The LeDames Winter Ball

" I told myself next time i’ll be colder but here I am, feeling the warmth all over. " c.c. aurel——

Winter break was going swimmingly. Aleksandra was enjoying her little vacation away from that dreaded castle known as Hogwarts. While the wintery season was not Aleksandra’s favorite she did not mind the abundance of snow and frigid breeze to accompany it. Not only that the girl had company during the break, a young first year that seemed to be decent company who never really had a family Christmas before. In that regard Aleksandra offered them to spend the holidays with her and her family; it was the least she could do. After all, nobody deserves to be alone for the holidays. It really was not too bad for the Holidays to Aleksandra.
Though she had no idea she ended up coming to this winter ball with the company of Yagmur. She did recall receiving a letter from EmmaLee and the young second year seemed inclined to go along with it. But it could not be too awfully bad besides the fact that this older girl’s family must be insane trying to find her a betrothed. What generation were they in anyways? Arranged marriages never end well; a loveless marriage or relationship ends poorly. A soft sigh escaped Aleksandra’s fair lips as she approached the doors to the Winter Ball.
The young girl wore a black winter coat over her black dress that shimmered with a few sparkles, while the girl’s platinum almost white hair cascaded down her shoulders in little riplets of waves. The young girl felt her heart race. She never really did social gatherings and her aunt offered to stay with the children, but Aleksandra explained that they would just find and meet up with her later since they were staying at a nearby lodging.
Gray eyes landed on the fairly tall first year boy that was accompanying her trying to ease her nerves, Aleksandra kept a stoic expression nodding towards Yagmur. Before entering the vast mansion. Glancing around Aleksandra eyed everything carefully. The young girl had no trust for anyone in this family it seemed strange to hold a ball just to marry off a young girl who was not even of age yet, not only that EmmaLee did not seem like the type to willingly agree, but at the same time she would not be shocked if she did.
Removing her coat Aleksandra handed it to a servant before walking off carefully. The young girl made sure she kept Yagmur in sight. She did not want to lose the boy after all, not like she could because he was taller than her. If anyone were to get lost it would be her and she knew it. A sigh of annoyance escaped Aleksandra’s lips, she really hated the things she does for her companions she swore mentally to herself she truly hated this. But at the same time how bad could this turn out? She was away from all of those idiots from Hogwarts.
Glancing around this vast hall entering the ball area Aleksandra stood still analyzing everything, how strange many adults seemed to mingle and everyone seemed either rather cheerful or polite and stoic.
Aleksandra leaned backwards slightly leaning towards Yamgur, the young second year never attended pureblood gatherings before nor did she ever planned to. Of course her family are from pureblood lineage her father avoided that scenery while her aunt only went to gatherings from her friends that she was close to other than that the rest of her family she had no clue about sense they disowned her father years ago.
Taking another shaky breath Aleksandra grabbed Yagmur’s wrist to keep him close; she feared to lose her charge. Her aunt would have her head if she were to lose him after all. Glancing around the sea of people, Aleksandra was looking for one person, the one who seemed to need her to come and suffer in this sea of purebloods.
Gray eyes landed to a level stage noticing EmmaLee right away due to her short white hair. Aleksandra moved swiftly, her hand still clamped around Yagmur’s wrist dragging the boy behind her as she made her way towards EmmaLee. The young girl seemed to scowl. Why on earth was the older girl on a stage up for display? Was that how pureblood truly acted? If so, how disgusting! Aleksandra felt her blood boil. Old school pureblood families seemed disgusting with their traditions. Thankfully Aleksandra was glad her father had his own pureblood ideal’s and taught Aleksandra those from a young age.
Approaching the level stair stage Aleksandra stopped inches away glancing up at EmmaLee. The young girl seemed like a porcelain doll with a white dress. Aleksandra felt her stomach churning. Who's bright idea was it to dress this girl up like a bride? Glancing slightly down at her black dress Aleksandra felt slightly out of place next to the older girl. EmmaLee looked bright and stunning a true bride even though Aleksandra thought that was a bit disturbing to think of, while the younger girl looked like a mourner at a funeral in her black dress with her gray cold eyes matching her dress’s mood. Two opposites for sure how EmmaLee dealt with Aleksandra was unknown to the young girl.
“Miss LeDames you look like a doll.”
Aleksandra spoke bluntly, her scottish tone soft and feathery echoed around the trio as the young girl crossed her arms against her chest not caring if the older girl’s elders watched her. Aleksandra refused to allow this girl to be humiliated like this and if someone had to put up a fight well Aleksandra figured she could. After all the young girl was smart and had wits and a brilliant mind she would show it off.
Of course this being a pureblood event Aleksandra had to be careful, the girl comes from a pureblood lineage, but not once has she ever really attended any of these events before. A new scenery for the girl to see if the wolves in the shadows would strike her or not.

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wc: 1048 tag: @EmmaLee LeDames@Yağmur Harrow ──────────────

notes: Permission to lightly godmod Yagmur was granted by their writer. ────────────── ──────────────

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ROLEPLAYING AS BEAUXBATONS iNPC AURÉLIE NATHALIE DUVAL

@EmmaLee LeDames Open to Interactions!

sta 6 | eva 9 | str 6 | wis 8 | arc 6 | acc 7 fearless, perfectionist

"french" | "english" | thoughts | "others"

action. the entire Duval family is wandering the ball

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In true Duval fashion, Aurélie's grandparents had told neither her parents nor her about where exactly they were going today, just that their attendance was required. For two who barely ever walked out of their home, even to brave the short distance to their parents house, Augustin and Élodie Duval had a large assortment of opulent clothing. What had taken Aurélie a grand total of one hour to complete, her parents had taken double the time.

The little French girl had chosen a blue-grey tulle dress out of her wardrobe, the thing simple yet elegant. She paired the outfit with silver hoop earrings and pulled her brown hair, which had grown quite long, into a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Buns weren't the best look for Aurélie, though it was her constant choice for occasions like these, because not only did they fit her grandparents' standards, but also were unassuming and simple to do. Her parents, on the other hand, had gone with clothes made of the same embroidered dark green fabric, soft to the touch.

After meeting up with Henri and Anaïs Océane, Aurélie's paternal grandparents, and an hour more of getting ready in which her grandmother forced her into unnecessary heels instead of the comfortable boots that she'd opted for, the Duval family was finally presentable according to social standards.

--

Unlike the winter before, Aurélie didn't have the pleasure of travelling out of France, though wherever they were going wasn't in Marseilles, her hometown. The family was now in southern France, by the Pyrenees mountain range. The mansion before which Aurélie stood was grand and large. The grounds had been decorated with magical lights and a fountain. They entered the grandeur of the winter home, and when they were led into the ballroom, Aurélie found herself even more in awe. The entire estate was gorgeous, regal in its classic design. But it wasn't just the scene that made her surprised, it was also the girl seated atop a platform, dressed like a doll in a white dress that looked so very uncomfortable.

EmmaLee? Aurélie's summer camp friend, the one she'd met back in first year, during the spring ball at Hogwarts? The girl who was a native French speaker but didn't live in France? What is she doing here? It was obvious from her position on the platform that EmmaLee was connected to the pureblood family who was hosting this ball.

Aurélie sidled up to her grandfather, who was looking around at the decor with less than half the awe that the French girl had had. "Why is EmmaLee here, Grandpère? grandfather"

Henri looked down at her, surprised at such a question. Never before had his granddaughter asked about a member of one of his elite friends' family. Never before had his granddaughter known someone worth knowing by name. "Petite-fille granddaughter, this is the LeDames family's winter ball. Your friend EmmaLee is here to find a suitor." Before Aurélie could ask after whatever that meant, Henri drifted off with her grandmother in tow, most likely to greet the LeDames family matriarchs and then socialise. "Come along, Aurélie, dear." This time, her grandfather's words were in English.

Aurélie followed dutifully, feeling the way her mother and father were drawn towards her, always looking out for her, even though she didn't need their protection. All five of them made their way to the raised platform where the matriarchs of the LeDames family sat, waiting for Henri to speak.

As the elders began conversation, Aurélie grew bored, her gaze drifting until it caught back on EmmaLee. She wasn't sure if her friend was paying attention to her surroundings or not, or if she was allowed to speak with her, but she shook her hand in a tentative wave, choosing to smile if the white-haired girl looked over at her.

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A couple months ago, Hans had read “the Picture of Dorian Gray”. He would never have picked up the book without Nikolai’s recommendation, but it was his commentary that still stuck strong with him. In this fucked up world image was all that mattered and parents wouldn’t care that they were stripping their children of their rightful futures if it meant they could add another gold star marriage to their collection. All their families wanted to paint them into a picture immortalised in oil, just another picture to hang up when life after life goes too soon. This particular pure-blood ball, despite the games and food that attempted to dilute its evils, was more a trap for the young EmmaLee than any other, and he, an eager attendee just like any other, could have contributed to it.

The brief and sudden - yet still very much delayed - shock of realisation flashed across his face before Hans managed to take hold of the tablecloth as a handhold. Otto peered at him with slight concern drawing together his brows, but he quickly raised up a hand signalling he was fine. He smiled, though the elder man must have known him well enough to tell without a doubt it was the instinctive one made for a demanding crowd, fake as Felix’s faux leather. ...On the topic of Felix, Hans would never admit out loud he regretted not choosing the Kolbeck ball instead. Curious eyes scanned over the ostentatious display of foods, and were soon turned away as nothing struck his attention. Perhaps, more accurately, he just did not feel comfortable enough to eat. Make some connections, expand your circle, get in, get out, treat it like a Muggle party. He was great at socialising and he knew it, but his self-convinced confidence, for once, wasn’t the solution to his uneasiness.

His grandfather, who had been eying him keenly, finally said, laughing against the tension and softly patting the boy on the back, “Go talk with her. When did you become shy in front of girls?” This managed the elicit a true grin from the boy, whose eyes crinkled at the teasing - good, oddly he was glad to still see the boyhood left in him, painted in stark contrast. But the half-blood wasn’t surprised when his grandfather noticed where he had been looking towards. After all, every pair of eyes had been drawn to the centrepiece of the whole show. The young German frowned at her distant throne, and only after a squint did he find a suitable adjective to the girl he would have first called “beautiful”: far too young. Presented as a trophy and dressed in a splendid white, the LeDames heiress looked more like a bride than appropriate for her tender thirteen years of age. His eyes were still on her, but he nodded for Otto. Then approaching the LeDames girl, he turned back as his grandfather called out his name, “And Hans? Don’t be troubled. Enjoy the night my boy.”

Enjoy the night. It shouldn’t be that hard.

“Je suis Hans, I am Hans” the boy in question introduced as he neared with a nod and small, amused smile. “Enchanté, Madamemoiselle LeDames. Nice to meet you, miss LeDames” Oh yes, that one Duolingo streak wasn’t for nothing, even if it only lasted for ten days. And who cared if it sounded like the language had gone through the washing machine. Despite the effort (if it could barely be called that) at learning her language, he didn’t go as far as to bow, even if that meant he stuck out like a sore thumb amongst pure-blood etiquette - old-fashioned, conservative formalities neither him nor his grandfather could grow enough ennui to study. They had been made necessities though when everyone was already at each others’ throats anyway, why even bother? But what were such futile niceties if not a distraction from the evils of the purist Wizarding society? If it would only be a glaze of sugar above their cruelties, it would mean nothing at all. Dorian had been courteous until his dying breath.

Switching to English which no doubt saved both of them from further awkwardness, Hans said, refocusing on the blonde, “EmmaLee hmm? You seem familiar, have I met you somewhere?” For beyond her dolled up exterior and the oddly-styled platinum white hair, was a girl barely older than him and one he was certain he had came across before, if only out of the corner of his eye. With his usual casual elegance he continued chuckling as if there was nothing out of place from his observation, “Funny, how time pasts so fast.” Hans did not find it particularly funny at all that the last time he had seen her she was just a student. Then she had probably been laughing, with interests of far more depth than getting promised away while still in her youth. How some of the girls he knew would sell their souls to be in her princess position and get whisked away with a Prince Charming from a faraway land. Literally - he had heard there was a Japanese attendee. Hans was still unable to fathom how they did not suffocate in their fairytale ideals.

And if her Prince Charming was too tardy to arrive on time, he might as well make sure the guest of honour doesn’t starve. Sitting as her future was wasted away was probably as hungering as it was daunting, and while Hans’ appetite was unusually low, he still said, even if it would be declined, “Do you wanna get something to eat while we get to know each other properly?” In the world sick for blood kindness was the least Hans could offer.

Anyone with working vision could see the figure EmmaLee had been presented as - pristine, elegant, ready for marriage, but of course rarely was Hans content with the shallowest of what the world had to offer. Everyone had so much more in them beyond a portrait and a surname. His brother’s lasting words was haunting as the piece of literature it referred to: “We all have differing beauties on the outside but within we are scarred with every wound of the past.”

@EmmaLee LeDames

OOC: Due to missing three whole dang people on the guest list. I will do the Narrator Post on Monday to give them time to post. >.<

EmmaLee woke up the morning of the ball, her? ball.... her grandmother's ball to the curtains being ripped open to reveal the far too bright sunlight of winter in the Pyrenees. SHHHHICK SHHHICK SHHHICK.

"Rise and shine my little one! There is much to do!" Her grandmother called in French as she went about the lavish room ripping open more curtains. The LeDames women only spoke French amongst each other, though most of them knew multiple languages. EmmaLee sunk deeper under the comforter and quilt to hide from the light and the cold. The Winter Mansion was freezing despite the roaring fireplaces in every room.

Her grandmother unceremoniously ripped the heavy covers off of her, which might have been a feat for someone of her size, but Genvieve LeDames was a robust woman despite being only half a foot taller than EmmaLee. "Up! Up! You little white devil!" She said in a cheery tone. Genvieve called all of the younger girls "little white devils" whenever they were being cheeky or mischievous or just generally misbehaving and doing what she didn't want them to do.

Honestly, it was slightly crazy to even call Genvieve a grandmother. She was barely over forty and though she had the same snowy hair as EmmaLee, and EmmaLee's tens of cousins, she barely even looked forty and was a stern, hurricane of a woman.

The elder woman grabbed EmmaLee's bare foot and dragged her towards the side of the bed until her knees were dangling off the side of the massive four-poster bed. If EmmaLee was supposed to feel like a princess being celebrated today, her room was certainly made for her to feel that way. The bed she had slept in for the past few nights was easily big enough for five of her, with a goose feather mattress and pillows and enough comforters and quilts to make a four-room pillow fort. The room itself was big enough to be its own flat and was equipped enough, as well, with a sitting area in front of the fireplace, a small kitchenette, and even a claw foot bathtub that was also big enough to fit four or five EmmaLees inside.

"LaLune and her girls will be in soon to bathe and dress you. Up! Up!" Genvieve barked, physically hauling EmmaLee out of the bed by her armpits to stand on the freezing floor. While EmmaLee was generally a morning person, she wasn't lately, and even if she was, she needed more than the few seconds her grandmother was giving her to really wake up and start getting about her day. What was it? Six in the morning?

Before EmmaLee could even say good morning to her grandmother, Genvieve was out and LaLune and the girls were in. LaLune began to chatter at her in fast French about the plan for the day and how almost all of it would be spent getting her dressed. She dragged the girl over to the seating area to feed her breakfast, while EmmaLee's younger cousins ran her a bath in the shining, white tub.

From there, the day was a whirlwind of getting dragged to the, actually really nice, perfumed bath and then dressed in a ridiculous white dress, the same dress LeDames women had been wearing to their betrothal ball for generations. It was amazing how well it had been maintained and LaLune explained that it had been repaired over the years but was mostly in mint condition.

Eventually, after several layers of underclothes, including a corset, EmmaLee was placed in front of the vanity near the bathtub so that LaLune and the girls could do her hair and makeup, if you could call it makeup. The LeDames women prided themselves on their natural beauty, but EmmaLee's natural beauty was highlighted by a swipe of glitter across her cheeks and nose, a small amount of blush on her cheeks, and some red on her lips. LaLune fussed and grumbled over EmmaLee's short hair, but at least she didn't rage about it like her grandmother had when she had first arrived.

Genvieve had been more furious than EmmaLee had ever seen another person before and that was saying something growing up in a village with a group of old French war veterans. She had refused to speak to EmmaLee until halfway through her second day at the Winter Mansion when she had told the girl at lunch that she was upset about the loss of EmmaLee's hair, but it would be fine. They could do something with it. The "something" was merely LaLune taking the locks around her face, twisting them around, and pinning them back behind her ears with clear bobby pins.

She would not be wearing any shoes to fight off the chill from the stone floor because tradition... apparently. Genvieve and LaLune did not explain too much about anything that was going on and EmmaLee wasn't sure if it was because they were used to not being questioned or because they were used to all the girls already knowing everything.

As EmmaLee looked in the full-length mirror later, she couldn't help but wonder what Stephen would think of the way she looked now. She sighed. Best not to think of him right now. Her chest twisted at the thought that she had found another way to complicate their relationship. She'd fix it though. She just had to get through the night and tell whoever that she was already spoken for.... If she was still spoken for.

Before she could fret for too much longer, she was whisked away once more to the grand ballroom where LaLune placed her on a grand chair that really kind of looked like a throne and told her not to move until her grandmother told her to, and so the ball began.
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As EmmaLee sat and watched the guests pour in and begin to dance, eat, or mingle, she twisted the fabric in her lap nervously. Ironically, she could see the evidence of repair to the very ends that she was twisting, suggesting that as other LeDames women had worn this dress, they had also twisted it as she did now. She could have laughed at the weird sense of connection she felt to all of those other LeDames women, which probably included her mother.

Interestingly enough, she hadn't even seen her mother so far. She, Victor, and Chlo were taking a longer route to France because of her mother's advanced and delicate pregnancy. Celeste had said that they would definitely be here for the ball, but they might not arrive until it had started. EmmaLee frowned as guest after guest arrived and were not someone she already knew. She had been allowed to invite a couple of friends but was not privy to the guest list, and so everyone who entered could possibly be someone she already knew but the vast majority were strangers.

All of a sudden, EmmaLee brightened as Aleksandra, Aleks, entered the ballroom and beelined over to her, with a dark-skinned, white-haired boy in tow, and commented about her looking like a doll. "I believe that might be the point." She said, quietly and with a soft giggle, hoping that with the music and their seats behind her, her grandmothers would not overhear. EmmaLee was more relieved than she expected to be that her newfound friend had arrived. At least she could count on the little bit of comfort that Aleks' spunky attitude provided. EmmaLee sighed.

"I'm supposed to sit 'ere until something 'appens, but I'm not quite sure what. It is so good to see you, though. Thank you very much for coming." She continued, smiling brightly. "Who is this?" She asked, gesturing to the boy. She felt like she had seen him before but she couldn't quite place it. He looked younger than even Aleks and if he wasn't so dark-skinned, EmmaLee would have assumed that he was Aleks' brother.

Just as she finished asking Aleks about the boy, another girl popped out of the crowd of guests and EmmaLee could have squealed with excitement, but she kept her dignity. Aurelie?! EmmaLee couldn't believe that her little friend kept showing up in the most unexpected places. First the sled race at camp and now her own ball, but both contexts did make sense. Aurelie was French after all, though EmmaLee hadn't realized that Aurelie's family technically knew hers. EmmaLee smiled widely at the girl as she gave EmmaLee a wave and Aurelie's parents and grandparents began to converse and do formality things with the Matriarchs. The older French girl waved the younger to come over and join her conversation with Aleks.

"Aurelie, I am so very excited to see you! 'Ow are you?" She said, brightly. If she had a couple of friends here, maybe this ball wouldn't be so bad. LaLune's daughters had very excitedly told her about there being a game to play, so maybe she could play it with them after she was allowed to stand up from this chair. As comfortable as it was, the more people that came into the room, the more nervous she was becoming about being on display this way.

The third person who came up to the stage was a boy whom she didn't know, but he greeted and introduced himself to EmmaLee in French that was heavily accented, then switched to English, which was still accented, but he seemed significantly more comfortable with the shared language. EmmaLee raised an eyebrow and tipped her head curiously. She had no idea where she could have possibly met the boy, but due to his accent, he was probably from Durmstrang, which soured her impression of anyone right off the bat. Not that she knew for sure, but if he was, he was at least polite in this moment. They had probably crossed paths at one of the balls or the summer camp.

"Enchanté Delighted. Delighted to meet you as well, 'Ans." She said politely with a dip of her head, as LaLune had shown her earlier. "It is possible we 'ave crossed paths at either the 'Ogwarts camp or the balls. Though my mother's family is French, I attend 'Ogwarts school." She suggested, turning and gesturing to her friends on either side of her and then to the unknown boy. "These are my friends, Aurelie DuVall of Beauxbaton, and Aleks FairBairn, of 'Ogwarts, and also Aleks' friend."

She smiled wryly as Hans commented on how fast time goes and nodded. "It does. I can't believe it is already almost the New Year." She said, quickly scanning the room for anyone else she knew, namely her mother and her towering stepfather. Where were they? Did something go wrong with their travels? Surely someone would tell her about that, yes? Or would they insist she keep her focus on making a good match? EmmaLee frowned at the thought of her mother going into labor without her.

Hans brought her attention back to the people in front of her as he suggested moving over to the food table and for a moment she prayed that her stomach wouldn't answer him for her.
"As much as I would love to 'ave a bite of the wonderful food my family 'as provided for their guests, I must remain on my throne until the queens give me leave." She said, in a slightly hushed but mischievous voice that was loud enough for the four around her to hear but no one else, and putting a delicate hand over her mouth to chuckle a little. "You all are very welcome to go and enjoy the food and the dancing though." She said with a kind of hostess smile, though she, admittedly would rather them not go.

Date: Dec 27,2024

mentions: Reducio @EmmaLee LeDames

WC: 533

ROLEPLAYING AS BEAUXBATONS iNPC AURÉLIE NATHALIE DUVAL

@EmmaLee LeDames @Aleksandra FairBairn Hans Jenssen (@Archer Duncan)

sta 6 | eva 9 | str 6 | wis 8 | arc 6 | acc 7 fearless, perfectionist

"french" | "english" | thoughts | "others"

action. the entire Duval family is wandering the ball

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When Aurélie noticed that EmmaLee had seen her, the girl's eyes brightened noticeably. She wasn't the most insecure of girls-- to be completely honest, she wasn't insecure at all most of the times-- but there was always that nagging feeling inside the French girl that kept telling her that she was forgettable, that no one would remember her. Obviously, EmmaLee had, as they'd spoke multiple times even after that first year spring ball, but the feeling would never go away, no matter how much Aurélie willed it so.

EmmaLee invited her over to where she and another girl, who Aurélie had never spoke to, were already in conversation. The girl looked over at her grandparents, who were still in discussion and wouldn't mind if she wandered off, especially if it was to talk to the girl that all the surrounding festivities were happening because of. The bigger problems were Élodie and Augustin, who would most definitely not want their daughter out of arm's reach. Sure enough, even now they were staring at her instead of paying attention to the LeDames Matriarchs.

Augustin walked closer to her, Aurélie's mother in tow. "Dear girl," His words were in French. "Do not scamper off like I'm sure you are about to. You could get lost in this crowd. We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Aurélie fought the urge to roll her eyes at her father's tone. He was a great papa, overprotective but generous in his attention, but did he really need her to be within his eyesight at every moment? Her grandparents wouldn't have brought them here if it wasn't safe. "I won't wander far, Papa." I gestured to the area with EmmaLee and the other girl. "I just want to talk to my friend."

"Hm." Augustin looked over at Élodie for the final verdict. The woman considered for a moment, then nodded her approval. "Fine, then."

Finally free, Aurélie made her way to the platform where EmmaLee was positioned with a bright smile on her face. "It's great to see you too, EmmaLee! I'm doing amazing." That was a bit of a lie, her break wasn't going amazing, exactly, but it wasn't bad either. Her parents had wanted their daughter to be home for the entire break this year, instead of at her grandparents
home, so she was bored. "And you?"

Not long after Aurélie had joined the little circle that was forming around her Hogwarts friend, another member had arrived. This time was a boy, around her age, though definitely much taller. He ignored both Aurélie and the other girl and her friend, introducing himself directly to EmmaLee and speaking only to her. Rude. I suppose his parents forgot to teach him some manners. Though she supposed she couldn't really say anything, considering her own resistance to tradition and propriety.

Hans, that was his name. After speaking a bit, EmmaLee turned to Aurélie and the other girl, introducing them to the boy. And her name is Aleks. She stored both the names away for future use.

"Nice to meet you." Aurélie turned from Hans to Aleks and her "friend", a small smile on her face.

When EmmaLee said she couldn't leave her "throne" for a while longer, Aurélie began to really pity the girl. She was nothing but a headstrong girl in all the moments that the French girl had seen her before, from key hunting during the spring ball to water balloon throwing at summer camp to even extreme broom sledding. Sitting all dressed up like a doll on a chair and not even getting to enjoy the festivities of her own ball seemed not the sort of thing that she'd enjoy.

Aurélie turned down EmmaLee's offer to let them all leave and enjoy the food and dancing. "I can stay for a while longer, EmmaLee." Not only did she not want to leave her friend alone on her little isolated platform, but she also didn't want to go and check in with her parents before enjoying the food and dancing. She'd go a bit later, once more guests arrived.

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As she gestured the others towards the food and festivities, another younger girl approached EmmaLee, introduced herself, and suggested that they had met before. It took a moment to recognize, but EmmaLee smiled widely as she realized that the girl was a younger Hufflepuff. A first year? She was pretty sure. EmmaLee was not very good at knowing everyone's names right off the bat, but she was very good at remembering faces.

"I believe we are in Hufflepuff together." She said with a warm smile. "I am sure we have seen each other around the common room. I am a third-year and a prefect. It is nice to see you again." She said genuinely. Before much more could be said, the girl wished her good luck and whisked herself off to the dancefloor. EmmaLee chuckled at the obvious excitement. At the very least one person was going to have a good time.

Once the girl had been and gone, EmmaLee turned back to her conversation with Aurélie. "I am actually doing well, despite the fluff." She said with a small laugh, pulling the top layers of her dress up and kind of poofing them in the air before letting them settle and smoothing them out on her lap. "I am having a good time overall, and I am especially glad that you and Aleks are here. I am supposed to dance soon with various suitors, but I hope after that we can hang out and have a good time together." She said with a bright smile to her French friend.

And so the night truly begins as the adults find nothing wrong with the beautiful debutante on display and the younger generation finds pits in their stomachs as they greet the girl and attempt to make her night a little more merry.

The adults, in proper pure-blood manners, do not hesitate to greet their hosts as the children with them move to greet the doll.

As one Henri Duval gives his thanks to the LeDames Matriarchs with his parents and his wife, he sees a flicker of white hair and a dress disappearing around a doorway behind the thrones the women sit in. As a French visitor of the LeDames Winter Ball at least once before, he knows that if he follows the white ghost into the hallway, he will find a young lady, maybe a year or two younger than Emmiline (EmmaLee) who will offer him a handkerchief and must be returned to her grandmothers.

Similarly, Henri's keen-eyed daughter, Aurélie Duval, even distracted by her shyness and her conversation with her older friend, will catch a ruffle in the curtains across from her and a slight giggle among the music. Throwing aside the curtain will reveal a much younger member of the LeDames family, who must also be returned to her grandmothers, paying for the kindness with a handkerchief.

Once returned to the Matriarchs, the girls will take places on either side of EmmaLee's chair and watch the scene with excitement, knowing that the quicker their "sisters" are found, the quicker they can join the party, as well.

As the flow of guests through the doors from the outside begins to dwindle, a circle naturally forms in the north corner near the door and a rousing game of The Matriarch's C at begins. As the game begins, the players are careful not to speak over the music and disrupt the elegant dance going on behind them, but every once in a while a shout of joy and polite clapping or anguish can be heard as a player finds a particularly good adjective for their lady's cat or cannot seem to name an appropriate quality and must bow out until the next game.

Speaking of dancers, the Le Changement De Dames looks perfectly choreographed as partners dance and chatter as they do. The dancefloor is comprised of mostly middle-aged couples, but a younger pair or two and some grey-haired elders who are still light on their feet can be seen swirling around the golden square as if they had trained their whole lives for this.

Once the party had a good swing going to it, Genvieve LeDames stood, stepped forward next to EmmaLee, and clapped her hands for attention. Probably magic caused the delicate clapping to reverberate around the hall, causing everyone within the room to stop and quietly turn to the youngest Matriarch.

"Thank you all for coming. Our family especially appreciates those who have traveled exceptionally far to our humble home here in the mountains to welcome our dear Emmiline into our midst." The elder woman smiled and placed a hand on EmmaLee's opposite shoulder as EmmaLee stood from her chair and stepped next to her grandmother. "We are so excited to introduce Emmiline LeDames, daughter of Celeste, daughter of Genvieve, and she is very excited to meet you all, as well. Please do not hesitate to say hello to our darling."
Genvieve and EmmaLee dipped into identical curtsies, chins almost touching their chests as they bowed their snowy heads.
"Please enjoy the food and the festivities to your heart's desire." Genvieve said at last as she and her granddaughter stood from their bows. EmmaLee returned to her chair and turned back to speak to her contemporaries, as did Genvieve herself, signaling with a wave of her hand for the band to begin once more.

A few more moments of talking with her peers, and it was time for EmmaLee to join the dance floor. Thankfully, the first suitor to greet her would be a familiar face, that of Yasha Volkov, her tentmate and friend from summer camp. The tall Russian would lead her onto the dancefloor and seamlessly step them into the dance as if they had been there all along. Who knew the lanky, dark, now-fourteen-year-old actually knew what he was doing on a dancefloor?

ROUND ONE

Guest List

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@Aleksandra FairBairn @Yağmur Harrow @Jack Burnett as Ginyami Midorimori @Prat Pass Artorias Pass @Archer Duncan as Hans Jenssen Otto Schafer	@Ira Thornfield Apsara Thornfield Reginald Thornfield Ivy Thornfield @Ophelia Northwell as Aurélie Nathalie Duval Anaïs Océane Duval Henri Duval Augustin Duval Élodie Duval Yasha Volkov Olexi Volkov Alyona Volkov
>>>>	>>>>
@Opeila Winters Jarno Virtanen Hilja Virtanen Lysander Virtanen Annika Wehrle Matthias Ravensburg Alexandra Ravensburg Leopold Ravensburg Genevieve Ravensburg Malyen Ravensburg Dorian Crane	@Evpraksiya M. Y. Vinogradova Morozov V. Vinogradov Ekaterina Y. S. Vinogradova née De Beauharnais Nadezhda M. L. Vinogradova Tatiana M. I. Vinogradova Konstantin V. C. Vinogradov Stanislav V. O. Vinogradov Ludovic M. D. De Beauharnais Clémentine K. De Beauharnais Marguerite V. De Beauharnais Adélaïde M. C. De Beauharnais

There will be three different moderated events for this ball.
Please put somewhere at the bottom of your post whether your guests are playing The Matriarch's C at, on the dancefloor, or wandering the ball.
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO ROLEPLAY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR GUESTS (you can of course) BUT PLEASE TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE OR I WILL ASSUME THEY ARE ON THE DANCEFLOOR.
I will be posting "THE NARRATOR" every Saturday for 7 weeks. EmmaLee will interact as she needs to. :3

DANCING

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The dancefloor is not magical, you may enter or exit at your leisure, but it is a set dance.
A Le Changement De Dames (Exchange of Ladies) Waltz is a waltz where partners are changed during the song or during the transition between songs.
Description: https://www.libraryofdance.org/dances/e ... -partners/
Video Example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S02fo0PLibE

Those who are on the dance floor will be switching partners but this is not a fast dance. The point is to have time for conversation. There will be seven changes.
OOC partners will switch every Saturday.
IC partners will switch as one song turns to another.
EmmaLee and her suitors will be force paired according to her dance card, everyone else will be paired via randomization.

PAIRS

EmmaLee LeDames | Yasha Volkov
@Ira Thornfield | Olexi Volkov
Alonya Volkov | Otto Schafer (@Archer Duncan)

THE MATRIARCH'S CAT

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This is an old, Victorian era parlor game.

Players go through the alphabet saying an adjective about the cat. The Matriarch's cat is Adorable, Beautiful, Callous, Daring, and so on until you reach Z and then start over.
Once everyone has gone once, the circle swaps places, and play continues with the last letter. You cannot repeat an adjective throughout the whole game.

For ease of roleplay, I will make a randomized list of player order and then also randomize who is able to come up with an adjective and who fails to think of a new one and post it with each moderation.
You may add whatever spice you like to your guest's pass or fail. (Ex: You can decide whether they can't come up with one or they repeat a previously said adjective)

No Players this round

BEWARE THE WHITE WOMEN

EVERYONE IS PLAYING THIS GAME
Whether intentionally or unintentionally.

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All of the French guests, who have been here before, have an advantage because they know that there is a secret game being played.
Anyone who is actively searching gets ANOTHER advantage.

There are SEVEN LeDames girls hiding around the ball.
Each girl has long, loose, white hair and is wearing a simple white dress and no shoes.
If you find one of the girls, they will give you a white handkerchief and you will need to bring her the Matriarchs seated at the head of the hall.
Some of the girls are actively hiding and some are right under your nose.
You may use spells (that are in your trunk) and other clever means to find them.

OOC: Each person who finds one of the girls will get a chocolate frog at the end of the ball. The person who finds the most will get two chocolate frogs for every girl they found.
IC: The person who finds the most girls when all are found will get a Black Forest Cake baked by EmmaLee. Usually, her aunt, Genvieve's Second daughter, LaLune makes the cake.

White Women Found

1. Charlotte (Soliel's Second Daughter) by Aurélie Nathalie Duval (@Ophelia Northwell)
2. Anthonia (Soliel's First Daughter) by Henri Duval (@Ophelia Northwell)

@AngelFyre McCubbin