Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

Well, tonight was the secret Blossom Ball. Originally having no plans to attend, Tyr felt she had been a tad bit forced into attending. Not only did her friend Opeila, a fellow first year seer who had reached out about starting a club for the seers on campus, ask her to attend after a group of Slytherins met to discuss the ball, she also felt obligated to check out the ball to see if that Gryffindor girl would attend. After that day when she met her and saw her death in the girls crystal ball, Tyranni had been keeping a careful eye on her. She wasn't going to simply let the girl go off and get herself killed. If rumors of past Hogwarts events, and what she heard about the Masquerade were commonplace here, the Blossom Ball was sure to go down in flames as yet another disastrous evening, and surely that meant increased risk that the Lion might die tonight.

She walked alone to the pitch, already in her outfit. Although it was suggested that guests arrive in normal clothing and change into their formal attire in the changing rooms, she felt that was unnecessary for herself. Her outfit did not scream 'I'm headed to a secret ball!' She wore a simple white dress that was longer in the back, with a high collar and long sleeves. Underneath she wore black legging-like pants that would allow her to keep her movement and run without being confined by the bulk of a large dress. Her hair was pulled back into a half-do, with braids abundant, reminiscent of her Nordic bloodlines hairstyles from the Viking era. She did make a brief stop at the changing rooms to apply the traditional face paint of her mothers ancestors. Tracing the lines across her face, she looked around to see others getting ready. So many had such extravagant outfits. Did they not realize this was probably going to end up in flames?

In the belt of her dress, she kept her wand, not that it mattered. She was dreadful at spells so far. This summer would be her time to practice her skills. She would have preferred to take her bo staff with, but she figured one of the brooms would serve the same purpose should the need arise. Hidden by both sleeves of her dress were to small blades, ready to be released into her grip should the need arise. If there was one thing she had learned growing up, it was fighting skills.

She walked into the pitch, through the suits of armor to see the decorations. It really was magnificent. She had to give kudos to those who planned the event. Not many students had arrived yet. She glanced around and found Opeila. There was another Slytherin girl standing next to her that she wasn't familiar with yet. Debating about hanging back until the other girl left, she could see that anxiety on Opeila's face and decided to approach the girls.

"Hey Opeila. Is your date here yet?" She smiled as she approached the girl, attempting to radiate calming energy towards her. "I haven't seen any of the others yet either. You look beautiful though!" She really did not want to be here. Already she could feel her anxiety about the event climbing. Likely not as high as Opeila's was yet, she knew that as more people arrived and the energy changed, it would be unpleasant.

Tyranni looked at the other girl, dipping her head down while introducing herself. "And hello ...?" She waited for the other girl to introduce herself.

Interacting with: @Opeila Seilun | @Kara Capricorn
Mentioning: @Aurelia Notrésvace

Interacting with @Willow Anderson
Open to Interaction

Outfit
Top

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Jeans

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Shoes

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Flowers through top button hole and given to Willow

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Having been invited to a Secret Blossom Ball by Willow had immediately sounded like a bad idea to Ruka. He'd been to part of last year's official Ball and for what he'd stayed for it had already been enough of a disaster. A student organised rip off? Probably even worse.
Still, April was supposed to be devoted fully to things that might turn out to be good for his mental and physical health, and spending a night among people, some nice music and good food... Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt that much to just stop by for a little bit. Anyway, Willow had looked so hopeful when she had handed him her painting and asked him to come with her - as a friend, just to get to know each other better - that he would have felt terrible brushing her off.

So as the evening of the Ball arrived, Ruka had gotten dressed for it ahead of time; Putting on a green waistcoat over a white shirt seemed unsuspecting enough to him, especially paired with a pair of grey jeans and casual green shoes. He didn't think it would look suspicious to anybody - Some students around the castle were far more pretentious than that in their fashion sense, so he felt quite confident in not drawing any attention to himself as he left his dorm after dinner, making his way down to the Grounds. There were already a few students making their way towards the Quidditch Pitch in pairs and small groups, but that wasn't Ruka's destination just yet.

No, instead he roamed the Grounds for a little while, smiling as he finally found something that caught his eye with its vibrant colours. In the midst of a field of newly blossomed flowers there were some specks of red that he felt would contrast the green of his own outfit and hopefully look good with whatever Willow had decided to wear too. It had occurred to him far too late, that other people tried to coordinate their outfit with the person they were going to the Ball with, but he also assumed that, considering they were only going as friends, there was no need to be matching.

Picking a few of the flowers, he pulled a couple of them through the top button hole of his waistcoat before making his way back to the castle entrance. He was a few minutes late, so it was no surprise that Willow was already waiting for him, still dressed in comfy day clothes and looking more excited than Ruka thought he had ever seen her; She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, her face lighting up even more as she saw him approaching.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologised sheepishly as he came close, holding out the hand that was carefully carrying the flowers he had picked. "Still needed to get this for you." With a little smile he gestured for consent to weave the flowers into Willow's hair, and once she gave it he did so carefully, stepping away to check how it looked. "Very pretty," he commented genuinely before starting to lead the excited Hufflepuff girl down to the Quidditch Pitch.

It was easy to follow a group of people to the right entrance, and Ruka took the time it took for Willow to change out of the clothes she'd been wearing over her dress to take in the decorations. There were candles surrounded by what looked like shiny glass bubbles floating through the corridor he was waiting in, and some flowers to his left and right, but all in all it had been kept relatively simple. Ruka assumed that whoever had taken care of the decorations had rightfully decided that changing rooms were the least important areas to take care of.

Once Willow had returned, they walked out onto the actual pitch, the floating candles were still illuminating the area. To his right he could see differently coloured flowers which seemed to be free to take for whatever reason, but considering he already had his own freshly picked ones decorating his outfit he didn't really waste a second look on them. Straight ahead of them was a checked dance floor as well as a slightly elevated stage housing what appeared to be an orchestra consisting solely of students.

To their left and their right were tables that looked light they had been pulled right out of a fairytale, and Ruka had to admit that whoever had organised this event had done a terrific job. He momentarily wondered how they had managed to put all of this together in such a short time and without drawing the attention of any teachers or prefects, but he quickly decided not to question it. Tonight was supposed to be enjoyable, and over-thinking every detail wasn't going to help him in doing that.

"Let's get a table?" he asked Willow with a smile, carefully taking her hand to lead her to the left side of the dance floor, finding a table at the back, close to the tables housing food and drink. There were snacks like cupcakes, tiny burger sliders, a variety of finger foods, and filled goblets with what Ruka assumed were different types of juice, maybe water as well, but he would have needed to get a closer look to be sure.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" he asked a little awkwardly as they sat down, a hand coming up to ruffled his own hair, which he realised belatedly just made him look a bit untidy. "I can get us something. I think they might have pumpkin juice." He shrugged lightly, looking over his shoulder to let his gaze drift across the selection of food and drink "I'm still pretty full from dinner, but I could do with something to drink."

Laura Tann-Dee had made several bad choices in her life, but her outfit choices for parties during her time at Hogwarts did not fall under that category. She always made sure she looked amazing and naturally, she wanted her young daughter to carry on that tradition. From the moment Maria got her Acceptance Letter, her mother had already planned at least three of her ball outfits. She took her favorite gowns and had them made to fit her daughter. Said daughter didn’t exactly share her sentiments, as the young witch gravitated more towards comfortable and- dare her mother say it - casual clothing choices. But, she couldn’t bear to send her daughter to Hogwarts without a decent ball outfit, so those were the first thing packed in her trunk, along with some wedged heels.

That is how Maria found herself dressed in a gown and shoes her mother chose for her. She had heard several students talking about this secret ball, and she knew her mother would never let her live it down if an opportunity to wear her dresses arose and she didn’t take it. The dress the younger badger chose for this occasion was a halter neck with flowers printed on the top, and a long, white tulle skirt. It wasn’t exactly what Maria considered her style, but it was the one she had the least trouble walking in. She also had a pair of black wedges on, the only formal shoes her mother packed for her. It was easy enough to hide her outfit in one of the secret little alcoves she found outside the castle, where also changed before coming here. She had even brushed her hair and applied the lip stain her mother made her bring. The one thing that didn’t quite match, however, was her trusty satchel. Much smaller than her usual messenger bag(which she had left in her hiding spot) she brought it to put her wand and a small mirror in. She was sure her mother would have her head on a pike if she saw her now, but the young witch decided that what she didn’t know won’t hurt her.

A breeze swept by that made the hair on Maria’s exposed arms stand. It was a little after dinner, and she could see a few students had started migrating to the Quidditch Pitch. Before she entered, she stood to one side and took in the set-up. It was as if Frances Hodgson Burnett’s Secret Garden had spilled into the the area. Lights in the form of candles in bubbles floated about the Pitch and several plants lined the place. There were tables for eating and sitting and tables lined with food. A dance floor and performance area was also open, all bathed in the warm lights of the candles.

She took a yellow ribbon from the people in front before she made her way to a table near the entrance and took her seat. Honestly she had no expectations as to what this ball would entail, heck, she didn’t even have a date. “This could be fun.” She thought. “Or it could end in total disaster.” Came the afterthought. From the stories she had heard about the last balls, this could turn sour very quickly, or it could go perfectly normal and just be a good night. With an exhale, she crossed her fingers and hoped she was just being paranoid.

Open to Interactions
Arriving Pre-Dressed

These days, Alexx wasn't one for balls or other forms of social gatherings, but her job called her to them anyway. Regardless of how much she wanted to stay in her dorms, she found herself indulging in yet another... Scenario, as if she hadn't learned her lesson the first time. The first few times. Even after what had happened to Slytherin, one would thing that she would be repelled by any situation that had been, historically, known to go wrong. The Hogwarts norm was all injuries and fire, and people were beginning to catch on. Alexx had a few conspiracies herself, but they could only be potentially confirmed by throwing herself into danger.

Clad in her jumpsuit, the most inconspicuous of evening attire, Alexx made her way to the ever-familiar Quidditch pitch, only after hearing whisperings of such a gathering from her very reliable sources, which she managed to keep via the Headliner. She had to at least see for herself, even if she should decide to turn right back around and return to her dormitories. Of course, there were better outfits to be making appearances in, but Alexx was advised to remain under the radar, and she didn't feel like hauling a dress to and from the Quidditch pitch, nor did she feel like fighting anyone in one. Not after the Masquerade Ball, which proved to be very uncomfortable in the long run.

Alexx came alone, as well. She had no intention of dragging anyone along with her, but now that she was thinking of it, having Scott here, a very trusted member of the Headliner, would have been comforting. Still, these days, Alexx was a loner. Friends were not a necessity, and they came in small doses, if at all. Instead, it was acquaintances that approached her, and nothing more. She was fine with this.

Standing far off to the edge of the field, she looked around for anyone she knew, and was able to spot who she believed to be a few people who she had seen before, perhaps interacted with, but no one caught her eye in particular. And why would anyone want to approach her, anyway? She was waiting for someone, anyone, to make the wrong move, so that she could write a front-page article about it. Anyone who read the Headliner knew very well what her intentions were, or could at least infer that. There was no reason to trust her.

Jumpsuit
Shoes
Hair
Earrings
Locket
Broom : Moontrimmer

Walked down in outfit but covered with a long coat.

Lizzie looked down at her feet while wiping her hands on her blue dress. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It wasn’t big night. She didn't even have a date. Lizzie has decided to go with her best friend @Cassandra Ironwoods instead.

The ravenclaw stood at the sidebar of the pitch in her plain cream flats while her coat was lying in the ground next to her. Her dress was a royal blue that her mother had picked out. Lizzie was moaning happen at how short it was but went along with wearing it anyway. She had even put some flowers in her hair to finish it all off.

She lifted her head and crossed her arms out of being cold. She scanned her eyes around the pitch to try find the brunette.

Lizzie finally noticed where Cassie was. She was walking down to the Pictish in normal clothes with a bag in her hand. Obviously, it was her dress (or suit no discrimination) in the bag.

She smiled and waved at Cassie. She knew she would have to wait while Cassie was getting dressed.

Lizzie picked up her coat and draped it over her arm. She walked over to the entrance of the girl she changing rooms.

Leaning on the ‘wall’ type thing She crossed her arms and watched as every girl walked out.

After around twenty minutes, Cassie walked out and smiled at Lizzie and walked to her side.

“Hi Cassie. That looks really nice on you."Lizzie looked at what she was wearing and noticed it complimented her figure nicely.

“So... what do you want to do?” She asked, “Get some food or dance?” Lizzie loved food and dancing so it didn’t really matter what’s Cassie chose. I’m sure we will have lots of fun as friends.

God mode allowed by @Cassandra Ironwoods

Mentions @Cassandra Ironwoods
Interactions open(just please remember to tag me)

presentation as basic as possible because done on mobile. Next posts will be better.

If you had asked Calanthe if she was attending the secret Blossom Ball when the rumour had first began spreading, she would have resoundingly denied any plans of attending… not before attempting to hiss at you, though. But as the day drew nearer, the young witch found herself becoming increasingly bored of hiding away under her blankets. The only time she felt free was during her midnight excursions around the castle, but even these made her feel… hm, what’s the right word for it? Caged? No, not at all. Sad? Something like that, but it’s too vague. Lonely? Ah yes, there it is. Even the encounter with one @Klaus Sohn earlier that month had done little to ease the longing in her bones.

So, on the 25th of April, just after dinner, Calanthe Choi found herself wandering towards the Quidditch Pitch. There was no beeline and the decision to head in that direction was not made immediately. The mood at dinner in the Great Hall was aggravating her, honestly. Giggles and whispers floated about the room, seemingly finding their home in Calanthe’s ears as she prepared to dig into her dinner while sitting, as usual, by herself. Before she could even take a bite of anything in front of her, she grew tired of the scores of students under the spell of the Blossom Ball. Slamming down her utensils and rattling a couple of strangers nearby, Calanthe stalked out of the Great Hall with plans to take a walk to clear her mind.

She tried as hard as she could to avoid looking in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch, but her eyes kept drifting over to the site of the secret ball, which looked to be deceivingly dark. To rid the thought of attending from her mind, Calanthe strolled to the other end of the castle, spending some time at the viaduct and the Entrance Courtyard, and even attempting to make her way down to the boathouse but turned straight back to the castle when she noticed shadows. They could have been harmless house elves, sure, but if she was caught by a professor, her “nightly privileges” would have to be kissed goodbye.

And so, Calanthe found herself back in the castle, where images of students in intentionally casual clothing departing to the Quidditch Pitch plagued her. It was not long before she grew anxious. The terrible feeling of FOMO found its way into her body, making her heart beat fast. Unable to repress the adrenaline pumping through her veins any longer, Calanthe decided to see just what all the excitement was about.

Making her way towards the pitch, following and being followed by groups of students, she was sure she would hate it. It was clear that as soon as she took in the egregious setting, she would turn on her heel just as she had done at the boathouse and make her way back to the dorm. Right?

As she neared the pitch, light within the site became more evident. Her eyes picked up on the pathway of candles that led into the changing rooms. She noted the crowd of girls getting ready, slipping into dresses and adorning their face with makeup. Calanthe wringed her nose at the sight, refusing to become entranced like she was at Madam Malkin’s during the Easter holidays. Despite this, her hands unconsciously found their way to her arms, wrapping around them in a futile attempt to conceal her own outfit. A dark red sweater paired with jeans and sneakers; she would definitely be the belle of the ball with this attire. But Calanthe had no formal wear, not even a single dress. She had not picked up anything in Madam Malkin’s, either.

Her heart began to beat faster. The thought of heading into the action without any sort of formal wear brought the anxiety back, but she mustered her best try at shoving the emotions down and pushed her way out of the changing rooms and into the main area.

Shit.

It was beautiful. Calanthe did not know where to look first. The setting was perfect. She assumed that the group of kids standing around the pitch being thanked for their hard work were the ones that planned this whole shebang and she had to admit, they did an amazing job.

No, they didn’t. This is all terrible. Totally hideous.

But her legs took her further into the pitch anyways. She noted the sign from the LGBTQIAP Club and picked up a red ribbon for Gryffindor. Settling on the fact that it was too cringy, she tossed the thing back into the box and swiped a boutonniere instead, though she did not pin it to her sweater. Instead, she kept it clasped tightly in her palm, ignoring the sharp prick of the fastener.

Hesitantly making her way further into the pitch, Calanthe’s eyes fell upon @Pericles Dralt whose face she had become familiar with despite never talking to him. He looked dashing in a stupendously knightly outfit. The sight contrasted with the image of him that Calanthe held in her mind: one of a major teacher’s pet. His attendance also interested Calanthe. She assumed he would be the first to run to tell the teachers. In the same vein, @Xailah Alptraum’s look impressed Calanthe. It was a get-up that she could imagine one of her character’s wearing in a game of D&D. The suave ensemble that Quidditch player @Alexx Séverin wore was also cool. It’s not like Calanthe paid attention to Quidditch though… not at all.

If this were a year ago, she would have been similarly oogling at @Lydia Cooper, @Atlas Reid, @Maria Dee and all the other girls clad in alluring dresses, but the Calanthe of the present could only scoff at the sight of them.

As her eyes gave the pitch another once-over, Calanthe suddenly became anxious again. She knew no one here and had no interest in making new friends tonight… so why did she come? Before she could make the decision to escape, a figure walked past her and headed up the stairs to the stands. This was @Sean Hearth, a first year that Calanthe recognized from her classes but, of course, had never talked to.

The Stands! I’ll just go there and hide out.

She made it one step before a loud cry came from her stomach. The thought of dinner had completely left her mind when she embarked on her walk, but now the feeling of hunger seeped its way into her stomach. Swivelling her head to find the food tables, Calanthe practically broke into a run to observe its contents. Satisfied with the selection, she placed the boutonniere between her lips to free her hand and began piling heaps of food into her arms. Once she was happy with her collection of mini burgers, fries and cupcakes, Calanthe looked at the drinks table. Grinning at the sight of bottles of Yoohoo, she grabbed two and tried balancing them on the pile of food occupying her hold. What resulted was a rather odd gait, bent at the waist on side and her neck elongated on the other as she tried to make her way towards the stairs to the stands.

TL:DR Calanthe goes to talk a walk to avoid the ball, fails, shows up at the ball in her casual clothes and takes more food than she should. It should be regarded as stealing with how much she takes ahah.

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Outfit: Dark red sweater, black jeans and dirty, white sneakers
Mood: Perpetually pissed... also, hungry
To whoever drew that map of the pitch: You're amazing!

Open to Interaction!
Blake's Outfit:

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Walked down in Dress Clothes

"Blake come on lets go! Stop playin wit yer belt," The strained and hushed female voice hissed in the gathering twilight. Standing dutifully outside the change rooms, Blake had waited for his older sister to get ready. Now, draped head to toe the silky material of her golden gown and hair pinned up in an array of curls, the girl inspected her younger brother carefully. Blake had insisted on getting dressed in his dorm, opting for a less-than fancy look. He waved away her fussing hands and straightened the gleaming silver belt buckle himself. He had fiddled with it while he waited and had knocked it askew with his shaking fingers.

Blake had never been one for formal events, often growing bored easily and wandering away from the sharp eyes of the adults around him. He had decided he would skip the Blossom Ball, instead staying tucked up in his common room or occupied in the library but his Mum and Sister had other plans. His older sister, Maggie, had owled home home for spending money for a suitable gown. His mum had decided he would be attending as well, and with Maggie's help the two had thrown together an outfit for the lad and had confronted him with their plot. Despite his protest here he stood, dressed up and ready to attend his first Ball. He glanced wistfully at the castle, the candles twinkling and winking at him from their respective windows but was hustled toward the soft glow of the candle lit path before he could attempt an escape.
"Well here we are. Just act natural,"he told himself calmly as the siblings came to the end of the candle-lit path. The brilliant decor was dazzling before his eyes and his mouth dropped open in a 'o' shape of admiration. His sister's grip on his shoulder relaxed as they moved toward the tables. Seated at one of the tables were her friends, all done up as well and she quickly pulled away from her brother to join in the excited chatter of her friends and left Blake to pick a seat next to hers.
Comfortable silence enveloped him as he sat and observed the other patrons of the event, zoning out of the conversation around him that did not include him. Every now and then he would give a beaming grin to one of Maggie's friends as they fussed over his outfit, commenting on his appearance which seemed to be better then normal.
"I'd almost forgotten! Come here Blake an lemme give ya yer flower. can't go to a ball wit out a proper pin,"Maggie exhaled in a rush, popping her silver clutch open to pull out a small clump of Forget-Me-Not flowers encased in a small veil of emerald green leaves. The floral broach was fastened to his shirt by Maggie while her friends, all turned to look at the young lad, gushed about how handsome he looked and how grown-up he appeared in his nicer clothes. Finally having enough of the motherly fussing, Blake rose to his feet.

"Thankyou Maggie. I'll get ya somethin ta drink,"He grumbled lightly, not wanting to upset the excited girl. She nodded, pleased with his offer, and placed her clutch on his chair before turning back to her friends around her. Blake moved away from the table slowly, letting his hand trail along on the back of his chair as he took in his surroundings. New-found optimism took hold as he reached the center of the room where the food and drink was displayed lavishly. Tonight would be fun, he would make sure.

@Opeila Seilun | @Tyranni Whitethorn | @Katrina Walker

At long last, the Blossom Ball had arrived. The event was perhaps the most anticipated of the whole year, so to say its cancellation was disappointing would be an understatement. No, the announcement had been taken so badly it was undermined. And now the day of the festivities was here.

Bridget had not attended the last Blossom Ball, but even the completely closed-off girl of the previous year had heard about it. She didn't know the whole story, but she knew enough. Fires. Disaster. It was fortunate she'd missed it. The Masked Ball had been just as disastrous, if not worse, but Bridget had been there for that. The half-giants, fires, and stabbings had come as a complete shock to the second year. Real life wasn't supposed to be like this--you didn't have to worry about such horrors. And the thing that scared her the most? Professors had been at both previous debacles. There were no adults to save them this time.

One would think such expectations for the dance to be a tragedy would prevent Bridget from going. She didn't have a date, after all, and being a mere twelve-year-old, she didn't want one. Even if she was concerned for her friends' safety and the thought of something bad happening to them when she wasn't around made her sick (which it did), she could simply tip off the Professors, let them stop the ball. The student body hating her wasn't even a concern--she could remain anonymous and they'd never be any the wiser to who ruined the night. She didn't go blabbing, though. Because there was one other thing going could give her. Answers.

The walk down to the Quidditch Pitch, Nimbus 1700 in hand, was a familiar one. If she could shake off the dread that had been churning her stomach all day and ruining her appetite, Bridget might have fooled herself for a minute into believing she was just heading out to play Quidditch. Her change into ball attire was remarkably quick once she reached the locker rooms--all she had to do was switch the simple tee-shirt out for a dress. Her outfit didn't exactly scream 'for a ball', but the Slytherin couldn't care less. The dress, at least, falling just below her knees and plain white save for a few embellished periwinkle flowers, was suitable. Since one simply couldn't buy two different ball-appropriate gowns every year, she'd struck a deal to rent it for the occasion, and, with any luck, whatever damage touched the fabric would be easily undone by a Scourgify and Reparo.

Beyond the crescent moon shaped stud earrings, that was where the fanciness ended. The rest of her outfit had been born out of necessity. To hide the ugly black scars marring her veins from her right shoulder to her fingers, she'd donned a black leather jacket and simple black gloves. She also had on leggings and boots--one couldn't exactly fly a broom in a dress, and if things went wrong, fly she would. Finally, her thick, dark hair was tied back in a rather complicated braid to keep it out of her face. Whatever came her way, she was hopefully dressed to deal with.

After storing her tee-shirt in her locker, one of the perks of being a Quidditch player, Bridget, broom still clutched in hand and wand quite literally up her sleeve, emerged onto the Pitch. The place she spent so much time had been transformed. Innumerable candles floated in the air, somehow encased in bubbles, and the ground beneath her feet, while visually the same, felt hard like stone. With the addition of tables and a dance floor, it was hard to believe this was a sports stadium. Bridget didn't miss the spots for leaving brooms for quick access in case of emergency, but there was no way she was leaving hers there. For one, she didn't want to lose the precious item, and also, if things went wrong it would be much faster to have it on hand. Taking it all in, she felt ridiculously small and powerless. The goal tonight had never been to save everyone, of course; she wasn't that heroic and it just wasn't possible. But looking at the younger students, those in long, beautiful dresses, having fun, not knowing how much danger they could be in... No. Her job was to get answers.

Weaving though the edges of the crowd, she tried, and mostly failed, to hold the fear at bay. There are too many people. What if someone actually dies this time? Spotting Opeila and Tyranni, she gave a small wave and a meaningful look before moving on. And then she saw Katrina, one of the few people she considered a friend. The Gryffindor looked stunning in a long teal dress. Veering over to the redhead, Bridget gave her a slightly tense smile. "Nice dress. You look great." Bridget rubbed the back of her neck, starting to panic a little. What if while she was off on her own mission something happened to Katrina? "Stay safe, okay?"

With a quick nod to the girl, Bridget moved on. Tonight was risky. Dangerous. But Bridget was going to get those answers.

Joey was nervous walking down from the castle. He had never been to a ball before and hoped he wasn't going to feel too out of place. He had gotten ready at the castle before walking down, thinking he wouldn't be too obvious if he was seen. He had settled on a pair of dark grey flannel trousers, brown leather boots, a white shirt with a navy blue waistcoat, a bow tie and a dark, blue-grey long coat with a big collar.
He pressed on towards the quidditch pitch, going a bit of a long way around as not to be seen. He knew his way around the grounds well from all the time he had spent walking around and even knew a few hidden paths that would pop out somewhere completely unexpected. A quick glance behind him assured him he wasn't being followed before he followed the candle-lit path down the last stretch to the Quidditch pitch and slipped in through the entrance.
He looked round, astounded, not expecting everything to look so different - from the candles floating in bubbles to the big decorated hoops and the dancfloor in the centre of the pitch. He didn't know where to look. Joey started around the pitch, looking for someone he knew, while admiring everyones dresses, suits and dress-robes.

OPEN TO INTERACTIONS (both positive and negative LOL)

Jo’s outfit was not quite what she had expected when she had asked her guardian for a ball-worthy garb, but the old Slytherin spinster’s style just couldn’t be shaken off. The girl might have well have asked for a dress to appear in a muggle Gothic horror movie in. Dracula, maybe, or that old black and white one…Carmilla, was it? She’d always liked the older one - it was more similar to the book. Lady Aithne had obviously chosen to ignore the “blossom” part of the Blossom Ball, but Jo wasn’t one to look a gift dress in the mouth. In fact, she quite liked the style, though she had hoped for something that would help her blend in a bit more with the crowd.The “crowd”, she assumed (perhaps incorrectly), would be dressed in a manner more fit for the flowery season. Hers was so…stuffy, with all its bows and cross-lacing and other superfluous flourishes.

With a fashion ripped straight from the Addams Family, an outrageous shade of blue lipstick, and her black walnut and snallygaster heartstring wand safely concealed in a velvety purse, the young witch slipped one last bobby pin into her tousled updo as she hesitated just outside the Quidditch Pitch (had it become her custom to wait at the threshold of , brushing aside any last doubts about the possibility of getting a detention or even a suspension for attending a ball that had been forbidden. Come to think of it, considering the horrors that currently seemed to be plaguing the school, there was likely much more than a simple detention to be worried about. But danger was her element, and besides, she had brought her wand. And when push came to shove came to Incendio, who was to say Jo couldn’t land a few good slaps? It was still to be determined if face-slaps were any effective against ogres or hags, but it never hurt to try. Okay, maybe it could hurt a little bit. Or a lot. Even if her hypothetical action did lead to catastrophic consequences, though, she would still be a legend for bitch-slapping an eldritch terror in its ugly magical face. There was no other way Jo would rather go out.

The Quidditch Pitch air was still a little chilly - all the better for the dramatic ruffling of shoulder capes. She pretended she was a heroine in a classical story, trudging with a weary countenance across hill and dale, searching for her lover. But why a lover? Glory or power were more suited to a lioness, although she still vehemently denied the moniker.

There were a few other students already there, but that was of no matter. Tonight was hers to enjoy. All of the stress, all of the worrying, all of the paranoia… it ended here, just for tonight. Tonight she wasn't here to interrogate or monitor or spy on anyone or blunder around attempting to pry information from wary witnesses.Tonight she could be beautiful and normal and magical and maybe even kind. Tonight she could just be a kid, far away from her father in Azkaban and the death that had followed her like a shadow since her birth. Tonight under the stars, maybe she could even learn to dance. If she survived the night, that was. According to rumors, Rafa and Evelynn had been fighting quite a bit lately, and Merlin knew how many students Jo had second hand beef with.

With a deep breath and a final bobby pin just for luck, Jo strode onto the Quidditch Pitch, ready to find out if any girls were ready to dance with her and if any boys were ready to punch her in the face, wishful thinking and optimism be damned.