8:49 P.M.
basement




It was eight in the evening, almost nine, and he, Micah Gallagher, was sitting in Gracie Slant’s basement, on her couch, sandwiching Theo Whitman between himself and his best friend. Playing Mario Kart. Not once in his life had the Hufflepuff ever thought his life would come to this.

But as he expertly knocked Luigi off the road, he couldn’t help admitting that, yeah, he was having fun.

In the carefully dim lighting of the room, the glare of the flatscreen was even harsher, almost blinding, but between the faint whiff of gillyweed sneaking in from outside, the laid-back air currently permeating the room and thick walls keeping the music of upstairs at bay, the basement had a more relaxed feel to it, a kind of ‘lounge-y’ vibe that would just about make anyone loosen up; with the amount of people currently clustered together, just talking and laughing and drinking, it was as though everyone had decided this would be the place to unwind. There had been waves, yeah, surprised grins and invitations to join, but for the most part everyone seemed content to just do their own thing. Micah and Ji-Hyun – already made hopeful by the promise of Mario Kart – couldn’t help but relax upon entering. Even Theo seemed affected, opting to ignore the more unfriendly looks shot his way in favor of clearing out the couch for their takeover, and when it became clear nothing would start on his part, the room, amazingly, became even more mellow.

Also, there was popcorn. And chips. And Twizzlers, and M&M’s, and even an entire selection of cereal, as if the first two weren’t enough, laid out right there on the coffee table. If it hadn’t been for the rager going on upstairs, one could have easily mistaken it for a gaming party instead. Micah happily shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. He was in bliss.

“Blast,” Theo muttered from his left, as a well-timed Red Shell sent Princess Peach crashing and burning. Zel, on Ji-Hyun’s other side, whooped; Micah grinned. “Can I not–?”

“You can,” Micah heard Ji-Hyun reply distractedly, because Mario Kart. On the screen, Dry Bones swerved into second place, deftly avoiding a banana peel. “But it’s—hm.” She left a slew of peels in her wake, prompting a muffled sound of protest from the Slytherin sitting between them.

“It’s difficult,” Zel finished from her other side, still looking immensely pleased with himself.

And then one by one, they crossed the finished line—Dry Bones first, Yoshi second, and Birdo nearly tied with Princess Peach for dead last. As Ji-Hyun and Micah leaned over him to high five (and then Micah behind him for a more discreet fistbump with Zel), Theo stared mulishly at the screen. He appeared to be coming to a decision. “Rematch,” he commanded, clicking through the menu.

Micah laughed, shaking his head. As he pushed off from the couch, he clapped Theo on the shoulder—drawing his hand away at the other boy’s unimpressed look, but without the recoil there would have been half an hour earlier. “You guys have fun,” he said, grinning faintly. His cheeks were just ever so slightly pink beneath the paint. “I think I’m gonna...” Jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the bar behind him, he held up a plastic cup sheepishly. He didn’t really drink much (if ever), but tonight he had a nice buzz going that kept the crushing insecurities away.

The revelry upstairs had hardly started and already the articles of clothing were flying off of the party-goers at an alarming rate (no doubt aided by the - wait was that pixie dust?! That's so not legal! - being passed around by some of her classmates), and so Verity found herself heading down to the basement in hopes that she might find a more laid-back atmosphere. She knew that some referred to her as a stuck-up prude, and she had accepted the invite partly in order to try to shed that title and show everyone that she could have fun. But why did fun have to be so... chaotic? And after Eli made those obscene gestures, she just needed to take a bit of a breather.

As she made her way down the steps, she caught the end of a Mario Kart race and smiled when she saw three of her closest friends engrossed in a heated match. She walked over towards the bar and received probably more satisfaction than she should have by Theo's lack of video game skill. Verity didn't want to interrupt them, but smiled as she saw Micah walking towards her (well, towards the bar. She just happened to be standing there). They hadn't really talked much after the disaster of her confessing her feelings to him over the trip, but for some reason she felt better having everything out in the air.

"Wow, I see that you are a man of many talents. Cheese carving master, Mario Kart wunderkind... Is there anything you can't do?" Verity asked before taking a swig of her Long Island iced tea, the effects of the shots she had done with Eli beginning to effect the 17-year-old causing her voice to adopt a certain huskiness that wasn't normally present.

Kelvin took a sip of what was now his second drink.  The first one had been pushed into his hand nearly the instant he had arrived.  The first one had been good, a little bitter but mostly sweet.  The second one was turning out to be even better, and if he'd stopped to think about it, he would have remembered the unfortunate Yule Ball incident with the spiked punch.  But it was a party, and the point as he gathered from Connor was to let go.  Or maybe it had just been to leave the books behind.  He was pretty sure his brother had laughed at that before he offered Kelvin the use of his broom to get to the lodge.

He wandered downstairs taking sips of the drink, he needed a break from the dancing upstairs.  And the unclothed bodies that were leaving him flustered.  His face had felt hot enough to be sunburned, and hadn't cooled much even though the room was cooler and the bodies more clothed as they played some kind of game on the giant television.  He knew it was some kind of video game, but despite his father being a muggle, Kelvin's pastimes had never leaned toward games.  One of the older boys got up from the couch as it looked like a race ended.

Bolder than usual, or at least less inhibited, Kelvin walked over to the couch and sat down, picking up an abandoned controller.  Twisting it around in his hands before deciding on the correct way to hold it, "How do you play?"  He asked the older boy sitting next to him, before he realized who it was he was sitting next to.  Shit. Whitman.

Unsurprisingly, losing was something Theo was not accustomed to.

At Olwyn Plas – the stately, gleaming halls of one of the many Whitman ancestral homes to grace Cardiff with their presence – the library served as a gallery as well, of the accomplishments of their branch, and of them all the majority of them were Theo’s—gleaming, immaculate, incontrovertible proof his abilities. Potions, spellwork, herbology—analysis, mathematics, memorization… Whatever he chose, he excelled at. Winning came easily to him. Winning was something he just did, because he, Theo Whitman, didn’t just have to be the best at everything, he was the best at everything.

Mutinously, he glared at the bright, vast screen, the controller held tightly in his grip. The game’s bouncy music and bright, vivid colors were taunting him.

He was not sulking.

“When Gallagher returns,” he said, staring stonily at the screen. But as a small, delicate-looking hand gave his knee a conciliatory squeeze, he forced himself to relax, lean back against the couch and let the controller dangle from his fingers. It was only a game…

And then another figure took over Micah’s seat, and Theo looked over—brows rising at the youth’s boldness; it was the mousy one of the Ravenclaws to run with Desrosiers and Morrell. Amusingly, the younger wizard’s expression froze upon recognition.

Lucky for him, then, that Ji-Hyun was so close at hand. Tonight, Theo was behaving.

“Well…” the lad began, glancing down at the controller in his hands. They were odd, the controllers—white, palm-sized things that, logically, shouldn’t be capable of even half the functions they were made for. Four, maybe five and half inches long, they were roughly the size of those muggle phones, with little grey buttons and knobs. During the last half hour he’d played, he’d had to learn new terms on top of actually learning to play—as well as ignore the utterly frivolous yet intriguing appearance of the characters at hand.

“The aim is to win the race, possibly by whatever means necessary,” he finally replied—an extrapolation he had immediately gleaned as soon as he’d learned that one could use items against other players. (Whatever do you mean, ‘of course’ he’d pick that up?) “Items may be used to bolster your avatar’s statistics, or deter your rivals. To use them, you press the left button–” Reaching over, Theo pressed it for the Ravenclaw in demonstration. “To… stop, or slow, you press the right button.”

Then, despite himself– before he could catch himself– Theo glanced at Ji-Hyun—for what, exactly, he had a terrible suspicion, and one he had absolutely zero interest in confirming; he did not need anyone’s approval, not even hers. The fact that it had been an unconscious action… It was just one more reminder that here, he was out of his depth.

And her expression– that warm cast of affection, of amusement and approval, beside Trumble’s ill-fitting look of disdain –at that moment, it was too much.

“‘A’ is for acceleration, and this–” He swiped his thumb against the left joystick. “Is for steering. But if you are still uncertain, then you should consult an expert. Or watch.” Briskly he gave Kelvin a pat on the back—nothing too hard, only enough to be companionable and entirely ominous—and an equally friendly smile. “Enjoy.”

“Theo?”

Rising to his feet then, he turned to look at Ji-Hyun, who now watched him something close to concern. Which… that wouldn’t do, now, would it? “I simply need to stretch my legs,” he offered by way of explanation, smiling wryly. (One might even say ruefully.) “I’ll get us something to drink.”

“Butterbeer, please.”

“As you wish.” Bracing a hand against the back of the sofa, Theo leaned in to press a kiss against her forehead… before sliding his gaze towards the pallid werewolf beside her, as if only just noticing the other boy was still there. “And Trumble too, I suppose,” he added, lazily pushing himself upright with an innocent smile.

And then he sauntered away, leisurely making his way to the bar.

There had been enough people in the way, between them and behind that Micah hadn’t immediately seen Verity, but almost as soon as he’d reached the counter the couple between them drifted away, drinks in hand, leaving the girl visible to just a glance to the side.

And, well. He glanced to the side. And froze, and blushed, as a low swooping sensation swooped through his gut because, yeah, he remembered the last time they had hung out proper. Each and every second of it.

But not for the same reasons. Rather, he keenly remembered each and every second of the way blood had rushed to his head, flattered and amazed that anyone might like him that way;—embarrassed that he’d been so oblivious, when everyone had been trying to tell him;—guilty, ashamed, and sorry, because he, he didn’t –couldn’t?– see her that way.

That he maybe, maybe, might’ve been trying not see… anything.

Not that there was anything wrong with Verity, because there wasn’t—she was one of the kindest, smartest, coolest people he knew. Even before they’d really been friends. Ji-Hyun and Zel always had nice things to say about her, and she was always helping someone, in some way or another. Charms, Transfiguration, Potions—Potions. She was probably one of the few people who worked alongside Theo Whitman without being, y’know. Terrifying. ‘Cause she was nice, and patient, and didn’t—never seemed like she was laughing at you, or knew something you didn’t but probably should, or that she could eat you for breakfast. Verity Bell was great.

He just… didn’t like her like that. And it sucked, because now…

He missed her, he realized—suddenly, acutely aware of how much he did. Things had gotten awkward—after, that they hadn’t really talked since. He’d ended up asking Ji-Hyun how she was, rather than the girl herself, and it sucked ‘cause they were –had been?– friends.

She looked good, he saw—and seemed nowhere near as awkward as he was, which made him feel both guilty and relieved all at once. Of course, that might have been more because of the drink in her hand than actually being okay, but… He ducked his head and smiled at her, sheepish but grateful.

“Ji-Hyun won, actually,” he pointed out shyly, as he shuffled towards and slid into the seat next to her. The stool– leather but aged, without the standoffish gleam of things recently bought –hardly squeaked under his weight. “Hi, Verity. You look, uh–” He blushed, ever so slightly. “Good.”

Different could have worked just as well, too. But it would’ve amounted to the same regardless; Verity always looked nice.

Eli burst through the door.

"URGENT. EMERGENCY." He shoved a fifth year into the wall (he squealed), leapt over a table and grabbed a box of merlinos. He looked around wildly, "TRUMBLE!"

"Y-yes?" Zelig gulped.

"Not you! Lady Trumble! The beautiful one~" He flapped his hand at Zel,  "Not that you're not beautiful--" He gave Zel a hug. The werewolf shifted uncomfortably and made no effort to hug Eli back. He avoided eye contact and gave Verity a look that pleaded for help.

Eli released him, making a wounded walrus noise. Then he approached Theo (who was at the bar with Lady Trumble), and gave his roomie a large, full-body, sensuous hug. He was rewarded with a pat on the back. "SEE. Theo here, he knows how to hug. He hugs properly." He opened his box of merlinos and threw a handful in Zel's general direction, snatched a random bottle off the bar, and ran back up the stairs, laughing maniacally.

Verity could tell that Micah was uncomfortable, and tilted her head giving him a reassuring smile. If there was anyone who she wished she could hear their inner monologue, it was Micah. Mostly because she assumed that it was rather self-deprecating and she wanted to tell him how amazing he was. But then she remembered that she had already done that... She chuckled when he admitted that Ji-Hyun had won, and shrugged. "Still, congratulations for beating Theo. I am pretty dreadful at racing games, unfortunately."

As he sat down beside her, Verity finished her second drink, only to have a new one immediately placed in her hand. "Thank you, Emmy."

Before the party, Verity had told Emeline that if she was going to get through the party she was going to need to be thoroughly drunk. "Micah is going to be there, and the last time I saw him I confessed my feelings to him. He didn't reciprocate them. If you ever see me without a drink in my hand, please make sure that I have a new drink in my hand." Being the older sister of her best friend, Emeline was practically Verity's older sister and assured her that she had her back.

When Micah complimented her, Verity donned a goofy (and a tad drunken) grin, and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "You're not sore on the eyes yourself, mister Micah." Verity winked and pointed at the Hufflepuff boy. "But thank you. I feel good," she giggled, taking a long sip of her drink. The girl had surprisingly little experience with alcohol, besides maybe a cup of wine with her parents every once in awhile, and Emmy had a heavy hand.

When Theo stopped by the bar, she panicked slightly and without thinking grabbed Micah's hand and tugged. She didn't count for the fact that she was less than stable, which caused her to fall into his lap but miraculously she didn't spill her drink. And as luck would have it, Theo was distracted by Eli's hug assault - the sight of which caused Verity to erupt into laughter, rocking back and forth on Micah's lap. When she got a reign on her giggling, she spun around to face Micah and looked at him with questioning eyes.

"How are you? I've missed you!" Verity told him with a slight pout. All while Sober Verity looked on the scene in horror.

Red, blue, green… even periwinkle and chartreuse had lost all meaning to the young witch. Paint, though incredibly fun, was also incredibly messy and unpredictable… especially without magic. Elysia had arrived earlier in the night by broomstick. She still wasn’t extremely comfortable with apparating, and nothing compared to flying through the skies with the wind whipping around your frame. It was a high (both literally and figuratively) that Elysia was positive she would never be able to give up.

Gracie’s home was… well… exceptional, but Elysia honestly expected nothing less from such an exceptional witch. The two witches had faced the maze together, and Elysia was honored to consider Gracie a friend. Off the pitch, anyway. After stowing her broom within the designated closet, Elysia joined the party proper. Drinks flowed, music boomed, and Elysia found herself having an amazing time. She was almost certain, for a moment, that her heart would explode from dancing with too many people in too short a time… but she didn’t want to stop.

When she finally decided it was time for a break, the tipsy witch sauntered downstairs, passing a raving Eli as he rushed by like a lunatic. Thankfully she was nowhere near that drunk. At the foot of the stairs, Elysia scanned the crowd for people she actually wanted to be around and spotted the unmistakable features of her favorite lunar-impaired Hufflepuff: Zel.

The Hufflepuff passed quickly by her housemates to grab Emmy’s attention at the bar. Elysia loved Zelig’s sister almost as much as she loved Zel himself. Not that she was in love with him or anything… she just loved him, like you love… well something you love. She offered the bartender a huge grin as she accepted the two shot glasses and made her way over to where the television sat looming, odd looking creatures splayed across the screen.

Unaware that Whitman was on his way to collect drinks for everyone else, including Zel, she placed one of the shots directly in his hand. “Oh, you have a cereal thingy on your shirt,” she said, reaching across his body to grab the offending merlinos from his shoulder. “Nice shirt, by the way, and hey guys,” she said, finally greeting the group before turning her attention back to Zel and raising her shot glass into the air.

Zel had already consumed a couple drinks, especially since Emeline kept encouraging him to 'party like hie meant it.' He had a feeling that everything that she made for him was exceptionally strong, or charmed to give more of an effect, like a good, responsible sister would. He would have stopped there, but Theo had left to get a round for everybody--and although Zel didn't like Theo at all, he wasn't rude enough to turn down a drink.

Besides, he'd never hear the end of it from Em if he committed such a crime.

At the moment, he was mostly feeling confused after Eli's little outburst.  He rather enjoyed Eli, but he also suspected that the Slytherin tried to make him uncomfortable on purpose. He succeeded.

Elysia's appearance was a nice change of pace, and he greeted her with a smile that was more warm than it was shy. "Err, yeah. Eli threw them at me. I apparently do not hug well." He leaned forward to whisper in Elysia's ear, "But he's only in his pants. I don't... I couldn't look at him in the eye, Elysia. And he was so offended. And the way he hugged Theo. There are some things I will never unsee." Many of the things he could never unsee were Eli Amherst's doing.

She complimented his shirt, and his face flushed. Zel was far too proud of his shirt-- it had two of his favorite things, cats and bacon. However, Verity thought it was awful. She tried to convince him not to wear it. In fact, he was certain she tried to hide it from him. Shirts don't normally end up stuffed in a bag of peas.  He had to unthaw it.

He raised his shot glass in the air, not willing to admit that any more and he would be pushing into a cozy tipsiness. He brought the glass to his mouth and downed it quickly, cringing at the flavor. Whatever it was, it was strong-- it burned nearly as much as firewhiskey!

Zel cleared his throat, "So..." He was just now noticing howclose Elysia was standing, and shifted uncomfortably though he did not make an effort to move. "I've been playing Mario Kart." He emphasized the 't' sound. He had been calling the game Mario Car for the last few months before anyone else's correction finally stuck. "It is a racing game... But instead of racing on broomsticks, these characters race in colorful muggle cars. I like to play as Birdo."

"That is an atrocious lie," Sophie's voice bounced from the bottom of the stair, where she stood with a drink in hand and lazy smile on her lips, "I have it on good authority you're a magnificent hugger. In fact, so splendiferous are his hugs I believe I went through a mild case of withdraw while all of you were away and I was on a tour bus with eight grown men I had to remind to shower".

She jumped from the bottom step and bounded over to the never-vertically challenged Hufflepuff and slung an arm around his neck. Sophie wouldn't say the decision not to go on the school trip was completely disastrous, after all she had gotten to spend a lot of time with her father and the rest of Mandrake Siren but she had really missed her friends - especially Zel. Even though it had been a year since Fig "outed" him to the entire school the tiny Gryffindor worried about how he was really adjusting to something so life changing.

She wiggled her fingers in a passive hello to Theo, she'd never been sure how to take Whitman - choosing to fall somewhere between mild respect to moderate indifference as long as he wasn't mucking about in something she felt really mattered. The smile she shot Ji-Hyun was decidedly warmer in tone, brown eyes sparkling a little before she finally disentangled her person from Zel's. Stepping back, hands on her hips, she looked at the little gathered group expectantly, "Come on then, you haven't seen me in weeks and weeks! Someone tell me how fabulous and tall I look. I tried to grow a whole inch and a half while I was gone".

Not quite a year since her sudden and seemingly finale escape from the Hogwarts world. Keeping in touch via letters and infrequent appearances at events over the year was enough to make Ollie wonder if she was going to be a distance memory in many of her former classmates minds. Of course there were a number, maybe a handful, that would remember her. For better or worse. Abandoning the problem had solved nothing. Regret had plagued her even still without seeing the face of who she harmed. But she got over it. Some help, counselling, she knew it was not her fault truly. It took a lot of healing to get back to where she was, or closer to it, being okay with being a werewolf. It was the only life she knew. She had no choice.

Walking down the stairs, she felt her combat boot clad feet hit the stairs with thud. She wondered who she would find in the basement. Sophie had told her to come, but she had responded with her usual yeah maybe. That generally meant not a chance in hell. It was just easier to stay separate after she left. But with her mother's persuasive powers she had decided to return to Hogwarts for her Seventh Year after being tutored by Effie for the past years work. It would be strange going back to learning in the constricted class environment. But with McGonagall on board as Headmistress for her being a werewolf at school, and well there was Zel and Sophie. It would work. She could make it work. Step one in doing that was going to this dang party. Yup, she would go. Her mother had ushered her out the door, but not before wishing she had put on better clothing. But Ollie had raised her eyebrow being like what was the problem. Ripped jean shorts, tank top, with a sweater barely hanging to her shoulders. Scars on display, had she finally felt brave enough not to hide them? Sort of. Everyone knew what she was, and quite honestly she had made herself comfortable not hiding them that she had actually stopped thinking about them.

Pushing some hair from her face, which was shorter than they last remember and back to a more natural colour for her, she appeared in the basement. "I don't think you succeed in that inch and a half duck. Might have to resign yourself to be a shrimp for life." Ollie said with a sarcastic tone, as she shrugged her shoulders. She peered around in that moment as well to see who was there. A wave of relief at seeing Zel. Plus a few other seventh year puffs. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

Leading the party from upstairs down.

---

Relief was swift when Xavier released her to embrace Eli.  If there were two people Jordyn did not understand more than anyone, it was those two.  Eli never struck her as the sort to actually be in Slytherin, despite his placement in the house and Xavier was… well, they’d had their share of run ins that had him occupying a sort of Jekyll-Hyde place in her mind.  If he was busy with Eli though – then Jordyn was free to stand on her own in the very warm (and packed) entry way. 

It seemed like a million things were happening at once – merlios were flying everywhere, there was some bottle being passed around – and too many mouths on it to even be considered mildly hygienic.  Jordyn couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at it – but didn’t even have time to comment on it to Gracie before a very unstable Chloe also quite literally tripped into the scene.

Her surprised look was met with Gracie’s bemused one and it was a matter of moments before she needed to be helped up and the suggestion of the basement was brought up.  Yes, Jordyn mentally congratulated herself, a large group so she wouldn’t have to go down herself and seek something to drink.  Her anxiety was enough that she would never move anywhere other people weren’t going.  “Downstairs sounds fantastic,” she put her hands out just in case Chloe needed some extra assistance.  “
 
She seemed fine after a moment though and Jordyn let out a deep breath.  She was about to offer assistance and step out of the way when Tracy offered his arm and Jordyn instantly felt her cheeks warming up.  Maybe if he had a shirt on she wouldn’t have felt so much fluttering in her stomach, but she supposed that was probably going to be the case with anyone.  “Alright,” she smiled nervously and took his arm, letting him lead toward the basement (following Eli’s quest for more merlinos, most likely).  She didn’t see who followed because she feared if she looked over her shoulder she might fall down the stairs (rescue by handsome, American boy aside-  it would be embarrassing). 

Almost as embarrassing as when she noticed the downstairs company was slightly less… Slytherin-homey than upstairs, except for Theo –of course.  She saw Verity – her competition (probably only competition) for Head Girl still (in a situation Jordyn never would have imagined for someone like her! And so early in the evening?!) some more Hufflepuffs – a few Gryffindors.  It was quite the assortment of people and they seemed to be playing some sort of competition on a big box with a moving picture on it.  Jordyn was not entirely familiar with muggle things, but she thought it might be a teevee.   

“Gracie really knows how to throw a party, doesn’t she?” she commented to Tracy, fingers twitching a little bit – even if she was wearing gloves, she could feel warm – very firm – skin under her fingers.  She let out a sigh when they got to the bottom of the stairs and she released (somewhat reluctantly), before raking her hand through her hair.  “Help me fetch some drinks?” she smiled only slightly nervously, looking around the group for who wanted a drink (and was in a place to actually have one) and someone to help her carry them. 

Kelvin wasn't sure how to take Whitman's instructions on how to play the game, and didn't get much out of it since he was too unnerved and too buzzed to process any of what was said.  And despite himself, sighed in relief when the Slytherin stood and went to get drinks.  A moment later it seemed the game was abandoned for the time being at least.

Finishing off his drink, he stood to make his way back upstairs where he knew his friends were.  And was promptly pushed into a wall as Amherst burst into the room.  It was definitely time to get up the stairs and away from all the older students.  Not that it was going to be much better in the crowd he'd retreated downstairs from before.  But at least his friends were up there.  Pushing away from the wall, he made his way up the stairs past some more seventh years heading down.

Kelvin exits.

Also following from upstairs...

---

Chloe was profusely apologizing as hey walked down stairs, seriously flustered. Whatever she was drinking was something he had never experienced. Chloe had never gotten this unstable this quickly. She didn't even want to be drunk! No one could honestly want to be that girl at the party, and with her pull for prefect going on, the last thing she needed to count against her was being an overly drunk girl at a party. God. If her professors could see her now.

"Thank you," she said as they reached the basement. Immediately, she crouched down and pulled off her heels, leaving them in her hand. She put them in a corner, tucked away, and walked back to the group. If she had forgotten her shoes here, Chloe knew it would be no big deal just to fly home barefoot, but she didn't really want to forget them. "Gracie, I'm so sorry, I promise, I'm not that drunk," she played it off with a smile. "I was actually on my way trying to find you to thank you for inviting me and to hand you this," outstretched was a present bag, green with silver tissue paper sticking out of it. "I couldn't find the present table itself, so I figured I should just hand it to you,"

Inside the bag was a pair of heels which, when paired with outfits, would take on the color of items Gracie would wear. They were a difficult thing to get her hands on, but after enough searching store by store, she finally found the last pair, right in the size she suspected Gracie wore. "If they don't fit, let me know, and I can go and get you the right size,"

Chloe knew that this was a lions den compared to other places she could be now, but after the summer she had had, Chloe wanted to fit in and be accepted, even if it was with the  slytherin hierarchy. And Eli was here. Chloe knew Eli, Eli was a friend of hers. She knew worst come to worst, he'd bale her out.

Theo reached the bar with minimal difficulty. It took a surprising amount of time to get there, since the basement was only… what—twenty, thirty feet long?—but he supposed he couldn’t be too put out, considering the amount of people currently spilling out of their seats (–or shoes, he noted bare feet with a distaste); the inconvenience could only be expected.

Parties such as this one weren’t much to his taste (–or rather, the sort he was often invited to), and the ones who threw them did not always find him to their tastes; it was open knowledge that, while nowhere near as vocal or careless about her feelings as some of their peers were, Gracie Slant was far from admiring. There was mutual respect, but it was outweighed by suspicion (on her part) and amusement (on his), and though they both prized one Alex Carstairs’ company, it was not a similarity they fawned over. So long as one didn’t try to contest the other’s friendship, they tolerated each other. They were not friends.

But things had changed over the last year – for better or worse – and whichever it may be, Theo found himself in the midst of a delicate truce regardless, with those he had previously written off. And now here he was, getting them drinks…

A few seats down from Verity and Micah, Theo took one by the bar, removing its previous occupant with a tap on the shoulder and a steady, pointed smile. “Two butterbeers, please,” he said, once the bartender looked his way.

She was tall, Zel’s sister, pale but easygoing and pleasant-looking in ways that her unfortunate brother wasn’t. More importantly, she was without her brother’s hostility, which was usually amusing but occasionally inconvenient. “Are you sure?” she asked, cleaning a glass. “I found a butterscotch liquor that is quite strong, too.”

Theo smiled. “Thank you, but they aren’t for me. I’ll have a water.”

He didn’t drink anything other than wine, when it came to alcohol, and never to the point of inebriety around someone other than Alex; the thought of losing control in such a way was unthinkable for the young man, especially when it might leave him so vulnerable to another’s mercy. To render himself as awkward and fumbling as a newborn– or worse: a peer–

With his build and characteristic control, Theo was no lightweight; he could have more than a few glasses and still recite several plays, essays, and treatises by heart. But he was not in the habit of drinking often, or much at all when he did, and like many he did, unfortunately, have his limits. Talkative, careless, even docile limits. No, he would continue to enjoy his personal experiences with teenage intoxication from a strictly observational standpoint, thank you.

Of course, not everyone shared his stance, nor ability to face their problems in a calm and composed manner. Verity in particular seemed quite keen on setting herself up for every cliché.

Poor Gallagher.

Luckily for them, Eli appeared, bringing with him chaos, noise, and a complete disregard for personal boundaries, and before his housemate could decide whether or not to intervene Eli latched onto him with trademark flair. Theo resigned himself to the hug, patting the exuberant Slytherin on the back.

Once Eli was gone, dashing away after an indignant toss of Merlinos, he resumed watching Verity and Micah. Specifically, Verity making a fool of herself. He was very nearly embarrassed for her, for he was quite certain there was a great deal of embarrassment in her future (he smiled a little at this), and moved to pity for Gallagher, whose face was possibly the closest the Slytherin had ever seen to a suicidal expression on another human being. Without his direct involvement.

Pulling out his phone, Theo took a picture. And then a few more, because why not.

“May I have a selfree? With you?”

A glass of water was set in front of him. Theo looked up and blinked; Emeline stared at the phone, eyeing it with purpose. It took a moment for him to realize when she had meant, and by then she had come out from behind the bar, peeking over his shoulder. She gave him what could only be described as a puppy dog pout. “Pleeease?”

Theo was, perhaps, a little astonished, and stared. He considered turning her down. But only for a second; a smile swiftly took across his face, indulgent and amused. Friendly. “Of course,” he agreed, thumb already swiping across the screen.

Once the camera was activated, he held out the phone and leaned back, just enough to include her in the frame. Heads tilted together, the flash went off. “Do you have a number?” he inquired as he inspected the shot. It was quite good. “So that I may send it to you.”

She did. Head bowed over the phone – fingers rapidly tapping in the number – Theo smirked.

He didn’t have long, however, before his attention was diverted again by the stir of new arrivals; not long after Flickwick made her appearance (–Foley, of course, never far behind) so had Jordyn & Co., the girl herself heading the group as they leisurely descended the stairs. Much to Theo’s interest she arrived not on the arm of Jai Patil, but a tall, brawny, shirtless youth—one of the American champions, if he remembered correctly.

Well, well. Truly it was a night for firsts.

Two more glasses appeared. However, one of them wasn’t what he had ordered, and so after a quick sniff Theo looked up with a frown. “Thank you,” he said, lowering the glass, “but I ordered two–?”

“That’s for Zel,” Emeline replied, grinning. “He’ll hate it, I promise.”