BlossomBall: Student Edition PV Closed

To say that Phaedra's very first school ball was a complete disappointment would be an understatement. To start, her date was a sweet boy, really he was, but the awkwardness between them the entire night was palpable and their conversations short-lived. She tried to pry words out of the Gryffindor but he seemed dead set against it as if he were hiding something from her.

...Then there was the fire. Some Slytherin halfwit had decided to cast spells at tables over something stupid, and although her Head of House was quick to douse the tabletop flames, it somehow still managed to spread and alight nearby students who she then needed to escort to the hospital wing. She hadn't even gotten a chance to dance, all because of the York boy. Really, how embarrassing for an eleven-year-old to throw a tantrum! Her family would have had absolutely none of it, had he been one of theirs.

Initially, Phaedra thought she didn't have the patience to deal with another fire incident, nor to waste her sweet time sitting bored out of her mind trying to figure out why her date wouldn't talk to her. After receiving an invite by owl, she read over the list of those who were to attend - groaning at the name of one Hufflepuff girl in particular - but ultimately decided that there was nothing to fear. This time, the list was made up of mostly exceptional people; no troublemakers from what she could see. 

Phaedra sent a reply at once, now excited that her once ruined night could be redeemed... though she would have to sit out on the whole date thing for this round.

The night of, the Ravenclaw prefect was wearing a long, pale pink gown made of silk, with flowers designed into it. It wasn't nearly as big as the one she wore for the official Blossomfest ball nor as bright in its colours. Still, she preferred it over the last; it was far less itchy and incredibly elegant yet simple. This new ball was exclusive, and Phaedra wanted to look her very best.

Her short heels clicking as she went down a flight of stairs, Phaedra made her way into the large corridor that held the ballroom. She had almost walked past right into the entrance without checking in until the croaked voice of a grey house elf spoke out to her.

"Name," said the male house-elf unenthusiastically, his long nose just barely scraping against the parchment he was so attentive to. 

"Oh... my apologies," she muttered after glancing down at the creature, the apology stemmed from her own carelessness. She took a few steps towards him to better address him. "Stavrou, Phaedra."

Her name near the top of the list, there was no time wasted as he immediately used his quill to scratch her off. No further words were exchanged between them as the house-elf stretched out a long arm to point into the ballroom, giving consent for Phaedra to proceed. Grabbing hold of the smooth fabric of her dress, she slightly held up the hem to avoid stepping on it and turned away from the elf to stroll past the large wooden doors.

Now inside, Phaedra took in the decor (or lack thereof) of the spacious room. What was remarkable about the last ball's decorations most certainly did not carry over for this one, but the cheaply made pink and purple banners and weeds growing in glasses of water surprisingly had a certain charm to it. Phaedra appreciated the thought and care that went into the project, no matter how wilted the flowers. She considered organizing such a thing to be an impressive feat for people their age and would have to remember to praise the hosts later.

In the middle of the room were two redheads, the taller one a stranger and the excited one an acquaintance who she met by chance during a fearsome nightly patrol. Phaedra wanted nothing more than to sit at a table and wait for people she somewhat knew, like a roommate or two or even Dymphna Teague, but she was raised to believe that connections were everything and what would these two purebloods think if she had just walked past and ignored them?

The back of her gown flowing behind her as she walked, she made her way to the pair. "Hello, Eris," said the raven-haired girl as she stared, intrigued and a little stunned by the other's dress. Eris' dress was much too short for Phaedra's own modest standards, but Phaedra could admit that she still found the colours quite lovely and thought that they went well with the red of her hair. "You look really nice tonight," was what she settled on, lamely.

She acknowledged the other girl as well with a polite smile. "I'm afraid we haven't had a chance to properly meet before... I'm Phaedra Stavrou. It's Rhea Bishop, correct? Thank you both for arranging this."

The disaster of the previous event Amadea had attended was still fresh in her mind. It hadn't even been that bad, but the fire had been what really got to her. If only that Slytherin had the slightest bit of sense and had thrown his temper tantrum somewhere else. Thanks to him, she was now even more petrified of fire and large group events. Given, she had always been terrified of those, so what was new? 

She had considered wearing the same dress to the second Blossom Ball, but had decided against it. For some reason she felt as though if she brought anything from that horrible night, it was bound to repeat itself. So, she changed up her outfit entirely, even adding a few accessories here and there. She felt overdressed, but wasn't used to wearing all of the fancy things she had on. She knew a lot of the girls would probably be even more fancily dressed. Amadea's style was simple; she didn't like all of the extra frills and fabric, which was why she had decided to wear a simple dress with a nice beaded pattern on it. Wearing earrings and nail polish was a step up for her. She hoped it would look okay. 

With no one in the near vicinity, she allowed herself to sigh out loud. To be honest, she wasn't sure why she was here. She recognized a few names on the list of invites, but most were people she had never talked to before or never seen in her entire life. Oh joy, she thought. Another event where I get to sit awkwardly at a table and watch everyone else have fun. She tried to think more positively, but it proved difficult after her experiences with other group events. She really hoped tonight was going to be an improvement. The guest list was relatively small, the people were hopefully trustworthy, and she knew one of the organizers. That was reassuring. For the second time, she had no date for the ball, but this time she didn't mind as much. She would be among some of her friends and that wasn't going to be an awful thing. She just hoped some of them were already there. 

Amadea could hear her heels clicking on the ground as she neared the entrance to the ballroom. It was overshadowed by the light music wafting out into the hall. Already, Amadea was impressed. She knew the girls had worked hard to make this night perfect, and for both their sake and hers, she hoped it would be perfect. 

A house elf stood outside of the doors, croaking for her name. Started, Amadea fumbled around in her brain before finally remembering what to say. "Oh, uh, Amadea," she said. "Amadea Campbell." She cringed. She was so nervous she couldn't even talk to a house elf. That wasn't a good sign. Hopefully her nerves would calm down once she got inside. The house elf checked off her name and gestured for her to go inside. 

Smoothing down the fabric of her mint colored dress, Amadea hesitantly stepped into the room. There were pink and purple decorations everywhere, and while they lacked the sophistication and elegance of the previous Blossom Ball decorations, there was something about the simplicity of them that made them almost just as beautiful. 

There were three other girls standing in the middle of the room. Amadea recognized Rhea, but not the other two. They were all wearing pink dresses and Amadea had a quick flash of panic run through her as she wondered if she had missed the pink memo. She had thought the invitation had just said "black tie attire" but she could have misread it. There was only one way to find out.

She walked over to the girls who seemed to still be doing introductions. She joined them, smiling. "Hi Rhea," she said to her redheaded friend. "You look great!" Turning to the two other girls who she did not recognize, she introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Amadea," she said. "Pleasure to meet you." She rubbed her hands together, a nervous habit of hers. While waiting for them to respond, she let out a short laugh and asked, "So did I miss the pink memo or something?" 

[FONT=Palatino Linotype]Mentions: Charles York, Max Avery, Rhea Bishop, Anatole Evans.
Interacts with: Eris Fawley, Rhea Bishop, Phaedra Stravou, Amadea Campbell [/FONT]

[FONT=Palatino Linotype] Alright, try two! Couldn't be that bad, right? Certainly better than tables bein set on fire, children being soaked by York and a vinch's water spell.

Right?

Rosie made her way into the ballroom, smiling a little bit. She felt kinda special since she got an invite with specifically her name on it. Made her feel important. Is it how pure-bloods felt at their fancy balls and parties back in London? Seemed like it. But Rosie didn't feel like a pure blood, she didn't want to feel like one. She was a muggle blood, a mud blood. Despite that, she knew she was better than Charles the Pureblood Cultist, or Max Avery who had previously made her upset with how he brought muggle bloods down. Though, it had been a while since her and Max talked, and everytime she came into view, he'd ignore her. It was odd. She must've said something. Rosie just didn't know what.

The young girl refused any help for her ball getup, and put matters into her own hands. Rosie knew she had a dress, and luckily she managed to find one. It was simple, and perfect for her. The other gown was gorgeous no doubt, but it was too much. Besides, the fact someone was offering to make her look pretty instead of doing it herself bothered her. Her dress was undoubtedly simple, but that's how Rosie liked it. Besides, it was gold. Gold make her feel cool. Gold, in general was cool. Instead of pulling her hair back into a tight ponytail with braids, she let her curly hair fall down her shoulders. She felt natural in a way, herself. When Rosie was in the ball for the first time, she felt like some kind of doll. She loved Rhea ton death, but she had ignored all of her advice for dressing up for the second time. This was Rosie's problem.

Speaking of problems, she still didn't have a date.

It wasn't the biggest deal in the world, but it was still sort of a bummer. It almost seemed a bit unfair, but that wasn't the only part of the ball, right? It was too have fun with your friends, whoever they may be, and not be set on fire. But a little part of her wished she could've asked Anatole in person, so she wouldn't have to face being ignored. The thought made her heart sting. Get over it. Anyways.

Finally, Rosie made it into the ballroom, spotting her friends and sporting a big grin. As usual, they looked gorgeous and perfect, Rosie was almost jealous. Her eyes fell on the hostesses of the ballroom and she skipped over in her ballad slippers, smiling. She made her way to Eris, Rhea, Phae, and Amadea. "Hey guys, this looks super cool, yeah?" [/FONT]

If you have a chance to eat, take it. It may be your last.
-Grandfather

Kaegen wasn't sure what a black tie event was, but he did at least have an idea. It meant you were supposed to have a black tie. You tied things with rope, didn't you? Therefore, the logical conclusion was that you were supposed to bring a black rope. He didn't have black rope on hand, but he had normal rope and some poor student's inkwell. Combine the two and you get a slightly damp black rope. He lightly tossed it at the shriveled old man by the door in way of greeting.

The old man calmly snapped his fingers, causing the dripping inky rope to freeze midair. The small shriveled figure gently placed it on the ground with whatever bizarre magic hie was using and then looked from the list to Kaegen and back, obviously not about to let the boy into the ball in the state he was in.

The young ravenclaw boy wasn't even sure why he was going to attend the ball. He had a massive bruise on his stomach and chest area from when he was practicing his mid-air direction changes. It hurt a lot, but in the end it was going to be worth it. He had gotten a lot better, and the bruising wasn't too bad. It just made the whole front of him really tender. That wasn't going to get in the way of whatever he was going to be doing.

He had showed up because Eris had invited him. If the little girl ordered him into a dress, Kaegen would most likely comply. In his eyes, she was stronger. She was smarter and more powerful. But most importantly, she was a friend. A close friend, the only person he viewed as his friend. His allegiance was to her. He would accompany her to balls or battle, snack bars or demonic death witch fights.

Kaegen's face looked inhumanly pale, piercing eyes rimmed by dark circles. His scarf was neat and looked clean, which was more than could be said for the rest of him. He had not, apparently, changed clothes at all since the last ball. There was a brand-new rip in the robe, but otherwise his costume was unchanged.

Kaegen peered over the old man's clipboard and tapped his name, which the shriveled man scratched out with a quill, motioning Kaegen to enter the ballroom. The first thing he noticed was that the ballroom looked a lot nicer. No overly bright lights and weird sparkling everything. Just homemade decorations. Sure there were a lot of sparkly shining things spread about, but it wasn't quite as bad. And there was still food.

He moved smoothly across the ballroom, ignoring the four people already there. They were chatting amidst themselves, and he wasn't about to join in. The food was much more interesting to him, his stomach complaining about its lack of sustenance. He was going to skip out on dancing. It seemed like a waste of time. What wasn't a waste of time was the food bar.

To say the first ball had been an ungodly disaster would be an understatement. Even at some of the most dramatic dinner parties he'd went to, Max had never seen such a debacle for a reason that was antithetical to its reaction. You wanted to be a pure-blood and look at those beneath you? Fine, but don't give the entirety of the bloodlines a bad name because a little girl pissed you off. He'd been known to lose his temper, sure, but in a place that public you had a duty to grin and bear whatever snide little comments were thrown your way. So yes, naturally, a screaming child and a bout of flames had almost turned him off school balls completely. Would've, probably, if he hadn't received an invite to a new one from Eris.

This time there was no miscommunication - they were to meet at the ball and there'd be no sitting around waiting for something that would never happen. He resolved that this was going to be genuine fun, and for one night he would forget all of his worries and dance with some of his good friends. Leave the conflict at the door; bring your best self. When he reached the outside of the door he even gave the house elf ticking off names a brief smile, waiting patiently after offering a soft "Avery, Max."

After being waved through, he was pleasantly surprised at the amount of decorations his friends had put up around the room. It wasn't opulent or fantastical, but you could tell that the ones behind it had worked hard to make it look as incredible as it did. An emotion he wasn't quite used to made his chest feel warm, and smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Pride. He was proud that the girls had put together something so nice for everyone, and despite an exterior that wasn't always the warmest, he'd do his damnest to make sure this went well.

Even if that meant he had to deal with people like Rosie Parker. He caught a glimpse of her over talking in a rapidly growing group of girls and quickly looked away like the mere thought of her would draw attention. He could still remember what he'd said the last time he'd seen her, and now it felt embarrassingly vulgar. He'd help her with her darkness? Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was a mudblood and if anyone had heard that then they'd get the wrong idea. He was already in hot water hanging out with Aubren and trying to keep a lid on that one - if people thought he pitied Rosie as well then his reputation would go down the toilet.

He really should go over to greet Eris and Rhea, thank them for this lovely event and properly greet Eris as his dancing partner, but there were too many people there already and it would be too obvious if he yet again completely ignored Rosie. Unfortunately, Phaedra was also speaking with the lot of them so he couldn't talk to her either. Oh well; later tonight he'd have to catch up with her. At least now she didn't have that awkward, gawky boy with her.

To pass the time until he could converse with one of them, he decided to go to the snack bar. For some reason, his stomach had been feeling like a black hole these past few months; he ate and ate and ate but it never filled him up. It was a wonder he didn't get extremely fat with the almost disgusting amount of food he had to consume to give him a few brief hours of comfort. It may be giving him more height but he'd accept being shorter if only he stopped feeling constantly hungry.

Focused entirely on the food, he almost didn't notice a familiar Ravenclaw until he'd stuffed his face with sweetmeats. He nearly choked on a pastry, his eyes widening as he took in the boy he'd first seen on the back of the Hippogriff. His knee-jerk reaction to this kid or that other Hufflepuff boy who'd been on the rope was an immediate and concerning feeling of dread, one which made him wonder if he should leave or risk fate cursing them again. Managing to swallow, he decided to face his fears as best he could and offered Kaegen a slight nod. "Good food here," he remarked as casually as possible, but then said nothing else because he wasn't about to tempt fate any more.

Having never been to any social event, let alone a dance, Dinah was rather put out when she had received the invitation to the private Blossom Ball. It was a private student party and someone had actually taken the time to invite Dinah. For the first ten minutes she had been sure it had been sent to the wrong person. She had furiously attempted to reattach the letter to the owl in order to get the invitation to the right person but the owl shook her off and flew away (seeming rather annoyed with her behaviour). 
Upon opening the invitation and seeing her name written, asking her to attend the ball Dinah had been struck with worry. 
What would she wear? Who would she speak to? What if it was all just a big joke? What if’s raced round her head, each outrunning the other till she made a final decision. 

She would go, even if it was just for a few minutes at least she could say she did it. 

With the intention of attending the first Blossom Ball, Dinah had already had a dress sent to her straight from Madam Malkins. Her plans had been scuppered however by a sudden attack of anxiety that had kept Dinah trapped in her dorm room the whole night. 
In a way she was almost thankful. She’d heard the story of the commotion that had taken place at the last ball and knew she was a lot safer up in her dorm. 

This time she was determined to make it downstairs. With it being a private party she hoped this meant there would be less...fire. 

She slipped the maroon fabric over her head and pulled the dress down. Was it too fancy? Was it too simple? 

Ignoring the torrent of questions she was asking herself, she allowed her hair to hang down for once and placed the black butterfly clip on her bedside table. 


No going back now, she thought as she left the common room and heard the portrait swing shut behind her. 
In her nervous haste, Dinah had gotten down to the ballroom in around three minutes. She paused outside the doors, reading the banner that hung over it. It clearly declared it a private party, causing Dinah’s heart to skip a beat. She reminded herself that she did have an invitation, that she was wanted here. 

Stood by the door looking thoroughly miserable was one of the Hogwarts house elves. He stood holding a piece of parchment and a quill and was eyeing Dinah warily. 

She approached him with caution, “Uh...hi, I’m here for the ball?”

The elf looked her up and down a moment. Dinah suddenly felt very conscious about her choice of dress. 

“Name?” 

“Dinah Dragensail.”

The elf narrowed his large eyes as he read through the names and then, much to Dinahs relief, scratched a line through the name at the bottom of the list. He stood aside, allowing her to enter the ballroom. 

Dinah took a breath and gathered her dress in her hands so as not to fall over it. That was the last thing she needed. 

The room itself looked rather amazing in Dinahs opinion. The two hosts had obviously gone to a lot of effort to make this thing successful. Handmade decorations were hung around the room and the tables were embellished with some kind of plant. The delicate pink and purples gave such a happy, summery vibe that it automatically put a little smile on Dinahs face. 

Now came the tricky bit, the socialising. 
Stood in the center of the room was a large group of people, all dressed beautifully and chatting away to each other. 
Dinah tried to see the faces but couldn’t tell properly who was who. She was certain she recognised a couple of people but she wondered if she’d really spoken to them enough to go over and say hello. The majority of them she had seen around the castle but never actually spoken to. 

Maybe I’m not supposed to be here, she worried. 

She hovered by the door for a few moments longer before scolding herself. She’d promised herself she would at least try so with just a hint of reluctance, Dinah slowly began making her way to the middle of the room. 

The young Bishop was never one for twiddling her thumbs when she got bored, or when a difficult situation presented itself. No, instead, she faced it head-on and solved it. And if she couldn't solve it, then she'd try again. Again and again, until she did. It was something that she, as a Bishop, had a quote she lived by (among many others):




All in all, Rhea was pretty satisfied with her BlossomBall look.

Slowly, the Ballroom started to fill up with the guests she'd invited. Among the first to arrive was the Ravenclaw prefect Phaedra Stavrou, who she'd never directly met before, only heard of via Eris. The prefect walked up to them and Rhea smiled when she confirmed who she was. She was, as well, wearing a beautiful long pink dress. Simple, yet elegant.

"Yes, I'm Rhea Bishop," Rhea said, and nodded her head politely when Phaedra thanked them for arranging the event. "No problem, of course! We just wanted a time to enjoy a party without any fire fiascos... and we wanted to invite a few of those who didn't have a chance to make it to the original!"

Hoping that cleared any questions up, Rhea smiled when her redhead Hufflepuff friend walked in. Despite the odd circumstances they'd met under, the two had managed to solidify their friendship into one that was of strong grounds. She took a look at what Amadea was wearing and mentally commended her choice of colour; mint was always a pretty colour, at least in Rhea's eyes, and Amadea seemed to pull it off flawlessly. Laughing with the redhead when she asked if she'd missed the 'pink memo,' Rhea shook her head. "Don't worry about it, haha, it was just a coincidence! Me and Eris wanted to match 'cause we were the hosts, and Phaedra showed up in a pink dress too! Nothing planned. But, I love the colour of your dress. Mint is such a pretty colour, if I'm being completely honest." Amadea had chosen to add some accessories as well, and her hairdo was one that Rhea absolutely adored - there was a large clip in the back holding strands of hair back, much like her own.

The next person to enter was Rosie Parker, a close friend of Rhea's. Smiling, Rhea loved the simple look Rosie had found for herself. Although she'd tried to have Rosie dress up for this ball as well, the younger Hufflepuff had refused. Understandable, seeing as not everyone could love dressing up as much as Rhea did. Was it a pureblood thing? Not necessarily; Rhea knew plenty of purebloods who did not like to dress up, instead settling on wearing converse and the likes. Besides, Rosie had dressed up enough for this event - and she looked positively stunning in her gold dress. In Rhea's eyes, she looked more like Rosie than she had at the BlossomBall. Smiling at the curly haired girl as she got closer, Rhea's eyes twinkled. "I hope it looks cool," Rhea joked, "We put a crap ton--excuse my language--of work into this thing! Just to make it an amazing and perfect surprise for all of you."

Rhea certainly hoped the guests would like the decor. There was so much work, so much time put into this, it would really be a waste if no one ended up showing up. However, Rhea's worries were dispelled the moment Phaedra walked through that door, and more people followed after. There was no reason for people to say no... right?

As of now, Rhea hadn't gotten a no for an answer back. But, some of the owls were still flying (due to Rhea's lack of time management, dang it Rhea) and not everyone had answered back. Rhea hoped everyone would make it, but she knew that not everyone could.

Some other boy, who looked almost dead, entered the ballroom in drabby looking clothes that even had... wait, was that a rope?! A rope that was leaving a dark trail behind it as he dragged it across the ground. Rhea's eyes widened and she almost jumped to go stop him but she was refrained by another person entering the ballroom. This one was Kalani Anderson, who Rhea had invited in a spur of the moment decision. Why not, right? Rhea had met the raven-haired girl briefly during breakfast that one faithful day; although Kalani couldn't hear, Rhea was enraptured by the air of energy that she exuded. It was a refreshing change compared to her family. The girl was wearing an airy red dress, one that Rhea felt captured the essence of her personality. Her hair was done in a messy bun kind of do, but it was gradually coming undone.

As Kalani walked closer, she did a motion with her hand that resembled a wave. Was it a wave, or was it that language that she'd heard about... what was it... Rhea couldn't remember, but what she could recall was that there was a language that people who were deaf sometimes used. Smiling brightly at the short haired girl, Rhea waved back. Guessing that she wouldn't know any of the girls standing around her, Rhea decided there was no harm in introducing everyone. "Guys, this is Kalani," she said brightly to the people surrounding her, then turned to Kalani and faced her straight on. Making sure that the girl could see her lips clearly, Rhea began to talk, slowly and clearly, "Kalani... this is Eris Fawley..." the redhead pointed to each girl in turn as she introduced them, "Phaedra Stavrou... Amadea Campbell... and Rosie Parker." Tilting her head, Rhea cast a look at the girl before her. "Need... me... to... repeat?"

Before the girl could reply, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a wobbly vase. Casting a sorry look at Kalani and switching her glance to the vase, Rhea ran to the table and adjusted the vase. As she did, she glimpsed that three others had managed to come into the ballroom during her conversation with the girls who were clustered around. Nodding to the aformentioned girls and gesturing that she would go and welcome the people who'd come, so Eris wouldn't have to do it, Rhea set off to the food table, where the boy with the rope was standing. Readying herself to tell him off, Rhea noticed just how sad he looked. And he seemed a bit too preoccupied with talking to someone else, a certain brunette Gryffindor. Max Avery, who had preferred not to talk to the cluster of girls and instead go eat. Was food all boys cared about? Rhea sighed dramatically.

Casting a small smile at Max in welcoming, Rhea walked closer and grabbed a red macaroon from the platter. She bit into it and grinned at the familiar test before turning her attention at the three who had gathered around the food table. She knew Max, obviously, and the boy who had brought in the rope (and who, as usual, was wearing a scarf... was there a reason for that? Rhea would have to find out later, after she'd made all her rounds and welcomed everyone), but the third, a girl, she didn't know. Well, it didn't matter all too much; sure, it was a private party, but she'd probably come as someone's plus one. She was wearing a flowery dress; long sleeved and simple, the dark blue of the dress having a nice contrast to the bright flowers.

Deciding to introduce herself to the girl, (whose name she managed to catch was Cecilia Moore, an unfamiliar surname), Rhea shot a smile in their direction. She remembered the boy's first name, Kaegan, but not his last. Oh well, she'd have to ask Eris later on - she was the one who invited him, if Rhea was to guess. "I'm Rhea Bishop, me and Eris," she pointed at Eris, or at least tried to, "were the ones who planned this thing. Now I gotta go say hi to the rest of the people, but erm, enjoy your time! Oh and Max," here, she cast a look at Max pointedly and smirked, "you better dance with Eris when the party actually starts, alright?" The music that was now playing was some random piano music her parents had sent her, but if she or anyone found something else that was upbeat, she would work her magic and the music would play.

Bowing and taking a fake fedora off her head, Rhea bid her adieu and walked backwards, spotting yet another girl who had walked in. She seemed lost and nervous, as if unsure of where to go. But, her clothes showed that she understood just the extent of the splendor of this event - a red, simple strapless dress, with silver patterns on the top part. Tilting her head, Rhea watched as the girl came to stand in the middle of the room, and decided to go up to her. Rhea didn't think they'd met before, and she was always up for meeting new people - after all, it was what she had to do all throughout her childhood. Walking up to the girl, Rhea felt her lips stretch into a smile yet again.

"Hey, I'm Rhea Bishop - one of the hostesses of the party? Who are you?" as the young redhead spoke, she began to lead the both of them back to the cluster of the girls who had managed to keep themselves busy while she was off welcoming everyone else who had come in, but not walked up to them. As she made her way there, she decided to introduce everyone already there, pointing them out based on the colours of their dresses and if their attire was the same colour, their hair. Phaedra, Amadea, Rosie, Kalani, and Eris - the names spilled out of Rhea's mouth as she pointed them out, and hoped that the girl would catch their names. If not, they could just re-introduce themselves later.

Soon, she found herself standing back next to Eris once more. Everyone had been welcomed, and Rhea felt her duty as one of the hostesses was complete. She was tired from having to walk all around the ballroom - yes, she was a Quidditch player, but that didn't mean she wasn't lazy, or that she was athletic. Making sure her hairdo was still intact, and fixing her hand jewelry, Rhea also smoothed out parts of her dress. She fixed the sleeves and only then did she make her presence known once more. "Bloody hell, that was so much more work than it had to be," she joked, and waved the girl to come closer, gesturing for her to introduce herself.

As the conversations and introductions ensued, an owl flew into the room from an open window. Tied to its leg it carried a letter; it flew to Rhea, making a beeline for both herself and Eris. With a confused look on her face, Rhea untied the letter with experienced precision and tore it open, reading its contents. As she did, she felt her heart slowly... start to just hurt. She felt Eris read it over her shoulder as well, and Rhea then turned to her friend with a heartbroken expression on her face. For there, written clearly on the sheet of parchment, was written that Dorian Gray would not be attending.

Did he not want to come to the ball? Did he not like Rhea, or Eris? Of course he liked Eris; they were partners in crime, were they not? Well then, it must be he didn't like Rhea. The feeling of being disliked was foreign to the young Bishop; never before had she cared what people thought of her. This feeling made her weak; unlike herself. She didn't like it. What was happening to her?

Feeling her face start to scrunch up and the corners of her eyes start to get wet, Rhea closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She wiped her eyes inconspicuously, so as to not look like she was crying - thank goodness she had chosen not to wear any makeup, although what eleven year old would? - and forced a bright smile on her face. Now was not the time for grieving, no. Now was the time to celebrate spring, and to mark the beginning of a new, fresher, warmer, season.

After allowing herself a few moments of feeling bad for herself, Rhea calmed herself down. Just like a quote once said (albeit, she didn't know who the person was, but it was a quote her father liked to drill into her brain: