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.

(Ravenclaw) Interested in every single student, that enters the hall, Kassandra sits down at the Ravenclaw table, greeting her housemates she has not met in the train and waving here and there to her entering acquaintances.

(Ravenclaw) “Hello everyone!” Bubbling with excitement, Kara Raine dances in and takes a seat at her house table, calling out greetings to various friends. She sits down amid a group of second years, immersing herself in tales of trips taken on holidays and the differences between being a first and second year.

(Ravenclaw) With a remarkably sour look on his face, Riley flops down across from Noémie and next to Saphia, immediately pouring himself a pumpkin juice with enough force that cracks his goblet. His waist-length hair clings to his face and cloak, and his wrinkled robes drip with almost casual disdain. Naturally, drying himself would be a simple feat, but he seems to cling to the cold water, almost as if making a point to the Headmistress sitting at the faculty table, who is waggling her fingers at Riley with an amused grin.

(Ravenclaw) Rhian Brecon took care of how wet she was as soon as she entered the school, really quickly. She sits down with the other Ravenclaws and smiles. This is it… her last year here… Last sorting she’ll get to see, among the last feasts she’ll go to, and the start of the last nine months to hang out with her fellow Ravenclaws… Unfortunately, two of her best friends are no longer here, graduated at the start of the summer, among them, her boyfriend. This is going to be a long year.

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.

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.

(Ravenclaw) Kara Raine waves as Dolly joins the table, turning back quickly to listen to the sorting hat. She cheers loudly as the song finishes, quieting quickly as she waits for the sorting, trying to watch for the first year who shared a train compartment with her earlier.

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.

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden gives out a heavily-accented cheer as not one but two Ravenclaws are Sorted early on. “Good job!” calls the redhead down the table at Rhyne and the other new student, just as her stomach gives a bit of a gurgle. Ahem. “Hush,” she tells it, blushing a bit. At least she’s not still throwing her underpants about and accusing people of being transgendered.

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.

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.

(Ravenclaw) “Oh, bloody effin’ ‘ell,” Riley hisses, allowing his head to collide with the table uncerimoniously. “She did it again — that’s what the hell she’s been smirkin’ about all these weeks. Another damned Barefoot Social. Kill me now.”

(Ravenclaw) “Ah, food,” Noémie comments, grinning to the new folks with a bit of a stretch. She grins to a certain other sixth year at her side and then winks, perhaps a bit more playfully than would be her norm otherwise. “Looks like a good little crowd, all of you,” she comments to the new firsties briefly before putting more food into her mouth. It is Riley’s luck that she has done this, too, for she does gift him with a rather stern look while she clears her throat. “Riley, you fuddent say fings ‘ike vat.” Ah, ever the graceful, polite young lady.

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra peers over to Riley. “Be careful, before I ask you out.” she grins and moves nearer to the table to begin loading small portions of various kinds of food onto her plate. She finally sees the variety in front of her and shrugs grinning. “Hm, seems like I can’t decide this year.”

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden is a girl, and last year made a face at dancing with boys. Dangerously, though, she gives a look over the table at the announcement and says to Riley, “It’s not so bad, or are ye afraid ye won’t get asked?” A bit of roast turkey is chewed and swallowed before, “Or are ye afraid ye will?” comes out in her standard arrangement of impossible to understand accents. A giggle is all Noémie affords, as again the boys get eyed before there’s a shrug that seems to say ‘Meh, boys’ and she reapplies herself to the buisness of eating.

(Ravenclaw) Rhian Brecon smiles at Riley. “It wasn’t that bad last year, and it was fun planning it. Just relax Riley, just six more years and you don’t have to deal with her as Headmistress because you will have graduated. Focus on your studies and you’ll totally forget about her.”

(Ravenclaw) “Turf it,” Riley mutters, under his breath. Hopefully soft enough that he isn’t heard, seeing as that he doesn’t genuinely want to irritate Noémie. Still, he meets her stern gaze with one of his own, laced thickly with annoyance that only a summer held hostage with elderly arrogance can inspire. “And you shouldn’t talk with yer mouth full.” Dolly’s trite little questions are answered with a foul expression. “Nice bit o’ double talking there, eh? Right or wrong no matter how I answer.” Rhian’s reassurance is rewarded with the most positive reception — a gruff grunt and nod before he tables his forehead again, not bothering to fill up his plate, which is a white color almost as pasty as his pale skin seems to be at the moment.

(Ravenclaw) “I guess it’ll be nice to have some detention, don’t you think, Riley? I’ll let your grandmother know you’ll be coming Friday night for your first detention of the year.” Noémie doesn’t grin or wink or even blink as she tells him this, her face stony and plain before she turns her face to the boy next to her with a sly look and then beginning to eat. Her elbow darts out into the boy’s side briefly, but she doesn’t say anything further while she continues to work on the mound of food she’s put onto her plate — no small feat for a girl of her build!

(Ravenclaw) Riley Markham lifts his gaze, slowly. His expression — somewhere beteen incredulous and dangerous. “You can’t be serious.” His tone is tenative, however — on the edge of potential laughter he didn’t feel if it proved to be a joke, and torrential rage if it proved not to be. His hands remain at his sides, and his chin brushes against the plate as he stares up at the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and Prefect. “Noémie..”

(Ravenclaw) “Well, you’re the one who said those things. I’m completely serious.” She shrugs at him. “You know how things go, and that was pretty foul language, and in front of the new students, no less.” Noémie shakes her head and shrugs. “You’ll know better next time, won’t you? I’m sure your grandmother won’t mind, anyway. She likes seeing you.” The girl takes another bite of food, looking rather nonplussed about Riley’s apparent near-emotional-explosion that is on the brink of being set off.

(Ravenclaw) It takes almost every ounce of reserve that Riley has not to do something physically rash. Such as taking one of his suddenly balled fists and shattering the plate his chin had just touched a moment before, or drawing his wand. Sitting up, slowly, his teeth grate together as he struggles to keep from saying anything at all — which proves largely to be a losing battle. “Take it. Back. Now.” His left fist, wrinkled with hideous scars as if his whole had had been soaked in acid, actually trembles. “I had a summer with her. A whole. Damn. Summer. Isn’t that enough?” His voice is only just barely contained in hisses. “Here, her flat, doing her chores. The whole summer. One effin’ afternoon I had away from her.. one. Don’t you dare do this to me. If it were you, you’d be muffed too — besides, isn’t all that snogging and whatever else you did last term punishable — don’t you deserve a detention or two for all the disgusting load you did with that git last year.. or whatever it is you did over the summer?” There’s a moment, after the words fall from Riley, that he realizes he has gone to far. Way to far. And it shows in his eyes. The immediate regret for the stupidness his anger summoned. But being a his grandmother’s grandson, his stubborness holds his fast to his words. And with force of will he didn’t know he had, he stands by them.

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden blinks slowly and calmly with the air of someone observing as if completely unaffected. “Riley-sir, do ye hate your grandma? I love both of mine, and one of them is a muggle, so if ye could explain why ye don’t seem to like her–it is because she’s old? Grandmothers are supposed to be old. An’ they’re supposed to have you help around the house, too.” Her tone is very weird and curious, the exact way someone might ask a question and provide a hypothesis in class. She’s apprently not too observant that she might get smacked for her behavior, though.

(Ravenclaw) Peering at Riley, Noémie looks as if she has not taken this quite as calmly as his previous transgression. “Two detentions then, Riley. And don’t you ever talk to me that way again. Family or no, I’m still older than you and a prefect besides. You can be sure I’ll tell Melvina about that, and whatever your summer was like, that’s not my fault, so don’t you dare take it out on me, Riley Everett Markham. That is not my fault.” Standing and tossing her napkin onto the table before her, Noémie gets out from the table. “Now, first years, feel free to follow me, I’ll take you to the commonroom. The girl does not look at Riley again, though her annoyance is etched into her face. “I’ll see you up at the commonroom, Joseph,” she tells her comrade and waits to see if any of the first years come to follow her.

Walking in from the cool London air and onto the train, Saphia waves to Olivia as she finds a carriage. “Good morning, Ms. Baxtor,” she whispers happily as she finds her seat, setting down Mina’s cage on the floor next to her and heaving her many bags (no doubt full of books) onto the roof racks above.

Getting herself settled into her seat, Olivia glances at Saphia with a faint smile. “How was your summer?” she asks the girl with whom she has spent all summer corresponding and trading books. As redundant as this question may be, it seems the most relevant to the Hufflepuff while she gets her own owl situated on the seat next to her, keeping her a small distance from the window, though it is clear that she has claimed this seat. “This is Gaia,” she tells Saphia. “I got her for my birthday. I couldn’t send her because she’s not big enough to carry the books, though.”

Looking inside, a woman far too old to be a student at Hogwarts is joined by a boy far too young to be a student. The two look to be a mother and son. Phoebe smiles looking around in the compartment. “Do you dears mind if Edward and I have a seat in here with you?” She asks with a friendly smile. Behind her on the floor sits several trunks presumably filled with there possessions.

Fern Featherstone steps inside the compartment and looks over the area from beneath the curtain of her dark lashes. She seems rather shy and her cheeks flush with a pinkish hue.

Riley Markham throws open the hatch to the cabin with a dark sounding of hiss — finding, to his great discomfort, that he actually has to duck somewhat under the edge upper lip of the door in order to step inside. Already donned in his wrinkled, half-open Hogwarts robes, as tossed and uncared for as they often seem to be, Riley uncerimoniously steps beside Phoebe Helit almost as if he’d not seen her, tosses his case up in to the racks carelessly, and flops down beside Saphia with his arms crossed over his now surprisingly broad chest. Almost as if in after thought to his momentary anger (which seems to flare as he looks out the window and sees his Gran waving at him from the platform), he looks to Saphia, nods in greeting, then looks to the woman — presumably a professor, since he would guess her to old to be a studen — and mutters a meager, “‘cuse me, eh?”

Saphia Bona smiles as Riley sits down next to her, running her hand over his (good) shoulder and arm as he does so, smiling and replying to Olivia, “Oh, my summer was alright, I suppose. My mother forced me out into the sun now and then, which I suppose was proper, but there was ever so much reading to do!” She remarks, looking distinctly crestfallen about such things. As the professor enters, Saphia smiles shyly and whispers, “We’d be honored to have you, Professor.”

Dolly Faeden is a nice shade of brown that clashes horribly with her red hair and tells of a lot of outdoors time in the summer. Nevermind that she lives in a forest. With her accent thicker than ever from being around similarly-worded people for three months, Dee asks, “Is it alrigh’ if I sit here?” No, really, it’s thick like mollasses. With a twisty smile, she sort of stumps in no matter the answer and gives her trunk a push toward one of the chairs. It’s heavy! Or, as she sits in front of it, opens it, and starts to dig something out, she’s just in need of something. She looks up at some noise, still digging through her trunk, and realizes there are people she knows in the compartment after all. “Riley-sir! Saphia!” Her habit of calling the Ravenclaw Quidditchers ‘sir’ seems not to have died, though at least in Riley’s case it’s vaguely appropriate. “Have a good summer, then? Did ye get bigger some how? Not that I didn’t get a little taller myself but aren’t boys supposed to grow more when they’re–oh but you are thirteen, aren’t you? I noticed with some of the muggle boys in the village where me mum’s parents live, that’s really when they start to get taller although nobody’ll explain why except that they do and really it’s the girls who start to grow a lot first but I’m only a year from that so I’ve been researching charms to make robes a bit longer ’cause Da’ won’t be able to pay for new ones in the middle of the year just because I’ve taken to getting taller too fast, you know?” She doesn’t say any of this particularly fast, although her rural Scottish accent muddles it up rather nicely.

Staring a bit mutely at the littler girl blathers on in an accent that Olivia can only partially understand, the Hufflepuff scoots her owl’s cage over a bit farther and makes plenty of room on the bench next to her. After all, she wouldn’t want to take up too much room and keep others out. “I’ve enjoyed most of the books so far. Some of the muggle history books were a little odd, but I liked reading them anyway.” She smiles a bit and looks down at her lap, seeming ponderous. It is but a moment before she reaches down into her bag and pulls out a book. “Here, this is the last one you sent. I got some new books this year to read. Dad agreed to buy me a couple while we were out shopping.” Olivia seems oddly comfortable for one who prefers solitude to strangers.

Fern Featherstone takes a few more tentative steps into the compartment and she carefully sits down upon a leather seat, perching upon its edge and pressing her small feet against the ground. She rests her slender hands against the soft fabric of her wool skirt, even as she lifts the curtain of her wispy dark lashes and looks upon those gathered her with a pensive and sheepish kind of interest.

Smiling down upon Saphia, Phoebe pats her son upon the shoulder “Go take a seat dear,” She instructs him kindly as she takes her luggage and begins stowing it in the overhead. She turns again before taking a seat by her son. “Oh! Im sorry.” She says suddenly remembering. “I’ve forgotten to introduce us, I am Professor Helit and this is my son Edward.” She looks down at the boy who is trying to hid behind her arm. “Say Hi Eddy.” she tells him gently and the boy waves silently. “He’s just a little shy.” Phoebe pats her boy on the head and gets comfterble.

“Oh, thank you, Olivia. I’ve been reading as much as I can, but wi– Wait,” Saphia double-takes, “Professor, I know Professor Helit. I’ve… well, I’ve not had class with him, but I’ve conversed. And I always thought he was distinctly more tall, male, and green booted then you were.”

Riley Markham glances briefly to the hand that Saphia places on his (good) shoulder, before looking toward the door with a hint of mild embaressment. Ultimately, his gaze falls on the young boy with the new Professor — whom he had rather curtly stepped around before. And quite despite his annoyance with the whole thing, he can’t help but offer the little lad a smile. “Makin’ ‘em smaller and smaller all the time, aren’t they?” He mutters, to no one other than himself, before being somewhat distracted by Dolly. A faintly rueful expression touching his lips. “Hey,” he mutters. Being called ‘sir’ made his teeth ache. “God, I wish this bucket of junk would get us there already.”

Dolly Faeden looks sideways at the professor. “But Professor Helit, weren’t you a man last term?” Her eyes are wide, standing up and rather rudely tilting her head and squinching her eyes and finally shaking her head, “No, you were certainly a man. I know, people said Professor Rathe caught you aflame!” She looks at Edward, and says, “Your mother used to a man.” as if this were a fact and not hideously rude of her. At least her accent might obscure some of the nonsese. She flumps back into her seat, now, and sort of peers at Fern, her shoes, and her open trunk. “Oh!” She resumes digging.

“Oh yes.” Phoebe grins and chuckles just a bit before jokingly saying to Saphia “Well Im afraid I’ve been through a lot of changes over the summer you know.” She chuckles softly and doesn’t bother yet to give them a correct statement instead she turns her attention on Riley “Oh, Eddy will not be attending the sorting, He’s my personal assistant.” She says with a smile to her son who smiles back proudly at the title. Both Phoebe and Edward have a chuckle ad Dolly’s statement but neither move to correct her yet.

Olivia watches as the other students ask the man about possibly being the illustrious Professor Helit about whom she has heard so much. It seems clear, though, that if this is the same person, she is now considerably nicer than the one who was there the year previous. Running her fingers over the cage that her owl is sleeping peacefully in, Olivia only nods briefly at Saphia before the girl’s attention is distracted. Turning her own gaze out the window, it seems her mind is beginning to wander, though the thoughts travelling through her head can’t be too poor, given the half smile on her face.

Fern Featherstone studies Phoebe suspiciously from beneath the curtain of her wispy dark lashes, clearly finding it rather strange that she once was a man. Her naturally pale cheeks are still colored with a faint blush as she continues to sit on the leather seat.

Saphia Bona looks confused, before finally whispering, “Wait, are you ANOTHER Professor Helit?” She grins wide, stunned. “How many of there are you? Oh my. What will you be teaching?” She asks, excited. “Do you use many books?”

It’s hard work being a prefect! So Evan would tell you, anyway, after having spent the first part of the train ride patrolling the corridors instead of relaxing in a compartment with his friends. That part of his duty seems to be over now, though, as he seems in no hurry to move on his way, pausing to glance into each compartment he passes. This one wins a bit more attention, and Evan sticks his head in the door, smiling as he spots Olivia, giving a cheerful nod to the others present.

“Oh yes, I was only joking.” Phoebe chuckles softly at the very idea of being Quintus. “Your other Professor Helit is my Uncle actually.” She says this as if wishing that it weren’t true. “I am your new Muggle Studies Professor, and if you have taken my class you should have already bought the books for your year.” She comments to Saphia. She looks around the compartment and spies Evan peaking in and notices his smile to Olivia. A grin plays on her own face but she says nothing of it.

Dolly Faeden is satisfied that Professor Helit has just undergone some changes over the summer and so momentarily pauses in her (apparently aimless) digging through stuff when Saphia has another conclusion. “What? Y’mean there’s ta be two?” She looks at Phoebe again and murmurs, “Well am I sorry! I thought you’d just gone by way of a bad potion, someone slipping poorly made Polyjuice inta your drink or something.” She gives Edward another glance, her cheeks bright red, and then ducks her head back into her trunk, scattering things like a change of robes and a pair of underpants in her haste to both find whatever it is she wants and not look at the others, given she made a wrong conclusion. Unthinkable. Or at least really embarassing.

Turning her head as the compartment opens yet again, Olivia appears to glance around to see whether there is, indeed any spot for another person in the area. “Oh, Evan!” she greets her friend cheerfully, beaming with pride at the badge on his chest. She doesn’t say anything more, but does smile rather cheerfully at him. Could Olivia‘s demeanor be perhaps a little brighter, and even prouder, or is it just the fact that she hasn’t said or done much of anything as yet?

Fern Featherstone continues to sit silently upon the leather seat. She glances toward Evan as he arrive and smiles faintly in his direction. She then looks toward Phoebe, seemingly relieved by something she says. She then smiles shyly, while starting to restlessly toy with the wool of her pleated gray skirt.

Looking to Fern Phoebe smiles and gently asks “Is this your first year dear?” In a kind voice of understanding. Her son leans over as well to smile at Fern and offers her a quiet wave. “It’s a little exciting isn’t it? Not to worry, it’s Eddy’s and my first year at Hogwarts too.” A Professor that never attended Hogwarts? What’s going on?

“Hello, Olivia,” Evan replies warmly. Pulling the door farther, he offers a shallow bow to the.. adult and giving a curious yet friendly look to the child with her, pausing to speak again in an effort not to interrupt conversation. Finally, “Have we got room for one more in here?”

Fern Featherstone looks toward Phoebe and nods in response to her words. A few lank locks brush up against her narrow shoulders. She then glances toward Edward and smiles warmly toward the child. “Yes, its a little exciting. Oh, you never seen the school before?”

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.

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.

(Hufflepuff) Looking somewhat bored, Orion shifts his gaze across the hall — briefly allowing it to linger on the Gryffindor table, and two girls who sit there, and also one boy who piqued his curiousity today, before allowing his eyes to settle on the Slytherin table and the statuesque Tahiri Sol. His expression somewhat coy, much like a cat staring down a mouse.

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce shivers quietly in his chair, hair only damp now, rather than dripping wet. Aside from his cloak, which is now bundled in a sloppy mess under the table, the rest of him seemed to miss the rain. “Maybe it rained so hard, the boats capsized,” he muses darkly, eyes focused on the table where, we can hope, all sorts of warm food and drink will soon appear.

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.

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce sits up a bit more as the first years file in. He even goes so far as to half stand from his chair before spotting one of the straggly-haired blondes. “That’s my sister,” he murmurs to the boy beside him before taking a seat again. At least he’s not staring at the table anymore.

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.

(Hufflepuff) At least Seker isn’t alone in this misery. “Still think it’s not random?” Seker asks, having dropped his false cheeriness as reality has sunk in. His mother would have chimed in by now if this really was a joke. How could this have happened? “I can’t believe this,” Seker mutters, looking down at his lap and sighing. “How could she make it but not me?”

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.

(Hufflepuff) At least Seker isn’t alone in this misery. “Still think it’s not random?” Seker asks, having dropped his false cheeriness as reality has sunk in. His mother would have chimed in by now if this really was a joke. How could this have happened? “I can’t believe this,” Seker mutters, looking down at his lap and sighing. “How could she make it but not me?”

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.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood inexplicably turns about ten shades of red and decides that yes, his hands are fascinating.

(Hufflepuff) Puffing up as his new house might suggest (what kind of name was Hufflepuff anyway?) Seker looks to his housemates, pausing on Alden and Charlie to note, “Did you hear that? My mum’s the Deputy Headmistress! What a title, don’t you think?” Seker is a flurry of emotion– part of him proud for his mother, part of him still wanting to die. Hufflepuff? Seriously.

(Hufflepuff) A glance is gifted to Olivia from the direction of the Slytherin table, and the girl seems to blush rather hard as she looks down at the spread in front of her, ladelling herself a rather full bowl of some hearty looking stew, then pausing to take a sip of her pumpkin juice. “That’s really great,” Olivia tells the boy, smiling, though her cheeks are still a bit pink. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it here,” she assures him, and not another thought is given to whatever uncertainness or disappointment the first years might feel as she begins eating and perhaps glancing a bit long at the Slytherin table.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood immediately makes sure his mouth is full at all times, finally eating like a real boy and getting all the food slopped together on the place and shoved into his mouth at far too quick a rate of exchange. As opposed to his normal behavior, which is to arrange everything neatly and segregated and eat slowly and with a semblance of manners. His cheecks are still a brilliant shade of pink, though Seker gets a bit of a nod and a muffled, “Congrdlatins” which is, thankfully, not accompanied by a spray from his stuffed mouth.

(Hufflepuff) Alden Wexler blinks, almost startled — a lady-ask-bloke social? How.. “Disturbing.” His voice only emits in a sort whisper, which she squelches by shaking his head somewhat. If Professor Walsh appeared down to earth, Headmistress Prichard seemed at least mildly insane. But it were tradition. Exhaling a soft sight, and taking a turkey leg with a serious expression, Alden ponders.

(Hufflepuff) “Yeah, thanks,” Seker says to Olivia before looking to Charlie. “You’re looking a bit warm,” Seker notices. “Do you have a fever or something?” he asks, starting to dig into his piled-up plate. “Yeah, disturbing,” Seker echoes Alden, though not knowing just what the boy thought was disturbing. “How can a hat be so wrong?”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood swallows and protests much too loudly, looking wildly about the table for Rafe, “I’m just fine! My sister went to Gryffindor, that’s all. I was hoping she’d um… be a Hufflepuff. So I could keep an eye on here. If she asks any of you to the thing, tell her you’ve got the pox. And then get the pox. I can’t have you going or making her feel bad.” He can’t have her going because she’ll report to their mother. “Anyway, the hat wasn’t wrong, you just don’t–”and the rest is obscured as he catches a glimpse of something cross the room and stuffs his mouth again.

(Hufflepuff) “Just don’t what?” Seker demands, voracious for any information, any explanation of why he was placed here. “What’s your name? Or, more importantly, what’s your sister’s name?” Seker crosses his arms after taking a drink of juice. “I’ll be sure to inform her that I’d love to go with her, should she want to,” Seker says, though joking. He might ask Morgana, though, depending on when this social was. Morgana was really one of the only girls he knew here so far.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood is forced into coherency again, oh no. “It’s just you don’t know how good a fit you’ll be, obviously.” A swig of–well, whatever liquid substance is in his goblet later, and there’s a, “Honestly? You don’t…” an expression mixed between crestfallen and relieved crosses Charlie‘s face. “I’m Charlie Linwood.” Pause. “You know, Beater for the Hufflepuff team?” Another pause, “Captain, actually.” See? See the shiny pin on his robes? Okay, maybe it’s not that shiny. “And uh… you can’t go with my sister because she’s… allergic to black hair. She’d be sneezing all over you.” He fails to mention her name, howevever. Not that his sister isn’t the spitting image of him (to his woe, not hers), though.

(Hufflepuff) Seker lets this alleged ‘black hair allergy’ slide, but not without a roll of his eyes. “Right, right, Charlie,” Seker says, noting the pin on the young man’s robe. “Well, good luck in Quidditch this year,” Seker says with half-hearted intensity. “I’ll be cheering in the stands,” he says, a little sarcastically as he goes back to his dinner.

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.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely turns curiously to look at the doors with wide eyes. Surely this isn’t normal procedure. He looks around to see if any other students have a clue as to what she’s doing.

(Ravenclaw) The prefect has been until now sitting quietly with Joseph Wexler at her side, looking as if the two of them have been sharing a bit of a secret until the Headmistress has begun speaking. Without another word, Noémie leans out to see who’s joining the lot of them at the feast, biting her lip a bit. Is it someone important? “Who do you think it could be this late in the year?” she asks those close to her and continues leaning out so as to better see the doors at the end of the room.

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.”

(Ravenclaw) Riley Markham lofts a brow, shifting his gaze in the direction of the pointed wand — sitting far enough away from Noémie and Joseph that he didn’t feel the need to glare daggers at them, yet near enough to stay in earshot. “Knowing Gran, God only knows,” he murmurs in response to Noémie’s query, though as Sylvie Winters-Geroff strides in, Riley‘s eyes do appreciably widen.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Hey, that’s the minister isn’t it? But why would she be here?” he looks down at Riley as if he would know. “What did you do this year?” he asks with a grin on his face. “That was a Joke Riley.. I promise.”"

(Ravenclaw) “Well, point taken,” Noémie responds to Riley with a chuckle, grinning at her cousin with a shrug. As the Minister walks in, however, Noémie sits up and uncrosses her legs, trying to look as responsible as one might be able to on a mere glance. She watches with interest as the woman walks up to the front of the room, and the prefect straightens her pointed hat carefully, trying not to stare too gape-mouthed. She’s seen the Minister twice this year now!

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.

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra Verkooyen stretches to be able to observe the opening door and immediately straightens as she catches a first glimpse of the Minister. “Oh, Mrs. Winters-Geroff…” she whispers somewhat to herself and smiles as she had never been able to meet her before.

“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?”

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.

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.”

“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.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely blinks, “That’s the youngest anyone’s ever been given an order I believe. Amazing!”

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra Verkooyen nods at Clavicle, still in disbelief, but delighted of the fact that the Headgirl and Boy already have achieved what others not even can dream about. “Yes, amazing is the right word, I think.” Kassandra smiles.

(Ravenclaw) “I don’t know, I think I’ve heard of them being given to really young people who happened to be in the right place at the right time,” Noémie comments off-hand to those around her before leaning up again to watch the Minister continue on, and see whether the woman will stay around. “My, an Order of Merlin. I don’t know that I’d ever do anything worth getting something like that,” The girl comments to her companion and bites her lip as she continues to watch.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Keep going undefeated in seeking and you’ll get a good pro sport though.” Clavicle comments to Noémie. “You’re a killer on a broom.”"

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.

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra‘s expression fades as the Hufflepuff’s and the Slytherin’s award would automatically mean more points for their houses. “Oh no, we’ll lose our lead in the house points.” she whispers, still admiring, but not really loving the two Headstudents anymore.

“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.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely That’s outrageous.” he frowns. “I mean sure I want us to win, but really, doesn’t that undermine the minister? Your grandmother is one tough woman Riley. Er.. how about YOU come visit ME over holiday. I can train tigers, whip lions, but she scares me.”

(Ravenclaw) Noémie can’t help but look exceptionally pleased as the other houses lose points. “That secures our win,” she comments. “The Quidditch cup and the house cup.” The girl beams at her companion and watches witha bit of a smug expression.

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.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely hmmms and shrugs. “I don’t know, Last year they hit us negative then positive. I think we’d better wait and see.”

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.”

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden briefly looks up, having been tinkering with a clock under the table after the chorus of the school song faded out, “Wha’? Oh, well, smatter with losin’ twenty points when they’ve just got the… firs’ class bits? Right? Not like it’ll change their exams or anythin’ important.” A pause in her chatter as Melvina speaks, “See? No matter, they’ve won, then, so it’s all to rights.” She doesn’t wait for a response but resumes her tinkering, eyebrows coming down in concentration. Who cares about feasts and points when there’s a clock she’s supposed to have fixed to show off to grandfather tomorrow?

(Ravenclaw) “FIFTY?” Noémie respons, gawking open-mouthed. “How completely unfair! They shouldn’t get more points than they lost for that! They broke the rules!” The girl says this rather loudly, and her disappointment is apparent. “{Rotten, no good, awful,}” Noémie mutters in French and concludes with some words that would make a french Sailor blush, looking quite annoyed. “Completely unfair,” is all she can end with in English.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely shrugs a bit. “That’s what Riley got last year, and Saphia if I remember right. It fits right with their policy I think. But it ties us Noémie. so we still got a chance for a tie.”

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.

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra corrects Clavicle. “No, Slytherin is in front of us…” and as another fifty points are awarded to Martin she sinks in a bit “way in front of us…” her voice fades.

(Ravenclaw) “Nobody asked you,” Noémie responds irritably and it is clear that she is rather inconsolable at the moment. The girl says nothing else, muttering the occasional swear in French as she crosses her arms and her posture fails a bit, hunching over and leaning on the table. “No good Slytherin.” The girl looks quite displeased.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Well that certainly killed it then.” he shrugs. “But still Noémie. We beat their quidditch team, and we’ll do so again.” he nods stoically. He looks a touch worried at the captain, “We’ve still the best team.”"

(Ravenclaw) Kara Raine‘s shoulders slump at the latest addition to the points. “Fifty? Each!” Pushing her auburn locks from her face she turns to her fellow first years near by, “That will put Slytherin in the lead…” Sighing deeply, she frowns, her next words quite soft. “Would have been nice to have both cups, ah well.”

(Ravenclaw) Shooting a glare to those who address her directly, Noémie continues to brood at her spot on the table, not looking forward or even applauding, despite the fact that someone’s life has been saved. “Might ‘s well go home now,” she comments and sighs, looking around only once more, mostly to glare at those around her before staring hard at the table in front o fher.

“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?”

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Noémie, we beat their best teams, you did actually, you beat them with your training of our team. You should see this differently. Look at their points?! YOU beat that. You lead our team against theirs and we flattened them. So Noémie.. you can do as much if not more then they can too, because you’ve faced both of them on the field, and beaten them both, you lead us, and you are the best captain Ravenclaw has had in I don’t know how long.” he grins. “So they got these points. Great, Next year we’ll get it, and we know we can cause you’ve beat them once already, we just gotta work harder to get more points is all.” he hmms. “A little luck wouldn’t hurt either.” but he looks at Noémie, “But still, There’s the rub of it, they got lucky and were in some situation, that’s all, next year we’ll get them…but good.”"

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.

(Ravenclaw) “Bugger off!” Noémie says rather loudly. “I know we won the cup.” She glares at him again. “Stop being so… smug,” she tells him and turns away, her arms still crossed as she frowns hard. It is clear she is disappointed and not the least bit resigned to the outcome. “Don’t touch me, Joseph,” the girl snaps as her companion tries to comfort her. “Can’t anyone just let me be unhappy for a little while. Why are you all so happy and smug? We just lost the cup because of that heroic… nonsense!” She hmphs and stares hard at her plate, obviously indignant of anyone who is not as put out as she is.

(Ravenclaw) “Well we prolly beat them all on exams, dinnit we?” pipes up Dolly without looking from her clock, not really paying attention to the proceedings except with her ears. “An’ if you think about it, it’ll be scores on exams that show who’s the best at their subjects and the ‘portant exams show what ye get to do outside of Hogwarts. Unless ye were wantin’ ta play Quid’ for a professional team.” Pause, “Even so ye wouldnae had to win House Cup or faught Dark Wizards or anythin’ ridiculous like that. Just good at flyin’ and passin’ and suchlike.” Tinker, tinker, blather.

“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.

(Ravenclaw) Kara Raine Fiddling with the hem on her robe, Kara glances upward, still quite dejected looking as the Ravenclaw colors are replaced with green and silver. “Quite right Dolly, I am sure that we did. ‘Sides, we still have Noémie, and next year our quidditch team will be better than ever with her leading it. We won the one cup this year, next year will will have both. I’m sure of it.” A smile lifts her face as the food appears, eyes glancing around excitedly, “Now, what to eat first.”

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely frowns. “I wasn’t being smug. i was trying to raise your spirits. I apologize.” he states formally and turns to watch the proceedings. ”

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely looks at Riley. He just shrugs and pushes his plate away, not eating at all. “Why would she think I am being smug when all I am doing is trying to make her feel better?” he shakes his head and just waits to be allowed to go, turning away from Noémie for sure and just staring off to the faculty table.

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden looks up as the speech ends and the food arrives and with an audible, “Oh thank ‘eavens,” she stuffs the clock in her bag, finds a plate of something that looks difficult to chew and passes it toward Clavicle while taking a few rolls from another basket herself. “Nonesense not ta eat this feast, unless yer Da’s a good deal better’n mine at cookin’.” Some more food is taken and passed this way and that, and she sets to stuffing her mouth and muddying her brain rather than dealing with the perplexing emotions of older people.

(Ravenclaw) Riley Markham makes a loud hissing sound, somewhat muffled and mollified by Melvina’s genuine words. “Because she’s pissed, Clavy, ’cause we lost, an’ so am I,” Riley responds, curtly. Not so much at his housemate, but largely at the situation. “Bloody rank, is what it is. Holding the lead all year to lose it now. What say you we give Mister Order of Merlin, Dumb Class a good jinxing after this is done?” The shaggy-headed second year says to Noémie, rather quite meaning it.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle says, “Because no one jinxed you last year when YOU got 50 points did they Markham. So it’s all fine and good for you to break the rules and go off and be a hero, but if someone else does it they deserve a good jinxing eh?” he shakes his head. “Surely you can see there’s a similarity, i would expect you of all people to see that Markham.”"

(Ravenclaw) “{Raising my spirits after we just} lost to stinking Slytherin…” the girl comments, half in French, half in English and sighs, but now tehre is food before her. “Oh, food,” she comments blandly and reaches out to start spooning things onto her plate. The girl’s plate ends up quite full, almost defying that it might all be eaten, but without another comment she begins to eat. “Oh, stuff it, you two,” she tells the boys. “Just eat the food. We’ll just have to work harder next year to get it.” Noémie is clearly in a sour mood as she begins to eat some potatoes rather quickly.

(Ravenclaw) “Honesly! Shut up an’ eat, you lot, ya’r killin’ me appetite,” intones Dolly a bit crossly, though from the heap of food on her plate (and the fact that she’s talking with her mouth partially fully) her appetite is a long way from the grave. She does sit up a little straighter at Noémie saying it, adding, “She’s a Prefect, ye know!” Sassy little firstie today, isn’t she?

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely just shakes his head. He doesn’t fill up his plate or anything. He begins polishing his flute.

(Ravenclaw) Riley Markham simply shrugs, passing off Noémie’s anger and Clavicle’s reasonableness with the singular act. “Haven’t you heard, Clavy? All’s fair in love and war.” He does reach out to help himself to the same bowl of potatoes that Noémie took copious amounts from, and mutters something about a Boogie-Foot Jinx being just the thing.

(Ravenclaw) Clavicle Gravely just shrugs silently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clavicle Gravely ‘s question is not accusatory…but concerned

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clavicle Gravely nods “Shall I escort you back?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, first years, make sure you’ve got brooms. The broom shed is just over there — I’m sure you know that already — so secure a broom then queue up right over here.” N