Yule potluck party post is here! Open RP for all school

[iam_beowulf]

On the day of the Hufflepuff-hosted potluck, the Great Hall had been transformed to accommodate the event, courtesy of Skwisgaar, a few of his bandmates, and several other helpful volunteers from Hufflepuff -- and one Ravenclaw. Skwisgaar and Toki's adoptive dragon-son, Smaug, had assisted with arranging some of the heavier items

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[arrogantmage]

So few people in Lezard's life -- throughout its various phases: as an unpopular and weird kid; as a rogue mage for hire; as a self-made god -- had ever thought to give him anything. Lezard himself was as generous as he was erratic; the efforts and the presents he made might be unwanted or even feared by their recipients, but no one could say he didn't put thought into them.

Snape's gift was clearly born of conversations they'd had about holiday traditions, and families (or lack thereof), and loneliness; and just as clearly, it took its cue from the bits of chocolate Snape had a tendency to bestow upon a distraught Lezard, when he came to bemoan various Hogwarts-inflicted slights. It was, in short, a thoughtful gift. What did you get for the mage who could summon up anything for himself? A thought; a warm gesture; an intention. Anything material was just tangible proof of that warmth, that intention.

The chocolate was less waxy than Lezard expected as he bit into a coin. He smiled one of his rare genuine smiles.

"Thank you."

Only then did he turn to Draco's gift, expecting some rote token of esteem, a discharging of holiday duty. Lezard had known kings and princes in his time as a court mage; their largesse was always impersonal. Instead, the gift Draco gave was a bit of wonderment, and Lezard was prompted to a second genuine smile.

"I fear my gift to you is not nearly so extraordinary, Master Malfoy." He summoned it up anyway: a flat rectangle wrapped in crushed velvet of a fuligin hue, that color which is blacker than proper black. The velvet was caught and fastened in a silver dragon-headed brooch; but to Lezard, all this was gift-wrapping. The real gift, the flat object inside, was a book

[methleigh]

Draco was watching Lezard closely, carefully aware it was not done to stare, so he moved his gaze to his hands, unwrapping his gift, to his face as well as he eyes when Lezard spoke to him. Thus he did not miss the smile, and returned it instantly. And then... a gift. For him. From Lezard.

"It's beautiful," he said honestly, even before opening it. He lost his shyness in wonder. He touched the brooch, for his name, and when he removed it, he re-fastened it just under his left clavicle.

But it was extraordinary. The Dance of Death. Why, it was something which might have been found in his own father's library, rich with leather and gold. He opened it. The Dance of Death. Why they were Death Eaters, after all. Such an old book. It might contain lost lore. Why, the Dark Lord himself might be interested. He was not too intrigued to remember his manners and smile back, however. "Thank you. It is wonderful, and doubtless contains much I could learn."

Severus smiled also and raised an eyebrow. "Is there anything in particular for him to note within, Lezard?" He was certain there must be, for Lezard was never frivolous.

[arrogantmage]

"It is, mostly, an aesthetic indulgence." Lezard looked on with pleasure. "This is not to say no lessons may be found therein."