Amidst the hustle and bustle of children of assorted ages and uniform colours, Gabriel Goden shoves his way through the masses in the Express’ corridor, Briony in tow. “Mooove,” Gabriel mutters under his breath, eventually spotting an empty section. “In here, Bri,” Gabe advises, turning his neck to make eye contact as he points. He opens the door with no intention of closing it himself and slumps onto a seat. The summer, against his will, had gone so fast, and now it was back to school. How could anyone be cheerful? “Well, another year,” Gabe says to Briony with a sigh.

With a bit of a flourish, the door opens again and Carrie Mary Jane Whittier enters the door. She’s carrying a smell pet carrier in which a siamese cat lays sleeping, a suitcase of clothes, and a small golden harp. But that’s not what draws attention from anyone who knew her before. When she left Hogwarts last year, Carrie had beautiful long red hair that used to fly behind her during quidditch matches. Now, it’s cut off into a jet black, bob-style haircut. Her face is powdered, and her lips painted into a petite blood red circle. “Terribly sorry to intrude,” She grins as she enters, “But all the other carriages are full.”

“Isn’t it exciting, Gabe-y?” Briony answers cheerfully, bounding in with a rather harried looking cat in her arms. “It’s okay, Whimsy. We’re going soon. Come on, Alden! Don’t straggle!” Briony sounds like quite the all-knowing older sister as she plops down as close to the window as she can, on the seat facing Gabriel. “I can’t wait for Quidditch this year, can you? I’m sure we’ll do better. I’ve been practicing all summer, of course. I want us to get the cup this year! And we’re going to do good with the Good Deed Club. Alden, you can be with us if you’re sorted into Gryffindor. Well, of course you’ll be Gryffindor. You should be, anyway. I’ll be terribly disappointed if you’re not. And, and, oh, I get to start the electives this year! I’m so excited to see the Divination teacher. Nearly everybody likes her!”

Alden Wexler follows Briony in to the cabin with a small sigh, his expression grave. “Don’t shout, Briony. It’s unbecoming, especially when I’m just behind you.” He lingers in the doorway for a moment, waiting for his older sister to find her seat and clear the way, before placing his suitcase neatly up in the rack and taking a seat near the door and opposite from Briony. His arms folding over his chest in a thoughtful way. He had vague feeling that this would be a long trip — much longer than the floo power ride still dusted his cheeks annoyingly with soot that delivered him to Diagon Alley.

Gabriel truly doesn’t recognize Carrie as he replies to her with, “Yeah, it’s no problem,” and turns to glare somewhat at Briony. “Exciting?” he echoes before he remains silent for a few seconds, not hearing much of what Briony says (though, this lack of attention can partly be defended by the notion that Gabe thinks she is mainly talking to Alden anyways. Though, it was hard to tell for Gabe sometimes). Despite the figurative cloud looming over him, he almost can’t help getting caught up in Briony’s excitement somewhat. Maybe this year would be better. Shrugging to Alden, Gabriel Goden sighs as he looks back to Briony. “This year will be great,” he says with the naive, hopeful tone so common of him in his younger years.

“I didn’t shout,” Briony comments, taking this in stride as she continues on. “Hi! You’re on Hufflepuff team, aren’t you?” she tells Carrie, but doesn’t linger. “Anyway, buck up, Gabe. We’re going back to Hogwarts! Your mum is still our House Head isn’t she? I like her being our House Head. Professor Calwern scared me a little bit. She had all those rules and I was afraid I was going to break some.” Briony shakes her head a bit and then shrugs, grinning cheerfully at her brother and her friend. “Why are you so glum? You’ve been this way all summer. It’s no fun. We didn’t even get to go on any adventures because of it.” A pout crosses Briony‘s face as she says this, but it doesn’t last long. “Maybe we can find some while we’re running through the Good Deed Club and solve them! We didn’t find many last year. It was really sad. I wish we had.”

Felicity Wexler lingers for as long as she is allowed on Platform 9 3/4 — standing beside next to a short, silver-haired woman in her early seventies, who leans heavily on a cane. With one arm linked with the elderly woman, helping support her, Felicity talks in near tears to her until the whistle blows it’s last warning and the ushers begin making final shouts. And it’s with deep, obvious reluctance that Felicity parts with her (not for the least of the matter that the lack of support almost causes the old woman to fall over, until two men on the platform come to help), make it on to the train. Tears in her eyes that she fights to hold back, Felicity makes her way quickly to the nearest cabin with a window looking out on her Grandmother Larsen — and without worrying about it being Briony who she has to press close to in order to look out the window and wave, she abandons her suitcase at the door and cuts straight to her objective, watching sadly as the two men help the old muggle woman toward a hearthstone so she can return home.

Sitting down to the lukewarm reaction from Gabe, Carrie actually bursts out in a tiny laugh, “You really don’t recognise me, do you? I’m offended, Mr. Gabriel Goden. I stole the quaffle enough times from you last year to think you’d have noticed me.” She winks, and plucks at her harp, noting, “Briony here has a sharper mindski, I see.” She also smiles to Felicity as she comes in, and quips, “Oh, my! I’ve boarded the Wexler compartment, I see!” Her smile doesn’t dip, though, and she even begins to play a quiet tune on the harp.

“What?” questions Gabriel, confused at Carrie and showing it with a perked eyebrow and ignoring Briony for the time being. “Oh,” he says, realization dawning on him finally. “Right, I guess I recognize you, K… C… uhh…” he stutters with her name, though he probably did know it at one point. “Yeah, I recognize you,” he says quickly and looks away, a little flushed. As luck would have it, he turns immediately to the teary Felicity. Even worse! Girls and their emotions…! In a last effort, he turns to Briony, safe and always cheerful Briony. “Yeah, I… I…” he starts before crossing his arms and smiling, maybe a little falsely. “I’ll tell you later… this summer was kind of… a failed mission.” He shrugs. “But yeah, my mum’s the head of Gryffindor again this year.”

Alden Wexler arches a brow as Felicity comes bolting in to the compartment, leaving her suitcase at what is, essentially, his feet. Exhaling a long sigh as the Felicity leans over Briony to get to the window, knowing at least in part the nature of the girl’s apprehension and tears, Alden (much like Gabe) looks away. Though his motion is bore more out of modesty than any embaressement. Without a word, he rises, takes Felicity’s trunk, and stretches himself once more to place it in to the racks.

As Felicity continues to cry, Carrie finally breaks her carefully constructed image to shuffle next to her and ask, “Hey, hey. You alright, Jane?” She rubs a hand over Felicity’s shoulder. “It’s alright… shush. It’s alright. I’ll play you a song, OK? Make everyone happy here?”

“Hey, I was here first,” Briony comments and frowns a bit. Felicity isn’t her favorite cousin, after all. Does Briony have a favorite cousin. “Get your own window seat if you want one.” Briony doesn’t say this with as much sourness as usual, because having seen Felicity’s grandmother, even Briony can’t help but feel a little bit sad for the girl. “Oh, a failed mission?” Briony responds to GAbriel, looking almost concerned at it. “Why did it fail? You should have let me help! We would have succeeded together. After all, I’m thirteen now. I’m every bit as good at stuff as you.” So Briony thinks anyway. The train has begun moving, and Briony shoots a beaming look of pride to Alden. “Look, isn’t it nifty? The train ride is so fun.”

Wiping a few tears from her cheeks that manage to escape despite her best efforts, Felicity looks briefly to Carrie — smiling a little, in a brave sort of way, before rising and pulling away somewhat from Briony and the window. “No, thank you, I’m alright –” Briony’s words, strangely, are somewhat comforting to her. The mild harshness in her tone is familiar, and so it’s in the nature of that solid rock that she pushes Briony on the arm (though decidedly more gentle than she would most other times, matching Briony’s understated kindness with some of her own) before flopping down next to her Gryffindor cousin. She passes a small smile of thanks back to Alden, for his putting her suitcase away, and decidedly keeps her gaze from the window as the trainstation fades well from view. Otherwise, she remains quiet.

“I said I’ll tell you later,” Gabriel re-states with much emphasis, eyeing the others in the compartment furtively. Really, it wasn’t the type of ‘mission’ one discussed openly while among others. “And…” though it pains Gabriel to say it, “I… don’t know if you’ll be able to help. Or anyone.” He blinks quickly a couple times before forcing a smile again and trying to change the subject. “It’s okay, Felicity, it’ll be summer again soon. Just think about how fast last year went,” he lies, trying to make her feel better about leaving.

Felicity Wexler nodding slightly to Gabe, in response to his comforting words — words she knows to be false, but words that are comforting never the less, she puts on her best smile, in an attempt to convince herself that she might believe them. Her hands fold in her lap, and she finally turns her gaze to Alden — somewhat curious what it is that Gabe is whispering about, but feeling a little to down to pry. “Are you excited?”

Alden Wexler shifts his gaze back to Felicity once she has regained control of herself, his expression mute — excitement, it would seem, wasn’t a part of his typical profile. “About Sorting, you mean?” Alden murmurs, thoughtfully. His voice mildly high pitched, and somewhat effeminate despite the clarity and certainty he pours in to his words. It only adds to the general air of “delicacy” that radiates from the child. “Not especially, no.”

Keelan Walsh is standing on the platform, covered in robes that seem impervious to the rain that falls thickly from the sky. “First year students, please, this way!” She swings about a lantern, held high over her already considerably tall head, to emphasize her location. “Everyone else, the carriages are–over there!” Indeed, the carriages are lit rather warmly, as though they’ve been fitted with heating for the particularly blustery weather this Sorting day. “Come on, first years! We’ve got a lovely trip planned for you.” If being drowned from above while floating across an icy lake in the dark could possibly be considered fun.

Kara Raine hopes off the train, turning back to wave towards Rhyne. “Good luck! See you at the feast.” Glancing around, the second year tries to stay up with her fellow Ravenclaws, trying to see where they need to go next. No boat for her this year.

Alden Wexler hardly seems to notice the rain as Keelan calls out for the first years — quite despite the fact that in a little under a few moments, the poor boy in new school robes is throughly soaked, head to foot. Without a word, he does as instructed, following Keelan along the way. Ugh, rain. Olivia sighs and pulls her hood up carefully, tucking her hair back into the hood as best she can, though the water has not done nice things to it. “I’m glad we’re finally here,” she comments to Evan, making her way to the carriage and stepping into one several down.

Exiting the train, Evan pauses after a few steps to hear Keelan’s familiar voice and watch the first years begin to separate. He looks in particular for one first year boy; upon spotting the child confidently walking off toward Keelan with a few others, he hurries to follow Olivia into the carriage.

Riley Markham throws a somewhat cold look up at the Faculty table as he enters the Great Hall — wine red hair soaking wet despite his brief exposure to the rain. His expression is nothing short of rageful as it falls upon the Headmistress, before he flops down at the Ravenclaw table with a dark, dark hiss.

(Gryffindor) Being seemingly confused due to the events in the train compartment, Andy sits down at the Gryffindor table, keeping an eye on Orion. As Felicity comes in, he wishes he could be invisible or vanish in the ground. Still unsure how to handle the experience he looks down to the table, glancing up only from time to time, checking Orion and the Faculty table.

(Gryffindor) Forcing himself into something resembling a cheerful mood, Gabe glances up to the faculty table, too, as he seats himself at Gryffindor’s table. After he is unable to catch his mother’s eye (she seems busy talking to a child at the table, go figure), Gabriel shrugs, acting like he didn’t try to make eye contact in the first place. “These feasts are always the same, have you noticed?” he asks Briony with a perked brow. “Not that it’s a bad thing,” he adds, catching himself in what could be interpreted as a negative comment.

(Gryffindor) “Well, I suppose so,” Briony answer quickly, shrugging a bit. “I like watching people get sorted. And my brother’s going to be sorted, so I’ve got to pay attention. I do hope he’s in Gryffindor like me and mum and dad. I’ll be so disappointed if he isn’t.” She pauses. “Though, I’ll still like him no matter what house he’s in.” She sounds very rehearsed as she states this and then leans down with her chin in her palm. “I dunno if I’d like him to be in Slytherin, though. I don’t know many Slytherins that I like. I think they’re too mean.” Clearly, the girl hasn’t had many run-ins with Slytherins.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler sinks down in to a seat next to Andy, looking preoccupied and tired. Her gaze lowers toward her empty plate, and almost idly, she reaches up and takes a curly lock of hair between her fingers before absently moving it toward her lips.

(Gryffindor) “Like my sister you mean?” Gabe asks with a grin. “If she’s a model Slytherin, I’m glad that we don’t have much to do with them,” he says. “If my mum would have had another kid, I bet it would have been in Ravenclaw. Then mum would have a full set,” muses Gabriel , idly scratching an eyebrow. “It’s strange how we all ended up in different houses I think,” he continues with, picking up a fork and standing it on its tines, though not letting go. “Don’t you think?” he asks Briony, looking down afterwards.

(Gryffindor) “I guess it kind of is,” she answers cheerfully. “But my dad was in Gryffindor, and then Uncle Logan was in Slytherin — dad still doesn’t like that; I think he wishes Uncle Logan had been Gryffindor, too — and then Uncle Jared was a Ravenclaw and Uncle Gilbert was Hufflepuff, and then Uncle Freddie was Gryffindor, too, and Auntie Eva was Ravenclaw. So I guess they have all the houses, too. Maybe it’s not that uncommon. I wonder if any families have only people who go to one house. That would be neat, don’t you think?” Briony giggles as she says this, thinking more about it. “Imagine, a whole family of Ravenclaws. I bet they’d all own libraries!”

(Gryffindor) “No, no,” Gabriel says, being caught up in his excitement of times past. “One, a sister, would own a library. The parents would own a dusty museum and the brother would be the manager of Flourish and Blotts,” he says, ticking the entities off on his fingers. “The youngest sister would be an editor for the romance novels of the oldest sister, and the oldest brother would be a guide on the tours of his parents’ museum,” he says, grinning as he pictures the family, all with inch-thick glasses and disheveled hair.

(Gryffindor) “My mum was in Slytherin,” Felicity says, quietly, turning her gaze toward Gabriel and Briony. Her tone is somewhat shy, almost as if she isn’t certain she should be joining thier conversation. But all told, she needs to talk, to get the image of the receeding train station out her mind. “Dad, too, I think. I’ve never asked him. Not sure about my sisters, either, though I’d bet Maura was in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.” Felicity didn’t have much oppertunity to speak to her family often, socially, considering how busy they all were.

(Gryffindor) Sensing the pathetic tone in Felicity’s voice, without really understanding what she, Briony and Gabriel were talking about, Andy is torn between staying quiet and involve in the conversation and maybe find out what was her cause of concern. He finally lifts his gaze and turns to his housemates. “Hey, I…ahm…unfortunately didn’t find you in the train.” he attempts with a tiny voice.

(Gryffindor) “You don’t even know what houses they were in? How could you not know?” Gabe asks Felicity, obviously surprised at learning these things. Just how someone could never have heard what houses their family members were in is completely lost on Gabriel. The boy shrugs as he lets the subject drop, sensing somewhat that Felicity is still a bit depressed about leaving that woman he saw her waving to.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler cringes a little with subtle voracity of Gabriel’s question. Any other time, and she might have bristled, lashed back with a stressed few words of her own which, likely, would met and exceeded anything Gabe’s slightly exasperated question might have delivered with a hint of sack full of righteous anger. However, the simple fact that she has had a lingering, mild crush on Gabe ever since they were first years, combined with the nature of her current, delicate state, instead only lowers her voice and makes her retreat a little. “I.. mum and dad.. are just busy, I don’t see them.. much, and Maura and Ariena are so much older than me.. and they’re gone, living on their own.. and really, it’s just me and Grandmother Larsen.. and she’s a muggle..” Her voice sort of drifts away, accepting Gabe’s willingness to shrug and let it go, before turning to look to Andy. “What cabin were you in? Who did you sit with?”

Entering later than the other faculty, Astra wipes her hands nervously on her robes. Hurrying up to the table, she doesn’t greet anyone or even Arriving at the faculty table; she walks around behind it and takes her seat.

(Gryffindor) Andy shudders a bit at Felicity’s question, but answers right away. “Uhm…It was the…third, yes. And there was this Hufflepuff with me. Orion. I suppose you know him?” Andy tries to look into her eyes for the first time this evening. He can’t hide a hint of reproach in his glance.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler blinks, twice, before looking at Andy wide-eyed. “You sat with Orion Kari?” A small, quiet hint of excitement fills her voice as she turns in her seat and reaches out to take both of Andy’s hands in both of her own. “What was he like? What happened? Did he say anything?”

(Gryffindor) Another world collapsing for Andy, every crumb of hope has just been blown away. Shutting his eyes for a split second, Andy gathers some power to be able to speak again. “He has been drawing, just sitting around, not talking much or let’s say hardly anything. Just not my type of person to be with, I think.” he replies, rolling his eyes a bit.

Keelan Walsh leads the firt years out of the Waiting Room, most of them still soaking wet, Keelan herself strangely dry as she removes a ridiculously large cloak. Up she goes toward the head of the room, darting a glance at the other faculty with a ‘And why do I have to do this?’ look on her face. Then there’s a brief smile as she disappears off to the side. Returning, she carries with her the age-old stool (although it’s sturdy) with an ages-older rumbled bit of hat. This is set down in front of the Faculty table and she steps aside, clasping her hands silently in front of herself.

Fern Featherstone follows after Keelan. Her upper teeth press gently against her thin lower lip as she attempts to control her nerves, while looking over the room from beneath the curtain of her sparse lashes. She then tilts her narrow chin and looks up toward the ceiling. A gasp is heard, but Fern stubbornly and with much pride tries to control her vocal and trembling reaction. When the hat begins to sing, she looks upon it with a nervous kind of suspicion. She then looks toward the other first years, waiting to see what how they respond before stepping into a line.

Alden Wexler widens his eyes at that last line — no matter how composed a young boy appears about the process of Sorting — the notion of possibly being bitten by a old, dirty hat raises a hint of alarm as regards the patched bit of leather on the stool from the end of the line of first years. Still, he remains quiet, hands clasped in front of him, regaining his composure with a small shake of his head that sends droplets raining in a meager arch around him.

Keelan Walsh unclasps her hands and produces from a pocket a thick role of parchment. Unfurling it a bit, she repeats the instructions, “When I call your name, step up and place the hat upon your head, please. Peering through her spectacles at the first name, her voice comes, a bit unsteady, truth be told. “Castle, Rhyne!”

“I’m going to be in Slytherin, I know it,” Satinka tells Seker in a quiet whisper as she crosses her arms. Her voice is stronger and more certain than the look on her face would have one believe, but the girl appears rather focussed on the old-looking hat that sits nearby and then glances to Keelan. “Oh, I wonder where he’ll be sorted,” she comments and watches with interest as the first name is called.

Rhyne Castle makes his way to the Sorting Hat and settles it firmly on his head, doing his best to project more confidence than he actually feels. He waits in silent anticipation for the hat’s verdict.

Rhyne Castle blinks, owlishly, as he removes the hat, looking just a little bit bewildered. Although the bemused expression doesn’t fade entirely, it is joined by something at least resembles pleasure, and he puts on a more-or-less convincing smile as he goes to join his new housemates.

Falling into line behind Satinka, Seker only nods and watches nervously as Rhyne is sorted. “I met him in Hogsmeade,” comments Seker after a moment, clapping as the boy is declared a Ravenclaw. “Well, it looks easy,” Seker notes, sighing.

Fern Featherstone shifts her slight weight from one narrow foot to another as she stands in the line. She watches as Rhyne is sorted, seemingly slightly less nervous now. Her thin lips curve into the ghost of a smile. She then glances between Satinka and Seeker, clearly listening to their words.

“It didn’t hurt him, it looks like. Looks kind of easy. All you have to do is wear it. I wonder what it does. Do you suppose it just randomly picks, or if it really does decide based on, well, how you are?” Satinka whispers back, watching for the next name to be called while Rhyne makes his way to Ravenclaw table.

Keelan Walsh calls out, “Cowper, Jason,” who takes approximately four seconds before the hat calls, “Gryffindor!” and then Keelan calls another Ravenclaw, then a Slytherin and “Featherstone, Fern!”

Alden Wexler applaudes politely as Rhyne Castle is sorted in to Ravenclaw, squinting a little as the newly sorted student removes the hat as if he might actually be able to see if the leathery bit of rag actually had teeth or not to carry out the threatened biting.

Fern Featherstone approaches the hat with tentative steps, suggesting that the slender girl is rather shy. Still she throws back her narrow shoulders and lifts her dainty chin, as if trying to display a bit of pride. She reaches for the hat, while frowning with distaste in response to its ragged appearance. She then places it upon her head, leaving her lank ragged dark locks to cascade against her shoulders. Her breath quivers in the hollow of her pale slender throat, as she awaits the sorting and her small form is tense, as she sits still, silent and statue like.

Keelan Walsh claps a bit awkwardly and briefly and then continues on with two Hufflepuffs, another Gryffindor, “Linwood, Patricia!” who goes to Gryffindor as well, a Ravenclaw followed by a Slytherin and two Gryffindors and then, with a smirk, Keelan announces, “Rathe, Satinka!”

“There’s no way it’s random, are you joking me?” Seker whispers in an incredulous tone to his sister. “Haven’t you heard of the families who all get into one house, no fail?” Seker questions, crossing his arms. “No, it’s got to read your mind or something,” he says with determination, though clapping idly. “We’ll be joining her in a few minutes, hopefully,” Seker says, watching the girl go to sit down. “Go!” Seker says suddenly.

Looking startled, Satinka lets out a gasp as her name is called, and glances back at her brother, walking to the stool with unusual caution. Hesitating a moment, she looks at the hat, and then picks it up, simultaneously plopping it on her head while sitting quickly onto the stool. She bites her lip and closes her eyes up tight, seeming to be in deep conversation, or else in deep pain while she wears the illustrious hat.

With very little pause, Keelan announces, “Rathe, Seker!” as if she really needed to emphasize that he was next in line.

Still taking deep breaths, Seker does smile as his sister is sorted, nodding in her direction. One down! Now the other Rathe needed to be placed rightfully as a son of Slytherin. Hearing his name called, Seker feels like choking and fainting (life is so hard), but instead nods and steps up to the hat, sitting down and putting it on.

“It isn’t random,” Alden assures them, finally, as Satinka’s name is called. Though he chooses not to elaborate on anything else he might have gleaned from his summer reading. He draws a deep breath the closer it gets to his name being called, idly wondering if it were better that his last name was poised at the end of the alphabet, or if it might have been more simple to be at the beginning and get it over with. Indeed, despite all appearances, he is nervous. Though largely, it’s more rooted in the fact that his mother is watching from the faculty table, and seemingly a half dozen relatives are all scattered in the audience, eagerly awaiting another Wexler in their house, and sure to give him guff should he fail to share it.

Stunned, it is a few seconds before Seker comprehends the word emitted from the hat. “What?” he asks, standing up and turning around to look at his mother, his face a mask of surprise and horror. He can’t bring himself to try and look at Satinka, not after she made it and he didn’t. What is this. What it this? Seker is in a stunned reverie as he stumbles to the Hufflepuff table, not thinking, yet, to look for Rafe or any of the other Hufflepuffs he’s acquainted with. It was probably a prank or something. Well, Seker would play along for now. “Hello!” Seker greets his ‘housemates’ with a put-on genial demeanor. “What are we having?” he asks, pointing to his empty plate with a perked brow.

Keelan Walsh chokes a bit on the next name, though Sheldon, Galen sorts to Slytherin all the same. Three Ravenclaws, a Gryffindor, and yet another Hufflepuff later, she calls, “Wexler, Alden!” who is second to last in the world of Sorting unless someone has been missing from the list or Keelan‘s recitation of names.

Alden Wexler swallow a breath, Alden steps forward, moving toward the stool and the old, patched hat with an even stride. He pauses briefly to glance up at the faculty table toward Sibyl, then to the Gryffindor table toward Briony and Felicity, before exhaling a long sigh and lifting up the Sorting Hat. With a grave expression, he climbs on to the stool and places the hat on his head.

(Gryffindor) Gasping, Briony‘s face falls ever so slightly as her brother is sorted into Hufflepuff. Brothers apparently are to go to different places than their sisters this year, and it is clear that Briony was hoping rather hard for him to come to Gryffindor. “He would have made such a dandy Gryffindor,” she comments. “It’s sad, now he’s a Hufflepuff.”

His eyes somewhat wide, caught a little off guard by the insight of the hat, Alden quietly removes the cap after it’s shout and slides off the old, solid stool. “Thank you,” he says, politely, to the ragged bit of leather, before turning toward the cheering table to take his seat. He was certain he could feel Briony gaping at him from behind.

Keelan Walsh calls out, “Wexler, Kyler!” who takes a seat and sits there for so long Keelan is actually startled to hear, “Slytherin!” call forth from the hat. With one last look over the assembled students, she rolls up the parchment, claps briefly, and takes the stool and hat away. When she returns, it is to her seat at the faculty table, where she relaxes, duties done.

Melvina Prichard rises from the faculty table purposefully once the ritual of Sorting has concluded, lifting her nimble, long-fingered hands in a suggestive way as she beckons the student audience for silence. “Excuse me, quiet please — yes, that includes you, Mister Alcot.” Her voice is thick and strong, but laced with an ever-present hint of amusement. An almost coy half-grin touches her lips, looks over the heart of her school.

“Greetings, everyone,” Melvina calls, her voice dancing across the Great Hall at a comfortable volume. “Welcome to your school year nineteen hundred and twenty seven! I trust that all of you enjoyed your summer vacations! As I’m sure most you of you are now aware, my name is Melvina Prichard and I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts school. Last year, all of you helped give this blustering, frugal old woman a home and a purpose. This year, I hope to reward and repay each of you for that wonderful gift. Now, pressing on, I’ve some beginning of term announcements to make.” Clearing her throat, the Headmistress pulls a pair of spectacles from her emerald robe pocket and resting them on the bridge of her nose, before gathering up a tightly-bound scroll sitting next to her empty plate.

“All the usual suspects, 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, Whimple’s Pimple Powder..” Demonstratively, she allows the end of the scroll to slip from her fingers, clatter to the table, spill over the edge, and roll across the floor Great Hall until it exhausts itself somewhere near the door of the waiting room across the entrance hall. A somewhat playful glint sparkling in her eyes, Melvina sets her end of the very long list down and vanishes it with a flick of a wand which she withdraws from the sleeve of her robes. “As you can see, the list goes on. Be sure to check it.”

After a small bubble of laughter, Melvina takes up a blessedly smaller sheet of parchment. “Hogwarts tradition demands that I remind you the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds for all students. As seems to happen every year since antiquity, some of you will most certainly forget that pesky little rule. It just slips out, squeezed away from the building pressure of knowledge our fine professor work so hard to fill your head with over the year.” 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 beside you, and that such acts will usually will result in a substantial loss of house points as well.” With a small, meaningful glance around and a pause to clear her throat and savor a sip of pumpkin juice, 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, Andrew Larson and Margaret Cresterton. Mister Larson and Miss Cresterton, please stand.” She applauds once the two have risen, leading those who care to join her in a modest round of congratulations, before continuing on.

“Well done, Head Boy, Head Girl,” the Headmistress says, sincerely. “On to faculty. There are many exciting changes in Hogwarts staff this year, so to begin I hope you all with help me in welcoming Professor Phoebe Helit whom will be heading up our Muggle Studies department, and Professor Addison Williamson whom will helm our History of Magic class.” Melvina holds for a pleasant-enough round of applause before plowing on. “Also, though she has been with us a great while, I hope you’ll all help congratulate and welcome Professor Rathe in to her new role as Deputy Headmistress. Naturally, she’ll continue to provide you all with excellent lessons in your Defense Against the Dark Arts courses as well.” Another pause for applause, and quietly surprised murmurs — it was hardly a secret that last year Professor Rathe could hardly stand Professor Prichard. Now she was Deputy Headmistress? “Sadly, I must inform you that Professors Calwern and Ashcroft have chosen to step down. Professor Fallon will properly replace Professor Calwern as Gryffindor head of house.”

Following a deep, relieved breath and Melvina finally sets down the parchment and removes her glasses. “That said, I have only one more announcement to mention before we start in on the delicious feast I know you’re all patiently waiting to savor. This is my second year as Headmistress of Hogwarts school — last year was a daring step on to the path of the uncertainty for all of us. A maiden voyage, where bold choices were made, some rising to shimmering brilliance, others not so much. But in this second year, the fright of the unknown fades as well all walk in a comfortable security. Each sure we know, or at suspect, of what to expect It is in this peaceful repetition that we as a family forge traditions. Thus, I announce to you all our first of many traditions, the second annual Barefoot Social.” A sly, almost devillish grin dances over the lips of the Headmistress. “A celebration of the new term, greeting those whom are just joining us, and welcoming home those of us returning for another year. This dance will semi-formal, open to all years, and include an… outdoor feast.” The too-clever look on her face almost seems to gloat, briefly, as she looks out at her young crowd. Obviously, she is terribly proud of herself. “As this is the mother of tradition, we shall follow the precident set by last year’s grandmother event — the ladies will need ask the gentlemen for the honor of an afternoon’s courtship.” She waits, eagerly, for the reaction to that before at last finishing up. “I will be resuming the Student Events Committee, made up of students from all years to help me prepare for the Barefoot Social, Governor’s Ball, and a handful of other special events I have planned through out the school year; 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. Let’s eat.” And with small nod and a sly, lingering grin, she slips casually back in to her seat.

Rising from her place at the faculty table and clearing her throat loudly in a meaningful manner, Melvina lifts her hands motions for the room to quiet. The hall is lavishly decorated in blue and silver, as seems the tradition for the current house points holder. “Hello, dear students of Hogwarts term 1926 to 1927. Or, more aptly, I should say, goodbye. What a year it has been! Yes, indeed. But, before we travel much further done this ceremonial road designed to fill our bellies, hearts, and minds until our next fine year of learning, it is my great honor of announcing to you all we have with us a special guest, joining us for a good-will mission of sorts. If you will please direct your attention, and warmly welcome…” withdrawing her long wand from the sleeve of her emerald green robes, Melvina gives the length of cherry wood a dramatic flick. The huge double doors at the rear of the hall swings open slowly, their loud creak filling the room.

(Gryffindor) Though the gryffindor has been chattering almost incessantly to her friends, when Melvina begins to speak, Briony clams up quickly, staring up at the front of the room. Now is not the time to lose more points for Gryffindor, of course. It wouldn’t be the right way to end the year. “Who do you reckon is coming?” she asks those around her as the doors open and she cranes her head to see what’s going on at the back of the room.

(Gryffindor) Not one to be outdone by the likes of Briony, Rawnie was chatting it up quite feverently herslef and had to be nudged several times by her neighbor before she was stifled sufficiently. “Maybe it’sa troll.” Whispers Rawnie to Briony, it’s no secret she had been wanting to see one since the begining of the year.

As the doors swing open to allow a view into the entrance hall, it is Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic, who is revealed standing behind them. Her eyes flit over the tables of students quickly, head not turning, before she takes her first steps into the room. From there it is a straight walk up the middle aisle, somewhat formal dark robes swishing slightly as they hang around her, until she has joined Melvina at the front of the hall. When she reaches it she gives a brief nod of greating to Melvina. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

(Gryffindor) Leaning back, away from the fainting chatter, Andy Carver pays attention to what the Headmistress has to tell them. Brisky turning around to the opening entrance door he almost falls over and saves himself by taking a hold of the table. “Hm, who’s that?” he asks, feeling sort of uninformed.

(Gryffindor) “It’s the Minister for Magic,” Briony hisses to Andy with a wide-eyed expression. “I got to meet her at the Ball! Oh, she’s so important!” Briony seems not to know what other adjective to apply to the woman as she stares with interest, almost rising in her seat to see better over the tall person nearby.

Melvina Prichard returns the nod with one of her own, her lips painted with a quiet, half-amused grin that is pertepually a part of her character. Perhaps more so now than on average. She did so enjoy the dramatics. “Naturally, Minister,” she replies, before finishing her introduction to the crowd. “Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic.” She offers some time for the stunned silence and whatever applauses might creep up out of the shock, before pushing on. “The Minister’s time is short, and she has a very special purpose for visiting us today, so I will turn the floor, and my pedistal, over to her. Minister?” Stepping away from the podium from which Melvina usually stands behind, she motions for Sylvie to take it, before returning to her seat.

(Gryffindor) A sigh of dissapointment from Rawnie, “I wish it was a troll. Witha big club’n everthin.” She mutters pokeing at her empty plate before turning attention to the Head Mistress again curiously…. but still pouty.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler actually drops her pumpkin juice as the Minister for Magic enters, and lets out a fairly loud squee as it stains her skirt, immediately grabbing up as many napkins — her own, and her neighbors, to try to contain the mess as best she can while turning a fairly brilliant shade of red.

(Gryffindor) “A troll? Well, that would be exciting, I admit,” the girl tells her housemate with a bit of a giggle until she notice that her napkin has been stolen up. “Hey, that’s mine, FeLICity,” Briony tells her cousin with a scowl. “You shouldn’t take things without asking. It’s just a bit of pumpkin juice.”

“Thank you, again.” As Melvina takes her seat, Sylvie turns to fully face the students, pausing a moment as she looks over them again before she starts speaking. It’s been a few years since she’s been in this exact position, after all, though many of the older students are still familiar. “I am here today to honor two of your peers, two of the wizarding world’s finest citizens, for their great efforts put forth this past year on behalf of one of your professors.” A very quick glance is directed back at Karina. “Miss Eliza Marlowe, Mister Martin Foster, would you please join me?”

(Gryffindor) “Just a bit of pumpkin juice?” Felicity says, her voice becoming a bit shrill, even as she tries to whisper. Sylvie’s words, however, give her pause, as she looks up front while maddly dabbing at her skirt as if it would help the orange liquid from settling in.

(Gryffindor) Andy Carver really feels dumb now, but does not try to find and excuse. “Oh, politicians…” he rolls his eyes and sends a commiserating smile to Felicity as she tries to recover her skirt. As a quarrel seems to be about to begin between the cousins she hisses back, adressing both of them with a blink. “Psst, the Minister.”

(Gryffindor) “She’s the one making noise, don’t psst at me,” Briony retorts irritably and scoffs at Felicity. “You should just learn a charm for that,” the girl tells her cousin and turns her face to Sylvie as the Minister begins to talk. “Oooooh, I wonder what they’re being honored for! I want to be honored!”

With a startled gasp, Eliza Marlowe springs to her feet, unfolding gracefully to her full height despite the fact that her mouth is still hanging open in surprise. It stays open as she exchanges a glance across the room with Martin over the heads of the other students – then looks back to the Minister, and then to Karina, and then to the Minister again. Slowly at first, and then faster as the initial shock wears away, Eliza strides down the aisle towards the head table, a slow, incredulous smile beginning to spread across her face.

(Gryffindor) “Quiet ya ninnys!” Whispers Rawnie to her table suddenly and uncharacteristicly as Martin and Eliza are called. “I bet there gunner get a reward er somthin.” She says with a bright smile tossing Felicity one of her own napkins.

(Gryffindor) Andy Carver smiles and applauds as the headgirl’s and headboy’s names are announced. “Maybe we’ll be seeing you walking up there in a few years.” Andy grins to Briony. “I wonder what she’ll tell them…or give them…” he considers.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler makes a vague clucking noise with her tongue at the notion of Briony being honored, though she sagely keeps any further commentary to herself, actually to curious about what it is that the Minister for Magic has come all this way to do.

Sylvie Winters-Geroff offers a brief smile to the Head Boy and Girl as they walk forward, waiting until both have reached the front of the room before she speaks again. “Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe played a crucial role in researching and apprehending Immanual Irving, a man who was working illegally to create and test dangerous potions.” She leave the explanation at that; the news of the trial likely spread even to here. “In doing so, they also cleared the name of Professor Sedgewick, for which I know we are all very grateful.” “For their skill, determination, and bravery in assisting the Ministry in this way, each will be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class.”

(Gryffindor) “I will be honored someday,” Briony comments quietly, then clapping cheerfully as the Minister announces the Head Boy and Girl’s work in apprehending a criminal. Her applause is loud, though she does not deign to whistle as she might otherwise. After all, Briony has some sense of decorum when she needs to.

(Gryffindor) “Woo! Way ter go!” Yelps Rawnie as she cheers with the rest of the school as the two students are awarded, in the middle of her excitement she pauses and leans over the table asking “Wot’s this order-o-Merlin thing?” Yes utterly clueless as usual but being raised Muggle gives her ignorance an exscuse at least.

“What?” Eliza‘s exclamation carries to every corner of the Great Hall, and her mouth hangs open again for a moment after it is done. She looks swiftly over at Martin, as if to check whether he’s heard the same thing that she has. “Order of – First class?” Eliza repeats, her powerful voice barely a whisper now. And then she looks back at Sylvie, gulps, and straightens up, unfurling her shoulders to stand at attention before the Minister. Another smile starts to edge up the corners of Eliza‘s mouth, smaller, wondering, and proud.

(Gryffindor) Andy Carver‘s jaw drops. “An Order of Merlin First Class?” A warm feeling of joy emerges from deep inside of him and he applauds loudly. Amazed he settles again. “Unbelievable, it must be like a dream comes true for them.” he says, still beaming.

(Gryffindor) “First class!” the girl gasps loudly. “It’s the top award they can get!” Briony tells Rawnie and stands up a bit, clapping loudly again. “Oh, my… can you imagine? We should be so lucky.”

Slight smile back as she watches Eliza and Martin’s reactions, Sylvie waits until the large amounts of cheering have died down again before continuing. When it finally does, she turns to face the Head Boy and Girl, taking a single step toward them to present each with the award and offer a handshake. Alongside this she adds, “Thank you, both, for your services. I’m glad to know there are people such as you, and am sure you will both do well once you leave these walls.” She offers another, larger smile to the two, before turning back to the student body at large. “It has been a pleasure to be here with you today. With no further ado, I turn you back to your Headmistress.”

With a steady hand, Eliza reaches out to accept the award, shaking the Minister’s hand firmly with the other. She stands even taller, if that were possible, and her smile shines forth into a full-force grin as she closes her hand around her Order of Merlin. But Eliza‘s eyes are shining with more than pride – as she withdraws from the handshake, she hastily reaches up to scrub at her eyes with the heel of her hand, swallowing hard even amid her smiles.

Rising from the Faculty table after Eliza and Martin have accepted the rewards, Melvina applauds loudly, after after a few moments, motions for everyone to rise and applaud as well. And with some satisfaction, she notes that the applause is both loud and very sincere. “Thank you, Minister, and congratulations to the Head Boy and Head Girl! Let us praise our fine student leaders by honoring the with the school song!” Giving a great, wordless, hooting cheer, the Headmistress breaks in to a very loud, very happy round of largely off-key song, in hopes that the room follows her lead in good cheer. “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something, please! Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees! Our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff! For now they’re bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff! So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we’ve forgot! Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!” And only once the Headmistress-invited standing ovation and song has progressed for several minutes, the Headmistress makes motion for everyone to quiet again. Turning to Sylvie, Martin, and Eliza, Melvina grins, warmly. Obviously quite jovile, even if there is a small mark of seriousness in her eyes. “Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster, please remain there for a moment. Thank you, Minister. I know you have pressing a pressing agenda, but if you could see fit to stay, I’m sure my staff would make room for you at our table. The meals are as lovely still as I’m sure you remember.” The offer made, she looks back to the crowd of students, her rich brown eyes twinkling, “Now, moving right along..”

“Indeed, indeed. Well done, Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster. You have both performed an act and bravery and cunning that speaks well of yourselves and this school. It is with a genuine heart that I, the faculty of Hogwarts School, and your fellow students congratulate you. However,” Melvina notes, the mirth leaving her expression at the note of that last word. The Headmistress’ tone becoming gravely serious. “As prefects, and certainly Head Boy and Head Girl, you of all pairs should know that rules are rules, and are not to be broken lightly, even in the wake of such good tidings or favorable results. Thus, I fear I must make some last moment addendums to our house rankings.”

Stepping back to allow the Headmistress the spotlight along with the two students, Sylvie joins in with the last round of clapping as the room stands up. As the clapping.. and, later, song.. fade off and Melvina resumes her speech, Sylvie apparently accepts the invitation to stay. After all, who would refuse the Hogwarts feast? And the beginning of Melvina’s speech finds her at the Faculty table.

Basking in the glow of applause and praise, Eliza stands at the front of the room, pushing back the tears of joy and pride that threaten to spill out of her shining eyes. She tosses her head back, and lifts her chin higher in a show of strength, struggling to keep her smile from wavering. And then the Headmistress’s next announcement comes – and Eliza‘s expressive face melts into a look of sudden apprehension. She exchanges an entirely different kind of look with Martin now, worried and uncertain.

“For leaving the school grounds without express permission or escort of myself or one of the school faculity, I find that I must penalize both the Head Boy and Head Girl by twenty points each.” Knowing what an unpopular announcement that will be, especially after such a jolly congratulations, Melvina similar waits and allows that to sink in. Noting those who boo with the same quiet, grave expression.

(Gryffindor) Joining in cheerfully, Briony sings the school song loudly, and perhaps a bit out of tune, sacrificing her tone for her volume. “Oh!” she comments as both Hufflepuff and Slytherin lose twenty points each. “Maybe we’ll catch up!” she comments, though this is rather wishful thinking, even given the wake of point losses.

(Gryffindor) Andy‘s eyes suddenly widen. “Hey, they just got the Order of Merlin, why do they still have to be penalized?” Andy shakes his head. “Hm, maybe you are right, Briony. But don’t you think they will be awarded even more points for what they really intended to do? They just broke the rules for other good purposes, you know…” Andy is quite uncertain.

(Gryffindor) “Maybe!” Yelps Rawnie excitedly. “I wouldn’ta traded points fer some order thingy.” She says sniggering softly. Truth be known Rawnie only recently came to understand the points system. “But that erm… Ravenclaw house should lose some too… erm for reasons I don’t care ter discuss…” Meaning ‘I just want us to win.’

Eliza lifts her chin higher still – not in defiance, but in acceptance. She stands just as straight and tall as ever, even with the burden of losing her House points as one of her last acts as a Hufflepuff – but Eliza still can’t quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her housemates, or Martin.

Once Melvina has let that reality sink in, that Ravenclaw’s lead had become absolute, the Headmistress continues. Her expression equally as serious and tone just as grave. “However, I would be remiss in following Hogwarts policy if I didn’t then, in turn, reward your fine accomplishments as well.” It’s only then than the tell-tale twinkle in her eyes glimmers as she shifts her gaze toward Martin and Eliza. “With dedication and cunning that exemplifies the core traits of both your houses, Miss Marlowe and Mister Foster, you two alone subdued and helped bring to justice a singularly Dark Wizard, and cleared our dear Professor Sedgewick’s name. For that, I have the great pleasure of awarding you fifty points, each.”

Continuing on, as if not to lose her momentum, Melvina adds in a grand voice, “Further, I award Martin Foster another fifty points efforts that saved the lives of third year Louis Harper and our Professor Rathe while putting himself under great personal risk.” Drawing a deep breath, Melvina grins, quite suddenly, and opens another round of applause, before looking down to Martin and Eliza, nodding that after they have soaked up enough praise, they may return to their tables.

And Eliza‘s grin bursts forth again, spilling over into a laugh of relief and triumph. She reaches over to shake Martin’s hand, and then changes it to an enthusiastic thump on his shoulder. With the momentary anxiety entirely dispelled, Eliza is free to let her joy emerge again, and she strides – no, runs back to the Hufflepuff table to rejoin her housemates for one last time.

“Our Hogwarts family has endured much this term, and by sheer pluck of our students and faculty, we have emerged from the struggle stronger and shining brighter than we ever have. It is on that note, that I also wish to praise Professor Sedgewick and Professor Rathe,” Melvina continues, after the applauses have died down again. “Professor Sedgewick, of course, endured a grueling assault on her character and soul and perserved as best as one could expect. Professor Rathe showed great strength of character and soul in during the trial of Paul Clairwill, and such fortitude and bravery should be rewarded. Thought it would be unfair for me to award house points, or implore upon our dear visiting Minister to grant medals as were just recieved by our esteemed Head Boy and Head Girl, I believe they are each equally deserving of said regards, and we should all be proud of them, and of there connections to us and this school.” Again, leading a round of applause, Melvina then turns to Astra with a grin brimming with genuine pride, and motions to the blue and bronze decorations lining the room. “I believe we have a new House Champion, do we not? If you would do the honors?”

Standing up, there is a pause as the small woman reaches into her cloak to retrieve her wand. Looking rather perplexed as her name was mentioned, Astra tries to cover up her discomfort with a tight smile and a muttered, ‘my pleasure.’ Following that there she moves swiftly with a snapping motion of her wrist and wand, the banners flip from Blue and Bronze to Green and Silver changing to display from Ravenclaw to Slytherin colors. Astra‘s smile faded during the loss of points, but now she bestows a very pleased expression upon the Slytherin table as she tucks the wand away and retakes her seat without a word.

“Congratulatuions, Slytherin house! Now, only one more thing to say, before we enjoy –” With her still withdrawn wand, Melvina negligantly flicks it at the direction of the tables, summoning the End of Year Feast for everyone to enjoy. “– the fine food which has been prepared for us. This has been my first year at Hogwarts School, but it has been a fine one. Thank you all for that. When I arived, this was an imposing castle, something I remembered from my youth. A daunting job. But thanks to you all, staff and students alike, I felt welcomed, and now, I can’t help but see this place as my home. For those of you students who will return next year, remember that magic use over the summer is strictly prohibitted, and that next year I hope we can grow together as much as we have this one. For those of you graduating and going out in to the world, we have only had the oppertunity to touch each other’s lives briefly, but I hope you will remember me and this place fondly, as I will remember you. My first graduating class as the luckiest woman in the world, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Eat well.” And with that, Melvina sits, smiling quietly.

(Gryffindor) “Ooooh, tasty food!” Briony squeals, feeling relatively apathetic about the house cup now. After all, from the start of the term, Gryffindor had been at a disadvantage. “What’re you doin’ ‘fer summer?” she asks those around her, her mouth full of chicken. “My da’ says ‘eeees go’ a project ‘fer us.” Really, Briony. Girls this age should know better than to talk with their mouths full.

(Gryffindor) Has no qualms about talking with a mouth full of food, and she is eating just as ravenously as ever as she answers. “Im gunner try an spend ano’r summer with me mum I think, She said she’s gots me a surprise an Im je diein ter know wot.” Rawnie washes her food down quickly with some pumkin juice. “I’m gunner ask if we kin stay at that Hogsmeade place!”

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler only adds a very small amount of food to her plate, and compared to Briony whom she sits next to, her usually slow method of eating appears positively dainty. Still somewhat cross about the pumpkin juice on her skirt, the third-year asks with a somewhat lofted brow, “I imagine I’ll spend the summer with my Grandmother Larsen — she wants to go up to the lake. What sort of project?”

(Gryffindor) “I ‘unno,” Briony answers, surprisingly congenially considering to whom she is speaking. “Dad hasn’t told me yet, he just said we’ve got a project after we get home for summer. He said mum gets to help, too, so maybe it’s something fun and not repapering the house or something.” Briony shudders at the thought of this. “If you come to Hogsmeade, you should owl me! We can go on adventures and such! It’ll be fun! Gabe is probably coming to visit, too. It’s going to be a very exciting summer.” She pauses. “I’m going to be thirteen this July!” Briony looks quite proud at this.

(Gryffindor) “Oh! Blimey, thirteen! I only jes turned twelve a few days ago.” Rawnie says a bit surprised. She seems a little dissapointed being the youngest of the three girls but it still doesn’t curb her appetite. “I’ll do that! I don’t gots many people ter send Figaro too with let’as so ‘ell be happy.”

(Gryffindor) After Andy has shuffled a good amount of food onto his plate he follows the conversation, mainly just listening while eating. “Hm, I’ve got no idea what I’m going to be doing the whole summer with my parents. So you…uhm…won’t be in Hogsmeade or so over the summer, Felicity?” Andy asks with a small voice, quickly looking down to his plate again, trying to let it sound as occasionally as possible.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler seems to consider that, after placing a small forkful of meat pie on her mouth. It’s quite a curious thing, despite being somewhat upset about her skirt, her tone to Briony is more or less cordial as well. There were, it would seem, times that they occasionally put aside (or simply forgot) the fact that they couldn’t stand each other, and got along rather well. “July fourteenth, right?” Felicity murmurs, recalling the date from her calander. “I don’t know that we’re planning to stop in Hogsmeade, though I imagine that Gran probally will have a few more visits with Aunty Sybil, at least until Aunty Sibyl becomes — well, to busy.” Her eyes twinkle, almost a little mischeviously at that, as she glances to Briony. The idea of Briony’s coming little sister excites her, especially since she has no little sisters — just a little brother, who cried all the time. “She doesn’t like me to be around when she sees Auntie Sybil, but I tell her I’m going to play with you, I’m sure she’ll bring me along.” She pauses a little, as Andy speaks, turning her gaze to him as she puts down her fork, and picks up her pumpkin juice — being very careful with it this time. “Some, I’m sure. Will you be?”

(Gryffindor) “Oh, mum should have the baby before my birthday, she said. She told me she’s amazed she lasted this long.” Briony pauses as she thinks of another sibling, though, looking forward some, and then also cringing a bit. Another one to stretch their school supplies and clothes between. Of course, it doesn’t occur to Briony that the little one might not even need to share with them. “Oh, yes, it’s in July,” the girl finally answers, nodding before she puts more food into her mouth. “Iffs gunna be great, too. Gabe iff gunna be there, too. His birfday’s the same.” Briony pauses as she continues to chew. “Are you going to be there for your birthday, too?”

(Gryffindor) Andy quickly gulps down half a potato and almost has to cough it out again, because it still is too hot for being swallowed. Having managed this while blushing to a deep red he replies to Felicity. “Yes, I surely will be there. I’ve nothing planned, you know. So just send me an owl when you know the date and so on.” Eased that there could be a way to meet his friend outside of the school’s boundaries, Andy takes another fork of carrots.

(Gryffindor) “That all depends, I guess,” Felicity murmurs, her voice becoming quiet, and her eyes somewhat subdued at Briony’s question. A thought creeping up on her that she’d rather not consider, a harsh reality. “On Grandmother Larsen.” Those last few words fall from her with a weight that she can’t quite bear, which immediately summons her voice again, with a somewhat forced smile to try to lighten them. “She loves the lake, after all. She might want to stay all summer.” Looking grateful for a switch in direction from her hard thoughts, Felicity smiles warmly to Andy. Her too-cute, shimmery smile. Subtle, cute, and real, unlike her fake-face-everyone-is-looking smiles. “I will. I look forward to it.”

(Gryffindor) Looking from Andy to Felicity and back again, Briony seems to miss entirely the connection between them and the significance of their words. Why the drama about visiting? Shrugging, the girl continues working on cleaning her plate, and it is not long before her plate is, in fact, cleaned. “Should be a great summer,” Briony responds, grinning at Felicity, apparently unaware of the significance, too, of the comment about her grandmother.

(Gryffindor) “Mhn, great,” Felicity murmurs, quietly, in response to Briony’s assessment of the summertime’s potential. Her tone half-genuine, and half-filled with a quiet dread. She’d not expected Briony to cotton on to her verbal slip, and honestly, she was glad. It hurt to much to think about. “Well, I still have some packing to do. I’ve let it go late. And I need to change my skirt. I’ll let you know when I’m going to be in Hogsmeade. See you on the train tomarrow. Excuse me.” And before Andy can make note of it, afraid that he might be more perceptive, she pushes herself up and makes her way from the hall.

(Gryffindor) After a long while, Briony, too, finishes her meal and grins at those around her. “Have a good vacation!” she tells them all. “I’m going to go make sure all my things are together so we can leave sooner!” She giggles as she says this and finishes off her pumpkin juice before standing up from the table quickly and making her way out to her commonroom.

“Ahem!” Melvina chirps hoarsly, clearing her throat after covering her lips with a hastily risen fist. Her nose seems a bit shiney and red, and dark-colored eyes are ever so faintly puffy. “Oh, oh dear.” A late winter cold, to match the terrible that blankets world outside the cozy walls of the castle this mid-January evening. The famed library of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been done up much as it was for the last assembly of the Student Events Committee, with four of the long, plank tables edged up in to a large box shape with chairs scattered about the sides. Off to the side sits another table, laden down with the sorts of treats on might expect to encounter in mid-winter. Steaming hit cauldron cakes, gooey, melty chocolate biscuits, hissing kettles of hot chocolate and spiced tea, and curiously enough, a log of fruit cake so impressively large that if it were real wood it might fuel a common room hearth for several weeks. Sitting at the large, square table in the middle of one length opposite the door, the Headmistress shuffles a handful of parchments in front of her for a few moments, before giving a sneeze so great that she actually knocks the wide-brimmed, tall pointed hat she forever wears off her head.

Saphia Bona comes in quickly, with about fifteen different books with her, flopping down onto a desk and raising her hand immediately upon sitting down. “Headmistress Pritchard? I really really can’t stay very long with all the mid-year assignments we have, because I still have twenty books to read between Charms, Transfiguration and Potions, but I earnestly wish to help out with the ball.” She spreads the books out and looks over them in a tiny panic. “I promise I’ll offer any suggestions I can here!”

Riley Markham strolls in a few steps behind Saphia, conversely to her, completely unladen with any sort of reading material. Or anything at all, for that matter. His pack is missing, his robes are open, revealing his untucked button up and wrinkled slacks, and the leather thong that usually holds back his hair is completely missing. His wild, wine-colored locks tossed this way and that as if he had only just woken up. He passes Saphia a slightly crooked glance, as if to awe at her briefly, but without a word he flops down in to a nearest chair to him and shoves his hands in to his pockets. Already looking bored.

“…Already has an escort, and honestly, she wouldn’t tell me who it is, but it’s just appalling! A second year!” Gertrude strides in, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder and looking around haughtily. Nevermind that she’s only a third year herself — second years are so childish. The Baxtor girl scoffs a bit as she continues. “She must have used a Love potion on the poor sap who asked her, because I can’t think of any other reason he would ask her, and this soon! There are plenty of better options. Don’t you agree? Helen?” Gertrude looks to her sister, who is far from identical, for a response as she takes a seat perhaps a bit farther from Melvina than is really necessary.

“Hello, Professor Prichard,” Noémie greets the woman as she comes in and sits very close to the front, only glancing at the refreshments. No, none for her. After all, she’s far to excited about the event to even think of having sweets and things. Must maintain her figure, of course! Then again, it looks as if Noémie needs very little in the way of help with her figure. “Helen, Saphia, Riley,” she greets her housemates with a jubilant smile as she gets comfortable, crossing her ankles underneath her seat and watching as several others make their way in.

Hesitating in the doorway for a moment before entering, Kelly Pantall is decked out in as much winter gear as it would be possible to imagine on one person – earmuffs, beanie, gloves, mittens, cloaks, the works. Her approach to the table is a slow one, and not solely because of her obscene amount of winter clothing. It seems partially, at least, due to her terrible mood, for her eyes are downcast and her feet drag as she walks. “Hallo, Professor Prichard,” she offers in a low, sullen tone, taking a seat on the far side of the table, conveniently rather close to a pot of hot chocolate.

A scroll of parchment, a long quill, and a decanter of ink cradled to her chest by crossed arms, Felicity Wexler makes her way quietly in to the Library. Her cheeks already a bit rose-tinted, still having not forgotten her very first encounter with the Headmistress that had lost her house so many points at the beginning of the year. She picks out a chair, a respectable distance from the headmistress, but not so far as to seem room, then sets down her things and moves to check out the refreshments.

“Oh, I know,” Helen Baxtor opines in response, folding her arms across her chest and sniffing arrogantly. “That really is appalling. She ought to be ashamed of herself. Especially if she used a love potion. And you’re right – what alternative could there have been? No one would have asked her otherwise.” Hesitating a moment as she reaches the table, she eventually sits herself alongside her sister, combing her red hair through her fingers with a vague, disinterested expression. Then, looking up at Noémie, slightly startled, she offers a distracted, “Oh.. hello.” Another pause, and she turns back to her sister with small smirk. “How many of them do you think are just here so they can guarantee an invitation?”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” Melvina says, after reaching down to collect her hat, brushing it off, and settling it back on to her silvered crown with a slightly disgruntled expression. She does find it in herself to smile past the cold, however, as she lifts a hand to wave Saphia off. A gesture that is both dismissive and friendly. “Go on, go on. I’m sure you’ll be able to help and attend the ball, and if nothing else, I’ve not doubts Mister Markham will invite you, if only so that you don’t miss out. Now off with you. Academics is more important.” And that said, she shifts her attention elsewhere. Not watching Saphia leave, nor her grandson’s reaction to her pairing him off for the ball. Instead, looking toward whom just greeted her. “Ah, Noémie, dear. Glad to see you here, dear. Glad indeed.” She gives the Ravenclaw quidditch captain a warm smile, before looking toward the room curiously. “And Miss Pantall, how are you dear?” She greets in return, dabbing at her nose with an emerald hankerchief. Lenore and Helen are given polite nods, as is Felicity. Riley, despite having been mentioned before, is curiously ignored. “So, I suppose we should be getting to this. Those of you who were here last, I assume you remember the procedure. Sit where you like, as it seems you have, and help yourself to refreshments. The policy of this committee is, quite simply, if you have an idea, offer it. If it’s seconded and thirded, we vote as a whole and if it passes, we use that idea. As you all know, the topic of coversation this day is to be the upcoming Governor’s Ball. Any questions before we begin?” A faintly amused grin touches the corners of her lips, quite despite her cold. She was already looking forward to this.

Seeming a little perplexed by the Headmistress’ greeting, Kelly looks up, shrugging her shoulders lightly, then busying herself with the hot chocolate. “Oh.. I’m alright. Thank you?” This last is offered as a question, as if she’s not quite sure that she should, in fact, be thanking Melvina for the query. But, oh look, biscuits. And hot chocolate.

Riley Markham had just started leaning back in his chair, propping it up on the two hind legs, when Melvina arbitrarily declares Saphia as his assumed date. A statement which causes him to jump so profoundly in his seat that only the fact that his foot got caught between two legs of the arranged tables keeps him from toppling backward completely. For a moment, after he has regained his balance and thrust his himself forward so that the front two chair legs collide with the floor in a resound thunk, Riley looks quite like he might scream something obscene at the Headmistress. But whatever better judgement he holds obviously grabs hold of him, as he folds his arms across his chest and sinks so low in to the chair that he might as well be laying down. His eyes narrowed in slits, that were the Unforgivable Curses, would have killed Melvina there on the spot.

Felicity Wexler pours herself some hot cocoa and cuts off a small piece of fruit log and returns to the table as soon as she hears Melvina start to speak, settling in to her chair and unstoppering her ink. She looks toward the Headmistress briefly, then around the room briefly. She had no questions, herself, but she was here last time.

“Most of them, I bet,” Gertrude whispers to her sister in a conspiratory fashion before turning her attention to Melvina. For her part, she, too, was only here to ensure an invitation, though she would never admit it, in all her life. “Well, perhaps not that prefect over there, nor that one there. She looks to be at least a fourth year, I think.” No, even the headmistress speaking cannot halt Gertrude‘s speeches to her sister.

For Noémie‘s part, she just leans back comfortably and looks at the headmistress expectantly. She ignores the whispering nearby of the Baxtor twins, as well as the giggling of some second year girls behind her. After all, she isn’t here to police library etiquete, instead to help plan for the ball coming up. A question does occur to her, however, and as is her habit, Noémie raises her hand into the air.

Peering over at the indicated girl, Helen waves her hand in the universal gesture of ‘so-so’, not committing to an opinion about the girl’s year either way. For her part, she is indeed here to secure an invitation, but is she going to admit it? Never. “Pft, of course. Children.” And, indeed, in this count she is including both those in younger years and those in the same year group as herself. Obviously, anyone other than the Baxtor twins who is not evidently older than the girls by a considerable amount is more childish, until further notice. Relaxing back in her chair, Helen seems to be paying little attention to anything other than the gossip, still combing out her hair with her fingers idly as her eyes scope the library for something else to comment on.

Setting down her green-dyed hankerchief near her empty scone plate, Melvina pushes herself up from the table with a faint nod. Preening briefly, vaguely smoothing and adjusting her robes as an old woman is want to do, she folds her hands behind her back and slowly begins to make her way about the table. “Fair, then, no questions. Good. Let us begin. When last we met, we discussed and planned the Barefoot Social. Those of you that were here, you did an excellent job. Brilliant, even. It was a smashing success, even beyond my own wildest expectations. And if I do say so, my expectations are quite, quite high.” She grins, giving a faint wink. An expression that looks decidely clownish, with her bright red nose. “Well done, pat on the back to all of you. …Oh, Noémie, dear, sorry, I missed you there,” Melvina says, appologetically, as she turns and sees Noémie’s hand in the air. “How about this? Let’s not stand on tradition of handraising, shall we? Assure equally that we’re all heard. Go ahead, Miss Ribouet. What’s your question.” She as well seems to ignore the whispering of the Baxter twins, though she does pause directly behind their chairs to look toward Noémie.

“It’s an old habit, I’m afraid,” Noémie admits with a chuckle. “Are students allowed to invite adults as their guests to the Ball?” she queries, a small grin playing on her lips as she asks this, as if she knows something the others don’t know. Her hand is now in her lap, fiddling with a ruffle on her long skirt while she still leans comfortably back in her seat.

Slipping back a little further into her seat at the mention of the Barefoot Social being a smashing success – after all, as far as she recalls, the most successful part was the fact that the boy she publically humiliated at the Social is still willing to speak to her – Kelly remains entirely silent, sipping her hot chocolate and nibbling on a biscuit quietly. After a moment, though, she tentatively begins to raise her hand – then, noting Melvina’s discouragement of this activity, adds her own question after Noémie’s, not waiting for Melvina to answer the first query put forward. “And, and, since students on the Events Committee are allowed to attend, even if they’re not fourth year or up, are we allowed to invite other younger year students as dates?” As her cheeks flush pink, she offers a quick addendum of, “I mean, not for me. Just for – you know, future reference.” Her words come a bit too quick, a bit too hurried, and eventually she just fills her mouth with biscuit to avoid the matter entirely, slipping a little further below the table. Nice one.

Riley Markham sits quietly, his gaze shifting toward Noémie with her question. A brow quirking slightly. His annoyance with his grandmother vaporating slightly as a somewhat new conundrum has manuvered in to the picture. He sits up a little, but his expression remains dark and his arms remain folded staunchly over his chest.

“Imagine, asking an adult to the ball!” Gertrude scoffs, looking slightly shocked in Noémie’s direction. “Did you ever?” Ah, a phrase so often used by her mother, for which the girl may or may not even know the correct use. “It must be her father, or perhaps a brother,” the third year slytherin decides, a snide look on her face. “I’m sure nobody else would have her with hair like that. Hmph.” Snotty, much, Gertrude? It’s an apple and tree scenario in Gertrude‘s own case, though she doesn’t realize and would never acknowledge it.

Felicity Wexler blinks, slightly, as she turns her gaze toward Noémie — that question certainly not what she had expected to hear. Though she couldn’t help but think it made sense. After all, an older student so perfect must be in to older men. It only stood to reason. School boys would be too immature for someone on Noémie’s level. A slightly frown touches her lips, and she glances briefly to notebook, then to Noémie, then to her notebook, before lifting her gaze sharply to Gertrude. Her own wild and wavy hair, bright blonde and tangly to Noémie’s brown and somewhat more controlled, falling about her face in a small bounce. “Imagine anyone asking you. Coming here is the only way you’re going to get to go, huh? Guess that’s why your only now on the club, then, is it?” A flare of fire suddenly in her voice. The hair comment having stuck a bit close to home, perhaps.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder as she hears these two questions, Helen sniffs arrogantly and shrugs her shoulders vaguely. “Imagine asking an adult.” She scoffs, raising an eyebrow at Noémie – but then, her gaze sweeps back to Kelly, and she shakes her head at the other girl. “You’re always talking about your fourth year. Wouldn’t you go with him?” Her tone is scathing, if nothing else, and without even waiting for an answer, she rolls her eyes and leans back again, turning her eyes towards the ceiling with a disapproving ‘tuh!’ sound.

“Who asked you?” Gertrude snaps at the third year Gryffindor nearby, rolling her eyes. “We’re here because we want to contribute. For your information, though I don’t know why I’m telling you, we’ve as good as got escorts.” She smirks to Helen before giving another glaring glance back Felicity’s direction and turning her eyes forward. “Honestly, some people,” Gertrude sighs to her sister, shaking her brown ringlets with a dramatic look on her face.

Melvina Prichard lofts a brow, more or less at the room on whole. Tensions seemed to be rather high today, what with her Riley’s glaring, Gertrude Baxter’s tongue, and Miss Wexler’s readiness to spar. Yes, best to head this off quickly. Placing on hand on the back of each Helen and Gertrude’s chair, as if to remind them each that the Headmistress of the school were standing directly behind them, before looking afixing Felicity with a look that quite clearly says she’d best not stoke the fire anymore. “Thank you, Miss Baxter, Miss Wexler. I think that will do. Noémie,” she says, finally looking to the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain. “Yes, dear, you may. Miss Pantall,” she shifts her gaze toward Kelly then, in turn, and gives her a simple nod. “Yes, you may as well. Anyone on the events committee will be issued an invitation to the Governor’s Ball for themselves and a guest as special guests of the Headmistress of Hogwarts School. That guest is entirel y up to the choosing of the individual with the invitation, naturally. Adult or student. Now,” obviously deciding it better to move on rather than allowing the fighting to continue, she plows on through any further questions. “Planning. As I was saying, the Barefoot Social was a ravishing success, largely due to your efforts. The Governor’s Ball is going to be a lot more complicated. We’ll have not only the Hogwarts population, but adult wizards of every creed and stripe paying visit to our magical home. Indeed, it could very simply decend in to chaos without a fair bit of prior planning. And for that, I’m counting on all of you to help me.” She pauses, then pats the Baxter chairs, and begins to move around the table again. “Food will be provided by catereers, from various wizarding eateries scattered about the English Isle. But we still have the choice of items to request. We still have to pick the colors and decorations with which to shroud the hall, we still have a great many choices. And since they all blend together, I though, perhaps, we should start by looking at themes. This will be our first big milestone planning this part. We must decide on a theme.”

Felicity Wexler actually had begun to rise from her chair, and had been about to slap her palms down on to table in reaction to Gertrude’s response — She and Briony had been on relatively good behavior for a while, and the itch to fight and been spurred in her. A word starts to escape her, one that might have gotter her in to trouble all on it’s own, but Professor Prichard’s look quells her almost instantly. She dares not lose another twenty five points. A flush of crimson sweeps up on to her cheeks so quickly that one might expect steam to wistle from her ears, and she firmly ahears her gaze to her notebook to try and hide her face between the walls of her bushy mane that fall about her. “…think it’s a fine idea… asking an adult… shows maturity…” She mumbles, but says nothing more on the subject, concentrating on writing down everything Melvina says.

“Of course I’ll go with ‘my fourth year’.” Kelly snipes in response, glaring at the Baxtor twins across the table. Whatever her feelings happen to be on the issue, she does seem somewhat annoyed about the reference to Rafe – assuming it is Rafe to which the other girl refers – as ‘her fourth year’. “I was just asking for future reference.” Because that is the kind of thing you need to know for future reference, of course. Taking another biscuit and stuffing it into her mouth with unnecessary viciousness, she lowers her gaze to the table and falls into silence, only offering a small nod to Melvina in response.

“Perhaps there ought to be someone to canvas for people to cater, unless they have already been arranged,” Noémie suggests, tucking one leg under neath her before pulling the other up next to her on the seat. “Or maybe a committee. That way we’re sure to have enough food and things.” Noémie smiles, ignoring very blatantly the conversation of the twins nearby, especially as the Headmistress seems to have the situation under control.

Riley Markham had demonstrated a modicum of interest when the quasi-fight had begun, enough so that his gaze after moved away briefly from Noémie to Felicity and Gertrude with a slightly arched brow. Any attention to the others is short-lived as Melvina’s answer not only allows Noémie the approval to invite an adult, but full carblanche to invite whoever she darn well pleases. A funny, contorted expression dances over his face, not unlike he were constipated, and he finally turns his gaze ceilingward with a dull expression. “What sort of themes?” He says, in a bored tone. Melvina’s ignoring him obviously was being paid in return. “Like, “Enchantment Under The Sea” or a masquerade or somethinge cheesy like that?”

“Very sage, Miss Ribouet,” Melvina nods, approvingly. “I already have taken care of a large amount of securing the foodstuffs for the evening. I have over seventeen differant Wizarding eateries and groceries pulled on board already. I’m only missing deserts and refreshments this far, though I had considered simply contacting Honeydukes down in Hogsmeade. It seems the logical choice, though I had hoped to offer the students and vistors something a bit more exotic. Students are able to visit Honeydukes every Hogsmeade weekend, after all, and while I love them — especially their double-layer sparkling truffles–” said with no small amount of hinting “–it would be good for a taste of variety. And yes, Mister Markham, exactly that. A theme will help shape everything together, and allow us to set the finer details as we go.” Kelly’s barb is ignored for the moment, but her nod is offered a faint smile. Push on and leave no time for arguements. “Now, ideas for themes, anyone?”

A thoughtful moment seems to pass through Kelly‘s venomous annoyance as she thinks over different ideas for themes before she finally offers one forth, though her tone is uncertain and tentative at best. “Er… maybe, ‘All That Glitters’? Or, or, ‘Classics’?” These ideas seem to be offered merely for the sake of offering ideas, for she seems not at all attached to either of them, and she shrugs her shoulders vaguely and reaches for another biscuit. She’s not just here for the food, of course not.

“My aunt could do it,” Felicity says, quietly, to her parchment. It taking almost a full moment for her to realize that the slightly squeaky, embaressed voice that just floated out in to the air was her own. Blinking, twice, she looks up slowly and swallows a breath. Why did things always fall apart for her like this. “Cousin, actually. Not my aunt. But I call her aunt, because everyone else my age does, but–” With a small wince and a shake of her head, as if to clear the cobwebs of embaressment and the lingering anger from before, Felicity presses on. “My aunt could do it. Not the theme, I mean, but the deserts and refreshments. She owns a sweets shop in Diagon Alley, and specializes in exotic sweets foreign and domestic. I’m sure you could ask Aunt Sibyl–Madam Wexler to talk her in to it. She’s really quite good. I think I still have some of the chocolates she sent me for Yule, you could try them.” Confidence sweeps in to her again by the end of the her spiral of words, and by the time she’s finished, her cheeks are only slightly rosy.

“Certainly,” Helen replies, her voice dripping with quiet sarcasm, arching her eyebrows curiously at Kelly before she finally shakes her head and distracts herself with something else – in this case, the state of her nails, which largely occupies her mind for a long moment before she leans towards her sister and offers the quiet remark, “Some of the students here need a serious lesson in taste, don’t you think? They’re so… so…” She waves a hand, unable to find an appropriate word, trailing off into a somewhat disgusted silence.

“Oh, I’ve been in there, her sweets are brilliant,” Noémie comments slapping her hands together in a bit of an excited clap. “Perhaps we could have something enchanting. Maybe snowy, icy, with faeries. A bit of a wintertime … hmmm… Wintertime Wonderland?” The prefect suggests, draping her arms around the one leg that has been brought up to her chest. “With everything white and blue, and looking snowy. I imagine we could manage some ice sculptures, and perhaps Professor Helit could bring in some fairies to create a bit of shimmer to the decor?” The artist in Noémie seems to be coming out in this idea as she spouts her idea for the theme.

“So,” Melvina says, sharply, turning on her heel and moving to sit herself on the edge of the table next to Helen’s free side. Her arms folded across her chest and a brow lofted. Her smile is both amused, but somewhat serious. Obviously, she’d cleared the wake of the table already while going on earlier. “You seem to be a young lady of impeciable taste,” the words laced with emphisis. Old as she may be, obviously her hearing is still keen. “A theme, dear. What say you for a theme?” She does, however, allow Helen the reprieve of time, as she shifts her gaze to Felicity, then to Noémie, nodding sagely. “Very good, then. I’ll talk to Madam Wexler and see if she can’t put me in touch with you–relative, dear. Very good, indeed.” She nods, thoughtfully, to Noémie’s theme idea, considering it briefly. The memory that she had only just meant to put Helen on the spot having faded briefly. “Not bad.”

“You said it,” Gertrude whispers to her sister, before the headmistress comes to sit next to her sister. The girl’s eyes widen ever so slightly as she looks up at the professor. “Er–” is all she can manage, before she realizes that it isn’t her who’s being addressed, and Gertrude is grateful for this. Instead of attempting to bail her sister out, she merely sits mutely and looks at her fingernails as if she has suddenly grown new fingers.

Briefly, Helen seems stunned to be put on the spot and entirely perplexed, sitting up a little straighter, uncertain about what to suggest. After a moment of hesitation, though, she offers the smooth suggestion, “Something tasteful, but not limiting. How about just an unthemed Masquerade Ball?” Her tone calm and collected, if a bit uncertain, as if she is – and, indeed, this is probably the case – just making it up as she goes along. To offset this, she smiles as innocently as she can muster, though this does not last long before the urge to roll her eyes at her fellow students overcomes her and she flops back into her lazy position, staring back up at the thoroughly unexciting ceiling.

Riley Markham gazes off in to space for several moments, thoughtlessly, before lifting his head slowly and shifting his attention toward Noémie. “Wintertime Wonderland, or a masque. If we’re supposed to be socializing and building ties with the adult world, wouldn’t a masque be a little counterproductive? You’re not supposed to let anyone know who you are at a masque, right? Doesn’t make sense. The winter things sound a bit of a lark, though. On season, at any rate.”

Felicity Wexler nods, as well, slowly. “I don’t know that a masque makes sense, either. Wintertime Wonderland sounds simple enough, especially right after Yule. We could get discounted decorations, I’ll bet..” She muses, thoughtly, lifting her quill to her lips and nibbling on it. “All That Glitters wasn’t bad, either.”

“Maybe it could be done up like a garden. Professor Walsh would love it, I’d wager,” Gertrude contributes, not really looking at anyone else particularly. “Do up everything in green and flowers, get ready for spring and all that?” Gertrude‘s response is nearly the opposite of Noémie’s, though it is in the same sort of theme, and yet the girl seems rather proud that she’s thought of it. “Everyone could wear flowers to it.”

Riley Markham nods, thoughtfully, after a moment, shifting his gaze toward Gertrude almost as if impressed. “Not bad. We could do it up in one of the greenhouses, maybe? enchant it like that tend, so it’s bigger inside, to fit all the people? Or even still in the great hall, just have Walsh do up everything in there, so it’s still warm?” He shrugs, slightly. Almost in spite of himself, his curiousity and the willingness to create was pulling him in.

“Four seasons!” Noémie chimes cheerfully, sitting up straighter and putting her feet back onto the floor. “We could have all four seasons represented over the course of the night. At first, it could be spring, and then it could blossom into summer, and then to fall, then to winter, to top off the night. Of course, it would take a lot of charm-work to get it to work right, but imagine the spectacle! ‘The Four Seasons Ball’ or something, don’t you think?” Noémie waves her hands about, showing with her hands what she describes with her voice as she stands and nearly jumps with excitement.

Melvina Prichard nods, thoughtly, having been fairly partial to the notion of “All That Glitters”. Still, she couldn’t help but feel that Noémie’s last idea seemed bright enough. A wonderful comprimise. “Nice idea, my dear, nice indeed. A fair comprimise, nearly all around. Seconded. Thirded, anyone?”

Waving a hand vaguely above her head, having tuned out most of the conversation in favour of various snack foods which she has been steadily plowing through, with the help of plenty of hot chocolate, Kelly nods her agreeance. “Thirded, I suppose,” she volunteers, though her voice is low and sullen yet again.

Melvina Prichard nods, noting that both Riley and Felicity had lifted their hands to indicated thirding as well. That seemed to put the majority in lead. “Vote, then. In favor.” And she lifts her own hand, Riley and Felicity both follow likewise.

Well, at least her idea was sort of included. And at least it meant that she didn’t have to go digging in any yucky dirt to create the decorations. Gertrude apathetically puts her hand up and leans back against the table, stifling a bit of a mock-yawn as she looks to Helen. The slytherin is clearly unimpressed with the idea outwardly, though it was better than her own.

Shrugging her shoulders vaguely, Helen raises her hand idly, still inspecting the nails of her other hand. Why not vote, after all? She does, however, lean across to Gertrude, gesturing vaguely to another female student, and whispers, “Oh, goodness. Do you think that girl has ever heard of a comb? Can we say ‘ew’?”

“Well, that does seem to be the majority then, doesn’t it?” Melvina chirps, happily, after counting hands. “Very good, Miss Ribouet. The theme of the Governor’s Ball will be ‘Four Seasons’. Take ten points, dear.” A deep breath fills Melvina, which ends in a tremendous sneeze that she only barely contain with her hands. Her hat tumbles off once more, this time in front of Helen. “Okay, that’s enough for today, I think. We can meet again after a time, finish up the details. Good work, all. Five points all around.”

“Brilliant,” Noémie smiles happily and claps her hands a bit. “Can’t wait until we get together again,” she tells Melvina and stands up, looking around at everyone with a happy smile, then strides off slowly, making her way out of the library. Where she’s going is anyone’s guess, but she’s whistling happily as she goes, her hands tucked neatly into the pockets of her skirt.

Nodding to the Headmistress, Kelly picks herself up from the table and shuffles out of the library, though admittedly she does slip several chocolate biscuits into her pockets. Waste not, want not, eh? Her uncharacteristic quietness – probably related, in some way, to the seasonal chill to the air and her embarassed question during the meeting – continues, remaining entirely unexplained, though she does mumble to herself on her way out the door, perhaps just loudly enough to be overheard by the others. “‘My fourth year’ – tuh!”

Melvina Prichard waits for everyone to leave, before vanishing the food she’d had made for the meeting and collecting her parchments to leave as well. Only after taking up her hankerchief and wiping off her hands.

“Honestly,” Gertrude scoffs, standing as Melvina bids them to go. The girl turns. “Anyway, we’ve got to get together with Suki and Nellie soon to get to work on that paper some more. After all, we’ll need our first issue out before the ball comes, so we can start a Ball Edition.” The girl strides out of the library, chatting about various things, more gossipy than not.

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.

“You know, Gabe, I don’t think my purple dress robes will be so good to wear after all. Maybe I should ask mum to get the blue ones instead.” Briony pauses in thought, as if she had not asked her mother to procure the purple ones instead of the blue several days prior. “Yes, definitely the blue. Do you think Albert will like the blue better after all? I wish I looked good in yellow. Yellow is so glamorous.” Where the girl gets her ideas, nobody could say, but it is clear that she has a few of them.

Sighing heavily, Gabriel crosses the last ‘t’ of his potions essay before dropping his quill, tiredly, on top of it, causing dots of ink to splatter all over the footer of the parchment. Gabriel, who seems not to notice (or care) looks up from the task, eyes blurry from the hard concentration. “Finally, that’s done,” he says aloud to no one in particular.

Making a face akin to what one would look like after smelling something particularly rancid, Gabriel shakes his head. “What do you mean ‘do I think Albert will like blue’? How am I supposed to know that?” Gabriel would bet his life that Allie won’t even notice what color Briony is wearing. At least, Gabriel would not likely notice. “What’s with you, anyways, Bri? You never worry about clothes and things. You’re reminding me of my sister… Jamie… and that’s never good,” he says with a grin.

“What? I want to look nice for the social. After all, he wants to go with me. It does matter. Do you think he’ll like the blue?” Briony seems deadly serious about this question, while she is also a bit giggly and silly as she thinks of Precious Albert. “I’m nothing like Jamie, don’t you say that. She’s a snob.” Briony huffs a bit and sits back, tucking her legs up onto the cushy chair she’s on. “Anybody asked you yet, Gabe-y?” Bri seems to grin at him — perhaps it is even a smirk — as she asks this question.

Slightly offended by the manner in which she’s asked the question, Gabriel ignores the (albeit, true) comment about his sister, crossing his arms across his chest. “No,” is his only answer for the time being. After a bit of a silence, he adds, “He’ll probably like the blue.” Rolling his eyes slightly, the boy starts biting his lip as he thinks. Likely, no one will ask him to the social. Girls were too shy about things like this (unless you were a girl like Briony, not scared of anyone). “Do you think… anyone will ask me?” he asks, trying very hard to sound unconcerned and aloof.

“I dunno,” Briony answers, looking through a leaflet of moving drawings of dressrobes that she had borrowed from a girl in her Potions class. She seems almost distracted as she glances through the brochure. “I’m sure somebody would want to go to the dance with you,” she answers him, without realizing how that sounds. “I mean, I probably would have asked you if Albert hadn’t said yes.” Briony‘s voice sounds gleeful as she mentions the object of her young heart’s desire. “It’s a pity boys aren’t asking girls for this one, else you could find someone for yourself.” The girl lets out a giggle, putting down the brochure and smiling at her friend shiningly.

Glancing up at Briony as she speaks, Gabriel hopes to find something in her facial expression that indicates she’s joking around with him, but discovers nothing of the sort. The boy hangs his head a little. He’s not going to this social. Briony was his best friend, and even she thought someone would have to be desperate before they asked him? “It’s not like I have the plague or something,” Gabriel retorts defensively. “And… well, it doesn’t matter anyways. There’s no way I could work up the courage to ask anyone to a dance. Except you. As a friend,” he clarifies.

Briony Wexler scoffs a bit. “Well, that’s a bit coward, isn’t it? Expecting the girls to ask you when you wouldn’t ask them?” Briony shakes her head a moment and looks at Gabriel with a sigh. “And of course you haven’t got the plague. I never said such a horrible thing. Anyway, stop being such a stick in the mud. It will be fun. Just talk to people and they’ll ask you, I’m sure. After all, I like you, don’t I.” After a moment’s thought, she likewise adds, “As a friend.”

Shrugging, Gabriel continues to bite his lip before asking, “Any ideas who I should ask? Kelly’s going with… Rafe,” Gabriel appears disgusted at having to speak that name aloud, “And Kalynn’s… well, maybe I could ask her. Who else? Should I make a hit-list in case too many people have dates already?” Gabriel truly does seem clueless in things like this, and looks to Briony with an earnestly distressed expression, seeking her help.

“Gabe, they’re supposed to ask you.” Briony shakes her head at the boy slowly. “I suppose I could find out who already is going with someone, and sugget that they ask you if they’re not already going with someone.” Briony looks to Gabriel, her face rather consumed with thought. “I’m sure someone is meaning to ask you; perhaps they just haven’t yet. Not everyone has dates yet.”

Gabriel Goden nods. “Okay, well as long as there’s still some time.” The boy grins as he smacks his own head with his hand. “Heh, yeah, I almost forgot that the girls were asking us this time around. Alright. Well… I’ll just be patient then. Kate said she was trying to persuade her friends to ask me, too. It’s nice of her, but pretty awkward, don’t you think? And Jamie… she just laughed at me.” Waving the thought off with his hand, though, the boy seems to have come to a decision. “Just relax,” he tells himself under his breath.

Briony Wexler laughs boisterously as the boy tries to assure himself. “Besides, it isn’t the end of the world if you don’t get asked. You can still go on your own.” Briony nods solemnly, as if she wouldn’t be just as concerned were the situation the other way around. “Have you got your dress robes yet?” The girl asks him, taking up her brochure once again and thrusting it in his direction. “There are some boy dress robes in here. I’m sure your mum would get you some if she didn’t already.”

Recoiling a little at the thought of looking at clothes in a brochure (it was basically shopping), Gabriel puts up one hand, defending himself from the sheet of paper. “No,” he says frantically, “my mum already sent away for them once she heard about the social.” Thank goodness. The last thing Gabe needed was to personally buy things like this. Though did she really have to come behind him that day at breakfast with a tape measure? Though cringing at the memory, a smile plays upon his face.

“Alright, then.” Briony nods and glances through the brochure once again. “I wish I could get those. Maybe if I get to go to another one this year, mum will let me get them. I hope…” A quiet sigh emits from the girl as she looks longingly at the picture. “They’re so elegant and modern. I would be the best-dressed one there.” Perhaps not, but a girl can always deam.

Felicity Wexler makes her way down from the dorms with a small yawn, having finally finished her magical art homework; for a class that she took as an elective, she’d certainly had a lot of homework for it. Almost more than from her other classes. It was terribly frustrating, especially considering she could barely draw at all.

“Yeah,” agrees Gabriel, responding vaguely to Briony’s musing about being the best dressed at the dance. Looking up to see who’s just come down, Gabriel waves in Felicity’s direction with a half-hearted, “Hey,” as he goes back to pondering the workings of the social. He could go alone. Stand beside his mother… how pathetic. She’d probably ask him to dance trying to cheer him up. No, if it came to that, Gabriel would much rather be up here doing homework.

Briony Wexler glances up only momentarily at who is descending from the commonroom. As soon as she sees that is Felicity, her eyes flick back to the brochure in her hands as she glances over the various styles and colors of robes. “These are so wonderful…” The jealousy bug appears to have bitten Briony when it comes to clothes, and while she is nowhere near as bad as Jamie, Gabriel’s sister, the girl has the potential to be, whether she realizes it or not.

Growing somewhat tired of the ‘brochure’ bit now, Gabriel sighs as he says, “Come on, Bri, enough gawking at stupid clothes for tonight. D’you want to go solve a mystery or something?” Even though he knows his attempts to pry the girl away from the paper are completely in vain, he still wishes to try. Any tension between the two girls presently is all but lost on the boy.

Felicity Wexler pauses at the base of the stairs, one hand against the wall while the other hangs limp at her side. As Gabriel greets her, her cheeks warm over with a faint flush, but the best she can do is to raise her dangling hand and give a small wave. The brochure catches her attention briefly, considering that between she and Briony, Felicity had traditionally been much, much more concerned about fashion; but for the moment, she had other things on her mind. Crossing the room quietly, she sits down across from them with a quiet expression.

Setting the brochure on her lap at Gabriel’s mention of mysteries, Briony seems to waver as to what she would like to do. “Mysteries are good… do you know of any good ones? We could try to find out why the school changed around. I hear Professor Calwern is behind it.” A pause. “Though I imagine we couldn’t interrogate her. I don’t want to lose anymore points.” Bri pauses again, pensive. “Maybe we’d better not. I really don’t want to lose more points.” The girl sighs and glances over the dressrobes catalogue again.

At least he’s distracted her from that stupid thing for a few seconds. Glancing over to Felicity as she sits down, Gabriel cocks his head as he comments, “You look tired. Have you been doing homework or something?” Oh Gabriel, so smooth with the ladies. Shrugging he grins at Briony. “Yeah, if anything, we have to think of a way to get points back. Maybe… hmm…” The boy appears deep in thought, his face concentrating.

Felicity Wexler sits there quietly for several moments, leaning forward and clasping her hands together somewhat nervously as she glances between Gabriel and Briony. She’d been thinking about this for a while, since she’d ran in to them all in Eva’s shop over the summer.. Now, she had a chance to do something about it, and she was scared almost beyond reason. As Gabriel speaks to her, her cheeks flush over again and she makes some sort of squeaking noise that sounds vaguely like an affirmative response before swallowing a breath and lowering her head. Tired? Her mother had told her looking ‘tired’ was never a good thing! Oh, dear! And she’d think she’d cleaned up well enough before coming downstairs.. Oh dear, oh dear! “Mhn,” she murmurs, finally, in response, turning her eyes toward the brochure once more as if to escape the pit of her own momentary embaressment. “What’s that?”

“It’s a brochure for dress robes. I got it from someone in Potions class. She said I could borrow it and see what I wanted,” Briony answers with surprising congeniality. “I was thinking of what ones I’d ask mum for for the next dance.” Briony nods slowly, her fingers almost dancing across the pictures of the various styles. “It will be fantastic.” The girl smiles a bit at nobody in particular. “I’ll be the best-looking one there, and Albert will look so handsome with me. He’s my date, you know. He’s a fourth year.” The girl looks quite proud at this.

As annoyed as Gabriel feels about Albert and how handsome he is, Gabriel doesn’t say anything to Briony about it. Again donning a nonchalant tone, Gabriel puts his hands behind his head and leans back a little as he looks to Felicity. “I suppose you have a date, too. Probably everyone does by now,” he adds in a quieter voice, despite his very, very recent discussion with Briony about how not everyone has a date yet. Raising one eyebrow, the boy begins his silent musing once more.

Felicity Wexler blinks, a little shaken by that admission, her eyes going a bit wide. The tone didn’t throw her — after all, she’d not asked in a rude voice, and there had been times that she and Briony had shared a space without wanting kill one another. They were the exception, rather than the rule, but they had happened. And it wasn’t even so much the notion of Briony pouring over dress robe catalouge that rocked her, though it was certainly surprising. No, it was the admission that Briony had a date. Briony date to the social. Briony had a date to the social before Felicity did. Briony had a date to the social that wasn’t Gabriel! A hundred differant feelings welling up in her, from embaressement to hope to anger, Felicity practically jumps when Gabriel asks her that all to embaressing question. Swallowing a breath, she folds her hands together, momentarily forgetting that Briony was there at all, before struggling to find her voice. “Ah.. ah, no.. I.. I was hoping, actually.. that..”

Briony‘s attention is piqued as Felicity starts to stumble over words that sound remarkably like a certain question which every girl has on her mind lately. Briony does not look up from her parchment, however, not wanting to appear as if she even cares. After all, Felicity could ask whoever she wanted to the social. Just… not Gabriel.

Dropping his hands from behind his back, an entering classmate is given a mere glance before Gabriel leans forward, heart racing, toward Felicity. “Hoping what?” he urges her on, but catches himself in the motion. The girl was surely going to ask for his help in asking one of his friends. Isn’t that how it always went? Isn’t that how girls did everything, through the grapevine? “Felicity?” he asks, looking her full in the face.

Felicity Wexler clamps her eyes shut, inwardly cursing herself for her nervousness. She was a Gryffindor, damn it! She was supposed to be brave! And she certainly didn’t shy away from any insult or first thrown at her by Briony, so why was this so damned hard?! Lifting her gaze toward Gabriel with a nervous expression, sitting up a bit more; her posture bearing a practiced demureness, but also a surprising natural strength, her ocean blue eyes open and she finds the rest of her voice. She’d not said anything, done anything because of Briony — even with all that they fought, it would have been below the belt, right? But Briony picked someone else.. This is your chance, don’t lose it, ‘city! “I was hoping you would go with me, Gabriel.” Her gaze remains resolutely on the boy, not even focusing on Briony in her periphial.

Grinning, Gabriel‘s first action as ‘a man with a social date’ is to turn and punch Briony playfully in the arm. “See, I told you someone would ask me!” Gabriel was not nearly so confident just minutes before, but seems to be a different person, now, after this simple statement from Felicity. Looking back towards the girl, Gabe nods. “Yeah! Yeah, I’d love to go with you, Felicity,” he says, all smiles, leaning over and extending a hand towards her. (Because, everyone knows, when a girl asks you to a social, you shake her hand to seal the deal. Right, Gabriel.)

Glancing from her frind to her cousin, Briony is unsure of how to react to this situation. “Well, that’s good then, Gabriel. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time, the both of you.” The girl looks from one to the other for several minutes, unsure of what this tinge of jealousy is that is pouring through her more quickly than excitement did at the procurement of her own date to the social. “I suppose I’ll just… go have a chat with Albert about something, I think.” Unaware really of what her words are, the girl stands and slowly walks up the stairs to her dormitory, seeming quite distracted and for the first time in the evening, not with her precious brochure.

Felicity Wexler blinks, almost surprised at the answer — not to mention the playful slug Gabriel puts to Briony’s arm. “Wha–I, uhm, alright,” she murmurs, squeakishly, lifting her hand and slipping it in to his, giving it a small shake. Her cheeks are almost beetroot red now, and her face comes alight with a mixture of excitement and worry, all together. “I’m glad..” She does, however, pass a small glance to Briony as she departs, a curious expression touching her features. Somewhere between concern and victory.

“Great,” says Gabriel simply as Felicity shakes his hand. Briony, though… somehow, she didn’t seem as happy as he thought she would when someone finally asked him. “No mystery tonight then?” he asks as she’s just about departed, a bit of a falter in his voice before he remembers that the mystery idea had been nixed already. “Okay, well,” he starts, turning back to Felicity, “thanks. I- I better get upstairs, though. Homework,” he adds with a shrug. Waving, he leaves the room too, heading for the boys’ dorms.

The divination classroom appears to be rather neat and tidy, as classrooms often are at the start of a school year. The room seems to have been aired out from the smoky atmosphere that it previously embodied. Above the entryway into the main classroom a sign is posted that states, “PLEASE HANG UP YOUR BAGS AND WEATHER GEAR. SUPPLIES ONLY IN THE CLASSROOM.” Bonnie is seated at the desk in the classroom, a stack of parchment to her left and a quill in said hand. She stands to stride over to the board on the side of the classroom and posts two lists, one of books, the other of rules. There is space remaining, and one might wonder what the space is exactly for. The woman appears to be quite calm and ready to begin her first year as a Hogwarts Professor.

Entering the Divitnation classroom with a bit of a flourish and a bit of redness to his cheeks Vincent seems to be in a rush to get his bag hung and his supplies ready. “Blimey I thought for sure I’d be late. Who went and changed the castle around like that?” He asks another Slytherin close by. Vincent quickly takes a seat and smiles to Professor Kensington.

The approach of Kelly Pantall is, as usual, determinable from a distance of several metres at least, with the sound of her excessively loud voice and the clunking of her heavy boots echoing through the castle and giving warning of her boisterous approach far before she comes into sight. This is quite a change from her melancholy these last few days, certainly, but the content of her chattering does not give it away at all. “– reading a muggle ‘paper over the summer, right, and it had this really great article about the history of Jack the Ripper and all the theories so now I have it all in one nice succinct report, and it has this picture of a guy skulking in the darkness, but it’s a bit dodgy in my opinion because you can hardly tell he’s skulking because he’s not even moving –”

Rudy Foster manages to crawl through the hole in the floor and slouches the rest of the way in, dutifully hanging his things before taking a seat near Bonnie. The boy is clutching his copies of the Guide to Everything in Divination and Unfogging the Future like they were life preservers. Probably just nervous. “Professor Calwern, I think,” he offers quietly to Vincent as he finally sets down his things.

Puffing with exertion as she reaches the top of the ladder, Katherine Nichols steps into the Divination room, looking around with wide, wondering eyes at her new surroundings. A crisp new bookbag – already overflowing with crumpled parchments and Chocolate Frogs both wrapped and unwrapped – is slung over the plump little Hufflepuff girl’s shoulder. She calls out a cheerful greeting to a few of her housemates as she enters…but shoots a wary glance towards Kelly, and pointedly takes a seat on the opposite side of the room from the Gryffindor girl.

Felicity Wexler steps slowly, quietly in to the classroom at the top of the divination tower; a slightly abashed, fearful look dancing across her tired, puffy features. Her cheeks and eyes were still red from after her last cry after being told off by another group of upperclassmen from her house about the points she had helped lose. After a small cry in the privy, she’d collected herself and hauled on to class; after all, she’d been looking forward to this all summer! Who wouldn’t be? Fortune telling, knowing the future.. It would be brilliant, just like those love readings she’d seen done in the common room last year by the same girls who had just told her off.. It would be brilliant. But she wished she’d had more time to clean up.. Hanging up her bad and cloak, as instructed, she looks for a seat, taking the nearest one to her.

Sit all the way across the room from Kelly? Why ever would one do that? Clementine enters not long after her fellow Hufflepuff in the last phase of braiding her own second pigtail sloppily. She slips in to sit by Kelly once she’s shed her cloak outside of the classroom, crossing her legs and tossing a furtive little glare towards Brandie while finishing with her messy hair.

Melvina Prichard strides in to the room a few moments after the last student has entered and hung his things, moving to unobtrusively a seat at the back of the classroom as though it were an entirely usual, normal, everyday occurance that the Headmistress would show up for third year divination. Smoothing out her emerald green robes and politely removing her wide-brimmed, pointed hat, the Melvina leans back in her chair and crosses one knee over the other in a comfortable sort of way, hands clasped together in her lap. She doesn’t say a word to anyone unless spoken to, though she does offer a few smiles and nods as she shifts her gaze toward one of the windows, humming an amused noise to herself as she watches the a light, but steady rain fall just beyond the glass.

“Alright, alright, settle in everyone,” Bonnie says, returning to the center of the room. If the woman is nervous at all, it doesn’t show. “Welcome to Divination! My name is Professor Bonnie Kensington. As you all know, this is my first year at Hogwarts as a teacher. I hail from Ravenclaw in class –” she stops herself. “Well now, that isn’t important, now is it?” She chuckles for a moment and sets her quill down, and picks her wand up, swish-and-flick, forcing a piece of chalk to write her name onto the Blackboard. “This term, you will be introduced to Divination,” the chalk follows, itemizing things as she speaks, “And all of its facets. We’ll have brief overviews of all the subjects, and then after the winter Holidays we will begin our in-depth study of the reading of tea leaves. Now, this is all posted on the board behind you, so if you are unsure, I encourage you to check on that board for confirmation. You are also welcome to come ot me with questions at any time. Now, if I could have you all introduce yourselves aloud, starting from my right,” she finishes, gesturing to the student at the table to her direct right, smiling around at all the students.

Vincent Molbie stands up and clears his throat. A gentle almost timid voice comes from the Slytherin. “My name is Vincent Molbie, Professor. And its a pleasure to meet you. Im sure this will be my favoright new class.” At this a few of the other students snicker as it sounds like hes sucking up a bit. “Errm thank you…” He says unsure of himself and retakes his seat.

Rudy Foster blinks once at Vincent, then slowly follows suit, standing and staring at his classmates. “Um. Rudy Foster.” Easy enough. He quickly sits and starts fidgeting with a quill.

Standing seems to be the thing to do, so Katherine bounces up to her feet, scattering a Chocolate Frog wrapper on the ground as she does – the frog itself is nowhere to be seen, but a few telltale smudges of chocolate cling to the edges of the girl’s mouth. “I’m Katherine Nichols,” she says, offering a bright, hopeful smile, and slips quickly back into her chair again.

Felicity Wexler blinks as it comes to her, and with a slightly sudden expression–trying to wipe the red from her cheeks with an all-to-obvious inconspicuous brush of her shirt sleeve, she rises and tries to find her most confident voice but failing. Think of something to say! THINK! “I-I’m Felicity Wexler, and.. and..” She swallows, stammers, and blurts out the first thing that hits her lips. “..and I want to learn how to do love readings!” She gives a little, embaressed squeak, opens her eyes wide, and sits down quickly, for once in her life glad that her wildy, golden locks are so curly and bushy, as it gives her something to hide her blush behind behind.

Clementine stands up quickly, calling out in a squeak of a voice, “Clementine Duncan…but everybody jus’ calls me Clem.” She lets out an obnoxious nervous little giggle. In a moment, her tiny peep of a voice is gone and she’s back in her seat, slouching over slightly and throwing an alarmed glance towards Kelly as if to comment on how incredibly stressful and difficult this class is already. Standing… and talking… Ugh.

Kelly Pantall looks up at Clementine as she sits down, smiling to her broadly. “Hello, Clementine!” A pause, and she looks up at Bonnie, leaping to her feet with a broad smile. “I’m Kelly Pantall,” she begins slowly and thoughtfully. “I want to do this class so I can find out all about, um, like, who murderers are and stuff! Like, if I can see the crime occurring and can see who they are, so they can be caught!” Crime fighter! She then sits back down and offers, in much lower tones, akin to a hoarse whisper, to Clementine, “Hey, guess what!” Then, before she can guess, the Gryffindor explains. “I have a date to the barefoot social.”

Melvina Prichard glances around the room with a bit of amusement as it comes to her, but without missing a bit she uncrosses her legs, smoothes her robe, and stands for all the class to see. Grinning softly to one in particular. “My name is Bertha Melvina Prichard, and I think also will be my new favorite class and would like to learn how to do love readings. I enjoy spiced tea.” Her gaze shifts toward Kelly, and she arches a brow toward the girl with a slightly amused look. “Congratulations on your date, dear.” That said, she slips back in to her seat and resumes the same pose she had a moment before. She does pass Professor Kensington an amused expression, though. Clearly, she’s having fun.

“Alright, fantastic,” the teacher exclaims and turns for a moment to wipe the board clean of everything except where the chalk has written each student’s name in a line, though spellings may be botched here and there in the list. “If you would all open your books to the first chapter of The Unabridged Guide, I would be much obliged. And please retrieve that bit of litter, Miss Nichols. And girls, I know the social is exciting, but please save the chatter for after class. Thank you.” The thanks are expressed in such an upbeat tone of voice that one might expect that Bonnie hadn’t just given a direct order to a student. The woman gives a single smile to the Headmistress, but pays no particular attention to the woman. After all, it is the students she is to be teaching.”Now, let us start by talking about Divination. Everyone has got their preconceived ideas of what Divination is and what it strives to achieve. Can someone give me some examples?” Her eyes scan the room for raised hands.

Kelly Pantall turns faintly pink at this sudden attention from the Headmistress, though she doesn’t sink down in her chair or anything of the sort – no, no, she must face these things headon. “Er.. thank you, Headmistress.” She does, however, stop whispering and sit up all the straighter, eyes focused completely on Professor Kensington.

Vincent Molbie hurrys and opens his book the the aformentioned chapter only glanceing at the Headmistress through the corner of his eye. Whispering to a friends next to him Vincent asks “Is she taking a class? How odd is that?” Perking up and raising his hand high in the air Vincent is sure he can give a fair example.

“Yes, ma’am,” Katherine gulps. A quick blush pinkens her plump cheeks, and she hastily bends down to retrieve the candy wrapper, and tucks it away in her pocket. Then down she goes again, tugging ‘The Unabridged Guide’ out of her satchel, and she flips hurriedly through it, bending down the corners of a few pages in her rush. But her hopeful smile remains, and she puts her hand in the air, brightening with the pleasure of knowing an answer to _this_ question, at least.

Barely a moment passes before her exhuberance returns and Kelly waves her left hand in the air, surrounded by a sudden silent aura of ‘ooh, ooh, pick me, pick me!’. Her right hand, however, scrawls a message on a piece of paper, and pushes it over towards Clementine – ‘you’ll never guess who’, followed by a little happy smiley face with big eyebrows. The book is opened in front of her, too. What a good student.

“How about Miss Nichols first, and then we’ll hear from Mister Molbie,” Bonnie states, directing her hands to each of them in turn. “And we can hear from Miss Pantall following them. Be sure to let the others finish first.” A glint is in Professor Kensington’s eye, as if she is playfully winking at the students who raise their hands, directing them in what order to answer.

Somehow ‘please save the chatter for after class’ translated into ‘chatter more quietly’ in Clem’s mind. She smiles to the Headmistress – deciding, for the moment, that the woman is nice. She whispers softly, leaning in close to Kelly, “I know I was with Rafe when he got your note!” Clementine holds down excited giggles, biting down on her bottom lip hard. She follows directions swiftly while she whispers, finding the time to jot down on the paper ‘He was so excited!’. She looks up, worried, when Kelly’s name is mentioned. Oh crap, what are they doing?

Rudy Foster does open the book as bidden, but raising his hand? Not happening. He’ll just… wait to see what happens next.

Felicity Wexler just sits quietly, her hands folded in her lap, red up to the ears.

Eagerly, Katherine wriggles a little farther forward in her seat – almost as far as the edge of her desk, except that the corner of her book pokes her first, bringing her to an abrupt and uncomfortable stop. “Er. Yes, ma’am,” she replies, bringing her hand down again. She glances around the room – but there are no cues to take; she must make the decision herself, and after another moment’s hesitation, Katherine wriggles out of her seat and stands up to answer the question. “It’s, well, it’s telling the future,” she begins, with the same hopeful smile. “With stars, and tea, and cards and things. And…if you know when someone is born, you can figure out where the stars were, and you can tell about their future.” Katherine is starting to falter – there is much more hope than confidence in her smile now – but she still pushes ahead valiantly. “And…if you look at the bottom of a teacup, you can see what’s going to happen. Although not if you use a teabag. But Mum says that doesn’t taste as good anyway. Er.” She hovers for a moment in the aisle, and then plunks back down into her seat, looking uncertainly up at the professor.

Vincent Molbie smiles a little hearing the Hufflepuff’s explanation and waits poligihtly untill she is finished before speaking in his own very quiet voice. “Divination is the ability to predict the past, present and future be deciphering the different patterns all around us. Be it tea dregs in the bottom of a glass or even dice or dominos or even in some places a coin flip. Some tools are more effective than others and some seers do not have to use tools at all and have an ability to sense the future.” Vincent blushes just a bit and looks around before sitting down and saying nothing more.

Melvina Prichard agreed, the students were the most important part, and she was very content to simply sit quietly and watch for the rest of the lesson. To know someone, is to see how someone fulfills their passion; that is the measure to knowing peeking in to another heart and another soul. If it’s true that one’s passion were teaching, her little sit in would tell Melvina more about Professor Kensington than a hundred staff room conversations filled with idle small talk.. And it was an equally valuable chance to learn about her students, as well. To see what motivated them, to understand them. Bonnie’s polite acknowledgment, but heedless regard about Melvina presence spoke very highly over the divination professor, the headmistress thought. Melvina‘s usually sly, amused grin warmed in to something of a small smile of businesslike respect, ready to see and learn about the denizens of her school.

For a moment, Kelly looks slightly annoyed – how can people go around spoiling her fun by being present when it happened? Some people are just so inconsiderate. The note seems to puzzle her, however, to say the least and her eyes widen considerably as she scrawls in big letters, underlined several times, ‘EXCITED???’. Now, that doesn’t tally with her knowledge of the situation – which is limited to say the least, but still. She lowers her hand as she is called on, however, and offers, “And crystal-gazing, Professor, you can see what’s happening. That’s how you can use Divination for crime-fighting, Professor, because if you’re good you can see things happening as they happen, or before they happen, or after they happen…” She trails off a bit at the end, apparently realising she makes no sense, and diverts her attention back to Clementine, adding to the note on the paper, ‘how did you know what the note was about?’. The word ‘you’ is underlined.

Clementine Duncan smiles a little, though she does seem to develop a little more tact as far as their ‘chatter’ goes. She at least tries to pay more attention… She scribbles on the paper, ‘Well… surprised. It was in the middle of the commons – everybody was there! He said I put you up to it or something but it seems like he wanted to go I suppose.’ She also adds, ‘I don’t have a date.’ And ‘I don’t like your sister very much.’ Ehem.

Nodding slowly, Bonnie listens to the ideas that the students present. “Myself, I wouldn’t include dominoes and coin-flipping as intricate parts of Divination. They are much less consistent than the other methods you all have mentioned. I do think you’ve all got it about right, though. Divination is an art, and while all of you might have a passion for the art, I cannot guarantee that you will all have the gift. I will do everything in my power to help you find this gift within you, though. Let’s see, what else do we know about Divination?” The teacher pauses and glances around the room, seeing many very attentive students and one who, perhaps, is not paying full attention. “How about we hear from Miss Duncan next?”

After a moment of peering at this written correspondence, Kelly reaches over and offers a quick written response. ‘Everybody? Oh dear. He should know you didn’t put me up to it. But I guess he must have wanted to go, because he ended up saying yes.’ As Clementine is called on, however, she drops the quill in an effort to resume looking completely, one hundred per cent attentive. Good student. Yay.

Melvina Prichard shifts her gaze toward Clemintine with a slightly raised brows, her look of appreciation for the woman heading the class grows. It was a small thing, note-passing in class. But the world was made up of small things, and the how we handled the small things dictated how we would handle the large ones. Clasping her hands in her lap, and tapping her tangling toe against the air the headmistress watches.

“Ah, finding knut, pick it up, if it’s face up, all the day you’ll have good luck?” Felicity asks, her voice regraining some of it’s vigor, though still fairly soft. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she’d been heard at all. She turns her gaze toward Clementine as the hufflepuff’s singled out, widenning her eyes a little. After the headmistress greeting, she felt a little better; it was easier to laugh at yourself with someone else, though she still didn’t feel entirely comfortable with the woman so close by. Not after what happened in the common room with Kelly, Briony, Rawnie, and she. It was pretty clear what was going on, though. Passing notes with one teacher in a room was somewhat silly, with two.. it seemed kind of, well, dumb.

Vincent Molbie begins absently reading the chapter to himself as his young mind has a tendancey to whander. Though when Felicity speaks up about finding a knut and picking it up for luck he cannot help but have a bit of a laugh and the sillyness of it.

As her housemate is singled out, Katherine‘s smile fades away entirely, leaving only a worried frown. Clem might be sitting next to Kelly, but she _is_ still a Hufflepuff, and Katherine looks across the room towards her housemate with a mixture of concern and encouragement.

Clementine gulps as she’s called on, immediately feeling as though all time has slowed down. It’s no secret how absolutely horrified Professor Kensington has made her. BUSTED. “Um…” She tilts her head, twirling a braid between her fingers, pushing the note under Kelly’s book and breathing out a nervous giggle, “I-I don’t know much about Divination, but I read somewhere about people who can really see… wi’out anythin’. I-I ferget wha’ they’re called but they…” She moves a shaky hand in the direction of her now pale-white face, “Not many people can do it but there are a few in hist’ry that could… but they can… predict… the future… and stuff… without any help.” Her voice moves faster and faster as she goes off into a random rant of absolutely anything she remembers, growing higher and higher in pitch. When she finally does give up, she just cowers in her seat, covering her mouth and averting her eyes. Ugh. Kelly is a bad influence on her. If the Hufflepuff could simply stop her heart from beating… Now… Yes… Now would be a terrific time to figure that out. Not that she’s not dieing anyway.

“Thank you for your contribution, Miss Duncan,” Bonnie responds with a smile. “Good save.” Bonnie raises her eyebrows at the girl and turns to face the blackboard for a moment. “Now, you’re all aware of the most common types of Divination.” She flicks her wand and the chalk poises itself at the chalkboard once again. “We have crystal balls, tea leaves, astrology, and cards, which are easily the most popular of methods.” She pauses. “Well, take this down; you’ll need it later. You’ll find that taking notes is important in this class.” A pointed look goes to Kelly and Clementine. “Notes relating to the subject matter, that is.” She nods a moment and then continues. “Does anyone know the methods that are just as effective, but less popular?”

In response to the professor’s instructions, Katherine springs into action – she grabs her quill and hurriedly starts scribbling in her notebook. Eccentric diagrams accompany her enthusiastic notes – an oval crystal ball, a lopsided teacup, and a sketch of a tarot card spread that starts too far over on the page to fit all the way, so it starts to curve around. But Katherine‘s hand stays down this time – she has reached the end of her knowledge, it seems.

Vincent Molbie begins copying down what Professor Kensington is giving them. His scrawl is quick and quite tidey using up very little of his parchment and ink.

Kelly Pantall takes out a fresh piece of paper, one that is free of notes about the social, and writes some very detailed notes on the matter. *Balls, *Tea, *Stars, *Cards. See, brilliantly detailed notes. Then, her hand flies up in the air again, to answer this next question, though her expression indicates that it is entirely possible that she has absolutely no idea.

Clementine Duncan huffs out a long sigh of relief, smiling a little to herself and pulling out a new bit of paper. She jots down messy little notes about Divination, spelling it miraculously wrong even though the word seems to be just about everywhere she looks. She peaks over at Kelly’s notes, which are better then hers, and steals a few tidbits from them to put in her own.

Bonnie‘s eyebrows raise slightly as Kelly raises her hand, but the woman keeps all other traces of surprise from her face as she glances around the classroom. Nobody else? “Alright, what else is there, Miss Pantall?” Bonnie glances back as the chalk has continued writing, and is in fact not writing susinct notes, but every spoken word. She flicks her wand in its direction and the chalk falls to the floor. Waiting for Kelly’s answer, the woman stoops and picks up the chalk, examining it, then setting it back to the chalkboard, set to copy down the additional forms of Divination.

“Er… it’s a funny word I can’t pronounce. Um. Fren-oh-log-ee?” Kelly hesitates a moment, waving her hands vaguely. “Like, feeling the bumps on someone’s head so you know stuff about them. Like if they have a bumpy head here, they’re creative or something.” This really is more of a personality detector than divination, but you never know. “Oh! And, like, palm reading!” She looks quite proud of herself for knowing and being able to put words around this.

Katherine‘s quill has strayed to the margins, doodling little animals on the backs of her squashed tarot cards. And then something sparks in her mind – and her hand goes up. Her hand doesn’t waver, but the little Hufflepuff girl’s confidence is not complete – her irrepressible smile is, well, repressed, and she chews on her lower lip as she turns some heavy and difficult thought over in her mind.

Clementine Duncan raises her hand as well – obviously hesitant about offering another answer but rather set on at least making it up a little to the Professor. She didn’t even take points off or anything…

“Unfortunately, no Phrenology is not a form of Divination. While Muggles still seem to take it as a legitimate form of fortune telling, they are often entirely mistaken. Muggles are rarely gifted in this way, and even when they are do not know how to harness it properly.” The woman smiles. “However, palmistry is another form of Divination that is also rather popular in certain areas. Anyone else?” The woman glances around the classroom, as if to see if anyone has further input. “Miss Nichols, what have you to say on the subject? Miss Duncan, you can follow her answer.” The chalk at the board seems poised and ready to continue its list. “And before you keep looking, Mister Smits, you won’t find it in the first chapters of the guide.” Bonnie smiles at the boy and returns her attention to Katherine.

Vincent Molbie hurrys to copy down the facts as they come. Who would have guessed that the lumps on your head hold absoloutly no meaning at all? Vincent grins drawing a picture beside his notes of a Muggle franticley rubbing his head while looking at what seems to be a stock portfolio.

“Well…” Katherine begins, wriggling uncomfortably in her chair, “didn’t people – a long time ago, I mean? Didn’t they, well, kill animals?” She swallows hard, as her unhappy frown deepens. “And look at their insides and things? And tell the future from that? But I don’t think they do anymore – and I can’t see how killing animals would _help_ anything, even telling the future!” On the verge of saying more, Katherine suddenly catches herself, and closes her mouth abruptly, covering it with one chubby hand as if to hold back any more outbursts of words.

“Maybe that’s what Jack the Ripper was trying to do?” Kelly offers by way of explanation, though it is a quiet comment, as though it is said more to amuse herself than the rest of the room. She does, however, jot this addition down on her notes, taking not of the fact that ‘not phrenology’ and ‘palms’ and ‘organs’.

Clementine Duncan smiles, giggling and blushing, “Oh…” She sighs, motioning towards Katherine, “I was gonna say tha’ too! Entrails er somethin’ like tha’ it’s called?” She makes a disgusted face, “We’re not going to be doing that are we?” She pauses, staring at the Professor worriedly for a long moment before shaking her head, “Oh! If we were my da’ is a butcher… He could probably give us animal guts for free.” She smiles sweetly, writing some things down on her notes before hearing the professor’s reply. There are some eerily mixed messages in the girl’s reaction to cutting open animals to see the future…

“You’re both right on that one. A point each to Hufflepuff for coming up with such a method and sharing it with the class.” Bonnie turns to see that the chalk is still writing correctly, then turns back to face the class.”Other forms include the reading of bird entrails, as well as fire omens. Bird entrails reading is not a favorite with many, and we will not be spending much time on that. These methods are all ones that we will learn through the course of your years in Divination, be they three or be they five.” Bonnie swishes her wand again at the chalk and it stops writing and falls to the lip on the blackboard. “You’ll all likely enjoy fire omens far more than you wil enjoy bird entrails, but in order to have a well-rounded education of Divination, it is necessary to study.” Bonnie pauses, offering a generous smile to the occupants of the room. “Now, I’ll take questions from whoever has any. One at a time, please.”

Kelly Pantall looks rather obviously annoyed that though she has volunteered two answers to questions, she has not received any house points, so she too starts drawing little pictures. It’s a stick figure woman, with squiggly lines on top of her ‘torso’. What a beautiful artist’s impression of entrails. Then, she nudges Clementine again and writes another note. ‘You know him better than me, right?’

Under most circumstances, Katherine would be beaming, under a professor’s approval and friendly smile. But she looks no happier than she had before – if anything, she looks less comfortable and more apprehensive about the prospect of Divination class. “Do we really have to kill birds?” she blurts, before she can stop herself, and before she can raise her hand. She claps her hand over her mouth, and her round cheeks begin to redden with embarrassment.

Clementine Duncan beams, even going as far as pretending to pay attention for a few more minutes, ignoring Kelly’s note for about an entire second. She jots down a quick reply as if taking notes, ‘No! He just sits there all alone all the time!’ Not that she has room to talk, being the girl who throughout her first and second year had a tendency to run through the commons and up to her bed crying. She looks over to Katherine, frowning a little and adding to the note, ‘I don’t think Katherine is Jack the Ripper in case there were any doubts.’

Vincent Molbie makes a bit of a face at the very thought of using entrails of any sort. He whispers to a friend beside him. “Isn’t that kind of thing more for potions work? Gutting stuff I mean…” With a shiver Vincent adds the new information to his notes.

“No, dear, we won’t be. It’s a liability, and besides that, it’s rather messy and disgusting. We will be doing extensive research on the subject, however, and in order to complete that unit you will be expected to hand in several essays about the topic. That isn’t for several years, however, and you needn’t worry about it just yet, Miss Nichols.” Professor Kensington glances to Vincent as he speaks up. “I also view it as work for another subject of study, Mister Molbie. No one present need worry about having to interpret actual bird entrails while I am Professor of Divination here.” Bonnie looks around the room again. “More questions?”

Relief floods back into Katherine‘s face, and her cheerful smile beams forth again. She lets out a deep sigh, and relaxes back into her seat. “Thank you, Professor.”

‘Doubt it.’ Kelly scrawls in turn, glancing over at Katherine with a confused sort of expression. Then, after a moment, she adds, ‘Really? That’s sort of weird, isn’t it?’ She’s not in much of a position to pass judgement on whether or not people sit alone all the time, especially as she’s currently sitting next to probably the only person she knows who would come and sit next to her voluntarily.

‘I guess. I’m kindof used to it though. It’d be more weird if he came up and started talking to everyone. Do you like him?’ Clementine underlines the world like many many times before she raises her hand, waiting to be call on patiently. She’s actually fairly confident now. She’s already been humiliated. She’s sitting next to Kelly. And she got one point.

Vincent Molbie blushes just slightly as the Professor overheard his question. “Right… sorry.” He says quickly and pretends to read the chapter again not wanting to embaress himself any further than he has allready.

‘No, Clementine.’ Kelly writes in response, looking at the other girl and rolling her eyes pointedly. ‘I asked him to the social to prove exactly how little I like him.’ The word little is also underlined several times, and just to prove her point, she draws another little face on the piece of paper, but this one has narrowed eyebrows and a frown.

“Well, if there are no more questions, then I think we’ve had a good introduction for the class. As homework, I would like you all to read the first two chapters of The Guide as well as the first chapter of Unfogging the Future. Please write me fifteen inches in summary of these three chapters to be turned in next class.” Bonnie sets her wand down on the table. “If you have any questions, you are more than welcome to stay after and ask them. I will stay here for the express purpose of clearing up any confusion. Otherwise, I will see you on Thursday, and please be careful descending the ladder.” A nod and a smile is given to everyone before she adds, “Class dismissed.”

Clementine Duncan jots down her little reply, ‘Oh good. Because I’m pretty sure he just said yes to spite you I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.’ She pouts as she’s not called on, moving back down her raised hand with a sigh and turning to Kelly. “Did you pick out what you’re wearing ye’ an’ all tha’?” She asks this idly while she collects herself, stuffing the notes taken today into her book and thinking about how frizzing her hair is going to be when it dries.

Vincent Molbie smiles and puts his parchments in his book after writing out the homework assignment. “Peice of cake.” He comments to a friend as he walks toward a hanger to retreive his bag. “Up for a game of exploding snap after we finish?” With that the Slytherin decends the ladder to hurry off to his next class before this maze of a castle gets him lost.

Kelly Pantall looks down at the paper with a slightly hurt expression, then back up at Clementine, locking away the sudden hurt and offering a bright smile in response. “Well, I dunno. I don’t actually have any dress robes, but I wrote mother to send me some. I don’t know if she will, though, I’ll probably have to just brush up my normal school robes.” She hesitates for a moment, almost as if she’s on the verge of asking something, a hint of her despondency returning, then shakes her head as if to shake water from her ears, and grabs at the personal notes, tearing them up in her hands. “I don’t want anyone else reading it.” She explains.

Clementine Duncan sighs, looking as Kelly turns away, easily catching the little turn away expression. “But I think he was lieing. I think he loves you and wants to marry you and have lots of babies. Otherwise he wouldn’t have said yes at all.” She half teases, walk-skipping away to climb down the ladder.

If nothing else, Kelly seems to feel that remark deserves a good thump in the head, and forgets all about the notes she was tearing up, shoving the tattered remains in her pocket and hightailing it after Clementine. “Clementine! DON’T say things like that! People will hear you and then everyone will know and that… that would be bad.” I mean, never mind all the people she’ll tell straight-up and the fact that half of Hufflepuff already knows.

Clementine Duncan just offers her same old infectious cackle and continues on.

With that bizarre little comment, Kelly follows Clementine down the ladder, muttering all sorts of mild threats about it.

It takes a while for Katherine to assemble all of her books and parchments and quills and candy wrappers, and toss them into her satchel – most of the other students are gone by the time she finishes. But there are still a few – _not_ Kelly, and by extension, not Clementine – with whom Katherine can dawdle and chat as they wait to descend the ladder, back to the rest of the castle.

Felicity Wexler is the last to gather up her things, having stayed quiet most of the class. She did, however take rather good notes, for personal reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with love readings. Well, maybe some, anyway. Working her way from the class, she passes a glance back to Professor Kensington and Professor Prichard, before exhaling a small sigh an climbing out with the bag and cloak she had hung up before.

Melvina Prichard waits for all the students to depart before slipping from the chair she’d taken, smoothing out her robes, and replacing the wide-brimmed hat she’d respectfully removed earlier back on to her head. After adjusting herself properly, so that she feels properly garbed again, she starts toward Bonnie with a pleased, but decidedly more businesslike expression. More serious, perhaps, that the face she enjoys putting on for students. Both honest aspects of her personality, but each for it’s specific time and place. “Very nice lesson, professor. Thank you for allowing me to sit in on it.”

“The pleasure was mine, Professor Prichard,” Bonnie assures the headmistress, stepping behind her desk to reorganize things. She opens a drawer and files papers into it, taking another stack out. “The lessons will get more interesting in the future, I’m sure. This was merely an introduction, as I’m sure many of these students think rather poorly of Divination as a subject.” The woman’s laugh rings out and she looks up, now organized for her next class. “It went rather well for the first class, I think.” Bonnie smiles up at her ‘boss’ and closes the drawer.

“Indeed,” Melvina concurs, giving a wry sort of grin as she cants her head slightly. “And if I may say, you handled the note situation with Miss Duncan beautifully. I’ve looking very much forward to working with you.” If nothing else (and that was hardly a problem, as she had plenty of positive things to say about Bonnie after one simple course), Melvina was certain that her Professor of Divination was passionate and serious about her work. Naturally, her work history pointed toward that; Bonnie clearly had many years not only mastering her trade, but studying the theory and the practical implications, but she seemed determined to approach the course from the concept of “imperfect, but useful science”. At least compared to the divination master Melvina herself had when she was in school (an old coot who told riddles and three tarot cards at people), Bonnie seemed to have a solid head on her shoulders. Yes, Melvina liked her. Melvina liked her very much. “Is there anything I can do to help you get settled in? Any supplies or requests?”

“You know, I think I’m fairly well settled. I’m so glad I thought to purchase all of these decorations, though. The past professor of Divination seems to have had rather poor taste in decor.” She pauses as she looks about the classroom. “This is much more cozy, in my opinion.” Bonnie, glancing at a pocketwatch she has stowed in her pocket looks the Headmistress in the eye. “You really ought to join us when Professor Fallon and I collaborate during the Astrology unit for Fifth years. That should prove a fascinating class.” The woman steps towards the door slightly. “Fancy some tea?” Bonnie suggests, her arm pointing towards the door, as if she’s suggesting a trip to the staff room.

Melvina Prichard laughs softly, before politely declining the tea. “I’d not made it up here before you redcorated, I’m afraid, but if it was anything like I remember from being a student, than I would say terrible taste was a small understatement. And no, thank you, dear, but I really must decline. To late in the day for me, afraid. If I have a sip now, I’ll not be able to sleep.” Her genuine, thankful smile does show that offer is appreciated it, though. “And if neighter Professor Fallon or yourself mind, I would love to attend.” Her arms clasp behind her in the way they tend to do, and she grins a little. “I really must be going, but I do have to say, thank you again for the lesson. Introduction or not, I believe that I learned more about divination today thay I ever did before I graduated. And the nostalgia was a pleasant gift, as well. Professor.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you at supper then,” the woman tells the Headmistress with a smile. “I hope your other sit-ins go as well as this one appears to have gone. This looks to be a promising year.” Bonnie sighs happily, her own nostalgia seeming to back up on her again. How many hours the woman had spent in this room during her stay at the school… “I shall see you again soon, and go to get myself a cup of tea. You’ll be alright descending the ladder, won’t you?” Bonnie does not look entirely concerned about this, given that Melvina is not exactly decrepit, but asks out of consideration nevertheless.

“My dear woman,” Melvina gasps in clearly mock astonishment. “Whatever are you suggesting?” Her great grin following, though, seems gentle enough. “I’ll be fine, dear. Thank you, though. At dinner then.” And with that, Melvina makes her way from the tower, feeling that it had been a pretty good day.

“At dinner,” Bonnie answers with a laugh and follows the woman as she descends from the tower, for her own part heading to the staff room for a spot of tea that she feels is necessary. First class: Successful. Bonnie goes to the staff room with high hopes for the year ahead.

Marie-Anna Greyton is hiding, indeed, first day of school and she’s already hiding in the shadows of Gryffindor commons, and, if you look close enough, you’ll see that she’s also a pleasent shade of Gryffindor scarlet. She matches teh chair she’s seated in in the shadows.

Kelly Pantall all but skips into the Common room, though exactly what it is that has her in such a good mood is entirely uncertain. After all, she hasn’t had enough time to have done anything exciting yet. Then again, perhaps it is merely being back at school – that’s not entirely impossible, after all. “Miss Marie-Anna! Miss Marie-Anna!” Regardless of whether the prefect wants privacy, she’s not going to adhere to that – her conversation is far too interesting.

Marie-Anna Greyton looks up as she hears Kelly’s voice. “Yes, Kelly?” she questions, doing her best to school her appearance so that she’s not a violent shade of red. “Have you alredy gotten into trouble, on the first day?” not that she actually expects this.

Kelly Pantall shakes her head firmly, her limp curls flying, and puts her hands on her hips – her expression is still cheerful, though, and she doesn’t seem remotely annoyed. “Of course I haven’t gotten into trouble! Why would I get into trouble? I just wanted to talk to you and, and, I heard about you and Mister Prefect Sir.” Even after having screamed it out last term at the Date Auction, she’s not comfortable calling him by his first name.

Marie-Anna Greyton quirks. “What about Martin and I? Huh?” wait for it, wait for it… and the light finally turns on and… indeed… she does turn a rather scarlet hue of red, blushing.

Kelly Pantall claps her hands at this, as though there is no greater joy than seeing the prefect blush and, without invitation, perches herself on a seat close to Marie-Anna. “Well, it was pretty hard to miss,” she opines knowingly, nodding slowly. “So, are you two officially sweethearts, now? Or is it just for the sake of the dance? You did hug him.” And, suddenly, hugging is a horrific crime, one which she treats with due suspicion. “I’m thinking about who I will ask to the dance. You know,” now it is her turn to blush faintly, “Rafe DeWitt wrote to me over the summer.”

Marie-Anna Greyton shakes her head. “No, we’re going strictly as friends. I figured that, seeing as Angelina was no longer here, well,” she shrugs her shoulders a little. “And yes, I hugged him, as a friend, in congratulations, of course.”

“Ah, well, in congratulations…” Whatever Kelly is thinking is hidden behind a veil of her trying to look wise, though quite utterly failing. “So, it’s just for the sake of the dance, well. Why are you blushing so much, then?” Because blushing fiercely is suspicious in other people, but there’s nothing wrong with the fact that her own cheeks are still faintly pink.

Marie-Anna Greyton blinks. “Yes, just for the sake of the dance. Truth is is I wouldn’t have anyone else to ask, though I’m sure plenty of others would have asked him, and, I figured if I was going to go, best go with a friend, right, so…” she shrugs. “And I’m not blushing…”

Kelly Pantall seems entirely unconvinced of this fact, peering unflatteringly at Marie-Anna’s face. “You’re either blushing or someone accidentally changed the colour of your face.” This, however, is entirely possible, and she nods slowly. “You should go to the hospital wing and get someone to reverse that. It makes it look like you’re blushing, very ferociously.”

Marie-Anna Greyton blinks. “Neither, Kelly, I swear, I’m not blushing, I’m just…. naturally this shade,” she’s lying through her teeth, it’s not like it’s an unknown fact that Marie has a HUGE crush on the Head Boy.

“No, you’re not.” Kelly replies bluntly, inspecting Marie-Anna carefully. “You’re not usually that colour, you’re a lot paler and less red.” Her own blush has since faded, so at least she’s not looking quite so hypocritical anymore. Especially because of course she would never do something like that which she is accusing Marie-Anna of.

Rawnie Weller comes back up from the girl’s dorms looking a little panicked. “Where is he? Ohhh where is Figaro?” Rawnie runs around the common room looking under couches and cushions…. into bags and boxes. “They said they would bring our pets up to our rooms but I can’t find Figaro!” The little girl squeals.

Marie-Anna Greyton grumbles. “I’ll have you know, I got a tan over the summer,” she states. And, indeed, her appearance has changed since her fifth year. At this point, however, she see’s Rawnie. “They did, if it’s not in your dorm it’s probably gotten into the house.”

Kelly Pantall