17 Jul 2021, 22:48
Dress Distress
Taika, Finland
"I'm sorry but with all due respect, I- I couldn't possibly." The young redhaired girl shook her head at the dress that Hilja Virtanen had just showed her. Opeila's step-mother raised her eyebrows and sighed. It seemed that she had given up reminding Opeila of manners. The Slytherin had noticed quickly that her new 'brother' was right- his parents didn't like disagreements. What they said was truth and done.
Opeila had... mostly taken that to heart. She was not saying a word against whatever the Virtanens suggested, but in this topic she was putting her foot down. In three days was the Beckett Summer Ball that the family wanted Opeila to accompany them to but in their opinion the dresses she owned were nowhere appropriate for that kind of festivities. Even Lysander was on his parents' side on that one, so on one wednesday morning, a week after her arrival she met Lady Virtanen in her working room to look at the dresses she had pictured for her.
God, those were dresses. Skirts wide enough to keep other guests at one meter distance and fabrics... Opeila was seriously scared to damage them only by touching them. This was not the sort of wardrobe she was used to at all, even for festivities. She had seen some of her peers at Hogwarts attend balls in unbelievable dresses, some more intended for mature and curvy women than for the flat little girls, that most of them still were.
Opeila had steered far away from that, she had never been interested in trying to stand out with a particularly fancy dress, if anything she often felt like the fancier the dress and higher the heels, the further her classmates stayed away. Her grandmother would have never let her, which actually surprised her a little now, given Hilja Virtanen's expectations. Lady Margary had been from a society just like this, surely she had made her daughter wear dresses like that. Was it the scandalous life she had led in the end that made her decide not to do the same with Opeila? Or was it her dad? That was more likely, Nicholas Seilun would have never approved.
Opeila herself couldn't quite understand what good it would do to make her come along in public, to an event where she didn't know how to behave, who to talk to and who not, not to mention how to talk to them. If anything she would stand out like a dog in rainbow colours. Some of her classmates would probably be there and that fact had given her a headache for a while. What would she do if someone realized that she was no part of that fancy society? Not really at least.
Opeila had a rest of control left and that was the choice of her dress. The young teen intended to make full use of that, no agreeing out of politeness, if she was forced to go to that party, at least she could see to it that her clumsiness wouldn't end up being her downfall. With those skirts it certainly would.
"Lady Virtanen, this skirt would increase the chance of me causing an accident somewhere around... let's say 60%? I am saying no for the sake of saving you embarassment as well as myself." Lady Virtanen sighed and beckoned a house elf who took the dress away, as he had done it with four others before.
"Listen, child, this ball is not like those schoolpartys you attended with your classmates. You need to give it a little more, your normal wardrobe is not only unfitting but could even be taken as offense. A ball like this is politics and you as our ward will have to make a good appearance. I appreciate that you let me know about your physical tendencies to cause unrest, but my personal favourites have all been taken away. You need a dress, Opeila."
Opeila sighed. "I know I need a dress. What were the second choice ones? Maybe I'll find one among thos-" "No, absolutely not. Those have been casted out for a reason. If you're not making a choice, I am. This, see? No wide dress, no fragile materials. This is the furthest I am willing to go, so this is either a yes or I'm bringing the others back in." The blue eyes seemed to stare right through Opeila as she examined the dress. This was still nothing she would normally wear, but better than the others for sure.
"Alright then. I'm taking that one.", the Slytherin hesitantly agreed. "Good, moving on to the shoes then. I had these in mind." Expecting the worst Opeila looked at the shoes Lady Virtanen had picked. Her eyes widened surprised. They were white, decorated with gem stones and... flat.
"No heels.", Opeila said surprised. Lady Virtanen's reaction could as well have been Opeila' grandmother's. "Heels? Dear god, child, how old are you, eleven? You have time for heels when you are twenty, your feet aren't even full grown. Alright, if this is all then go and look for Lysander, I have work to do."
Within seconds, Opeila had been sent out of the room and stood in a corridor.
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════July 9th
Opeila was lying in her bed. The small thought that had been but a small worry in the background had managed to quickly grow into a full problem in need of solving. The little Slytherin was turning from one side to the other, finding no rest. Today had been once more nervewrecking. Lady Virtanen had insisted that Opeila changed her haircolour from this 'vulgar' tone, at least for the ball and so she had spent a long time trying out multiple haircolours on Opeila, convincing the young girl that the woman was either in dire need of a woman's day or had not played with dolls enough when she was small. Or was she just using the opportunity to well... pretty much have a daughter?
Eventually Opeila got put of her bed and left her room. Quietly she walked down the corridor and knocked on a different door. The muffled "Come in" came back in a split second and Opeila entered. Lysander was sitting at his desk over a piece of parchment that he quickly folded when the girl came in. "Opeila, what is it?", he asked, first surprised but then a look of realization appeared on his face and he fully turned to her. "Nervous?" Hesitantly Opeila nodded. "Sit down. Wanna tell me about it?"
The Slytherin walked over to her step-brother's bed and climbed onto it, crossing her legs. "What do I do when somebody realizes that I am a halfblood? There will probably be classmates from Hogwarts at that ball, what do I do when they notice?" Lysander didn't answer for a while, instead he looked at her, seemingly in thoughts. "You see what the problem is? I can't possib-" I don't know what you mean."
Opeila opened her mouth and closed it again. "What do you mean? That is a problem, isn't it? What would I say if-" Lysander smiled and shook his head. "I think a mistake has been made, sorry." Slowly Opeila got irritated. "No. Lysander, there hasn't. I am not a pureblood like everyone else there." The darkhaired man looked at her with more intensity. "No, I am very sure that you are mistaken." "God, you are not helping at all, you- Oh."
Now she understood. Lysander had been demonstrating what he wanted her to do. This was possible, she could certainly play pretend. Opeila grabbed a pillow and threw it at Lysander. "Could you not confuse me so much at... 1 am in the morning?"
Lysander's expression dropped. "1 am? Really? Alright, that's bad, Opeila, go to bed, I'll do the same. We need to be well rested tomorrow, both of us."
And once more Opeila was shooed away, but this time with a much better feeling.
