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

[ some variant of harry potter au! era can be anywhere from trio or something closer to the founders era or anywhere in between. definitely an older student or young faculty or teaching assistant?? maybe visiting from a Grisha academy in Ravka/fantasy Russia which is maybe more alchemy than spells based. i'm flexible!! ]

Edited 2021-02-06 23:46 (UTC)

She's fairly sure that nobody has spiked the punch (this time), because she has been keeping an eye on it. Either way, she is very thirsty and it's worth the risk - because she is thirsty.

Now if she can just get around the person standing next to the bowl to get a glass...

Or, bollocks, she'll just summon it into her hand. "Hello, sorry about that. Coming through."

"Oh!" Alina dips out of the way just in time as a glass whizzes past her. She's still not quite used to the ease of the spellwork that is so common among these schools. The Ravkan Grisha likened themselves to scientists, their magic transformational rather than generative. Alina, though, is politely curious. Still more content to observe the festivities than really participate.

"Hello," Alina offers with a small smile, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Rather better the second time around, if I'm honest," she quips, without any further context given; realistically speaking, news of the old Triwizard Tournament probably did not reach Russia and if it did, her own misadventures at it surely weren't included in the bullet points.

But she's got no other opening than that, and has been curious about talking to one of the Ravkan Grisha ever since they arrived.

"Hi - my name's Hermione."

He could do this.

He had practiced this. Locked in the prefect's bathroom (which always felt a little bit spooky to him) Bill Weasley had rehearsed extensively, practicing on the mermaid in the stained glass window. Honestly, that had gotten to the point where at the end of the night he was meant to go up there and have a cup of tea with it because it had taken to being asked to the ball over and over far better than he thought semi-sentient magical stained-glass figures might have ordinarily.

That wasn't the point, he reminded himself while he paced in a slow circle in an alcove near where he knew Alina's class to be.

The point was that there were less than a handful of days to go before the ball and if he hadn't missed his chance with the incredibly beautiful girl he had been failing very poorly at conversing with all term he stood to have one of the best evenings of his life.

Or the worst.

That thought hung in the back of his mind like a lopsided picture as the sound of shoes hitting stone floors filled the corridor, forcing him out of his hiding place and against the flow of traffic searching the steady stream of passing faces for hers. Naturally, she was near a group of girls when he spotted her (they traveled in packs and it was utterly intimidating), his course drifting to the left as his feet followed his eyes.

"Alina," he blurted out like he'd been holding her name in for an hour or more.

"Have you got a minute?"

This was already going a lot different than it had with the window.

Edited 2021-02-07 00:04 (UTC)

Alina was only half paying attention to the conversation of her friends, meticulously planning their preparations for the Yule Ball. She picked at her fingernails, still undecided if she would even go. It's not that she worried too much about having a date, but the fussing wasn't her normal style. Attention was a foreign concept for Alina, whose talents lay in the less traditional forms of magic while she made only due in the core curriculum.

It is only after Genya said her name a few times that she realized her group had stopped several feet behind her along with Bill Weasley who had also called her name. Genya and Zoya flashed Alina knowing looks before they link arms, laughing as they left to give the two privacy. Alina covered her face with her hand lightly, trying to hide her flush.

"Bill," she was almost surprised, wondering what this could be about. "Of course, although if you're looking for someone to practice for the charms exam, I should let you know I've been lost for weeks now."

A Ravkan alchemist and an American spellworker walk into a Yule Ball in Scotland.

It sounds like the setup to an awful joke, but it's simply the truth of their existence at the moment: Darlington is standing at the edge of the dance floor, his tie and blazer both looking ironed and crisp in Lethe House colours, the black hound emblem sharp on the left side of his chest, while he sips his drink and eyes the throng of Hogwarts students around them. The foreign schools are decidedly in the minority, their accents standing out amongst all this exaggerated Britishness. This young man and young woman aren't even here to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, either; they're a bit older than their compatriots, serving as chaperones more than anything else.

After a while, Darlington finally caves and glances over at the TA beside him, sneaking a look at her. He has so many questions about the Grisha magic specialties, which he's been dying to ask, but politely pressing down instead because they're all here for another purpose. Still, though...

"Enjoying the ball, Starkov?" he asks, lightly.

Edited (too many 3am edits) 2021-02-07 07:51 (UTC)

The Grisha can certainly be... cliquey. Likening themselves more to scientists with a complex understanding of the natural world, the Ravkan ensemble stood with their chins high and their outfits immaculate. The Darkling understood the importance of putting on a show.

It's not Alina's outfit that stands out, her gown blue with golden embroidery and sapphire studded hairpins glittering in her hair, but her attitude. Always a bit of an outsider, Alina had never fallen into the unwritten but still extremely rigid rules of intermingling among the orders, and, in the case of the tournament, outside of the Grisha more than is necessary to either be polite, although polite is debatable when each conversation is tainted with the strong overtones of promoting Grisha superiority.

"Darlington," she smiles at the name he had been introduced with. Having broken off from the larger group, she is free to be less stuffy. Cordial and genuine. "Yes, I've only had to confiscate three flasks so far. Ravkan liquor is... hard on those who aren't used to it. Yourself?"

"More partial to whiskey," he says breezily, but there's a twinkle in his eye when she shoots him a look at that response. He waves a hand, indicating he's joking. "The children do like to pretend they're rebellious. Like old-timey smugglers, hiding hipflasks beneath their robes. I saw one get very creative earlier with a hollow walking cane."

The Grisha half-remind him of Durmstrang students he's met at academic symposiums. Stern and imposing, their demeanour as cold as the country around them. He'd expected more of the same from Starkov, but she's a little warmer tonight, and he almost jerks a little at the sound of his name.

Sometimes he wonders if letting his chums introduce him was a mistake. But nobody, absolutely nobody calls him Daniel anymore; the nickname had landed during his first year and then Darlington had stuck forever, apparently to the extent of now crossing national boundaries. Might as well run with it.

Drink trays occasionally float by, enchanted to fly on their own accord. He snags a flute of (non-alcoholic!) cider from one, takes a sip. "If you don't want to be run ragged chasing after underclassmen, I also advise not going into the gardens. Chasing handsy students out of the bushes is like herding cats."

You Are Cordially Invited to the Yule Ball!

alina starkov (grishaverse)

ALCHEMY YOU SAY (6)

lmfao i don't pretend to actually know what grisha magic is. magical physics.

as a lover of magical MATHS hermione's 100% in

hey sailor. 1, classmates in their last year of school?

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6-9-ish, feat. two foreign exchange students at the tournament ball

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