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 OBERON THORNE on Jul 21, 2024 1:48:03 GMT -5
Oberon smiled to himself, as he continued to sway with Villen, the pair close to continue speaking lowly. He could almost feel her relax somewhat, physically, though the nod confirmed it. With the majority of the discomfort out of the way, perhaps there was time to enjoy the rest of the evening, and maybe unwind with some dancing and drinks. Admittedly those weren't what calmed Oberon down, he much preferred a rustic pub with a few shots of whiskey, but beggars couldn't be choosers...
"Alfie, huh?" Oberon glanced over to the man he pointed out, noting the baldness. "That's unfortunate, the unlucky sod. You know what they say about playing with potions..."
Truth be told, there probably wasn't a saying. Oberon didn't know one, anyway, but it just sounded appropriate. Still, it was nice to have a chance to put the thoughts of his father and half-sister from his mind, mostly, for a time. In fact, throughout the entire slow dance, Oberon didn't even look at Maeve or the golden masked fella. Not yet, not until there was opportunity. It also seemed the awkward dancing approach had done the job, as Oberon just largely stayed put and just held onto his date, even as she pointed out someone else.
Draco Malfoy, eh?
There had been a lot of buzz about Malfoy a few decades back, with all that Voldemort business. It was interesting to see a face to the name, at least presently. The information about Malfoy's wife was interesting, though Oberon couldn't recall her name for the life of him, but that didn't matter too much; perhaps there was opportunity for a job, though to be fair, Oberon wasn't really into handling problems without a bounty contract attached. So maybe not.
"Sucks to be him, I guess," Oberon said with a sigh, as he glanced to Villen. "I wonder if divorce is in the cards? I doubt he'd want heat on him if she accidentally fell down the stairs or something, right?"
A dark past led to assumption.
Nearby, some activity between the younger crowd caused Oberon to look over. He noted the hissed words, though he couldn't really make them out, and watched as one of the girls threw a drink over another young boy--
"See?" Oberon said with a motion of his head, trying to draw Villen's attention to the scene. "Those kids are out of control. Splashing everyone."
--and ironic, and actually amusing, as Oberon couldn't help but find the hilarity in his excuse being brought to life by nearby kids. Who would have thought?
"So, who else? I'm interested in your thoughts on all these pompous types," Oberon said, as he resumed looking about the ball. He adjusted his hands at Villen's back, shifting them more to her sides so he could look more easily, without breaking the embrace. "What about golden mask over there, the wolf? He looks intense, very scowly."
Post by DOMHNALL MCEVOY on Jul 21, 2024 4:34:45 GMT -5
As if in slow motion, the glass continued its airborne arch. Don's heart had just enough time to start sinking when the liquid splattered Rose, soaking the upper portions of her dress. Just like that, he saw red. The shock at being assailed morphed into anger at seeing his closest friend similarly wronged. His parents' lessons about not fighting girls were fading rapidly. Sure, girls were physically weaker, and using force against them was unfair... But that did not mean they should be allowed to torment others. Tossing drinks into others' faces was not a female prerogative.
He was about to disregard his determination to behave well for the Weasleys' sake, eyes already seeking a suitable projectile to launch at Danielle, when Rose fled. That stopped Don in his tracks. Running from a confrontation wasn't like her at all... His rage subsiding, the fourteen-year-old went after her without a second thought. He almost called her name, to try and make her slow down - following through the crowd wasn't that easy, he kept bumping into other guests. But he figured that she wouldn't want people knowing who she was - the situation had been embarrassing, but most of the witnesses wouldn't really know who the victim was. He figured she would want to keep it that way.
By the time he found his way out of the main hall, she was out of sight. There were people here, too. To his left, there were stairs - had she gone up there, seeking privacy? He made a few steps forward, but one of the guards blocked his way. "Can't go there, kid."
Don looked around, frustrated and increasingly worried. A few other members of security personnel were watching him, too. One of them, a young-looking witch, made a quick indicative motion towards a closed door nearby. He moved immediately, grabbing the handle and turning it. The sound of sobs startled him. Quickly slipping through the door, he closed it behind himself. He had never once seen Rose cry - she was always so tough and fierce. Seeing her like this felt so much worse than having a drink splashed into his face. "Hey," he whispered, his voice full of uncertainty. The top part of her dress was mostly ruined, some streaks seeping into the skirt as well. "It's okay, we can clean it up - I think there's a spell for it..." Sitting down on the floor next to her, Don tried to come up with a way to cheer her up. Normally, he was so good at finding something amusing to say. Now, though, he felt completely stumped.
Post by DEAN FINNIGAN on Jul 21, 2024 5:38:51 GMT -5
The reasons Noá provided were far more profound than Dean would have guessed. Did she really want to save the whole wizarding world? What her words portrayed sounded nearly impossible, but the girl's determination was inspiring. "That's a huge task to take upon yourself," he noted, more to show how impressed he was than to deter her. Noá's idealism was charming.
A male voice nearby interrupted them. The youth turned to face the new arrival, fully expecting that someone was about to try and steal his date for a dance. As he realised who the new arrival was, Dean's heart almost ditched him in its attempt to flee via his throat. Draco Malfoy, his face present on every other Chocolate Frog Card and occasionally adorning newspaper front pages, was an easy man to recognise - even when masked.
Completely uninterest in how his date knew Malfoy, or who the street rat was, Dean tried to think of a way to get out of the encounter quickly - preferably before the girl thought to mention his na--
"This is Dean. Dean Finnigan."
Too late. Crap.
"Nice dragon--" he bagan, immediately messing up the sentence he planned to utter as a diversion. "I mean, nice mask, is it a dragon?"
Post by CRESSIDA VILLEN on Jul 21, 2024 6:58:10 GMT -5
The implication that Malfoy would rid himself of his wife sounded ridiculous. Divorce would be gossiped about mercilessly, tarnishing his reputation - and taking away half his wealth, too, as Astoria wasn't likely to depart without taking significant portions of what her husband owned. "I doubt it, or he would be considerably poorer and less respected afterward." Cress glanced up at Oberon sharply at the nonchalant way in which he referred to a possible murder. "Right," she confirmed, harshly reminded of the man's nature. She had only killed once, and it hardly counted - a werewolf who purposefully bites others is hardly a human. Wolfe, on the other hand, had killed scores... So many that he no longer valued human life - if he ever valued it in the first place.
A commotion nearby drew her attention; four kids seemed to be in a disagreement about something. One of them, a girl, quickly threw two drinks before storming off, two others fled. Oberon's words made her turn back to him. "Oh, you fell victim to an angry teenager? I do wonder why Nero's security is so lax... they should have escorted her out by now, if she assailed an adult guest like that."
Nearby, another couple's dance was interrupted by Malfoy's approach. Cress glanced at them curiously, recognising Dean and wondering why the Gryffindor was acting so uncharacteristically nervous. Meeting a famous Pureblood shouldn't mean much to him - his parents knew scores of famous people, and the eighteen-year-old himself was already a professional Quidditch player.
"So, who else? I'm interested in your thoughts on all these pompous types."
Cress sighed, prepared to seek another victim for their silly game, when Oberon picked one himself. The blonde searched for the man he described. A wolf? To her, the mask looked more like a bear - though perhaps only because she knew its wearer. "Magnus Bhaer," she whispered, confused as to why Oberon would single him out right after mentioning his interest in pompous types. Compared to most others, Bhaer looked fairly modest. His being an Animagus was a fact worth mentioning, since Oberon was one too - although an unregistered one. She was just about to open her mouth when she realised it was not a great idea to share information about one of her own, especially with a bounty hunter she did not trust. Magnus Bhaer was a Ministry employee in a similar line of work as herself; Oberon Wolfe was practically a criminal. Her allegiance would not be swayed so readily. "I don't know much about him."
To avoid suspicion, she kept talking - for she noticed the redhead Bhaer was dancing with. "And that's Maeve Thorne. She transferred from Durmstrang four years ago. There were rumours of her connection to the Dark Arts, though she maintains that her interest lies in its theory alone." She knew Maeve quite well, as both of them belonged to similar high society circles, and had even visited gatherings at each other's homes. Of course, due to Cressida's half-blood status, the Thorne heir held her at arm's length - even if gently so.
Post by SAINT LAURENT on Jul 21, 2024 8:15:39 GMT -5
It wasn’t just butterflies that ran through Saint’s stomach as Emrys gracefully placed the flower through her hair. Though it seemed Emrys didn’t understand that the flower didn’t actually work with her outfit, she was thankful to meet someone who was at least trying. Smiling behind her mask, she nodded softly. “ Well it wouldn’t be too much fun if you knew who I was straight away. “ She teased winking an eye through her eye hole of her mask as the butterflies continued to play around with the other animals in her stomach. It was like the whole cast of Lion King. Had come to life, naturally, she wouldn’t say that of course.
“ Madame? “ She repeated back not sure on how to take that comment. On one hand, she knew that Emrys was just being a gentleman but on the other hand, she wondered if she looked old enough to be considered and given a madame status. “ I’ll only go if you hold my hand. “ She then reached out her arm waiting for the boy to take it.
Post by ROSE WEASLEY on Jul 21, 2024 11:19:36 GMT -5
Feeling the door open behind her, her sobs halted as she glanced up, seeing the one person she most wanted and least wanted to see at that moment. The mix of emotions was confusing to Rose and she didn’t fully know how to react. She simply stared at him as he entered, her sobs turning into mere whimpers as she struggled to contain her tears. She did not like crying in front of others, and she particularly did not want to cry in front of him. Only when he spoke, trying to comfort her that her dress was salvageable, did she finally manage to find her voice. Shuffling away from him as he sat next to her, she blinked at him in utter bafflement, like he was an alien, or a puzzle she was trying to solve.
“You think,” she wiped her eyes under the mask, sniffling as her tears receded. “You think I’m upset about the dress?” Her tone conveyed the incredulity of his assumption. How could the boy be so daft? “I don’t care about some bloody dress!” She bellowed, standing up as her emotions morphed from hurt to frustration. No longer surrounded by strangers, and now alone with the only person she could think to blame at that moment, her anger finally came up to the surface. “My mum could fix this in an instant,” she stated, motioning to the large dark green wet patch on the front of her dress. No, the dress was the least of her concerns. Bringing her hands to her face in exasperation, she ripped off the mask and threw it to the ground, utterly and completely done with the whole ordeal of that night. If she was going to confront Don, she wanted to do it face to face. No masks. No bullshit.
“Don, what happened out there?” Her bright blue eyes fixed onto his, flashing with all sorts of emotions. Pain, confusion, betrayal… and perhaps just a smidgen of hope that this was all just some ridiculous misunderstanding. “What did you do to Sofia? And why did she think I was your…” She hesitated to even say the word, her heart tightening uncomfortably at the mere thought. “Is that what you’ve been telling people?” Her voice cracked as she asked the question, hot angry tears threatening to spill over at the idea of her best friend spewing such lies, but she held them back. She was done with tears. She wanted answers. “Why else would she think… I mean it’s not like we…” Her thoughts were spiralling as she tried to make sense of the events of that evening in conjunction with her own emotions, eyes searching Don’s for something, anything, to make sense of it all.
TAGGED: DOMHNALL MCEVOY Notes: Rose's dress and mask. difficult to recognize, except to those who know her well.
Post by SOFIA ABOTT on Jul 21, 2024 12:01:32 GMT -5
Sofia said nothing as she was forcibly dragged away by her sister. What could she say? Seeing Don and Rose together had hurt and maybe she might have even thrown the drink herself. Maybe she wouldn't have. But the choice had been taken from her in a flurry of chaos and now she was following behind her sister like justice had been served, had it? She wasn't sure. It was all very confusing.
Of course, in true Danielle fashion, just two minutes later she was left alone as her sister busied herself with someone in her year and Sofia waved her off as she trudged her way out into the gardens and sat miserably on the bench to contemplate how she'd ended up upset over flipping Don Mcevoy again.
ROSE WEASLEYDOMHNALL MCEVOY (mentions) OOC: Sofia's dress &mask.. Recognizable to those who know her well. NPCing: Danielle Abott, Sofia's older sister, 16, Slytherin. (For the final time)
Post by DOMHNALL MCEVOY on Jul 21, 2024 12:04:54 GMT -5
Staring at Rose in confusion, Don didn't know how to respond to her outburst. She appeared to be angry at him now, so angry that she didn't even want to sit side by side. That had never happened before. He had seen her annoyed, but her irritation had never been directed at him like this. So she wasn't upset about the dress, okay... what else could it be? The public scene that drew people's eyes could be it - she wasn't usually shy, but she did seem to be uncomfortable today.
"Don, what happened out there?"
That was an odd question to ask, since she had been present. Danielle went crazy and threw drinks at them, right? It was all the older Slytherin girl's fault, so why weren't they now thinking of all the ways they could prank her as payback? Why was Rose shouting at him? He stayed on the floor for now, stunned and a little upset that his friend was turning against him.
"What did you do to Sofia?"
He sighed. The answer to that question had come to him a few months ago, during Valentine's Day - though, of course, he didn't mention it to anyone. It seemed private, so private he felt that even he should try to forget it. He had failed to comprehend the girl's feelings in time, and now she hated him, and it seemed that Rose was about to hate him too. Was it all his fault? He was starting to feel like that was the case, even though what he considered to be the logical part of his brain kept reiterating that all these girls were just being stupid.
Worst of all, Rose was upset about the possibility that he might be telling people she was his girlfriend. It stung; how could she think he would do something like that? Don looked down, eyes fixed on the carpet underneath him as he pulled off his own mask and tossed it to the floor; both the inside and the outside were stained with whatever drink Danielle had poured on him. His eyes still stung from it, too. He didn't know where to begin explaining this mess.
"Sofia likes me. Or liked me, at least. I mean, I thought we were just friends, and I didn't see her that way..." Well, that was a terrible start - he sounded like a complete jerk, the words coming out of his mouth all wrong. The rest began spilling out faster as he tried to explain himself. "And when she confessed, she, well... she had this whole allegory about a chair she loves, and how that chair wants something else, and I only later realised I'm the chair..." How was he supposed to unravel what she was saying at the time? Just about every other way of telling him that she liked him would have been easier to understand!
Looking at the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath him was easy, but he felt cowardly for not meeting Rose's eyes. He made the effort to look at her, flinching at the anger he saw on her face. "And I never told people that you and I-- I mean, I never-- I wouldn't... I wouldn't lie about that, Rose." His momentum was faltering now, as he reached the more painful part of the ordeal. "I'm sorry," he added, once again not sure what he was apologising about but feeling that it was needed. This seemed to be a perpetual theme when interacting with girls.
Post by DRACO MALFOY on Jul 21, 2024 12:19:20 GMT -5
"Oh, good." he said at Noa's revelation that she had not, in fact, brought the street rat along. "I've had enough women at my throat this evening." he waved his hand and took a drink.
He paused, though, at her next words. Dean Finnigan. A name he didn't at all recognise but for some reason, he felt he should and he tipped his head as the man began speaking, amused when the words seemed to get caught in his mouth. He was patient though, figured he might as well let the man right himself. "It is." he confirmed and then lifted it briefly so he could get a better look at him. "Do we know one another?" he asked - it wouldn't be unheard of. He opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by a very flustered-looking Robert.
"Sir, there seems to have been some commotion over by the drinks table-"
"And you are telling me, Robert, why is that?" He asked, exasperated already. "Go and tell the staff." he pointed and let his mask fall again before turning back to Noa and Dean.
OOC: Draco's mask and outfit. Yes it's a dragon. He thinks he's funny. NPCing: Robert - a trainee at the ministry who hangs on Draco's coat tails.
Post by NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM on Jul 21, 2024 12:42:54 GMT -5
"It's very tragic, so utterly tragic that I bury myself in the soil with the plants each night," he deadpanned but then softened into an amused sound, "It wasn't nearly as bad as it sounds. They were rather nice," he admitted.
At the mention of her family, he followed after her nonplussed. He had no qualms about letting her lead their evening. He was here to make his donation and show his face, or rather, not show it at all and hope no one knew who he was.
As she began speaking, he reached over to grab two drinks from a passing tray and offered her one as she nodded his head in greeting to her family. "Lovely to meet you all." he said and took a sip of his drink.
Post by ROSE WEASLEY on Jul 21, 2024 14:07:23 GMT -5
Despite Don’s attempts to avoid her gaze, Rose’s eyes remained on him as he explained what he knew of the situation, his shoulders slumped as if in defeat. She felt a pang of guilt at the sight. Seeing her friend visibly upset, apologizing to her for something he was adamant he had not actually done, helped tame the anger growing in her chest. He seemed to be honest, at least from what she could tell, and so far he had never given her a reason to doubt his sincerity. Sure he was a Slytherin, but he was also her best friend.
Realizing that her anger might have been misplaced, and hating to see Don so upset, she heaved a deep sigh and sat back down next to him, letting her gaze fall to the carpet beneath them. “I’m sorry…” she mumbled, slightly embarrassed for her fit of rage, obviously misdirected in the moment. “I shouldn’t have… I mean I know you wouldn’t…” She struggled to find the words to accurately capture what she was feeling, letting her sentence trail off in defeat as her brain worked through all the new information she had just received.
So, Sofia liked him, and he didn’t like her back. That somewhat explained Danielle’s reasoning for pelting him with a drink, although Rose did not feel it warranted such an extreme punishment. However, it did not explain her accusation of Rose. Why did Danielle think the two friends were a couple? Was there some rumour going around Hogwarts about the two that Rose did not know about? Or had it simply been because the two had been holding hands during the confrontation? Just the memory of her hand in his caused her cheeks to warm and she glanced over to the boy next to her, wondering if there had possibly been more to the innocent gesture.
"And when she confessed, she, well... she had this whole allegory about a chair she loves, and how that chair wants something else, and I only later realised I'm the chair..."
The silence between the two stretched as Rose pondered on Don’s words, brow furrowed, staring at the carpet in concentration. The whole chair allegory was confusing to her as well, she wasn’t surprised Don hadn’t clued in immediately - although to be fair she had not been present at the exchange, and so didn’t know exactly what had been said. There was one part that struck her however, looking back up to Don for an explanation. “What did she mean by ‘the chair wants something else’?” She finally asked. “If- if you were the chair… what did she think you wanted?”
Post by OLIVIA MULCIBER on Jul 21, 2024 14:15:54 GMT -5
"Abott's sister looks like she's about to birth a kneazle."
The comment alone was amusing enough to make Olivia grin. She glanced to where Drake was looking, curious to see what he meant. The scene was unfolding fast; she got to see a drink being thrown in McEvoy's face, and then a redhead girl in a green dress being splashed with another one. Even without any context, the sight was so hilarious she laughed out loud. The Mudblood, and whoever his friend was, deserved what they got - and more, really. A blemish on the Slytherin house, McEvoy shouldn't have ever come to this event. The hosts made it a little too open to the public, in her opinion.
As they took the starting positions for a waltz, Olivia endeavoured to compose herself. So far, the evening was going so well. If only she could get closer to her parents and her uncle without being noticed - it would make it perfect. After the dance, maybe.
"You look pretty."
His words only widened her already-wide smile. She knew she looked pretty, that was kind of the whole point of dressing up, but being told that she succeeded boosted her pride. "Thank you. You look very handsome, too - I've never seen you in a suit before."
Post by THALIA BURKE on Jul 21, 2024 21:26:05 GMT -5
The event looked grand - and it seemed like everyone had been invited. There were so many people, most of whom her mother seemed to know in some capacity. Thalia, however, struggled to identify anyone. She did spot Draco Malfoy, who nodded at both her parents. An older gentleman, his voice vaguely familiar, greeted the family and even complimented hers and Charlotte's dresses.
"Thank you, sir - yes, we selected them ourselves," she answered, ready for small talk at such events. Though not quite the social butterfly her mother was, Thalia was still able to handle these interactions in a refined manner. It was not particularly enjoyable, though. Her eyes soon began wandering again, searching for anyone she might know - or anyone around her own age.
A younger girl appeared nearby, addressing Charlotte with an enticing invitation. Thalia watched the strange apparition, the pastel dress and blonde hair creating an angelic impression. The girl seemed eager to rescue the poor six-year-old from dull company, and Thalia briefly wondered why a twelve-year-old could not be granted such a celestial saviour as well.
Since Dad allowed Charlotte to go, Thalia no longer needed to babysit her younger sister - she was free to roam. With a quick glance at her parents to make sure this was the case - Dad nodded, and that was all she needed - she turned and departed the company. After passing only a couple of people, she saw her cousin and quickly recognised her companion, too; Ella and Ezra were chatting about something, and she knew she would be welcome to join. Instead, Thalia changed direction, moving further away from them. Later, if her search proved futile, she would know where to locate them - but for now, she had to at least try finding him. Behind the lightly ornamented mask, her eyes were sharp as she searched the variously concealed faces of people around her, moving at a measured pace so as not to overlook anyone.
Post by CALVIN KLEIN on Jul 22, 2024 3:59:19 GMT -5
Calvin removed his mask as he glanced over to Maeve once more before giving a slight head nod. He could sense a sort of tension between Desiree and her. Naturally, Calvin would of course support Desiree throughout the whole interaction. He finally broke his stoic expression as he followed Desiree over to other parts.
He managed to bump into Heirans and Bastian. “ Hello you two. “ He greeted momentarily before taking amount to pause. “ Desiree, this is Bastian and Heirans. They’re at school with me. This here is Desiree. My girlfriend. “ He introduced. Feeling sillly for introducing two younger students to his girlfriend. Calvin was legally an adult still in school which seemed a little confusing to others let alone himself. He smiled at all three of them. “ Well, we have to keep this brief as there are others we have to say hello too. “ He responded leading the path toward the drinks.
Post by OBERON THORNE on Jul 22, 2024 7:07:00 GMT -5
Oberon couldn't disagree with Villen's assessment of Malfoy and his situation, especially with how trivial and superficial wealthy individuals and families could be. Even though Oberon had been absent a good portion of time, traveling the world, he could recall impressions from his childhood that supported that line of thought. Appearances. It was all about appearances. Her demeanor seemed to shift depending on what Oberon said, which wasn't ideal, but it was what it was; he could hardly expect someone he met on a bounty hunt to trust him with personal thoughts, beyond the mundane or easily shared.
"Kids will be kids, I guess," he murmured, wondering if he noted sarcasm. Probably. "I don't think I recall ever being that dramatic as a teenager... times are changing."
Still, Oberon's interest piqued when Villen mentioned the name of the intense individual in the gold wolf mask. Magnus Bhaer. It seemed that sir had a name, and now Oberon knew it. Sadly there wasn't much else to add from his companion's side of things, which was disappointing. But, at least it was something. When Villen added Maeve Thorne to the sharing, he glanced over again and nodded, showing interest - if only to support the game, as it were.
"Anything worth knowing about her? Does she secretly dye her hair?"
Oberon smirked under his half-mask, before he continued to scan the ball guests. It was interesting to learn Maeve had transferred from Durmstrang some years prior, which implied she was either attending Hogwarts or had recently graduated. The connection to Dark Arts was also a nice bit to know. But, to avoid seeming to fixate too much on his half-sister, Oberon looked to the man he understood to be the host for the evening.
"What about the host? Nero?"
It was entirely possible that Villen was nearing the end of wanting to take part in the game of observation and sharing, so Oberon planned to put some distance between the golden mask and Maeve, just to be sure. The last thing he wanted to do was have Villen sniffing about, wondering why he lingered on the redhead and her partner, and his having to do something drastic to keep his secrets as secrets; as it was, Villen was nice enough and didn't deserve to be killed for poking into his business...