End of Exams Party

((This is set for the end of exams. I just couldn’t wait.))

Darcy was absolutely thrilled.

Seven years of attending this school, and others, part time and she had still managed to pass all of her finals. Well, all of the finals she needed to be considered a graduate. She would never have to write another essay, read another textbook, take another pop quiz, listen to another lecture that even made something as exciting as giant wars boring. Darcy, the girl who had always had access to the seven seas, was feeling freer than she ever had before, something she had not thought to be possible.

So to celebrate… a party. Of course. She had thought of a wonderful idea and had recruited her dormmates, who for whatever reason dearly loved her, to help her. One of the Herbology greenhouses had been abandoned for the past year. Darcy’s dorm mate Lucy explained that the year prior, some weirdo with dyed hair had tried to burn down the greenhouse. The girl had not completely succeeded, but enough so that they had closed down the greenhouse until they could repopulate it.

It had become storage in the meantime, so Darcy and her friends snuck inside and cleared out the old tables and chairs, before lining the place with Christmas lights. Hannah had stolen food, Meg had secured Butterbeer and Firewhiskey, and Kathryn performed the charms on the greenhouse that would keep professors from noticing. Silencing charms, a charm to turn the panes black so the lights were unseen… It was all very clever.

And Darcy provided the music and the rest.

She had given a friend from each house a huge stack of flyers that turned to ash in the hands of anyone but a student (another clever charm from Kathryn) that announced the date, time, and location of the party. They seemed to work, because 9 o’clock rolled around and the greenhouse was filling with people. Couples squeezed into the equipment closets, singles guzzled the Firewhiskey, and younger students just enjoyed the freedom of the party. And Darcy reveled in the kingdom she had created.

Historically Bertie had never attended a Hogwarts party. They were a part of the school life the Ravenclaw tended to avoid, not that he'd ever received an invite, but the idea of them didn't sit well with him. Once there had been a sugar incident, another a full blown argument between Erika and Henri Finch then the most recent one at Christmas... Well, Bertie had been in St Mungo's.

Perhaps it was almost losing his life or the fact he was older now that made Bertie decide to take a visit to the upcoming secret end of exams party. The party was due to take place in the greenhouses, one of Bertie's favourite places in the castle. The Ravenclaw was a little apprehensive about going, he wouldn't want to get caught by a Professor, but at the same time after the roller coaster of a year he had Bertie felt the need for a little celebration. A celebration of being able to celebrate at Hogwarts.

Vivianna was leaving next year. He had one more year with her and he'd only managed to spend half of this year with her. The Slytherin was his sister, not by blood or adoption or anything of the sort, but he knew she was his sister and his best friend. He loved her unconditionally and hoped their relationship wouldn't drift as Vivianna ventured into the adult world this time next year. The Ravenclaw hadn't told Viv he was attending the party, he didn't know whether she'd suggest he didn't attend or not, but he was going and he hoped that she would be too.


At quarter past nine Bertie made his way from Ravenclaw Tower, across the sloping lawns and into the disused greenhouse that had gotten burnt down in a mad fire last year. He'd decided not to arrive right on time to avoid the awkwardness he'd feel being one of the first there and not knowing anybody.

Opening the glass door that had been completely blackened out Bertie found himself in the greenhouse at his first Hogwarts party. Well. Now was the time to have fun and maybe he'd make some new friends? Then again Bertie was shy upon meeting new people, give him a couple of weeks with someone and he would talk to them easy enough, but introductions had never been the fourteen year old's thing. If only there was someone he knew to make him feel more at ease...

So, Miss Monger had heard about her clash of wands with Aurora Daniels. As if Natalie needed anymore gossip spread about her, granted the gossip was true as opposed to usual, but did Miss Monger really need to do that? A recent article had appeared around Hogwarts divulging rumors. Natalie had to owe it to Miss Monger, she had claimed to root for the Gryffindor, but still. Was there any need for the gossip? Hopefully the end of the exams party, which Natalie was naturally attending, wouldn't cause things to escalate but this was Hogwarts and Hogwarts was full of surprises.

Natalie wasn't one to dress up, she would choose comfortable clothes other tight trendy styles but this was a party and Natalie wanted to feel good about herself. There was a saying: if you look good you feel good and tonight Natalie was taking that approach. Choosing a pink flowing dress (perfect for Summer) and dolly shoes (heels would be too much of an effort), Natalie made her way to the greenhouses.

Whoever had planned the party had done a good job. For a moment the Gryffindor had doubted herself, believing that the party must have been moved to a different place but when she stepped into the Greenhouse Natalie guessed they must have cast some sort of magic to make the greenhouse appear unoccupied and desolate.

Heading straight towards a bench with drinks Natalie grasped a bottle of firewhiskey, placed the edge of the bottle cap against the wooden bench and hit it with the palm of her hand. Very lady like.


Look

Ducky looked at the greenhouses with the smile of a man who knew he was about to win the lottery. The world was ripe for picking, and he was the only one tall enough to reach its upper branches. The stars were arranging to spell out the secrets to life, and he was the only one who spoke their star language. He had been given a secret that he could not share because the message only made sense to him. Opportunity had come knocking and he was the only one home.

Jonah Baker was feeling like he had everything at his fingertips.

Sure, there were problems. He was still from a family of Nobodies, in which he was the least worthy of them all. His family legacy was of disappointment. He was from the underdogs who always stayed under. He had no hopes to become Jay Gatsby. He could not speak well enough, he could not remain committed to an unattainable goal, he could not deny himself. He had the smile, that smile that made you fortunate for being graced with it, a smile that made you believe that his approval meant that better times were coming, but a smile no longer made a man. The only Gatsby legacy he could hope to achieve was an early death.

But none of that concerned him. Because he was still young, still spry, still charming. He was among people who would not yet judge him for his pocketbook, his breeding, or his plans. They would judge him on the strength of the liquor tucked under his arm (and it was strong), the potency of the drugs in his pocket (and they were potent), and the antics he could bring (and antics were his favorite housewarming gift).

No, Ducky was a pauper, but when he stepping into a party, it became his kingdom, and he was beloved by his subjects. He strolled in and hooked his arm around a small Ravenclaw boy, handing him the bottle of liquor. "Let's get this party started, yeah?"

Not knowing exactly where he should begin to head or what to do at a party Bertie moved forwards, headed towards the side of the greenhouse by the door and simply looked around. Some people, he noticed one fifth year - Natalie George - had alcohol. This perhaps wasn't the best thing he should be doing. It wasn't exactly risk-free. Then again what is the worst that could happen? Bertie wouldn't be drinking himself...

Unexpectedly an older boy, 'Ducky' if Bertie had heard correctly, had hooked an arm around him and energetically shoved a bottle of alcohol into his arms. Okay. This wasn't great. The alcohol being drank by the redhead across the room had made him uneasy and now here he was, fourteen years old, with a bottle of liquor in his hand.

'I. Umm. I don't drink.' He told the older Gryffindor hesitantly hoping not to appear as a total loser. Would the Gryffindor laugh in his face, call him a weirdo and walk away? Was Bertie about to be public embarrassed or would the Ravenclaw be subject to drinking it anyway?

'I think I'm just going-' His brown eyes quickly scanned around the room, 'Just going to-' there was nobody he knew, nobody to distract him, 'to-' Why was Vivianna not here or a Ravenclaw he vaguely knew?

His NEWT's were finally over. After an entire year of working solid in the library, pouring over extra reading, write essay after essay, researching careers and delving into deeper areas of magic Alexander was finally free to socalise as much as he wanted. At least until he achieved his results and could start to find a job. Hopefully he'd achieved the grades. No. There was no hoping in that for the Slytherin was certain he'd achieved nothing less than an exceeds expectations. The bigger picture was no whether he'd get a job in the ministry because of his current stance. Alexander had opposed the marriage law, his Mother had paid the bail and now what? Would Alexander be forced into a marriage or an Azkaban sentence? Neither seemed ideal but if push came to shove Alexander knew he'd end up married to a muggle born. Oh the humanity.

Thankfully there was a party happening tonight that would take his mind off the whole dilemma, the one of Alexander's many dilemma's. A recent article had been floating around Hogwarts, an article by an anonymous by the name Miss Monger. A gossip columnist. According to whoever this Miss Monger is his sister, Ally Nott, had had a love affair with a muggle born. This seemed highly unlikely, granted she wasn't sorted into Slytherin like the rest of the family but she was just as much a blood supremacist as the rest. At least that's what Alexander thought anyway.

His peers, on the other hand thought different. A group of Slytherins in the year below had approached Alexander asking him for the details, wondering if she was the runt of the family, the one who would ruin their pure blooded legacy. Ally wouldn't be the first to do this. His aunt Tatiana had fell pregnant with a muggle and had gave birth to his child only for it to be sent away by Alexander's Grandfather. Nobody knew this outside of the Nott family, in fact Tatiana was kept hidden away from the public view as to not draw attention to the matter. Allyson wouldn't become Tatiana, Alexander knew she wouldn't.


Arriving in the Greenhouses in a white shirt with a grey blazer jacket and dark jeans Alexander immediately found himself talking to a bunch of other Slytherins. Hopefully Ally would appear, it would give him chance to talk to her and publicly nullify any rumours spread by 'Miss Monger.'

Finn did not usually come to parties on her own. But Ducky had sent everyone in the group a quick note, asking they all come so they could hang out. And when Ducky asked her to be somewhere, she was there.  She even tried to look nice, though in the standards of youth, not her father’s. At the Grimm estate, she donned stockings, shoes with buckles, and lace ribbons. At the school, she tried to appear like a total loser goody-too-shoes, though the look of perpetual shock on her face did very little to help this impression.

However, she managed to put on something that did not make her look like she was a first year, before heading out to the party. She would survive, of course. Besides, exams were over and no one ever got in trouble after exams. It was practically summer for everyone, not just the students. The professors, too, no longer cared what the students did as long as nobody turned up missing or dead. And Finn doubted it would come to that.

Ducky, meanwhile, seemed to have picked someone a bit too young for the party. The boy looked instantly terrified, holding the bottle like it was a ticking bomb. Ducky was always in support of a party, of course, but he tried not to encourage discomfort and fear in strangers, especially younger ones. He was all about fun, and if the bottle prevented the boy from having any fun, he was not going to torment him with it any longer.

Besides, more for him.

He plucked the bottle from the boy’s hands and smiled that smile, that smile that seemed to put everyone at ease because it was open, honest, kind, and yet so fun. He was born to be the cool older brother it seemed. “No worries, mate. I’m Ducky Baker – don’t think we’ve met.” He grinned, when a familiar figure caught his eye. One of his closest friends, Fiona Grimm, had just arrived to the party. “Ay, Finn-Face!” he whooped. She turned and began making her way through the crowd.

“What was your name?” Ducky asked the boy who was still clamped to his side. Fiona had reached them and Ducky released the boy to wrap his arm around Finn’s neck and yank on her scarf playfully. “This is Finn-face,” he informed the boy, happy to introduce his awkward friend to a boy who looked to be about her age.

Finn colored pink. “Fiona, er, Finn, not Finn-face. And I know him. We’re in the same year. You’re Bertie.” She sounded horribly uncertain throughout the entire speech and was sinking into her usual look of fearful misery.

That wasn't as bad as it could have gone. The boy, who did turn out to be Ducky Barker, simply took the bottle from his hands. Bertie hadn't fell into the pit of peer pressure, he didn't have to try and pretend to be anybody but himself. Maybe it was easier than he'd thought, maybe he'd let his shyness tame him for too long?

'Yes.' Bertie replied slightly astonished that she knew his name. No doubt that mean't she had been aware he'd not been in school from October through to January because he was 'dead', or at least that is what people had presumed. Vivianna had presumed that, his dormitory mates too. Thankfully it hadn't come to that, he'd only had a rare mutated strain of the green itch. Only. If only it had sounded that simple. Nonetheless Bertie was well and as healthy as he'd ever been.

'You're Fiona Grimm?' He guessed, pretty certain it was her. They had shared a few classes together over the years but being Bertie he had never been one to socialise inside of classes or in the corridor lining up to go in. Instead the Ravenclaw would daydream, do the work or daydream. Mostly daydream. 'I remember you from herbology last year.' He added, hoping to reduce the awkward tension of being forced to talk to somebody he didn't know. Maybe, after the small talk, they could possibly become friends? Who knows. Perhaps she'd rather stay away from him if she'd heard about him being ill.

Her OWLs were finally over. After spending almost all year pouring herself into books and notes, she was rather pleased with her OWLs. Ally thought she did rather well on,she knew that she had Potions and DADA in the bag.  Although she had to wait over the summer to see how she did.  That was the nerve racking part,  was waiting for the results.  She remembered how nervous Alexander was when he waited for his,  he was a nervous wreck.

Luckily she had all summer until her results came in, after a long week of studying and taking tests, Ally was ready to party it up.  Although that stupid bloody rumor have been going on around her,  Ally wondered if she should really go or not.  She honestly wanted to find and kill whoever this bloody 'Miss Monger' was.  She had no right budding into her personal life or affairs for that matter.  No matter how true it was,  it was no one bloody business but hers and only hers.

"Who bloody cares what people think, I'm going to that party!"said Ally simply.  Grabbing her emerald green dress with green emeralds on it, Ally did her hair back and make up before heading out towards the greenhouse.  Looking around as she seen Alexander her stomach dropped.  She had a feeling that he was going to ask her about the rumor Miss Monger wrote about her.  " Hey Alexander. " said Ally softly before shooting a small smile at his Slytherin friends.

((Would Miss Finch be persuaded to come out now, you think? XD ))


“Oh my god. Just look at you.”

Dark hair cascaded in waves around her shoulders, the candlelight shimmering off the silver beads bunched around her neckline, playing peek-a-boo with her collarbone. The sheath of the black dress hugged her thighs, clinging faithfully to her sparse curves and those metallic boots were the best pocket money investment ever. They looked bloody wicked around her ankles, all solid steel and gleaming bright, the pencil heel sharp enough to castrate balls with a good kick (the only way to judge a heel, really) and coolest of all......they came with laces. Honest-to-God black, school boy laces that wiggled and flopped all about the place when she kicked her feet. Her legs looked phenomenal, going all the way from the South Pole to the Bering Strait; and Alisha just stared at them for a few minutes more, exerting mindboggling will-power not to whip out a tape measure right that instant. She would auction off her broom if they hadn’t grown three inches in the last night.

“You wicked, wicked girl.” The girl in the looking glass wagged her finger at her. “Why, oh why, must you torture the poor inhabitants of the castle like this? Do you want them to turn catatonic?”

Catatonia Inducing Legs of Mass Destruction, Alisha marvelled. She’d probably be able to form a dictatorship, right then and there, and take over the world.

The mirror however, didn’t seem to share in her enthusiasm. In an epically bored voice (Alisha was almost jealous, and it was an inanimate object, and that was not cool), it drawled- “Are you done yet?”

Mouth twisting a little to the side, she shot back- “Isn’t that supposed to be your job? Telling me how I look?”

“Not when you’re doing it so successfully on your own.” If mirrors could have eyes, they would be rolling enough to fall right off. Alisha wondered if it would be overly immature to stick out her tongue- technically at her reflection.

She shook her head left to right, a little like a dog shaking water out of its fur, till her black tufts of hair flopped over one another in crazy perfection, then turned around, calling over her shoulder. “I’m replacing you tomorrow. You’re fired.”

That nasal drawl continued on her heels, “Malfoy would notice her mirror getting switched in two minutes.”

Her tongue grew cold from overexposure before she stomped out; and the mirror was still shaking in laughter.

~

She’d reached the greenhouse fifteen minutes ago. Rock-climbing made one rather dexterous, even with ball-chopping Heels of Doom. She’d even taken the scenic route for her walk after- which of course passed through the Clock Tower, and the roofs of three other greenhouses and Hagrid’s deserted hut. But the girl was still there, face thrown into shadows in the corner she was huddled into, when Alisha returned. Her toecap tapped against the dirt rather impressively, twice, before she gave up on saintly patience- not one of her most impressive skills anyway.

“Are you going in?”

The girl started- Alisha rather thought she’d have startled anyway, even if she’d made a noise like a rampaging herd of hippogriffs when she approached, if those glazed hazel eyes were any indication- and turned, showing Dixon’s thin, half-starved face. The girl ate fine enough, anyone with Hogwarts finest house-elves and feasts at their disposal would be idiots not to- but the girl’s features always seemed a little starved to her anyway: that lank hair, colourless lips, limpid eyes. As if wanting, deprived all life of something most basic, essential. It made a part of her twist in unease, but a bigger part want to step forward and.....help.

Alisha expected a rebuttal, one of those meaningless, mumbled mutters Dixon bestowed on anyone who bothered approaching her, but the girl turned back to look where her eyes had been fixed ever since Alisha had first arrived: on the greenhouse door. Her voice was still bland though, still meaningless. “No point.”

Alisha waited. A part of her wanted to tap her foot again, the part that was too restless to stay still and flow with life, eager to overtake it instead, the part that made her Daadi tut at her in disapproval because she could never make a good gardener- she left boring, uninteresting seeds for dead and plucked tender buds off the shoot before they could bloom; but she waited.

“I’m trying too hard.” Dixon said, mouth curling in bitterness as a particularly joyous shout ran through the building when the thump of music starting curling beneath the ground at their feet.

“We all are.” Alisha said, and perhaps spoke a bit too fast, too soon; but she wanted to get it out before her cheeky tongue tumbled over the words and messed them up- it felt so rare that her mind produced something worth saying. She jerked her head at the door. “Half the people in there are trying to be grown-ups. The other half are trying to be five. None of us are succeeding very well.”

“I’m too different.” Dixon said next, and Alisha felt her mouth turn down, but of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. She sounded like it had been drilled into her, like a cold draught poured down her throat every day before breakfast. “I don’t fit.”

Alisha’s brow clouded over, and before she could control it, her heels had bored four holes in the mud in two steps, impetuously carrying her to the raven-haired girl. Dixon blinked back at her, almost naively, and inspite of all her impatience to do good, and all her recklessness with plants and glass and things that deserved better, more careful treatment- a smile broke over her face, and it felt as genuine as ever. Good and right.

“Have you ever seen a jigsaw puzzle?” She asked, the smile quirking up her lips, and then ploughed on in her typical way, not waiting for an answer. If it had to work, it would work. “Imagine if all the pieces were straight, and square. Then all of them would fit together, and any piece would go anywhere and we’d hold the completed puzzle up and it’d all fall apart- because it wouldn’t really fit. Stick.”

“But every piece in a jigsaw puzzle is different. And each has its own place, and for all their crazy shapes, and inward grooves and outer loops, they all lock together perfectly to form the right picture. They stick.”

Alisha’s breath rumbled out of her chest, and she paused, and waited again. There was the uneasy thudding, the one that emerged so rarely, the one that told her that as always, she’d pushed too hard and too fast. But then Dixon smiled too, and her cheeks didn’t look quite so hollow anymore.

Which is how, minutes later, Alisha found herself throwing the door open and yelling for the world to heat, “Bringing new acolytes for the reaping!”

She shot a last thumbs up to the pale, little shaky-looking but otherwise alright Dixon, and then forgot all about it- zooming to where the party was. Her domain, her land. But then again, she rather specialised in making every place hers.

Her arms ambushed Ducky from behind, tightening against his throat briefly then turning him around, million wattage smile at the ready. “Ducky Baker. My good, good man. It has been too long.” It had been, really. One minute without dramatics of the Ducky-kind, was a minute too long. Then she swooped down on the slightly flabbergasted-looking Finn next to him. “Fiona, my honey-munchkin. You look absolutely ravishing tonight.” She turned to the tousled-haired boy next, and ruffled his hair up a little more, holding back the coo with immense fortitude and strength of will. “Bertie.”

A narrowed gaze at Finn. “You saved me the first dance, didn’t you?”

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