The Yule Ball

The air was bitterly cold. It was above freezing but with the wind, the temperature seemed to plummet. Jen was just glad to get up to the castle. She didn’t care so much about the ball at present; she just wanted it to be warm. She wanted to be warm. It would be a completely different scenario this year. Jen couldn’t quite believe a year had passed. It was so strange. She and Rob had been at so many completely different levels of society. Criminals, inmates...you name it they’d been there. Now they were at an all time high. Jen was positive something was going to go wrong and soon at that. They could never be happy. They were always on some level of despair. At present their house was filled with ex-models, children, a camp Frenchman, another Frenchman and a tattooist from South London.

Placing on foot carefully in front of the other to prevent any trips, Jen walked towards the Great Hall. She’s slipped off her coat and handed it to the House Elves on duty upon her entrance and was now working her way towards the hall. She was slightly nervous about the whole ordeal really but she had everything going for her at present. She had nothing to be worried about. Jen walked through the doors of the Great Hall and looked about herself. She smoothed out her dress and pushed a loose curl over her shoulder. Her hair had been curled, courtesy of Christophe who had nigh on pushed her out of the door. He’d pinned some of it back using pearl pins and had done lots of different things to it. Jen didn’t even want to know what he’d done. She liked it though; regardless of what he’d done to her hair.

Jen spotted Matt over by the punch table and smirked. She watched him ladle some of the punch into a glass before wandering over to say hello. “Getting some punch before they spike it, Matt?” she asked, smiling up at him. “This, I believe, is going to be one of those affairs that we’ll all have to end up policing. Bless their hearts. I hope they all have terrible hangovers in the morning,” she smirked and picked up a cube of cheese. She pulled it off of the stick with her teeth and put the stick down again. Well, at least the cheddar was good.

Matt looked up at the familiar face of Jenifer Dent. He grinned as she stood beside him, "I'm about to spike the damn punch myself." he told her. "How've you been these days?" he asked her as he took a piece of cheese for himself. He had been afraid to touch it, but it seemed good; Jen hadn't keeled over vomiting. "I want nothing to do with seperating teenagers from their booze. Unless I'm getting what we take of course." he told her. "What's worse is seperating teenagers from other teenagers, I swear to God. I've already seen three make out sessions being broken up on the dance floor." he told her.

"I remember when just the mention of broom closet with your name made you cool." he said taking another drink of the punch. "Now they have to make sure everyone sees a game of tonsil hockey." he said. The dance has barely started and Matt saw people rubbing againts others. There were few teachers so he supposed they were living it up before others got there. That's what Matt would've done when he went to Hogwarts.

Jen picked up one of the bottled Butterbeers and shook it from side to side. She’d wait until she got home to drink. Rob had restocked everything so if Christophe was going out then that meant she’d get a chance to drink something out of the cabinet. She took a corkscrew off of the table and used the top to pop the cap of the Butterbeer off. She lifted it to her mouth and drank some of the drink. She took the bottle away and dabbed the side of her mouth with her index finger. “Bless their hearts,” she smirked, “you’re so cruel.” She tapped the side of the bottle with her nails and shrugged, not really sure how to describe her life recently. “It’s been hectic, to say the least. I’d like to say Christmas will present us with an opportunity to rest but I highly doubt it.” Jen shook her head and drank some more of the Butterbeer. “C’est La Vie. How’ve you been?”

Jen couldn’t remember her sexual escapades, if any, from her school days. She’d been pretty darn studious but that was sort of a requirement for Ravenclaw wasn’t it? Her first kiss had been on impulse after a particularly explosive argument with her study partner. He’d been pleased to say the least. She punched that smirk off of his face the next day though. The detention was worth it too. But yes, she could recall when broom closet encounters made you the best thing since sliced bread. Now, as Matt said, it was all about showing it off. “Maybe it’s best to just leave them to it then,” she said with a small smile. “They can please themselves...or...each other,” she frowned slightly and shook her head. She looked up at Matt again. “How are your children?”

He poured himself some more punch, it was fruity. And he knew that he would probably be drinking most of it without Emmy around. She was at home, she was alone, she was a prime target for those after Matt. He still couldn't believe that after a damn year they were still after him for leaving the Death Eaters. And Emmy had already been captured once, Soph...well Matt lost track of how many times Soph was captured. But he blamed himself for all of them. Then there was his newborn twins, James and Madison. Oh boy were they in for a hell of a ride in the real world. She was telling him things now, he had expected a snooty retort or something. But Jen wasn't Rob he supposed, he somewhat missed Rob though. He was always so funny, and an excellent cook.

"Oh you wouldn't believe..." he began. "Soph was kidnapped again, I'm working double time at Mungo's now because Marriages are falling apart." he said. "And it's these kids who are in my office most, underage pregnancies, drug problems, potion problems, hell even drinking problems." he ranted. "Not once have I ever gotten a family problem though...so that's good. Plus it pays well so I'm perfectly fine." he finished. "Sorry if I ranted a little bit there, life is stressing." he chuckled as he drank some more punch.

Matt rarely did anything too terrible sexually in Hogwarts. Yes, he had seen his fellow Slytherins do bad things to some girls. Things he would never dream of doing...even as a Slytherin. "Yeah..well it's disgusting! Especially since Emmy isn't here." he joked. "Hmmm? Oh, well the twins are doing surprisingly well. I figured with me not being home they'd never recognize me. But they do, and Madi nearly crushed my nose this morning." he said rubbing his nose. Madi had quite the grip for a girl her age.

As Matt spouted off a list of what he was coming across at work, Jen idly wondered whether he was just spending his time talking to Elijah and Chase. Teenage pregnancies and various addictions sounded about right for those two. She couldn’t really do much for them though, not at this stage. She didn’t want to either. She didn’t really have the energy. Rob was a stone’s throw away from kicking Christophe out. David could stay but only because he at least tried to look after his own children. Christophe wasn’t nearly as helpful. Rob was at his wits end. Jen didn’t blame him either. It was getting ridiculous.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, “we all need to let of some steam once and a while. That usually includes a good gripe. I’m still waiting on the secretary Robert owes me.” She grinned. “There’s no way I’m doing all the sodding paperwork they give me. It’s a wonder there are any trees left really.” Jen was just looking for a window of opportunity where she could burn all of her paperwork.

She cast her eyes about the hall. It was all quite tame at present. No one seemed to be getting particularly racy. Jen frowned a little. She was getting old. She could feel it creeping into her mind. She was going to end up like her mother. Jen suppressed a shudder and drank some more of her Butterbeer. “Hmm...” she agreed with Matt absentmindedly. She looked at Matt and smiled a little bit. “Takes after her dad then does she?”

Matt chuckled at her comment, yes Madison did take after Matt more than James. She would be the one that would fight till the end. James didn't fight, he didn't cry often, he just went with the flow. Madison...well Madi was just like Matt. "Yeah, she does..." he said finishing another drink of the punch. He eyed the couples on the dance floor, people were finally starting to enter and start dancing. The rythm was too much for Matt, his foot began to tap on rythm with the music. It was probably the closest he'd get to dancing that night. He smiled to himself and took yet another drink.

"I don't get much paperwork really, it's just charts..." he told her. "Information I probably won't even need. But you get used to it." he told her. Matt was having troubles starting a conversation. But he knew Jen wasn't much of a talker. Where was Rob when you needed him? He could make a conversation about lawn bowling sound interesting, and spike your drink while speaking.

Amelia should not have been surprised by Peter’s easy answer to her comment about waiting around for princes; Peter seemed to have an answer for everything. It was as if he had practiced all these conversations over before ever having them with her, so he was infinitely more prepared than she.

That’s what happens when you interact with people on a daily basis, Amelia’s subconscious reminded her, You get better at it.

Despite the fact that every time Peter responded easily, it reminded Amelia of just how socially inept she was, she still found herself smiling at his words, though she forced herself not to grin outright. Instead, she found her eyes looking up and to the right, the way she did when she was slightly embarrassed by a thought she was having. Of course, at Peter’s comment, she had thought immediately of him, though that, she thought, had less to do with her thinking that Peter was the pirate she should be waiting for, and more to do with the fact that he was the only person she knew who would have liked to be one.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Amelia responded after a few seconds, too late for the response to seem natural, but not so long that the conversation had moved on without her. That happened more often than not, but it did have the benefit of exempting Amelia from having to respond, so she didn’t stress overly about it.

When Peter answered her question of whether Olive liked his gift, Amelia nodded knowingly at his response, understanding all too well how his sister would appreciate the book most. Although most children would balk at receiving books for Christmas, Amelia had been in the company of literature from such a young age that she considered books to be some of her closest friends. They were always around when she needed them, could take her mind off her problems, and best of all to Amelia, they never changed. They were predictable, steady, just the way she wished everything could be, but in real relationships, so often wasn’t.

With no other readily available conversation topics, Amelia was at a loss, and eventually ceased nodding and stood in silence beside Peter, watching the hall fill up. It was getting close to 8:00 now, so the ball would begin any minute. Just as Amelia had this thought, she heard Marki’s voice booming around the room, a voice Amelia recognized from having heard the girl talking to herself – and occasionally to inanimate objects – when they had been in the common room together. The DJ was announcing the start of the ball, and Amelia immediately looked to the area in which the champions were standing, each with their date. They would be the ones to start off the dancing, and in doing so, would give permission for the rest of the attendees to move onto the dance floor and leave Amelia with more breathing room on the sidelines.

Atypically, Arthur had brought his clothes for the Ball to his working place in Diagon Alley. He had been invited by Wilson to come and, since this would probably be one of the last chances he would get, he decided to accept. His dark combination wasn't that complicated, especially if you consider the fact that he was just there formally, deciding to wear plane shoes, instead of the dance ones his father had suggested. He changed clothes, combed through his hair with his right arm and put on his long coat and apparated to Hogwarts.

Upon arriving, he went on to find professor Wilson who was, as usual, in his office instead of the Great Hall. He had found out that his current mentor and employer, Doyle, did the same, while the three agreed that professor McCoy would keep an eye on the Great Hall. They had a brief chat when Arthur decided to go down to the Great Hall. He made his way through the familiar hallways of Hogwarts, greeting some of the portraits he had spoken with before graduating. It was, generally, still the same thing, although he was certain that things had changed more than severely. With the Death Eaters being now in control, and his mentor Trio being in the minority, things certainly weren't shiny.

As he came in front of the large portal leading to the Hall he stopped. He would have lied if he said he wasn't a tad afraid, but still, since he came here, he would certainly not pass the opportunity to see some of his old professors, if they were still working here, and some of his former colleagues, maybe even Amelia. He opened the large door, holding his wand, although that was a very irrational thing to do, and entered the Hall. He had come just right to see the Champions dance their dance. Being senior to all of them, he pushed his way through the bodies of students in order to get a good spot, a spot that would serve both as a good viewpoint and as a hiding place. As he managed to locate that spot, he looked around the hall, hoping to see someone he had interacted with earlier. And, he did, and it was, of all the people, Amelia. He smiled. He waved lightly, smiling, hoping that she would notice him. If not, he would have to push his way once more.

Checking herself in the mirror, Rebecca simply could not believe that she had reached her final ball- though out of her seven years at the school, she only attended about three of them. Staring at her appearance in the mirror, a smile spread across the girl's face, she was actually excited about the dance. She did not have a date, but that didn't mean that she would sit around in the common room and knit for the night. Boys weren't everything to Becca, after a few boyfriends, she had realized that life went on if she was alone. In fact, she thought that life was, in a way, easier without men: she wouldn't have to deal with the confusion and heartbreak. But, perhaps, Becca would meet someone at the ball, though it wasn't her intention, she could still have a little fun.

Leaning forward, Becca fluffed up her brown ringlets that stuck to her head, and grabbed her bag. After taking one last glance at her reflection, she hurried up to the ball, which, she hoped, would be a great time. Upon arriving, Becca noticed many familiar faces, she knew the names of most of them, but never actually talked to them- or had a decent conversation, at the least. She looked at all of the girls' dresses, and immediately felt overdressed. She didn't always like being the center of attention, this particular occasion included. There were many handsome boys there as well, which only added pressure to her. At this moment, she wanted to turn around and take up her own offer of knitting downstairs, but she would stay up here, she could make a good thing out of it.

Walking gracefully over toward the refreshments table, Rebecca poured herself a glass of the punch. It wasn't as good as firewhiskey, but it would do; she never even thought of smuggling alcohol into the dance this year. Taking another sip of her drink, Becca waited for someone to come over, or for a good song to come on, so she could begin a party of her own.

Julia sat in the common room in her slouchy pajamas, having no intentions on attending the Yule Ball. At first, she was going to go to the ball-with Scorpius as her date- but lately, she wasn't in the 'partying' mood. She watched as many girls, all dolled-up, and boys, some looking very nervous, passed by her, some giving her rather unusual stares. She was comfortable, but something didn't sit right in the pit of her stomach. She felt like she should be at the dance, it was her last one as a student, after all. But, she hadn't talked to Arthur in a long time, she figured that they weren't really a couple anymore, which lately had her down in the dumps. After some time of thinking about it, she had decided to go- plus, she just couldn't stand up Scorpius, the practical boy of her dreams.

Julia sprung up from the couch and got ready, moving with haste so she wouldn't be late. Her dress was a royal blue, and was mermaid-style; her brown hair was held tight to the right side of her face in ringlets. She looked at her reflection in the mirror which clung to the wall and smiled; she looked great. She hoped that it would be a good night, where she can throw her troubles and thoughts into the air and let her hair down. A party was actually just what she needed at the moment.

Reaching the large, open doors to the Great Hall, Julia looked around the ornate room. The tables were draped in shining silvery cloth, and decorated with large centerpieces- the school had always outdone themselves when it came to their Ball. Looking into the large crowd in the center of the room, she saw many faces that she could pair a name with, as well as some new people. Her eyes scanned the room for a tall, yellow-haired boy, but Julia found the almost opposite of what she was looking for. Arthur was standing in the center of the room, near the dance floor, and waving to a redhead she knew to be Amelia. She decided not to go near him, he seemed to be set for the night.

Sighing and hoping he didn't notice her, Julia walked over to the refreshments table. She looked at the sugary treats, placed gently on silver platters, and brightly coloured liquids which sat in large glass bowls. She didn't see anything that she really wanted, but she decided to hang around that location until Scorpius arrived. Her eyes peered around the room for Scorpius again, but she did not find him. She sighed and twiddled with her hair until her date or one of her closer friends were to arrive.