Night is a world lit by itself

Another weekend, another ball. What else was new?

Amelia sighed as she looked in the full length mirror of her dormitory, turning this way and that in her dress and checking to make sure that she hadn’t missed some invisible wrinkle or speck of dust. She was a perfectionist to a fault – was there any other kind? – and this process had been going on for quite some time.

As usual, going to this ball had not been Amelia’s idea. Her parents were going to be out of town – her mother at a concert in the states, her father out on one of his sabbaticals – and thus they had appointed Amelia as the representative for the Lyons family. Appointed her without her consent, mind you. But then again, that wasn’t all that different for them.

With her class schedule, imperium squad duties, and sanity preserving extra-curricular activities, Amelia hadn’t been able to come home to go shopping with her mother for the gown she would be stuck in for the Ministerial Ball. Amelia hadn’t known at the time if this would be a blessing or a curse; shopping with her mother was a trying experience, but not having any say in a gown she would be forced to wear in public was a bit daunting. To be honest, though, Amelia likely would have had little say in the dress choice anyway.

The dress had, thankfully, arrived by post yesterday. Amelia wasn’t all that worried, because she could easily have worn the same dress she wore to the Yule Ball, but her mother would likely have a small stroke if Amelia wore the same gown to more than one formal function. Her mother did not believe in recycling formal attire, so Amelia was thankful to receive the oversized package, if only to avoid the drama of dealing with Antoinette.

Upon opening the parcel, Amelia had found a black gown, simple at first glance, but Amelia knew her mother better than that. After she had taken it out of the box Amelia had noticed the crystal encrusted neckline and the daringly open back. The fabric of the dress was smooth and when Amelia had tried it on, she knew her mother’s work was exquisite; the dress fit her like a glove. The black was dramatic against her pale skin and red hair, but in a way, it suited her, at least from the front. The back, with its dramatic plunge leaving the curve of her spine exposed... that was another story.

Having already stalled long enough, Amelia sighed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, applying lipstick as her mother had insisted she do just before turning on the spot and apparating to the Ministry of Magic.

The Ministry was already crowded, everyone coming out in their finery to hear about the new appointment to Minister. As a citizen of the magical community, Amelia was mildly interested in the announcement which was to take place tonight, but not so much so that she was excited about this event. Amelia wasn’t great in social situations, and not having a date tonight meant she would either sit alone – which she could probably handle – or be forced to make small talk with whoever deemed her worthy of their interest – which she would probably fail dismally at.

Here goes nothing, Amelia thought, walking into the main room where the celebration was to take place, letting her eyes dart around the room and take in the decorations and guests. If nothing else, tonight would be a treat for her senses; everything, it seemed, glittered and shone as if brand new.

((Amelia’s gown:

Spoiler:

))

((This is the original post I put in the ball thread, but since no one ever responded to it, I am just recycling it here. I hope you don't mind.))

Not attending the Ministerial Ball had never been an option nor would it ever be.

His mother was taking this ball more seriously than most but that was to be expected. It wasn't a silly Valentine's Day or some other lame holiday's dance but there was actual political importance behind the whole charade. As Lucinda would have said, 'anyone who is anyone will be there.' Even though he understood the importance of announcing a new minister he had still been sorely tempted by the idea of feigning some sort of illness.

Obviously he didn't actually go through with it.

Aside from pleasing his parents, he did have an ulterior motive for attending the ball; one which confused him. Amelia would be there and that was enough to give him an extra push. He didn't know much about her but ever since he had interrupted her private violin party, he found himself thinking about her an awful lot. There was just, as cliche as it was, something about her that made her different than all the rest.

Landon's head started twitching as though it was desperate to shake out thoughts of Amelia. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to be thinking of someone like that...it was just that he thought of her more frequently than he should given how little he knew about her.

There you go again. Stop thinking about her. His eyes looked up towards the mirror, scanning his tuxedo with a meticulous eye. His mother really had gone overboard this time. Normally just a suit of sorts would do the trick but not for this particular ball. He grimaced as he imagined what sort of over-the-top dress his mother would be wearing. Hopefully he'd be able to avoid her for most of the ball.

After running a quick, careless hand through his hair he made his way down towards Hogsmeade since that was the only place nearby from which he could apparate. The Ministry was crawling with people which made it easy for Landon to avoid his parents but made finding specific people all the more difficult. He could see his cousin off dancing with some guy he didn't know (he would be talking to her about that later). But he continued to search the room until he saw Amelia...which took a while because she had her back towards him.

After making his way over towards her, he stood beside her. "Fancy seeing you here Ms. Lyons," he greeted with a slight smirk on his face. Without giving her a real chance to respond he added, "So where are these boys I'm going to have to beat in order to dance with you?"

Outfit:

Spoiler:

With all the buzz and hubbub around her, it was quite easy for Amelia to blend in with the crowd. As was fairly typical, Amelia knew far more people than knew her. Amelia had met many of the upper echelon of society at her parents’ numerous events, but she wasn’t a particularly memorable person among this crowd. She was too quiet, not gossipy enough. The women liked to hear stories about who was doing what and with whom; the men liked to tell stories of when they were younger. Being a better listener than a talker, Amelia had always curried more favor with her father’s friends, though they weren’t particularly great at remember whose ear they had been chewing off.

Amelia walked slowly through the throngs of people, taking in everything around her. Conversations, shouts of exclamation, the heavy scent of cologne and perfume, mixed with the acidic smell of liquor. Amelia could sense the tensions among the ball goers, everyone trying to uphold their image to the most impressive they could muster. It seemed her mother was not the only one concerned with appearances, if the way the women tugged at their dresses and the way the men’s eyes darted down to their neckties every few minutes was any indication.

To tell the truth, Amelia was not altogether disappointed not to be attending this event with a date. Having an escort meant making small talk, which kept her from doing what she did best: blending in and observing. Being natural quiet and inquisitive, Amelia learned a lot about the world around here merely by passing through it unnoticed. Although she would have liked to dance at least once or twice – she had not taken all those bloody ballroom dance lessons for nothing – Amelia knew she was unlikely to be asked. The few people here that did know her would avoid her like the plague, and even those that didn’t could probably sense the chill which kept people at bay. It was part of her aura.

Well you might get a dance if he comes, Amelia’s subconscious offered as Amelia stopped moving, having reached a decently secluded spot in the room which still held a good view of the goings on. The thought was shaken from her mind a few moments later, though, Amelia not wanting to hold out hope for something that was improbable at best. She had met Landon once, and more than a week ago now. He was likely to have forgotten their encounter completely, though Amelia hadn’t.

She hadn’t forgotten it at all, actually, despite her many attempts to push it from her mind. She hadn’t been consciously dwelling on the meeting, but whenever she let her mind slip from its rational grip, even for a moment, she found it wandering off to a certain blond Slytherin boy. It was foolish, Amelia knew, to be so childish about the whole thing. She was independent, and she didn’t need to spend her time wondering whether or not she would see him again. She didn’t need to see him.

But she wanted to. And it seemed Amelia would get her wish.

Amelia was eavesdropping on a conversation of the people in front of her, discussing the newly announced minister at a rate of a mile a minute, when she heard a familiar voice from alongside her. She had been so deeply involved in the conversation in which she was not actually taking part that Landon’s voice caught her by surprise, and she turned abruptly to see him standing next to her, that characteristic smirk pulling up the edge of his lips.

He looked… striking, Amelia settled on finally after running through a list of potential adjectives. Handsome, attractive, dapper, all of these had been candidates, but she had settled on striking because, well, she had been struck. His jacket was made of a fine material which looked as though it would be soft to the touch. His dress shirt was cut exactly to fit his form, topped off with a bowtie that might have looked comical on someone else, but seemed oddly to fit him. Although this was far more formal than she had seen him upon their initial meeting, Amelia somehow still felt as though Landon were in his element, at ease despite the change of scenery.

“Mr. Rooney,” Amelia echoed with the same formality, smiling in spite of herself and with no logical reason. He had remembered the joke she had made in the study room, something that both surprised and delighted her, again without her knowing quite why.

“You just missed them,” Amelia replied jokingly, somehow managing to string enough words together to answer Landon’s question. This was actually a feat, considering the amount of sensory stimuli she was exposed to now that Landon was standing near her. Not only did he look good, he smelled good as well. A different cologne this time than what he had been wearing in the study room.

Of course, they both knew – at least she assumed Landon did – that there had been no such boys, nor were there likely to be. Without Antoinette running around encouraging the “most eligible bachelors” to share a dance with her daughter, Amelia had made peace with solitude for the evening, but perhaps those plans would change. The real question was, if they were to change, would Amelia fight it, or go with the flow?

Her scent alone was intoxicating. He didn't know if it was her perfume or just the way her hair smelled but it was just another physical stimuli which only added to his hormonal overdrive. Landon had never been one who had given much attention to how one smelled, well unless they smelled horribly, so it was strange for him to notice that sort of detail. Though his attention focusing on the curves to which her dress hung on perfectly was something he wasn't surprised that he noticed. However he made sure not to let his eyes linger too long; he didn't want her to think he was being disrespectful.

The dress was beautiful in itself though she didn't seem all that comfortable in it. He thought it fit her rather nicely. It was rather elegant and poised, something which demanded attention which he felt the person who wore the dress demanded that as well. How was it that he had never noticed her before a week ago? He found it odd that he could have walked by her without giving her a second thought and they had obviously crossed paths at some point or another.

He took note of the smile on her face which got his ego revving just a little bit. It seemed as though it was a genuine smile as well, not just one she put on because she was in make-polite-conversation mode which Landon would have been in if it weren't for Amelia. She was saving him from more than forced small talk with his parents' friends though. She was also helping him with his parents though he hadn't realized that until now.

Normally at events like these, his parents, or well his mother, would try and set him up with the daughters of her friends. They usually weren't girls he felt anything towards - amicably or romantically. Though he was sure his mother would take one look at Amelia and approve of her - why wouldn't she? Then he could be left in peace for at least as long as he was with Amelia. But now he couldn't help but wonder what her parents did and well just who they were. It would be the first question his mother would have asked but he was genuinely curious.

From their previous conversation he had picked up on the few hints she had given him towards a less than close relationship with her mother. But what about her father? What did they do for a living? Given how nice of a dress Amelia was wearing, he could only imagine that they had some sort of wealth. It wasn't that he really cared about that sort of thing, far from it actually, but things like that helped shape a person whether they want it to or not.

Landon chuckled when Amelia told him they had just left. "Good thing because I forgot to bring my stick," he joked back. Angling his body more towards her he extended his arm forward in the formal escorting position, "So does that mean I get a freebie?" he asked with a falsely confident smile on his face. What if she straight out rejected him? Well, to be honest, that would probably just make him try all that much harder.

If Landon was giving her the same once over she had given him, Amelia hadn’t noticed, probably because she was having a hard time keeping her eyes off of him. Amelia was reserved when it came to making conversation and didn’t particularly like people invading her space, but she was still a sixteen year old girl. She still had wants and needs, though she tended to ignore or suppress them most of the time. It was only very rarely that Amelia allowed herself anything more than noticing that someone was attractive, much less lingering on it for the full minutes she had been since Landon appeared beside her.

The finery of Landon’s clothing suggested, as it had upon their first meeting, that he came from a family of means. On that first night he had been more subtly showing that he came from good breeding: the love of literature, slightly more expensive fabrics, even his method of speech gave him away. Tonight, though, the finery in which he was dressed and the fact that he had received an invitation at all suggested that his parents were well off. Also, no one looked quite so at ease in a crowded ballroom unless they had spent a great deal of time there.

Too bad all your time in ballrooms hasn’t made one iota of difference in your comfort levels, Amelia’s subconscious grumbled, annoyed by the tightening in her stomach at the prospect of having to be at the ball which, admittedly, had faded somewhat since Landon arrived.

Curious by nature and always striving to fill in the blanks, Amelia wanted to ask Landon about his family, but she avoided it for two reasons. One, she usually left those types of questions to her mother, who was infinitely more interested than she was, and two, Amelia did not want the questions turned around on herself. Some questions about her family were easily answered, but others… others took more explaining than she would likely be capable of.

Amelia was grateful that Landon was able to take her joke in stride, impressed both by her own ability to even make a joke at a moment like this – it was much more in her nature to stutter awkwardly – and by Landon’s aptitude for finding just the right thing to say. His words also indicated that he had remembered their conversation from that night, which might mean – Amelia was not one to make assumptions – that he had been thinking about it at least a little.

If he’s given it one tenth the thought you have he’d remember that much, Amelia’s mind said offhandedly, though there was truth to the statement.

Amelia allowed herself a brief bit of laughter to accompany Landon’s chuckle. What he said had been mildly amusing, and she could use the outlet for her nerves. Amelia was already nervous being at the ball before Landon had arrived; he and all his handsome glory didn’t help calm her stress.

As her laughter died away, Landon turned slightly and his arm appeared in front of her body, horizontal to the floor. Amelia knew what this meant even before his question was posed, but she had not been expecting him to phrase the invitation in such a casual and comical way. The broad grin on his features suggested that he was hoping to elicit a response, which Amelia attempted in vain to hide.

After only seconds of remaining straight faced, a smile spread across her features as well, shaking her head slightly at the absurdity of it all. She was being asked to dance by a boy she hadn’t even known a week ago, a boy who had enough charisma and natural likability that he should have run the other direction when confronted with Amelia’s reclusive, silent self. And he was funny, and willing to put up with her. These seemed contradictory to the redheaded Ravenclaw, but yet managed to coexist.

“Well, with an offer like that I don’t see how I could refuse,” Amelia finally responded after meeting Landon’s gaze to judge if he were really offering or merely making another joke. A brief internal debate has caused the slightest bit of hesitation before speaking, but Amelia hoped Landon would have either missed or ignored it. A sprinkling of laughter accompanied her words, and just a hint of facetiousness to comment inaudibly about the less-than-common means of asking her to dance. Having given her acceptance, Amelia placed her arm lightly around Landon’s outstretched arm and waited for him to lead her to the dance floor. With her arm touching his, suddenly she could no longer make eye contact with him, and she averted her gaze to the other couples already twirling around to the Viennese Waltz, the slightest hint of crimson rising to her cheeks.

Under other circumstances, Amelia would likely have turned down anyone who came to dance, or rather wouldn’t have to because there would be no one to turn down. But Landon was still intriguing to her. Her mind tried to convince her that the reason she acted out of character around him was because he was he was a puzzle she wanted to solve, and as soon as she figured him out she would detach and go back to her usual ways. But her body… well, it didn’t quite agree.