Friday the 13th
6:44pm
Canterbury Estate (current layout)

To say Polly Esther Ligeia Canterbury had been planning this night for months was an understatement. It had been nearly seven years since her own graduation from Hogwarts, practically a school age of its own, and look how differently life was now for people. She had spent two and half years abroad visiting the strangest, most harrowing parts of the world thanks to her TerrorTours itinerary, mixed with various volunteering stints at international clinics. And now that she was established as Healer on the Plants & Potions Poisonings floor, she wanted to reminiscence with others near her generation. Tonight was about them, not her; although she did have her surprises in store...

Of course, the eclectic collection of the museum-like Canterbury Estate certainly prompted many a conversation for any guests lacking in discourse, given the particular purpose of various rooms. If there was anything that unified the disparate scores of Canterbury relatives who had inhabited the manor over the decades, due to Papa Argyle's several marriages and out of wedlock offspring, it was interior decorating. The house had different purposes over the years.

Guests would enter via the Foyer, the entry and interior halls of the ground floor leading off to other chambers. Buzzard, once a terror of the Hogwarts grounds, was Ligeia's pet Griffon vulture almost as snowy white as her compared to his youthful grey. He was perched on the railing of the central stairs as if to deter guests from climbing to the next storey. The only other notable feature was a stuffed Erumpet in the middle of the Foyer, a holdout from the Trophy Hall were most of Argyle & Ligeia's extensive taxidermy collection had been relocated. Several other totems from various vacations were housed within, along with other pieces in the Parlor where most of the sitting area was spaced.

Next door to the parlor was the Dining Room, where the main buffet was laid out. Exquisite looking food to fit various diets, although some looked more suited for a Halloween ball. But that was Ligeia's personal style for you, such as buttery ladyfingers on the dessert table that looked like they had been plucked from a corpse. In the adjacent Kitchen you occasionally heard the freed elf steward of the estate, Stumps, hobble along on his soup-can leg and fire poker cane, although he would disappear from sight whenever somebody entered.

Another relocation was Ligeia's Laboratory from the upper floor. The experimental brews had been secured elsewhere, yet the remains of various cauldrons and equipment stood along the counters, along with her reference library. The lab was sandwiched between the Kitchen and the Conservatory, the indoor greenhouse that was probably the quietest area to retreat to after braving the Trophy Hall or the Laboratory. Some plants were green but most were thorny, with tinted glass affecting views of the sunset and water burbling from the gargoyle in the fountain. And that rustling noise was hopefully just Yomiel in the underbrush, not that Ligeia's pet cat that had been rescued from Red Caps was any less menacing than Buzzard.

---

But the party was already underway, yet still within the time-frame for some guests to be fashionably late. Although the hostess as pale as a ghost-ess hadn't quite followed her own dress recommendation of a singular colour scheme with few accents, on account of rarely seeing Ligeia dress in anything besides black or white outside of her healer's robes. Tonight, she was dressed in midnight blue and bronze, Ravenclaw House colors. Much like the birds featured in the iconography, her feathery collar and headdress featured plumage from various varieties of avian. Including a bird skull hidden somewhere in there, a new addition since she had last worn an outfit like this during the Tournament Welcoming Feast the year she made prefect.

"I want to hear all the tidbits after I check on something," Ligeia said to one of the attendees.[1] There was the odd echo of raucous jeers from the Trophy Hall, which was a sign that the stuffed jarvey had the vole fall out of its mouth again.

Then the doorbell rang, which was a chorus of bat screeches. Various roars and shrieks had graced the Canterbury doorbell, although Mandrake Cry had a short period of usage on account of visitors falling unconscious on the welcome mat. "Hold that thought," Ligeia crossed to the door, were there were three painted skulls on a side table with their cranial cavities exposed. She pointed at each when greeting the new arrival(s).[2] "Welcome! That one's an ashtray, that one has licorice sharps, and that one's for the greeting card swap. Don't get them mixed up."

1.	Open to anybody
2.	And anybody else too!

Samuel was prompt, arriving in what he could afford; an orange pin-striped suit that didn't quite fit right, dark blue dress shirt with matching orange slacks. He scrounged enough extra galleons for a new pair of warmed-brown dress shoes that matched the rest of his outfit. He didn't feel like he quite met the general aesthetic, but it was what he could afford at the moment.

He felt excited about the party and looked forward to attending. The older Ravenclaw had been a mentor to him throughout their time in school, and she'd been a welcome reprieve at St. Mungos. Her friendship made the rigors of his specialization feel slightly less rigorous. He was glad he had a friend he could rely on.

But he couldn't get used to her choice in decor. In fact, the first time he'd come he swore he'd bring sage and pray over the house. Though he was a wizard, it was hard for him to completely divorce himself from his internalized muggle beliefs that he grew up with.[1]

So he said a short prayer to himself before pushing the doorbell, wincing at the sounds of bats screeching. At least it wasn't the coconut babies any longer..."Hey, Ligeia! Looking festive as ever." His eyes trailed the craniums as she explained their purpose. "I brought some juice[2]," holding up a cheap bottle of vodka as an offering, "where should I drop it off?"

1.	He's not religious! Just a leftover quirk.
2.	Alcohol -- because what party is a party without tons of booze.

Noah felt a little.. ridiculous getting ready to go to a reunion when he hadn't even been out of school but a few years...

On the other hand though, it was well worth it if it meant making more connections.

His father drilled as much into his head from a young age, mingle, rub elbows, socialize, etc.. The man was like a record on repeat. So with much chagrin, he pulled on a solid black suit and tie, leaving the latter looser around his neck than was the norm. Being 'late' wasn't particularly a plan of his, but he did drag his feet with making himself look presentable before apparating to the estate. He'd never been there before but if his last meeting with Ligeia was true to her personality, he could only assume her place of residence would be equally as fascinating.

He'd shown up empty handed, but looking around, so had several other guests, putting him slightly more at ease. He could only guess that there was some sort of committee that funded these sort of class reunion events..

Trying not to stare too hard at any given... decoration? He slunk in, nodding at party-goers here and there and kept mostly to himself while sipping on what he had originally assumed to be a craft lager of some sort which turned out to be a pumpkin flavored drink instead. It was gloriously spiked though and he wondered if that was on purpose, or someone thought themselves cute by making a nod at their student days. Surely no one here was underaged, so it would be a pointless waste of booze to 'spike the pumpkin juice'..

"Dear Samuel! This will be perfect, I could only get a few selections from the wine cellar." The hostess was making her rounds flittering in and out of conversations the way her eyes would be seen twitching due to nystagmus. "Either the serving cart in the Dining Room or into the Kitchen, darling Stumpts will take care of it."

One got the general sense of how far removed from Ligeia's Class of 2011 some guests were in age the more bewildered they took in the ambiance of the Canterbury Estate. Those directly in her year had learned Ligeia Canterbury didn't put on an act. Nor anyone invited to dinner by Lord Canterbury. Papa Argyle had rarely discouraged her from looking into his grisly auror cases and the topics extended from that. Her innate curiosity, mixed with eccentric upbringing and her father's senility resulted in the genuine perky goth yet non-Dark Artist P.E. Ligeia Canterbury. Accept no substitutes.

"How do you find the punch, Mr. Jackson? Juiced in just the right way, as Samuel Chávez would say." Spiked pumpkin juice was the intended effect. "Actually, the only non-alcoholic fare is the springwater and the butterbeer. Hard to improve upon a classic. Although if you're feeling adventurous the hot chocolate is venomous," she pointed to the warning sign next to some suspiciously purple cocoa.

Brief conversation and then off again, she was trying to be everywhere at once.

Killian Acadia: Acadia & Son's Construction (Oldest Son) - Gryffindor Alumni, Age 28

"Come on, it'll be fine, Merlin you'd think this was going to kill you or something." Kil shook Laurie's shoulder roughly, laughing while also eyeing the crowd clearly looking for someone.

His friend knew how Laurie felt about this evening. Yes, Ligeia had been nice enough to extend an invitation to him after he'd been contracted to held her make some minor floorplan changes to the estate to better accommodate the event, but he hadn't taken her seriously.

Watching Killian make eye contact with a dark haired gentlemen and then slink off through the crowd was enough to make his blood boil. He'd convinced him to come... more like, forced him to come, claiming he needed a wingman, but here he was, already ditched!

Fuming internally, he make his way toward the refreshments table, largely ignoring the curious glances sent his way. Clearly no one recognized him.. and poured himself a cup of the first drink he approached. A strange but smooth purple liquid. After taking a rather large drink, his eyes opened wide and he swallowed hard, doing his best not to fall into a coughing fit.

He placed a hand on his chest and took a deep breath, eyeing the liquid closer this time.

Damn. It.

"Of course, go do your thing," Gus said smoothly to Ligeia as the hostess excused herself to greet the next wave of guests. With a small smile and eyes already flashing over the rest of the crowd, searching for her next victim new friend, the blonde witch brought her glass of spicy pumpkin punch to her lips. The deep, bottle green hue of her mini-dress looked almost black in the dim lighting, but now and then one of the emerald gems sewn into the tight bodice caught and sparkled. She propped an elbow atop the mantelpiece of the fireplace and just watched.

That's usually why she came to these things. Sometimes she chatted; particularly if there was someone around worth chatting to. But ever since she'd added a superstar quidditch Carstairs to her books, people had been coming to her. She couldn't quite make out if her recent success had made Papa Rom proud or angry, especially since she'd had a lot less time for the Wilde side of business in the last month or so, but she was trying not to dwell on it. This was a party, after all.

She had arrived on time, of course, like a good little guest. She'd also come armed with a gift. Recalling the hostess' habit of ordering a gin chaser with her Possessed Mary, and her story of the culinary delights from a trip to Japan, Gus had offered a beautifully crafted bottle of Watenshi Gin. The Wildes might aspire to the kind of old school charm and consideration that Canterbury had in spades, but Augusta knew that such things weren't won by family line alone. What good was an old name if it was attached to a charmless drip?

She perked up a little when she saw Noah Jackson arrive. Reunions could sometimes be tedious affairs, especially when one had no fellow Slytherins to team up with. Gus began to move away from the fireplace, bound for the band manager, when her attention was stolen by a dark-haired stranger, who would have been undoubtedly very sexy had he not been in the process of coughing up a lung.

Helpfully, she pointed at the sign above the purple hot chocolate. "Achtung, baby."

As Laurie caught his breath again, he nearly started at the sight of the striking woman before him. Something about the long, blonde hair still gave him Veela flashbacks from Bulgaria. Thankfully though, she was quite clear of the charm, of that much he could tell right away, though she was quite stunning in her own right. He refrained from fully looking her up and down, lest he offend her, nonetheless he could tell from just a glance that dress did wonders for her legs.

Wow.

Glancing up at the sign she pointed to then back down into the cursed purple drink, he delicately placed the cup back on the table from whence it came, thinking 'What in the bloody hell..?' He'd known Ligeia was a bit eccentric but apparently he didn't know her well enough to have thought to pay attention before consuming anything. Or perhaps it was some sort of inside Hogwarts joke he was unaware of?

"Do.. people willingly drink that?" He asked her on a whim. It seemed he was unable to internalize that thought.

Gus laughed; surprise coming through in the sound. "Nobody in their right mind," she answered after a few moments, eyeing the poor, unsuspecting chocolate-drinking soul, perhaps a little charmed. "But the effects are cumulative. If you stop now, you might live." With a flash of a mischievous grin, she waved him over to the table. "Let me help you make better choices." Merlin's frilly pantaloons, but she was so caring. Nobody could ever say she wasn't compassionate.

Actually, pretty much everyone said that.

She dipped a skull-shaped glass into the bowl of pumpkin punch and handed it to the dark-haired wizard. "This will help. It has actual booze in it, too. Medicinal."

Their most colourful outfits in a single colour scheme.
That was the dress code.
Cassius rubbed his face and stared in horror at the disaster before him and it was a disaster: - he had to choose between green, red, blue, or yellow. It was a reunion after all and so it was only fitting to wear Hogwarts colours, right? But then there were bound to be many others who thought the same and he’d end up in the designated ‘house colours’ group and would be confined to mingle with only them.

Huffing, Cassius waved his wand and his clothes swung back into his wardrobe. No – wait a minute. Now that was an idea. It was a single colour scheme, right? Not a single colour. This would work and he’d be able to eloquently honour his time at Hogwarts.

He'd made his way – by means of apparition – to the Canterbury Estate (and he’d sadly forgotten the two bottles of vodka he’d purchased for the event), making sure to arrive fashionably late so that he could avoid all the awkward start-of-the-party chitter-chatter. Cassius then walked in with his ever-confident stride; wand looped on the inside of his Pine Needle two-button suit (with matching waistcoat). The breast pocket held a black and white pocket square. His tie had a strikingly similar design to their old Hogwarts uniform and his shirt was white. He felt spectacular as he moved to where most of the guests were. He’d recognised a few faces from his school days though, understandably, they all looked several years aged. He’d stood still for a moment trying to ponder his first move – should he mingle immediately or introduce himself and thank the host?

Initially opting for the latter, he then noticed Ligeia seemed to be in conversation with someone else; he’d have to make a point to greet her later and Cassius eventually found himself creeping up behind two people stood over the punch table. Placing his hands on his sister’s shoulders to get her attention, Cassius then stood back and smiled.

“Long time, sis,” he said playfully and then looked toward who she was with. Merlin’s beard, wasn’t this meant to be a Hogwarts reunion? Maybe he’d misread the invitation.

“And… Laurie?” Cassius perked his neck forward, “I don’t remember you going to Hogwarts,” he said jokingly then moved past his sister and extended his hand toward Lawrence, opening up an offer for one of their drunken-nights-at-the-pub Bro-Hugs, “It’s good to see you… It’s been a while. Like,” he furrowed his brows in thought, “Three? Four? Days” he finally turned back to his sister, his demeanour shifting almost entirely, “Been a little longer for you though, Gus,” Cassius smiled softly, tone matching, and twisted his wrists with a half-shrug in invitation, “Hug for your baby brother?”

Still feeling the lingering burn from the venom laced chocolate, he grinned sheepishly at her reaction, glad that this was not the norm for the general Hogwarts population. 

He eyed the skull-shaped glass with a mix of skepticism and amusement. “If you say so,” he began, taking the glass and peering down into the contents for show. “Who am I to refuse doctor’s orders?” He gave her a wry smile and took a cautious sip, the corners of his eyes crinkling with silent amusement.

He’d been about to ask for her name when a familiar figure appeared, and an eyebrow raised when the word ‘sis’ was used. He had to hold himself back from saying those very cliché words ’This is your sister?!?’[/i] Instead he bit the inside of his lip and cursed his bad luck. As much as he liked to claim he didn’t have a type, clearly that was a lie.

He shrugged at Cass before switching the spiked-pumpkin beverage to his left and grabbing the offered hand for the full-thing, probably looking like a couple of muggle frat-boys in the process. “Did some work for Ligeia here at the Estate and she extended the invitation. I’m an honorary Hogwarts alum tonight.” He joked wiggling his brows. Of course, he left out the part where his employer-slash-best friend all but dragged him along. He hummed along to Cass’ assessment, and watched the interaction between the siblings with a carefully neutral expression.

So this was Gus….

She watched him as he eyed the drink, her own eyes on him, studying his expression as it betrayed his amusement in the kind of engaging way that seemed to pull her in. "I do so like it when they can follow orders," Gus said smoothly before covering a decidedly impish grin behind her own glass. Maybe she was testing the waters a little. Or maybe she was just entertaining herself and thought that this dark-haired wizard with the easy smiles might help her with that.

Alas, frater obloquitur.

"Cassie," she greeted her brother. Her brows rose in some surprise as he embraced the chocolate wizard like a very old pal - rather, bro, as the Muggles referred to this kind of insufferable camaraderie - and said his name. It rang a bell. She wanted to ask Laurie more about his work, but Cassius was being Cassius.

Gus sighed and beheld her brother, not answering straight away. She took a long drink from her glass, using the opportunity to look him up and down, ostensibly judging his ensemble. In reality, what she was really doing was making sure that he looked okay. And he looked well; which infuriated her and pleased her in equal measure. "And whose fault is that?" She asked him. Had they been alone she'd have asked how he'd managed to miss the last several emergency family meetings that their father had called, but they were not alone and Wilde business was business for Wildes only.

She melted eventually. She rolled her eyes but her features did soften as she stepped toward her younger brother to give him a quick, but tight hug. When she stepped back, she delivered a punch to his shoulder.

It was really very juvenile, but she didn't care.

Cassie.
Cassius hoped with every fibre in his being that Lawrence didn’t pick up on that. He hated the nickname. He always had and Augusta, being Augusta, knew that all too well so it had become her go-to for him. He figured that was the reason she had so vehemently stuck to it for so long.

“Oooh,” Cassius tilted his head toward Lawrence with a playful grin, “Well, honorary Hogwarts alum, we’re gonna have to get you singing the school song, then,” he shrugged, “It’s only fair! All students have to sing it. Honorary or not.”

When he’d turned to his sister, Cassius arched his brow when she made the point to slowly drink from her glass. She wasn’t doing it to make him wait (well, that might have been a part of it. This was Gus after all) but the expression painted across her features made it plain she was giving him a once over; checking on him. He knew the reason: - he hadn’t been particularly involved in Family affairs as of late (and had all but ignored any letter that had come his way).

Her question was very pointed; it was something he’d have to face sooner or later. “I’ve been busy,” Cassius responded plainly. He knew not to broach any family business in this setting. He may not have been in his fathers’ good books anymore – and hadn’t been in a long while – but he still respected the man and the Wilde way of doing things.

Rubbing his arm, Cassius narrowed his eyes toward his sister before stepping off to the side to form a triangle between the three. The hug was nice and was returned in kind.

“So, Laurie, Gus,” he looked between the two. Knowing his sister, there was likely only one reason why she was speaking to Lawrence, “Talking about anything in particular? I wasn’t interrupting, was I?” Cassius smiled innocently.

Making her rounds as hostess, Ligeia found that most were still gathered near the front of the manor. Parlor, Dining Room, even parts of the Foyer or Trophy Hall. Fewer were in the other rooms but she made her checks all the same.

The vodka from Samuel Chávez joined its fellows in the Kitchen, although Augusta Wilde's Watenshi Gin was given a spot of honor on the shelf compared to the cheaper alcohols brought along. Stumpts was keeping the kitchen immaculate, as wrought iron and filled with sharp implements you'd expect in a Canterbury kitchen, although oddly there was a lead pipe bent askew over the sink that hadn't been repaired or removed.

At least a busted pipe in the Kitchen was non-surprising. Those ducking by the Laboratory would see a noose trailing off a shelf next to notes about fire-proofing treatments. A Draught of Death would have made more sense locked up in the lab rather than sitting on a shelf of gardening supplies in the Conservatory next to the additives and weed-killer. Among the taxidermy displays in the Trophy Hall, for some reason a spotted lynx wore a cursed looking necklace as a collar.

Completing a loop, Ligeia caught sight of Samuel Chávez again. "Hope you are getting settled and mingling. You haven't seen Augusta Wilde, have you? I was just talking to her over by the fireplace." Said fireplace in the Parlor had a crossbow above the mantle, although ammunition was within easy reach. "Most are still circling the buffet but we shan't run out. Aha!"

The threshold between the Parlor and Dinning Room had one of the bigger doorways, so it was easy to catch sight of the knot of conversation with the two Wilde siblings and Lawrence Filch. She wasn't going to interrupt their conversation, although her next comment would be easily heard by those nearby.

"I was so hoping to receive replies from more of the TetraWizard Tournament students that graced us at Hogwarts the year before I graduated. Those invitations were sent further in advance." Hogwarts alumni made up most of the attendees, naturally, although the Tournament had made for an extra perilous year. Acromantulas! Haunted secret chambers! Plunging into the Forbidden Forest and a deadly hedge maze! Actually not as deadly, no decoy portkeys or murdered champions on that go around.

And lest further conspicuous details be missed, there was an ornate dagger sticking out of a blackened block of cheese in the Dining Room. Although that was for practical reasons, given that lesser cheese knives would break in half carving into such a hardened, peculiar vintage.

Samuel wasn't exactly sure who Augusta was, but did vaguely know Cassius from the time in school. They weren't classmates, though. "I saw them getting drinks." He relayed. Samuel had settled in talking to Sharon Wembley[1], a Hufflepuff from his year, near the Dining Room.

Sam noticed the ornate dagger and approached it. The cheese it was stuck in didn't look very edible. "I wonder..." He put his spiked pumpkin flavored drink down on the table and tried to pull it out from the cheese. At this point he was committed to the action and knew that he probably had to eat the brick now, to be polite.

Or get his sliced cheese to the trash as quietly as possible.

1.

NPC