Nightingale[1]spent the entire morning preparing for this event, his office cleared of most of the clutter, and all of the furniture moved along the walls. Seats lined each side of the clearing to prepare for the lessons, and he had set the music player up by the oversized windows that housed his various plants. Hobbies, he called them, but the many roses and herbal roots were all part of the man’s coping with loss. Every time he got his hands dirty in the rich soil he thought of the cleansing way the earth made him think of his own roots, and every time a new sprout pushed forward the life there reminded him there was more than just death.

The room was colorful, massive, ancient, and full of a strange eclectic style; it suited him well. And with his living quarters just up the stairs he did well to keep the Charms alive. No one would be able to make the climb up, and the space seemed much bigger than it normally would on a regular study day. Gale did his best to keep the whole ordeal small, but he was excited. And despite how his heart raced inside his chest, he kept a very stern serious face.

“Welcome. Come in. Take a seat.”

Despite how the room seemed to breathe life, Gale had opted for a much darker palette. His clothes the topic of many conversations had gotten him in trouble far too many times, and today he chose carefully something that would mask all of his creative differences. His wrists and neck were still adorned with silver, but his ears were naked, leaving his dark leather patch the only thing to cross across his face.

He stood in the middle of the room like his father over his kingdom of drunk fools. His back was straight, his shoulders in a perfect line across his spine, and the broad nature of his chest exposed as if he held his breath. It was times like this he recalled the way his father always seemed more than just an old gypsy king, and wondered if he hadn’t been some sort of Count or Lord in a previous life.

“Help yourself.” As always he had out little refreshments for his students, having always baked when he was upset or nervous. And having reason to even be in the same room as Professor Reid again? Nightingale, had an entire pastry shop on a table along the wall.

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OOC: Please post at will.

1.	I totally own this image, just too lazy to pull it down and upload it again.

Aileen made the trip up from the second floor, her steps slow and heavy as a dirge that only she could hear followed in her wake. Her mood contrasted starkly with her appearance - light, airy, feminine. She'd chosen a dress that she could move in, hitting just below the knee so the students could see her feet, along with flat shoes that downplayed her height (for the students' benefit, certainly not Kesali's).

When she strode into his office, her gaze landed on the phantom of the ballroom first. He stood solemn and straight, overseeing his subjects amidst the array of plant life and pastries. Sunlight streamed through the windows and made patterns on the floor.

Aileen tossed the students a polite smile as she moved to stand near the professor. In an effort to communicate with him as little as possible, she'd let him choose the room, though she would have much preferred meeting in the Great Hall or in an empty classroom on neutral territory. She raised an eyebrow at one Gryffindor collecting a feast on his napkin, crumbs falling on his shirt and sticking to his lip. Did Kesali want the students to vomit on her dress? Was that his evil plan?

Though the students were the least of her worries. A week had passed since their disastrous meeting, and time had only solidified her anger into an icy glass fragment where her heart was supposed to beat. Aileen regretted putting up with his behavior, and if he was not the epitome of a gentleman today, someone was going to hear about it.

"I thought I'd stepped into the wrong office for a moment," she commented dryly, barely glancing at the man. "Is this a banquet or a ballroom?"

Of course, she would not make it easy for him.

Eirene sat with her hands clasped on her knees as she beamed at the Charms professor, her feet bouncing every time she forgot to hold still. She'd switched seats to be right in his line of view. Whenever any students came near her with crumbs, she curled her lip, leaning away in her seat.

When the Runes professor arrived, Eirene sat up even straighter and smiled more widely. She couldn't wait to take Runes! Hopping up, Eirene casted a glare at anyone who so much as breathed near her chair, then stepped up to the professor who stood a few feet away from Professor Kesali.

"Hello Professor Reid!" Eirene smiled up at the tall woman, whose eyebrows shot up. "I'm Eirene Antonopoulos! Second-year. Ravenclaw."

Recognition flickered on the professor's features as she opened her mouth, but Eirene went on.

"I took ballet for a whole year when I was five, and I've danced in a recital! The others don't have as much experience as I do, so they might be a bit clumsy," she declared loudly, though she had no idea whether the students had dance experience or not.

Eirene conveniently left out the fact that when she was five, she'd had to dance with the three-year olds, because whenever the children her age did better than she did, she'd burst into tears or throw a tantrum. Today was going to be different! Today she'd be the best!

"Of course," Eirene continued loftily, "I will help the beginners as best as I am able. We're starting soon, aren't we?"

She glanced at Professor Kesali, having gotten used to his eye patch, though she still thought it a shame that such a nice professor resembled Tynan.

Mairead had woken up in a nightmare.  There was no other explanation for this.  And, for once, free food wasn't going to make things better. 

The Gryffindor didn't understand what they were doing there or why or, more importantly, how long she needed to stick around until she could stage a quick escape.  This was not what she wanted to be doing on a Sunday afternoon and the dark, loathing scowl she cast both of the professors made no attempt to conceal that fact.  Not when there were brooms to fly and frogs to catch. 

The last thing she wanted to be doing was prance around like some air-headed, rich ... whatever ... in some fancy dress.  Even if she could have afforded one.  Which, of course, she couldn't.  Other than her school uniform, her grey dress from last year, which her mother had let out twice over the summer, was the best she could do. 

And the first blubbering idiot Ravenclaw that said a thing about it would be leaving the lesson with a broken nose or black eye. 

Mairead always felt a little out of place amongst her classmates but, as Deaglan always reminded her, that was always a source of pride and identity.  She knew who she was in the landscape of Hogwarts and scruffy little hot-headed Quidditch player worked.  But this ... the crimson drapes, the palace-like decor, Rene's gloves and the promise of the even more extravagant Ball to come made her feel more self-conscious and ... poor ... than she ever remembered feeling. 

Their new Charms Professor directed them to take a seat and, unceremoniously, Mairead flopped herself down on the floor between two chairs.  For once, she was perfectly content to be as invisible as possible and the chairs on either side of her would help shield her.

Tynan shared Mairead's general attitude this morning. Any vague interest he might have had in dance lessons had evaporated when he saw the room's decorations. This was going to be posh dancing, wasn't it? Half the girls were dressed up, but he hadn't given his attire a second thought - he turned up in a loose and overly large white shirt, black pants, and his muddy but practical leather boots. And that was it, aside from the leather belt 'round his waist.

Tynan quite liked dancing, usually. But dancing for him was...wild, fun, something a tad carefree. Not this carefully coordinated posh cotswallop. He'd decided to avoid the Ball if possible, and being taught how to dance for it wasn't about to change his mind. It wasn't what he was or wanted to be - the Ball was from a separate world, and not one in which he felt welcome.

He sat next to Mairead heavily, flopping down in the chair with a grunt of greeting. He'd been sizing the new professor up for some time and - to the surprise of no one - had decided he didn't like him. The man - or was it a woman? Tynan, with his narrow definitions of gender, couldn't tell - was just such a strange person, in all the definitions of the term. The man didn't even wear his scar visible! Tynan might find his scar shameful but he made no effort to hide it. It was part of who he was, now, and some prissy little patch wasn't going to change that. The fact his classmates compared the two was quite irksome.

Grumbling under his breath, he glanced at Mairead. "Bunch of bollocks, this," he said. "Why're the girls all buskie?"

Dione was not entirely surprised to find herself the first of the first-years to arrive. She'd been looking forward to this event, after all. It seemed like far too long since she'd been given the opportunity to don her dancing shoes. Back home, she'd had lessons once a week with a young goblin tutor who was the epitome of a gentleman. They'd always been her favorite lessons, even more than her basic magic. And the Ball, so soon to come...it would be wonderful.

She appeared wearing her best Slytherin jumper over a plain white dress, holding back at the door to take stock of the scene before entering. She two scruffy-looking Gryffindors (one with a horrid scar, really, didn't he think of how he might offend the rest of them?), a simpering Ravenclaw (honestly, if you were going to suck up, don't be so obvious about it!) and their teachers, who seemed to be pointedly avoiding each other save for sharp barbs on the side of the lovely Runes Professor.

Interesting. For a moment, Dione contemplated introducing herself to the beautiful woman, but decided that she didn't want to get caught up in the Ravenclaw's backlash. Instead, she crossed to Kesali's side of the room, offered the Professor a slight curtsy in greeting, and choose a seat as far away from the two Gryffindors (one of whom was sitting on the floor!) as possible to wait for her fellow first-years.

Keegan trailed behind Tynan and Mairead, his face twisted into the same look of disbelieving horror. Dancing lessons? This is what they were teaching at Hogwarts now? And look at this room! Velvet curtains... gilded woodwork... a frikkin chandelier, for Merlin's sake! Keegan was sure that there couldn't be a more extravegant room in existance. He blamed this fact on the new Charms professor, who, while being a nice enough guy and a decent professor, was a bit too confusing for the young Gryffindor. The long hair, flowing robes and delicate canter was far too feminine for Keegan's liking. He grew up in a rough, often quite misogynistic, environment and, as shameful as it was to admit it, had a hard time viewing Kesali as an authority figure for it. His mother had seemed more manly.

But he wasn't here because the professor told him to. He was here because 1. free food and B. Dahlia. The former was likely the reason the other two were here and the latter was why Keegan felt awkward in sitting next to them. Ever since his first kiss in the summer, Keegan had been noticing girls a bit more than usual. They didn't seem so gross and cootie-ridden now, especially Dahlia. This sudden revelation meant that he found himself spending a lot more time in her presence... as in most of his time. While he still saw Mai and Ty in class, at practice and in the dorms, he felt there had been a rift growing between them. He knew that Mai wasn't a huge fan of the girly Dahlia and that Ty probably thought Keegans attempts to raise his grades was laughable, and he struggled with wanting to return to the olden days of pranks and T scores, and wanting to remain in his little 'study group' with Dahlia. He was sure that if they knew the glory of kissing, they would understand. Until then, he would need to endure the awkwardness.

Flopping onto the chair on the other side of Mai, Keegan munched on a cupcake he had snagged from the refreshment table as Tynan loudly commented on the girls attire. "No shite, mate..." Keegan said after swallowing most of the lump of cake, and some of the awkwardness, "... Look at Spitz suckin' up to Reid..." He switched to a nasally falsetto, spewing crumbs as he attempted to mock the Ravenclaws posh accent "I used to be a ballerina... that's why I walk like I have a stick shoved up me arse..." Grinning, he settled back and ate the rest of his cupcake.

His eyes wandered over to Tynan, his feet in particular, and noted the large, dusty boots the other boy had decided to wear. His grin became a smirk, and he leaned towards them and said in a lower tone "Oi, mate... Ye should offer to dance with Spitz... n'then stomp all over her feet on purpose. She looks like one speck o'dust on her little outfit would send her into a fit..." He would have done the deed but Dahlia was surely going to be there and the idea of her dancing with someone else while he was with Spitz really irritated him for some reason.

Dancing was not one of Lexi's priorities, sure it could be fun when you were just blasting loud music and dancing in the kitchen with you dad who thought he was a superstar, but other than that, just no. But she wasn't going to let her fellow first-years suffer without her, and who knew, maybe some good and proper blackmail could come out of this. And even if they didn't get that, maybe it would be a good time for the students to actually learn some etiquette.

Who was she kidding? This was going to be awful. And with that mindset, Lexi walked into the room, immediately spotting Dione sitting away from all of the second years. She ran over to her, sitting in one of the chairs near her, but not next to her. She still had uneasy feelings about the Slytherin.

"I guess this will be a lot of fun." Lexi said softly, glad that she had her jacket, because it was kind of cold. For now, she let it drape over the back of her chair. The only thing that could mildly help her situation would be a hair tie. Lexi hadn't tied her hair up beforehand so it fell down in somewhat frizzy, messy waves. She couldn't help it, she'd taken a nap beforehand and woken up like that.

"At least I remembered to dress up--"

In slightly unfamiliar circumstances Obderedria was very quick to find something relatable and comfortable as she could. Thus she had two lemon danishes on a napkin that matched her yellow dress, made of material Obderedria would be able to describe as 'billow-y' even if it reminded her of plastic tablecloth even though her mother said it wasn't. Luckily it reached down to her knees but the sleeves were kind of long, she folded and would later fold again at turning up the sleeves at the wrist so they didn't droop over everything.

Although the one thing she didn't have was proper shoes. Her school uniform shoes may have worked but those were currently recovering from an episode in a toilet after Events That Were Not Going To Be Mentioned Again. What was worse, the thoughts that made Obderedria's eyes sting as she bit into half a danish, was that she wouldn't be able to remain properly mad at Heliotrope because she knew her fishly genetic roommate of a year and a half wouldn't understand what had been so offensive.

So Obderedria looked glumly down at her next nicest shoes; rarely worn pink trainers. Hopefully you could dance in these.

Excluding her doubts at wearing the wrong kind of shoes, if there was anything to be said for one sided animosity it was keeping Obderedria minimally self conscious at a time when her mind might be worrying about how her dress looked, whether she would be able to go to the Yule Ball or not, what would it mean to learn how to dance, would that mean dancing with a boy, who then, would she completely embarrass herself trying to learn how to dance--

None of those questions were bothering her as her perspective of the world was only focused on lemon flavored custard and watching people come in to find seats, while not really thinking about who was who.

((Before I forget, triple descriptive polvore set activate!))

Philo was fiddling with his collar. Dress robes that had technically belonged to his brother at some point although the original, as seen in old photographs, had originally been some kind of sleek blue color. By the time these hand me downs had reached Philo the cloth was thickened, roughed, and starched to a scratchy itchiness. And the tie, colored like armadillo bile, probably had been dipped in armadillo bile at some point.

So for all those who were uncomfortable with whatever they were wearing, Philo was amongst that number.

What made the itchiness worse, or it would once the sweat dried, was the moisture trickling down his back from nerves. Philo wasn't worried, per se, about having to learn to dance with a girl. He was more nervous if he would be able to dance with a particular girl and if they would both like it...

When finding a seat Philo wasn't able to sit right next to Drea and ended up closer to the gathering Gryffindors. He couldn't help but overhear, they weren't being quiet in their disinterest. Philo would agree with most of their complaints, had he been a more vocal sort. But something Tynan said caught him off guard.

The one eyed Gryffindor hadn't meant...did he? Philo glanced to Obderedria, that might have been just the thing to make her feel uncomfortable, but she appeared to be zoned out. Still, Philo suddenly felt prompted to speak.

In a half whisper he said, "Shut up Tynan. If you're going to rude."

Gale wouldn’t let his anger show. No, he was much better at this than he often let on. However, just hearing her voice made his teeth clench. Aileen had this way of commanding every room she walked in, and even now every pretty miss in this room envied her—admired her—wanted to be just like her when they grew up. Damn her, she was beautiful, he could not deny that, but how badly he wanted to make it known that beauty wasn’t everything. It would fade, and so too would his fake smile; but for now he spoke through it.

“Professor Reid, forgive me.” He didn’t look at her when he spoke, “I didn’t realize I was the only other person half blind in the room. But it does appear to happen to be both. Imagine that.” The students couldn’t hear his words, as he kept them quiet behind his clenched (still smiling) mouth. “But you still look lovely as ever. Great dress. It looks very nice on you.” With that he stepped form her, and circled around the students eyeing each one of them.

“Good Evening, I hope that you all know what we are here for, and by now have gathered how important this is to not only the school, but to each of your houses. We dance at the ball not only to represent Hogwarts, but to leave a lasting impression on the surrounding schools as well. Most of you I have had in class, but for those of you I haven’t, my name is Nightingale Kesali and I’m the Professor of Charms. For those of you I don’t know I look forward to meeting you, and having you in class.” If only he could hear their thoughts and opinions of him. How quickly he would be to correct their judgmental first glances, and remind them that one does not judge a book by it’s cover. Gale carried enough weapons on his person currently that could have put an end to the debate of his feminine nature by splitting tongues in two. However, he remained poised and commanding before them.

“Please allow me to introduce you to my highly esteemed colleague, and Professor of Runes—Aileen Reid. She is well respected and heavily regarded for her proper demeanor so I suggest you take notes.” Oh how it killed him to even say that. However, he was distracted by Eirene’s anxious face, and smiled to her.

“Of course we will be starting soon. Why don’t you come up here and be my partner while Professor Reid walks us through the first few steps.” Like a true gentleman he folded one hand behind the small of his back while extending the other palm up to her.

---

OOC: Don't wait for turns, but try not to get too far ahead of Elle or I.

Aileen glanced at the Charms professor sharply, wishing she could hex the teeth out of his smiling mouth and render him unable to make inane comments. She held that thought in her mind when he conveniently walked away from her and introduced the lesson, proving that he was indeed capable of acting like a well-adjusted human being. To the students, at least.

Adopting a vaguely pleasant expression, Aileen glanced around at the students as Kesali spoke. A group of Gryffindors sat together, looking like they'd be more at home on the Quidditch pitch or in detention. Philo Falkin sat near them, scratching at the collar of his old dress robes. The young Slytherin that had curtsied to Kesali (more courtesy than he deserved) had managed to snag a seat away from the Gryffindors, only to be joined by a redhead in jeans. Students on the floor. A girl in muggle clothes. Did Kesali typically allow this?

She might have said something, but he asked the overeager Eirene Antonopoulos to demonstrate with him. The girl's face lit up, she threw a smug glance at the others, and then glanced back at Aileen.

"It would be my pleasure," the Runes professor lied.

Smoothing her dress, the second-year stood straight and proud, her expression warring between ladylike calm and childlike enthusiasm.

"Before you learn how to dance, you need to learn how to stand," Aileen told the class, her voice taking on the tone she used for Runes lectures. She ignored any snickers or disinterested looks - like it or not, if she had to teach this, they had to learn it.

"Pay careful attention to this demonstration, because you'll be up out of your seats very soon. Look at Miss Antonopoulos' posture," Aileen gestured. "Her chin is up, her shoulders are back, her feet are parallel."

Aileen demonstrated this stance herself as she talked, giving the Ravenclaw girl a moment to beam.

"If you'll notice Professor Kesali's position, he holds his left hand in the air. Miss Antonopoulos, take his hand palm up, if you please. Like that," she nodded as the girl followed her direction.

"Your left hand, Miss Antonopoulos, will go on his right shoulder, on the seams of his sleeve, while Professor Kesali's other hand will rest on your shoulder blade."

Because of the height difference, the girl's left hand started to slip down his arm, and Aileen barely opened her mouth when the student corrected it herself.

"Now, move to the right of him slightly, so that your feet don't knock into each other."

Aileen addressed the class again, "Maintaining the proper posture, the correct stance, will make you look graceful and confident, even if you are not the best dancer," her gaze rested for a moment on one girl in a yellow dress who had been staring down at her shoes earlier.

"And the simplest step, the one that most ballroom dancing is based on, is the box step. In a waltz - which you'll be learning - you move to the beat of 1-2-3."

She smiled slightly, "It is called a box step for a reason. Professor Kesali will step forward with his left foot, while Miss Antonopoulos will step back, creating a box with their feet."

As the two showed the class, Aileen offered suggestions as needed. The Ravenclaw kept glancing at the professors for approval and forgetting to concentrate on what she was doing, but overall, the demonstration began smoothly.[1]

1.	For visual reference, check out this video!

Arms folded tightly over her chest, Mairead glowered darkly at every first and second year that crossed her path.  She did not want any first years getting the idea that now was a good time to attempt to small talk with her.  By now, most of her fellow second years were initiated enough to her moods to know better.  But, scowling at them felt good anyway. 

At least, Tynan was grumbling with her in solidarity.  "Why do ye think I'd know?" Mairead grumbled back.  Hopefully, his had been a rhetorical question and not an actual request for information.  She was as much in the dark as to why they all felt compelled to get dolled up as he was.  She glanced up as Keegan joined them, offering a curt, sour nod in greeting. 

When Keegan suggested Tynan partner with Rene, Mairead cast a quick warning glance between the two boys before glowering, pointedly, at Tynan.  It mattered little how delightful seeing Tynan tread on Rene's toes might be.  If he partnered with Rene, there was no telling who Mairead might get stuck with. 

That was simply unacceptable.  "Try it," Mairead grumbled, looking back forward just in time to hear Falkin's comment.  She bolted upright and started scrambling to her feet, determined to go address Falkin's concerns in person when their Charms Professor spoke up and Mairead sunk back into floor. 

Proper demeanor.  Notes.  Rene showing off.  Learning how to stand and posture.  Could this get any worse?  "Bloody 'ell." Mairead muttered, leaning her head back against the wall. 

Gale was a very attentive dancing partner, completely aware of every movement she made. When and if she made a false move he was quick to correct it with one of his own, cover up the mistake, and more importantly remind her to smile.

"Relax, Ma petite, it is only dancing." A lot more structured than he preferred, but still an art form none the less. "Very good." He complimented her often, and laughed lightly when they got the hang of it.

"A natural. Come. Stand by me." He stopped the dance long enough to look at Aileen, his face already a little flush just from those little steps, but turned his attention to the students.


"Ok, on your feet. I want Miss Fearghail, with Mister MacFusty. Miss Sayer with Mister Falkin, and Miss Pienas with Mister Kearney. Ladies on one side, Gentleman on the other. Let us practice the basic step. Come now...up." Oh, it was the little things in life that made him fight a grin...he would enjoy this way too much, and felt like it was yesterday he was in this particular place.

"Professor Reid, will be around to correct you and count out the steps. Until then, follow my lead." He made sure that his partner was where she should be, and extended his hand in an offer again. His back was straight, his shoulders were aligned with his feet, and his chin dipped only long enough to escort her to the floor--as he would expect all of the young men to do, and eyed them as they did.