Gala of Mysteries Fall Ball

Mathias watched as Winnie knelt before the fox with a strained attempt at a smile, her blue eyes widening as the creature tugged the ring from her finger. Her fingers brushed the fox’s fur with a desperation that almost made him laugh. She might have been able to convince herself that she had two years left, that she’d find some way to escape this fate. But her wavering voice and trembling hands told another story, a silent plea she couldn’t mask.

And then the fox—Jack, not that he would know that for certain in the moment—darted away, the ring gleaming between its jaws. This was one of those delicious moments that even he could not predict, but he could hope for. A thief in plain sight. Harassers standing between the pureblood and his pedestrian lady love. None would be foolish enough to mistake an animagus, most of which clearly registered, for an actual unhindered fox allowed onto the dancefloor. The thievery obvious and in the open. The losses tangible. The gasps and murmurs of the crowd swelled around them, amused, startled, but none daring to intervene. Mathias leaned back, taking it all in, allowing the chaos to bloom and ripple around him as his gaze trailed the fox’s retreat. Everything was unfolding exactly as it should, the spectacle of their engagement already woven into rumors that would last weeks.

“Oh, Winnie,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice low, just for her. “No need to worry about a stolen ring. We’ll replace it. No matter how many stand between our love” His words were sweet, his tone almost tender, but the undertone of his promise held a chill. It was the sort of chill that came from knowing every move, every outcome, and letting it play out regardless of who got hurt. She could struggle, clutch at small comforts, make deals with foxes if she wanted even if he had no idea how she summoned the animagi's assistance. None of it would change what she was to him—a creature so ideal in her simplicity, her malleability, a half-blood princess in need of her prince.

Her trembling attempts at laughter, her stammered excuses about “waiting until graduation”—he could taste the dread buried beneath them. That was what made it beautiful. Winnie was finally beginning to see her role in this story, a role from which there was no escape. Her fate wasn’t some fairy tale romance; it was a tapestry of inevitability, woven by his hand, where she would forever play the part of the princess trapped in her gilded cage.

The fox, the friends watching silently from the crowd—they could skitter and chatter as much as they liked. But he was the one holding the threads. Let them try to pry her away, to shield her from what he’d already set in motion. Let them take their little stands, thinking themselves brave or clever.

But in the end, she would say “yes,” over and over, no matter who dared to oppose him. This public display, this chaotic ripple in the Great Hall—it was only the beginning, and he couldn’t wait to watch as every one of them fell in line. So Mathias would watch the fox disappear into the crowd, its clever eyes glinting in mock defiance. Jack Burnett, for all his fox tricks and borrowed guile, thought he could undo the inevitable with a single bite, a single trick. It amused Mathias to watch him try—this wild creature in boy’s clothing, scurrying through the hall, thinking himself a hero for yanking a ring off a terrified girl’s finger. Jack might think himself clever, might even think he posed a real threat, but he was still bound to the rules of the game Mathias had set in motion.

The fox could laugh, could scurry, could drop the ring into the waiting jaws of an ally, but that wouldn’t change a thing. It only made the spectacle more delicious. Mathias had expected pushback, expected this spark of chaos to fuel itself into a wildfire, and Jack was happy to provide the spark. The fox-boy could try his best to charm those around him with a wink and a clever grin. Let him try.

As Jack reappeared in his usual form, clad in a fedora pulled low as if he thought himself a mysterious film noir lead, Mathias observed from a distance, letting his own satisfaction simmer under his calm exterior. Every display Jack put on only played into Mathias’ hand, drawing attention to himself, making this tangled web all the more public. And it was a web Jack himself couldn’t escape—he’d already wrapped himself up in it with his incessant meddling, his foolish sense of chivalry. "Hey, our ring racist," Mathias demanded loudly. The statement intended to bring with it an accusation, that he stole the ring in some meager attempt to harass the loving duo from different worlds - muggle and wizard.

Jack could rally whomever he liked, whisper plans to Hanako or seek out others who harbored illusions of resistance but that only created the very scene he wanted. When it came down to it, Jack was as alone in this as anyone else who dared to oppose Mathias Pride. And Mathias? He had all the time and patience to watch his game unfold exactly as he wanted, with or without that ring.

After all, rings could be replaced. He had the pocket change for such extravagances. But Winnie’s loyalty, her fearful acceptance, the crowd that saw this uncanny display or thievery on what should be a celebrated moment now framed as an act of aggression against mixing bloodlines—those were things he had claimed beyond reach of any fox’s jaws.

Mathias observed Evelynn’s approach with an almost bored expression, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as she wove her way through the crowd with determined grace. Her words, sharp with a veneer of politeness, were no less satisfying for their bitterness. In fact, her disapproval only heightened his enjoyment of the moment.

He returned her gaze, feigning innocence. "Evelynn," he greeted with a cordial nod, his tone dripping with an almost mocking charm. It was amazing he remembered her name, he actually had little interest in women beyond Winnie but Evelynn was a standout on the Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Oddly enough, he was a bit of a fan. "I’m glad to see you approve of the timing. I could hardly wait, after all, to make sure everyone was included in this… special moment."

Evelynn’s attempt to sow seeds of delay and doubt was almost too transparent. Did she really think she could unravel his plans with vague suggestions about logistics and waitlists? The truth was, he didn’t care about the technicalities of a ceremony or a formal wedding—only the promise, the binding, was essential. The rest would fall into place, or it wouldn’t. Either way, Winnie was bound to him now, whether she realized it or not. This was a game he had already won.

He flashed her a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “As for the family, they will see the wisdom in securing a beneficial connection. And Winnie is already well aware that, when it comes to timing, she need only follow my lead. It’s actually a relief, I’m sure, that we won’t have to worry about tedious distractions like career planning or O.W.L.s clouding our shared path.”

He cast a quick glance at Winnie, her pale expression wavering under Evelynn’s persistent questions, before turning back to Evelynn with a slight tilt of his head. "And as for the prestige—well, isn’t that the beauty of it?” He leaned in, lowering his voice just enough to make it clear this was as much a taunt as a confidence. “It’s not just about lineage or heritage. It’s about creating something… new.”

His words lingered between them, a thinly veiled reminder that he had carefully crafted this moment for maximum effect. Let her try to salvage her friend, to pull Winnie from the web he had woven so delicately around her. She was welcome to try. But there were too many threads, each tied tighter than the last, each choice carefully engineered to force Winnie deeper into his world.

With a final, almost patronizing nod, Mathias straightened, his arm slipping possessively around Winnie’s waist. “I hope you’ll be there to support her,” he said smoothly, eyes glinting with a dark satisfaction, “when she needs it most. After all, a good friend is invaluable in times of transition.” If Evelynn did not know bits of truth, the parts Winnie had recently come to realize, then perhaps he would seem the romantic. The ever-confident young Slytherin.

The never-ending procession trudged onward.

Mathias barely masked his amusement as Hanako Tone made his way over, exclaiming loud enough to draw every nearby pair of eyes. The dramatic entrance, the devastated expression, the anguish etched across his face—it was as close to theater as Hogwarts would see, and Mathias couldn’t help but savor it.

“Hanako,” he replied, feigning the same exasperation, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. He placed a hand over his heart, his own expression turning solemn, almost wistful. “Believe me, I wanted to spare you this pain. But we were never meant to be public, were we?” He allowed his voice to tremble just enough to add a touch of melodrama. “Our secret, fleeting… special in a way she’ll" Winnie "never understand. I left you for her a long time ago and you will have to come to terms with that.”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice for Hanako alone, though loud enough for others to overhear if they strained. “But you’re right. Perhaps I was selfish, keeping you in the shadows.” He let his voice drop, the tone dripping with faux regret as he gestured meaningfully to the place where there should have been a ring on Winnie’s finger had his snake not stolen it. “It’s just… you and I had such an unconventional connection. I just could not muster the lust I once had for you when you insisted on dressing up as a stuffed animal," the term was furry. "But I knew she’d never survive knowing the whole of who I was before she made me a better man.”

His gaze shifted around the crowd, each person riveted by the spectacle unfolding before them. He glanced back at Hanako, offering him an indulgent smirk before continuing, his voice barely concealing the mockery underneath. “You and I know the truth,” he added with a sigh. “But sometimes, sacrifice is the price we pay for growth and to find lasting love.”

With a final, almost reverent nod, he reached out, resting a hand on Hanako’s shoulder. “I’ll always cherish what we had,” he said in a hushed tone, voice full of empty sweetness has his grip tightened beyond what one would expect for a man with only 3 strength suggesting without words that most of what others knew was truly a lie. “You’ll understand one day, I’m sure.”

And, casting one last smirk, he turned back to Winnie, smug satisfaction radiating from him as the whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. So many white nights wearing tarnished and battered armor.

Mathias shifted his gaze to Percival, the usual amused glint in his eye sharpening as he took in the familiar, steely glare of his rival. He could feel Percival’s simmering disdain, his obvious disapproval practically palpable. The boy had a way of demanding answers, of positioning himself as some arbiter of morality and reason, especially when it came to Winnie. Predictable.

He knew that Percival was in love, perhaps lust with Winnie and he hated it. Indeed, there were real emotions mingled with the cruel game he had played these past years that left even the ever-confident monster confused. In truth, he only considered Percival to be a threat.

He let a small, patient smile pull at the corner of his lips. "Gray," he greeted, voice smooth as silk. “Is that concern I hear in your voice? I must admit, it’s almost heartwarming to know you care so deeply.” He tilted his head slightly, as though pondering the irony. “But forgive me if I say it isn’t quite your place, is it?”

Mathias cast a brief, lingering look at Winnie, who seemed to shrink a little under his gaze, her expression shadowed with uncertainty. And why shouldn’t she feel uncertain? She’d agreed to an engagement in front of the entire school—a choice she could hardly take back now, no matter who swooped in to protect her. Not even Percival fucking Gray.

“Oh, Winnie’s fine,” he continued, his voice honeyed, almost patronizing. “The engagement was sudden, of course. Perhaps a little overwhelming for her delicate sensibilities.” The ever gentle, flowery girl had done an excellent job these years portraying herself as a princess, as something to be cherished rather than manhandled. Diminishing her capacity in the eyes of others he felt. His eyes narrowed slightly as they flicked back to Percival, the mockery in his tone hard to miss. “I’m sure you’d agree that life doesn’t wait for us to catch up. Especially when we’re moving forward.”

Percival’s cat fixed its gaze on him, unblinking. But Mathias didn’t waver. Instead, he leaned just slightly closer, his smile widening ever so subtly. “You’re right, though. It does involve me. After all, someone had to take the next step with Winnie here.” He let his words settle, enjoying the tension. “She deserves to know where she stands, don’t you think?”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he turned to Evelynn with a light, condescending chuckle. “And you, Evelynn—so nice to see you’ve joined the party. Though I didn’t realize you’d need a troupe to keep tabs on your friend.” His gaze flicked dismissively between her and Percival before settling back on Gray. "I do hope this clears things up, but by all means, stay. The more the merrier.” He hoped that Percival slugged him then and there, he would wear that shiner as a badge of honor and would only hope that would be the image in the papers - pureblood attacked for declaring his love to halfblood girlfriend.

And with that, he gave a small, almost mocking bow, as though he’d just finished performing a piece solely for their benefit. Let them watch, let them simmer. This was his stage, and he intended to use every minute of it.

Mathias watched the flurry of Winnie's desperate attempts, her nervous laughter at Hanako’s absurd theatrics, her trembling grip on Evelynn’s arm, and now her hand clutching onto Percival as if he could shield her from this fate. She was pulling her friends closer like lifeboats in a storm, but it was no use; every last one of them was sinking.

He allowed himself a slow, calculated smile, his gaze never leaving her panicked face even as she tried to gloss over her blunder about family permissions and muggle weddings. She truly thought obstacles like money, tradition, or her father’s disapproval might give her an escape. It was charming, really.

“Winnie,” he murmured, his tone soft but with an edge that sent a chill down her spine. He stepped closer, ignoring the silent glares from Evelynn and Percival. “Let’s not worry about castles or waitlists, shall we? You’ll have a wedding you couldn’t have dreamed up yourself. The most prestigious estates, guest lists filled with the highest-ranking magical names, and every last detail in place. There’s no need to wait for anything; not with our resources.” He was not an Athantos in name, but he was one by blood and with that came an infusion of resources, especially fiscal.

He turned to Percival, his gaze narrowing as he took in the Slytherin’s calm demeanor, his so-called “concern.” The annoyance at having his rival circle closer was brief—Evelynn, Percival, Hanako, all of them were gnats, unthreatening distractions that only made this moment sweeter. “Percival,” he said with a thin smile, “I’m glad you’re here to congratulate us. A friend’s support is invaluable, don’t you think?” The underlying mockery in his voice was unmistakable. Percival might think himself some quiet protector, but he was just another witness. Another pawn.

Mathias turned his attention back to Winnie, whose fingers still trembled around Percival’s arm. “And as for your family,” he continued smoothly, ignoring her fleeting attempts to distract him with the fox’s theft. “I’ll be making an introduction soon enough. Trust me when I say, they’ll come to see this engagement as not only acceptable but essential.”

The lights went out suddenly, and he could feel Winnie’s fear in the darkness as she gasped, her hand clutching desperately at Percival’s. A small smile tugged at his lips. She’d been trying so hard to hide her real emotions, and here they were laid bare in the dark. A could feel a flicker of anger rise within him. Jealousy

Leaning in close, he whispered, “There’s no need to be afraid, my dear. I promised to take care of everything, didn’t I? All you need to do is follow my lead.” She was holding the wrong man, perhaps he realized just now.

As the lights flickered back on, Mathias straightened, his expression one of utter calm, a stark contrast to the tension surrounding him. His hand reached out, gently attempting to pry her fingers from Percival’s arm and pulling her back to his side. “Now, shall we continue enjoying our evening? After all, this is a celebration.” He shot a final, satisfied glance at her friends. They could posture and protest all they liked. He’d already won. "And besides, weren't we" as in some of them "supposed to participate in a game" he was referring to the murder mystery.

Hopefully Percivcal was not with them, he internally hoped as he looked towards the game area.

"I expect my ring to be returned to Winnie's hand" he called out loudly as he attempted to walk towards the game room.

Aamon couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at Xiomara’s enthusiasm, her eyes shining as she captured every little moment in the hall with her camera. There was something so rare, so genuine, in how she saw the world that he felt almost unworthy to witness it. She hadn’t even noticed his own smile fading as she clicked away, completely oblivious to the darkness weaving itself in the edges of the night. For a moment even Aamon forgot about his worries.

She thought Mathias’s proposal was cute. That it was sweet. But Aamon knew better, and seeing his brother down on one knee didn’t stir anything close to admiration or respect in him. He hated watching Mathias wind his strings tighter around people, playing with them for his own gain, and if the pink lady was his latest prize… Aamon shuddered, glancing over at Xiomara, feeling a deep need to protect her. She had no idea how much she needed to stay clear of his family, of people like Mathias.

It was too late for the pink lady. The pink lady, better known as Winnie Harper had unknowingly or perhaps subconsciously looked the part of the bride rather than the princess, in perfect timing with Mathias' proposal. He knew that Mathias had actual feelings for her, because his eyes never strayed. But Mathias did not know how to love. He did not know love, not really. Aamon had been more fortunate than his older brother. While neither of their births were the product of love or even lust, rather utility, he had the benefit of his eldest brother whom did truly care for him. Mathias grew up in another house, raised by his ambitious birth mother who saw Mathias more as a tool to ascend in the family ranks as her progeny showed promise. He had the good fortune of being raised by an absentee father, an indifferent stepmother, paid servants and a loving brother. That is until his brother died but was never mourned. He came back a day later after a hasty burial, but he came back wrong. While this tie might have frayed, he had an advantage the rest of his family did not. He could express his sentiments, he had ambition of course but his ambitions did not mirror those of his contemporaries. It was not for wealth or status within the family, he wanted something so much more valuable.

“That fox… and the couple you’re snapping pictures of,” he said carefully, his voice low and cautious, “they’re not quite what you’d think, Xiomara.” He softened a little, glancing around as he leaned in. “Hogwarts is strange, sure. You’re right about that. But there’s a lot more to some of the people here than just… schoolyard pranks and proposal theatrics.”

He managed a smile despite his unease. "I know you’re excited for the story, and it’ll make for great photos for the Headliner, I’m sure.” He paused, glancing at the couple in question. “But just… steer clear of Mathias." The redhead who had just proposed to the other ginger. "And anyone who seems too close to him. The Pride family is an ambitious family that comes from old, squandered wealth and a thin thread of prestige due to their pure lineage and...” The words felt blunt, even harsh, but he couldn’t bring himself to ease up. "They have some unsavory connections with dark creatures and they will break everything in their path to make their way to the top," he warned, his voice quavering as a secret refused to pass over his tongue. It couldn't, some secrets were locked away bny more than will.

“Stick with me, okay?” He looked down at her, letting his nervousness break for a moment into a soft grin to lighten the darkening mood. “I just want you safe. And some people here… well, it’s best to keep a safe distance.” Maybe dance, he thought.

With her around, he almost forgot the family name looming over him and everything it demanded. Here, with her, it didn’t feel like he had to play by anyone’s rules but his own. "Dance, maybe?" He extended his hand.

Aston nervously got ready for the ball in his room, tying his tie and straightening his jacket. He's wearing that same black jacket he wore for the mistletoe spin back at summer camp, just with a black fedora this time. He gave Rosales a pat on the head before leaving for the Great Hall, excited to meet up with his friends. This is still one of his first balls, and the first one he has had at Hogwarts, the ones last year he didn't attend, but this one would surely be a great time. Despite the reputation these Hogwarts ball hold.

When he stepped in he was quickly enamoured with the way the great hall was decorated, the ball planners really did a lot with this one. The decorations made it look like a competently different hall! The horror atmosphere was done amazingly, fitting exactly with the theme of the ball. Aston didn't let himself get distracted for too long though, he had people to find! Alex and Kenzie should be here already if he remembered correctly. Aston walked around the hall, luckily for him it didn't take too long to find Kenzie. She was standing against the wall, bobbing her head to the music in the hall. "Hey Kenzie! Sorry I'm a bit late, I wanted to look good for the ball. This is only my second one, first if you don't count that mistletoe spin we did at camp. Did Alex go with her date or something?" Frankly Aston didn't know if Alex even had a date, but that does seem like the most logical guess. She and Prat have something going on that's for sure.

Word Count 278/200

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Hans smirked at the Seeker, the most a boy usually all-grins could manage these days. At least Astrid’s darkly droll humour never failed to lighten him when the entire castle’s glumness was a suffocating hand smothered against his lips. He was relieved to find the smile, however small it may be or with however sad eyes, Astrid had returned, the action he had once taken for granted now as much of a miracle as anything. His coffee eyes sparkled a little at the girl’s words, but sadly the profanity did not cut his newfound hatred for the event he had longed to attend only days before. Durmstrang’s, though cold, familiarity was an environment he longed to return to. “Yeah, this school is shit. I mean the attack wasn’t their fault, I get that, but this ball is just straight up inconsiderate. Why are we supposed celebrating? Why are we pretending to get murdered in some stupid game when actual people have died? They need to realise this isn't make believe anymore.”

Hans drew in a breath in an attempt to steady himself and mustered up some positivity, if not for his sake than Astrid’s at least. Not that the food looked particularly enticing, but irresponsibility was so abundant among the school that even such simple things could not have been enjoyed. Pathetically, paranoia hung heavily in the air. “Don’t worry, Hogwarts is far too pretentious for snacks as mundane as a candy bar. I brought this from home,” he attempted to reassure with some signature sarcasm that even then, felt empty. The scowl that had crept across his face at the mention of spiked drinks and poisoned food was not particularly helping. “Have it,” he insisted once more, “at least it will make me feel better.” That was no white lie. Any support he could offer would be another wave eroding away at his guilt. It would never be enough, but it was a step away from the nights withering away staring at the miserable ceiling. At least it was something.

Turning to catch the silhouette of two familiar figures, the boy wondered if he should have been relieved or concerned at their entrance, especially for the smaller of the duo. Hans offered a brisk nod of acknowledgement at Valentin’s silent greeting, but his gaze lingered on Nikolai as they shared the barest of eye contact, a sight he had grown to be all too familiar with from their first meeting. His aversion was not a product of avoidance as it used to be, while Hans understood his brother, shrapnel still lodged itself inside his heart. This time, he would not push it further; those powerful eyes spoke enough where words failed. Hans found himself unable to offer any consolation, for the belief that everything could turn for the better would only come out as cheap and insensitive. Give yourself time, he seemed to have said, and when you’re ready, I’ll be here. These past nights he too had been unsleeping as Nikolai poured over the fustanella, rarely speaking but thoughts churning with every stitch.

That second night at Hogwarts had been a particularly fateful one. Having tried every damn method in the book to lull himself into rest and still finding himself staring up at the ceiling, the normally sound sleeper gave up on the idea entirely. Stuck listlessly in a vortex of exhaustion and restlessness, forcing himself to close his eyes had been a losing battle. God was the last resort he would ever consult, but after years of saying half-hearted graces, the self-proclaimed atheist had turned his sleepless eyes towards the heavens. Omnipotent, they call Him. Omnibenevolent even. Hans wished He would act that way sometimes as he sent internal prayers to the Deity for the first time. And when the first hadn’t seemed to suffice, he sent one more, and one after that, just for good measure.

Seeing Nikolai as devastated as he was hurt more than not seeing him at all, and his inability to do anything only taunted Hans further. The bombing had left everyone empty, but him especially, the vibrant personality of his fragilely glassed in a manner Hans dared not touch. The boy forced himself to tear his vision away, blinking as he tried to dispel a pesky uncertainness. Nikolai would be fine. Definitely.

C’mon, breathe, his rationality commanded, keep your head up and smile through it, convince yourself you’re happy and you want to be here. Like you always do. They were things he would have said to himself. They were things he used to have said to himself when he wished to be anywhere but a party. They were things that had always worked, at least for the time being. Was that all he knew how to do? Put on a guise hiding all vulnerability only for those who had trusted him to find out he could not live up to all that he had displayed? Perhaps it painted him in a flattering light, but like any other sweet-talk, it would have been based on untrue claims; what good would it do him? If such acts were the extent of his capability, there would be an awfully small amount of things he was capable of once the charade was stripped away.

Hilflos, nutzlos, wertlos, were words that came to mind instead. Helpless, useless, worthless. Anger, bitterness, sorrow, remorse, all feelings they shared, all feelings Hans once thought he could comprehend, could outsmart, could evade. Then again, they were mostly only words he knew on paper anyway. Lately, the situation had been so out of his control the definitions of the words he thought he knew had been toppled and flipped overturned. Out of his control, like sand slipping out of his fists, the harder he clenches, the more he loses. Such a pleasant analogy: the harder he tries, the more he fails. What use was what use was magic he was so hellbent on studying if they weren’t there to end suffering? Why can’t magic ever be enough to fix everything? All he ever wanted to do was more, and now he couldn’t even help his brother more.

“Astrid,” asking for advice, Hans paused as his Russian failed him - or perhaps it was simply something beyond the expression of words, “How would you help someone… in pain?” He was only asking because he didn’t want to do something he thought was right that turned out to be wrong again.

@Anastasia Blackwood-Varney as Astrid Olsen

]Sta: 8 | Eva: 10 | Str: 5 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 2 | Acc: 10 | Fearless | Charmer

Charmer affects everyone but Nikolai Vol'ka, Valentin Schnell, Johannes Sauer, Felix Kolbeck, Greta Fransson, and Astrid Olsen

Role-playing as Luka Antonov - Durmstrang iNPC

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Mentioning: @Aston Beckett & @Kenzie Thatcher Location: Hogwarts - Great Hall Area Date: October 19th

Speech: English: #7e1635 | Russian: #3e2169 Thoughts: Italics Outfit: ☆

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Ten minutes then I'll leave, Luka told himself as he stood nervously at the entrance of the Great Hall. Social events had never really been his thing. Hell, anything with the word "social" in it wasn't his thing, but he'd told himself he would give it a chance. Staring emotionlessly into the large crowd of students he sighed and ran a hand through his somewhat styled blond hair. "Just go..." he whispered to himself, resting his hand on the wall next to him, tapping his fingers nervously against the cold stone.

Minutes slip by as he stood there, his anxiety keeping him back every time he thought about just walking in. His moms had convinced him that he needed to experience the ball because it was a great opportunity to meet new people. But of course, Luka had no interest in meeting new people so he compromised and decided to go, but only for ten minutes. "Go," he repeated to himself, "Get it over with." He let his hand fall from the wall as he shook his head.

One... Two... Three... Fuck it.

Once inside the Great Hall, he realized he'd underestimated exactly how many people there were. It was a quite large room and about 75% of it appeared occupied by people who were talking with friends, dancing, or eating the different snacks on the tables. Luka decided to make his way over to one of the tables with only a few people around it. He inspected the food on the table before determining it wasn't worth his time, It's Hogwarts food, of course, it all looks repulsive. The blond guy sighed and glanced at his watch, two minutes had passed. He ran his hand through his hair again, feeling his anxiety grow as he looked around at all the people he didn't know who seemed to be getting closer and the noises becoming deafening.

Luka clasped his hands together and brought them up to his chest, wishing he could just disappear as the voices from the crowds got louder and louder. People walked past him in groups, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. He could feel his heartbeat quicken. Out. Get out. He picked at the skin around his nails while glancing around for a way out.

His gaze finally fell on a break in the crowd near the door to the Hall. He looked down at his watch again, six minutes is better than none. Luka walked hurriedly through the crowd towards the doorway. He mumbled barely audible apologies as he bumped into people in his attempt at an escape. He could feel his chest tightening as it gets harder to breathe. He walks in between a blonde girl and a dark-haired boy, shoving past them. "Move," he muttered in his native tongue, knowing and not caring that they likely couldn't understand him.

When he eventually got past the crowd and out of the Great Hall he made it halfway down the corridor before collapsing against the wall. He clawed at his tie and undid the button of his shirt collar, trying to get free of the suffocating feeling the crowd of people caused. Luka sat against the cold stone wall on the even colder stone floor of the Hogwarts castle, resting his arms on his knees and hiding his face in his hands, trying to steady his breathing. "Fucking Hogwarts..." he spat in English as he leaned his head back against the wall, his blond hair falling in his face, looking an absolute mess.

Date | 19th October 2024

Open to Interactions

There was an invisible tightness around her chest, one that was holding tighter than she'd imagined until Tes eased some of her worries with her reassuring words. Sure, Meyra felt it ease, but not to a point that she was now feeling safe and relieved. She didn't know Tes, how to weigh her words, how much was true and how much she could break under pressure. And with the later events, there was no lack of pressure inside that school. Starting from the night Professor Iwasaki made his revelation, how she saw others react to it, how she saw how Tes was treated by those Ravenclaws... condescension, lack of empathy. And now...a terrorist attack at Hogsmeade that had taken the lives of so many, all in the name of intolerance and racism. Meyra was young, but she hadn't needed her mother's words to know that it was important to remain unnoticed, without drawing attention to her current condition. She didn't know, however, which was a heavier blow, the fact that she now had to live with that curse, or the fact that she had to swallow her pride and continue hiding who she was, or part of who she was. Especially in front of some of her peers who had the courage not to hide, to defend their own, to defend their kin. But it was still very confusing for the young girl the reality of who she really was now. Not even all of her family members knew what happened to her and Jun during that night, and she also had a feeling that most of them wouldn't react in the kindest way when the time came to find out. "I'm sorry Tes," She ended up saying in a low tone of voice so only those around her could hear, "I'm sorry I...I didn't helped. You know...when professor Iwasaki spoke to us. I'm not sure I'm ready..." She quickly looked around them, making sure no one else was listening and cleared her throat before looking at Tes again, "I'm not sure it's smart to let them know." She finished with a firm tone of voice.

It disappointed her even more knowing that she wouldn't be able to swallow all those worries with one of those sweets and treats. Her green eyes looked languidly at the table and all the delicious food,"I should have eaten something before coming here..." She thought with a sigh. Another feeling that Tes mitigated with the grimace she made after taking a bite of her jelly. But maybe the food wasn't so delicious after all...another sigh.

"Say what?" Meyra turned to Colin, who mentioned the use of forgetfulness and love potions, those being famous for spicing things up around these events. She couldn't believe he was telling them the actual truth about it, it sounded so excessive. Although, come to think of it, if she ever took a love potion, she would certainly be looking for a forgetfulness potion to drink immediately afterwards! Her eyes followed Colin's own gaze and found a red-haired boy. Who the hell was he? And why was Colin looking at him when he specifically mentioned those potions? Was he planning something with the other boy?

The train of thoughts that led her to squint at Colin was only interrupted by his exchange of words with the beautiful brunette with icy blue eyes. She seemed to be dismissing all Colin's bad omens and somehow that made Mey feel even more suspicious about him. Was he only trying to scare them? That doubt and the way he smirked and looked at the older girl when she suggested he find someone pretty to dance with, and his words that followed: "Maybe! We can dance later! After the place burns down!" made Meyra feel an almost uncontrollable urge to throw some of that inedible jelly on his head. Instead, she just rolled her eyes in an imperceptible way before sharing a look with Jun and whispering close to her ear, "Maybe we should bring him trouble in the form of those cupcakes." She mischievously suggested, knowing full well they wouldn't do it, but couldn't continue to entertain the idea and keep it in her thoughts alone.

It was then that she saw an older boy dressed in a gray attire approach the dark-haired girl. They seemed to know each other and were soon heading towards the dance floor. "And that's how you do it!" She said, casting a mocking look at Colin and gesturing with her hand towards the couple who were now beginning to dance.

As soon as she made her cheeky comment, someone's name was shouted drawing her attention to the newly engaged couple again. Meyra felt like she was watching one of her mother's novels play out in real life, as the lover, the betrothed and the bride exchanged words of broken hearts and hurt feelings. Meyra watched the interactions with the attention of a very expectant spectator, waiting to see how everything would end. That was, until she began to notice the mist that began to swirl around the room, which had intensified to the point of extinguishing all sources of light.

Her magic lantern provided her with some light, but that didn't stop her from slightly bumping into someone. Meyra turned around, to see an auburn-haired girl dressed in a very elegant dress. She could tell with just one look, even as the warm light from her magic lantern cast shadows over the other girl's features, that the girl belonged to the highest magical society. A pureblood draped in one of her well-designed outfits that was probably worth a fortune. Beautiful, yet...her words blurred the perfect painting she was portraying. As if a luxurious gift box had been opened and a horrible creature had emerged from it. Meyra first glared at her, showing her displeasure. Then slowly, her expression changed to a perfectly smug, dismissive smile, as Mey looked away as if the girl was the most uninteresting thing that had appeared in front of her. She would have to try harder if the idea was to appear superior, clearly she didn't know who she was talking to.

Her hazel eyes focused then, in following the swilling darkness, which at times seemed to take on a conscientious form that caressed the ceiling and walls as if eager for something. Maybe it was just hunting the lights wanting to own the entire place. Unsure of what was happening and with Colin's and Tes' words in the back of her mind, Meyra thought the right thing to do was staying close to the group of newly made acquaintances and Jun, she gave a step closer to her cousin, staying behind Tes and Colin and right beside Lucy. Trying hard to believe Tes was telling them the truth and they would not get hurt, despite their previous stories predict the exact opposite of it.

"So this stuff is...normal? I'll never understand you British people." Meyra heard Lucy say and couldn't help but softly laugh at the other girl's comment, "I think I heard my mom ask that once or twice!" She humoured in return, grinning at the American girl. But her smile faded as she began to notice that Lucy seemed to not be feeling alright, despite her lighthearted remark. "Are you okay?" Meyra asked with concern, being able to recognise the shadows in the other girl's eyes. "Well, I'm glad I'm with you if anything goes wrong. You look like you could handle it.", Lucy told Colin and Mey was glad that at least that thought seemed to give Lucy some confidence. Even if Mey herself didn't trust that statement at all.

As if encouraged by Lucy's confidence, Colin decided to act and tried to find a way to dispel the dark mist. Meyra saw him grab his wand and cast the Ventus spell. Unexpectedly, at least for the young Gryffindor, the wind blew from Colin's wand and threatened in a strong wave to steal her beret, forcing her to hold it so that it wouldn't fly off her head. At the same time, Mey protected her face with the arm that still held the magic lantern, peering over her forearm and Colin's shoulder.

Colin's wind had worked, no one could say it didn't, but, the chaos it had caused... Meyra bit her lower lip as she watched Colin's spell clear an area of ​​darkness as it continued to stretch its fingers in order to fight the spell that invaded its previously conquered space. Meyra saw and heard glass shattering falling from the tables, along side other decorations, creating a mess around them. "Was all of this really necessary?" She asked Colin, sighing as the music seemed to pick up a rhythm suitable for such turbulence.

But looking up, Meyra found the starry sky looking back at her and the moonlight fell on the room, giving the whole scenery a charming white-blue hue, as if they were just gathering outside. If not for the whole horror decorations, that had became even more realistic, as if a fight had took place there, Meyra thought it was a quite a romantic sight. Perhaps they would find a way to enjoy themselves, after all. Mey decided her lantern was no longer required, so she put it back into her enchanted satchel. "Okay, seems it was a false alarm!" She told the group smiling at them. "Should we head to the Mystery Murder thing?" She asked, but didn't wait for an answer before turning around while casting brief glances at the darkest places in the room, "See you later Tes? Lucy? I'll be back after the game, I'll find you two!" She promised as she started walking towards the place where the games would take place.

Actions: leaving the Great Hall to go to the Mystery Murder game. Trunk: Accio! Inventory: Enchanted Satchel | Ever-bashing Boomerang | Exploding bonbons | Dungbomb | Wizard Camera | Magic Lantern Race: Werewolf Stats: Stamina: 6| Evasion: 7| Stren. gth: 7| Wisdom: 3| Arcane Power: 0| Accuracy: 7

Interaction: @Jun Mayumi Mochizuki | @Minnie Duke | @Tesla Stone | @Colin McCoire | @Meiyu Xiang
Mentioning: @Winnie Harper |@Illowy Magnard | @Mathias Pride | @Hanako Tone |@Aaron Jones

@Winnie Harper @Mathias Pride
@Evelynn decipio @Hanako Tone

Attire: Clothing

He almost didn't see his fellow snape dormmate in the heat of the scene but he also seemed to take issue with the ginger. Hanako and Mathias must have had something in the past to say such words, almost as if they were close at some point or another. It was something Gray would have to question Han on later when he had the chance, as well as the location of that precious ring Mathias tried to use against Winnie to try and hold her down.

Gray didn't seem bothered by the look methodical look Matt gave him. There was nothing he could say that could make him be mentally one step ahead "Mathias..." Gray replied nonchalantly "I'm afraid it is, else I wouldn't have bothered to be here in the first place" Gray gave a brief look to Evelynn and Hanako to also see their concerns. If anything he was glad other people noticed Matt's madness, those who didn't were blind to what was going on in front of their eyes.

"Don't you think it's a little too early to get married?" Gray questioned with a raised brow "You have all the time in the world and you choose now? You either have no life or are desperately searching for one..." Gray muttered, a look of brief concern going to Winnie to show that it wasn't her fault. The whole thing creeped him out and it screamed possessive. She didn't deserve such an experience, nor did she deserve him.

It was true, Gray was tempted to thump him right there and then. However, there was no point in doing that when Winnie was already quite distressed and confused about the current situation. He'd have to pick his moment and knock some sense into the ginger when the time called for it. Cormac was the same, the only thing that was stopping the feline from scratching the ginger to shreds was his master's silence.

All he needed was to hear one word.

"You're right, a friend's support is invaluable. How about I talk to her parents first and give them a "shining" reference of what you're really like Mathias?" he said with a slight tilt of his head "Do you think they would allow you to marry their daughter after knowing how much of a-" When Gray was about to finish the lights suddenly went out "What in the-" Percy grunted as he immediately reached out to Winnie to keep her close. However, without realizing Winnie seemed to be doing the same. Grabbing each other's arms in unison, Gray slowly let go when he felt her touch and instead put a hand on hers to reassure her everything was alright "Don't worry about it Winnie, there's nothing to stress about" Then, as quick as it happened the lights came back on. Unfortuneately, he had not seen the stare Matt gave him nor the whisper she offered to Winnie.

Looking down, Mathias hand reached to Winnie to pry it off. The temptation to push the brat away was palpable, but as he mentioned before he had to buy his time. There was no point resorting to violence when there wasn't a reason for it. Briefly, he'd turn his head to Winnie and whispered something quickly before she was pulled away.

"Only ask, if you need us"

Percival said quietly in a caring tone as she was starting to get pulled away. He cared about her safety as much as her other friends, especially when that prick was with her. Hopefully, one day she'd see through that and find someone who treated her with respect.

Interacting: @Mathias Pride | @Jack Burnett | @Percival Gray | @Evelynn Decipio | @Hanako Tone

| Outfit: ✿

Mentioning:

English | Irish

It was all Winnie could do to force a tense smile on her lips as Mathias leaned in close to her once more. It was funny how she had once longed for his attention, how she would have given anything to have him whispering in her ear. Now she could only ignore the unsettled chill that ran through her. "I-Isn't that a special ring? Shouldn't we get it back?" Was it worth the trouble if Mathias didn't even care? Her finger felt a lot lighter without it anyways.

Her gaze locked onto the 'fox thief' as soon as the Slytherin spoke up. She took in his form with furrowed brows. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but he looked... So familiar. "Him? The redhead?" Like that was much of an identifier at Hogwarts, where the population was 70% redheaded.

"Why would he steal my ring? Is he someone you know?" She mostly asked herself, blue eyes flickering up to watch Mathias' face. He didn't seem angry about the theft at least. "Maybe he's someone I should know?" She asked pointedly, wondering if he was a friend long lost due to the excessive use of memory loss potion. Even if he were it wasn't like Matt would tell her the truth.

Upon hearing Mathias' words about their future careers and how OWLs would be unnecessary, Winnie felt her stomach drop as a wave of horror overtook her. "W-What do you mean by that?" She broke out of her facade to ask the Slytherin, "I need to take the OWLs, Mattie. You... You don't think I'm going to be a stay at home wife, do you?" She felt a wave of nausea slam into her as she tried to imagine her future as Mrs. Pride; long gone were days of freedom, spent with her hair billowing behind her as she soared through the sky on a broomstick. Her dreams of playing Quidditch professionally felt quietly brushed aside and dismissed as a mere 'distraction'. "W-What am I supposed to do all day? I'd get so bored!"

"Career planning and the OWLs are HEAVILY on my mind right now." He couldn't take that away from her. She was drawing the line here and now; he could pull the strings and dictate every other aspect of her life, but not her precious Quidditch time. "I'm going to play professionally!" She suddenly announced a bit too loudly, "Quidditch, I mean--" Oh Merlin, she was going to vomit, “I mean... What am I saying? That must be all in the plan, right, Mathias? Because I won’t give up everything I’ve worked for.”

The tension in her words hung around the pair, and she was terrified of his reaction, but part of her couldn't help but feel proud for pushing back. Quidditch was her dream, after all. He’d have to force it from her, thread by thread.

She had grabbed Percival out of instinct, but his warm hand and calming presence offered Winnie a moment of security, a flicker of resistance against the life Mathias had decided for her. He was the one person who felt safe. When he grabbed her back, she could only squeeze him tighter. Then that moment ended, sending her crashing back down to reality with the horrified realization that if Percival hadn't been on Mathias' radar before, he definitely want now.

"Only ask, if you need us"

Oh Percival, if only he knew just how much she needed them.

Her paled face shifting back to Mathias' direction, her stomach twisted as she saw a certain flicker in his eyes, despite the smile plastered onto his face. She felt her skin break into goosebumps, as though the room’s warmth had been sucked away in an instant, though she was too caught up to realize it was due to a student's wand. Her hat blew clean off her head from the force of the wind that blew through the Great Hall, but she hardly blinked. She tried to break eye contact with her 'fiancé' to look for it, but it was as if his gaze trapped her in place. The fear she’d felt in the darkness had morphed into something deeper, a tangible threat aside from the unknown of the dark.

"S-Sorry I... I thought I was grabbing you--" She desperately tried to explain her way out of it in a 'pay no attention to the man behind the curtain' kind of way. Her lip quivered, her body stiff as Matt's hands pried her away from Eve and Percival; her two lifelines.

She didn't want to go with him somewhere they might be alone, so she forced herself to grab onto Matt's arm and push her shaking form into his arms instead, "Wait... Please... I don't want to leave. There's s-something odd going on and the fox still has my ring. Mattie..." She swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed herself onto her tip toes. Even in high heels she could just manage to reach his ear. "There's no need to run out so quickly... You haven't even kissed me yet... You just asked me to marry you, where's my kiss?"

Mathias watched her squirm, a faint glint of amusement hidden in his eyes. Every flicker of hesitation, every stammered protest, every attempt she made to convince herself this was still her life—all of it was just an affirmation of his hold. The possessive streak in him relished the way she held tight to Percival one last time, the way she spoke about OWLs and Quidditch as though these little freedoms were things she could still protect. Little lies she was still telling herself when her heart already knew the truth. She didn’t seem to grasp that each struggle only wove her tighter into the web he’d built around her.

“Oh, Winnie,” he whispered with feigned affection, making no attempt to be unheard by onlookers, his gaze locking hers in place. “You’re so worked up about the future.” He tilted his head, voice dripping with gentle condescension. “There are so many possibilities waiting for you—for us. But being my wife… well, that’s hardly something that would leave you bored, don’t you think? How safe would our children be so high above the ground?” Many chjildren.

Her insistence on her exams and her career plans, her dream of becoming a professional Quidditch player, was almost quaint. She clung to these ideas as though they were what gave her life meaning, and in a way, he supposed they did. He let his smile soften, giving her a look of almost paternal indulgence. “I know you think those things matter, but there’s so much more waiting for you. Mother to a brood of our kind. The comfort, the status, the sort of life most people would dream of. You’ll have everything you could ever want.” Except freedom of course, but those words were left unsaid. Rather he let the last words spoken linger just slightly sharper.

When she brought up the ring and the fox again, a flicker of irritation passed through him, though he masked it well. The ring was nothing more than a symbol; it was her agreement, her public “yes,” that truly mattered. She was still clinging to these small, meaningless details, desperate to stay in a world where she had control. But he could see her desperation, her fear, her need for Percival’s fleeting comfort. He hated that. This primal jealousy sourced from something that he did not wholly understand. This want, maybe love for her that made her his. Love was not about possession, but to someone so estranged by the concept of true affection, it was all he truly understood.

Mathias’s gaze slid coolly over Percival, the bastard that could not leave him and his wife to be alone. A faint, mocking smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. So, Percival wanted to “help.” He wanted to reach out to Winnie’s family, to 'warn' them, even thought he might have a chance of convincing them he’d be any better suited to protect her than Mathias. It was laughable, really.

“Percival, always the noble one,” Mathias murmured, voice low and silken, taking in the boy’s familiar, self-righteous stance. “And how thoughtful of you to look out for Winnie.” His gaze lingered pointedly on their intertwined hands, his expression dripping with amusement. “But let’s be realistic, shall we? You can posture all you like, play at protector, but I’ve already claimed my place. And I don’t remember asking for your… approval. Don't you have someone in your life that could stand at your side after all these years?” He prodded at the empty space next to Percival that he felt, no knew, he wanted to fill with Winnie.

He could practically taste Percival’s anger simmering beneath the surface, so close to breaking free, but the boy had his boundaries—boundaries Mathias could work around with ease. “You’re welcome to reach out to her family, of course,” Mathias continued, as though sharing a private joke. “Well, mother at least," he pointed out. Not that he had met either parent, but she was a half-blood and the wizarding world keeps good records. Her father did not love her enough to stay. Another girl with daddy issues. "But do you really believe you could sway them?" The one he could find. "Money talks, Percival. Influence talks. And I’ve already ensured that any concerns her family might have can be… easily reassured.” The girl after these years would be little more than a distant acquaintance to her own family, her formative years being spent in a boarding school. The closeness they once had, if it ever existed, evaporated years ago.

Mathias let his eyes wander back to Winnie, who looked torn, her gaze flicking between the two of them. It was almost endearing, the way she was trying to shield her emotions, holding onto this flimsy hope that her friends could somehow help her. But she’d chosen him in front of everyone, and that single choice sealed her fate, whether she realized it yet or not.

Leaning in closer to Percival, Mathias lowered his voice so that only he could hear. “I’m sure you think you’re being helpful, but perhaps you should reconsider where you place your loyalty.” He straightened, casting a final look of satisfaction over the small circle that had formed. Each of them, every friend gathered in their concern, was just another witness to the inevitable—a reminder to Winnie that there was no way out. "As a Slytherin, you would think that you would have the good sense to pick the winning side."

He was going to leave, they had other places to be. Private places. They needed to celebrate their love. Passionately ideally.

And then she said it—the offer to stay, her voice faltering as she practically begged him to stay, to keep her close, to give her the public kiss that would seal her fate. He had to admit a sense of disappointment, he wanted more. But the bravado, the small attempts to resist, had finally broken, and now she was turning to him for that last, final moment of security. He was not able to resist the opportunity she offered him.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face as he lowered his head just slightly, letting his voice soften as though offering her a reassurance. “You’re right, darling. We have all the time in the world. And I wouldn’t want to rush anything… important.” He glanced at her friends, his gaze just predatory enough for them to catch his unspoken message, before returning his full attention to her.

As he leaned in, he let his lips brush her cheek, his breath warm against her skin. “But this is only the beginning,” he murmured, so softly that only she could hear. The message was clear: there was no running from him, no hiding from the life he had so carefully planned. His hand reaching for her jaw to turn her face to him, he leaned in for a long, slightly showboaty kiss. The sort intended to make those in the room mildly uncomfortable because it lasted a bit too long.

Hedeon entered the Ball with an intent for mischief. He knew the fog was lingering around the room, and he wore nothing but jeans and a t-shirt, with the exception of his wand in his hand.

He pictured a dagger, something akin to a dark one dagger, with its black handle and its jagged blade, the inside laced with a black trim. Unlike the dark one dagger, it had no text on it. He pointed his wand towards the surrounding fog and visualized the transition from the fog to a bunch of daggers, in where the concept transferring from condensation to a solid. "Pluviae Acuta." He said, knowing full well that the daggers cannot do anything unless animated, but unless he decided he would stay longer, he would probably animate the daggers. Not that he could, it was taught in seventh year, but that would've been something smart or cool to do.

So long as he wasn't busted.. hopefully. He slowly began to back up towards the wall, hoping he wasn't seen casting that spell. Maybe someone would pick up the dagger and use it against someone else and all attention would be on them, and therefore maybe some actual drama could happen. Maybe they could get suspended.

Action: Casting Smoke to Daggers spell

Sta: 10 | Eva: 15 | Str: 12 | Wis: 5 | Arc: 5 | Acc: 10