[st mungo's grand ball] ain't no rest for the wicked [open;]

Only days prior, in a moment of weakness, Melinda had sent her parents an owl to wish them a ‘delightful New Year’ after a particularly harrowing set of night shifts. Just as in the muggle world, where pediatrics wards filled to the brim around this time of year for particularly benign things like influenza – the magical world experienced the same influx, if not for slightly different reasons. After three straights nights of reinforcing to parents that toy wands are in fact not an excellent Christmas present and yes, absolutely, little Timmy will find an orifice to stick it into – combined with the unsettling amount of childbirths that seem to occur when you’re at full patient census – Melinda had nearly collapsed by the front door of her London flat. “Why on earth did I insist on being a Healer when I could’ve lived with my parents in the lap of luxury all these years?” She let out a disgruntled mumble and placed the tea kettle on the stove. With a quick glance at Bran, her owl, who gave a delighted hoot from the windowsill, beak dropping forward to reveal a cream envelope – she stepped forward to reveal the letter she dreaded – a response.

“Of course… of course they would respond. On this day no less.” Melinda had an inkling of what the letter might say. After all, she had rambled on for half a sheet of parchment about how she was so fond of this time of year because it reminded her of all the years prior that they attended the St. Mungo’s ball together. Well, that is – barring the past three, in which they had attended without her – citing her “studies” as an excuse for why she could not be in attendance rather than reveal that they weren’t exactly speaking to each other very often. Still, she knew how ‘embarrassing’ it must’ve been for her parents to have to reveal to others in attendance that their daughter was working at St. Mungo’s and living in a flat in London… single – rather than attending galas like all the other good socialites would have. She smirked at the imagery and quickly tore open the note.

Skimming through it once… twice… a third time, she tossed the letter behind her, nearly hitting Bran with the projectile. One angered hoot from the amber-colored owl and the whistling of the tea kettle shook her back into the present moment. “They dare suggest that I would be doing a disservice to the hospital by not attending?” She knew she was being a bit dramatic, her father’s response had merely suggested that she attend with them now that she was a Healer and thus perhaps had a bit of interest in the charity galas the hospital put on. The suggestion was thick with the implication that perhaps there would be a nice group of male Healers there, or even better, any males – of any kind. Still, she couldn’t deny it was getting a bit tiring to have to dodge her parents. She missed their attention and support. And with no siblings to share her grievances -- she spent the majority of her off days in stony silence. A little party never hurt, right?

Which is how, nearly twelve hours later, she found herself at the front entrance of the historic Brenhines Euraidd – dressed in a gown her parents had frantically sent for only hours prior. She had nearly stroked upon seeing it—or rather, the lack of material it seemed to possess from waist up. But she certainly didn’t have the resources, time, or finances to wear anything other than what they had sent to her (a fact of which she was keenly aware they knew) and thus, she would have to stiffen her upper lip and hope that none of the older attendees would look down on her too much for her choice. Melinda knew her two priorities – copious amounts of alcohol and… well, she hadn’t come up with a second priority yet, but having only one and it being alcohol related appeared pathetic at best. So, with her parents in tow, she gracefully broached the entrance of the ballroom, made small chatter with a variety of her parent’s acquaintances and then promptly excused herself to tend to her first priority – the bar. The two were so pleased that she had arrived and been photographed with them that they would most likely not bother her for a bit.

Broaching the edge of the bar, Melinda glanced around. It was a stunning affair of blacks and golds, elegant and sophisticated but somewhat understated at the same time. She was impressed that the head healers had planned nearly all of it themselves. She made a mental note to place her bets in the silent auction just outside the hall before it got too late – though the dinner with a Quidditch player seemed like an attractive option, she just couldn’t tear herself away from the idea of a free day off work – paid!

Lost in thought, she only came to when she realized the bartender had his eyebrow raised in her direction. “Pardon me, what’s the strongest mixed drink you can make…” she paused, realizing how ridiculous she sounded before adding, “uh, a friend of mine was curious to know.”

          Korrine Ollivander was dressed in an old classical black ball gown with gold embroidery  that she had tailored by Madam Malkin for the event. She took a moment to adjusted her matching shawl, gloves and checked her a small black feathered and golden ribbon fascinator was stilling sitting high on her head before took Garrieck Ollivander’s left arm. The couple walked up the majestic marble stairs of historic Brenhines Euraidd hotel where the door man opened the door for them. Once inside they lobby they nodded and exchange pleasantries with to a few of their acquaintances from previous St. Mongos fundraisers or Wizarding World Galas. “Everyone seems quite adorn this evening.” Korrine quietly remarked to her husband as they finally joined the que to check invitations forming inform of the entry to the Hotels West Wing.  The West wing was where Brenhines Euraidd hotel likely received it nickname Golden Queen. It contained event reception parlor, dining hall and ball room fit for royalty. Korrine had helped hosted an event here a few times.  But it was clear that this event took the grandeur of the st mungo's ball to a new leave.

         Gaining a glimpse of at the draping gold fabric, white orchids and oversized black feathers in ornate vases beyond the entry way. Korrine was impressed. Although Korrine would have love to be asked to help, this event was a vast improvement compared to previous years. Sharing the comment with her husband “Varya, did quite well… she must have…” Korrine’s started but fell short as they entered and the full scale of the decorations came into view. “Oh my.” This was be the most display of gold that Korrine has ever seen on one setting, and she had been to quite a few balls, and even a few royal events. Trying to find something positive, to say she continued “Well, this IS very grand Ball, likely the most Grand Ball St. Mongo has seen.” She exchanges a smile with her husband, who know her thoughts sometime better she knows her own.

          After a picture was taken of the Ollivanders by the photographer documenting the event for a social highlight section of a wizard newspaper the couple began to make their way through the socializing groups. They were quickly waved over to a near group, where after greeting and pleasantries were exchanged, Korrine found herself answering questions of her son, Grover’s marital status by an acquaintance of a less eustatic Ianthe Burke. Korrine noticed Garrick had been pulled away by a gentleman who wished to introduce others to the famous wandmaker, leaving Korrine to deal with the poor Melinda Burke’s would be match maker.

          “Unfortunately, my son was unable to attend tonight festivities, but I would love to introduce her around. Melinda was her name?" Korrine made a showed of glancing around and nod at the crowd, before returning the attention back to the fellow women. "There are plenty of young gentlemen required of a dance partner. Where is your daughter, Mrs. Burke?”

          Although the daughter seemed to have slipped away, after a short but frantic search by Mrs. Burke friend's keen eyes she was pointed out to Korrine. A chestnut color haired girl with a very stunning but quite revealing black dress, stood at the bar.  Upon seeing her, Korrine quickly proclaimed, “Oh, yes I do see her. Quite a beauty!” This comment seemed to butter up the somewhat dubious Mrs. Burke. Korrine excused herself to attend to her new charge, as the other women moved on to other social topics.

          Korrine heard the girl ask the bartender for the strongest dink. “I always prefer a strong one at the start of the evening, but I like them well mixed with plenty of juice. How are you doing dear?”
“I thought debutantes died out with my generation.” Korrine said with a smile before continuing, “It seems your parents are looking to find you an eligible bachelor. My mother and her friend did something similar to me, when I was your age. I got quite good at appearing social engaged with the occasional gentleman for their appeasement, while still sneaking in a substantial allotment of time relaxing, and watching the absurbity of the societies social engagements for my own enjoyment. Would you my dear, care for the wisdom of seasoned socialite?”

Melinda glanced to her left to find an attractive elderly woman she vaguely recognized speaking to her. At first, she couldn't quite place where she knew this woman from, but as she began speaking, it became increasingly clear. Korrine Ollivander. She had always admired the coupling of Garrick and Korrine - especially as Garrick (or more appropriately, "Mr. Ollivander") had both introduced her to her first wand and a glowing review of her future house, Ravenclaw - one that prior to speaking to him, she had been particularly nervous to be a part of. Running in social circles the way her parents did, it was considered appropriate, if not necessary, for her to know exactly whom she was speaking to - even if they did not know her. 'Know and respect your elders, recognize their faces, and treat their wisdom as word of bond' she had keenly recalled her father saying when she was attending her first socialite-esque event. She had been to nearly a hundred of these since then, but the words stuck like peanut butter to the roof of her mouth.

"Mrs. Ollivander, always so lovely to see you. I'm well." She motioned the bartender over, hearing Korrine's suggestion as she simultaneously placed an order. "May I have some dark rum paired with ginger beer - if available?" The bartender blinked and looked up to the left, trying to figure out the connection between the two liquids. Melinda abruptly interjected this thought in an attempt to assist him, "the muggles call the drink 'dark and stormy.'" Understanding her request with near immediacy, he hustled away to prepare and Melinda turned her attention back to Korrine. She nodded fervently as the elderly woman described her escapades in her youth, understanding at once that Mrs. Ollivander knew her struggles first hand.

"Wisdom from the wise is always appreciated," she paused, her drink arriving. Taking a quick sip, she began again. "I don't even quite consider myself a debutante really - I'm a Healer at St. Mungo's - and I've worked for years to attain that goal for myself. Yet, it's all for naught in the eyes of my parents if I don't find a man to share my youth with." Taking another sip, she continued, keeping her face light and devoid of showing any negative emotion; lest her parents see her from afar and think her to be talking of anything other than pleasantries. "I do rather enjoy watching others at these events - you are right, the absurdity of some of these engagements, and those that attend them, are really quite significant."

She shifted to her left ever so slightly to glance around at the magnificent ballroom before her. Directly in front of her, girls a few years younger than her coyly flirted with men of equal age, careful to not show too much outward interest. Older heiresses and those with similar financial backgrounds mingled lazily in the background, watching their husbands mingle with a dull expression in their eyes. And still, others, like Melinda's parents, enthusiastically met up with old friends, unaware that others in this environment were bored by such trivial events. To her parents, events like these were wonderful opportunities to chat with friends, business partners, and potential in-laws and suitors for Melinda. What was not to love?!

"Of course, if you ask my darling parents," she let out the slightest of smirks, careful not to appear bitter or sarcastic, "these events are the absolutely perfect time for me to meet such a man. One of character and strength, with the right occupation, of course." She turned back to her drink, clasping the glass in her right hand gently and lightly swirling the top with a finger. "They say your parents know best when it comes to match making…" she paused, removing her finger from the glass to take a sip, "I'd like to know who they exactly are. I'd like to speak with them about their research methods." She cracked a genuine smile, lifting her hazel eyes to meet Korrine's. She was placing her trust in this woman to even dare say the last few words she had uttered out loud at a social event. But she hadn't quite come to this event willingly, and she certainly couldn't play the part of the darling daughter all night. Even debutantes need a break.

          Korrine smiled widened as the lovely girl not only recognized her, but politely greeted her in return. The young girls showed that the disciplines of manners did not fully escape the grasp of the next generation. Korrine was even more pleased that Melinda seem receptive to her offer. By Merlin’s beard, Korrine own daughter would have rolled her eyes.

           Korrine curiously examined Miss Burke sipping her drink. She had been intriguing by the ingredients that Miss Burke listed. Ginger had increasingly become a part of Korrine diet as she aged. Yet with the name “Dark and Stormy,” one would assume a rain storm to appear over the consuming Wizards head, but Miss Burke seem to suffer no ill effect form the drink, “A muggle drink you say?” she asked raising her finger to the Wizard bartender, “Another, for me, please. Dark and Stormy, the ginger-rum. Thank you.”

Korrine had learn a while ago, alliances is more often then not forged over a mutual beverage.

           “Oh Miss. Burke, a healer at St. Mungo! How wonderful. My mother’s side, the Hickey’s were all healers you know. One that walks the healer path needs strong will, tireless body and even sturdier stomach.” Korrine said as if reciting a mantra, but then continued in a whispered confection. “Unfortunately, the sturdy stomach was what I lacked.” Korrine thanked the bartender as she received the muggle ginger-rum concoction. She took a second to examine it, holding it up, and noting the gradient change before she took a tentative sip. Tasting that it was pleasant enough, she continued to explain, “My bodies reaction to a few cases of Splinching, Dragon Poxs and Spattergroit, forced me to admit that I was not cut out for the medical field...” I touch of regret caused a light frown on Korrine’s face before she waved her hand and shoeing the memories as if they were pesky pixies. “Instead I helped my mother with events much like this,..”  Korrine motioned around to the Balls growing crowd. “Well, maybe with a slight less gold.” The shear amount of reflective surfaces seemed a little too extreme in Korrine taste and she eyed Miss. Burke’s reaction to the screen around the room. Yet in examining the young witch, Korrine became distracted by her dress, which would have not even passed as lingerie during her day. Although she never considered herself elderly, still the older witch wondered if the wizarding world had changed to much in the last few decades, and left her behind. Maybe.

          Korrine was about to ask Miss. Burke what she thought about the décor when the young girl spoke first. Korrine took another drink of the strange muggle concoction and let the Miss. Burke quietly and respectfully vent. Although the young witch smiled, there was a strain around her eyes which hinted at the frustration that lies just below the surface. One that Korrine could defiantly relate to.

           “Well, I am sorry to tell you, my dear that time has not change much. My mother had introduced me to every and any eligible, respectable wizard who was rumored to have a pile of Galleons in their Gringott’s vault or a surname was listed on the Sacred Twenty-Eight.” She stopped to take another sip, and noticed it has started to warm her belly. It was quite nice she might have Oli make a few at the next Women’s Institute meeting. She noted before continuing, “I suppose, wanting to see to it, that your children are happily married and starting their own families without financial concerns is what every wizard parent is guilty of. My self-included. But this historically means of circuiting the lass, securing the arrangement, unfortunately has been meet with varying success.”

          “Somehow, I faced and learned to embrace my role. I appeared on the arm of the occasional marriageable candidate, but still kept a look out for what really interested me. Someone that stimulate and ignite passion within my mind.” After a moment of a pause, Korrine clarified. “Someone with similar interest.”