Early December brought with it a particular combination of excitement and dread. There was the prospect of being able to go home, to bury herself amid headshots and mutilate spreadsheets and listening to witty commentators on the internet, preferably at high volume.

First, though, one had to survive midterms. And while the fire-spewing crabs were going to be easy to finish the project for, the rest of her midterms were not going to be quite as pleasant. And then there was the Yule Ball, which even Gigi couldn't ignore. At least Tappy had agreed to the dress.

And to something else that shifted the balance of the season much further into excitement. Erin could come over during the holiday. Which meant that she finally got to show her mate the important things in life, like 'In the mountains' jokes, flame wars, and the various discu-debates over if Reach would be any good.

Oh, and reading Lovecraft in the dark hours of the night. So much to show him.

Once she actually told him about it. Which meant he'd have to show. She'd just finished scribbling down a drawing of an Illithid in her journal. Maybe she'd branch out this year and play a psionic class. With tentacles coming out of their face. Then, she heard, or thought she heard, some faint noise, and snapped the journal shut. No wish to explain her drawings of such creatures to the entire house, thank you very much.

Thanks to the Doppler effect, Gigi had plenty of prior warning before the faint noise resolved itself into Erin's heavy boy clomp on the stairs. Down he came like a sack of lanky bricks, hitting heavy every step, and crossing under the windows he went in and out of color in the murky green lake light. The Slytherin common room - such a cheery place. After a while one just got used to the perpetually sickly complexions and the overabundance of snakes.

He vaulted the couch Gigi was sitting on, muddy boots passing perilously close to her face, and landed with a bounce and a tiny protest of stiff springs. "Oi," he said carelessly. "So are you stealing someone's dress or not? Hurry up about it, I've got a bet on the length of your gown."

"Showoff," Gigi said, with no real force behind it. Hadn't been scribbling when he bounced in, after all. "And already got a dress. Tappy-immune and everything. Not like there's anyone I'd want to steal from who'd have something shiny." She bounced a little on the couch, which responded with a thoroughly unsatisfying lack of movement. "Course, gave him the choice of it or some that would have had more coverage to the top if I'd just glued a couple of Galleons on."

She swung her feet up and over the armrest on the side, shoes hanging loosely on her feet. "It's long, long enough so no one can see my toes to step on them." 'less she kicked it up, and with those shoes she'd be doing a bit of that. "Got some skulls and things to go with. Why, how much did ya bet?"

Though, well, she couldn't hold in that excitement any longer. "Oh, and apparently a certain Professor McDweeberson thinks you're respectable enough to come over during break. Means I can show you about the internet." Internet, video games, and snark. What else were friends for?

"Show-off."

He smirked and slowly propped his boots up on the table in front of them, one over the other. A little mud flaked off. He regarded it with satisfaction. "That worked?" he asked. "Well, good on you." He considered this, the idea of a dress with less coverage than a couple of galleons. Normally the kind of image that might've made it into any number of male mags, it became less appealing when one replaced the anonymous model's face with Gigi's. He grimaced playfully. "I'm gonna have to cover my eyes, aren't I."

Skulls and things, he mouthed wordlessly, smiling. "Don't you worry about that. I'll see if I can change it something up top."

Though already pleasant and relaxed enough, Erin sat upright when Gigi broke the news. "Really?" he asked, alert and considerably interested. He'd heard enough about the enternet and Gigi's games over the years to be excited by this prospect, even if it did mean he'd be spending break at a professor's house. At least he wouldn't be at home. "All right then! When're we leaving? Maybe we could skip the ball and go straight to the part where you show me how to teabag zombies?"

How she was laying meant Gigi couldn't elbow Erin well, so she tried to thunk him in the side with the back of her head instead. "Yeah, 'less you want to be blinded by awesome." Yule Ball almost made her want to make a few 'adjustments' to her figure. But someone would probably be paying enough attention for that to come up.

She swung her feet back over to the table so that she could look at him without getting dizzy. "Whoa, slow down. Didn't go through getting the dress to skip out." The dress was dark and depressing and she liked it. "Plus Starboy's probably wishing for takebacks already. We'll get to teabagging first thing on break."

Then her face split into a wide grin that anyone more familiar with the internet might have realized closely resembled a trollface. "Maybe you'll get a shot at it on Tapendra's character. And I've got this list for you for D&D. But you might have to name your character Mr. Welch."

This was going to be far too much fun.

"I'm sure that's how it works." He yawned, not much bothered by her hard head knocking his ribs. "You'll definitely cry when you see me in my robes. With laughter."

There was very little about the ball that he was looking forward to. Not like the smug pleasure in Gigi's voice as she talked about her dress.

Still, he couldn't help but match the wide grin that bloomed on her face. "Heh," he said darkly, maliciously gleeful. He slumped back down against the cushions, now greatly looking forward to his break. "Okay," he agreed easily, though he had no idea what she was talking about with her list and Mr. Welch. Erin was laid-back like that. Whatever Gigi wanted him to do, it was sure to be brilliant. After all, though she could usually only be trusted to mock him copiously, he was pretty sure if it was him or some enternet-dwellers she'd totally chose him.

"Could always wear a Speedo. Or transfigure your robes to that." Gigi stuck her tongue out, trying not to laugh too hard at the thought. "Good way to die. You getting dolled up with ribbons and all that? Tournament champion fashion from four hundred years back." This time she tried for the elbow, though the laughter made it hard to get a good shot in. Least Tapendra didn't want her dressing like an utter antique.

She tapped her thumb and forefinger together, thinking. "Know what you'll want to see first? Lolcats, technoviking, putting rule 34 to the test? Turn up the sound real loud for that. Takes Tappy a while to kick down the door." The last was mostly sarcastic. Mostly. Gigi had mastered the art of quick screen switching a while back.

"Bet you we can get him to throw money at us and drop us off at the mall just for a break, huh?" It being Christmas didn't hurt, and seemed like Cy might be having a collection of small noobs over as well.

"Oi, I'm not going to the Ball in just my pants!" Now he was indignant enough to properly wield off her pointy elbow, his face momentarily crumpled into a scornful scowl. "Nah, I mean, my robes are okay. They're just all posh, you know? Darian kept saying shite about the honor of the Harpers being at stake." The scowl had melted into another dark look. Erin wiggled into the sofa, slowly slumping. He brought up a hand to circle an imaginary collar at this throat, making a face, "I won't even be able to breathe."

The look he shot Gigi was now tempered with disbelief, not so light and innocent as confusion. "I don't even know what you're saying." But it was a cheering thought, and he reluctantly began to smile. "That would be brill. I've always wanted to go in a proper mall. I used to walk around Newport a bit but it was all shops like Diagon, only muggle."

Gigi couldn't help snickering a little, well, a lot, at Erin's predicament. "But if you can't breathe then I'll have to tear your robes open and perform mouth-to-mouth after you collapse." She smacked her lips together for emphasis.

"And I'm not saying anything too complicated. Silly cats and lots of shirtless dudes. Moving pictures of 'em, even." Her smirk left a lot less to the imagination than her words did. Ah, the internets were a wonderful thing. More fun than malls, usually.

Course, she'd been to malls. "Will make sure we get to one, then. Tappy'll probably be glad to have a few less people crammed in for a bit." That'd be fun to figure out. Made Gigi glad that wasn't her job. "I'll lend you some money, even. Less you've been hoarding the Muggle stuff." She tried the elbow again, but halfheartedly.

Erin sneered at her, a disgusted curl of his lips. "You're too excited about that," he complained. "Sides, I've got a date. She's supposed to do that." Actually, he doubted she'd bother. Whitman was fit and all, but neither of them pretended to do more than find this a mutually beneficial arrangement. The girl was so proper she probably didn't even know how to snog, or certainly wouldn't deign to snog HIM even if he was dying.

"Moving pictu -" Huh. Erin absorbed this, his gaze unfocusing. "Don't see why anyone would want to see pictures of cats," he concluded, though he didn't mention the shirtless men.

"Aw, lookit you then," he said, grinning at her carefully casual offer to lend him muggle money. The elbow she tried to apply to his side got grabbed and yanked so that Gigi would nearly have to fall into him, just in range for him to snake an arm around her neck and squeeze in a cheerfully annoying way. "All hard on the outside and squishy on the in. Like a peppermint humbug. Proper sweet." 

"Me, excited 'bout something that irks you? Never." She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out. "Have fun with the date, though. Bet you can't convince her that Tournament champs have the biggest wands." Be hilarious to see, at least. Her free hand waved out expansively as if to demonstrate. "And one does not simply explain the internets. You must see them for yourself."

Which seemed to be pretty arranged. Gigi let herself fall into Erin's grip, though she tried to slam her head against his side as she did so. "Forgot spiky on the outside, too." Kind of had to be, with their house. The sarcasm was just her own special addition. "And we're all squishy on the inside. All the guts."  Kind of made her wonder if she could make her skin translucent to demonstrate.  Harper was a good mate, maybe she'd tell him sometime.

Not here. "And don't go blabbing anything bout me being sweet. Have to bust balls for a week to fix that." Less she wanted pics of her ass pasted everywhere again. Or whatever humiliating stunt someone got up to.