The evening now in full swing, Ambrose turned his attention the dire situation he realised himself to be in. He'd not made an effort to ask a girl out for the evening to the dance, so he was drifting from one group to the next dressed as a house elf.

He had managed to cobble together a costume out of a magically enlarged pillow case off his bed (he'd burnt two in the process) with a piece of twine from the greenhouses round the middle as a belt. Winnie had loaned him an alice band which he'd spellotaped a couple of fake oversized ears made of thick parchment to his head, and he'd knotted a stripy tea-towel in each corner for his head as he had been unable to source a tea cozy that fitted over without risking an enlargement problem again.

Across the hall he spied Emilija Cihala, the pretty Durmstrang girl who had joined his classes for the year. She was very pretty, and Ambrose had been having difficulty not staring at her all term, his teenage hormones now very much awake and drawing his attention to the fact there were girls in this school and they were good to look at.

He stopped in his tracks. Emi was dressed as a white rabbit and looked absolutely beautiful. His feet gained a mind of their own and he found himself advancing round the room to her at a rate of knots.

"Come on now Ambrose, you can do this, come on." He told himself as he walked, suddenly wishing that he'd gone to the bother of finding a proper costume that didn't involve parchment ears.

Two false starts across the floor later, Ambrose found his way to stand before the pretty Durmstrang girl, and with blushing cheeks, extended a hand to her,
"Erm... would you like ... erm. Would you like to dance?" His words fell out a little quicker than the suave phrasing he'd imagined in his head previously. He stood, like a rabbit caught in headlights, awaiting her answer. 

Emilija had come to the Hogwarts Halloween dance with her comrades from Durmstrang- those younger Zufreiden boys and girls who had travelled to cheer on their champions for the tournament. Some of them had teased her for having chosen a guise similar to that of the pale professor but she did not mind, reassured by the admirable stares of passing attendees.

Stares were not an infrequent symptom in her lifestyle as a songstress; it did not bother one whose profession played out on-stage. Emi daintily carried a cup and saucer with both hands, a part of her costume, while she stood with a crowd of classmates. They were discussing the unusual music.

"Da, da. It is not so inoff--" an older Zufreiden was speaking when, to all their surprise, a voice interrupted. And it was directed at her.

Several sets of eyes snapped to the fourth year English boy who was holding out a hand. His cheeks were red and his costume... it was different, but Emi recognized the face between tea clothes. From the red house, Ambrose, niet? How interesting that he would ask. Before she could so much as part her lips, the group of them burst out laughing.

Disrespectful! Emilija pushed her lips into a pout, turning around to shoot them a glare. They stopped instantly. Rude. To criticise, da, was accepted. This was not a good reflection of their institute. With another glare, the little witch offered her cup to one of the other girls before looking back at Ambrose.

"Yes," she took his hand with a civil nod and smile brilliantly. "It is very kind of you to ask." Emi didn't hesitate once as she took his arm and helped lead them out on to the dance floor. "I am sorry for my kinsmen," she said as soon as they were out of earshot from the others.  "They do not know how to behave." It was said swiftly, as-a-matter-of-fact.

They laughed, oh Merlin they were laughing at him.

But then he realised Emi was not, and looked flattered, she even took his hand. Ambrose almost reached to pinch his own cheek with his other hand, and instead shot a triumphant look over his shoulder to Emi's Durmstrang companions as if to say 'ha, who's laughing now!'

"I am sorry for my kinsmen," she said as soon as they were out of earshot from the others.  "They do not know how to behave."

"Oh, its ok. I've had worse." Ambrose replied, and then realised his manners, "It doesn't matter. I'm flattered that you accepted though." He gave her a broad smile, and turned to face her on the dance floor, holding her delicate hand in his, remembering how his father had taught him just before the end of summer. He'd previously thought it really stupid, but with the prospect of formal dances that year, Francis had insisted on showing him at least a few steps to help.

"Are you enjoying your Hogwarts Halloween?" Ambrose asked, his mind willing him not to muck up, not to fall over his feet and onto Emi.

The Hogwarts boy, he was at least honest. A trait that maybe made amends for his strange costume. That smile was also not displeasing. Emi returned it with a grin, which now carried some of her more impish charm.

"Da," she replied- and considered her answer seriously as they moved across the dance floor, neither graceful nor awkward. The movements came with the natural aptitude drilled into the bones of those within her institute and Ambrose did not make it difficult. "It is not the same in my home, in Latvia."

This Halloween was not so fashionable in Riga but their magical community knew the traditions well.

"We do not, as you say, play pretend..." Emi stared directly at her partner, nose crinkled in a thoughtful way. Her mind struggled for a Latvian alternative to trick-or-treat but failed. "We decorate," she shrugged, "And eat good food. Only children dress up."

The Hogwarts Halloween was stimulating and very different to her, though she thought it appeared commonplace to Ambrose. Emi considered the notion curiously.

"Is this a very... British celebration?" she asked. "You are lucky. It is grand."

"Hmm," Ambrose pondered for a moment, his gaze shifting from the pretty girl he danced with to think back. "The dressing up part is a more recent invention, for sure. The Muggles enjoy it here, but its come from the American Muggles - I'm not sure if the Salem students do this ordinarily."

He glanced about them to see if the American visitors had donned particularly inventive costumes or looked at home as a kind of confirmation.

"I suppose its a way of enjoying festivities without making them too similar to the Yule Ball in a few months." Ambrose offered in suggestion "Dress robes then, instead of costumes or school uniforms."

The Gryffindor politely extended his arm for Emi to turn on the spot, and then carefully collected her back, almost daring not to breathe in fear it would cause him to stumble or fall over onto her or anything. Strangely, as soon as her stared back into her beautiful face the fear ebbed away.

"What is your favourite celebration, from home?" He asked politely, "Would things be vastly different if Hogwarts had come to Durmstrang?" He asked curiously.