phoebe ❀ (feebees) wrote in valesco,
@ 2008-10-29 13:41:00

Entry tags:

aberforth dumbledore, agatha timms-catchlove, alice longbottom, bess fawcett, caradoc dearborn, chandler midgen, derek dobbs, frank longbottom, gabriel corner, glenda prewett, greta catchlove, group, james potter, john mulciber, kobe ackerly, lily potter, lucille lovegood, lydia proudfoot, mark timms, matilda mulciber, octavia lestrange, phoebe smethwyck, prisca loftus, psyke bardera, rabastan lestrange, rachel corner, roderick dearborn, thorfinn rowle, tristan bardera, wendy midgen, xenophilius lovegood

The Halloween Ball! --Posted for Friday!
In all of her years at Hogwarts, in all of her years being a prefect and working on a team full of the best students in Hogwarts, Phoebe Smethwyck had never been as impressed as she was right now as she stared around the Great Hall. Illuminated with candles in all shapes and sizes (and colors, a nifty charm a sixth year had found), the tables surrounding the dance floor were decorated with pumpkins, spiderwebs, and fall leaves, creating a spooky, yet beautiful design. The Ghosts of Hogwarts had volunteered to mingle more than usual (she thanked Nearly Headless Nick profusely, and promised to hold him a belated Death-Day party), captivating the guests with stories---how much truth they held, she couldn't be sure, but they were interesting nonetheless.

The band was a new kind of wizard rock, a bit more political than the Hobgoblins, W.O.A.R. There had been a lot of discussion at the prefect meetings about whether or not they should try and book them, but at the end of the day the naysayers (read: the Slytherins) were outvoted, and the band with the hit song "Do You Believe in M.A.G.I.C" was creating an incredible atmosphere.

So---people looked happy. They were laughing, smiling, and just---happy. Not something Phoebe felt like the wizarding world had been in a long time, and she was glad to be a big part of it.

Now, if only she could find a reason to be happy, herself.

ooc: No wands! Just your ID is needed. Everyone is welcome!

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bigbrother
2008-10-31 06:21 am UTC (link)

Dreadful. Absolutely dreadful this was. Thorfinn couldn't believe that he'd been assigned this--a bloody Hogwarts ball! This task should have been put on the fresh outs or the sophomores at most. It certainly did not call for a bleeding senior hit wizard. Curse the Ministry and the cryptic language of their decrees.

</i>Protect the muggleborns.</i> Ha! Thorfinn knew the real meaning behind the new laws. They all did. Anyone who had brain should have known the truth to the segregation, but he doubted the filth could reason it out. Sheep after bloody sheep being led to slaughter. If only the Dark Lord's numbers were larger. He wouldn't have to stand there smelling their stench, hearing their frivolous prattle. He could kill them--box them in and cut their throats. The dark wizard's ears thirsted for silent screams.

But no. This was his post. On All Hallow's Eve he was tasked with shepherding the cattle. The Hit Wizards roamed the edges of the festivities--two of them incognito and rest donning the tell-tale puce robes. Another pair was tasked with roaming the halls and keeping the revelers contained. A final pair was at the doors to check-in wands and confiscate any undesirables. Thorfinn lurked near the Minister and kept a watchful eye; grinding his teeth as the beat of the peppy music bashed him about the head.

Merlin help whoever tread in his path.

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headbitch
2008-11-01 04:18 am UTC (link)

Well, this had certainly been a mistake.

As she stepped gingerly around the edges of the crowd of ball attendees, one could immediately pick out the identity of Rhea Yaxley from her arrogantly upturned nose at the general atmosphere of the place. For something as classy as a masquerade ball, one would think that there would be standards as to who was allowed through the doors and not--but then, that's what she got for coming to any event held at Hogwarts. The place was practically a breeding ground for Great Britain's dirty and diseased population of mudbloods, and unfortunately it seemed that those same loathed group of citizens were the same ones making up the majority of the crowd tonight.

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and sidestepped a tipsy teen who stumbled past her, scrunching up her nose. It took Rhea no time to make up her mind---Octavia could have all of the fun she wanted, but she would be leaving without a companion. This was terribly beneath her in all senses; there wasn't even anyone worth speaking to there.

Or---well, maybe that wasn't entirely true.

The moment the thought had crossed her mind, Rhea noticed a familiar face on the edge of the hall, a certain hitwizard who seemed rather amusingly agitated and out-of-place. It was Thorfinn Rowle, a relative acquaintance whom she knew from a different number of places, although she had probably only spoken to him twice in her life. He wasn't a particularly polite or gentle man, as men went, and she might not have bothered knowing his name if he weren't quite as handsome as he was. But as it were, maybe there was still a shard of hope left for this night in the form of pureblood society's resident crazy.

Untying her mask--they were honestly the stupidest things--, Rhea made up her mind and stepped up beside him. "Don't look too elated to be here, darling."

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