Gala of Mysteries Fall Ball

The Great Hall
October 19 2024
→ Wand - Magnifying Glass - Black Gloves
Interactions: Open

It had been a while since the green haired wix had participated at a school event, as the school years passed by they found themself steering away from crowds. It seemed that they were much better off having lonesome adventures, but refusing a noir and horror themed fall ball was definitely out of the picture. Jay took any chance they could to dress up in homemade extravagant outfits.

For this event, they were originally going to wear black and white colours but changed it up to adding deep reds. A plain vintage suit was deemed too boring by the green haired wixens taste, and so they spent hours of their time intricately sowing deep red beads all over their suit to mimick blood dripping. To match, they wore a layered pearl choker with red beads hanging and a long fluffy velvet coat. Wether the coat had belonged to a previous mafia member, Jay Victoria did not know nor did they wish to find out the history. Their earrings consisted of silver hands holding onto semi realistic red hearts, this accessory matched their coat belt which were large silver hands touching each other by the fingertips. The inner lining of their black porkpie hat had thin embroidered spiderweb designs which matched their steel toed boots that had the same design. As a rare stylistic choice for Jay, they decided to wear makeup and went for a simple clown look inspired by the 1920s. They carried black leather gloves and a magnifying glass in their coat pocket just in case a crime needed to be solved. However, considering Jay Victorias outfit it was hard to tell wether they were the strange but good detective or the mafia clown murderer in a noir film.

After heading over to the food to grab a sweet treat, they sat down at a empty circular table and watched the fog around the great hall. It was rather mesmerizing amongst the lighting and decor, the fall ball always failed to be disappointing. For the time being, the wixen ate their sweet gory red velvet cupcakes and waited for the hall to flood in with guests.

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__◇ IC Date: October 19th 2024

Speech: #1d5758 ◇ __

__◇ Thoughts: Italic	Mentions: @Swan Clark ◇__
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Walking in small, hesitant steps towards the Great Hall, the young Slytherin girl's heart thumped loudly, nervous about the upcoming event - it was, after all, her ver first Hogwarts Ball.

Elisa had heard rumours about the Hogwarts Balls, and it seemed, if she was not mistaken, that they all ended up with a couple pupils in the Hospital Wing. In fact, she would not have come at all if her best friend, Swan, hadn't insisted that they go together.

Speaking of her best friend - today was their friendship's one month anniversary! That had been a complete coincidence, but nonetheless the young girl felt that this ball was something of a celebration for the them. It was also something she took into consideration when accepting to come to the ball - it wasn't every day a ball landed on one's one month anniversary!

The fact that she hadn't been very keen to come, however, did not mean that she had come unprepared. For this special occasion, Elisa had changed into a dress that had once belonged to her great great aunt. It was at least a hundred years old, if not more. Upon receiving her daughter's letter about the upcoming ball, Elisa's mother had enchanted it to make it look newer and more fit for a young girl to wear. It did not entirely match the style of the 19s (rather more of a 18s style), as the hosts of the ball had recommended, but it was the closest garment Elisa found.

Matching with her dress, Elisa also wore a pair of white, satin gloves and black shoes. Her hair had been carefully put up in a half up half down style, with a black and white bow fastened to it.

Upon entering the great oak front doors of the Great Hall, Elisa raised a gloved hand to adjust it, feeling that it had slid off a little - again. Then, spotting, among the crowd of students her best friend Swan, Elisa quickened up her steps. Despite having left out a full hour to get ready before the ball, Elisa was only just in time, having taken way too long to do her hair. Catching Swan's gaze, she blushed a little, remembering her unusual attire.

"Hi Swan!", she said, looking around at the newly decorated Great Hall, "Happy one month anniversary for us!"

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◇ Action: Entering ball ◇
◇ Interactions: Closed (except Swan) ◇
sta-4 | eva-7 | str-3 | wis-9 | arc-8 | acc-9
Healing Sage

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Mentions: @Sanguinius Demarest

English | thoughts	Date: 16/10/2024
Outfit: Reducio	OOC Notes: Reducio Abilities: Sixth Sense code made by 𝑅𝑒𝓎&𝐿𝒾'𝓈 𝑅𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈

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Oh my. The Great Hall was unrecognisable. It felt like stepping into a movie, and Elena's eyes were wide open. Marveled, the blonde haired girl glanced at the food filled tables, with hints and references from the 1930s to the 1960s. A large checkerboard was used as a dancefloor, something that reminded her of a certain mistletoe ball back in august. Smiling at the memory, she reajusted her heavy black gown, and made her way to the buffet. Food first. She had been awaiting this ball for quite a while now. Evpraksyia had invited her to a little group with Novalie, a red head girl who was in her astronomy class and Alyss Gilmour, whom she had never met. The three girls had signed up for a mystery solving adventure, one the ravenclaw couldn't wait to live. Supposed to join them later, Elena had decided to wander in the ballroom first, officially to make encounters, unofficially to taste the delicious foods waiting to be eaten. Hoping to the buffet, she took a moment to analyse the different offers, before settling for a bloodied heart and a glass muffin. Really on theme, then. She had spent hours trying to figure out the perfect dress, and had settled for a black gothic gown, with a dark red corset and thin black lace. The off-the-shoulder neckline was complemented by a black choker with a red gem in the center. Letting her blonde waves cascade down her shoulders, she truly had the appearance of a vampires in those old movies. At lest she thought so. Taking the bloodied heart with her, she sat at a table and observed her surroundings. Lost in her thoughts, she watched a few people dance or interact, smiling when they laughed. Surprisingly, she didn't felt the familiar twist in her stomach that appeared whenever she was alone near a crowd. She took another bite of her cake - which was really good - and decided to go fetch that cherry drink she had spotted earlier. Rising from her seat, she made her way to the table, noticing odd marroon splatter decorating the floor. Supressing a smile, she grabbed a glass and turned towards her table. Or at least she tried. That boy had spawned from nowhere, and she didn't see him until it was too late. Their shoulder collided, sending her stumbling. Luckily, she managed to catch her drink before spilling it. She took a second to stabilize herself, before raising her eyes. Elena's ocean eyes met bleak midwinter, with hues of red and blue. Tilting her chin - he stood quite tall, but she was shorter than most people her age anyway -, she lowered her glass. "Oh, my appologies," she smiled. "I should have watched where I was going." It would have been a shame indeed to spill the cherry drink on the boy's elegant suit. The blonde haired girl noticed he was dressed similarly, black with red details and a overall gothic look. His blonde locks were lighter than Elena's, with various shades of brown, and even silver on the end. He looked aristocratic, almost like royalty, but a mischevious gleam lingered in his eyes.

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Word Count: 525/200
Stats: Sta 6 / Ev 7 / Str 4 / Wis 6 / Arc 6 / Acc 6
Action : n/a

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Date | 19th October 2024

Open to Interactions

Her black patent leather shoes shined almost indistinctly as Meyra walked down the vast corridor that led to the Great Hall. The place was less lit than usual, there was mystery and suspense suspended in the air, mixed with the enthusiasm and some nervousness that the little Gryffindor felt. This was the first Hogwarts event she would attend, and she couldn't be more excited and curious to see what awaited her.

Smooth jazz notes were the first thing her senses captured when she got close to the imposing and heavy wooden doors that guarded the entrance to the spacious room. Next, was the varied aromas of the treats and snacks, which Meyra couldn't wait to savour.

The sight that greeted her as soon as the hazel-eyed girl entered the well-known and familiar place was far from what had always greeted her in the last month and a half inside that castle. The long tables were arranged around the room, and in the middle some smaller and more intimate ones had been spread out and spectacularly well decorated for the occasion. In fact, everything seemed to have been thought out in detail, the horror environment was brilliantly intricate with all the glamor and splendour of a place taken from the old crime books that she remembered reading behind her parents' back, taken from her father's personal bookshelf.

Some students were already there, referring to conversations with their peers and friends, or perhaps new acquaintances. Who knows, in fact, what relationships will emerge after that night. Meyra knew that nights like this were written in many memories and stories of adventures, friendships and romances. But none of those present seemed familiar to her, perhaps later the opportunity would arise to say hello to them and who knows, she herself would leave with her own story to tell. But for now...

Meyra adjusted her dark gray beret hat over her long silky, brown hair, adjusted the sleeves of her white shirt and crossed her arms as she leaned against the entrance wall, awaiting Jun's arrival. A smile graced her dark red lips, fitting for the occasion, while she couldn't wait to start enjoying that party with her best friend, there was no one else with whom she imagined herself living and experiencing all these things for the first time.

Actions: Entering the Great Hall Trunk: Accio! Inventory: Enchanted Satchel | Ever-bashing Boomerang | Exploding bonbons | Dungbomb | Wizard Camera | Magic Lantern Race: Werewolf Stats: Stamina: 6| Evasion: 7| Strength: 7| Wisdom: 3| Arcane Power: 0| Accuracy: 7

Interaction: @Jun Mayumi Mochizuki

norwegian ❅ russian ❅ english ❅ swedish

october 19 outfit [x][x][x]

open to interactions

i'm gonna keep on dancing - at the pink pony club

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The little bit of trust and hope she still had for the Scottish school was gone. People had died. Durmstrang's headmistress had died. Only a week before, she thought that maybe this fall's ball wouldn't be as dramatic as the ones before, maybe someone else was in charge of organising the whole thing. How wrong she had been. The day they all arrived, she had just been happy and excited to travel with her friends. Then the explosions happened, the fire. In the middle of it all, Astrid had only let herself be taken out of this chaos. She still wasn't sure who pulled her away. Her mind had been like turned off during the whole thing. She hadn't really registered what had happened. But people told her what had happened, afterwards. Marishka Shtriga, their headmistress, was gone. She had not been targeted, but she died anyways. And with that, Astrid lost any hope in this ball happening "normally". The white dress she had originally planned for the evening got replace by a dark green one. She put on her sneakers, lots of silver rings, and walked up to the castle. That big shitty castle where most of the bad and stupid things came from. She entered the great hall and looked around. No familiar faces to be seen. That may be why people looked... happy, unbothered. How could they be so - ugh, she couldn't understand those Hogwarts kids. The two that didn't look unaware of what had been going on recently were a boy and a girl that looked older that the rest of the students already present. With a sigh, she walked towards the buffet. She wasn't eating or drinking anything from there, she just wanted to see what they had prepared this time. There were three tables or rather normal looking food for a Halloween party, but the fourth table had weird stuff on it. Muggle food that where relevant to the ball's theme. None of these could be trusted.

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Inventory wand
Action looking around
sta ● 11 | eva ● 9 | str ● 6 | wis ● 10 | arc ● 7 | acc ● 10
fearless - obnoxiously strong - keen eye - charmer
Post 1

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•Lovely Creature in Effect•

Action: Looking around and eating food while waiting on @Alexandria Clark
Not Moderated | Post 1•2•3

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Prat Stepped in the hall with a bright attitude for the night, atleast as his exterior, events that had happened someplace else still occupied his mind with worry. If kids with adults weren't safe in a gathering with some of the skilled wizards then was Hogwarts even as safe anymore as he had thought it to be? Questions clouded his mind regarding all sorts of things that might go wrong.

The previous recollections he had heard of Hogwarts' ball nights were not very fascinating either. But if he was stuck here he'd rather be here in the Castle than Hogsmeade, that was the smarter choice with everyone feeling slightly cynical. However he still could fake the very expression of having fun for the sake of normalcy. Within his reasoning by all means a twelve year old shall not have to worry about the problems that may arise, they had very capable staff afterall.

Pushing his worries to the back, Prat stepped further into the hall, gone was the interior he had familiarized himself with, taking it's place was an outstanding decor reminiscent to that of the times that have been. Something his father or grandfather might have lived through during their youth. The place had simply been transformed to match up to some of the most beautiful halls the lad had seen in all his short years of consciousness. The setting was simply magnificent. "Wow" he worded in the back of his mind as he thought what genius had come up with such brilliance, the sheer creativity this must have taken to even visualize and bring it all together.

The interior wasn't even the best part of the night, the various amounts of food that was produced for the night was certainly fascinating. Perhaps not something he would eat seeing as spam wasn't certainly his part of diet but if he had a pet, perchance they'd feed it to the lovely creature. Walking around the hall Prat found quite a few delicacies that caught his eyes. Those were some interesting looking foods, the heart looked quite savory to him, something he'd take note of in the back of his mind to visit back later.

For the present he was quite satisfied with looking around for familiar faces, ne noticed some but wasn't sure if they would like to approached or left alone. The lad chose latter as his choice of approach and instead opted to look around until his date arrived, upon which he had his eyes set on asking her for a dance. Things had been quite iffy between the duo following the days since camp but they seemed to reconcile their differences. Even going as far as to sneak out during curfew and patch things, it was where he decided to ask her to accompany him. Something she seemed to brush aside and treat it as if it was common to her when he was bestowing an honor upon her.

It was now his chance to take back control and seize the opportunity before she could. Take back control as some would say. But, atleast he could go back and eat some of that food until she would arrive, Prat could still feel his wand that he equipped within his Pants, towards the outside making it an accessory to his outfit for the night, Hoping it would not hinder his dance at the very least. His other reason to bring it was to be safe in case something did happen again.

The Fit :

Reducio

Imagine this sized down to a 12 yr old Prat

𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙵𝙸𝚃: Reducio

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▪ 𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈 ▪ ▪ FELIX ▪ KOLBECK ▪ ▪ DURMSTRANG iNPC ▪ SIXTH YEAR ▪

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𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂: Reducio @Evelynn Decipio as Greta

As Felix stepped into the transformed Great Hall, his eyes immediately darted around the room to take in the dancing shadows, macabre carvings on the pillars, the flickering, web-laden chandeliers, and the checkerboard flooring...

OF FUCKING COURSE IT WAS CHECKERBOARD FLOORING. Clearly the Brits had no idea that OTHER flooring patterns existed. No, maybe they had done it JUST to taunt him, the bastards. Everything present in the room just blended into a sensory assault that tugged at memories he'd rather forget.

'CAN'T DO THIS,' his inner voice screamed, 'NEVER SHOULD HAVE COME BACK, RUN AWAY, RUN—'.

Squeezing his eyes shut, the Swede fought to suppress the panic clawing up his throat like bile. He had to do this. He was the reason Greta ended up in danger... Merlin only knows what would have happened if he hadn't asked her to the Gala to appease his mother. The only way he could be sure she would stay safe, is if he made sure of it. 'I need to protect her.'

He hadn’t slept properly since the carriage explosion at Hogsmaede, and the exhaustion was painted on his face with sunken dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair, usually gelled back, was left loose to frame his face, and the rough shadow of a beard—whatever kind of beard a sixteen-year-old could muster—dusted his jawline.

Later, he'd blame his lack of sleep for dulling his judgement and allowing Greta to dress him up as some sort of leather Sherlock Holmes. The long trench coat wasn't too bad, and he was used to wearing ties and collared shirts during dumbass pureblood events, but... It was the hat. It made him feel like a giant dweeb and his hand was twitching, ready to toss it away at any sign of laughter from his peers.

His eyes flickered back to his date, the delicate features of her face and familiar seagreen eyes pulling him back to reality. Then he realized he had been squeezing her hand a bit too tightly. With a flush, he'd loosen his grip, then quickly clear his throat to try and play it cool.

"I uh... Heard they're going to have a maze or something. We could check it out, if you want." He tried to play it casual, but inside he wanted nothing more than to escape the hall. Maybe a nice relaxing stroll through a maze would help calm him. He could find a nice quiet spot and he and Greta could have a repeat of— NO. Stop.

He tried to think about other things, as he often forced himself to do when he found his mind steering towards their summertime kiss. He couldn't let himself think of her that way. She deserved better than whatever life of misery he could offer her. He had asked her to join him not just because his mother had nagged him, but to protect her from the dumbasses who seemed to hover around her constantly.

God, she looks beautiful tonight.

DAMMIT, THINK. Crups. Cruppies. How cute Greta looked when she saw— STOP.

Interacting with @Aamon Athanatos ♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ Date & Time: 19th October
Metamorphmagus: Not Active ♥ ♥♥♥ ♥ Outfit: 60s Reporter (Long Skirt, Blouse, Glasses, Flats, Camera Bag, Hat with Flower)

♥♥♥ As she stood by the entrance, she saw other faces appearing around. Everyone was dressed in fancy clothing, ready for the ball. Lifting the camera out of her bag, she adjusted the settings a little, playing with the dials to focus on some faces of a group of people not too far away excitedly chatting. She snapped a picture of them. As she peeked into the Great Hall, she found herself mesmerised by the decoration. It was so stunning, and the room always seemed to change drastically for each occasion. She was not used to rooms of a grandiose nature - her entire family squeezed into a very small house and magic was just not something she had been around much until she started to attend Hogwarts.

Xiomara snapped a couple of quick shots from the doorway, showcasing the decoration in case it became relevant for the Headliner later. Lowering the camera, she continued to rock as she looked around for the boy she was waiting for. She was rather average in height but being a first-year put her on the smaller end of the scale, making it a little hard to see over others.

She spotted Aamon a few moments before he spoke, as he approached her. Xiomara was a little taken back by his words, but then tilted her head and pulled a face. No one looked perfect, ever. Though, if she had to pick someone, he would be pretty close. He carried himself with such dignity and grace that she could not help but feel a little childish around him. He looked like he belonged at these sorts of gatherings - or perhaps in one of the classical movies. She could imagine him knowing how to ballroom dance or something! "Says the guy who looks like he's a movie star?" She joked with a toothy grin appearing on her face.

Taking the rather large bouquet from him, "Oh- I didn't- I'm sorry, I should have gotten you something-" The words were spoken at a slightly rapid speed as the realisation dawned on her.

Even when he had asked her to attend this with him, he had given her gifts. She had not anticipated him bringing yet another gift but perhaps she ought to have! Was this what people did at balls? She did not bring a gift for him and she really should have. Though, what would he even like?! Xiomara went to reach out for his arm, wondering what she ought to have gotten him. She did not know enough about him to know what he would like? "Oh wait- hold on-" Stepping back, she lifted her camera, holding the large bouquet under her arm for a moment and adjusted it so it would focus on him, "Let me capture this first," Xiomara mumbled as she took a portrait photo of him, including a large portion of his outfit in the frame.

"There, perfect," The Ravenclaw lowered her camera and adjusted the huge bouquet, wondering where she should put it. Could she put it into the camera bag? Though, that would probably just crumple it. Xiomara nodded, "Now I'm ready!" She would raise her hand and take his if he offered it again. If not, she would offer him hers.

"I heard there's also a maze or something in the courtyard if you prefer going that way?" She asked, allowing him to decide if he wanted to enter this gala and stay here or check out the Haunted Halls at the courtyard beforehand. She was flexible.

Xiomara was also aware there was some sort of murder mystery taking place nearby too but, after the recent events, she was not entirely sure how she felt about that. Whilst she was lucky enough to not have been at Hogsmeade or anywhere nearby at that time, she heard about it. For starters, it made the front cover of the Daily Prophet and her family instantly wrote to her to ask if she was okay. There were rumours, of course, too but she was lucky enough to have managed to distant herself from it. It definitely sounded awful and she probably would not be sneaking out of Hogwarts or her dorm or attempting to break any rules any time soon, if she was honest. But taking part in a murder mystery right after that seemed a little weird to her. She was hoping he did not pick that option but she would have been fine with dropping by the courtyard if he wanted to go there.

"Though - that table does look pretty great. We should probably stop by there before we go elsewhere," She asked as she pointed to a three-tier cake in the centre of a table, surrounded with a selection of food. They were not necessarily close enough to see what was on the table but from the distance, it looked like there was a good variety and the items seemed to be themed. If there was something she loved, it was food. Of course, she had no idea that Aamon did not eat the food - she ate it in large quantities, it was amongst the best stuff she had ever eaten!

Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 5 | Arcane Power: 1 | Accuracy: 6
Race | Abilities: Metamorphmagus | Minor Appearance Shift/Skilled Transfigurer
Items: Wizard Camera, Notebook, Pen and a large Bouquet

OOC: No rush on replying, I just wanted to move the conversation along a little so they aren't stuck at the door for weeks :p

@Winnie Harper

Mathias Pride entered like a stormfront—head held high, eyes dark with a gleam of self-assured dominance, and a grin that seemed more a warning than a greeting. Dressed in monotone pink. A deep fuschia jacket and matching tie. His undershirt, a petal pink that only served to show just how pale the teen truly was. His paper white skin so much paler and his tightly combed red hair created a curious image. He was tall, lanky for a better word, standing at about 6 foot 2. He was not wearing any noticeable jewelry, but there was a slight bulge in his pocket, small and box shaped. He was after all the 'adoring' boyfriend of Winnifred Harper, a Ravenclaw of the same year. Beneath the careful grooming and elaborate clothes, however, was a heart cold and calculating, a man whose arrogance thrived on the control he wielded over the people around him.

He paused in the threshold of the ballroom. Mathias felt it as if it were the natural order of things—people unsettled by the recent drama in Hogsmeade, a few half-breeds dead and a few overly sensitive children traumatized. This was a world he understood well and thrived within. He m ight capture the occasional disdainful glare but those never bothered him, rather he savored it. On many occasion, he would have approached them, egged them on. And yet, tonight, there was only one person he truly wanted to see. Winnie Harper. His gaze swept the room like a predator stalking its prey, searching for the sight of her long, scarlet hair, her soft blue eyes, and that delicate smile he had come to know so well, so intimately.

She would be here—she had to be here. She always was.

The ballroom itself was a grandiose space, filled with his peers in their finest. Laughter and music floated through the air, though to Mathias, they sounded distant, hollow. His mind was far from the evening’s festivities. His thoughts twisted in darker, deeper places, hidden beneath layers of charm and manipulation. Beneath the shimmering gowns and highborn airs, under the masked civility of the wizards and witches around him, Mathias knew that tonight would be different. This night had a purpose, one known only to him, like the weaver of some intricate, predestined thread of fate.

Or rather, he thought with a smirk, the manipulator of those threads.

The multiverse theory had always fascinated Mathias. It was more than an abstract philosophical curiosity to him. He believed, no, he knew, that the world was made up of infinite possibilities—each moment capable of splintering into countless realities, every decision a string pulling toward one future or another. Fate was not an unyielding river, as some fools believed. Fate was a tangled web of strings, each one vibrating with the weight of choices. Mathias prided himself on being a master weaver, the kind of man who could pluck and pull at the threads, adjusting reality to suit his own designs.

And tonight, one of those strings would tighten around Winnie Harper.

She had become curious lately, asking questions she had asked before. Hesitation towards his gifts, his touch. Her innocent eyes flickering with something that Mathias had not seen in her for a long time—awareness. She was beginning to remember, or at least realize little by little. Small fragments of the past, tiny shreds of truth that had escaped the steady flow of forgetfulness that Mathias had been feeding her for years.

A cold smile curled on his lips. Not that it mattered. She would forget again, as she always did. After all, he had been slipping her the forgetfulness potion since nearly the beginning of their relationship. It was so subtle, so gradual, that she had only rarely realized and while that betrayal was painful, surely moreso for him than her, he would steal from her choice again and again. At first, it had been necessary to calm her fears, to ease her suspicions about his darker ambitions, about the inconvenient truth. But as time went on, Mathias found himself enjoying it—the power, the absolute control over her mind.

How easy it had been to gaslight her, to warp her reality. It rarely involved much more than a dose of strawberry juice, a shallow excuse or a shiny gift. When she would question something strange—a moment she couldn’t quite place, a feeling that didn’t align with the narrative he had fed her—Mathias would laugh softly, stroking her hair, and tell her she was just imagining things. "Winnie, darling, you worry too much. You’ve always been forgetful, haven’t you?" And she would smile, nodding slowly, as though she had never doubted him. And when that doubt flickered back into her eyes again, a dose of the potion, carefully hidden in her juice, would smooth away the creases of uncertainty.

But now, something had shifted. She had grown quieter lately, more distant. Watching him in a way that made him uneasy, as if she were playing her own game. As if this time she was being more cautious than those times past.

His jaw tightened at the thought. She knew. She had to know. He was certain of it when she denied that slice of cake.

Mathias swept through the crowd, his eyes scanning for her.

@Xiomara Torres

Aamon stood back for a moment, watching Xiomara adjust her camera and snap a picture of him. He couldn’t help but smile. The way she immersed herself in her photography—so focused, so determined—was one of the things that intrigued him about her. She was different from everyone else at this ball. While others were obsessed with appearances or fitting in, Xiomara was capturing the world around her, seeing details most would overlook.

When she lowered the camera and flashed that toothy grin at him, joking about him looking like a movie star, he couldn’t resist a chuckle. "What is a movie star?" He asked, wondering what sort of humanoid astrological phenomenon a movie star would actually be. He had no idea that it was a muggle thing, in fact he never asked her pedigree. He probably should have, his family would be highly interested even if he did not care in the least. He smiled, assuming a movie star was probably 'good.' Her words were light, teasing, but there was a certain honesty behind them that made him appreciate her even more. Unlike most people, Xiomara didn’t seem to expect him to be anything other than himself.

If she explained in a way that might apply, he would use the foreign phrase "Movie star?" He repeated the strange words with a raised brow and shake his head side to side. "Not quite. But if anyone here belongs in the limelight," a phrase he knew better. The “lime” in limelight having nothing to do with the green citrus fruit but rather quicklime or calcium oxide. A form of stage lighting that predated lightbulbs for muggles and in wizarding stagework, something that is used in conjunction with conventional magic to this day. "It’s you."

He meant it. The way she stood there, with the wildflowers pinned to her hat and her vintage outfit—it was like she had walked out of a different time, and he admired her for not trying to conform to the glitz and glamour of the event.

She fussed over the bouquet he had given her, apologizing for not getting him something in return. Aamon shook his head slightly, amused more than anything. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said softly. “I brought it because I wanted to. Not because I expected anything in return.”

And that was the truth. The gesture wasn’t about impressing her—okay, maybe it was a little. a boy needed to use what he had, but it was about showing her that he cared, even in the small ways. Though the thought of her going out of her way to find something for him made his chest tighten a little. Maybe because it meant maybe she cared, too. She did not seem to know who he was and that was nice. No demands for answers. No questions about his brother or the rest of his dysfunctional family. No questions about "what he knew" because he did not know anything.

When she suggested capturing him in a photo first, he didn’t protest. Standing there, framed by the soft lights of the Great Hall, he felt like he was stepping into her world for a moment—one where every moment could be frozen and remembered. Her camera clicked, and he watched as she lowered it again, satisfied with her shot.

“There’s something about how you see things,” Aamon said quietly as she adjusted the bouquet again. “It’s like you capture more than just what’s there.” An odd choice of phrase but a sense of disease meandered into his consciousness for just a moment. No, there was no way that she saw it. That she caught him, he silently soothed his own paranoia.

Her suggestion about the maze made him think for a moment. The idea of wandering the courtyard, maybe getting a little lost together, seemed like an intriguing option. But when she mentioned the food—particularly the grand, three-tiered cake in the center of the hall—he had to suppress a small laugh. Of course, she’d be drawn to the food. She seemed somewhat preoccupied with her meal when he had asked her to this dance. He was pretty sure his greatest competition was a good meal.

“I can’t say no to cake,” he said, playfully offering his arm again. “Let’s check out the food, and then we can explore the maze. I have a feeling you’ll want to document that, too.” He had no plan of eating anything there, he couldn't but she would probably not even notice as long as there was a constant stream of carbs. A part of him wanted to warn her about the food, the potential that there was something intentionally placed within the very food she so trustingly consumed but that was a can of constrictor snakes, not worms he was not yet ready to open.

He wouldn’t eat any of the food—his family was clear on that—but he wouldn’t miss the chance to enjoy her company, watching as she indulged in the treats Hogwarts had prepared. Besides, tonight wasn’t about the food or the maze or even the ball itself.

It was about spending time with Xiomara.

As they made their way toward the table, he glanced down at her, thinking about the moment she’d captured on her camera. “By the way, I did think of something I wanted," she had lamented failing to get him a gift. "Mind if I get a picture of you this time? I’d like to remember tonight.” If allowed, he would make sure that the food or at least some of it was caught in frame.

OC: As for doing one of the other activities. Your call, he will follow.

Trunk