There was rarely a convenient time for a school wide epidemic and a quarantine, but the ball year was especially bad timing, given that they usually relied on a certain amount of outside entertainment. The good news was that everyone would be going home, something Selina had announced to the students the week before exams. The disease was still something of a problem, and there was not yet a satisfactory cure - things had progressed a little, in that those working on it had found a potion that suppressed the accidental magic bursts, which meant that the symptoms could be tackled earlier on and reduce potential damage and danger. The potion had the undesirable side effect of suppressing all magic, and so had not proven particularly popular with the adult population. However, for school children who weren’t supposed to be using magic in the holidays anyway, it was a reasonable option, and was enough of a solution that they were all going to be free to go. Whether individual parents felt it worth curbing the accidental magic or not was up to them. There was also the risk that a few of the more mischievous students might use it as a license to mess around with magic in the holidays, but happily that was not going to be the school’s problem. In just under twenty four hours, there would be blissful, quiet weeks stretching out in front of all of them where none of it was their problem….
One thing that had been their problem was entertainment for the ball. Usually they had live entertainment, but finding a band all of whom had been through the illness and thus could breach the quarantine had been impossible, and by the time it had been lifted, it was too late to book anyone. Thinking of a way around this problem had led to a rather fun idea to celebrate the house cup winners. Instead of a live band, they had a large enchanted jukebox, ready to play everything from classical waltzes to the latest magical and non-magical chart toppers. Selina was quite pleased with this solution, it seemed rather fun, and the hall seemed no less festive for the lack of musicians - as usual, the house tables had been removed and most of the room was taken up with a large sprung wooden dancefloor. Around the edge of the room were smaller tables where small groups could sit and talk should they prefer not to dance, and against one wall was a large buffet with a variety of refreshments. The staff were stationed around the room, aiming to keep an eye on everyone - the normal ball risks of people spiking the punch or couples trying to sneak off paling in comparison to what a cocktail of jealousy, hormones and accidental magic might bring down upon them. Selina would most likely end up heading up those forces. Mortimer would kick off proceedings, but he tended not to involve himself with the students very much. Case in point that, as the students assembled, she was pulling the prefects and their dates out of the group - and indeed checking they did indeed all have someone to perform the opening number with - before leading them into the hall, whilst Mortimer waited inside to greet the rest of the student body.
The ball was, overall, Mortimer’s least favorite school event. Teenage hormones. Terrible music. Socializing. No scotch. How could one have a party with no scotch? That’s why parties meant for teenagers were barely tolerable because alcohol was the only thing that made socializing tolerable. He’d probably end up sneaking away and letting the rest of the staff chaperone. Which was basically his policy in general, come to think of it.
First though he had to give a speech, for lack of better word. Introduction might have been more accurate. Why one needed to be introduced to a ball, he wasn’t sure as Mortimer felt that even the dimmest Pecari could figure out what they were supposed to do.
He stood and cast the Sonorus Charm on himself. “Welcome to our Midsummer Ball. Our house winners will be announced halfway through the ball. Each member of the winning house will receive a token for the magical jukebox which is providing this evening’s entertainment. Before that though, we will have some more traditional dancing, and to open the evening, our prefects and head students,” With that Mortimer sat down and removed the spell from himself.
Ten minutes. He’d give it ten minutes before he’d sneak away. There was, after all, plenty of scotch waiting for him in his office along with a model of knee splitter-a device built of spiked wooden blocks that would be placed on either side of a person’s knee and screwed together until their knees split. Which was pretty much what going to a school ball felt like to him.
OOC - welcome to the ball. If you have a prefect without a date, Selina would most likely let you off the opening dance, unless there was another dateless prefect she could quickly pair you with. Ask in chatzy if this affects you. Other than than, have fun, and try not to kill anyone. You can set your posts at any point during the first half of the evening, i.e. you can post as if the prefect dance is over, if that’s more interesting for you.
Subthreads:
Hoping I don't turn into a pumpkin... or snag a Prince by Cleo James with Parker Fitzgerald
Making an entrance. by Lily Spencer with Jozua Sparks
Hoping this goes reasonably well (tag Georgia). by Joe Umland with Georgia Kirkly
Hoping for a non-dance (tag Jasmine) by Michael DiCaprio with Jasmine
Free agent right here by Isaac Song
The best kind of ball is the kind you fetch (tag N and S) by Raine Collindale
Masquerading is appropriate at a ball, right? by Danny Fox-Reynolds
Having a little fun (tag Fabian) by Ingrid Wolseithcrafte
Let's give it a whirl. by Tatiana Vorontsova with Dorian Montoir
0DH Skies and Headmaster BrockertThe Ball26DH Skies and Headmaster Brockert15
Hoping I don't turn into a pumpkin... or snag a Prince
by Cleo James
Cleo really wasn’t convinced that she wanted to go to the ball, but she was going anyway, for two reasons. The first was simply that she wasn’t sure she had any choice. She hadn’t ventured to ask, but no one talked about not going, and there was a general air with these school events that they would all come together and demonstrate their school spirit and have mandatory fun. The second reason was more personal, and made the apprehension she felt about it almost worth it; Parker clearly wanted her to go. She could tell herself he had other friends – he was on the Quidditch team, and in that gaming group, and he was a nice, chatty kind of a guy. But she knew that she was his best friend, and that he would choose her company over anyone else’s. And he had been a really good friend this year. He had excitedly told her about the suit he’d purchased for the event, and she had found herself saying ‘I look forward to seeing it,’ and as he obviously wasn’t going to be wearing it casually down to breakfast, she knew that was a sort of tacit agreement that she would see him at the ball. Besides the fact that she felt like she kind of had to go anyway, she hadn’t wanted to let him down.
She hadn’t actually purchased a dress. She had had a little look around the sale, but she had just felt all the styles were too grown up for her, and she wasn’t sure her daddy would like her wearing anything like that. He had always been a fan of simple and practical, and even though she knew he would probably relax that opinion for a party, she found it hard to know where he would draw the line – it had all felt very showy and attention grabbing, and even without her daddy’s dislike of such fanfare, those were also the last things Cleo wanted to be right now. A few of the sellers had also tried to reel her in with compliments – telling her what a pretty girl she was, and how nice she would look in their various wares. She knew it was just sales patter, and that they said that kind of thing to everyone, but she didn’t want to feel like a dressed up little doll. The ideal scenario at the ball would be blending into the background.
She had one nice-ish outfit in her wardrobe, which her daddy had bought in case she needed to look smart for something. It consisted of a black skirt, which came just below her knees, and a puff sleeved blouse in peach. It was much more the level of school picture day smart than going to a ball smart, but Cleo thought she might be able to embellish it a little bit, bring it up to a level that made it a little more special without being too showy. She had transfigured the fabric of the blouse to change its cottony texture into a more silky one and had cast a glitter charm over the skirt to give it a bit more sparkle. She had transfigured a belt she owned into a smart silky black sash with a bow on the front, which she placed around the top of the skirt, and which tied the components together nicely, matching the colour of the skirt but the texture of the blouse. She was fairly sure her spells were good enough to last the evening, although at least the outfit was still wearable if they wore off – she wasn’t going to suddenly be standing in Cascade Hall wearing a garbage bag or, worse still, nothing at all. The whole process did rather put her in mind of Cinderella though, and she briefly considered transfiguring her shoes (a pair of plain black ballet pumps) into glass slippers just as a little joke to herself before she decided that that would be both uncomfortable and dangerous. She tried making them clear plastic instead, but they just looked strange, so she settled for making them silver and glittery. The whole look was a far cry from the swanky, sophisticated number that Winston had dressed her in during Defence Against the Dark Arts, but that was definitely a good thing. She still felt like herself wearing it. And, whilst she was still not entirely sure what that possibly meant as a concept, it definitely felt better to be it than to feel alien and uncomfortable when she looked in the mirror – she had already had quite enough of that for one year.
She had been unsure about what to do with her hair. Normally, her hair was cropped short, ending just under her ears – another of her daddy’s tendencies towards practically, or so she believed, as he didn’t have the time or inclination to do a lot of brushing or learn how to braid and the like (Cleo had never reflected on how many other things he had willingly learnt, in having to play both mother and father, and thus had never noticed that this perhaps was something of an inconsistency in the otherwise devoted parent who seemed ready to do anything for her). However, as they neared the end of term, her hair had grown out quite a bit, almost brushing her shoulders. She had very little idea how to style it, and it wasn’t really long enough to do much with even if she did. However, she had worked two small braids into it, one starting from each temple, joining in a slightly messy knot at the back of her head, whilst the remainder of her hair hung loose. She had collected a few flowers from the garden and inserted these at intervals around the braids. It felt right to have something garden-related in her outfit seeing as she would be hanging out with Parker. She had considered bringing him a flower for his buttonhole, because she thought people sometimes did that with suits, but she wasn’t sure that girls brought boys flowers, and it made it feel a bit too much like a date, when it was just two friends hanging out.
She made her way to the entrance hall, keeping an eye out for Parker. Spotting him, she made her way over.
“You look very nice. It’s a good suit,” she complimented him. She felt a bit uncomfortable doing so, partly because saying that sort of thing to Parker was strange, and also because most people tended to return compliments, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear him say that about her. But it just felt like something they had to get through, to say to each other, because she knew he was excited to wear his suit and it would be unkind not to comment. It was also true, she supposed, she just felt funny drawing attention to how someone looked because it was the last thing she wanted anyone to do to her.
OOC – permission for Cleo and Parker’s pre-ball conversation about the suit established with his author
13Cleo JamesHoping I don't turn into a pumpkin... or snag a Prince389Cleo James05
No princes here, and I don't think any pumpkins
by Parker Fitzgerald
The tie had been a hassle. The spell hadn’t worked the first four times he tried it and one of the times he felt he might strangle himself in the process. He had grown frustrated and threw it across the room sitting down on the bed in a huff. Once he’d taken a few breaths to calm down, he looked around and was thankful that he didn’t have a roommate at the moment. His mess, which had been kept in check at home, had exploded this year in his room, and it took him awhile to find the tie again as he hadn’t seen where it had fallen. This just added to his growing nervousness about the dance. Lots of thoughts went through his mind: Would he look like a fool? Would people talk to him dressed like this? Would anyone dance with him? Would Cleo be there?
The last question was still up in the air. He would understand if she didn’t go, and part of him wished she wouldn’t. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable and he felt that she wouldn’t want to dance with anyone. The other part though wished that she would come. He remembered the fire from the year before, and he remembered how great it had been to talk to her before leaving for the summer. Now though… a dance. With Cleo’s hesitation towards physical contact and hugs, he felt she wouldn’t want to dance, and didn’t know how awkward it might get if he danced with someone else, or how he’d feel if she ended up dancing with someone else and not him.
It didn’t help that Parker wasn’t sure if he wanted to dance or if there were specific dances that he was supposed to do. He’d not gone to the dance lessons that had been held, mainly because they were indoors, but also because he felt super self-conscious about how his body looked while dancing. He always felt that his sister was a good dancer, but JJ had always made fun of Parker when he’d tried to dance with his sister. Now all he could think of was his brother laughing or making snide comments when he thought of dancing.
But the tie had eventually worked, and Parker had styled his hair for the second time in his entire life. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he was again struck by how mature he looked and his apprehension was pushed away a little. The green tie shimmered with hints of blue and purple that tucked into a grey vest. Parker imagined that the tie looked like a dragon’s tail hanging from his neck. Though his white shirt was simple, it seemed to work with a blue jacket and pants that seemed to match his eyes exactly. Parker wasn’t sure what the spell was, but matching his eyes was a really good touch. The suit looked like something he could wear at home and not get in trouble for having something magic around non-magic users. Seeing himself in the mirror made Parker smile. He thought about the photos of his mom and dad from dances and their wedding. Suddenly Parker realized something was missing. Nothing was in his lapel. Looking around Parker saw the bit of the juniper he’d brought with him the first year and put it in the lapel. Perfect. thought Parker.
With that Parker walked out of his room and towards the Hall. He was about halfway there when he remembered that his mom wanted a photo of some kind and he had money to get some. He ran back to his room, grabbed the wallet off the dresser and ran back towards the hall. He got to the entrance hall a bit out of breath, and was pretty sure he was sweating, but hoping he hadn’t made himself look like a mess.
He was standing around looking for any of the people that he knew when Cleo walked up to him. He smiled. Cleo looked like Cleo, nice, but not done up like some doll. And judging by her comment he wasn’t too sweaty or messed up from the run he’d just done.
“Thank you,” Parker responded. “I like the flowers in your hair. What type are those?”
He began to reach out to touch them, but then stopped himself and merely pointed to the flowers. He recognized them from the garden but couldn’t think of the name. Her style did make her think of a song his mom used to sing while gardening though. A song about gentle people and San Francisco, which Parker mentally noted definitely matched Cleo. He wondered if that song would be played.
Parker reached nervously into his jacket pocket to feel for the money, momentarily worrying if he’d dropped it on his run. It was still there. “Also, my mom wants pictures of me with friends. Do umm, do wizard balls do pictures?” He’d never thought to ask, and honestly didn’t know what the answer would be.
41Parker FitzgeraldNo princes here, and I don't think any pumpkins1402Parker Fitzgerald05
For a second, Parker looked like he was going to reach out and play with her hair, but he stopped. Had she imagined that was his intention, was she being paranoid, or had he nearly but then stopped himself? Either way, didn’t that prove he was alright - that she could trust him? She glanced at the floor, trying to not overanalyse but everything just felt so complicated all the time...
“I’m not sure on all of them - I mostly chose for the colours,” Cleo replied, regarding the flowers. She found that his compliment wasn’t as scary as she’d expected, mostly because it felt like he was complimenting the flowers rather than her, and because that was such a normal topic of conversation for them, “I’m pretty sure there’s some ragwort in there, and I found the orange one working its way around the edges of the wishing well. In one of my books, I found something that’s actually called a wallflower,” she added, smiling a little self-deprecatingly at how obviously appropriate that was, “I always figured that was just a… generic term. I’m not sure if it’s that or not. And I’m pretty sure I’ve got some St. John’s Wort too,” she chatted, relaxing into herself as she talked about the flowers. Her knowledge of the Irish flora that covered the gardens was a lot less detailed than her Herbology knowledge, and it was tricky sometimes to tell exactly what species or subspecies she had found - even to her loving and interested eyes, a lot of them looked awfully similar. But the ones that they had rooted out on Potions scavenger hunts were easy to identify. The Purebloods would probably think she was strange for putting Potions ingredients, things that were possibly classed as weeds, into her hair. But they would think she was strange for not wearing a fancy dress. They would think she was strange or unworthy for being of unknown parentage. She didn’t care what they thought.
“I’m not sure. I’ve never been to any either,” she answered, when he asked about photographs. She noticed that he had said friends... Did that mean that she was going to have socialise with the other people he knew, or was he going to go off with them for parts of the evening? She supposed she would worry about that when it happened. As they made their way into the hall, she noticed an archway with a backdrop at the other end of the room with a sign reading ‘Photographs’ but no one in attendance. “Maybe we have to wait until after the speeches and stuff,” she shrugged to Parker, but it at least looked like he’d get his wish.
OOC - if you want to, you can assume in your post that the speech and the prefect dance happen, and then pick up after it
The package had arrived for Lily three days before the ball, a week after she’d already ordered her robes. She’d perused through wizard’s catalogues secretly before bed for several days, wanting to match with Jozua – without telling him, of course – and had done her best to choose the most smashing dress robes a wizard would wear.
The box she’d received from home was wrapped and tied with ribbon – indicating her older sister’s handiwork – but Charlotte never usually sent her anything this large. Inside was a gorgeous royal blue abomination, but Lily put it to the side to read the sweet-smelling note.
Dearest Lily,
After you told us you were going to the ball with Jozua, I found the perfect dress and shoes for you to wear. It’s in your favourite colours, it’s not very revealing and looks elegant. I even had it tailored for you so it would fit. Of course, it would have been better if I had your exact dress size, but by now you’ve learnt how to make alterations on your own. I know you would never wear heels, so I included some gorgeous flats that would match.
Now, before you reject it and send it back, think about how you’d like to look for your very last ball at Sonora. Ball years are special. Dressing up for this one occasion wouldn’t be the most terrible thing in the world, would it? I’d love to see you wear it, Lils, and I’m certain your date would too. Besides, no one at Sonora has ever seen you in a dress – it would make quite the statement showing up and shocking everyone. I love you, Lily, and please would you take photos when you wear it!
Love always, Charlotte
P.S. Earrings are included, courtesy of Adam.
Charlotte knew how to drive a hard bargain, and, after putting it on, Lily didn’t think she looked terrible. She thought she looked rather pretty – it was the first time she’d ever said that about herself. She styled her pixie cut to look more feminine as she’d seen in catalogues and clipped on the earrings – since her ears weren’t pierced – and silently thanked her siblings.
Normally, Lily wouldn't have been convinced by such flowery words and lovely wrapping, but the mysterious leaflet she’d received earlier that year had ultimately convinced her to wear the dress. Clothing didn’t make her a witch or a wizard, so it didn’t matter if she wore a dress or trousers. She would still be Lily Spencer. Even though wearing this made her feel self-conscious, she also adored how she looked in it. It was just so different. And, it had pockets to hide her hands in when she wanted. Brilliant.
Lily twirled around, first watching the royal blue cloth widen out with her spins, then caught glimpses of herself in the mirror. She couldn’t stop staring at her reflection, but after twenty minutes she finally tore herself away, not wanting to be late. She didn’t remember that her date with Jozua was a date until she walked to Cascade Hall where they’d planned to meet.
Seeing him made her feel embarrassed, so she looked down at her dress. “Well, what do you think?” she asked in one breath. She felt nervous for some reason and it made her want to run upstairs and change. “I know it wasn’t what either of us expected, but Charlotte sent it and I thought I might as well wear it tonight, with the Prefect dance and all. I might never be able to wear it again, you know, though that’s only partially true since my cousins have a fancy Christmas Eve ball every year and I’m certain society has got loads of fancy dress balls for adult pure-bloods.” Lily shut her mouth and cleared her throat, waiting for a response.
40Lily SpencerMaking an entrance.357Lily Spencer05
Hoping this goes reasonably well (tag Georgia).
by Joe Umland
Julian, Joe thought, had been all but born to be a mother. Taking care of things and making people feel vaguely ashamed of themselves until the point where she became annoying were both seemingly ingrained in her very DNA. When push came to shove, though, no matter how annoyed one was with her or what degree she knew about said annoyance, she was there – glasses of cool water after her brothers got overheated outside in summer, whether this was through play or from garden work, cookies for occasions happy and sad, tea at every turn, and, just when Joe had started to mentally moan and groan over his mother’s belief in not spending money on new clothes in a year when he had to be in a fairly visible part of a public event where clothes were looked at a lot, Julian had sent two items.
The first had been (in between photographs of her and their parents and their brothers all posing with a bundle with a prominent forehead, tiny hands, and a lot of ruffles and even more rambling about how William was angry with John because John had given the baby a stupid nickname and with everyone for taking that stupid nickname and creating another nickname out of it and bickering a bit with Julian herself over whether or not to actually put the copies of Mom and John’s favorite paintings which Mom and John had given her in the nursery) a letter informing him that she was an actual mother now and intended to make him a godfather when he got home. The second had been a parcel containing the second page of the letter on top of a set of navy blue dress robes. It had begun in very specific directions for how to modify them to fit him better, and continued with,
Don’t open them up too fast – I wrapped up some packets of tea and filter bags to brew them in, and they’re inside the robes. Keep your feet on the floor and don’t do that stupid thing with your hair.
See you soon, Love, Julian
Joe was not exactly sure what the stupid thing he sometimes did with his hair was, but he hoped he had not done it, because he thought he looked pretty good as he checked to make sure there were no hems turned the wrong way or scuffs on his shoes or anything else out of place before he made his way down to the common room. Once there, he stood slightly awkwardly holding a small corsage, hoping this didn’t become hideously awkward once Georgia arrived.
"Good evening," he said when she did. "You look great. These are for you," he added, offering the flower thing.
OOC: Beginning this pretending it's in Tepp for simplicity; feel free to jump to the Hall proper.
16Joe UmlandHoping this goes reasonably well (tag Georgia).329Joe Umland05
Jozua stood in front of his mirror, studying his reflection doubtfully. The dress robes were nice enough. Surely not up to Grandmother Maartin’s standards, of course, but definitely more distinguished-looking than what he normally wore.
He had bought them at the dress sale, from the booth set up by Aladren Robes. In the context of the Cascade Hall, and with an unusually large percentage of blue fabric on display, Jozua almost hadn’t realized it was the same shop where he bought his school robes every summer until he recognized the old man greeting the students coming to his booth. Then a guilty feeling that Jozua may have been the one who had infected the guy when he’d bought his new school robes last August - that he was there at all meant he had already suffered the disease that caused both Sonora and Aladren to be quarantined - led him to look at the robes on offer, and between actually needing a set of robes for the ball and seeing that Aladren Robes was one of the more affordable booths at the sale had resulted in Jozua not having much excuse not to buy something from them.
He wasn’t displeased with his choice, and it would have been where he got his robes anyway if there hadn’t been a quarantine, but he still thought he looked like he some actor in costume and not himself. His hair was too neat. His robes were too clean and unwrinkled and nicely embroidered. He looked like a Maartin, not a Sparks, and it made him feel uncomfortable, as it always did when he visited his mother’s family in the Netherlands. Like he was pretending to be something he wasn’t.
At least he’d look good for the prefect dance with Lily. Speaking of, he glanced at the clock and got moving. It wouldn’t do to leave his best friend waiting.
He got to their meeting spot in the Cascade Hall first, but not by much. In fact, he almost missed Lily entirely. She was nearly on top of him before he realized the girl in the dress approaching him was even her. Certainly she was close enough to see the look of shocked recognition when he put together the features and came up with Lily as the name belonging to her.
“Wow, you look . . . beautiful,” he said, sounding a little too surprised to be entirely complimentary, but it was at least honest. In truth, at that moment, he was too stunned to be anything but honest.
He must have gotten entirely the wrong impression when talking to her about what they’d be wearing, because he had truthfully been expecting to find her in wizard’s robes not unlike his own.
Well, there went the half formed idea he’d had of sneaking off to climb trees like they had in their first year during the ball. Not that he hadn’t already been second guessing that plan on the grounds that this was a date-date and she might think he was euphemising a different kind of sneaking off, and he wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t slap him if he did that.
This one ball might be a date but they were definitely not a couple by any stretch of the imagination at this point. Lily wasn’t ready for that, and honestly, Jozua wasn’t really either.
Lily clearly felt about as uncomfortable about her dress as she did about dating him, if the torrent of words spilling from her was any indication.
“Really, you’re beautiful,” he repeated, holding out a hand tentatively, not quite sure how much physical contact was appropriate or welcome. Was holding hands too much? “Charlotte has good taste. It looks amazing on you.” Then, because it was Lily, and they were best friends forever before they were anything else, he added, smiling fondly, “I mean, it’s completely not you at all, but we can be imposters together for a night, right? Really awesome looking imposters. We can pretend we’re spies.”
1Jozua SparksYou did that very well348Jozua Sparks05
Jozua looked smashing and Lily’s stomach fluttered. It wasn’t the same overwhelming butterfly sort she’d felt with Geoff or Alex, so she didn’t think much of it. Primarily, she was concerned with the way he was looking at her, and if he approved. Shock was a good sign; it meant he noticed there was something drastically different with her appearance. Whether that was a good sense of shock or a bad one had yet to be determined.
She found out soon enough. No one had ever called Lily beautiful before. She felt her face flush almost immediately even though Jozua sounded surprised to find her so. She would have been surprised too, had she been in his shoes. His repetition reinforced her colour. “Well, um, thank you,” she said, feeling stupid for blushing so hard. Her instinct told her to punch him in the arm and play off her embarrassment, but Lily could mind her manners tonight. “You look really fit tonight. I like your robes.” He held out his hand, and Lily naturally moved to put her hand into his and grasp it, her thoughts catching up with her a second later. Was he trying to shake her hand? Or did he mean a high-five? Oh well, it was too late now.
The blush would not abate, and she glanced away to take a deep breath whilst screaming expletives in her mind as Jozua complimented Charlotte’s taste.
His next comment was more welcome, and Lily nodded, still looking away as her face gradually cooled. “I had wizard robes prepared, but my sister can be very convincing when she wants to be,” she replied. “But I suppose it’s fitting for this pretend. Lily Spencer and Jozua Sparks posing as a couple at a charity gala to search for the missing crown jewels. Or shall we change our names? I’ll be Sam Davies, detective extraordinaire.” She gave a moment for Jozua to decide if he wanted to change his identity before saying, “Shall we begin our search?” She smiled at him. It was easy, this – coming up with games and make-believe was what their friendship was founded upon.
Lily walked in with Jozua and stood with him at the side, still holding his hand, waiting for the Headmaster to make his opening statements. She felt eyes on her, whether or not they were actually there, but she refused to be intimidated. She liked this dress and she was going to wear it. If someone told her she couldn’t climb trees or ride a broom as a result, she would right punch him or her in the nose. But being here, holding her best friend’s hand, felt oddly comfortable underneath the strange, unfamiliar territory. Jozua wasn’t someone she was afraid of scaring away with her chattiness and boyish behaviors. He was reliable and a fellow knight and peculiarly attractive in this light.
It was time for Prefects to open the ball with a dance, so Lily went to the open floor with Jozua. With him, it was usually all fun and games – and perhaps some late-night tutoring – but tonight was supposed to be different. Suddenly, she was regretting what she’d said earlier. She didn’t want this entire night to be a game – though on any other occasion it sounded like loads of fun searching for something bejeweled enough to pass for the crown jewels. She would save that idea for a later time.
“We don’t… have to pretend all night, do we?” asked Lily as they danced. She could feel her uncharacteristic blush coming on again, so again she avoided eye-contact. She didn’t remember blushing nearly so much around Geoff or Alex. “I just mean it would be nice to dance as just Lily and Jozua, perfectly normal, magical teenagers with nothing particularly interesting going on.” Except that they were two best friends going on a date, but she left that bit out to give her face some time to return to its pale hue.
She was blushing. It was kind of cute. Better not to mention it though. Jozua knew from personal experience that only made it worse.
Oh, and now she was holding his hand. That was . . . nice. He felt a weird fuzzy feeling in his stomach. He liked holding her hand. And now he was blushing a little, too, but so was she, so it was okay.
Okay, good. Spies. Spies were easy and comfortable and they knew how to pretend, they were good at it, and it put everything into a context they could handle.
"Different names," he decided without needing to think about it. Spies used aliases during their missions, so of course they'd needed aliases, too, even if their real names were still Jozua and Lily. He wasn't sure if Sam Davies was supposed to be Lily's alias or her pretend real name, but if she wanted to be called Sam, it was probably an alias? Except Sam was a detective extraordinare, so did that make Sam the one going going on the mission to find the jewels? Best to ask.
"Is Sam your alias or your pretend real name? You can call me by my alias, um," he tried to think of a cool spy alias name, "Darrien Lang, but if we break character, my real name is, ah," oh, now he needed a cool spy name, "Spenser Hart." It was only after he said it that he realized he'd taken her last name for his first name, even if he was mentally spelling it differently. Oops. Oh well. It was fine. Oh, except he combined it with hart, which obviously sounded the same as heart and - gah. He was such a dork. He'd just have to pretend he wasn't subconsciously that corny. He was good at pretending, right? Maybe she'd think he was still blushing about them holding hands.
Which was still pretty awesome, by the way. He liked holding her hand.
They went in, got herded by Deputy Skies to be stand with the other prefects, and soon enough it was time for the prefect dance.
Jozua knew how to dance. His mom had seen to that. You couldn't be half-Maartin and not know how to dance. So he took Lily - Sam - into hold properly and led her around the dance floor. Being Spenser and Sam took away most of the awkwardness. They were supposed to be good at this. After a few spins, though, Lily yanked that security away.
And suddenly they were just Lily and Jozua out on the dance floor. And that was okay too. Better than okay, really. Because Lily wanted to be just Lily and Jozua, dancing together, in front of all of their peers, and that . . . that was the best thing Jozua could imagine.
He smiled at her with joy in his heart and butterflies in his stomach and said, "Yeah. The crown jewels can wait." He took a slightly shaky breath and asked, "Dance with me, Lily Spencer?" Which, really, was kind of dumb thing to say, because they already were but it was the principle of the thing.
I foresee awkward conversations in our future.
by Lily
"Sam'll be my pretend name, Octavia Lee will my alias." Lily appreciated Jozua for remembering those details - they were ever so consequential in pretend realistic spy situations. Spencer was her surname - most likely a coincidence or a lack of creativity on Jozua's part - but she supposed it fit as a decent first name as well.
They were both blushing, which was all right as long as she wasn't the only one. Lily was reminded that Jozua had real feelings for her, which only made her blush more before they walked into Cascade together.
As they danced, Lily quietly impressed by her best friend's skill, he smiled at her in response to her question. Suddenly, she felt vulnerable together with him in front of everyone, but as long as she didn't step on the dress and trip, she would be fine. Now she understood why Charlotte liked to wear her hair long - it provided excellent cover in situations like these when one's face was an embarrassingly unnatural hue.
"We're already dancing," said Lily immediately, smiling a little at the silly question, but Jozua looked serious. Did he mean something else? Maybe he meant dancing again after this, which was fine with her. "I mean, of course I will, Jozua Sparks. I'll dance with you all night, if you'd like, except when we're at the refreshments table. Or unless we decide to escape to Labyrinth Gardens." Perhaps that came out wrong, because often couples on dates sought solitude to do other things than dance or play pretend. She coloured, hoping he didn't get the wrong idea. She didn't think either of them were ready for something like that. "If we wanted to take a break from the ball, that is." It was only sounding worse, so she stopped talking. Maybe it would be best to stop saying whatever was immediately on her mind for now.
But in a few seconds Lily couldn't help herself. "I don't think I've ever stayed at a ball long enough to know how it gets on," she said. She also had no clue what to do on a date with her best friend. They were already so close, the only thing missing was the physical affection, one step Lily was actually afraid to initiate with Jozua right at this moment. "Have you ever stayed at a ball till the end?" Was it an awkward conversation topic? She was certain it was, but she really didn't know what else to chat about.
40LilyI foresee awkward conversations in our future.357Lily05
Georgia had been prepared for dress shopping to be a complete nightmare, and at first it had been - the first few things she had tried on had all made her feel completely hideous to the point that she had wanted to cry with frustration. It didn’t help that her main tactic was wandering around vaguely, taking suggestions from Zevalyn, or from the shop assistants about what was popular, because she really wasn’t sure what she wanted. Except to look less fat. She knew there were certain alleged advantages that came with being a… bigger girl. She probably had more going on in certain areas than a lot of girls her age, and allegedly boys like that. Though the thought of actually showing off or emphasising any of that in anyway made her kind of cringe. So, what she wanted was basically a sack that completely hid her body in all of its ugliness whilst simultaneously looking fabulous and showing off her assets to their best advantage - without, in any way actually showing them, of course. Amazingly, with the help of one very patient and gentle shop assistant, she had actually found that. Kind of. The dusky pink dress had small cap sleeves, which made her feel a lot better than anything with thin straps as it disguised the tops of her arms which were one of her least favourite body parts. There was a flowery lacy kind of section which stopped just above the bust, giving way to a sheer fabric that formed the rest of the top - it emphasised the good parts of her shape without making her feel like she was at all showing… those. There was a sparkly band that ran just under the chest area, giving way to a long, flowy skirt, and it more or less hid her bulgy tummy, as best as anything was going to and… And it was nice. It was the nicest piece of clothing she had ever owned, and she really felt like she was going to prom - one of the many experiences that wizard school meant she was missing - and not only that, but that it might be a good evening.
She had been getting better at make-up throughout the year. She had been wearing foundation, blusher and mascara pretty confidently for most of the year, and for the ball had added some nice shimmery eyeshadow. It was mostly a delicate pink which complimented her dress thought she had also blended in a lighter shade in the inside corner and a little black at the outside corner. She still didn’t feel she had a handle on lipstick - it just made her mouth look big and ridiculous to her - so she had settled for tinted gloss. Hair styling was also still something of a mysterious art to her - her default being down, but a short ponytail when class required it. She had tried putting some twisty bits in it, and left a couple of strands to frame her face, which she had curled with her wand, but mostly it was in a sort of loosish bun which she had gone for making more formal by the addition of pink diamante pins.
She made her way down to the common room, where Joe was waiting. After almost five years in the wizarding world, she was kind of used to guys wearing what basically looked like dresses, but as she came down and found Joe in robes for the ball, she realised that she'd been imagining him in a suit. Hot on the heels of that realisation came the realisation that that meant she had been letting her mind wander over what her and Joe's evening might be like, and that perhaps she had given their Not A Date more consideration than she would care to admit.
"Thank you," she smiled as he complimented her. She knew it was just what you said in these situations, that he probably would have said it even if she looked attrocious but it still felt nice. "You too," she replied. And not just cos it was expected. Even with the surprise of robes, it was true. "Oh. That's really swret of you, thanks," she added, clearly surprised but pleased by the corsage. She hadn't really expected that... It was just a convenient arrangement, not really a date. They hadn't even firmly agreed to spend the rest of the evening together, although she kind of hoped they did because she wasn't sure she had masses of other options.
They made their way down to the entrance hall, and she just had time to catch Zev's eye and give her a smile before they were being arranged by Professor Skies and ushered inside because it was time to do that Dancing in Front of Everyone thing that she had been dreading.
Oh gosh. She had never really thought of Sonora as a big school, what with the mixed age classes and everyone pretty much knowing at least who everyone was, even if they weren't close friends. But now, with all eyes on them, it suddenly felt like an awful lot of people. The evening was suddenly not holding as much promise of being pleasant and enjoyable... She could feel her palms sweating and tried to wipe them surruptitiously on her dress, although she was pretty sure the hand she offered Joe was still slightly damp. Great. He was going to think she was totally gross. And then his hand had to go on her chubby waist. Wasn't dancing supposed to be kind of romantic? Right now, it seemed like it had been specifically designed to be as icky and humiliating as possible. Or maybe it just felt that way to her. It was, like basically everything in life, probably fine if you were skinny.
"Right. Here goes..." she muttered, half to herself and half to Joe. As the introduction to the waltz began her lips moved slightly, silently counting one, two, three, one, two, three in a way that suggested she had at least looked into the basics of what she was meant to be doing but that speaking whilst she attempted it might be a poor idea. \r\n \r\nOOC - Georgia's dress
Thinking about dancing in front of dozens of people was a little bit terrifying, but Mikey highly doubted he’d dance with anyone. Luckily, he’d caught what seemed to be like the final symptoms of the disease before the ball, so he was feeling much better now. Still a little weaker than usual, but almost 100% back to his normal self.
Lately, Mikey had started looking for Jasmine everywhere, mostly unintentionally, because he wanted to be good friends with her. He didn’t know if someone had asked her to be his date, but he hoped not. It would be cool to hang out with her during this whole shindig. Mikey glanced around the ball after the Prefects finished their opening dance, trying not to seem like he was looking, though he definitely was. Maybe if he asked her, she would dance with him. Or better yet, she could ask him to dance.
The only problem was he didn’t know how to.
The twelve-year-old was finding this whole thing pretty intimidating. The standard dress robes was stifling, and it was getting kind of boring sitting and doing nothing. Watching other people dance was not his idea of fun, unless someone tripped or something funny happy. He wished they could go on a school field trip to the desert and go camping, or do something more active like hiking or swimming. He wasn’t that great on a broom yet, at least not like the older students, so he was at least glad getting creamed at Quidditch wasn’t an option.
Mikey spotted Jasmine before his thoughts ran away with him, and he stood up quickly. He walked over, feeling both nervous and outgoing at the same time. “Can I join you?” he asked. Always better to ask first like his parents had taught him. “Did you see all the snacks they had at the buffet? It looks pretty good,” he said.
After a moment, he asked, “Do you like dancing?” He mostly asked it to be polite and gauge what she wanted to do. If it turned out she really wanted to dance, Mikey would have no choice but to join her. He did like trying new things once in a while, but he really hoped he wouldn’t look like a fool in front of everybody.
19Michael DiCaprioHoping for a non-dance (tag Jasmine)1406Michael DiCaprio05
The floral-embroidered navy suit was just too good not to wear, so Isaac showed up dressed to the nines. His short black hair was brushed back and to the side, and he had decided to wear a skinny black tie to complete his outfit instead of the red and white polka dotted bowtie that the vendor had pressed on him. Isaac had even used one of the Korean face masks that his sisters had secretly packed in his bag for him, so his skin was shiny and smooth.
All of his classmates looked so good, and he really liked dressing up and seeing everyone else dressed up too. The girls were especially pretty and he hoped one of them would dance with him. The sucky part about this school ball was that everyone seemed like they knew how to ballroom dance. Neither of his parents had bothered to teach them how to do fancy choreographed dances, but he could at least pretend with the basic lessons the school had offered and what he’d seen in movies.
Isaac didn’t know what to do while the Prefects danced, so he went to the buffet table and took a look at the spread. He sighed, but instead of obsessing about what others would think of him, he grabbed a cookie and munched on it while the Prefects finished up. If he became a Prefect next year—which he really hoped for—hopefully the ball would never happen again during his time at Sonora and he wouldn’t need to learn some serious dance moves.
Isaac was on his second cookie—nervous munching, he realized too late—and he brushed his hands free of crumbs afterwards, deciding to ask someone to dance with him. Maybe when the music got a little better.
Being at a dance without a group of friends felt weird, not that Isaac had much experience with dances in general, so he lingered around the buffet and watched other people dance for a little while. He scanned the room, looking for a girl without a dance partner. Even if he didn’t have a date, he could still have fun at the dance. He could ask a bunch of different girls to dance if he wanted—if he could find that many girls without dates—and make new friends.
Thinking that way was pretty freeing, so he finished his cup of punch and locked onto one girl around his age. Isaac made sure his hair was still in place before he walked up to her with a smile. “Hey. Care to dance?” he asked.
The best kind of ball is the kind you fetch (tag N and S)
by Raine Collindale
The ball really didn't hold much promise of excitement for Raine. She had fond-ish memories of the one in her second year because she had spent the evening hanging out with her friends, but the whole evening had a stiff, formal air to it - it was the kind of thing that was fun to people who thought they were classy and important, people who thought they were better than her. The way people dressed, the music that was played... None of it was to her taste.
Now that they were all older, people were starting to couple up and go on dates for things like this. She had sort of hoped that someone might ask her. She wasn't really a fan of dancing but she couldn't imagine many of the boys her age wanted to spend the evening waltzing either... And she was definitely a fan of the things they might get up to instead. Although, the trouble with that plan was that there really weren't that many guys her age. Ben was dating Tess, and Joe had already made it clear he wasn't interested. It was a shame that Isaac was only a fourth year. He had thrown a whole school party, so he was probably quite good fun.
The one silver lining to the cloudy evening was that Nevaeh didn't have a date either, so Raine could spend the evening with two of her best friends, including one of the only reliable guys in her life. She greeted Nevaeh and Scout enthusiastically, hugging them both. Her wrists were decked out with silver bangles and she clinked when she moved. Her dress was a reworked version of one of her favourite circus costumes - a purple sequined leotard which sparkled every time the light hit it, which she had made more formal by adding a long floaty pieces of fabric around the waist. With a few tweaks here and there, she had managed to make it into a passable skirt, ruched at the back and showing her legs at the front, a bit like a cancan dancer.Her hair was slicked up in a high bun, the way she wore it for shows, and her eyes were swirled with elaborate glittery patterns. Looking like a princess for the night was not exactly her thing.
Apparently though, it was Georgia’s. And, more to the point, Joe’s. Or rather, it was something he liked in a girl.
“Oh. So, that’s Joe’s type, is it?” she asked, unable to keep a clear note of bitterness out of her voice. She had not told any of her friends about her attempts to flirt with Joe - after all, they had ended in him rejecting her, which made it embarrassing. She also had no idea that she had been Joe’s first choice but that she had managed to shoot that idea down before he’s had a chance to voice it. And no, she didn’t want to be up there with him, in front of everyone, but it hurt to know what he was into was something she was never going to be. “He’s here with Georgia,” she clarified for Nevaeh’s benefit. “She’s kind of…” her brain searched for a socially nice way to say what Georgia was. She sort of wanted to say ‘fat’ but that sounded spiteful (although perhaps that was part of why she wanted to say it... ) but that didn’t really explain it well to Nevaeh. Georgia had a body type Raine definitely didn’t. And maybe Joe regarded that as a good thing. “She’s curvy. And she dresses nice. Does make up like a teen magazine kinda girl. I guess guys are more into that kind of thing…” than people like me. She trailed off before the last words but they were strongly implied. She knew Nevaeh probably didn’t know too much about how she, Raine, looked compared to other people. But she probably knew Raine liked bright colours. She knew about some of Raine’s favourite circus outfits because she had described them to her, and that Raine’s family was generally… kind of different. She had probably figured out that Raine either didn’t have a lot of money or didn’t spend it on clothes if she did. Raine briefly wondered whether Nevaeh’s vision impairment was a factor in how they’d stayed friends. Raine wasn’t really like other people in how she dressed or how she did her hair. Nevaeh might have got enough hints to work this out, but she wasn’t comparing Raine and her freakish appearance on the daily to glossy haired girls like Georgia. Joe though, clearly was. And was finding her wanting.
OOC - Nevaeh’s author stated that she would not be partaking in the prefect dance and that she and Scout would be hanging out with friends.
13Raine CollindaleThe best kind of ball is the kind you fetch (tag N and S)327Raine Collindale05
The chances were that the headmaster was a homophobic old fusspot. The chances also were, according to Selina, that he would not put any effort into figuring out how any of the miscellaneous adults present related to his staff members and that he would leave pretty early. And so it seemed relatively safe for Danny to join the festivities from the beginning, just so long as he wasn’t too closely or obviously Tarquin’s husband. Danny was generally all for being loud and proud about who they were, but he recognised that there were certain lines, certain people not worth engaging on the subject, and getting his husband fired - fired in a humiliating and unkind way that exposed him to hatred and bigotry - was not something he was seeking to do. So, he was being good, and pretending to not actually be there with Tarquin, and doing his best not to look like a rampaging homosexual who was out to corrupt the children, or whatever the heck it was conservative freaks like Mortimer Brockert thought “people like him” were “up to”.
So far, this plan involved lurking near the refreshment table. Age wise, there weren’t many staff members he could be reasonably associated with. Although people did date across age gaps. But again, that would have required looking, analysing, caring on the headmaster’s account. And by all accounts, he didn’t really do many of those things. Age-wise, apart from his own spouse, he matched best with Selina, and anyone who was bothering to assume who he might belong to (and who had absolutely no gaydar because he radiated camp like a row of tents, although this was somewhat subdued by the fact he was neither moving much or speaking but which he felt was still strongly emphasised by his shoes, a very nice pair of burgundy dragonhide dress shoes with Monstrap fastenings which he was relatively confident no straight man would pick) would probably assume he was hers. John Skies had done them a favour in that department by being stuck somewhere on a business trip.
Deciding that seeing a bunch of teenagers butcher a waltz wasn’t high on his list for the evening, he people watched instead, trying to pick out the students that Tarquin absolutely hadn’t broken any kind of school confidentiality rules by telling him cute or amusing stories about. Once the dance was done, he poured himself a cup of the punch (presumably non-alcoholic and hopefully remaining that way). Doing so helped him look like he was doing something, which then helped to explain why he, a random adult, was not with their assigned partner. The fact that his potentially presumed wife was ushering prefects around was another reasonable excuse, he supposed. He moved away from the table because it was likely to be a hotspot for students who had not discovered romance/lust and still preferred cupcakes (or those that had but needed to bury their sorrows of rejection in sugar). He thought about ambling closer to his husband, but before he got very far, he found himself crossing paths with another adult.
“Hi. Coming to join the abandoned spouses club, or do you work here?” he asked. “I’m Danny,” he added, extending a hand for what looked to not be a particular firm shake, “Fox-Reynolds,” he added, in case everything else about him wasn’t enough of a clue. Tarq had told a few of the staff members he had a husband, and having told a few, it was possible that more of them therefore knew. And anyway, it wasn’t something he had a problem with his colleagues knowing, as they all seemed a reasonable bunch of humans. At least, as far as his introvert husband could tell from his position cloistered in the library office hardly speaking to others.
13Danny Fox-ReynoldsMasquerading is appropriate at a ball, right?0Danny Fox-Reynolds05
Cleo didn't know all the flowers. For a second Parker was stunned. It was as if someone had told him the sky wasn't blue, but actually undulating purple. He was skeptical at first. He quickly realized though that it might be that the flowers were non-magical. The names he mentioned were some of the flowers his mom grew, and liked because of their medical reasons.
Cleo mentioned wallflowers and Parker scrunched up his face. He didn't know they were a real thing either.
"Huh. I just know the band. I like there are actual flowers though. Walls are a good place for flowers to grow. Make boring things more beautiful in the process," Parker said. He didn't quite get the term Cleo was referencing.
If Parker had thought about Cleo before the ball, or really thought at all, he might have assumed Cleo had never been to a ball either. From what she had told him, her father wasn't the sort to make her go to them and get all dressed up like Tatya. He was sure Tatya was around here somewhere in a much different dress and jewelry, but probably with Dorian who Parker found himself enjoying whenever they were together. Well, the two times they'd been together.
Either way, when Cleo motioned to the photo booth Parker perked up. Great. A picture of us will be great. Parker thought.
Parker had known he wanted a picture with Cleo, but as the speeches and dances had dragged on he'd been able to think more. He had gotten worried that she might think he was trying to get a photo to get closer to her physically. Parker had only ever seen the one way people were positioned together, and they were basically hugging.
He also thought of how awkward that photo might look, as Parker hadn't really started growing yet, or so he thought, and so Cleo was taller than him.
He had decided during the dancing that he was definitely worried about how his mom would react to a picture of him alone with a girl. But he wanted a picture of the two of them for when he was home, at the very least to show his sister so his sister would know Cleo next year.
So even though Parker did want to get closer to Cleo, and had seen how some of the older students were acting with each other, he wanted to make sure Cleo was ok with the picture and know it wasn't something she was making him do.
After all, Parker thought, she definitely needs a friend now more than ever. Not someone she needs to be worried about.
After the speeches ended and the first dance was over, Parker turned to Cleo.
"So umm, wanna take a picture with me?" Parker felt he needed to explain himself, so he quickly added, "I'd like a picture with you for when we're both not at school. You know a wallflower for my wall perhaps." Parker said the last bit in a joking manner, but immediately regretted it. He didn't mean to be flirting, did he? He paused momentarily, was still himself. No flashes of uncontrolled energy.
"Sorry, bad joke." Parker took a deep breath, "Come on, lets get a photo and some punch," he said with a smile as he nodded his head in the direction of archway. He reached up to pat the piece of juniper in his lapel and turned to begin walking towards the photo area. Parker felt a bit unsure of himself. He might have just seriously messed up their relationship with one poorly timed "joke". As he turned around he saw an elf standing around with some food and an eye on the two of them.
God, I'm such an idiot. Parker thought briefly, feeling like he was the wort on St. John.
41ParkerWorts, Walls, all kinds of flowers here1402Parker05
There's got to be something better than in the middle
by Cleo
“They’re a band?” Cleo asked. Although she spent a lot of her life listening to the wireless, her daddy had always preferred talky shows, nice radio dramas, or shows that played that music that he knew. Cleo’s knowledge of music was relatively good, just mismatched to her age. She also tended to forget the names of artists. “I tend to know songs more than bands… What have they done?” she asked. “Oh, and did you know that Professor Wright wrote plays for the wireless? Before he was our teacher, I mean,” she added, her musings naturally leading her back to that point. “I don’t know if that’s something he wants all his students knowing,” she added to urge caution in how much Parker repeated this interesting fact. She trusted him with it because Parker was nice but she thought other students might make fun of Professor Wright - not because there was anything inherently comical or uncool about writing for the radio but because children were mean when they didn’t like somebody. Professor Wright was quieter and gentler than some of the other Professors, and she could imagine some of the bolshier students giving him a hard time, which she didn’t want to happen. She liked him.
Parker’s reference to wallflowers making things more beautiful merely got a nod. He was clearly referencing the flower and Cleo, being rather literal and none too poetic, was in no danger of misreading this as a veiled compliment, which was lucky because it would have startled her if she had been inclined to do so. The joke about a wallflower for his wall got a smile. She assumed he was referencing her as the wallflower that time, but it was in a funny, friendly way, and it also reassured her that he had understood her implication that she might prefer to lurk around the periphery than be the center of the action, which she appreciated.
“I thought it was funny,” Cleo reassured him, as he apologised for his joke. Of course, having grown up with a single father, Cleo’s baseline for humour appreciation was dad jokes, undiluted in their power to amuse as there was no mother to give a counteracting eyeroll and pass on the message that this humour should be tolerated rather than enjoyed.
“Sure,” she agreed, heading towards the archway with him, as he suggested getting their pictures done and having a drink.
OOC - if you get around to replying, feel free to write for the ball photographer. They’re part of the scenery, so they’re up for grabs for anyone to control.
13CleoThere's got to be something better than in the middle389Cleo05
The evening was off to a relatively interesting start - certainly a surprising one. Ingrid had been ready for the ball - or rather had thought she was ready - when Tatiana had crossed paths with her in the girls’ corridor. Her teammate had greeted her with “You look pretty!” which was fairly normal as ball social niceties went, although she couldn’t decide if the intonation sounded off for any reason other than it being Tatiana. She hadn’t had time to return what she assumed to be a compliment before Tatiana had told her to wait, and rushed back into her room. The younger girl had appeared moments later, holding out some of jewellery with the words “Here - you can borrow some, these look pretty.” Ingrid had thanked her, genuinely touched by the sisterly gesture, and was now decked out with some rather nicer accessories than she would have come to by herself - which would probably have been none, save some fairly simple earrings.
In terms of the three Wolseithcrafte girls, Ingrid fell in the middle in terms of dressiness. Francesca either had no time for such trivial matters as clothes or didn’t trust her own taste or both, but her oldest sister stuck to a firm rotation of classic cuts and colours, the kind that were never out of fashion and which she knew from trusted shop assistants suited her. Her wardrobe was almost entirely navy blue and cream, with the occasional splash of dark red, all of which easily matched together whichever combination was chosen. Jemima was very into self-expression, and artistic in temperament, with a penchant for anything orange, anything with exciting patterns on it, and - most especially - anything with exciting orange patterns. Her clothes would frequently have been disastrous if paired wrongly but she had a good eye for how things went together, even when on paper or according to fashion theory, they should not have done - and, on someone without Jemima’s ready confidence and personality, might easily have failed to. Ingrid wasn’t passionate about clothes but she liked to look nice for special occasions, and tended to prefer standing out a little from the crowd. Being closest to Jemima both in terms of age and emotionally, it had been hard for her not to rub off a little. They didn’t have very similar tastes, but Jemima could appreciate when something was good or interesting or suited a person even when it wasn’t to her own personal liking, and appreciated Ingrid’s willingness to be adventurous. Because of this, Ingrid also trusted her when she said something just flat out didn’t work - Jemima knew the difference between something not being something she liked, and something not suiting Ingrid, and was loyal and honest enough to call out which was which. Ingrid wished her sister had been available as a dress shopping partner. The best she had been able to do was run through some design ideas and get her measurements taken by Ann and Ann but request that they send the design via her sister for approval.
The dress was wine red - a fact that annoyed her mildly, as it reminded her of Francesca’s conservative choices, but the colour suited her and she knew her dress was never something her sister would have worn. It had a relatively low front and was fitted to her slender, athletic figure, a slit up the side showing off one of her long legs. None of this was the best part though. It was made from an illusion fabric, so that when she twirled, a pattern rippled across it just for the briefest of seconds. She had chosen to have the fabric mimic dragon scales. Her dark hair was piled up in a loose up-do, and her make-up was simply but elegantly done.
She met Fabian in the Common Room, and they made their way down to the Cascade Hall. As Ingrid knew full well how to waltz, the only issue she foresaw with the prefect dance was if there was a prankster on the loose, as their had been in Francesca’s ball year. Someone had had fun icing up the floor and Francesca had ended up taking a tumble, along with her date. Although given subsequent events, ending up underneath Jay Carey had probably not been as bad as it had seemed at the time - it seemed to be something that, after that evening, her sister had rather acquired a taste for. In fact, looking at it a certain way, the prefects dance was win-win - no prankster meant that they all had a perfectly nice respectable dance in which they looked good. If they took a tumble, it might loosen Fabian up a bit and break the ice regarding non-ballroom touching. Not that she really fancied him. But it might be fun for an evening… Louis would probably have been more fun, certainly based on their track record, but he wasn’t proper company. Which was a shame… Still, Fabian would certainly be fun to flirt with, if nothing else, and maybe that would also annoy the Aladren captain, which was a bonus. If she couldn’t be getting Louis hot and bothered in one sense, she’d rather do it in the other… Not that she was vindictive, just they had always been competitive with each other. That meant that, if she couldn’t be having fun with him, she needed to have more fun that he did. Starting with the prefect dance. Ballroom dancing was basically a socially appropriate way for them to press up against each other and have conversations no one else could hear. This was one of the few observations of Theodore’s that had stuck with her - she was pretty sure he had been trying to call out hypocrisy, but she had just made a mental note of how useful an arrangement he was describing.
“Any particular way you’d like to spend this evening, after we’re through with this dance?” she asked. The art of flirting as a proper lady was to make remarks that could, if deniability was required, be completely innocent. But which the smile she was giving Fabian suggested he was free to take a different way if he so chose…
Clothing, unlike jewelry, was not something Tatiana had ever given much thought to. Papa would have his people bring in beautiful collections of jewels for his daughters to select gifts from, but their dressmakers were under Mama’s command and Mama did not give her girls much of a say in what they wore. Mama had even selected Anya and Katya’s ‘colors’ for them – they had been wearing lilac and pink, respectively, since infancy and showed no inclination to change. Tatiana had stronger opinions on colors, but on cut and style, she did not even attempt to offer opinions where they were not welcome.
All this had abruptly changed when she had met the not-Pineapple-ladies at the dress sale. Suddenly, she had been in a position to make selections on her own account, and it had proven frustratingly difficult. She did not even know many of the words she needed in her own language, never mind English. Eventually, though, with some patience and Tatiana finally, for a few key details, drawing pictures to communicate what she didn’t know how to say, she had taken an example dress and had it altered to more or less most of her specifications.
The dress had started off midnight blue, and slightly blouson, off-the-shoulder midi with sleeves which had come together under the elbow and then ballooned out like petunias. Tatiana’s first order of business had been to communicate that she needed the sleeves changed, the tight part taken out so the whole sleeve hung loose and wide so it would be more in keeping with the Russian tradition. She had also managed to get the color lightened to a brighter navy and a slightly lighter blue lace overlay (to imitate the elaborate embroidery she’d have on formal clothes at home) and a yellow sash added. She had also – incredibly – managed to indicate that she wanted a wide yellow velvet band, edged in faux pearls, to push her hair back from her face – not quite a proper headdress, but close enough. The skirt was actually surprisingly close to the right length already, long enough to be formal without being so long as to let anyone back home think she was pretending to be a grown-up lady, and altering the neckline to a wide boatneck which would reveal her collarbones and part of her shoulder while still leaving a little fabric on the shoulder had been a fairly easy change to communicate. After that, there had only really been one thing to settle, and that something she felt better equipped to decide: which jewels to wear with this concoction.
Mama, she knew, would have told her to wear plain pearls. Tatiana herself had wanted to wear aquamarines in yellow gold, the gold drawing together with the yellow highlights of her outfit and the aquamarines lightening up the darker blue of the dress. She was wearing a plain strand of white pearls and matching studs. Mama had not been exactly pleased to receive a bill of sale in English and had sent Tatiana a mild scolding in a letter, along with one of her own brooches, a golden sunburst set with amber. Tatiana had pinned this to the center of her neckline, tied her sash on the side so the streamers fell down her right side instead of her back, and decided not to annoy Mama further by violating her sense of propriety about earrings and necklaces.
Even with the plain white pearls, though, Tatiana had been so impressed with her own appearance when she first tried everything on that she had rushed out of Pecari, intent on finding her friends to show off. Finding that first year with the camera first, she had managed to get him to understand that she wanted him to take her picture. How, between his total lack of Russian and her tendency to lose some English when excited and their mutually bad French, they had managed it, she had no idea, but they had ended up doing something almost like a formal sitting, with pictures of Tatiana (from the front and in profile) sitting primly on a bench, standing near a fountain, looking at flowers, and just standing with greenery as a background. He had looked thoroughly confused and slightly offended when she had told him to just send the счет to Papa, she thought, but by that point she had already been on the move again, too worked up too stay still anymore, though she had just gone back to Pecari and changed her clothes again, deciding to save her nice ones as a surprise for the boys at the Ball.
Now (after a slight detour to finally live out a dream and spruce up Ingrid and make her look even prettier) it was time to do that. She stepped into the Cascade Hall as though she had never been there before, being careful of her walk for once to avoid damaging anything, unaware that her total lack of make-up might have looked slightly incongruous beside the ornamentation of everything else about her to some of her viewers. Mama did not approve of make-up, so even Anya didn’t have permission to wear any and Sonia did so only where Mama couldn’t see. She was straight-faced and neutral as she entered and walked around, but broke into a smile when she saw one of her friends and started moving in that direction.
OOC: Tatiana’s ‘first year with the camera’ is Nathaniel Mordue, who I can write for since he’s also mine. I am also, despite having failed to finish writing it out yet, declaring her Not Sick anymore by the time of the Ball.
Crossing your toes might not be the best idea here.
by Joe
Overall, Joe thought things were going well so far. He had a date at all, which meant he would not have to bring further shame on the name of the house of Umland by either doing something stupid or refusing to do something which was in his job description. Said date was pleasant and amusing company who looked very pretty tonight and whose dress did not inspire an excess of Distracting Thoughts and was overall the kind of dress which would not outrage his mother’s very conservative Catholic sensibilities if she somehow ended up knowing about it.
All that was good. Brilliant, even. There was only one problem remaining: actually dancing.
Technically, Joe did know how, more or less. Julian had taught him. It was one thing, though, in his sister’s family room with said sister, in capris and tennis shoes, for a partner and everyone laughing and not taking it at all seriously, and quite another here, before God and everybody. How did Julian manage this all the time? How had she learned it in the first place? Had Charlie taught her when they were in school, or had William done so later, or was it just something girls somehow Knew?
He noticed that Georgia appeared to be mouthing the steps to herself. That probably ruled out that last wild idea, then. Something about this helped him retreat from the impulse to let his mind flitter about, though the end of this act of being publicly goggled at while he felt as though he were play-acting with only half a script still couldn’t come fast enough.
“I can’t believe people used to think waltzing was shocking,” said Joe. “How - much easier could that have been, right?” He edited what he had actually meant to say at the last moment, turning it into a joke because he thought that it might not be gentlemanly to discuss how early objections to the waltz had involved the scandalous thoughts that could occur when pretty much the other person’s entire body was in such close proximity. "Er - I did, you know, not ruin your dress, right?" he asked.
It was, he thought, probably for the best that Raine had shot him down before he could even ask her earlier in the year. He had caught a glimpse of her dress earlier. That was not the kind of thing one’s prim Catholic parents could find out that one found extremely interesting. It was impossible to imagine Dad…he wasn’t even going to go there. It was better if he just focused all of his attention very firmly on what was actually in front of him.
“Want to get drinks?” he asked Georgia.
16JoeCrossing your toes might not be the best idea here.329Joe05
Parker nodded to Cleo's question. He realized that possibly the Wallflowers weren't popular in the wizarding world.
"They, umm, are a band my parents listened to. The one my dad used to play a lot is I think called Heroes? The line I remember from the song is 'We can be Heroes, just for one day."
Parker was a bit surprised about Professor Right. He knew that the professor was an interesting person, but hadn't thought of him as a play writer. Parker fidgeted a bit with his jacket though. He was uncomfortable feeling like he was missing out on what might be a big part of wizarding culture.
"That seems cool. I promise to keep quiet, but umm... what is a wireless?"
Wireless for Parker meant phones and internet, and he was pretty sure that Professor Right didn't write for those, though maybe he did some stuff on YouTube. Parker wondered if there was a wizarding YouTube. From what Parker had seen there weren't really movies, unless you counted the moving photos in books and newspapers, so he doubted there would be a YouTube for wizards. Though maybe there were moving comic books. Parker made a mental note to check in with the librarian to see if they existed.
Parker let out a sigh that was louder than he had anticipated when Cleo mentioned that she thought the joke was funny. He saw the elf turn away with the tray of food, and Parker slowed down so he could walk next to Cleo instead of in front of her.
Trying to distract himself as they walked, he began to talk. He meant it to be about nothing in particular, but the subject that jumped out of his mouth surprised him. He hadn't mentioned it yet to anyone, though once he got going, he didn't stop.
"So, umm... my sister, Lyssa, will be coming next year. She apparently got her letter. Surprising our family again, cause what's odder than have a magical child when you aren't magical? Having two. Though this time it happened without someone appearing in the kitchen and freaking my mom out. I do't know what house she'll be in, but my mom told me I am supposed to take care of her. I don't know how I am supposed to do that if she isn't in Pecari. And to be honest, I don't know if she would be. How do you take care of someone when they aren't near enough to you to take care of? I dunno"
Parker paused briefly as they walked up to the photo booth. He turned to look at Cleo. The flowers in her hair definitely suited her.
"Look, I am sorry that we didn't get to spend as much time together this year. I know I couldn't always be the one to help you. But umm...anyways, I was reading up on a few things, and I don't think my sister will experience anything. And I was wondering if you could help me keep an eye on her next year?"
Parker had hidden in his request for Cleo something he'd been wanting to say, without knowing how. He wanted to help her in some way. He knew she wouldn't want him to help her, or believe that he could help her, but he wanted to do it anyways. He was reading about anyway he could help or just to know stuff in general, cause he wanted to spend time together with her. Parker knew he wanted to help for selfish reasons, but he felt either way help might be help.
He turned to see the photographer was sitting smiling at the two of them with such a wide smile that Parker momentarily was startled and moved his head back a bit.
"Hi. We'd like to have our picture taken?" Parker said stepping towards the woman with curled hair.
She clapped her hands together as she walked up to them,"So great. The first photo of the night, and my first couple of the evening."
Parker's eyes went big. "No, we're just friends," he responded quickly. To Parker's horror his voice actually cracked on the word friends.
Oh.God. was all Parker could think as the woman nodded slowly raising one of her eyebrows.
"Come this way and stand here then friend one," she said pointing to an sparkling gold x on the ground. Parker noted that she was saying friend in a slightly odd way, that made Parker think she didn't believe that they were simply friends. "And you stand here friend two, facing friend one," as she pointed to a sparkling silver x. As Parker stood this close to Cleo he could swear he could smell the flowers in her hair.
In his head he started to count down from ten.
41ParkerMe & Cinderella, we put it all together1402Parker05
"Got it," Jozua nodded, committing the name and alias to his short-term memory. He doubted this character play would come up again much in the future, except maybe as an inside joke, but he did want to remember it for at least the evening. He was also glad she didn't make a comment about his own 'real name'.
What she did respond to was his idiotic question about dancing together, but then she corrected her initial response with something more . . . more. He didn’t even know what to call this conversation. Awkward, perhaps, though not their worst by a long shot. Romantic wasn’t quite it either, but it was in that neighborhood, almost? Maybe that was why it was kind of weird since that wasn’t their normal mode of interaction.
Or maybe it was weird because they were calling each other by their full names and asking stupid questions. And whose fault was that? Jozua’s. He was the weird one.
Truthfully, because it was Lily and they had a shared past ball history of escaping to the Gardens, Jozua did not read anything untoward into her suggestion. Well, he did, for a very brief moment, but then he told himself he was being a teenage boy and she didn’t mean it that way because it was Lily and escaping to the Gardens what they did during balls, because balls were stuffy and the Gardens were fun.
Then Lily asked a normal safe question that helped put them back into their normal comfortable mode of conversing. Still dancing, which was really nice, and he’d have to remember to thank Mom for making him learn, but comfortable together again, like they should be. “The only times I ever did stay until the end, it was in the Netherlands,” Jozua admitted, which was no doubt because he only ever went to balls in his maternal family’s company, and they never deigned to visit the States. The Sparks side was far too eccentric to get invited to anything like that in America. And too practical to ever want to be, though Dad did a good job pretending otherwise, to appease his in-laws when they visited. “So there were language barriers to make it even more hideously boring and tedious. I’m all for skipping out once we know who won the House Cup.” Teppenpaw had a title to defend, after all. He looked doubtfully at her nice dress. As beautiful as it was on Lily, he doubted its practicality. “Not sure how good that’s going to hold up to climbing trees tonight, though.”
1JozuaThere are some doozies in our past, too348Jozua05
“Oh, I might know it. That sounds familiar anyway,” Cleo mused. And if it was something Parker’s parents listened to, then that made sense with the rough age of her musical experience. The version going around her head was actually the original by David Bowie, but she didn’t know that.
“The radio,” Cleo clarified, when Parker asked about the wireless. Her daddy was Muggleborn, and so she knew a bit about Muggle technology, and the names for things in both worlds from him and from her grandparents, plus she had gone to Muggle elementary school. She therefore also knew the word WiFi and the concept of what it did but, having never assumed it wasn’t just… a word in its own right was unaware with the confusing overlap in vocabulary.
“You did look after me,” Cleo assured him. He seemed to feel like he’d let her down somehow, even though he’d consistently been the best friend ever. “Hey, I was the one that kept shutting myself away,” Cleo reminded him, when he apologised for not spending enough time with her. “And I doubt your sister’s going to do that, so you’ll be more than capable of looking after her. But of course I’ll help - especially if she’s in Crotalus. And everyone will look after her if she’s in Teppenpaw. She’ll be fine. Any idea where she will go?”
The photo lady presumed they were a couple but Parker hastily set her straight on that point, and then she seemed to accept it, calling them friend one and friend two in a cheerful manner as she stood them on their spots. Cleo was a little naive and tended to take what people said at face value, or not pick up so well on their tones of voice. She smiled happily, ready to have her picture taken.
13CleoWe could steal time just for one day389Cleo05
See the lights, see the party, the ballgowns
by Dorian Montoir
The trouble with trying to surprise an Aladren was that they were just too darn logical. The suggestion of getting ready together had been rebuffed as impractical, and Dorian had regretted making that his pretext. He knew Jehan wouldn’t turn him down or hurt him deliberately, but he had come it from the point of view of a practical arrangement. Dorian had made a vague attempt to re-explain himself, to try to ask… But he’d hexed himself in the foot with the ‘getting ready’ excuse and he couldn’t make his words work properly given that a) there was no logic to what he had said, he had merely been looking for an excuse and b) he was struggling to counter Jehan’s points in one of his weaker languages. He had tried to reiterate that it was more about spending time together but, especially as he had managed to draw attention to the fact that they needed to get ready, that had ruled out meeting up before the ball. It would have been ideal if Jehan had seen through his flimsy excuse just enough to realise that all Dorian wanted was his attention but not to realise that anything beyond that was going on. But Jehan hadn’t - had just seen it as a practical arrangement, which Dorian’s suggestion very much was not, and Dorian had had to go back to trimming his hedge, trying to not look hurt at the idea of Jehan not wanting to spend time with him. Given how bad he usually was at hiding his feelings, he wasn’t sure he had completely managed this.
He had continued to practise the poem, just in case, though with substantially less enthusiasm. He had also made a new copy - there was the original copy in the library book but he would have had to shrink that to fit it in his pocket for the ball, and if he did it wrong he might damage a library book, which was not a crime he was willing to commit, and there was the copy he had first made, but that had all his annotations about meaning and pronunciation. It was tempting to use that version to underline the point of how much effort he had made here, but the whole point of making so much effort had been to be perfect at it, and advertising the long and tortuous route he’d taken to said perfectionism rather undermined that point. So he had had the librarian use the duplication charm to help him make a new copy from the book.
The odds of a quiet moment were not in his favour. As far as he knew, the most likely make up of their group was three boys (him, Jehan and Vlad) to two girls (Tatya and Ruby). That meant that at any time if the girls wanted to be dancing, either he or Jehan would be occupied. At any point at which they did not want to be dancing, they would also be around. That had been rather his whole point with the idea of him and Jehan spending time together before the ball. Jehan had also pointed out how Dorian had said he wanted to spend time with everyone. And that was true. He did. He wanted to be with all his friends. He hadn’t chosen to take a date because he wasn’t in love with either of the girls of his acquaintance, and taking a date for the sake of it seemed silly, it was just choosing one friend over the others. But why did that have to be mutually exclusive with spending time alone with Jehan?
He had told Vlad he would meet him downstairs, and to tell Ruby the same, as he had been ready (intentionally) rather too early. He waited in the foyer, scanning the crowd, before making his way into the hall. It was not Jehan who found him first though, but Tatya. He smiled at the sight of her, especially in that shade of almost royal blue. It was a colour he liked a lot. Especially paired with the little hints of yellow. He… he supposed Tatya put those together a lot. He was fairly sure they were her favourites. That was probably why it struck a chord, and felt familiar and pleasant to his eye.
“Ochen kraseevaia,” taking even more care than usual to make sure he got his adjective correctly inflected. Tatya, for all she could seem prone to temper, would never really be upset or insulted if he got it wrong - in lessons she would chide him ‘Ya ne malen'kiy mal'chik’ (but only jokingly) if he got her wrong, or laugh ‘ty devushka, Dorya?’ if he got his own endings wrong (meant jokingly, but which hurt him more than she intended). Although he knew he would be forgiven, he did not want to imply she was masculine on the evening of the ball, and taking the time to be extra certain that he would not unintentionally do so seemed worthwhile.
Part of him wanted to search for Jehan still, but he knew it would be rude to be inattentive to Tatiana, so he focussed on her instead, assuming that the others would find them easily.
“We will have a fun evening. Us all together,” he stated with a smile.
OOC - Ochen kraseevaia - Very pretty (for a girl) Ya ne malen'kiy mal'chik - I am not a boy Ty devushka, Dorya? - Are you a girl, Dorian?
13Dorian MontoirSee the lights, see the party, the ballgowns1401Dorian Montoir05
Jozua was a surprisingly good dancer. She wasn't sure what she had expected, seeing as they'd hardly danced together before, but she was admittedly surprised. It was actually enjoyable - not tense with counting steps or making sure they didn't step on each other's feet.
"Don't worry about me," she replied. "It may not look like much, but I'll Transfigure something more appropriate to wear when we leave. But if worse comes to worst, you could levitate me into the branches." They'd never tried magic like that on each other before, and it would be interesting to be on the receiving end of it.
Lily wrinkled her nose. "A ball in the Netherlands, then? I can only imagine how posh it must've been considering the balls my cousins hold every year. Both hideously boring and tedious." Lily twirled and returned to his arms with a grin. "But no lovely Dutch witches caught your eye?" she teased. Even though he claimed to like her very, very much, a lovely witch was sure to be a pleasant distraction to any person their age. Or, at least, difficult not to notice.
She wondered for a moment if she would ever fit into that category. Charlotte certainly did. That was the reason why her older sister had so many suitors. Adam was married, but his charm and good looks had attracted many witches at English parties as well. Even with this beautiful dress, Lily didn't imagine herself being stared at and whispered about because of her lovely features. Perhaps it was more of a blessing than a curse for her, but there were times like right now that she wished to be distractingly attractive.
The Prefect dance ended and Lily pecked Jozua's cheek before mocking a curtsy. "Thank you for the dance, Mr Sparks," she said. "Care for another? Dancing is actually more fun that I expected. Maybe because I'm dancing with you." The statement sounded more romantic than she'd meant, but Lily held out her hand unwaveringly. "I mean, if you want," she continued, unable to stop herself in a moment of self-doubt. "Or we can visit the refreshment table and snack a bit."
You are a bit out of luck on that not dancing thing
by Jasmine
Jasmine was severely disappointed that none of the boys in or near her year had asked her to the ball. Not Gary. Not Parker. Not Michael. Not anyone.
In a moment of pique, she almost decided not to go at all, but then she saw her lovely dress looking all forlorn with nobody to wear it and the moment passed. Besides, she’d said she would go as friends with Peyton and she couldn’t leave her best friend in the lurch. Besides, half the fun was going to be getting ready together.
She put on the princess dress - pink and sparkly and with skirts that poofed out a good foot or more around her. The fabric was soft enough though that the skirts shouldn’t interfere with dancing with a partner should she be able to find one. With a little help from Peyton, she did her hair up in a lovely updo and added her favorite tiara to accent it. Between them, they applied makeup that added color to her face without it looking unnatural. Well, she supposed the glitter in her blush and lip gloss wasn’t entirely natural, but it wasn’t too overdone in her expert opinion.
When they were both ready, they inspected themselves in their mirror and Jasmine declared they both looked positively amazing and it was a real shame the boys in this school were all blind and oblivious.
They made their entrance and Jasmine raised an eyebrow at the bright orange robes of one of the prefect dancers. They weren’t bad robes, exactly, and she kind of envied the way they swished, but orange and yellow? Really?
After the older students finished, the dance floor opened up to everyone else. “I’m going to try to find a dance partner, if that’s okay?” she asked Peyton. “I think I saw Vlad over there,” she added, not wanting to leave her friend all alone while she was gone. “I’ll be back in a few.”
She hadn’t gone very far at all before Michael found her. Perfect. She smiled. “Of course,” she agreed when he asked if he could join her. She was briefly concerned when he then brought up the snack table but no, there it was. Her smile returned at a higher wattage than before. “I love dancing!” she declared, and took that as an invitation, grabbing his hand and started leading him toward the dance floor in her eagerness instead of letting him do the leading as was traditional.
OOC: Peyton’s involvement in this post approved by her author
1JasmineYou are a bit out of luck on that not dancing thing1397Jasmine05
Jozua grinned as Lily assured him that climbing trees was not out of the question tonight. And they called Aladrens problem solvers. “Right, good plan,” he approved. “Probably try transfiguration first. Wouldn’t want to tear the dress if my levitation is aimed poorly.”
They spun and turned in time with the music and the conversation moved with them. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Horribly posh. I was afraid to touch anything for fear it would shatter and cost my parents millions of galleons.” He shrugged, “They were pretty, I guess,” he conceded about the Dutch pureblood girls, “but they looked about as likely to shatter as anything else if I tried suggesting doing anything fun. Assuming they could understand me at all.”
Soon enough the Prefect dance concluded and for a moment Jozua froze after Lily kissed him, but then he recovered himself (no being weird, he had promised her) and returned Lily’s curtsy with a grin and an over the top bow. “It was an absolute pleasure, Miss Spencer.”
Then she even went on to request another dance, stating outright that she enjoyed dancing with him more than she normally liked dancing. Jozua tried really hard not to preen and look absurdly pleased with this turn of events. Not entirely successful in that regard, his words were tinged with elation as he told her, “I’d be glad to go for another spin.” Then, worried she might think they were getting weird and couple-y for wanting to dance more - she did seem to be trying to back down from her own statement - he added, “The snack table looks crowded right now anyway, and it’ll still be there later.”
"Oh, Charlotte would murder me if this dress was torn," said Lily, unable to hide her smirk. "I can just imagine her expression. You can't deny it would be a fun game though, levitating each other," she added. Perhaps more fun for her than for Jozua, but she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Jozua didn't seem very interested in dull, pretty witches, and Lily felt a bit pleased. She liked that her best friend wasn't easily seduced by a pretty face like so many other wizards. She couldn't stand teenage boys sometimes whilst they ogled older witches or acted too afraid to ask the prettiest witch in the room to dance. Lily much preferred this: dancing with her best mate in a pretty dress with only an ounce of awkwardness sprinkled in here and there.
Lily smiled at Jozua's response. He couldn't seem to hide his pleasure at dancing with her again, and she basked in his attention as she took his arm again. "Lovely. You're right, it will be. The ball's only begun, anyhow." She was quiet for a moment, the thought of Dutch witches and teenage boys rising in her mind again.
"I wanted to ask," she said slowly, "if you've ever dated anyone? Or... been with a girl? I know we don't really talk about those sorts of things, but I'm just curious." She could feel the warmth in her ears as she spoke.