps as the quaffle comes to her and ducks, leaving the quaffle flying to earth. She really needs to work on her reaction time.

Dolly Faeden seems to realize there are other people when Clavicle calls to her, and she offers a quick smile, and then decides this buisness with the quaffle is ridiculous. She heads toward the ground and retrieves a bat without dismounting, although this does tip her rather sideways. Righting, Dee comes back to the chaos of things and immediately sets about knocking the bludgers about. By the fourth one, it’s obvious from the constant adjusting of her grip that the first year is trying to figure out how to aim things a bit better. Still, with every CRACK! there’s “Sorray!” sure to follow.

Putting the whistle to her mouth finally, Noémie blows hard on it, causing the whistle to shriek. “Alright, all in!” she calls and waves her arms, directing everyone to take to the ground again. While there hasn’t been that much time to scrimmage, Noémie feels as if she’s seen enough to start making her decision. “Alright, great trials, everyone,” She tells the crowd as she touches ground and debrooms. “I’ll get the roster posted in the commons very soon, and practices begin next week. Anyone who doesn’t make the squad is very welcome to play on the Junior Squad to get some practice for next year.” Noémie nods and smiles at everyone. “If you would all just put the quaffles into a pile right over here, I would be much obliged.” She sets her broom down and starts working on securing bludgers into the boxes — a rather dangerous task, indeed!

Riley Markham hops off his broom before it’s fully touched down, letting it drop lazily to the ground with the cassual indifferance of a boy who is hard on his toys And without being asked, he makis his wave over to help Noémie put the bludgers away. His brute strength was good for something, after all.

Another swerve to avoid a bludger, and Kara glances over to see who hit it, eyes wide as she spies Dolly. “Good hit Dolly! Just try and aim more for the other team okay?” Grinning, the girl zooms around her teams posts and ahd just grabbed up a quaffle when Noémie’s whistle sounds. Slowing down, Kara lands with a sigh and walks over to add her quaffle to the pile. “Brilliant! That was ever so much fun.” Kara returns the school broom to the shed before walking back over, seeing if she can assist in any way.

Saphia Bona sighs as she begins descending, pointing her wand at one of the bludgers and calls ‘Tendo!’ before guiding it gently down toward Noémie. She offers a grudging smile at that, at least. She used to be terrible at charms, too. Maybe she just needed time…

David lands his broom, swings it over his shoulder, then walks towards Noémie, offering his help to put the balls and bats away in their respective boxes. Cleaning up after a training is so often neglected by many players, but flying isn’t everything in Quidditch…

Dolly Faeden drops down rather too quickly and entirely vertically, and as she dismounts there’s a moment where the girl has very wobbly knees. “Thank ye for lettin’ me try out, Noémie,” says the first year as she passes the prefect on her way to the shed. Rather sweaty and pink-cheeked from the exertion, it takes a moment for Dee’s eyes to focus as being back on the ground.

“Thank you,” Noémie responds coolly as she finishes packing up all the things from the trials. “Just check for the list in a day or two,” she answers cheerfully to all who comment and stands up, putting her broom under her arm as she gathers both cases in each hand, resolving to return later for the quaffles. “Have a good afternoon, everyone,” She bids them as she goes to directly to the broom shed to return all the equipment to its rightful place. It doesn’t take her long to tidy up the pitch, and soon it is almost as if the group of Ravenclaws were never there at all.

It is with great nostalgia that Bonnie Kensington makes her way onto the train. She had decided in the past to take the train to Hogwarts out of sheer curiosity, and she is finding it exactly the same as it was when she took it… well, many years past. The woman takes a seat near the window, facing forward, so as not to become ill. Her large Divination volume sits at her side and she appears to have a makeshift table ready to make more notes on several lengths of parchment. How better to pass a trip than to work, right?

The little boy is gone too quickly – Sibyl Wexler only has time to give him a quick, comforting touch on the shoulder as he rushes by. The nurse watches him go, her maternal smile tinged with sadness now, but she nods with approval as she watches Briony’s interaction with Gabriel. “Almost time to go, Briony!” Sibyl calls after her daughter. “And for me too, Basil,” she adds, giving her husband’s arm another affectionate squeeze. “But we’ll be back before you know it.”

The door to the compartment opens, and Sibyl Wexler bustles in, calling one last, “Behave, Briony-love! I’ll see you at Hogwarts!” behind her as she enters. The nurse has evidently stowed her lugggage somewhere else – all she carries is a tapestry carpetbag, clinking with potion bottles and with knitting needles and yarn sticking out the top. “Oh – good morning! I suppose I have found the professors’ cabin, then,” she says, with a cheerful grin at the compartment’s other occupant. “I heard that we were getting a few new ones this year. I’m Sibyl Wexler, the Hogwarts nurse.” She takes a seat opposite the other woman, facing backwards, and starts rummaging around in her bag to extricate her needles and yarn, a bright tangle of red.

Isolde Morgan quietly enters the compartment after taking a quick peek inside. “Ms. Kensington,” she says with a friendly smile as she invites herself in and begins placing things in the luggage bins above. As the nurse enters, Isolde nods to her in greeting and takes a seat. “Ms. Wexler, this is the new Divination professor, Bonnie Kensington,” Isolde offers by way of introduction. She may as well be useful. “It’s so good to see all these students again.”

Smiling widely, the massive frame of Darius Dwight enters the compartment shortly after Sibyl. “We may need a second one,” he opines cheerfully as the compartment proves, as always, just big enough for as many people as it’s holding. “Good morning, everyone. How are you?”

Karina Sedgewick opens the door to the compartment, to find it filled with her colleagues, and a few people she doesn’t not recognize. “Good morning!” She smiles at the assembled adults. “I see I’m not the only who thought of taking the train. May I?” She is holding an empty looking leather bag, squarish and not too fashionable, more like a sachel than anything.

Clavicle Gravely Oh.. er, My pardon. I didn’t realize this car was full.” he grins politely. “If you would excuse me… ” he smiles, “Unless there is some sort of extra room about?”

“Hello,” Bonnie greets those who join her with a nod of her head. “Nice to see you again, Ms Morgan,” Bonnie smiles in a friendly fashion to the Arithmancy teacher. “And hello, Sibyl. Hopefully I won’t have to see you all that often this year.” Bonnie‘s eyes smile with mischeif, and she pauses a moment. “Say, Wexler, did you say? Have you any relation to the writers for the Daily Prophet?” The woman looks thoughtful as she considers this.

Isolde Morgan waves in greeting to Karina, then laughs softly. “I just didn’t feel like putting up with another Floo trip, or getting twisted around to apparate to Hogsmeade,” she offers as explanation. “Besides… I always loved this train.” Then Clavicle also gets a quick nod. “It might get awfully dull in here, young man,” she tells him, eyes twinkling, obviously not entirely serious.

“Oh! Well, then, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Professor Kensington. Oh, and do come in, Professor Sedgewick! Professor Morgan! It’s good to see you.” Sibyl, in one of the backwards-facing seats across from Bonnie, is busily working away at untangling her knitting, but she greets everyone in turn with equal friendliness and good cheer, not missing a beat even with the ever-increasing number of occupants. “Oh! Why, yes I am,” she says to Bonnie, with another smile. “Basil is my husband, and Frederick is his brother. And – oh my.” Sibyl has just caught sight of Darius, and something has finally stemmed the stream of cheerful chatter. Her ruddy, sunburned cheeks flush a little pinker, and she lets out what might almost be called a girlish giggle. “Darius Dwight? I didn’t think you would be found on this train.”

Clavicle Gravely grew like a sprout over the summer, He’s far too thin. But the skeltal thin which makes his bowing deep an almost comical parody of the action. “I fail to see how so many learned presences could ever bore a man. But I do feel I am putting upon your hospitality, and if I were to leave, you’d be far more able to enjoy your ride.” he grins a bit. “As I would merely bopre you to tears with questions about our summer readings.” He nods, “I’ve so many brimming about in these here bones.” Clavicle is definately taking after his father. The rakishly thin boy smiles. “If you would pardon me? And excuse my rudeness for failing to knock.”

Darius Dwight smiles, and mimes the action of sweeping a hat from his head at Sibyl’s patter, “Guilty as charged, madam.” He winks, and makes some room for the skinny young boy, “And who might you be, young master?” He smiles and offers a wink to Clavicle. “Feel free to stay if you wish, and if my esteemed colleagues offer no complaints… this is, after all, their train we are intruding on, I might argue.” He settles himself next to Sibyl gently and smiles again to her, his body crouched forward so he doesn’t bang his head on the luggage racks.

Hearing the name of the musician, Bonnie‘s eyes flick to the door, “Oh, my. Are you teaching this year, too?” She offers him a smile as she glances through the cabin. With them all being adults, it certainly does fill a bit faster. “This should be an interesting year, if we’re all to start anew.” The woman settles herself, removing her book from the seat next to her to be located on her lap so that there’s more room. “Tell me, is the sorting as fascinating as it always was in the past?”

Isolde Morgan smiles a little crookedly as she notices Darius’s presence. She nod in greeting, a safe enough approach. “It’s what these benches are for, after all,” she adds after the other professor, smiling at Clavicle. “For sitting.”

Karina Sedgewick takes a seat, and puts down her seemingly weightless sachel on her lap. “I would have been at school,” she explains to Isolde, “But… as I had… something to take care of in London, I thought I would take the train back. It has been too many years.” She blushes slightly, as if she had said more than she intended. Quickly, she opens her sachel and takes out a large, leatherbound notebook of cracking parchment and settles down to do some work.

Sibyl‘s cheeks pinken a little more under Darius’s smile – and then the nurse clears her throat loudly, and looks back to the other professors. Karina’s remark draws a quick, concerned glance across the car – Sibyl doesn’t say anything, but her sharp turquoise eyes still note the other woman’s comment. “Well, it’s good to see you here,” she replies, her voice softening a little. The train lurches, and Sibyl‘s ruddy complexion pales a little. “Ugh. Shouldn’t have sat backwards,” she mutters.

Darius Dwight idly pulls out a harmonica from his robes, and asks around the compartment briefly, looking for objections. Finding none, he picks up a quiet bluesy tune, letting its music fill the compartment with a calming, serene air. As he plays, he closes his eyes and enjoys the motion of the train.

“There’s room here Mrs Wexler,” Bonnie beckons. “I never sit backwards for that reason. It always made me ill as a child.” The woman chuckles and packs her things away, as she can tell that she won’t be getting anything done. The woman falls silent as Darius plays his music. “Ah, it’s been so long since I was to a concert. Hopefully there will be one or two at the school?” Bonnie smiles at Darius hopefully.

Isolde Morgan shifts slightly as the train lurches. “I think I’ll go say hello to some of my former students,” she announces, carefully getting to her feet. “I missed too much last year. If you’ll excuse me.” She then slips back out into the corridor.

“Need something for that, Sibyl? I brought some…” Karina digs into her sachel again, and pulls out a vial of shimmering teal potion. In the bright midday light a few flecks for what appears to be gold can be seen. She offers the vial to the nurse with a sympathetic smile. “Try it. It will help. My special recipe.” She gives the nurse a wink.

Stopping playing for a second, Darius answers, “My earnest hope is to have a single large concert at the end of every year. ALL Wizo-Music students will play. Provided I have approval from the new headmaster, or headmistress.” And with that, he keeps playing.

Clavicle Gravely smiles. “My deepest apologies. I am Clavicle G. Gravely, the third.” the Gravely name is known a bit, as the owners and operators of the Gravely Shadow Emporium and Autumnal Carnival. The carnival walks in both worlds, and the wizarding side has all sorts of magicakal things, mirrors and monsters. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he offers a hand to Darius Dwight. The boy is the son of the ‘Illustrated man’, the Major Domo of the carnival. This is pretty obvious as a skeleton Tatto pokes up over his collar and waves.. then politely raises it’s tophat to the female adults. (repose)

“Karina, you’re a treasure!” Sibyl sighs gratefully, reaching out to take the vial. Professional interest takes precedence for a moment – she holds it up to the light, examining the sparkling bits – but then necessity takes over, and Sibyl swiftly uncorks the vial, drinking down the contents swiftly. Almost immediately, the color returns to her cheeks, and she lets out another sigh. “Oh, thank you. Much better. You wouldn’t consider sharing the recipe, I suppose?”

Riley Markham hardly glances at the card before moving to hand it back to Kitty, giving a great, heaving sigh of mixxed worry and disgust. “Aye, fine. S’my Gran. She an’ I.. well,” he sighs, all that worry and fear he’d been holding up raging back to the surface. “She worried me, today.. something she said. Can’t figure it out.. Eh,” Riley looks up, as the train stops.. “We’re ‘ere, eh.” And he rises, non-challantly, to pull down and carry he and Saphia’s things off the train.

(Faculty) Isolde Morgan sighs happily as she settles in at the table. “I feel like I’m home!” she announces to no one in particular as she sets her small satchel to the side of her chair.

(Faculty) “Sorry I’m late,” Darius excuses himself as he sits down. “Got a bit caught up in nostalgia.”

(Faculty) Bonnie Kensington strides in slowly, taking in the scene of the Great Hall. It always looked majestic, but somehow, even more on sorting day. The woman smiles a bit and takes a seat near the end of the table, gancing around at the other faculty. “I can’t blame you, Mr Dwight. I did, too. It’s been so long since I was here.” Bonnie‘s smile seems permanently pasted to her face as she gazes about at the large hall.

“Yeah,” Riley mutters, not bothering to ask if Saphia would like him to carry her luggage, stepping behind her and picking up for her after she’s dragged it a way. Hauling heavy things was something he was actually fairly good at. He seems more than slightly annoyed, though more at his own reaction than the question.. “Yeah, she was a famous curse-breaker, did some ivestment things for Gringotts, helped a lot of rich people get richer. But she said somethin to me today..” He drops the luggage off in the entry wing, following the rest in to the great hall.. “Something odd.. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it worries the stuffing outta me..” And then, as he steps in to the great hall.. he looks up, across the room to the faculty table. “Oh, sweet Jesus.. I’m in hell..”

(Faculty) Silent, morose, and isolated even within the crowd, Astra sits at the faculty table with the hood of her cloak pulled up so that it is just covering her hair. Hands folded in front of her, she sits with her shoulder turned a fraction away from the Headmistress and while she does glance at the new faculty, she seems more mindful of the Slytherin table.

(Faculty) “It is always nice to come back, isn’t it?” Isolde asks pleasantly, turning to Darius and Bonnie. “At least… it would be as long as your time here was good, I suppose.” This makes her pause, but not for long. “Merlin’s beard. How did I end up with the Ravenclaw House?” the professor continues, totally on a different topic, obviously. It happens quite often. Her expression as she studies that House’s table is one of mixed panic and hopelessness, though both are thankfully in mild doses. “The First years will be smarter than I am.”

(Faculty) Darius Dwight shakes his head firmly, and answers, “That is not true. The first years will NOT all be smarter than you.” He smiles pleasantly, deliberately wry.

(Faculty) Karina Sedgewick settles down at the faculty table with a feeling of relief, as if she’s come home after a long journey. She smiles at Isolde, and answers her, “You gave the Hufflepuffs to me, Isolde,” she says, eyes twinkling. “And no, I’m not traiding.” She chuckles to herself, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of long, wavy black hair behind an ear.

(Faculty) “Oh, you’ll do fine,” Sibyl chides Isolde, with a reassuring pat on the professor’s shoulder as she edges past on her way to her seat at the other end of the table. Back on solid, unmoving ground, the nurse’s good cheer and good health seem to have completely returned, and she surveys the room with her usual comfortable smile. “You know, it still doesn’t feel quite right to be on this side of the room,” she muses, looking out over the Great Hall.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard sit quietly, an amused smile brushing her lips as she goes over a few of the finer points of the notes she’d made. First impressions were key, after all. And she certainly wanted to start things off right. Her gaze does lift to offer a warm nod and pleasant smile to each of the arriving faculty.

(Faculty) Isolde Morgan smiles her thanks to the others and sits back, taking a deep breath. “It’s all in the attitude,” she states, either for her own benefit or… otherwise. At this point, she finally notices that the person in the headmistress’s chair is not the headmistress she remembered. “Oh!” she says quickly, blinks at the others, blinks at Prichard, then… blinks at the students. That’s it. Attitude. She is not a surprised owl. And so the eyes grow a little less wide.

(Faculty) Darius Dwight looks intrigued also by the new headmistress. Seated a good distance away from her, he can’t easily talk to her, but whispers to Bonnie, “So, who is that? I assume she’s Headmistress Hargrove’s replacement?”

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard draws a deep breath, looking up from her sheets of parchment with a confident sort of expression, looking out over the crowd of youthful faces with a pleasant expression. She sees Riley enter, and smiles a bit more; a softer, kinder sort of smile, that clearly decribes her as being to far across the nosy room to have heard his outburst.

Keelan Walsh strides in, not even having shucked her cloak, and moves quickly to the faculty table. She’s still, in fact, got the lantern she was using to light the way, though that at least has been put out. Despair, oh haters of Herbology (and members of Ravenclaw), Keelan Walsh has not drowned in the lake.

With students settled at their respective House tables, the doors to the Great Hall let in one, final person. Head of Gryffindor and Charms Professor Erica Calwern enters the Great Hall with the Sorting Hat lightly held in her grasp. She makes her way gracefully between the tables and up to the dias which hosts the faculty tables and a lone, dark oak stool. Tattered, torn, patched, and frayed, the professor still treats the Hat with the utmost respect as she gently places it upon the stool. Turning, she bows to the table, head lowered and right hand sweeping towards the ground. Standing and directing herself to Melvina in particular, she addresses the new Headmistress, “Good evening, Professor Prichard. I believe we are ready to greet our newest residents.”

Darius Dwight looks over the Ravenclaw table, noting a loud groan coming from their direction at the appearance of Professor Walsh. Many, including one boy in particular, seem utterly disconsolate.

Dolly Faeden gasps out loud at the Great Hall and actually stops in her tracks to stare at the ceiling. “I’ve got to learn tae do that!” is her decided proclaimation. She seems not to notice as she’s somewhat left behind by the group that is, of course, still moving.

Angelo Grey enters the great hall and a face of amazement comes from within. He looks up, turns around, several times, as if spinning in the same place, trying to grasp the entirety of this hall. “Wow…” he says, dreamily.

Erica Calwern awaits patiently and with a warm smile next to the Sorting Hat which both stand upon the dias at the front of the room. As many new students filter in from the waiting room, they create a single line upon the dias, forming a living barrier between the faculty and the returning students.

Rawnie Weller stares up at the magical ceiling nearly falling onto her backside made dizzy by the beauty of it. “Blimey!” Is all the little redhead can think to utter before actually taking a small spill forward due to Vertigo, poor girl.

Kara Raine follows the others into the Great Hall, eyes wide. “Oh my, oh my.” Swallowing nerviously, she moves forward falling into line, hands clenching and unclenching the sides of her robes.

Kassandra Verkooyen Kassandra Verkooyen almost floats into the Great Hall, decently looking at the enchanted ceiling, always keeping up with the group of first-years and standing still among the others.

Sara O‘Shay quirks a brow, for all that she may not like Rawnie, she doesn’t want anyone to mess up her sorting. “You alright?” she questions of Miss Weller. “I suppose it can be a little overwhelming.”

Standing on the dais, Aisling can appreciate how many people there are in the hall, and, as such, how many eyes there are upon her. Seeing Rawnie tumble down, she steps over to her and kneels next to her. “Are you alright?” she inquires, hand resting upon her plait like usual.

Chris Jitsunari joins in the awe. He looks up at the enchanted celing and then at all the returning students, not sure how to take it all in. “The books about this place don’t even come close to the actual experience.”

Rawnie Weller stand up and brushes her robes off. A small glare is given to Sara. “Im arright….. I just got a little dizzy from lookin up too fast s’all….” She didn’t need help from a girl who called her a halfling. Whatever that is. She nods to Aisling too. “Im arright.”

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh scuttles up on the dias with a start, eyes still turned upward. “Aye…” is her breathless response to Chris’s comment.

Dolly Faeden scuttles up on the dias with a start, eyes still turned upward. “Aye…” is her breathless response to Chris’s comment.

Sara O‘Shay nods a little before stepping back into the queue, not that she’d stepped out any. “Good,” she states, simply.

Heat O‘Leary glances upward momentarily towards the ceiling before he lowers his gaze, a minor shiver rocking his frame. He looked towards the sorting hat and continued the hurried attempts at fixing his hair, brushing longer pieces behind his ears with his fingers.

Aisling O‘Cormac looks down the line and exclaims, looking at the hat, “Rawnie, Kass, Lyre, it’s the hat that boy was talking about! Maybe this won’t be so bad after all… Although, he did say it tests you, or something… I hope I know the right answers.”

With a flick of her wand towards the Waiting Room doors, Erica has them shut behind the final new student entering the hall. As if on silent cue, she also steps away from the hat, giving herself a distance of a few feet from the worn old thing.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh removes her cloak before sitting and drapes it over the back of her chair. She sits, setting the lantern next to herself, and smirks at the Ravenclaw table. Still here, she is. Her hands fold calmly as she listens to the hat, and then she murmurs, “That was a good one, wasn’t it?” to whoever is sitting next to her.

Angelo Grey smiles in awe as the sorting hat sings his song. Letting out a silent chuckle, he seem exhilirating.

Rawnie Weller claps out loud as the Hat’s song comes to a close. “Brilliant! Blood amazing! That shabby ol hat can sing! Thats even better than movin pictuers with frog guts!” She nearly yells almost too loudley.

Kara Raine giggles, dimples appearing as she smiles. “It sings, nice little tune too. Maybe this won’t be as bad as they said, yes?”

Wincing at the loudness of Rawnie’s comment, Aisling stands quietly in the line awaiting further instructions. “I hope so.” she mutters to Kara.

Lyre King shakes his head. “I’m not so sure. A hat that can sing could probably do other things, too!”

Sara O‘Shay listens quietly to the song, and so she remains quiet as she awaits for the sorting to begin.

Kassandra Verkooyen smiles. “I think he cannot be as bad as they said. He sang a splendid song.”

Dolly Faeden watches the hat in awe. “It is a hat, and it can talk.” Her eyes go wider and wider and then turn toward Professor Calwern, not quite taking in the whole row of faculty in their chairs.

Kassandra Verkooyen smoothes out her robe while there still is time to do it. In a few minutes she will be in front of all these more experienced people and she wants to make a good impression, even with that clumsy old hat on her head.

Erica Calwern brushes a gloved hand over her brow before slipping her wand back up her sleeve. Walking back towards the hat, she summons the scroll from her place at the faculty table. Unfurling it, she announces, “It is about time we begin, I believe. Faeden, Dolly!”

Dolly Faeden looks startled when her name is called, as though she had no sense of alphabet. Almost automatically comes, “It’s Fi-jen, actually.” An offhand comment to Professor Calwern that will likely as not fail to sink in until much later. She steps up, picks up the hat and places it gingerly upon her head, trying to sit at the same time. A near miss, but Dee makes it to the stool. And waits.

(Faculty) Isolde Morgan cheers quickly and gives Dolly an encouraging smile.

Rawnie Weller claps for Dolly smileing brightly. She nearly shreiks out “Did it hurt?!?” Well she really wanted to know.

Dolly Faeden turns about four shades of pink and removes the hat unsteadily. She doesn’t meet Professor Calwern’s eye and instead scurries off toward the… wait, which table is she supposed to scurry toward? There’s a pause and she decides the one with cheering people, Merlin willing, will be correct. Eep, Sorted!

Running a finger down her list, the Charms Professor comments on Dolly’s sorting, “Fitting. Let’s see if she corrects me in class.” Erica regards the next name before announcing, “Grey, Angelo!”

Angelo Grey trembles at the mention of his name. He walks towards the dirty old hat, shivering, but making an effort to maintain his pose. As he paces silently, time seems to stretch to him. It’s taking so long… He looks at all the people gazing at him, controling his nerves. He picks up the hat and puts it on his head.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh wrinkles her nose. The first one just had to be Ravenclaw, didn’t she? Still, there’s clapping and a murmur of, “Well, Slytherin will get some of them.”

(Faculty) Bonnie Kensington finds herself elated as a student gets sorted into her old house, remembering her fond days there. “I’m sure all the houses will get some,” Bonnie responds to Keelan’s comment with a smile and mischeivous glint in her eyes.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard applauds politely as the first student moves her to her grandson’s table, watching the younglings with an amused expression.

Angelo Grey steps down shivering, but visibly happy. He aproaches the table, looking for a place to sit, making an effort to stay on his legs.

Angelo Grey steps down shivering, but visibly happy. He aproaches the Hufflepuff table, looking for a place to sit, making an effort to stay on his legs

First Angelo to Hufflepuff then a spat of Gryffindors who all chitter as they make their way to their new House tables. Then, a Slytherin. Each, called and sorted yet Erica‘s voice never tires or wanes as she announces the next name, “Jitsunari, Chris!” She can’t help but glance over at the Ravenclaw table and one Miss Dolly Faedon as another difficult to pronounce name comes up.

Erica Calwern doublechecks her scroll and mutters, “I will need glasses if the secretary prints these names any smaller.” Louder, she announces to the room, “King, Lyre!”

Lyre King is the sort that has to be reminded to move. When his name is called, someone has to shove him in the shoulder, as he is staring at the cieling. As soon as he is reminded, he breaks into a jog to make up for any time he lost daydreaming. He picks up the hat, sits down, and places it on his head.

Lyre King hops off the stool, drops the hat on it, and goes to sit with his new housemates.

Erica Calwern watches twins get separate with the slice of the Hat’s opinion. The boy heads off to Slytherin, the girl to Gryffindor. The professor doesn’t miss a beat as she calls out, “Raine, Kara!”

Kara Raine looks up at her name, gray eyes wide in surprise. Taking a deep breath, she steps forward just knowing that all eyes are on her, and in a single graceful motion sits upon the stool while placing the hat upon her head. Wincing slightly, she waits for something to happen.

Kara Raine visibly sighs before grinning broadly, quickly hopping down and rushing over to take her place at the Ravenclaw house table.

A Ravenclaw here, a Slytherin there. The Sorting Hat happily does Erica‘s bidding as she dutifully calls off the name of every new student standing before her. “O’Cormac, Aisling!”

Hearing her name being called aloud startles Aisling O‘Cormac, and she glances around slightly nervously before heading to the provided stool. Picking up the hat, she sits, gingerly placing said hat upon her head.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard draws a deep breath, midway in to the sorting, before turning her gaze toward Astra. She’d not spoken to the woman since everything had resolved over the course of the summer. She found it somewhat disconcerting to be sitting so close to her now. “Astra, dear?” She offers, quietly.

(Faculty) “If you don’t mind ma’am, I’m watching the Sorting.” The words slide off her tongue, hissing through clenched teeth while Astra does not bother to glance at the Headmistress. “I’m rather concerned with who will be entering my care.” Stifled and forcibly civil at best, there is obviously no loved lost for the older woman.

Gasping from the noise the hat made, Aisling staggers upright and heads, beaming, towards her new house’s table.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh raises an eyebrow and looks longways down the table at Astra and Melvina, and bites her bottom lip. Oh dear.

Angelo Grey claps loudly as he takes a good look at Aisling. “Hi” he offers the first year.

Hufflepuff, always welcoming to each new student, their numbers swelling. Trailing a glove tip down the scroll, Erica‘s eyes scan name after name. A few Ravenclaws are sorted before she calls out, “O’Leary, Heat!”

Heat O‘Leary finally abandons his vain attempts to completely smooth his hair as he approaches the hat, two stray locks sweeping out from their places behind each of his ears. He had given his all, and for the most part it worked–his hair didn’t look too bad, at least it looked intentional now. The boy glances towards Kassandra and lets a grin pass over his lips–she gets to use it after he does, even if there are a few people in between. He carefully takes the hat and settles on the stool as he places it upon his head. Heat‘s eyes pass between all of the tables while he waits for the sorting announcement.

(Faculty) A hint of steel tightens the suddenly intense look that sweeps over Melvina‘s features; an instinctive reaction to what she percieved to be a clearly issued challenge. It took most of her restraint to keep from saying something untoward in reply, but she had become fairly adept at biting her tongue ..some of the time. A deep breath fills her, falling from her lips in a surprisingly even tone of voice, as she turns her gaze back to the sorting. “Of course, Professor Rathe. My appologies. We shall speak later.”

(Faculty) “I’m sure you will speak later, I have little to say.” The retort is quick and sharp, dagger-like and Astra‘s gaze never once flickers backward over her shoulder. Remaining seated very straight, she clamps her mouth shut and her focus remains on the unsorted children and the Slytherin table.

Kassandra Verkooyen leans over to Rawnie, nods to Heat and whispers “The boy with the spittle hair…”

Heat O‘Leary steps down after removing the hat, his face sheet white. He shivers noticeably and wraps his arms about himself before making the trek towards the Slytherin table.

Patsy went to Gryffindor, Orville to Hufflepuff. A nice girl Mary found her way to Gryffindor and an even nicer girl named Sally found her way to Slytherin, following right on Heat’s heels. Erica‘s voice remains strong as she calls out the next name, “O’Shay, Sara!”

Sara O‘Shay quietly steps up to the stool as her name is called. Lifting the hat she sets it on her head, all the while sitting on the stool and crossing her legs all primp and properly. This done Sara casts her gaze out to the crowded, already sorted students, her gaze eventually settling upon her siblings.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard turns her gaze sharply toward Astra, and her eyes narrow a bit; but ultimately, what comes of her is a subtle sigh. She could, at least on some level, understand. Moving her gaze back to front, she clears her voice and restrains her temper. “As you will, then, dear,” she says, simply. Her expression becoming neutral, but no less confident or authoritive. “I will talk. And you will listen. After the feast.” Leaning forward, she rests her elbows on the table and laces her fingers so that they steeple as she leans forward and rests her lips against them.

(Faculty) Darius Dwight groans. “What a shame!”

Sara O‘Shay offers a bit of a grin as the hat announces her house and stands from the stool and returns the hat to it. That done the young Slytherin girl makes her way towards her house table with little haste. As she sits down Sara offers a bit of a nod towards her siblings. There was, of course, no doubt that shed end up in Slytherin house.

“Imagine that,” the professor muses with a smirk, “an O’Shay in Slytherin. Someday you should surprise us, old hat.” Erica looks back to her list, about half way through from the way she holds the scroll in the middle of its length, “Jitsunari, Chris!”

Chris Jitsunari straightens as he hears his name. The hat obviously couldn’t be that bad, seeing as how none of the other students seemed to be in pain. He looks around and laughs nervously before walking up to the stool and taking a seat and placing the hat on his head.

Chris Jitsunari grins widely at hearing the result, Ravenclaw being his choice house from the moment he first read about Hogwarts. He gets down from the stool and walks to the Ravenclaw table proudly, smiling at the other Ravenclaws .

There is one of those uncomfortable silences as Erica walks up the two steps to her space at the table and takes from it a crystal goblet, filled with a ruby-orange liquor. She takes a sip and her voice seems to come to her with renewed strength as she announces the next student’s name, “Ripple, Rebecca!”

Rebecca Ripple gulps anxiously, and steps up to the hat, wondering how anyone could enchant a hat to think, speak, and even sing. She approaches the stool, sits herself down, and takes a deep breath as she feels the Sorting Hat being lowered onto her head. “What now?” she thinks. She is praying now, that the decision made for her today will be a prudent one.

Rebecca Ripple skips down to the bottom of the steps, giggling with delight. She gleefully sits at the Ravenclaw table…

Erica Calwern strikes quite the pose, liquor in one hand, scroll in the other. Another, longer sip is taken from the goblet as she looks over the list. First the mutter to herself, “How did that name get smudged? Hughe? Hank?” Then realizing that the Hat has shipped off Rebecca to the Ravenclaws, she announces, “Turner, Baldwin!”

Baldwin Turner lowers his head as his name is called, admittedly still quite frightened. Advancing slowly towards the hat, his pace slows as the worried boy gets closer and closer, perhaps without him even realising it. Stopping before Professor Calwern, Baldwin parts his curley hair to look at her directly, “Do I…” Gulp. He surveys the crowd. “Need to… do it… Here?” Biting his tongue, Baldwin seems to accept it is inevitable, sitting down and commenacing visible shakeage.

Baldwin Turner gulps, “I-I-is that a… Is that a good thing?” Hopping from the stool, he lowers his head to avoid eye contact and shuffles hastily towards the table, trying not to make a fool of himself any further.

Erica Calwern is holding the scroll by its very end now and feet upon feet dangle on the floor before her. The line of students near her has shorten considerably while the tables have filled to near bursting with new members, “Verkooyen, Kassandra!” With such precise pronounciation, it is clear she is not allowed to make mistakes when it comes to the children’s names.

A nervous smile rushes across Kassandra Verkooyen‘s face as she approaches the steps, which lead to the stool, with elegant steps. Climbing up the stairs she starts turning the ring on her right hand in excitement. She sits down gently and puts on the vintage hat.

An overwhelming smile gleams on Kassandra Verkooyen‘s face. She stands up gracefully and places the hat back onto the chair. Then she descends towards the Ravenclaw table with blushed cheeks, eased and contented about her destiny, and takes a seat among her housemates.

A quiet boy shuffles his way to Ravenclaw while two louder boys nearly race to Gryffindor upon the Hat’s announcement. Erica can’t help but chuckle at the exuberance before calling out the next name, “Weller, Rawnie!”

When Rawnie is called she runs up to the stool, takes the hat and places it in her head looking a bit comical with the brim covering most of her head. She is simply so excited that she is bounceing on her seat kicking her feet back and forth and twiddling her thumbs. A real “wiggle worm” this one.

Rawnie Weller stands and takes off the hat etting it back onto the stool muttering somthing that sounds a bit like “Starch” to the hat as she runs to take her seat at Gryffindor table.

“Fantastic!” the Charms professor is heard to exclaim softly as hears the Hat’s announcement. Whether it is for Rawnie’s sorting or if her gaze alights upon the final student awaiting their moment of consideration with the Hat. With a certain amount of zeal, Erica calls out, “And finally, Stopps, Warrick!”

Warrick Stopps blinks as his name is called and belatedly stands up a little straighter. Posture, oh, yes, good posture. He clears his throat, and with only another moment of hesitation, he sets his shoulders and marches up the stairs and to the stool. There he takes a sudden seat and puts on the hat like all the others before him.

Erica Calwern looks up from her list and spots Talia still upon the dias. She looks back down at her list, “Stoederman, Smith, Stopps, how could I have?” A long silence and the woman exclaims, “Ah! Caulfield, Talia!”

(Faculty) “Maybe it’s the wine,” Isolde suggests sweetly, mostly to herself.

Primed to the sound of her name, Talia Caulfield hastens forward on short, swift steps with eyes narrowed warily and breath nerve-quickened.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard simply chortles.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh bites her lip but for a different reason this time, but tries not to look too amused. After all, there could be students watching and it wouldn’t do any good to embarass Erica by laughing.

With a flick of her wrist, Erica has the scroll roll itself up and sends it back to her seat at the faculty table. The professor walks to the center of the dias and looks down upon the row after row of children, “So begins another year at our old home and for some of us new. At this time, it is my sincerest pleasure,” and her tone and expression do express that very sentiment, “to introduce all of you to our new Headmistress, Professor Prichard!”

Talia Caulfield raises her head in a sharp jerk, eyes rounding with a brief flash, and removes the hat with nimble fingers, rising and slipping it back on the stool with perfect precision before she moves at a sedate pace to join her new housemates at the Slytherin table.

“Thank you, Erica,” Melvina Prichard notes as she purposefully rises from the faculty table, lifting her cherry-wood wand to her neck and tapping the tip against it deftly. “Sonorus summissus,” she murmurs, giving a certain amount of power to her voice so that she may be heard of the student chattering; happy exchanges and exciting tales of places visited and daring-do over the long separation left by the summer holiday, she was certain. Not to mention the animated greetings of those newly appointed to thier houses.

“Pardon me, everyone,” Melvina calls, her voice filling the hall at a surprisingly comfortable volume. She pauses a moment to allow the hall to calm before tapping her wand again to her throat and restoring her normal speaking voice. One that is quiet pleasant, and fully reflective of the warm smile that graces her lips as she looks out over her young audience. “Welcome, everyone, to Hogwarts term for year nineteen hundred and twenty six! My name is Melvina Prichard and I have had great fortune of being appointed new Headmistress of Hogwarts school. I look forward knowing each of you as time passes. Moving on then, I’ve some beginning of term announcements to make.” Pulling a pair of spectacles from a pocket of her emerald robes and resting them on the bridge of her nose, the Headmistress lifts up a tightly-bound scroll which had she’d not appeared to be holding a moment before.

“The standard boilerplate, of course. Our caretaker has asked me to remind you check the updated list of prohibited items and punishable offenses that have been thoughtfully posted in each of your common rooms–” Drawing in a deep breath, the Headmistress begins to unroll the wound parchment, “Spellwork outside of the classroom, rough play, pranks, hijinxs, dungbombs, Whipple’s Pimple Powder..” Her brow furrows for a moment and the bottom of the scroll slips through her fingers, clattering to the table, spilling over the edge, and rolling across the floor until exhausting itself about half-way across the Great Hall. Her eyes widenning slightly, Melvina sets her end of the very long list down and vanishes it with a flick of her wand. “The list goes on. Be sure to check it.”

After quiet resumes, Melvina takes up a blessedly smaller sheet of parchment. “Hogwarts tradition demands that I remind you the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students; it’s equally tradition that some of you will choose to ignore this reminder.” A rueful chuckle escapes her as she shares a knowing smile with the hall. “Know then that detention is the minimum punishment for entering the Forbidden Forest without a member of staff or faculty along side you, and that such acts will almost always result in a major loss of house points as well.” With small glance around and a pause to clear her throat, Melvina continues. “Naturally, we ask that you respect and defer to your Prefects. Also, I’d like to congratulate our new Head Boy and Head Girl, Martin Foster and Eliza Marlowe. Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe, please stand.” She claps once the two have risen, leading those who care to join her in a modest round of applause, before continuing on.

(Faculty) Settling back into her chair as the last student finishes with the Hat, Astra merely turns and gives a bland smile to the rest of the faculty or at least those within eyeshot. At Melvina’s introduction, the defense professor gives nothing more than an unpleasant hissing sound that she manages to keep to a minimum of sound so that the students don’t see (or hear) what she’s up to.

“Very good, Head Boy, Head Girl. On to faculty. I have the pleasure of introducing several new faculty members to you, and to announce the return of a few others. Heading up our Wizo-Music classes will be international wizo-musician Darius Dwight. Great honor, there. Filling our other vacancies will be, for Astronomy, Mister Avery Fallon, Care of Magical Creatures, Mister Quintus Helit, and last but hardly least, Divination, a one Miss Bonnie Kensington. Also, returning from hiatus, Professors Isolde Morgan and Dante Hayward shall be resuming their posts as masters of Arithmancy and Muggle Studies, respectively. Ravenclaws will note that along with reclaiming her Arithmancy classroom, Professor Morgan is also be resuming her duties as Ravenclaw Head of House. Similarly, Hufflepuffs will be interested to know that Professor Sedgewick has been officially named your Head of House Hufflepuff for the coming year.” Melvina waits one last time for applause before plowing on. One large, deep, relieved breath and Melvina finally sets down the parchment and removes her glasses, slipping them back in to the pocket where she found them. “That said, I have only one more thing to mention before we start in on the delicious feast I know you’re all patiently waiting to savor. Seeing that we have so many new faces gracing us this year, in the spirit of celebration and greeting, I’ve decided to hold a small function. A barefoot social. This dance will semi-formal, open to all students of all years, faculty, and staff, and will include music, naturally, and an outdoor feast.” Her smilewarms in to something almost sly, however, as she looks out at her young crowd. “But what social would be complete without courtship? So, for fun, I’ve decided to make this dance a bit unusual; our ladies will need ask our gentlemen for the honor of an afternoon’s companionship.” She waits, pleasantly, for the reaction to that before at last finishing up. “I’d like to form an events council, made up of students from all years, to help me prepare; if you’d like to be on said committee, you may contact me through any of the usual means. Exact details regarding date and time of the barefoot social shall follow shortly. Once your bellies are full and you gossip abated, please follow your Prefects to your respective common rooms, and have a wonderful school year. Let us eat.” And with small nod and a sly, lingering grin, Melvina slips casually back in to her seat.

(Faculty) Isolde Morgan claps quickly and sends her former House a warm smile. “Eliza. Good choice,” is her opinion before she unfolds a napkin on her lap.

(Faculty) Turning her head and looks to Erica, Astra‘s face is a mask of gravity but her eyes shine with deviant mischief. “My dearest, most darlingist Miss Calwern, could I have the pleasure of asking you to the dance?” This is said just before Melvina reseats herself but is certainly loud enough to be overheard by some of the faculty.

(Faculty) Darius Dwight peers over to Astra, having indeed heard that. My my. Mischief aplenty.

(Faculty) Erica Calwern has taken her seat, next to Astra’s, so the reply is not quite as well heard as the invitation. “Why, I would consider noone else!” The woman promptly drains her goblet. No more is it set on the table, empty, than it is immediately refilled with the same, thick ruby liquid of before.

(Faculty) Karina Sedgewick smiles at Eliza as her Head Girlship is announced. Her hardworking Quidditch captain certainly earned it. With the formalities now concluded she takes a sip of pumpkin juice, her eyes sparkling as she overhears Astra and Erica’s conversation. “And I was going to ask you, Astra,” she says with feigned disappointment. “Now who am I suppose to go with?”

(Faculty) Darius Dwight drums his fingers on the table.

(Faculty) A dark chortle burbles from Astra‘s lips and a slow smile broadens and touches the corners of her eyes. “Well then, I am most honored. Of course, then there’s the trouble of just which of us will wear a damn dress. You always were smashing in gowns, but I suppose we could both go in breeches.” Reaching into her cloak she pulls out a rock crystal flask and opens the silver stopper. “Oh darling Karina! You can come with us! You can wear the dress, it’ll be simply divine.” Taking a drink from the container she grins wickedly down the table.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard resumes her seat with at the faculty table with a quite-pleased-with-herself sort of expression, passing a small glance to both Astra and Erica, but dismissing thier slight with a slight roll of her eyes. Holding a job, a position, authority again after all these years — it was a beautiful thing to feel needed again.

(Faculty) Erica Calwern leans close over the table so she can see Karina. Pointing a finger in Melvina’s direction, she smirks as she comments suggestively, “Bet you Merlin’s wand noone’s asked her yet! And don’t think you can steal the dress wearing duties from me.”

(Faculty) Isolde Morgan turns slowly to peer at Erica, a goblet of wine halfway to her lips. Probably deciding it’s not a good time to ask, she goes back to her meal.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard turns a brilliant grin toward Erica, sly and mischievous as they come. “I wouldn’t be something that valuable unless you’re alright with losing it.”

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh turns pink around the corners of her face and, by turns, red. She busies herself with a nice cup of tea and tries not to look either nosy or completely shocked.

(Faculty) “Excellent, I always preferred the trousers anyway!” Astra uses a stage whisper and tilts her chin at Darius. “You could always ask Darius, he was a gent in school although the years may have changed him.” The sly smirk trembles on the corner of her mouth as she fights back just laughing at the mischief. “Oh ho! Melvina, you’re a sly devil. You and Erica should go together. Then I can sit and pine after you both. I bet by the end of the night you’ll have stolen everything between the two of you, including everyone’s hearts.”

(Faculty) Darius Dwight smiles to Astra, and remarks in his usual deep voice, “Professor Rathe is far too kind to me. She’s accurate, but neglects many of the more impertinent moments for which I was unfortunately famed in our time here.”

(Faculty) Erica Calwern listens to Astra’s most recent commentary, then reaches over and tips her glass to take a peek inside it, “You’ve got me beat, don’t you? How many goblets did you quaff while I was standing about yelling names?”

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard samples a few bites of this and that before finally giving a great, pleasant sigh. The events of the last few days had been rather exhausting for her, and she was more than ready to lay herself down for a nice, long night of rest. “Ladies, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.”

(Faculty) Darius says, “Let me see you to your office, headmistress,” Darius’s wry tone somehow manages to make that sound rakish, rather than brownnosing. “You’ve not been here in a long time, and if rumors are to be believed, a lot has changed.”

(Faculty) “I haven’t had actually but I figure if I’m going to see the Slytherin after the feast, I probably shouldn’t smell too horrible.” Drinking another swallow from the flask, Astra pockets it and then reaches for her own goblet. As Melvina excuses herself, the head of Slytherin turns. “Have a good night then, Headmistress.” Smirking at Darius’ offer, she chuckles into her goblet, “Same old Darius.”

(Faculty) Isolde Morgan finishes with her small meal and also begins to get to her feet. “My dear colleagues, it’s been a treat. I shall see you in the hallways, I’m sure.” She then also departs, not quite in the right direction, but it’s still early in the night.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh pulls, from some hidden pocket, a rather worn book and reads while eating an impromptu sandwhich–bits of roast beef tucked into roll. Her ears burn, but the Herbology Professor is urgently attempting not to listen to this scandelous conversation.

(Faculty) “Ah, how kind of you, Darius, dear,” Melvina beams, lifting herself from her seat with a decidely apprecative expression. “I wanted to discuss a few things with you, anyway. Music for my little surpise social, not the least of which. Hooking her arm in to his, she flashes a smile to Astra; a smile girded with flint. “And you, Astra, dear. We will talk, soon.” Reaching up to pat Darius’ arm affectionately, “Ready then?”

(Faculty) Darius Dwight smiles, “Of course,” and departs.

(Faculty) Bonnie Kensington finds herself wondering, too, what her office looks like, and perhaps, even, where it is. The Divination teacher gathers herself up, having finished eating. “I hope to get etter acquainted with you all very soon,” the woman states happily, standing. “I’m off to investigate my classroom and office.” She chuckles and walks away slowly, going to explore the castle, and finding that she doesn’t remember as much as she thought she would.

Olivia Baxtor strolls out into the path of to the side of the Quidditch pitch breathing in deeply. Even little miss neatness can appreciate that the sun has been poking its face out a bit and giving Hogwarts a reprieve from snow and rain. “So, that one is…” A pause as Olivia seems to be wracking her brain, and seeming rather distracted at it. “I can’t remember. What is it?” She glances at the plant again fleetingly before glancing up at the semi-clear sky. She smiles despite herself at it as she awaits the correct answer to which plant it is exactly that she is supposed to be identifying.

Clavicle Gravely comes walking along humming as he goes. he is juggling a few skulls, all of them well preserved.

Accompanying Olivia, Evan Geroff wanders off to the side of the path, more meandering than purposefully looking at the plants around him. He, too, seems to be enjoying the journey out, a light smile on his face, free without a cloack draped around him. He obligingly moves forward to peer at the plant Olivia points out, finally bending down to touch the leaves gently. “Dittany?” Head canted slightly, he pauses. “Have we studied that?” Well, no one said he didn’t need work at the subject. But he remembered a name! Standing, he glances at Olivia, his smile mixing with a faintly puzzled expression. It must be the sun. It does things to people.

Clavicle Gravely grins, the skulls are small animal skulls, and he sings as he walks along.

“I… no, I don’t think it’s Dittany.” The girl stoops down to look at it, carefully tucking her robes up safe from the mud. “Perhaps it’s colicroot?” She stands up, her parchment tucked under her arm rather carelessly. “You know, Evan, maybe we should have stayed closer to the pitch. I think I knew the plants back there.” Olivia glances at him and crosses her arms over her stack of parchment, her quill steadied in between her fingers (causing a later-to-be-woed inkspot on the back of the parchment). “Well, here, what do you suppose that one is there. The one with the bell hanging off of it.” A quick glance over her notes leads one to assume that the girl does not herself know.

“Could be,” Evan agrees, giving the plant a final look. Then he grins at Olivia. “It’s so much more exciting here though. See, that one looks like some kind of muggle flower – but maybe it bites.” To be sure, he pulls rolled up parchment from pocket, carefully unrolling it and making a show of examining it. “Here we go.. the vicious bell tower plant. When it’s satisfied, it rings the time.” One might dedict from this that he, also, is not sure of the real answer.

Clavicle Gravely places his juggling skulls in his robe and wanders over curiously. “What’s up?” asks the slightly creepy 1st year.

Unable to stifle her giggle, a snort seems to emit from Olivia as she covers her mouth, imagining the plant tolling the time. “There’s no such plant,” the girl asserts, brushing her hair carefully over her shoulder. She turns as the first year approaches. “Hello.” She says suddenly, trying to place him, as if she should recognize him. Upon deciding that she shouldn’t, she turns back to the plant and tickles it a bit with the end of her quill. “We’re just studying for Herbology.” A smile at the younger student. “Must be prepared for the exams, you know.”

Clavicle Gravely skids to a halt with a look of utter horror, “On…Purpose?” he looks at them like they turned into two headed muggles. “When you could be … doing.. something else?” he shivvers. “I better stay over here then…. plants hate me.”

Evan Geroff frowns at his notes, brow furrowed. “Must have written something wrong.” With a rather unconcerned shrug he re-rolls the parchment, stuffing it back into the pocket as he turns to look at Clavicle. “I didn’t get out here on accident. And this one won’t hate you, it’s very gentle and has a nice sound.”

Clavicle Gravely approaches slowly… but he has the exact opposite of a green thumb. Something about the boy just makes plants that are capable of mobility…dislike him. “Er… is that plant hissing?” his hand inches towards his wand.

“I imagine you’re not a fan of Herbology class, then.” Olivia smiles a bit, the clearer weather apparently helping her mood. “You’ve got at least three or four years left of it, so hopefully you can come to terms with it.” Olivia pauses. “Though I wish we could drop some of these classes. I hate how messy we’re expected to get in the course.” The girl stops and glances down at the plant. “No, I think it’s actually laughing.” She stops tickling it with her quill and stands. The plant seems to calm itself down a bit, and shrugs. “How many more plants should we do, Evan? I’m bored of this already.”

Clavicle says, “I’m good at finding Monkshood and wolvesbane blooms. they are similar species…nearly identical. And I had a cactus once…it died.” he says with a frown. “I rather think it is hissing…bidding it’s time. It’s probably a cousin of devil snare…” he eyes the plant suspiciously, “He’s got a dodgy look…for a plant.”

Evan Geroff laughs quietly. “If you’re bored, m’lady, then not a single one more. We ought to have packed a picnic.” He bends, as though to place himself on the ground, but gets almost nowhere near as he straightens again at Clavicle’s reply. “It looks nothing like devil snare, and it’s hardly big enough to strangle you. I truly do think you’re safe. A cactus, though? Whyever for?”

“A cactus? That sounds… interesting.” She shrugs a bit. “I doubt any of the plants on the grounds are about to eat you or attack you, though. The headmistress would never allow something like that to come near us.” Her voice is certain, but a moment later, she glances to Evan with an uncertain expression on her face. “Would she?” Olivia< shakes her head, as if trying to shake the thought from her head. “A picnic would have been wonderful, I agree. Too bad we’re supposed to be studying.” Olivia smiles in a closed-lipped fashion, her cheeks pink from the slight chill in the air.

Clavicle says, “I don’t know. I heard a rumour there was a grove of whomping willows they had where they sent students who did badly.” he frowns as he looks to the forest “Somewhere in there.”"

Evan Geroff gives his head a quick, definite shake. “No, Olivia, she would not allow anything that would harm us.” Outside of class, anyway. “That’s..” he pauses between words, looking at Clavicle, “why the forest is off limits. If the grounds were dangerous, they would be too.”

Despite the fact that it may not be extremely hot out, though still spring, Evan seems quite ready to spread out on the ground with talk and food and whatever else. If only they had some. “We’ll have to think of that next time, there’s no rule against studying and eating. Perhaps we should study the edible plants – that might cover potions and herbology.”

Clavicle Gravely blinks. “Now potions…I can do.” he grins. “But I am no good at finding the raw plant ingredients I fear.” he hmmms. “I found the recipe of a potion that makes you belch fire….”

“That sounds like a lovely idea. Maybe next year we’ll be able to study more of the edible plants.” She smiles and strides off of the plant a bit, away from the forest, and twirls in the grass a bit. “I’m glad it’s not raining. I was so hoping not to have to bring an umber-all — an umbral– whatever that thing is. The one that keeps you dry in the rain.” Olivia waves her hand around as she fumbles for the correct word and carefully sits down in the grass, making sure her robes won’t get damp or muddy. She does, however, wrap her scarf around her neck in an effort to keep warm.

Clavicle Gravely blinks. “You mean an umbrella? I have one in my room…if you want it. I am sure someone could make it rain for you?” the firsty grins a grin that is a touch too wide, and at his neck, a tatoo of a skeleton wearing a tophat pokes his head up and waves at the other students.

“Belch fire. That certainly sounds useful; one wouldn’t have to wait and try to become a dragon animagus then, would he?” Though Evan speaks to Clavicle, his eyes follow Olivia, pleased with the day and glad to see her enjoying it. “We don’t want to make it rain, it does quite enough of that on it’s own!” As Olivia sits down, he finally takes a second to do so as well, though he pays less attention to the ground below him as he sprawls on the ground, using his arms to prop up his back. “And if we truly do want an umbrella, it might be best to wait for the summer and go into one of the fancy shops in London, you could get quite a beautiful one there.. maybe find someone to enchant the design for you after you buy it.”

Clavicle says, “I thought enchanting muggle artifacts was illegal?” the boy asks He looks around at the other two students. “Isn’t it?”"

“I’m fairly sure it wouldn’t be right,” Olivia says in agreement, then pauses. “Though, I don’t see what harm it would do.” She pauses. “I wonder if it would be possible to get one with little flowers on it. Perhaps they could float around on the umb– umberella.” She looks from Evan to Clavicle and back again, trying to ascertain whether she has pronounced the word correctly. “That couldn’t possibly be harmful. Isn’t it only illegal if it could hurt someone?” Olivia is obviously not well-versed in the law. Understandable for a fourteen-year-old.

Clavicle says, “I am not wholly sure.” the youngish boy states. “In my families carnival we have to use a special mirror to divide the wizarding from the muggle section”

Evan Geroff shakes his head ‘no’ one time. “It doesn’t have to be harmful. Anything done to a muggle object.. some can be quite amusing, honestly..” He trails off, instead addressing the other part of Olivia’s words. “I don’t see how it’d hurt anything though, and who would even notice an umbrella? You couldn’t use it around muggles obviously, enchanting the flowers like that. But what wizard would mind the trick, as long as it wasn’t enchanted to attack people, or fly, or something like that?”

Olivia Baxtor smiles happily, thinking of such umbrella. “Could one also enchant a basket to stay cool, do you think?” She pauses. “Well, I imagine we make enough of our own baskets that it wouldn’t be bad. It would be very handy, don’t you think, to have a picnic basket that keeps itself cool. Then the sandwiches wouldn’t be warm, and one would have time to find the ideal spot.” She smiles up at the sky again, an unusual feat for her, so many times in one day, considering her consternation about her teeth.

Clavicle says, “The muggles have a thing that does that now. It’s called… a cooler. It holds ice in it…and that keeps the food cool.” he shrugs as he wanders around a bit. “My family’s carnival goes in both worlds… wait till you see their money.” Clavicle Gravely turns and looks at the writhing plants with a slightly green look. “Well er…..you all seem to be having a good day… so I have er, broom practice.” he nods. The practice is an optional study thing, but Clavicle bows with a flourish and heads off.

Evan Geroff smiles back at Olivia, with a nod of agreement. “Sure. A cool picnic basket would be wonderful.” .. “Besides, we have many basic articles that muggles also use, though ours are enchanted. Such as brooms; those are very different from muggle brooms. So the umbrella or the picnic basket might not cause a problem in any case.. I’m not sure of the intricacies of it all.” Not that he would be expected to be, at this point. And what possibilities, if they could start enchanting their own items! His eyes drift up to Clavicle, and he offers a lazy wave, before adding his own suggestion. “Why has noone ever enchanted all the cloaks and clothes to stay warm on their own in winter, I wonder?”

Olivia Baxtor pauses in thought as she considers this. “You know, I’m really not sure. I imagine it’s because we can knit things that keep us quite warm.” Another pause. “I wonder if Madame Malkin actually employs those kind of charms on the cloaks.” Olivia bites her lip in thought as she steps away from a plant that appears to be attempting to eat her cloak. “I wonder if that would cause problems in the spring and fall. Couldn’t one overheat if the cloaks were enchanted to stay warm?” She glances to Evan, her eyes still quizzical with thought.

Evan Geroff pushes his arms off the ground, sitting up straighter as he ponders this latest inquiry. “Is there a spell to sense how cold one is, that could be used? I haven’t heard of it, but there’s a lot left to learn.” With a thoughtful frown he shrugs once. “That would certainly be a problem if they overheated, but perhaps if they only put it on half the cloaks – and then everyone could buy one that was enchanted for warmth, and one plain.”

“That would get quite expensive, I imagine. Since I have a brother and two sisters, I don’t think my parents would buy both, so I would end up with just the plain ones.” She pauses. “But that’s alright. Most of the time I’m able to stay quite warm, as long as I have the correct layers on.” Olivia smiles a bit and sits down on the grass next to Evan. “I wonder if we could come up with a charm to do that. I’m sure it could be managed. We could come up with it, and name it after ourselves. Isn’t that what people do when they come up with charms and potions and things?”

Evan Geroff‘s eyes light up for a moment, excitement coupled, perhaps, with the Slytherin ambition. “We’d be famous! And then you could afford all the cloaks you wanted. You could make all the cloaks you wanted, if we invented the charm.” He even reaches into the pocket opposite his herbology notes, drawing out his wand, then looking along its length in contemplation. “So.. how do we start?”

Pulling her wand out of her pocket, Olivia points it down at her own cloak, pondering what one might say to make it detect her own body temperature. “I’m not sure how to start. Maybe we should check the library. There may be some books in there to help us get started.” She bites her lip. After all, Olivia isn’t the best student. The girl ponders a bit, trying to guage her own ability to complete such a task.

Evan Geroff chuckles quietly, not actually at Olivia, but at his own inability to have any idea how to start. “Well.. temperatus.. oh, what is the Latin word for temperature? Spells do seem to use latin a lot after all, but I’ve never studied it, I can’t speak it.” Something to add to his desire to study it later on in life, perhaps, though that won’t help him now. Rising further, to a kneeling position, he gives Olivia a questioning look. “Shall we try to look it up, then? I can’t think of an easy way to figure out the motion, but perhaps if we have a set of words to try first…”

“I can’t speak it either,” Olivia responds, biting her lip in response and brushing at her skirt, as if there could be grass on it. “Perhaps we should go inside and see about checking out a latin book to see if it can give us any hints. That way we can be sure to have the right words and … phrasing.” Olivia doesn’t seem to know exactly what she’s talking about, and her cheeks redden in embarrassment as she relaizes how silly she must sound saying it just this way.

If Olivia’s words are odd, Evan doesn’t seem to realize it from his minimal experience with foreign languages. “I don’t know how we’ll figure out what order and which specific words, but if we find a Latin book, we ought to begin by simply pulling out likely words..” In his excitement at this new adventure of sorts, he fully stands and moves a step toward the castle, giving his companion a grin and glance to see if she’ll follow. “Once we have that list, most likely the order of words will come into place. We just have to know them first.” Well, he’s nothing if not confident, anyway.

“Okay,” Olivia answers simply, standing up carefully and dusting off any dirt or grass that might be there, and continuing to dust for things that she might miss, though she doesn’t actually see any. “I’m sure the Library has loads of books that would help us pick the incantation to come up with it. It can’t be too hard, right?” She shrugs and begins to follow Evan toward the school. “We’ll have it figured out in no time.”

With Olivia following along, Evan begins to walk toward the school and eventually the library within, steps slightly quickened by the thought of what they’re about to figure out, or perhaps the glory involved in doing so. Either way, he turns to answer as they walk. “Might take a little work, but I’m not worried. Between the two of us we ought to figure it out without a problem. Perhaps they’ll give us automatic O’s on our charms work, as well as being famous. Maybe even automatic highest scores on the NEWTs..” One can certainly dream.

Skipping a little bit to catch up to Evan, Olivia crosses her arms over her parchment, holding her self-inking quill carefully in her fingers. “I think that would be wonderful, to get such high scores on the OWLs. I think I’ll spend all of fifth year just trying to make sense of everything so that I don’t fail them. Wouldn’t it be awful to fail? The girl shakes her head sadly and continues along the path. Their conversation does not end here, though it trails off as they enter the school, bound for the library and a slew of Latin books, in hopes of finding what they’re looking for.

Clavicle Gravely walks in, he’s carrying a suitcase and bows to the woman with a formal flourish…which looks a little silly, as he is so young. “Good evening madame. My family would like to supply you with a new confectionary treat.” He smiles hopefully.

“Er, well, that’s kind of you, but oughtn’t I be the one supplying you with the sweets, little man?” Maura leans on the counter, clad in her new purple and blue frock — her cousin’s insistence, certainly not hers — and grins at him. “But tell me what it is that you’ve got for me.” She smiles at him sweetly, glancing only momentarily at a group of little girls who seem to have caught the giggles.

Clavicle Gravely grins hugely, “The gravely seasonal confectionary inspired by our cousins in the central Americas, We proudly present…. The confectionary skull.” he opens his suitcase and a dozen skulls highly decorated are there. All made of sugar, One winks. “Hiya toots.”

Clavicle Gravely‘s skulls declare “Undale! Arriba!” “Hey…is this France?”

Maura Wexler appears to be taken aback by such a thing. “Oh, and… you all have charmed them to talk? How… quaint.” Maura can’t seem to get the look of shock off of her face as she stands there, gawking at the case of skulls. “I’m afraid they might be a bit too… frightening for many of the children who frequent here. We do get a lot of young ones, after all.” Maura shrug at him, looking rather leery of his case of skulls. “I would be more than willing to sell you some candy of course,” She suggests, coming back to her original tack. “And perhaps you could check at a shop in Hogsmeade. I hear there’s a knickknacks shop, full of odds and ends and unusual things that might just love something like that.”

Clavicle Gravely hmms. His uncle told him to make the sale. “They can be trained to be more polite…” One tries to get out of the case….by jawing it’s way up. Another waggles icing brows at the woman. “‘ello … Are you hungry? I was made for a pretty girrl like you to eat!” Clavicle smiles hopefully. “I didn’t charm them… my uncle did. We have a shy line as well. for the bashful childe.” He nods to the Hogsmeade advice. “We plan on stopping there as well…before term starts.”

“I hope you’ll have more luck there. I’d consult with my cousin, but I know what her answer would be. Everything in the shop here, we make ourseles. That is, I make it. She blows it up.” Maura chuckles to herself for a moment, before remembering the task at hand. “At any rate, I’m going to have to decline your sweet offer. I’m sorry.” She ponders for a moment. “But perhaps you’d like to try our newest concoction? It’ll turn your mouth many colors.” Maura smiles at the boy, hoping to spare his feelings.

Clavicle Gravely frowns. “Are you sure? we only ask 4 sickles for the lot?” he grins “They are made for Dia del Los Muertos… to celebrate.” he sighs. “Well…maybe you could just try one?” He grins. “We could call it a trade?”

Clavicle Gravely looks at the case where the One skull has escaped and is grinning. “Pick me.. pick me!” the skull has a frosting baseball cap on. “I’m great at running errands! Pick me!”

“I could try one, but I’m sorry, dear. It just isn’t even feasible for me to give you hope, since it would be false. You’re welcome to try our new candy; I won’t even charge for it, but we can’t buy your sweets. Have you tried the Leaky Cauldron?” Maura smiles helpfully, pausing to ring up one of the giggling girls. “I must reiterate that we won’t be able to sell your candy from our shop.”

Clavicle says, “I know. I understand. But Morty there really seems to like you.” he takes the candy she offers and closes the suitcase…and once again…bows with a showman’s flourish.”

“It’s still a no,” Maura tells him again gently, closing the register again after ringing up another girl. “Tell, ah, Morty there, that he’s going to have to find another shopkeep to attatch his little sugar teeth to.” Maura winks at the boy and pulls out a licorice rainbow, holding it out to the boy. “It ought to turn your mouth about six different colors at once, maybe more.” She grins, proud of her new concoction.

Clavicle Gravely‘s suitcase closes amongst cries of “Eat me. Eat me! ” He scoops up Morty and accepts the licorice. He grins as he heads out. “Thanks!”

Maura Wexler waves at the boy as he departs, chuckling to herself. Born salesman, that one. He’ll go far, Maura thinks to herself as she busies herself around the shop again.