Hogwarts Ball - Concert and Dancing

[fi_admin]

Date: Saturday, 03 March, 2001
Time: 7:00pm
Location: Hogwarts
Rating: PG
Characters Involved: Anyone who wishes to attend

Comments

19:05

[diva_myron]

And so this was it: the new era for the band had started. With one last nod thrown his bandmates' way, Myron led the band to the stage. (But really, wasn't it something much bigger than a stage?) To thunderous applauses of some hundred (and still arriving!) guests, Myron strutted his way through to the front wearing a mysterious smile and a bluish-gray suit with a silken taupe shirt inside. Needless to say, he was beauty incarnate. Albeit, a very peculiar beauty: thin and tall and very pale, like an undertanned solar plant somewhere in Arctica. Or not

Re: 19:05

[fire_n_freckles]

Ginny's smile could not have been wider. She was one of the lucky ones seeing this concert for the second time in her life. Of course, the first time she had been there with Neville, and this time, she (more or less) had Harry on her arm. Her dress had become tighter after the meal, and she suddenly wished that she had had the smarts to just come in something lose. But it was what it was, and quite honestly, she loved it.

She moved around the room, trying to find Harry; where had he gone off to? She saw many familiar faces, but none were his, and she began to get a bit frustrated. He should have never left her side! Now they would never find each other...

Re: 19:05

[thelastgranger]

There was a glimpse of red hair, a dash of green and Hermione had grasped the youngest Weasley's shoulder.

"Ginny!" Hermione had to hold back some obnoxious squealing as she wrapped her arms around her friend. "You look so beautiful!" She observed the other girl with a fond eye, her hands on her own hips as she looked her up and down.

It was her own fault really, for letting so much time pass since they'd last met. Hermione remembered having organized The Weird Sister's to play at Harry and Neville's birthday party and while they weren't her favourite band, she associated them with fond memories.

Ginny wasn't the only one to misplace her date in the crowd, Hermione assumed he'd be with his sister, or some other familiar face.

Re: 19:05

[fire_n_freckles]

A little giggle escaped her as she returned her friend's embrace.

"Hermione!" she squealed, equal parts mocking her friend and excitement at seeing her. At the compliment, she struck a pose, showing off the beautiful gown she had (more than) splurged on. She hoped that this dress would be something she could wear again. And again.

"You don't look so bad yourself!" she called over the music, admiring the red gown. Hermione had just about the best curves. "I haven't seen you all evening! Where have you been?"

19:10

[diva_myron]

"Lipgloss just as shiny as ever, eh?" Myron spoke grinning, as he caught his breath from the earlier performance, which included striking extravagant poses, walking back and forth, and jumping from time to time. (Sometimes it seemed as if though his energy resources were inexhaustible.)

"Well, I'm a coward, see-" he started the in-between the songs talk, allowing for his band to relocate and re-arrange their musical pieces for their next song. "So I decided to start with a well-liked song so that we would not be egged, ahem." Myron laughed, enjoying himself and the audience, as he sat on the edge of the stage, legs dangling from it freely. "But, all good things must come to an end- so here we go, just please, be merciful with us!" And with one single effort, Myron rose, turned away from the audience and stroke a dramatic pose as the first notes from their next song leaked into their air.

"Mis-Shapes," Myron announced in a whisper and moved a hand as the song began flowing fully.

Re: 19:10

[callsmyname]

She kept to the edges of the concert, not wanting to get shoved around out on the dance floor. Besides, she didn't have a dance partner, and it hardly seemed fair to flaunt it.

Though, a lot of people had come dateless. What made her so special?

She was nervous, that's why she was special. She had been gone so long that people barely recognized her; the run in with Dean earlier proved that much. And the best way to get over her nerves was to stay as in control of the situation as she could.

So she stayed to the sides and just watched everyone around, and the band, and the many people screaming. (That last bit gave her a bit of a headache.) But it wouldn't do to go home and be a total recluse. No, this was a nice compromise.

And really, a cheap concert was always nice.

Re: 19:10

[silhouetteatrox]

He was so bored. So bored. So very, very, very bored. If only he could go backwards, and sink into someone [plummet to their heart like a stone in water]--then perhaps he could have some fun. The flashing lights and the music danced in his too-big eyes, whilst the throng of fans at the concert pulsated before him. He'd leave his mark, when he stalked through them.

He and Lila had made eye contact a few moments before; they would leave soon, his not-lips decreed. They would leave soon so he could possess her and devour her, and spoil her milky skin. She would not resist; she was an addict now [he could already hear her gasps and cries--she was so pathetically his, despite her ferocity, that he knew he would not be able to stand her for long].

But what to do for now? The music was hardly to his taste, but he prided himself on his dancing and felt that the obligatory turn or two across the floor would be at least a passingly entertaining time-filler. People were an endless fascination, after all, especially those mindless

Re: 19:10

[callsmyname]

She couldn't say what it was exactly that made her turn. But it's like in the novels you read, or (if you had any muggle blood) the movies you watched. It was like she could feel someone watching her. Something in the back of her neck, the hairs standing on end and the shivers that started there, made her search for the perpetrator.

And yet, she found no one. There was a man near by, who looked to be older than her (and quite cute, honestly), and his glance occasionally wandered her way. But he wasn't staring, not by a long shot, and so, who was? It made her all the more uncomfortable, knowing that someone out there could be taking note of her every move. She simply needed to get away, or busy herself, or find this creep and hex him

19:14

[diva_myron]

"We want your homes,
we want your lives,
we want the things you won't allow us.
We won't use guns,
we won't use bombs,
we'll use the one thing we've got more of - that's our minds.
And that's our minds."--

"Yeah," Myron finished the song with its last accord, as Kir dragged out the last note high into the evening sky. Walking up to the very edge of the stage, he leaned forward to peer at his audience, "So how did you like that?" His sunglasses had been lifted, resting a top of his head, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. The faces before him seemed to be inscrutable, or perhaps it was just his own anxiety. It had been, after all, a few years since the band had actually worked on new material. Even if he had started writing the majority of lyrics a few months after the temporary disbandment of the band. Suddenly, he felt like back in several years in the beginning of their musical journey

Re: 19:46

[billthedefender]

Why the fuck had he thought being her was ever going to be a good idea? Fleur had decided she didn't want to go, for a whole lot of reasons Bill was sure didn't make any sense. So he'd come on his own, struggled through the memorial and now... He was doing his best impression of the least approachable man in the world.

Ah whisky, how would he have ever gotten through the night without his dear, full bodied and well aged friend.

The music caught his attention, having been a huge fan of The Weird Sister's a few years back and there was no evidence they were loosing their touch. Bill had found himself a friendly corner, back to the wall as he surveyed the dancing and socializing guests. His free hand rested in the pocket of his casual outfit as he wasn't really the type for anything more formal. Inside his pocket he fiddled with his ring, twisting it around his finger.

Was it too early to leave yet?

Re: 19:14

[mostfalldown]

Fern had been quick to join the dance floor when the Weird Sisters had begun playing. It had been so long since she'd ventured to London's dance clubs-- long before the war had truly started. As she danced amidst the small crowd hovering around the stage she realized how much she truly missed it. She also realized just how out of shape she was now from what she once had been. As she pushed her way from the dance floor she told herself it was the heels of her shoes that had done it.

When she finally reched the edges of the great hall she took a moment to smooth the layers of her black and gold dress, the undermost clinging to her legs as she moved. The once perfect curls of her strawberry blonde hair had already started falling, something that was only made worse as she brushed the locks away from her face. It was in such action that she would catch sight of a familar face

Re: 19:14

[billthedefender]

Maybe ten years ago he'd have been up the front, hair wild from the energy of the dance floor. Ten years ago he'd have lost the night and the morning to the pulse of the music. But ten years changed people and awful lot.

The fair haired girl was familiar and when he partnered her with his whisky, her identity became clear. He hardly recognized her wound up and wrapped up in such a package.

"I'm going to try." Bill replied, although there was a smile to his voice and his eyes, even if it didn't twist his lips.

"Having a good time out there?" He asked, genuinely curious. He wasn't out there himself, may as well live through her a little. "It sounds great." Yes, once upon it was his scene, he'd even had himself a pair of Dragon Hide Pants at one stage... The white shirt and black pants had been a better choice for tonight

19:20

[diva_myron]

"End!" Myron threw his hands sideways, embracing the whole world. "Your usual Monday morning, eh?" he said to an older-looking woman, who was instantly flustered by his attention. With a lazy smile, Myron moved to the other corner of the stage and saluted the audience there- simultaneously searching for familiar faces in the crowd.

(The one and only-- can you guess who?)

"And now: Bar Italia," he announced without pausing for too long.

"Now if you can stand,
I would like to take you by the hand, yeah,
and go for a walk,
past people as they go to work..."

Re: 19:20

[birdwotcher]

Before the music had started, Tonks had been grateful for the chance to sit down, if only for a little while. Now that that time was up--had been up, really--she was seriously considering removing said shoes and just hope that no one would notice. Twenty minutes into her favourite band's set, and already she was ready to murder someone with her ridiculous heels.

Nursing a flute of champagne, she remained off to the side as she listened to the band play. The Weird Sisters -- even after a number of years, she was still a fan, and she tapped her pointer finger against the flute in time to the music. This song especially she loved. Thankfully she'd been spared having to dance with anyone yet tonight, but it'd been a close call all around, really. She had received a few compliments on her dress though, which had been nice, especially in the wake of Snape's sharp comments

Re: 19:20

[subtle_simmer]

"Come, Nymphadora. You must not allow me to win my prediction as to your fate in those shoes so easily," drawled Severus in his most sardonic tones as he slipped through the shadows behind her. "This will never do. You chose to wear the idiotic things, now you must suffer the consequence."

He deftly collected her champagne glass and deposited it on the table before holding his hand out to her.

"I have come to collect my dance," he demanded. At least the shoes would make her nearer his height, thereby making it an easier job to keep her on her feet when she stumbled.

Re: 19:20

[birdwotcher]

Looking up at the sound of that all-too-familiar voice, Tonks wondered if this evening was ever going to end. There'd been the faint hope that she'd get away without dancing at all--Snape had seemed busy enough, dancing with others and all. But no. Of course not. Her luck just didn't run that way.

"At this rate it'll be both of my ankles," she said, a hint of darkness in her tone. Squeaking out a slight protest when he took her flute from her, she nevertheless took his hand somewhat reluctantly.

"Don't spin me," she warned, "else I really will break something. I can't spin on flats, let alone heels." Taking a few semi-shaky steps closer to him, she wondered how her fifteen-year-old self would've reacted to the knowledge that over a decade later, she'd be dancing with her Potions Professor while in heels. Probably fall over laughing, she figured, at the absurdity of it all.

19:24 to 19:45

[diva_myron]

With the end of each new song, Myron established contact with the audience- chatting away, joking. As if everything was alright, as if everything was going as it was supposed to go. Very few must have noticed (among them, his bandmates, who were feeling the same way, although to a lesser degree) how extremely pale he looked, and how sharp his gaze had turned from nervous tension. Myron truly felt like he was yet again a teenager being tested by a panel of merciless judges.

After Bar Italia there followed Disco 2000, a sweet and nostalgic song (that some would more than definitely be rumouring to be inspired by his childhood reminiscences). Then there was Live Bed Show, a somewhat of a social commentary- and then a break in the stream of songs, each completely new and unheard of yet

19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

The event for the evening had been called a ball. After the dinner and the presentations, Conall had guided Hermoine to the dancefloor, to the concert that had been organized in the honor of festivities. Though he didn't quite dance in such a way as those around him (making the age gap between them horribly awkward, no doubt), he still attempted to dance with her as long as she'd allow.

However, there was something that had troubled him through the dinner. A lack of understanding of what the day was really about. He'd stayed silent through the speeches and presentations, letting the words and images drift by him as they brought many around them to tears. And now, not even the exertion on the dance floor could stray his mind from his confustion.

"Hermoine," He said softly, grasping her hand tightly as he spun her in the final notes of the music. "May I ask you a bit of an awkward question?"

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

Hermione herself wasn't the sort to jump up and down to the music, much preferring his way to many of the others she'd observed. They danced comfortably, in step with one another and that, really, was the point

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

Even if Hermoine would have attempted to surrender his hand, he would not have let her. His hand, calloused as it was, encased her's, holding it strongly between his fingers. No protest came from his lips as she led the both of them from the ball. There was something comforting in the thought of privacy. The dancing was just as well, but here, on the lake, he would have her all to himself.

His resolution to keep hold of her hand waivered for a brief moment. And in that moment he let it go. The release of her hand was followed by the shrugging off of his suit jacket. "Of course not, ma petite chère." He said softly, covering her bare shoulders with the soft silky inside of his jacket.

"I am confused about the nature of this... holiday." Conall continued, reclaiming her hand. "Voldemort was defeated twenty years ago, n'est-ce pas? I was just a school boy then. Why is it celebrated so now?"