Clad in white, Maggie scowled at her reflection in Colette’s full length mirror, running her wand over another piece of hair. It stubbornly remained limp and lifeless. The curls she did manage looked more like overcooked macaroni than the luscious locks she was going for.

The problem was that Maggie normally didn’t fuss with these things. She often let her hair air dry, boasting that it looked damn good that way, and dared anyone to tell her she needed to wear more makeup. So when fancy occasions came up to bite her in the rear, Maggie ran around with her head cut off, trying to learn everything there was about beauty charms in one hour. Her clumsy attempts only resulted in limp curls, runny mascara, and excessive swearing, but Maggie never learned.

She wasn’t so sure about this Halloween thing, anyway! Like any other night, witches and wizards got drunk and hit on each other, except everyone looked more ridiculous doing so. She’d been telling her friends that this was silly for weeks. Of course, despite her protests, somehow she’d found the time to dig up a costume. The theme? Greek Badass Women. The concept rocked, she had to admit. And though it was juvenile, she liked the idea of dressing up together and going as a group of friends.

It was too bad she’d done nothing but push her friends away, lately. They were being extra nice to her… maybe too nice, and all they got in return were her sullen silences and cranky outbursts. Maggie shook her head. Perhaps she should be the Headless Horseman, the Grim Reaper, or something better suited to her mood. Atalanta was impressive, but Maggie almost felt pretty in her short white dress and gladiator sandals. Pretty, with a vulnerable pout to her mouth. More virginal sacrifice than Greek heroine.

 “Feck that,” she muttered, her mouth compressing into a thin line as she gave up on her hair and raised her wand to her face. Her eyebrows drew together in concern, knowing, just knowing, that she was going to get mascara everywhere but her lashes.

The doorbell sounded, saving her from a poke in the eye. Maggie bounded down the stairs.

“Finally!” she peeked through the window to see two dark heads. Her saviors! She flung open the door and pulled them in.

“Thank Merlin you guys are here. Look at this,” Maggie tugged irritably on one of her locks and the curly texture vanished.

When everyone was inside, she shot another glance out the window, shut the door and locked it. Going out tonight made her a bit nervous. The London wizarding community was small and Halloween had a way of bringing out the troublemakers. It would be just her luck to run into Tawse, Dazmond, or anyone else attached to the arrests on the 14th.

Maggie glanced over at the young woman beside Niobe and offered her a brief smile.

“I’m Mags. I read that drivel in the paper this morning about your brother. If I’d known Skeeter would stoop so low…” she shook her head, letting her sentence remain unfinished. Rita loved nothing more than to make drama out of nothing, ripping apart people’s private lives for entertainment. That wasn’t news. It didn’t even belong in Witch’s Weekly.

“Colette’s still in the bath, pretending like she can’t hear my calls for help,” Maggie rolled her eyes up at the ceiling.

“Everything’s upstairs,” she gestured them forward and started up.

"Meet another of the good-hearted reporters," Niobe said to Jacoba in a wide grin, her Irish accent lilting merrily.  She and Jacoba were hooked arm in arm and Niobe took her into the apartment with her. 

Only over the threshold did Niobe release her new found friend.  They weren't at all close yet, but that didn't stop Niobe from being very very excited.  Jacoba was intensely interesting, mostly because she was a muggle who seemed to have sorted everything out on her own.  And since her brother was a wizard, the Ministry didn't seem to be doing anything about it.  Of course they'd swoop in should Jacoba start trying to get a wand on the BBC. 

But for now, Niobe was infatuated and consumed.  She shucked her lime green coat on the floor by the coatrack, and followed Maggie up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Once there, she started pulling items from her large canvas tote.

"You two are going to love this party.  If you've never been to a St. James get-together get ready for a whole mess of 'sexy cat' costumes.  It's hilarious.  All the rich young things come tottering out in heels, lingerie and cat ears.  The food's delicious and the comedy and drama are ceaseless.  And all sorts if insane people show up.  Quidditch stars, ex-Azzies, sometimes stuck up little Hogwarts kids, Aurors - all of them.  And you'll bet they'll have me and my friends there.  We are so very important being reporters, aren't we?"  For that last sentence, she affected a very posh tone.

She sat up from the bag and slipped one some dark lipstick without a mirror.

"Best. Holiday. Ever!" she barked at Jacoba, giddy with anticipation.

Just as much as Niobe was totting along her token muggle for the effect of it, Jacoba knew she was, largely, standing in the other woman's presence for much the same reason.  Only from a different perspective.  Jacoba had years of experience in choosing her companions largely based off of the shade of red they'd achieve in her father's face.  Though Jacoba had been free of her father's immediate grasp for almost three years, there was no doubt the nine-fingered woman's dreadlocks had inspired Jacoba to take Niobe up on her offer for social excursions. 

Not to mention, Jacoba was simply in dire needs of some social time with someone other than Dreogan.  Whenever he was around, that was. 

Good-hearted reporters.  "There are many that consider such a concept an oxymoron," Jacoba returned with an equally wide grin.  Her own German accent was considerably stronger than her brothers and stood in stark contrast to the other woman's lilt.

Despite the obvious hair-malfunctions, the woman that answered the door looked quite attractive in her white gown.  "What spray are you using?" Jacoba asked, curiously, when the curl fell instantly out of Maggie's hair. 

"Jacoba," she offered in return greeting, rolling her eyes slightly at the mention of the article.  Hopefully, her brother wasn't too angry with her.  "Well, it might have been low - but, it was pretty accurate, unfortunately."  There was no need for it to be written, but, at least, it hadn't actually been filled with lies.

It mattered little that she'd only met Niobe a short while previously; she accompanied the woman into the strange apartment without a second thought.  And, if she was going to be remaining in London - as it seemed she was slowly resolving to do - she preferred to stick to circles that had a low likelihood of crossing paths with old acquaintances.  So far, these wizarding types seemed well-suited for that. 

After retrieving the light, peach dress (a glorious find at a thrift store, if she did say so herself) and her back with make up and hair supplies, her own small nylon backpack was dumped, unceremoniously, on the floor next to Niobe's canvas tote along with her fleece and nylon coat.  "I understood almost all of that," Jacoba declared proudly as she trailed the others up the stairs.  Quidditch - she got that.  Her brother played that, though the details were still shaky.  Aurors - Adon was an auror, that she got.  Hogwarts kids.  Again, her brother probably qualified as a stuck-up little Hogwarts kid.  The other one, though, was lost on her.  "I once wrote an editorial for the Uni newspaper," Jacoba offered with a nod.  As far as she was concerned, that qualified her for the club. 

As was their little ritual, Maggie shook her head, picked up Niobe’s coat off the floor, and put it in its proper place on the coat rack before heading up the stairs. She pretended to be annoyed each time it happened, but couldn’t help smirking, especially since Niobe’s new friend had just done the exact same thing.

“No spray,” she answered Jacoba and glanced over her shoulder. “Just magic. It would be fine except for the fact that I suck at beauty charms. You didn’t bring any, did you? Maybe I’d have better luck with a hair curler, too. Anything’s gotta be better at this point.”

Her mum likely kept some old fashioned muggle supplies around the house, though Maggie wanted to avoid a stop home and the questions about where she’d be going tonight. Her mother’s well intentioned worrying had just felt stifling, lately. Maggie knew her parents had every reason to worry over her, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

Once they were in Colette’s room (they’d chosen Colette’s because she had more girly things. Like an actual mirror), Maggie perched on the bed and watched Niobe unpack her stuff and chatter away. The comment about the sexy cat costumes nearly made her smile. The image of Charlotte and her friends prancing about in their underwear was just so like them.

“Oh great, Niobe,” Maggie butt in, rolling her eyes. “I’m just dying to chat up the Ex-Azzies tonight. Ask them what they loved most about life in the slammer. They’ll be thrilled to see us, I’m sure.”

She gave Niobe a look. Maggie told herself she was happy her friend had gotten over the jumpiness and fear that had been holding her back these past few months. She was, really. Right now, however, Maggie was the one jumping at shadows and trying to get over her near death experience. It wasn’t easy to feel like she was being ridiculous for wanting to avoid situations that could get her into trouble.

“It’ll be interesting, at least,” she sighed, raising an eyebrow when Jacoba declared that she’d written an editorial, once. “You’ll fit right in with us, then,” she gave her a half smile, rising to inspect her hair in the mirror.

“So, Colette’s Circe, which suits her perfectly.” Evil. Witchy. Evil. Yup, it described her roommate to a tee. “Niobe’s… Niobe.” Another good choice. “I’m Atalanta. You know, the one who bested the men at everything, only to be tricked by a few golden apples. It’s always apples, I swear,” she shook her head, frowning when her curls refused to bounce.

In the reflection she saw Niobe skillfully applying makeup, and Jacoba with her peach dress.

“That’s a pretty color,” she commented. “What are you going as?”

Lipstick thickly applied, Niobe unfurled her dreads and shook them out.  She took them up in bundles and set to  sorting them out for a Greek-inspired up-do.  She stood behind Maggie to look into Colette's mirror. 

If a party could be at all dangerous, it was the St. James Halloween party.  But that wasn't saying much, and danger was the furthest thing from Niobe's mind.  She wasn't going to be alone in some dark alley.  She'd have her friends about.  And the party would be crawling with as many allies as creeps.  There was no place Niobe felt more confident tonight during the witching hours.  And so she felt no qualms whatsoever going with Maggie Groust who'd been recently attacked and injured.  No hesitation about bringing a muggle woman to a place of unadulterated, unsupervised wizarding party culture.

She laughed at Jacoba's claim that she'd understood most of what Niobe had said - she caught on quickly!  Jacoba was vibrant and bold and Niobe liked her.  She seemed like a natural adjunct to what Niobe had with Maggie and Colette. She didn't look like a muggle.  Imean, she wore muggle clothing, but not to the party, and those lines were so blurry anyway.  What was muggle, what was magical.  Nearly every child magic or otherwise grew up in a pair of ratty jeans.  Niobe had half expected to see something in Jacoba that gave her away, in her face or radiating like an aura.  But of course not.  She was a woman, just like they were.  She wondered if any of those pureblooded rich kids at the party would even be able to tell. 

What a devilishly exciting question.

"Yeah - following the theme, love?" she turned to ask Jacoba.

Jacoba had spent enough years playing the role of free loader in others' houses to have learned to recognize those subtle cues that indicated resident house rules.  Not that there was anything subtle about Maggie scooping Niobe's coat off the floor.  With an amused grin, Jacoba quickly switched gears and started following Maggie's lead, plucking her own coat off the floor and hanging it up on the coat rack before following up the stairs.

"Magic?" Jacoba repeated, chuckling to herself.  "Is there anything you all don't do with magic?" she felt compelled to ask.  Maybe one had to be a ... magical person to fully understand it but Jacoba wasn't sure, if she were in their shoes, she'd be thrilled with the idea of pointing those wands at her own head.  "Do wizards ever accidentally fire the wrong spell or something?" Man, that'd suck. 

There was that word again.  "Ex-Azzie?" Jacoba repeated.  "They're ... convicts?" she asked, guessing as much from Maggies sarcastic tirade.  She positioned herself comfortably behind Maggie, running her fingers through the other woman's hair.  "Why are they going to be thrilled?"  Clearly, there was some secret, subliminal messaging going on between Niobe and Maggie and it only made Jacoba more curious. 

"I am," she answered them both with a grin.  "I was originally planning on going as an elf but then I heard about the theme.  My dress has multiple-costume potential, so it seems."  There was nothing like versatile costumes which could go from elfen damsel to grecian lady with only slightly modified accessories.  "I'm going as Pandora.  The one that destroys worlds with her curiosity." 


dress here - polyvore didn't want to upload it, so you just get the dress.

“Nope,” she replied flippantly to the magic questions, then grinned. “Some of us are better at it than others. I’m decent at hexes, though.” That probably didn’t make Jacoba feel any better.

Maggie’s expression brightened for an instant when Jacoba moved to help her with her hair. Normally, it took an excessive amount of complaining and flouncing about on her part before Colette or Niobe would ask if she needed something, so Maggie was glad she didn’t have to resort that. Asking outright for help was out of the question, of course. That would be too easy.

Maggie fell silent for a moment when Jacoba wondered why the Ex-Azzies would be ‘thrilled’ to see them. She glanced back at Niobe in the mirror’s reflection.

“Let’s just say I had a bad experience with an Ex-Azzie a few weeks ago, poking my nose in where it didn’t belong, as usual. Got in over my head,” Maggie shrugged, glancing down for a second and crossing her arms. The bandages were off, the burns looked much better. The few on her legs were barely noticeable. Still, she had permanent scarring. Since it was late October, it was chilly out and Maggie hadn’t had to show much skin in public, but now she was starting to regret her choice of a short, sleeveless white dress. Not that she would admit it, or refuse to wear the dress. She just felt very self-conscious, and gratefully latched onto the new topic of conversation- Jacoba's outfit.

“Pandora?” Maggie smirked. “Good choice. I think we can both relate to the curiosity part,” she nodded at Niobe, who looked bad-ass with her dark lipstick and crazy dreads.

“Do you have a box that you can cart around and threaten to open? I might have something if you don’t,” she offered, thinking of her old wooden jewelry box with carvings on the lid.

"I'm pruny," Colette announced, looking down at her fingers as she entered in her bathrobe, wet hair piled atop her head, looking up and seeing Maggie. She'd expected that. She'd not expected Niobe. Or another girl.

"Merlin," she yelped, seeing a troupe in her bedroom.  "It's like I don't have a door." There was only a beat of silence before the actual and seemingly disassociated greeting came: "Hey, guys." Frowning, she nudged past the brown-haired one in order to reach her gown, unders, and shoes. As she did so, she listened to the bare-bones summary of Maggie's encounter with Tawse and shook her head; still made her angry.

With a practised dexterity that was mystifying to anyone who had not spent their entire school career in and out of lockerrooms, Colette quickly changed into her costume and looked at the mirror, squinting. "Well," she proclaimed, now deciding it was time to acknowledge the presence of her friendly (and foreign) intruders. Niobe was going as Niobe -- probably the most depressing mythological figure out there, but Niobe brought an element of eccentric femme fatale to it that reassured Colette some. Maggie was well on her way to looking like killer babe Atalanta. Hopefully she wouldn't set loose any angry boars at the party, since Colette was already bringing a pig and she'd hate to be unoriginal. Finally, her eyes settled on the girl running her hands over Maggie's hair.

She frowned slightly. It wasn't a big deal, of course, but that was usually Colette's thing -- doing Maggie up. Sure, she complained about it, but it was kind of fun. Colette didn't have sisters; just boys, and she hardly got to practise new looks on a different face. And Maggie had a new haircut . . .

"So . . . New Girl. I'm Colette. You are?"

As Niobe kept arranging ropey locks of hair, she listened in as Maggie and Jacoba gave each other the run-down.  Only once or twice did Niobe pipe in with extra trivia.

"Ex-Azzies as in Azkaban Prison."

And then, "Y'know. Ex-boyfriends."

When Jacoba revealed her costume, Niobe gasped in delight and smacked Jacoba on her rump.  "Devil! So poetic it hurts, love.  Nice one."

Niobe's idle interjections continued until she heard the shower go off.  It was a sound she hadn't noted until it left, and she turned towards the door to greet the left leg of the coven.  She was dour, but that was charming in Colette.  Behaving like she didn't love that her bedroom was the locus of social activity.

"Dahling," she said with a wink.  If she'd been polite, she'd have introduced Jacoba immediately.  But Jacoba's identity was too drippingly precious.  Niobe would savor the reveal as long as possible.

"Our new friend," Niobe provided.  "She's lovely and will be playing the part of Pandora this evening.  Jacoba, say hello.  This is Colette - she lives here.  Also, very lovely."

Sitting behind Maggie as she set to work on the woman's hair (armed with her finger for twirling and a small travel-sized bottle of spray from her bag), the glance from the woman towards Niobe spoke volumes.  What exactly it said, was less clear.  But between the two women, bits of information were slowly dribbling forth.  Azkaban prison?  They had their own prison?  The word called forth images of a small box in the middle of the woods with light-saber-like glowing bars - or other versions wizard-holding cells courtesy of Disney.

Her gaze lingered on Maggie in the mirror.  It was, of course, impossible to tell what 'in over my head' meant.  But, it did little to temper Jacoba's curiosity though something in the way Maggie's gaze dropped made it clear the other woman wasn't too comfortable about going into details.  Niobe, on the other hand, seemed much more willing.  The fourth woman that entered the room gave the impression of being put out but a careful glance between Niobe and Maggie revealed that neither of the two women seemed very concerned.  Any concern Jacoba might have had for committing a social blunder was quickly replaced by curiosity. 

"So, you dated a con?" Jacoba summed up in terms she understood, following Maggie's lead in glancing at the woman through the reflection.  "What did he do?"  Or, on a broader scale, what do wizards get locked up for?

She was pleased at the general costume approval and laughed at Niobe's particularly exuberant approval.  Equally amusing was Maggie's suggestion.  "I got an old cigar box, nothing fancy though," she admitted.  It wasn't much though the glitter she'd tossed on it last minute did help make it seem slightly less cigar-boxy.  "Yours might seem more exotic and fitting." 

Jacoba was about to return Colette's greeting but Niobe beat her to it.  "Yeah, like she said.  I'm just back in London and met Niobe a little bit ago.  She's introducing me to the social scene."  The wizarding social scene, mind you.  Who would have thought - if she'd known this was here, she might have considered returning to London years ago.

Maggie looked up when Colette announced her presence. “You’ve been in there for ages; of course you’re pruny,” Maggie said. “And you should know by now that your room isn’t really yours,” she teased. “Not with us nosy types around.” Another glance at Niobe confirmed this.

As the four women chatted and primped in the same room, this felt more like a sleepover than preparing for a night out. Maggie sat on the carpet with her legs curled underneath her, and she’d pulled over a floor pillow for Jacoba to sit on while she did her hair. 

She was content to let Niobe answer Jacoba’s other questions, since the list of ex-boyfriends ranging from ‘slightly odd’ to ‘psycho’ was really her territory. Maggie preferred the nicer, more normal types and had never been through the bad boys phase. Though, to be fair, she could easily count the number of boyfriends she’d had on one hand.

“I’ll look for the jewelry box once my hair decides to behave,” she smirked at Jacoba in the mirror. If Jacoba could make her stubborn locks curl, it was only fair to return the favor and find something for her costume.

“Colette? How’s the pig?” She asked once introductions had been made, expecting and half-hoping for another one of Colette’s rants to begin. Maggie raised her eyebrows at her, holding back an amused grin. She’d watched Colette fuss with the transfiguration spell for a few weeks, often making popcorn when it happened because it was just that entertaining. As a result of various attempts, the ottoman had rebelled and run away from Colette one day, shuffling all over the apartment and oinking as her roommate had chased after it. Maggie had been no help at all. She’d been laughing too hard.