hogwartsexpressed | You Are Cordially Invited to the Yule Ball!

The Yule Ball

How to play
① Tag in
② Go to RNG and roll 1-10. That's your scenario!
③ Tag around!
④ Have fun. :)

Cross-canon/canon/oc's are all welcome! Just note how your character has been invited to the ball or if they're a student! We welcome it all. ♥

Scenarios
① Ask Your Date to the Yule Ball - Invite that special someone or ask your best friend. There is nothing wrong with going as friends!
② Dress Shopping/Dress Robe Shopping - It's time to find that perfect outfit! Or have one mailed to you and ask someone to alter it for you if need be.
③ Getting Ready - It's time to get ready for the ball, do you feel that nervous flutter?
④ Picking Up Your Date - Go and pick up your date, the ball is about to start!
⑤ The First Dance - It's time for the first dance. Are you ready?
⑥ Refreshment Table - Let's hope ~~someone~~ no one spiked the punch! We're looking at you Marauders. We see that flask, Sirius...
⑦ The Courtyard - Need a break from dancing and people? We get that. Go into the courtyard and get a breath of fresh air. Just be sure no teacher catches you making out with your date.
⑧ Wardrobe Malfunction - The absolute worst timing, a wardrobe malfunction! What do you do?
⑨ Chaperone - Are you a chaperone for the evening? How'd you get stuck with that gig? Better make sure the Marauders aren't creating havoc or spiking the punch!
⑩ Free Choice - You know what, you do your thing!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She doesn't mean to eavesdrop, honest to Morgana. The curtains at Madam Malkins are extremely thin - maybe on purpose? Modistes love their gossip - and she is trying out the dress for the upcoming Yule Ball, when she hears a familiar voice.

There are four champions - though there should be only three - and the youngest of all, Harry Potter, he has a friend who is always around him. She reminds Fleur of this little busy bee, although not unkindly. Hermione Granger, she is called, and the girls in the Ravenclaw Tower have called her a few other unkind things, but Fleur has not seen any of the smug know-it-all attitude she is infamous for; she's decided long ago that the girls in Ravenclaw might just be jealous.

There is a degree of sympathy, and maybe even camaraderie - Hermione's good name has been dragged through the mud by a newspaper, of all things, and she is too young to be involved in this. In fact, she should not have to go through this at all - and Fleur knows a thing or two about people assuming things about you just based on your blood, or your looks, or your skills.

She knows what they say about her. That Beauxbatons is only participating in the Tournament because they need a third school, not because of talents; that she is the weaker link, because she is neither a Quidditch star, nor a golden boy, nor a Chosen One.

Anyway - bottom line - pardon her French: fuck them.

She isn't eavesdropping, but she hears Hermione Granger talking about the shade of her dress with Madame and Fleur pulls her curtain aside. "You look lovely, Hermione," she says, with a small smile, flinching at how she's probably managed to mangle up her name.

"Do I?" The words are almost laughed out, and the tension coiling in Hermione's shoulders is tight as a bowstring. Being friends with Harry a person had to get used to a certain degree of attention, but the story the Prophet had decided to run hurled Hermione into a spotlight she was woefully underprepared for.

Still, that was no reason to be rude, and no sooner had the words left her mouth than her expression softened some, her head shaking in silent apology. "Fleur, you always look beautiful," she hadn't been thinking it through, but once it was out in the open air she realized what she'd said, and again Hermione shook her head.

"It's quite a night, isn't it?" Yes, better to turn the focus of the conversation away from whatever that had been, and onto easier topics. It wasn't that Fleur put her on edge, so much as it was that she had never met anyone quite like her before. Fleur had been full of surprises in the competition, both as a person and as a competitor, and Hermione admired her talent and her fearless way of saying what she needed to say. She understood being misjudged very well, and it made her want to try harder.

"Your date seems lovely too," she added, helpfully.

"Roger?" She waves her hand, a bit dismissive, with a roll of her eyes. "He thinks that he's taking a fairy princess to the ball, just because of my heritage. I do not expect we will see each other afterwards, but..." a little sigh here, "Alas, going alone was not acceptable."

She had tried to make a case for it with Madame, but her headmistress had been strict. If the Yule Ball included the tradition of finding a bloody date to paw at you, well, who were Beauxbatonians to be overshadowed?

She comes up to stand with Hermione in front of the grand mirror, inspecting her own dress as well.

Mon dieu, I do look like a fairy. And not in a good way. She deliberately steps away from that thought and meets Hermione's eyes, with a small grin.

"Viktor's a lovely choice - and if you want my advice? You're young, so you are allowed to be a little petty." She winks at Hermione in the mirror. "So if you want to shut them all up, go with this shade exactly."

There was an odd sense of camaraderie in the way that Fleur turned away from the mirror to meet her gaze and it made Hermione warm to her instantly. She decided immediately that if the Beauxbatons champion wanted to be her friend, she was quite glad for it.

"Viktor?" She spoke her date's name somewhat more fondly than Fleur had Roger, but just as skeptically.

"I'm as surprised that he asked me as everyone else is. Beyond the fact that his fans made the library impossible to get any work done in, I hadn't considered anything," she made a face and shrugged, shoulders tight.

"He's a lovely date, I'm quite happy to be here." And Ron could get fucked for trying to ruin that, let's be real.

You Are Cordially Invited to the Yule Ball!

2. wow apparently i have feelings

rips the door off the hinges

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