[maidstone] perfect symmetry; that adolescent love {party thread: open}

APRIL 2004
7:22pm

cw: likely underage alcohol use in this thread & offshoot threads

Billie was nervous.

Excited! But nervous.

Mavis had dressed her, and she looked quite cute in the glitter butterfly clips and floral cardigan, even if the dress under it was a little too short for her to be entirely comfortable. She hadn’t felt so self conscious about the glittery eyeshadow because Mavis and Nola had both taken getting ready for this very seriously; she couldn’t feel overdressed when she blended in with those two. She hoped other people coming tonight put in effort, too, though; she didn’t really want to stand out.

The house had been set up for the party, too; all of the old, important stuff was upstairs in rooms that would be difficult to get into even for those over seventeen with wands, and the top two floors had been sectioned off, entirely. The house was unlocked, the bottom floor mostly empty aside from a table Mavis had populated with snacks and places to sit, and she and Nola had already gotten the old record player going; upbeat music was playing loud from the reception room.

Billie hovered by the window, glancing out at the large, grassy field that surrounded the house. The grass had grown long enough to ripple in the breeze, now, and it made Billie a little nostalgic. She hadn’t visited the greenhouse except to make sure it was properly locked, but she was sure it was wildly overgrown in there, far more than the flowerbeds and vines out the front of the house itself.

No one new had arrived in the past ten five that she’d lingered here, but she was sure they would soon. The blonde dragged herself away from the window to go and pluck a jammie dodger from its packet on the snack table. She took a delicate bite, catching the crumbs in her other hand, trying not to look like she was letting her nerves get the best of her.


If you can think of any way your character might have been invited to this party, feel free to post in here or start your own offshoot threads! Message me if you’re not sure/want to bounce ideas!
This is a miniplot as per this issue of The Daily Prophet.

((Arriving around 9pm))

Why the hell was he here again? he questioned as he walked in to see the huge house full of people, many of whom he didn't even know (how was that possible?). With Isaac right in front of him, he weaved his way through people, turning his shoulders as he passed by so he didn't bump anyone with their cups of what he presumed was alcohol. He honestly didn't understand it. Why were people his age abscessed with the idea of drinking a theoretically forbidden beverage just so that they could lose control of whatever brain power they had going on and then vomit all over themselves and/or others? No matter what logic he applied to it, it didn't make sense.

And yet, he took one of the cups Isaac gave him. Now he could make cynical comments about everyone AND himself in regards to peer pressure and the pathological need to fit in. Great.

He nodded a hello to @Soléy Trickett and tried not to touch his newly dyed blonde hair, trying to push out all the jokes Isaac cracked about the change. But he would be lying if he wasn't looking surreptitiously looking for a particular Gryffindor who had a penchant for sparkly things.

7:30pm

Killian was conviced he looked like a bloody court jester.

He wasn't, of course, but Nora had dressed him up "like you're going to a high school party in America," she had said, layering another jacket onto him unwillingly. She had said he looked like Corbin Bleu, like he was supposed to know who the hell thet was.

Could be worse though. She could have sent him out dressed like a rapper and brought Mum's wrath down on them both.

He had taken the bus to Mavis' house, she didn't actually live that far away, just over in Hampstead, and had dinner with her, her parents, her sister Esther (who he wasn't sure had forgiven him for dating Mavis), her brother Michael (the war hero) and his girlfriend (who had tried to ruffle his hair). Dinner had been nice enough, but Mavis was to be dropped off at six, and Killian wasn't invited to the girls getting ready and had no magical way to get to Maidstone.

So Killian spent about ten minutes getting the Dad Talk from Michael Corner, and just when he was certain Michael was going to threaten him with bodily harm, Michael started asking about his interests. There was a dent in the foil container Killian held now from gripping down too hard. Killian and Michael had nothing in common, but he did seem to enjoy talking about Killian's little pee-wee football league, and Killian found the aside on weather charms fascinating despite himself.

None of this changed the fact that when he was finally dropped off, Killian's macaroni and cheese was cold.

He took his time walking up the path, unsure of how to deal with this conundrum. There was just no way Billie's place had a microwave, so... did he light a fire? Did he chuck the casserole into the shrubbery?

When he finally opened the door, it was with a sheepish smile. "Hi," he said, with a embarrassed smile. "I brought pasta?"

approximately 7:25pm

The timer went off, and Aase padded into the kitchen to take her final batch of cookies out of the oven. The four girls, the snack table, and the music were ready – all that was missing was the rest of the attendees, and they’d be here any minute. Well, some of them would, at least… Aase hadn’t been to very many non-family house parties (really just one, counting today), but from what she’d heard people rarely showed up exactly on time.

Out of nervous habit, she smoothed her clothes while she waited for the cookies on the sheet to cool enough to be safely transferred onto a plate. Her skirt was much shorter than she usually went for – but the other girls had insisted it looked ‘uh-MAZE-ing’ as they were all getting ready together, so she supposed it would be alright. She was still self-conscious about it, though, feeling the need to pull the back of it down by the pockets every other minute. The shirt she’d chosen was wonderfully flowy and comfortable but, alas, nearly as long as her shorts: one could see only a few centimeters of denim below its hem.

Her chest felt a little tight with both excitement and nerves. For days leading up to the party, her initial excitement had quickly given way to worry. What if they got caught? Several of them held school positions, both current and former, and more would doubtless be coming. She was reluctant to disappoint her mum; though Aase knew her mum trusted her to not anything foolhardy, she hardly had control over others.
But in the past hour or so that she’d been preparing the last of her cookies, the nerves had again given way to excitement as her favorite hobby settled her mind. This was going to be a great night: a break from studying, time with friends, plenty of snacks… what more could she ask for?

She peeked down the hallway and spotted Billie gazing out the window, doubtless feeling the same mixed emotions. Ducking back into the kitchen, she checked to be sure one of the fresh cookies wouldn’t fall apart before putting a few on a napkin and making her way to the front of the house. Offering one to the blonde, she smiled through a mouthful herself and followed her friend’s line of sight, waiting for the telltale POP of someone Apparating to join them.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

They didn’t have to wait long – Killian turned up almost exactly at 7:30pm. Aase beamed and greeted him, accepting the pasta he’d brought and carrying it to an open spot on the table so he and Billie would be free to chat a minute if they liked.

7:12 PM

In retrospect, Barbara should have made sure she arrived before the other girls had; her mother liked Billie quite well (what a lovely, polite, seemly girl Barbara's friend Billie was, she said whenever she came up) but had never met the Gryffindors, and Barbara thought they had been rather overwhelming even without having been visible, talking loudly in the distance as she'd dragged Billie to reassure her mother that nothing untoward was going to happen tonight. Then -- finally -- Valerie MacClelland Gibson had taken her leave, and left Barbara to the mercy of her friends.

She had allowed herself, in celebration, to be cajoled into a high ponytail, but her efforts to roll her skirt up at the waist to shorten it a few inches had made the band feel awkward and thick, so she had resigned herself with great relief to being the most priggish person here. More priggish even than Billie, who had allowed herself to be cajoled into far worse than a high ponytail. Of course, Barbara hadn't voiced that, but she thought Billie had seen it in the set of her eyebrows anyway.

Mavis had taken aggressive charge of the snack table, and Barbara, as she wasn't making baked goods or making her face up or making really anything useful, was hanging by the end of the table taking less aggressive charge of the napkins, trying to fan them out as though they were at a nice dinner. It was such a big, classy house, and she felt rather sorry to be filling it up with popular music and pizza; it was the least she could do.