Post by katya on Dec 16, 2011 17:18:49 GMT -8
October 28th, 2011
9:00 pm
9:00 pm
Katya poked her head inside the Great Hall and found that she had to stand on her tiptoes to see over the myriad of heads. Yes, she told herself, of course there are plenty of people here already. The dance had started an hour ago. She hadn't wanted to walk in with only a sparse number of people milling around, feeling awkward and eager to chat. She'd perhaps overdone the waiting just a little.
What she hadn't overdone was her costume, and she was beginning to regret it. As she pressed her way into the crowd, she couldn't help but notice that everyone seemed to have a better one. Among just the girls, there were wood nymphs and sparkling fairies and goddesses -- and she, of all things, was a ghost. Needless to say, she'd cheated; being a metamorphmagus meant that when it came to costumes, she could usually get away with little planning.
She'd recycled a white party dress she'd had for years, a pretty little thing that went to the knees and looked slightly vintage. She'd charmed the hem on some of the layers of net to billow slightly in slow motion. She wore no shoes. She'd spent an hour in front of a mirror, growing her hair out thick and wavy to her lower back and then once that was done, turning it (as well as her skin) paper white. She'd left her eyes the way they were, not wanting to look too creepy. Her hair was pulled back into the best half-up antique style she could manage, strands twisted here and there on the back of her head and tucked in with pearl-headed pins.
The best part was that, to save herself the trouble of purchasing new shoes, she'd gone barefoot and cast a weak cushioning charm on the bottom of her feet. The effect was as if she were floating along, one foot gliding up from the floor before the other one could touch down. The downside was that it was a slow and annoying way to walk, like trying to make one's way across a giant marshmallow. Her wand was tucked into the back of her dress' waist sash, and she was seriously considering removing the charm before long.
Once somewhere in the middle of the floor, among a few dancing couples and many groups of playful, laughing friends, she stopped and looked up to admire the decorations. A full moon and an overcast night had been enchanted onto the ceiling, and autumn leaves were falling constantly only to disappear just before hitting the heads of the people milling below. It was spectacular, and she had to smile. Having finally given in and read her father's letter, she'd been comforted by his reassurance and understanding; though it had also made her feel somewhat guilty for the accusations she'd implied. What mattered was that things were going to be okay.