Welcome to TB, an all levels Harry Potter roleplay with no word count. Our purpose is to go through the books with one exception: the addition of original characters and what changes that makes.
We accept all beings and creatures in the Harry Potter verse including ghosts, veela, muggles and even centaur.
We have many active events ongoing for both students and adults and many characters and locations around the world.
Come join us and discover how your character can grow and evolve in the world of Harry Potter.
Post by NOÁ OLIVAR on Jul 16, 2024 11:50:21 GMT -5
Noá arrived with Dean, to a mansion of a name that she's only ever heard whispers in passing about. She agreed to go because attending aligned with her mission to become an Auror, and knowing that Fabbio Nero is number 1's most wanted meant she could learn more about what she potentially might be up against. Noá had never been to anything extravagant before, especially not to a manor such as the Nero's. She shared Dean's sentiments about the size of the place, although the little voice at the back of her head wondered if she could get away with taking a thing or two from here and it would go unnoticed. "I've never been to a place as beautiful and large as this, no." She replied, voice laced with the impressionism that she felt.
Preparations for an event like this was something Noá overthought about leading up to it. The little money that she had went towards her time at Rutherford, which meant she had to get resourceful in order to feel like she even remotely fit in. Noá knew that she would look good in just about any color that she settled on because that's the one and only advantage she felt being Part Veela would give her, otherwise the genetic was just a burden and forger of false relationships. Hopefully Dean would be different, and see her more for the fun-loving adventurous spirit that she is. Which prompted her asking him moments after they stepped inside, "So, do we have to wait to dance?" she peered up at him with her dreamy, sparkly eyes through the red mask she sported to match her dress.
Post by CASSIOPEIA BRONTË on Jul 16, 2024 12:59:42 GMT -5
Cassiopeia was no stranger to masquerade balls and glamour. She arrived alone, unaccompanied. Being alone was not a deterrent to her. She was an independent woman, and carried herself with an air of confidence.
She made her way over to the bar and took a goblet of red wine. This was useful, at least. Once the wine was finished... it would blend seamlessly into her other beverage. The wine was sort of pointless, but it made for a good placebo.
Cassiopeia made her way to the dance floor as she finished her drink, and she began to dance alone. She jived, closing her eyes and letting the music take over. She was oddly enchanting, unlike a veela of course, but there was an odd sort of allure that often envelopes those who are unafraid of glances.
[open!] ooc: dress shown here and mask shown here. recognisable to those who might know her.
Post by CORALIE NOTT on Jul 16, 2024 13:18:13 GMT -5
Coralie loves events like this and any reason at all to dress up. And to pick up on the latest fashion trends in the Wizarding World. She had spent extra money for this event to splurge on the highest bit of fashion she could find. The dress she selected was a bold one due to the front cut being a bit more exposed than what might be considered "standard", but it was a choice she made in the name of hoping to be the best dressed at this event. Coralie expected many high profile magical folk to be in attendance and she made to make an impression.
She made sure to help Katie with getting ready for the event too, as much as the little girl would allow her mother to anyway. Coralie was a great respecter of independence in her children. Of course, she assisted Theodore with his tie.
When entering the manor for the first time, Coralie immediately felt the extravagance of this event. It distracted her for a moment while she looked up at the high ceilings, getting some inspiration for their own home. Someday they could have something large like this if Coralie managed to research something large enough to profit off of, she knew she was capable. It was Theodore's voice that broke her out of this momentary trance. "Best behavior, you two. I don't want to hear of any mischief tonight," then she managed her best possible smile. "Be polite, too. And don't wander anywhere you are not meant to." Coralie felt a bit of worry having Abraxas with them, because the child was not actually theirs and the sense of responsibility it brought was so unknown to her.
She hooked arms with Theodore. "Look at how grown up they look, Cor." Silence was between them for a moment when she glanced at Katie especially. Pride swelled her, she did look so beautiful and grown up. Soon she'd be off to Hogwarts and Coralie knew that would be a moment of emotions for the both of them. "It's remarkable," she quipped, and then, "Do you know much about the Nero's?" There was rumors of course, given Giovanna's fugitive status. And Coralie wanted to remain unbiased towards the rest of the family, but couldn't help but feel this lingering meaning of influence that Giovanna could have over her family. She hoped Theodore could put it to rest for her so she could properly relax this evening.
And you bet she will be having some champagne if it is offered.
OOC: Coralie's dress & hair, as well as her mask, recognizable to those who know her
Post by MILES WILDE on Jul 16, 2024 13:25:02 GMT -5
Miles is a party animal, and a healer. Both of these things meant that a masquerade ball for charity was right up his street. Of course, he looked great. His eyes sparkled behind the mask and he was wearing his most favourite cologne.
He loved the attention as he made his way through the door with a few colleagues. His laugh was perhaps the first feature that other guests may have noticed. From the minute he stepped in, it was clear how jolly and bubbly he was. He took a few canapés from a rather attractive waiter and whispered a few words in his ear. They exchanged a couple of winks and, once again, Miles let out a loud laugh.
He moved over to the bar, gravitating away from his colleagues slightly. He ordered a goblet of fruity cider and took a seat whilst he finished the drink.
[open]
ooc: miles' outfit is shown here and mask is shown here. recognisable as he has his healer badge on his lapel.
Post by EMRYS SOFTROOT on Jul 16, 2024 13:41:14 GMT -5
Unlike most of the other guests, Emrys chose not to circulate in the main ballroom. He found himself just outside the main door to the estate building, sat beside a rose arch. He felt a little too uncertain to go in alone, and he wanted to wait to see if Saint would be arriving soon too. He had mentioned it to her, and it felt wrong for him to just go in without her.
There were a few floating candles around him, probably to light the passageway for guests. He watched the carriages come and go, the broomsticks land in the grounds nearby. It was a beautiful night. Clear enough to see the stars. His hair slowly transitioned to a soft navy blue as he let his mind drift and his focus remain on the stars. He wondered if there may even be some opportunities to network here. Of course Salvatore was the head of department, but nothing would stop Emrys making some good connections.
[open, SAINT LAURENT tagged] ooc: emrys' outfit can be seen here and his mask is shown here
Post by SAINT LAURENT on Jul 16, 2024 19:36:20 GMT -5
This was the first time Saint had been invited to any type of Charity Ball and excited was an understatement. As always, she was fashionably late but she wanted to selected a gown that would somewhat correspond with what Emrys was wearing. That and because she was able to put on a full face of makeup. She had her hair in a French Roll style of look and wore a traditional but modernised version of a Filipiniana which paid homage to her Filipino roots.
Arriving outside, she noticed Emrys at a far distance and a smile automatically appeared on her face causing her cheeks to blush slightly. " Emrys." She called out waving her hand in the air as she elegantly walked over to him. The two had been seeing each other for some time now but had yet to make things official. More to the point, he hasn't kissed her yet, maybe today would be that day.
Post by DESIREE FONTAINE on Jul 16, 2024 23:34:28 GMT -5
Desiree smiled at Maeve’s slight dig as to her unique dress, fully realizing that her vision was not appreciated by the more traditional girl. Not that she was surprised. It was bold and fashion forward, something severely lacking in English fashion, at least in her opinion. “Merci. It is the latest Temime, imported from France,” she replied, brushing past the veiled contempt, instead choosing to use the opportunity to brag about her designer gown. While she realized not everybody would appreciate such a stand out piece, it accomplished exactly what she was hoping: to stand out amongst the crowd.
Her eyes widened slightly as she realized Maeve had already met her partner, at school no less. She felt a bit silly for not having realized sooner, although it was quickly mitigated by Calvin’s smooth entry into the conversation, handling the flub with grace. She flashed him a small smile in thanks, appreciating his support in such moments.
She's the current Head girl amongst other things.
“Oh really? I am surprised you never mentioned,” she replied with a cock of an eyebrow, genuinely surprised to not have heard of such a feat from the girl herself. Maeve actually seemed quite humble about the position as she addressed it, which was odd given their relationship, but appreciated. “The two of us have known each for years through our families,” she informed Calvin. “We keep in touch when possible, although it has been a while since we have seen one another in person.”
Her smile wavered slightly as Maeve apparently tried to sow discord between them, pointing out the length of time during which the two would be apart as Calvin finished his schooling. While Maeve concluded with the hope that they would make it, calling them a “fantastic couple”, Desiree doubted the sincerity in those words, although she wasn’t sure why. True the two young women were competitive with one another, yet she could see no ulterior motive for such odd commentary on the couple. Surely Maeve was not interested in Calvin.
Tough times don't last but tough people do. Desiree, is there other people we'd like to meet?
Desiree smiled at her boyfriend appreciatively for his apt interjection, happy to hear that he would not let such words waver his commitment. She nodded to his question and opened her mouth to answer affirmatively, when a stranger interrupted their conversation, asking Maeve for a dance. Desiree blinked a few times in shock, particularly when the redhead seemed to accept the invitation. Did she know this man? His face was completely covered, obscuring his identity, but from what she could see he appeared several years older than them. Perhaps that was why he had asked Maeve, considering her attire was better suited to somebody twice her age.
“You too, we shall keep in touch.” With that Desiree bid adieu to her friend, turning her full attention to Calvin next to her. “Should we grab a drink and continue mingling?”
Post by ROSE WEASLEY on Jul 17, 2024 0:04:42 GMT -5
Reaching the drink station, Rose grabbed a glass of pumpkin juice and downed half of it in one shot, hoping to hide her burning cheeks from anyone around. She felt like everybody was staring at her, although that was probably far from the truth. The normally tomboy-ish girl simply felt completely out of place at such a fancy event, dressed in a flowy dress and ornate mask.
The dress was modest but very complimentary, contrasting nicely with the beautiful gold mask featuring half a butterfly. Her fiery red hair, pulled up into an intricate braid, was the only real identifiable feature left. Well that and her bright blue eyes, somehow more striking from behind the mask. All in all, one could say she was quite pretty, a definite contrast to her usual appearance, but unfortunately also very uncomfortable for the young girl who did not feel like herself at that moment.
She jumped a little when Don spoke next to her, having completely forgotten about him upon entering the hall. The realization made her feel extremely guilty, her cheeks somehow burning even more. “No, no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there,” she mumbled into her drink, avoiding looking at him. He was the other reason for her discomfort. She had invited him in the hopes having a friend would help her relax. Unfortunately, having him there dressed in a suit, and her in that ridiculous dress, only increased her discomfort. She didn’t know why, but she was more nervous looking like that around him than anybody else, constantly worried she would do something wrong and embarrass herself.
His suggestion to explore the gardens was enticing, although his reasoning, exploring their plant variety, was puzzling. Finally chancing a glance over at him, she raised an eyebrow quizzically, smirking at him in amused surprise. “Since when are you into plants?” She teased with an awkward laugh, hoping to diffuse the tension within herself. She took another sip of her drink as she surveyed the crowd, sighing before continuing to speak. “Maybe later. I feel my mum would be upset if I just ran off and hid the whole event. Do you see anyone you know?” She knew other students would be attending with their families, although so far hadn’t been able to recognize anybody personally. At least not anybody with whom she cared to socialize.
TAGGED: DOMHNALL MCEVOY Notes: Rose's dress and mask. difficult to recognize, except to those who know her well.
Post by AURELIA MULCIBER on Jul 17, 2024 7:32:36 GMT -5
Placing her hand in Neville's, Aurelia made a few more graceful steps towards the center of the room before turning to him. "I shall try to keep up," she joked, her free hand finding his shoulder. As a scion of a wealthy Pureblood family, Aurelia had received dancing lessons at a young age. She maintained the skill well-honed by regularly attending formal functions.
"When did you learn to dance?" Although Neville's blood was just as pure as hers, his family was not often seen at high society gatherings. His upbringing was still largely a mystery to her - she knew he had been raised by his grandmother, but not much else.
Post by ALISTAIR SEBASTIAN THORNE on Jul 17, 2024 8:02:51 GMT -5
Once again, Astoria Malfoy was not near her husband during a formal event. Alistair concealed his amusement as he acknowledged the Head Unspeakable. "Draco." Seeing the only remaining Pureblood branch of Burkes nearby, he made a step in their direction when someone brushed past him with an apparent lack of care.
"Excuse me, apologies."
Not recognising the man, Alistair abstained from reacting - the offence was too minor to address it. Instead, he approached Pansy's family. "Preston, Pansy, great to see you again. And you brought your daughters... Thalia and Charlotte, yes?" He looked at the two young girls with a jovial smile, their names duly memorised - just like the names of most other notable Purebloods and their offspring. "What lovely dresses, ladies. Did you pick them yourselves?"
Post by OBERON THORNE on Jul 17, 2024 9:38:09 GMT -5
Oberon was relieved when Maeve agreed to the dance, though he had been prepared to mingle had she decided to stay with the pair she spoke with. As the middle of the room was reached, Oberon turned and fell into a dance step. He presumed that, being who she was, Maeve wouldn't miss a step either. Once the dance began proper, it was an opportunity to begin learning more about his half-sister, be that as it may.
"I'm glad to have the opportunity to speak with you," Oberon started as he offered an easy smile, leading the steps to the soft music. "My name is Arthur Wattle, I work at the Ministry."
As Oberon turned the direction, he glanced around the spacious room. He narrowed his eyes briefly, as he thought he saw an individual watching, but continued on without pause.
"I'm an acquaintance of your fathers, and thought it would be nice to find out more about you, Maeve. How is your final year at Hogwarts? I've heard you're quite the academic!"
Oberon smiled again, as he changed direction and moved past another couple that danced. He kept things vague to avoid raising suspicion from Maeve, keeping some of the information he had found out to himself, instead prompting with questions that would - hopefully - expand on that knowledge. His demeanor remained bubbly and happy, as though getting to speak with her was something he had aimed to do at the ball, and it had been... for different reasons.
He also wanted to see how much Maeve shared.
Or didn't.
"Have you given much thought to a career after graduation? No doubt a Head Girl thinks about the future?"
ooc: Has changed into another mask (2) & high-end dress robes. Not recognized by anyone, other than Cressida.
Post by MAEVE THORNE on Jul 17, 2024 11:43:19 GMT -5
She recognised the melodic note, even though she had not heard it in years. Her wand was warning her of peril - a rare quirk, granted to it by the core of Horned Serpent horn. Nested in a holster strapped to the crus of her right leg, the wand was fully concealed by her long dress. She already regretted not attaching it to her belt, where it could be accessed easily - it would have made her feel safer. Casting wandlessly was a skill she was still learning, and most spells were far weaker when produced in such a manner.
The last time the wand sang for her, she was meeting Father for the first time. No harm had come from him since, except for immense pressure for her to be perfect in every conceivable way. However, she had suspicions about what Alistair Sebastian Thorne was capable of, and wondered if her wand had picked up on it during that initial encounter.
This mysterious man could be just as minacious.
Julian's question, uttered during a lesson on wand lore several months ago, was brought to the forefront of her mind. Do you believe that if someone near you were a traitor - or had ill intent toward you - that your wand would react? Ill intent... Could that be it?
She had no way of confirming the notion, nor of extricating herself from the interaction. Smoothly turning to face him, she arranged herself into a waltz stance. He led well, allowing her to trust him as a dancer - though not an inch beyond that.
"I'm glad to have the opportunity to speak with you."
His voice, although amicable and pleasant, was unfamiliar. He knew her, or knew of her, but she could not place him. If the two had ever met before, no more than a few words had been exchanged. Maeve took in the meagre information he provided, committing his name to memory. Arthur Wattle. Arthur Wattle. Arthur Wattle. She did not know of anyone named Wattle - he could not belong to a noteworthy Pureblood family. However, the Ministry was filled with half-bloods who wanted to improve their standing by inserting themselves into aristocratic circles.
The redhead allowed him to speak, wishing to gather as much knowledge about him as she could before the conversation inevitably turned to her. He claimed to know her father, which was likely true - the man knew everyone worth knowing at the Ministry, as well as scores of those who were not quite worth it. Which group Wattle fell into, she could not say. His effortless steps showed his familiarity with ballroom dance, which in turn hinted at elite upbringing. And yet, Father had never mentioned anyone by that name. During the last few school breaks, she had met dozens of his connections - all wizards and witches in high positions, and some smaller fish he believed she should know. Was Wattle someone she might have been introduced to at a later time?
"I've heard you're quite the academic!"
That was something her father would mention to people he knew. At times, it felt as though he only wanted her to study eighteen subjects so he could brag about it to his friends. Just as she opened her mouth to answer, the cautionary tone sounded again - quiet yet clear, not quite fitting with the music that was playing. "The final year is as challenging as one might expect. I will be taking a handful of N.E.W.T.s in a few months," she responded after a pause that was only a beat too long. Her tone closely matched his liveliness - imitating others' demeanour was typically the safest approach to superficial conversation. The answer was vague, but she did not wish to give the man any more insights into her life - not before she found out more about him.
"Have you given much thought to a career after graduation? No doubt a Head Girl thinks about the future?"
"I plan to work at the Ministry," she responded, quicker this time - albeit without providing details. He had not shared what his job at the Ministry was, and thus did not earn a more specific answer in return. Her gaze shifted away from Wattle, momentarily seeking out her father. She could not break the dance off before the music stopped - it would contradict the grace he expected of her.
One more note rang out, fairly insistently now - it was as though her wand was upset that she did not heed its warning. Her eyes returned to the stranger; she was becoming too aware of his arm around her waist, and of the fact that her right hand was trapped by his fingers. "What department do you work in?" she inquired, keeping her eyes on the masked face. He seemed eager to learn more about her; keeping his questions at bay with some of her own was her only defence. "And how do you know my father?"
The waltz piece was ending now, the last notes gently telling the couples to prepare for the next dance. Another cry escaped from her wand, more audible in the quieting space. Their steps had slowed, finally coming to a stop once the music ended. "It was delightful to dance with you," Maeve remarked, the praise expected at this point. She could have called him a good dancer instead, but chose to utilise the past tense in hopes of indicating her preference not to continue for another turn. Their dance did not last for a full number; if he insisted on another one, refusing would be rude. She had no option for escape - other than hoping that he would catch her hint and accept it.
Post by JULIAN MULCIBER on Jul 17, 2024 19:33:41 GMT -5
Manoeuvring naturally through the growing crowd so as to not let anyone touch him, Julian kept his eyes peeled for any familiar faces, leading his sister as the two of them trailed their father, keeping a purposeful distance. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized immediately, though he really needn't consider it a possibility so soon for his fathers lack of public appearances since moving to England meant that many of the younger generations would not know who he was. Annabelle, too, would not give him away to any but the shrewdest of his circle: he had never introduced his sister to those closest to him, and had no photographs of his family displayed in his dormitory for any to behold, in fact, he wasn't even sure he had ever uttered her name. Tonight, however, she would certainly catch attention. Dressed in a fine silk gown, she shimmered with each step as the hand sewn embroidery caught the twinkling lights overhead. She looked every bit a child of nobility - light as air and warm as the morning sun.
He felt pressure on his fingers underneath his black gloves then, hearing his sister question him on his friends, and whether she would get to meet any of them. She sounded eager, and he wasn't certain if that bode well for him. "It should not be difficult to find them should they have attended," he responded, not being one to deny his sister if he could help it. Although the two of them were completely different in personality, Julian almost envied her enthusiastic approach to the world around her, and did not want that spark to die. His eyes lingered on Annabelle for a brief moment, feeling her fingers wound through his. He did not flinch at her touch as he would others', their bond ran deep.
"Would you like to dance with me?" A timid voice cut through his thoughts, and Julian removed his gaze from Annabelle to behold the interloper - a young woman, dressed in sapphire silks and a feathery mask, probably very pretty, looking right at him - so he supposed she hadn't been asking his sister. No familiarity - likely the daughter of someone important. Julian did not require a moment to think, "no," he rejected the idea without another word, seeing his father moving again ahead. He brushed past the woman, stepping back into line, ignoring the soft whimper sounding out from behind him. He had no interest in frivolities - not with her. His eyes returned to the back of his fathers head as he circled the room, draining his first glass of the night and placing it upon a passing waiters tray, immediately taking another. Julian clenched his jaw, but swallowed any words of distaste, given their surroundings. If his father wished to make a fool of himself - so be it.
He looked ahead, still not having caught sight of any of his allies, "perhaps I spoke too soon-" his voice drained away, gaze landing on the unmistakeable profile, the golds of her dress sparkling with her movement. She was here, accompanied by someone much younger - a sister, perhaps. He hadn't known she had a sister. He watched her a moment longer than he should have - not having seen her outside of school before, especially not in formal attire. There was a man addressing the pair - older, grey at the temples. Their father had paused again, deep in quiet conversation a few feet ahead. Julian turned to his sister, "I would not ask you for more," he began quietly, seizing his chance while their fathers back was turned, "and I will introduce you to anyone else you prefer after - distract the younger sister for me." He inclined his head toward the Burke's, "you are charming, I doubt they will deny you." If Annabelle could steal the younger one, even for a single dance, Thalia would be free for a few moments.
Post by MAGNUS BHAER on Jul 17, 2024 20:43:12 GMT -5
He continued to watch the pair as they took to the floor, slowly circling around the mingling crowd to gain closeness - if only to catch whispers of their conversation over the orchestral music. He attended to it as he would any situation in which he was required to gather intelligence - survey and listen. Although he was acting purely on a hunch, his hunches had never failed him before. The ease of which the man directed his steps spoke to his poise and footing - he was lithe, balanced: not someone who would normally bump.
"--Arthur Wattle... Ministry," Magnus had averted his eyes from the two, looking down at his glass as he swirled the liquid inside thoughtfully at this new information, ear turned towards them so as to better overhear. The music was loud, but his senses were keen. Arthur Wattle was not a familiar name - though that could be entirely coincidental, the Ministry was large, and employed many people. The man had not mentioned his department, but it was certainly not law enforcement, and nor was he of any departments that worked alongside the Aurors. Strange - given his build and lightness of foot, Magnus would have assumed he belonged with his ilk, rather than someone with a cushioned desk job.
An arioso note played - soft, yet jarringly disproportionate to the current orchestral playing. Magnus tilted his head toward the dance floor, where the colours of many gowns swirled, led by their partners. Had he imagined the note? Unlikely, but then again - perhaps someone in the ensemble missed a note. Would Nero have hired such novices? Also unlikely.
He shook his head to clear it, continuing to circle through the bystanders that lingered on the outskirts - wallflowers, waiting their turn to dance. A man passed by then, tall, dark in features, the scent of firewhiskey trailing him, Magnus inclined his head briefly to note the man - followed by two youths - wondering if he would be trouble later, given the strong scent.
Dissuading himself from the distraction, he turned his attention back to the pair dancing - he remained fairly close by, and they seemed to still be in polite conversation, though the body language was palpable. She had turned her head away from him - back toward where she had come from - seeking a way out. Magnus followed her gaze - catching an older gentleman, smiling, engaged in conversation with a family. He would not help her. Another note - more direct this time and definitely not an orchestral mistake as the music began to slow and soften. Magnus recognized the sound upon his second hearing - a warning - emitted from a wand. He had come across such protective instruments before - albeit rare. It belonged to the woman, and it sounded urgent. Magnus placed his drink down immediately as the couples on the floor slowed to a gradual halt. He moved through the now stationary dancers, easily approaching the two just as she praised the older gentleman.
"Excuse me," he interjected as politely as the situation called for, voice muffled by his gold mask - he was amongst many elite families, and as such, Magnus knew he had to act the part. He could not use his usual methodology to interfere, especially as he had no real evidence of foul-play. He looked at the man directly, searching, though there was little to see through the intricate cut-work of his mask. He had no chance of identifying the male, but perhaps an opportunity would arise later. He turned his grey-blue eyes onto the young woman, "I would be honoured if I could have this next dance," he held out a hand for her to take, "you cannot possibly horde her the entire night," he added with a hint of faux humour, louder, to the man, hoping to dissuade any debate.
Post by ELLA LILLY BURKE on Jul 17, 2024 21:27:10 GMT -5
Ella felt like she was in one of her romance novels as she walked into the grand hall at Nero Manor, accompanied by her parents and twin brother. Dressed in a long dark green dress, embroidered with twisting vines and flowers, she gazed about the room in awe. The decor, the gowns, the masks, the couples dancing in the middle of the room; it was all a sight to behold. Her identity partially concealed behind a green and purple mask, adorned with more vines and butterflies, Ella was only truly recognizable by her bright red hair, tumbling on her shoulders in soft curls.
“Do you recognize anybody?” She whispered to Dustin, finding herself struggling to make out any familiar faces behind all the masks. Her parents seemed to have no problem distinguishing guests, as they made their way over to their aunt, uncle, and cousins. She was about to join them, excited to see Thalia in attendance that evening, when she glimpsed another familiar face standing alone near the drinks table. Even behind a mask she could easily distinguish the features of one of her best friends. Deciding to find Thalia later in the evening, she signaled to Dustin her intentions and made her way around the edge of the room to Ezra, feeling he was probably more in need of company than the former.
“Guess who?” She greeted jokingly as she tapped him on the shoulder, fully intending for him to recognize her instantly. “Well don’t you look dapper tonight.” While she said this with a laugh, purposefully looking him up and down in an exaggerated fashion, her compliment was fully genuine. The pair had never really seen each other in such fancy attire before. It was definitely a shift from the norm, although not unwanted. Grabbing herself her own glass of butterbeer, she joined Ezra in looking about the room. “Have you seen Blaise yet? I don’t remember if he said he was attending or not.”