Wonderland Waltz 2026 Spring Ball

Mathias did not look back at the shattered glass. The glorious heir didn't need to. The sound alone was enough: sharp, final, inconsequential. Like punctuation at the end of a sentence no one important was ever going to read. Pride was aware something broke, there were 'people' (house elves) to manage whatever mess it left.

Mathias' wife, Winnie's hand slipped into his, and Pride allowed it. Not because he needed it, but because he liked it. The difference mattered. "Late?" Mathias echoed, glancing down at Winnie, she had stopped getting taller five years ago it seemed, with a faint, amused curl of his mouth. "No, I arrived exactly when I intended to." Early, late, not at all, the world revolved around him and Matt was aware of it. His thumb brushed once, idly, over Winnie's knuckles as if that settled the matter. It did, as far as the Athanatos heir was concerned.

His wife's comment about the first years earned a quiet exhale through his nose. The sound was something between a laugh and dismissal. She was quaint for reserving so much of her attention on them. "If they insist on placing themselves in my path, then I will assume they're volunteering for the experience," he replied smoothly. "Consider it… educational," Matt shrugged his shoulders, "or their kink." Who was he to disapoint?

His gaze flicked, briefly, toward the retreating figure of the boy who had stumbled into him. The child had already disappeared into the crowd, but Mathias’ attention lingered a fraction too long in that direction, as if committing something unimportant to memory anyway. What a waste of space. "Besides," Matt added, "they should learn early. The world does not move around them," it moved around him. "It never will."

Mathias let Winnie guide him a few steps, though it was less led and more a mutual drift, his presence bending the space around them regardless. Pride's eyes tracked the direction his wife angled them toward, landing easily on his half-brother Aamon across the room.

"Of course, the family idiot had to make a token appearance. His girlfriend Nabi looked weird, haircut?" Frankly the fact he thought of them at all was a testament to his kindness.

Then, a flicker of movement near his side. Face to ass impact or a close enough approximation, comparatively the heir stood well over six feet and the first year a bit under 5 feet. Mathias didn't even need to look to know what it was. He already knew it was another body, another smaller, careless something. This one collided with him just enough to be irritating. What did he just say about kinks? Nevermind

Mathias he turned his head and dropped his gaze to the boy, Milo. Not that he knew the name, recognized the face from the halls, from the proximity of a shared house. Rather, his hazel eyes lingered on the first year in silence just long enough to make the apology feel insufficient before it had even fully left the boy's mouth.

"You didn't see me," Mathias repeated, his voice hovered on a tone someplace between indifference and boredom. He was basically a pillar in comparison. "That's not the defense you think it is." The Athanatos' eyes dragged, unhurried, over the Milo’s appearance: the plain shirt, the effort that almost passed for acceptable at a picnic maybe, before returning to his face. He was unimportant even at his best, lacking a recognizable face, the means for even feigned wealth or indulgence, and lacking in power or station to change any of the former facts about himself.

"If you’re going to exist in rooms like this," Mathias continued, "learn to look at what matters." For surely he was the most merciful here.

Note: Thoughts, Speech

She could have stayed in her dormitory.

Wondering between ink and parchment as the seconds tapped away beneath her fingertips. The air too still, the waters unclear. Fog too thick to breathe without coughing up the ashes of frustration.

The chair would screech as she suddenly stood up and grabbed the first thing in her tall wardrobe, a rich, velvet-red dress with silver accents, her hair loose as it reached her hip. Perhaps too minimalistic for the night, but Nabi never liked... ruffles. Flutters that sought to catch the light beneath the candlelight were never her thing, hm... her reflection would look back at her, the cape sleeves pooling onto the floor at her feet.

Something was missing.

Her head tilted to the side, gaze shifting to her right.

The weight of the soul...

The weight of the heart. Unspoken, left in its red velvet case waiting for morning to be worn beneath the cold collar of silence. Nabi walked over, her hand reaching out before picking up the hairpin beside the necklace Aamon had gifted her.

The black diopside stones were held with the silver around them.

Boram certainly knew her well.

Pinning some of her hair neatly back, she would fasten her usual jewel before putting on a pair of her heels.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Just a dance... she only needed a breath of fresh air.

Her heels would click before pausing at the ball's entrance, her gaze trailing around, "Perhaps I should have asked Mr. Campbell to join me tonight..." Nabi's strides were calm, walking further inside where she would spot the igniter of her frustration. Her gray eyes would look at him blankly, noticing his attention on another girl.

And I make no sense... her hand would subconsciously move to her touch where the necklace would usually hide beneath her uniform, only to feel her own skin. A curt hum would make her look away, forcing her attention elsewhere. Immediately catching the signature pink-doused lady Athanatos, standing with her husband.

Whatever his name was.

The young Winnie had mentioned it before, but the pain in her forearm was much too important to remember his name. Going with Aamon, one of the two elder brothers, made sense.

Speaking of...

Nabi looked around, wondering where the crazed prophet was. Sir Gideon... still had to explain why he asked her to meet at the forbidden forest. Unless he had hoped she would bear witness to the creature behind the soft pink smiles Winnie could blind anyone with.

Nabi would return her attention to Winnie before deciding to make her way over, stopping at a distance as if wary of any sudden movements. The lady had, after all, held her hand hostage that evening. "Good evening, Lady Athanatos..." Her gray eyes would flick towards her husband, giving him a slight nod, "Sir Athanatos." She would catch his words to the child nearby before humming curtly, glancing over to the soul in question before returning her attention to Winnie, "I see someone is already having issues." This is what you chose to marry?

@Novalie Moon

Alright! Harvey took a deep breath and let out a slow exhale as he adjusted his attitude. The smile on his lips was fake, but he was determined to make this a meaningful night. There were people to schmooze with, concessions to enjoy and any student who wanted to remain relevant within the social circles of Hogwarts couldn't waste away the evening being a gloomy wallflower. So, Harvey scanned the area. Familiar faces from Slytherin? Could be a comfortable start. Wizards and witches from foreign schools? The boy did have aspirations of being an international businessman. The more connections he made now the better. Harvey nodded to himself, made sure his clothes were straight and turned towards the food and beverage table...

Gods have mercy!

It was her again! Harvey's eyes popped as he took in the sight of her. He recognized her right away, but what on earth had she done to herself? Some green owl thing was attached to Novalie's shoulders and she had done something to her arms. They were massive! "Wha..." Harvey sputtered for a moment. He didn't know what was more ridiculous, her appearance or the complete butchery of his Goblin language. "No, it does not." His reply was cold and stern. "And this is not a costume party. Why must you be so absurd?" There was the slightest shrill to Harvey's tone, a hint of flush in the color of his cheeks.

The boy began to look around for an out. His breath coming just a bit quick and there was this nagging pinch in his chest that made him fidget for a moment. And Harvey did not fidget! What was it about this girl that unsettled him so? Of course she had transformed the lower half of his body into a tree trunk and then claimed to be his good friend. What kind of weirdo does that?! But there was something about her chaotic energy that he just could not handle even thought she was a talented witch. For all intents and purposes Novalie should have impressed him as he was drawn to the naturally talented, but he would of course blame it on her for his ill feelings. Really he was missing a chance at self reflection.

Harvey was a boy that thrived on control. It was apparent in his routines and rituals. It could be seen in social life and his academics. Yet there was something in his life that he had no control over and it was rattling him much more than he realized in this moment. So, the chaos that was Novalie Moon put a little chink in his armor. Further shook the foundation that had always been so strong. Harvey took a sharp breath as he was suddenly feeling a bit winded before he addressed her again. "Are you making fun of my language?" His dark and beady eyes searched Novalie for an answer!

@Paul Turner

Taylor let out a small, breathless sound at his question, the sound was something caught between a laugh and a tremor, as though the idea itself was absurd, but she did not have the luxury of finding it funny. It was a hard place to find vocally when she struggled to maintain the thickness of her supposed Slavic accent. "Celebrity?" She echoed softly, her accent thickening around the word, ensuring it sounded unfamiliar but barely understood and slightly mispronounced. Her lips curved faintly, apologetically. "Nyet…" she exhaled, self correcting. "No," that was the 'right English word,' "I am not so important."

The Russian's fingers tightened, just slightly, around his sleeve again, as if she needed the reassurance that he was still there. That somehow a first-year stranger could be a source of comfort. Then her pale eyes flicked over his shoulder. Something quick, sharp, gone.

"Escaping..." she hesitated, "maybe hiding." Like she did not know how to explain, like the words themselves felt too heavy to say aloud. Taylor's voice dropped lower, as if she was admitting something she feared being overheard when in truth it was the opposite. "Giddy," but she pronounced the man's name 'Geedy'. The name lingered there, uncertain.

Her expression shifted, not dramatically, never that. Over-expression tells more truths than a detailed account of events, because intention is rarely recorded in the annals of history. It was a softer expression. Fear, yes, but not the kind one has for strangers. Something more complicated. More dangerous and lived. Something that has been simmering for a long time and was finally reaching a boil.

"He is mad," Taylor added quickly, almost to smooth it over, like she was making excuses for something she should not excuse. No, she used the word wrong. He was not angry, he has lost his mind. But anger could work too. No, insanity, a lack of reliability is so much worse that a flared temper. "I need to hide," she added.

"You see him, you must not listen, da?" she whispered urgently. "He will speak soft, like he is good boy. Like I am silly girl making drama." A weak, almost self-conscious smile flickered. "He is very good at this."

Taylor's gaze returned to Paul then, blue eyes wide, searching his face as if trying to decide whether he was safe. "You are kind, yes?" she asked quietly, tilting her head just slightly. Her shoulder-length blond hair swayed slightly. "You would not… let something bad happen, yes?"

There it was again, that faint, almost imperceptible glance over his shoulder. As if she might have seen something or was afraid to see something. The look was longer this time. Enough to make him want to look if she played the scene right. There or not, it did not matter when searching was the point all along. Regardless, it was enough to plant something. "Or-or," she added, threading anxiety and uncertainty into her tone. "Just stay with me, da? For little moment. Talk to me. Laugh maybe." Her lips twitched into a small, hopeful smile that didn't quite hold. "If I look… busy," a first year was far from intimidating but that was the point, "he may not come close."

"And if he," this 'Geedy,' "asks…" Taylor added, softer still, "you say you know me. That we are long friends." Her hand loosened on his sleeve, but did not let go completely. "…Please."

<sub>As their feet swiftly moved through the eloquent music, Angel softly smiled a bit. The boy seemed hesitant, atleast worried she might've been afraid or maybe she was going to far with the acting poise thing,but of course overthinking won't do it so she just smoothly went back to the present where she should be. The name was Aamon, it sounded rich much more exotic in a way, brushing off how he didn't really gave his last name it was fine with Angel, just the first was enough. Aamon looked very well put, his face all together looked lovely as well.

"What a rich name you have, my name's Angel. Angel Dayes." she said with a swiss in her voice.

Looking up at him he really looks kind but rich in a way she couldn't mistaken can't place a finger on it but perhaps she'll figure it out herself, it was him to know and for her to guess. The feeling of eyes gazing upon her, but everyone here was looking at each other, holding her laugh but her dreamy eyes could not hide what she was feeling, softening them still her eyes showed aloofness but not airy.

Twirling and stamps of shoes in the hard gable checkered floors Angel noticed how beautiful it was, the event organizers really outdid themselves. Her eyes met Aamon, who really was soft spoken,again she didn't mind at all. Angel's senses can be filled all at once, as far as being enchanted by how time was warped, but at her best she can tell it was around early evening.

In her line of sight she can see the many people in the courtyard, what was once a quiet area turned to a royal ball, of course exaggerated much. Her words couldn't be any more true it did look like a party in Versailles. As she spun around she saw many people wearing clothes that wouldn't had been worn daily for this was a special occasion. Others were waltzing along the warm but not too bright chandelier, with beautiful patterns that looked vintage. Angel loved events like these but yet again, she was quiet and often sometimes feel like she had to keep up with the others who can party and prance all night, with him as someone new it felt like a clean slate.

Hearing the smooth coating jazz that shaped the evening for the rest of the ball. Conversations left right and center, all at once, Angel had to close her eyes for a bit to soak it all in. Never had she thought she'd be attending or even seizing the fancy night, looking up slightly she could see how pretty the vast sky looked, dressed in navy blue as it sparkled for everyone to see. Friends chatting, catching up on the many days missed which turned to weeks, months then eventually years and once again reunited in a unusual place where they never expected to see each other. Couples or as Angel would call them "Sweethearts' laughing messing up the steps or either being amused by how ridiculously the night had become so swell. As for Angel, she could hear her own heels clamping against the cold outdoors, impressed how she moved with easy, she probably had a knack for dancing or for a waltz.

Now immediately she can smell the dark rich aroma of the trees as they swayed gracefully they were dancing along. The food which was plentiful paired with dessert that smelled like velvet and dark chocolate, with the spice of the air quickly brushing like a paint brush to add the final touch. Angel's fragrance the scent that was carried was soft yet oriental, carrying a sharp cedar touch but never overbearing. Noticing his face it seems like he was taken aback by her looks, in a good way of course. Angel carrying herself with poise decided to hold a conversation.

Angel with her voice trailing like a melody that was light yet angelic. Her voice was naturally deep very much crisp.

"Are you on any sports team? I decided on duelling." she quipped clear and slow. For someone like her who has ever known being in the countryside was naturally at displaying elegance. Would she have the resolve to even tell him about her other half? It seemed pointless he could've known already but it was a shot in the dark and she needed to pull herself together and continue the momentum.

"You know a lot of people in the Slytherin house come from high status families, but I as someone who isn't--" pausing herself before continuing on, looked down but her demeanor straight and poised cleared her throat and swiftly fixed herself.

"I as someone who does not come from such a family I feel out of place. But I don't know much about my other side, so to tell you the truth I am a half breed." biting her lip softly as she looked away from Aamon for awhile, then met his gaze again this time her nerves won't get to her anymore.

"My family, well my Dad's side of the family has a vampire lineage, and I am a Dhampir." she says

"If you can already guess it is why I have the physical traits I have right now. I hope you are not shaken by this." Angel added on with a almost sincere and modest tone. Many others have wondered why she looked so peculiar but in a good way they would always add. Aamon looked like a honest guy, atleast he looked like one she can't judge yet. Was he the same as her? Being confused of where he stands in his family?

"Do you also have a hard time with knowing where you stand? Where your place is? That you don't really fit in any box?" Angel asked slowly.

"Sometimes I'm scared of knowing more about my own history especially if it'll ever change me."

Silence filled the space but for the rest it was just as loud for them but for her it wasn't the silence that was deafening but much like calming like she was contented. Maybe one day she wouldn't have to be so hesitant on explaining what her history is, that she wouldn't need to fill in any gaps or blanks in her head no more.</sub>

| | | | | | | |

mentions. @Lachlan Cassidy notes. open to other interaction song. Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight by the beatles posessions. heart locket, clutch bag, handkerchief the dazzling ball.

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

he smell of perfume and cologne danced its way into Jrue's nose as she stepped out into the Courtyard of the castle, gazing at the decorations and the flowers and the blossoms that rose out as it out of nowhere, the magic and mystique of the building adding to the effect. Jrue's breath hitched softly as she watched the delightful scene unfolding in front of her. Students from Hogwarts and the surrounding schools had already filled the courtyard, mingling and laughing and dancing around each other, individually encapsulated in the moment. She spotted many of her fellow Hufflepuffs, all wearing gorgeous ball gowns and formal robes to suit themselves. She felt glee to see all of her classmates so happy.

She made a beeline for the punch, eyeing the gazebo. A safe haven- she blinked, holding a delicate hand around her glass as she picked up the skirt of her dress. It flowed around her feet and draped down her hips, bringing out the lovely light color of her hair and skin. The flowers fluttered about her, petals landing beneath her feet as she swept herself to a bench by the gazebo. The music was enchanting, beckoning her to join the dance. She shook her head. She couldn't- right? As prefect she had to maintain decorum. If she danced- God, she could lose her position!

She tapped her fingers on the side of the glass, the ribbon on her chest nearly falling over the rim. She set the glass down on the bench beside her, fiddling the dress appendage around her finger lightly. Of all of the things she could have done today, she found herself here. She could be doing homework, she could be painting her nails, or.. anything else! And yet she was watching students dance and mingle and corroborate together, while she sat on the sidelines. "Oh, this pity party is pathetic.." Jrue dropped the ribbon and watched it bounce down into it's resting place before picking up the glass and taking another sip.

She moved underneath the gazebo, nearly tripping over her dress as she did. The flowers and lights dappled about the walls. The smell of the flowers was refreshing- sweet and aromatic in the fresh air of the night. Though she may have been by herself, it was admittedly lovely. It truly was a wonderland she was immersed in.

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

Reducio Mentions: @Rosalyn Willows @Laurie Holmes @Zephyr Deakin WC: 281 OOC:

Reducio Stats: Stamina 6 Evasion 10 Strength 5 Wisdom 8 Arcpower 6 Accuracy 8

“Yeah, it’s great!” Felix answered her a moment late, too busy looking around to care much. There were lights everywhere. Wow.
While he hadn't originally been planning to come to this, it looked cool so far. Whoever set it up had gone all-out, and the theme was certainly interesting. Were those roses changing colours? Looked like it.

He also spotted a few people he knew, which wasn't a surprise, considering how many students had attended. Probably half the school was here (or, at least, it looked like it). Maybe he'd go say hello later, when everyone had settled in a bit more.
It was fairly busy, but he didn’t mind it too much, since there was still enough space to avoid being crowded, and he wasn't on his own either (Rosalyn was still standing next to him).

Speaking of Rosalyn, she'd excused herself, presumably to go help the girl sitting a little ways away. The girl looked upset? She also seemed familiar, but he couldn’t fully see her face from where he was standing, so he wasn't sure.

When she returned, he turned back to her, prepared to answer her question this time.
However, he didn’t get more than a word out before before she was running off again (a fairly common occurrence with her, but still a little surprising), and Felix hurried after her.

This time she was off to greet someone new. A fellow first year, from the looks of it, and ‘Windy’ she’d said. Suppose Rosalyn just had a penchant for goofy nicknames (he'd definitely like to know where that name came from).

Anyways, Rosalyn seemed happy to see this guy, so he was probably cool.

x

Interacting with: Reducio @Bree Grey, @Milo Hartman

Mentions: Reducio @Rosalyn Willows , @Mathias Athanatos @Tina Carille @Felix Hawthorn, @Tes Cadell

Outfit: Reducio

OOC Note: Reducio Sorry for the end, I wanted to cause some drama

Stats: Reducio Spring Ball

Action: Reducio N/A

Wc: Reducio 540 words

L A U R I E

No. This couldn’t be happening now. Gosh, why did everything in her life always have to happen at the worst moments? It almost seemed like a policy for every event in her life at this rate. She took deep breaths in and exhaled. No, that wasn’t working. Well, it’s not like anyone cared. Or did they? That was an answer she could never be certain of. Often times it would be the first. Most. She traced the designs down her dress, focusing on something else helped her to breathe. The flowers…Tina. Wait, why was she thinking of that mentally unstable child? The labyrinth was over wasn’t it? And it wasn’t that good to have more grudges, she already had more than she could count. She had more enemies than friends, that wasn’t new. It had always been that way. Suddenly, she noticed a girl walking up to her, looking absolutely stunning, but Laurie wasn’t able to comprehend her fully. “Hi there! I'm Rosie, and I'm here to help. Take my hands, and when I raise mine up, take a breath. Let it out when the hands go down. Ready?” If Laurie was in her senses, she would have probably made a comment about how stupid she sounded. But she wasn’t. And right now, the girl seemed like the best person in the world. At least she cared. Maybe she went through it too. Laurie stood up, instantly feeling better. “Thank you. So much.” She hugged her back, something she wasn’t accustomed to doing. The girl then walked off to talk to a guy with red hair. Hold on a moment. Wasn’t that….Felix? From the labyrinth! The hippie strikes again. However, she actually found his red hair cool now. That was surprising. She remembered when she was in the Common room, in a good mood and yapping away. She was definitely talking about the Spring Ball, that much was clear. That was when she met Milo. He seemed nervous, maybe he didn’t have that many friends. When she was yapping about the Ball, he responded with “Yeah. I’m going too.” Somehow, Laurie had actually made an acquaintance. That night still embarassed her. The others would say, “You shouldn’t be afraid to open up.” Well that was exactly what Laurie was, afraid. Afraid that she might trust blindly, and these people would be the ones to turn against her. The ones who’d stab her in the back. The ones who’d leave her regretting she was ever born. But perhaps she was overthinking. Most people were kind at heart. Well of course, except for some, some referring to Terrible Engine Service Tes Cadell. Suddenly, she snapped out of her trance. It was Milo. He took long enough. “Hey Laurie, do you know who that is?” She followed Milo’s gaze to a tall sixth year. And also scary. “Yeah, that’s Mathias……Athanatos I think. Best stay out of his way. Don’t ever mess with him.” Now she had to wait for Bree. Where was that girl?

H O L M E S

"All right. Well, you look like one," uttered Paul, after Taylor told him she was not a celebrity. Meanwhile, he started to blush. "I mean, because of your... dress. It's so sparkling and pretty that you look like a princess." Oh, come on. You look like a princess? Who even says that these days? Paulito, you really need to work on making compliments. Thought the boy reproachfully, lifting his the hand with the wand to his head uneasily and scratching the skin behind his ear with the tip of the magical piece of wood, oblivious about any disrespect that gesture might have shown.

Afterwards, he just continued to listen to her explanation of who the guy she was hiding from was. Geedy... Gilderoy? Gideon. Gerard. Although the last one would have been Geddy. Or Jedi, just like you.

"By the way, I'm Jedi." Fortunately, Paul realized his mistake sooner than later. His eyes widened with terror, and he quickly put his hand to lips, shaking his head frantically. Likely to fix his mistake. "Huh... not a Jedi, just a wizard! What I meant to say, is that I'm Paul. From Gryffindor. Pleasure on my side." He released his grip on her hand, for she wasn't in a risk of falling anymore, and grasped his wand with his other hand, not hiding it in the case yet. His free hand, he stretched towards Taylor, in order to shake hers.

"He is mad,"

went on Taylor, and Paul narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Then why is he not in a mental hospital?" Asked the boy a question which made perfect sense to him. If Geedy is crazy, then he shouldn't be among the sane, right? Taylor said she needed to hide. Well, that shouldn't be a problem among so many people. And then, she said something about not listening to the guy.

"W-wait a second." Did he rise his palm, trying to stop her speech, to be able to comprehend the situation outlined by the blond whose dress he liked a lot. It reminded him of Frozen, the film. And there couldn't be anything wrong with a person who wore a dress similar to Elsa's.

"You would not… let something bad happen, yes?"

"So, you're hunted by some stalker, who's crazy and who wants to do something bad to you." Summarized the boy, looking straight into her eyes with his serious, but honest gaze. "And if he finds you... us, he'll try to suggest you're the crazy one."

Well, this is a tough nut to crack. How am I supposed to know which one of them is the crazy one? What if this Geedy is... like, a Minister for Magic, or someone similarly respectable? Who do I trust then? Paul's mind started preoccupying itself with the dilemma.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I cannot protect you. I'm still quite new to... this whole magic thingy, ya know." Hummed the boy, looking sad and guilty, due to it.
As Taylor repeatedly looked somewhere behind him, Paul had to look there too, naturally. It wouldn't have been Paul if he didn't check what the axiom of her interest was. So he turned around.

"If I look… busy,"

Suggested the girl. Poor Turner couldn't do otherwise than sigh. "Uhm... yeah. I can do that, I suppose. Though I don't know if I can make you laugh. I'm not that funny." He paused for a moment, breathing in and, again, blushing. "But I know a few jokes. For example, do you want to play frost?"

With his last sentence, he finally produced his iconic, mischievous crooked smile, or a smirk - call it as you may.