(1939-01-02) Black's Bash
Details for Black's Bash
Summary: It's the highly anticipated student party of the year. There's dancing, and drinking. A lot of drinking. A case of mistaken identity, gate crashers, and the typical level of sophistication one might expect out of teens with booze.
Date: 1939-01-02 (Please correct this if the proper date was meant to be Christmas. I've been seeing conflicting dates in various logs, and so stuck with the physical OOC world date.)
Location: Black Family Townhouse
Related: Some of the Fall Out from the party

All the curtains of the London townhouse had been drawn tight, making for a very uninviting facade. As soon as the door opened it was a different matter. Music expanded in a crashingly loud wave of the most popular wizard tunes of the day, the kind that old and grumpy wizards always denounced as the most horrible noise ever. There were decorations, Christmasy without being too gaudy, all of which stood in stark contrast to the general somber and old fashioned wizardly aristocrats' dcor of the richly appointed home. Every entry was passed a glass of champagne, courtesy of an out of sight house elf, before their outer robes were like whisked away by the same.

A far too self important livingroom was transformed into a party zone, with a bar set up for various drinks, as well as a big punch bowl, and an area cleared out for dancing, a lounging area. Tehre were more rooms looking like they were meant for smaller groups to split off as needed. Though the light in general was dim, the air had been enchanted with little floating specks of light that provided a constantly shifting multi-coloured landscape.

The large livingroom fire flares a sudden green, surely not for the last time that night, and after a moment, out step Tony Row…. actually, lets me honest, out steps Morgana, accompanied by Tony.

Alphard was outfitted in his usual stylish way, and that was probably where a significant part of his parents' christmas budget had gone. Too expensive clothes for their too spoiled son. A smart dark suit, some polished shoes, and some kind of hat thing that kept subtly changing colour. It was tipped slightly crooked atop of his head, because Alphard was cool like that.

"Rashley! Rowle! Glad you could make it!" Bubbling witn enthusiasm was the host as they appeared, swooping away from some rather dull conversation he'd been having with a rather too sycophantic member of his bully crew. There were others around, but sparse so far. One or two lookedl ike vacationing continental wizarding youths. So while the house elf magiced champagne forward, Alphard made to kiss both of Morgana's cheeks, and shake Tony's hand. Best of buddies! Alphard might.. perhaps.. had already started on the drinking.

Anthony returns the hand shake, and he's in robes, perhaps overly formal for the way the host is dressed, but these things are so hard to tell. He accepts the champagne, and tries not to glower at the kisses. Afterall, it's not Alphard who just underwent ordeal by Grandfather. "Thank you for having us! The place looks lovely."

Morgana only takes a second or two to dust off whatever soot may have landed on her and her dark purple dress. "Evening Black, thank you for the invite." SHe'll allow for the double cheek kiss and lets Anthony shake the other boys hand. "It seems you have spared no expense?" She says, gesturing toward the room with her gloved hand.

Not really late arrival but Edgar is here! And dressed in a suit far more expensive than the ones he goes through at Hogwarts. Fancy dark blue suit, polished dark brown shoes, et cetera. Carrow is only a shade less somber today.

"You like it?" Alphard asked Anthony with a cock sure grin, as he looked across the decor of the room. "Of course, Rashley. How could I not invite your pretty little self? Plus, Medusa insisted your name be on the list." The latter added with a grin that was part playful, part not. Regardless he winked and then waved them on further in, saying only of the cost, quite nonchalantly: "Oh, it was nothing."

"Carrow, here, take a drink. Put a smile on your lips." And he'd move to shake Edgar's hand, too!

Anthony carefully hands a champagne to his companion, and takes another for himself, "Thank you, once again!" He gives a grin, "Although I _have_ promised to escort her back not _too_ much after midnight…"

A wave of red satin and gold steps into the room, its shoulders are wrapped in a mink fur. Ria Sykes has arrived. "Make sure those presents are given to Mr. and Mrs. Black later, as well as the rest of the gifts," she says instructing a Black family house elf, who was carrying quite a number of heavy presents from the Sykes to the host family. As if the poor creature didn't have enough, Ria delicattely removes her fur coat and tosses it unforgivingly on top of the elf's load and shoos it away with a cold, "And make sure you hand that coat //properly."

A quick straighening of her dress and she's back in business, heading over to Alphard and Edgar. "Blue suit. Nice touch Carrow. And Alphard, happy holidays," she says warmly giving the black boy a two cheek kiss like she usually does with the rest of his family.

As she walks in with Douglas, entering via the door, Medusa shrugs off her fur coat and hands it off to an elf or whoever is handling those things. She isn't wont to care until she needs it later. Tugging in turn on her dark green satin gloves she smiles up at the Scot. "I do so love the kilt. Thank you for wearing it." She leans up, not quite so far as usual thanks to her high heels, and dots a kiss against his cheek leaving a coral imprint there. And then of course the Malfoy is heading further inside the Black townhouse calling out, "Alphard!" Seeing the host she makes a beeline towards him, bringing Douglas along with her thanks to her hand holding onto his.

Andromena doesn't arrive, exactly, as she was already there. What she does do, however, is appear from some other room when she hears the (for Alphard), enthusiastic greeting given to Morgana and her cousin Anthony. Brightening upon seeing them, the young woman made her way over to the slowly-gathering group.

"Anthony, Morgana!" Said cheerily before her eyes alighted upon Carrow. "And Edgar as well - oh yes, do have something to drink." No better way to start things off than with a beverage, no? As should be expected, Andromena is garbed richly in a fashionable dress of darkest blue. In short order, further guests arrived, which meant Andromena had to greet them with the appropriate level of happiness, too.

Variel says, "Black, I haven't a clue how you manage something so bloody lively with class, but yhe result is phenomenal!" Variel's lively voice rings out as he trades robes for a flute of champagne, his suit and tie working to give the impression that the redhead had sewn a thundercloud into an impeccably tailored suit."

Lucinda is wearing a dress constructed by a fine hand, it might be a designer piece or just a well cut knock off. It's hard to glean without the very closest inspection of the garment. She is bedecked in a light, airy fabric which hangs around her angular figure without clinging to it any revealing fashion. An empire waist gathers the ethereal dress just below her modest bosom with a bit of embroidery that looked like a snake biting it's own tail surrounds her figure in that spot; almost like a high placed belt. The head of the snake comes up and the dark green creature looks like it would have landed in her cleavage, had she any… as it stands the well stitched snake rests it's intricate head on the gossamer fabric that covers her completely. The fabric of the dress has been charmed, like her cloak. A hideous chartruese that caught the light and offered a sort of slimy iridescence. The unfortunate pea soup color of the dress evolves and shimmers with her movements; fading through emeralds and turquoise. The Slughorn walked in, looking around… nervous perhaps. She hadn't a smile on as she slipped into the room, hanging back like a wallflower at first.

Douglas grins as he hands off a robe to the house elf, nodding briefly. "Everyone loves a kilt. Just you watch. By the end of the night, I'll have had so many women's hands up it to check I'm Scottish, I'll start getting callouses." He follows on, well, if we're honest, it's more dragged on by Medusa towards Alphard, whereupon he offers his hand after a brief moment of juggling Medusa's hand and the glass of champagne to free one up for shaking. "Black, fit like. Good of you to have us. Happy Hogmanay, eh?"

Anthony greets his cousin with a kiss on the cheek and a brief hug, "I feel overdressed. Should I drop down to suit, do you spose?" The question seems aimed into the space between Morgana and Andromena, for either to pick up and run with.

"Then I guess it's your job to make sure she drinks her allocation of booze before then, Rowle. It would be a shame to waste any!"

"Ria, you know how to make a boy regret being taken!" Alphard said with a hundred percent cheek as he looked the seventh year over. "Happy holidays!" And quite thoroughly planted his lips right back on Ria's cheeks. And he barely had time to get his bearings before he was hearing MEdusa call out his name, too. So he spun in that direction: "Medusa!" And more cheek kissing, before pawing a hand towards Douglas as well. "Douglas, glad you could make it. I have some of those!" Kilts, that were. He wasn't wearing them, of course. No, it was all smart tailor glad suit for him. "You too, Douglas!"

Shaking Alphard's hand with a faint grin, Edgar nods once to him, "Yeah, I'll have a few. Merry Christmas, Black. Presents are incoming too, whenever the house elves decide to stop their slacking around." Then Ria approaches and immediately teases him for his suit; somewhat red from embarrassment of that, he replies, "Thank you, Sykes. You look quite good, yourself." A pause and he waves a greeting to Andromena, "Mena. Merry Christmas." Glancing sidelong at Lucinda, he gestures for the Slughorn to approach. "Quit the wallflowering, Slughorn, /I/ am not blending in the environs!"

"Weasly. Well.." Alphard scratched his cheek like he couldn't quite remember if he had actually invited Variel. Inevitably he looked towards Meanie and Medusa to see if this was a gate crasher he had to throw out. "Good of you to come. Enjoy the champagne. But don't be too quick on it. I expect you're not too used to that sort of thing."

"I will go home when I am good and ready. You'll just have to deal with my grandfather then." Morgana says with a smirk as she takes her glass and sips from it. "Carrow, good to see you, you appear to clean up nicely." Seeing Douglas and Medusa, she'll give them a wave, but let them greet the host first. "Andromena, good to see you. You look lovely, as does this party." SHe's sure that some of the aesthetics must have come from her, since that's what girlfriends do right?

Lucinda smirks a bit tight lipped as she strides further into the gathering, her shoulders are back and her head it up. She didn't look nervous anymore, perhaps a bit dour as always… that ever present sneer that suggest she smelled something awful blossoms in her best attempt at a smile. "I brought your gift, Carrow." Cinda comments, her hand dipping into her sleeve and pulling out a long box. Slightly bigger than the sort of jewelery boxes that held necklaces in the Muggle Word. To a Wizard it quite obviously the sort of parcel that housed a new quill. She hands it out to Edgar, that vapid grin drifting off to the others near him. "It's wonderful to see you, all." The greeting is offered to the Blacks and those in their company. Perhaps not wanting to impose herself with handshakes and hellos. She was a quiet girl in large groups.

Ria gives the host a roll of her eyes, matched with a smirk. Tutting shamefully at him she replies, "Alphard, don't say such sinful things!" A playful pat on the shoulder, and she turns around instead to take a step over toward Andromena. Sneaking up behind the girl, her red lips slowly mouth something into Mena's ear. All the while the Slytherin prefect wears a deviously creepy grin on her face.

You sense: Ria huskily quotes a familiar line from one of their books, "The way you're dressed this evening, you're just asking me to steal you." A bit rapey by today's standards, but in 1938 it was called romantic!

Medusa, being a Malfoy is well used to such social niceties and thinks nothing of sharing cheek kisses or working her way around the room. She keeps hold of Douglas' hand or arm and steers him off to the side, flashing a smile at Morgana as the pass her by. Leaning in she murmurs something to Douglas, likely an indication that they can go sit in one of the more quiet rooms. A smile is sent towards Andromena but seeing the girl is busy she makes a mental note to speak with her later.

"I told you it was just a tad too much last night," Andromena said with a grin. "But don't fret, you look pretty smashing in it. That has to count for something." Andromena will send a glance toward Morgana to see if she agrees or not. As for whether or not her hand in decorating the place had come into play…well, it was anyone's guess. Surely her status as girlfriend could account for more than just making things looking fancy, though.

Having caught Alphard's look, Andromena would give the: affirmative nod. Weasley had been invited.

"Merry Christmas, Edgar. I see you brought a guest." A slight uplift of her chin to indicate Lucinda where she stood greeting others. It's about that time when Ria whispers into her ear, causing Andromena to turn, quite quickly, a bright cherry red. Turning, she'd give Ria a big scoff before beginning to laugh.

"What was that I heard you say about sinful, miss Aria Sykes?"

Douglas's brows raise at Medusa's whispered suggestion, a somewhat guilty, mischievous look flickering across his face as he looks around to see who heard. He lifts a hand towards Morgana as he spies her, along with a genuine smile and a nod, then a pointedly raised brow towards Anthony, a mute query.

Anthony pages Andromena, Douglas, and Morgana: In the words of the song, "Is she really going out with him?"

"Only when it's warranted, Ria, only when it's warranted." Alphard murmured, all grins as he watched her drift over to whisper with Andromena.

"Your date for the evening, eh, Carrow?" Alphard asked, looking Lucinda over in a way that was half playful, half judgemental. Then he moved forward, intending to give the younger girl the same cheerful cheek kisses he had given every other girl come to his party so far. "Good to have you, Slughorn. Enjoy the champagne. Try not to end up having to be carried, eh?" Because that was how underage girls ended up at parties, wasn't it? "But Edgar's right. Let's not be a wallflower. It's much more fun to dance around in the middle of the meadow!"

Variel grins as the host boggles over how precisely Weasley got an invitation. "No worries, I've no intention to need help to get home." He turns towards Andromena and sweeps a clever bow. "Rowle, you and Black have outdone yourselves. The decor is smashing. This' ll be talked about for ages." He straightens and sips at the champagne, apparently having some idea of what he was doing.

"Rashley, Merry Christmas!" Edgar is still a shade or two red from Ria's remark so Morgana's adds to it a bit. "You look quite stunning yourself, if I may say so," he murmurs before Lucinda approaches him and he takes the gift box, opening to look inside — curse his curiosity. "Oh, wow. This looks good! Thank you, Slughorn." Now he definitely looks red; but it is fleeting as his attention goes to Andromena when she remarks about a guest. "Oh, indeed." And then Alphard appears to have met Lucinda beforehand and invites her to the party, which seems to calm the Carrow from a certain state of anxiety.

Ria puffs up dramatically and scolds the Ravenclaw, "Your attire Miss Rowle! It's an absolute vice! In a good way." The last sentence is delivered light and friendly, but she does take a moment to admire Adromena's hair, "No, really Mena, you look absolutely lovely. Only please just call me Ria. Only my family calls me Aria." She's almost pleading, and had it been anyone else she would have snapped at being called by her full name. "Anyhow, I'll let you get back to entertaining. I've got a Bulstrode to do business with."

A parting pat on Andromena's shoulder, and Ria's got her game face back on, making a beeline straight for a dark haired boy in the far corner schmoozing with some girls who seem to be eating out of the palm of his hand. She stops pauses only to pick up a champaign glass before confidently striding over. What business could she be speaking of?

If Medusa has any qualms about leaving Andromena to hold her own as hostess along with Alphard it doesn't show. She's far to happy to settle down sitting on a sofa in an out of the way room where she can drink champagne and enjoy both Douglas' sparkling wit and company and the sight of his legs in that kilt.

Morgana shakes her shoulders at Anthony. "You do what you wish." Far be it from her to judge the what her date is wearing, so long as it wasn't horrid. The looks from Medusa and Douglas cause her to raise her brow just a bit, than take a rather large sip from her champagne. That being her only form of non-verbal communication for the day. "Thank you Carrow, I do occasionally take time to make myself presentable in public." She's mostly joking and when the conversation arises she'll nod her head. "I should go speak with Medusa and Douglas, I haven't seen them in a while." She says, trying to pull away from her date for the moment.

Anthony pauses, and then pulls his silk robe off, to reveal a well cut suit beneath. "Well, best blend in, I spose." He gives the hostess and the date alternating smiles, and then clears his throat, and drains his champagne, "Miss Rashley. Care to dance?"

Everyone loves a man in a kilt. Science fact. And so as Douglas settles into the sofa, one arm around Medusa and the other casually holding his champagne, he flashes his best, most charming smile at every girl who happens to glance his way. Just because he happens to be here with his girlfriend, that's not about to stop him flirting with anything with boobs. "Rashley!" he calls over, gesturing her closer with a movement of his champagne glass, just as Anthony calls her to dance. "Happy Hogmanay, will you take a drink with us?"

Variel catches something being said and turns toward Anthony and Morgana. "Rashley, you look fan-tastic. I do adore a good party, if only for all the inspirations. A pleasure to see you this evening. If you need to pay your respects, by all means- I owe Rowle a thank you from earlier, anyway."

Lucinda accepts the cheek kiss in stride, not looking over joyed about the gesture but no one was likely to take much offense from her sneer. It was her known demeanor. She was a proud girl, vain and graceful. Alas though, she was dull to a fault. Her voice some antispetic monotone most times. Even here the light lilt in her alto voice barely sounds amused. More considering. "Thank you, Alphard. I'm glad I could make it this year…" She mummers, smirking. Simpering. Her pale grey eyes cut away, flitting over the faces of the older girls present. Cinda had the good fortune of being quite tall, a five eight she was able to make eye contact with most of them easily enough. Still though, her gaze tended to linger awkwardly around the chin and neck of most folks. Not the eyes. As Andromena draws attention her Lucinda makes a passing curtsey and aknowledges the older girl with a nod of her head. "I'll need quite a bit of champagne if I'm supposed to go flouncing through some meadow." Muttered Lucinda with a hint of sarcastic good cheer in an aside to the nearby Edgar.

"Ah, thank you Weasley. I had considerable help from Medusa as well." Because if it were just Andromena, let's face it, things probably would have turned out…not quite so wonderful. "Alphard will be quite pleased to hear that," regarding the notion of his party being talked about for ages. In truth, she wouldn't deny being about smug about it, either. One doesn't date a chap like Alphard Pollux Black without some small sense of pride, certainly.

"Ria, you know, I have this idea…" The Ravenette would proceed to whisper to the older Slytherbitch, hand cupped to her ear and obviously giggling as she unashamedly looks Alphard's way. And then Ria is off, with the promise of, "I shan't ever do it again!"

For a brief moment, Andromena finds herself somewhat alone. Or perhaps the more appropriate thing to say was that she wasn't currently being mobbed by people she was forced to greet in some semblance of cheer. It wasn't like every single sixth year invited or guest that tagged along was a person she'd normally seek out on her own, after all. (Here's to looking at you, you smarmy Gryffindor prat - no, not Variel. That other one).

"I guess you'll have to work double time, then, Slughorn," Alphard replied with a small eye roll. As he detatched himself from her side he leaned in against Edgar to murmur a few quiet words that were meant to be drowned out by the music. Afterwards he continued on to mingle. Shake some hands, clap some shoulders, making sure that everybody had the drinks they were meant to have.

Medusa smiles and waves to Morgana, joining in with Douglas to motion their friend over. She nods towards the chair next to their sofa. "Come share a drink and toast the new year with us, Morgana." She has enough champagne left for that at least.

There's another arrival by courtesy of the floo system; the young witch that steps into the room from one of the smaller adjoining ones taking just a moment or two to brush her hands over her the gown she wears before a glance around her is given. Dark hair pulled back into a neat coiffe, she blends immediately into the mingling party goers and accepts a glass of drink that's pushed into her hands by one of the house elves. Taking her drink, she retreats to one of the corners of the room, one of the corners that the floating specs of lights don't seem so terribly concerned with lighting up for now.

The young wizard who arrived with her splits off from his accomplice, instead moving in another direction. Trying to blend in, but tweeds, collarless shirt, and hobnail boots aren't the ideal kit for the mission.

"Likely so," Edgar replies to Lucinda with a smirk, finding some amusement in the Slughorn's remark. He laughs at whatever Alphard murmurs to him and makes a reply in turn, lifting his eyebrows slightly. "I'll go get some drinks, myself. Shall we?" He offers his arm to the Slughorn.

Morgana looking to Anthony, Morgana spies the mostly empty dance floor. "I think it's customary for the host to open up the dancing, I will wait until then." Because other wise, they're dancing on an empty floor and it looks awkward. Nodding to Variel she'll smirk. "Excellent, I'll go say my hellos, and you can have a chat with Weasley here." With that she'll slip off toward the couch where Medusa and Douglas are and clink glasses. "Macmillin, glad to see you're dressed appropriately. And yes, Happy New Year." She says, taking a long drink from her glass.

Anthony pauses, and then nods, taking another glass of champers for himself, and strolling on over after Morgana. Yep. Dancing attendence.

Her smile grin crests from sneer to smile as she takes Edgar's arm and allows him to lead her off, "Let's." She concurs as she walks off with him. It's worth to note that /whatever/ Alphard had been whispering to Edgar is dutifully ignored. She makes a point to look away, seemingly interested in the decorations and allowing her attention only to sneak back over when Edgar offers his arm. "Secrets cause your insides to rot." She mutters matter of factly but without further explanation or care. Infact, she was looking off and not at Carrow as she allowed that statement to hang tangible in the air… Lucinda is not angry, not starting a fight, just sharing a cold remark. One she likely did not believe.

Douglas flashes a grin at Morgana, glancing down to his kilt then back up. "If you can tell I'm dressed appropriately from there, then Medusa's luckier than I thought. How're you doing, Rashley? Rowle," he adds, as Anthony follows her along like a lost puppy, giving him a light nod. "My plan for the evening is to get stupid drunk, dance like a fanny, and then probably make passes at you, anyone else within range, and then get dragged off to a secluded room somewhere with Medusa so she can show me the error of my ways. You up for that?"

Andromena, by virtue of having meandered off to get herself a drink while there was as yet no one to pester her (and just before she intended to go visit with Medusa and Douglas), happens to see the arrival of two new bodies. Hm. Somewhat short bodies. And wasn't that…"Hey," Andromena calls out, beginning to follow after Lucretia.

Angus is just in the process of downing a glass of Brandy. Who left out the 1900 Napoleon, anyway? Then he hears the 'Hey', freezes a moment, as he assumes it's him, and then seeing who it is, he goes from naught to sixty in 0.1 seconds, sprinting in front of the sixth year, in a flurry of limbs, "Ye'll ne'er catch me alive!" Gets bawled in a thick Scots accent. "It'll tak more than a Polis man tae stop me!"

Anthony says, absolutely straight faced, "That sounds absolutely delightful, MacMillan, but I have to say, I prefer longer, and more elegant dresses, such as this," and he gestures approvingly to Morgana, "…to the skirt you've got on!" And then he's distracted by the yelling, and glances around to watch.

Lucretia holds her composure when Meanie starts to head her way. Had she been spotted? Had she not? Seems that whether she was or wasn't is irrelevant however as a hairy haggis darts between her and Meanie, effectively giving her a window of opportunity. She takes it, ducks behind a small group of 6th years and emerges into clean air, insinuating herself almost seamlessly into a conversation some randome Ravenclaw attendees are engaged in. "Really? How hilarious!" A giggle, a laugh, and watching the meltdown surreptitiously from the corner of her eye, she completely abandons her co-conspirator. Every man for himself.

"Lovely frock Morgana." Medusa lightly touches her glass to the other girl's. Having spotted the younger of the Macmillan brothers dashing past Medusa chooses to ignore it and sip her drink. "Ahd hello Tony." Her steely blue eyes widen slightly as she looks from Morgana to Anthony and back again, giving him a suspicious look. Luckily for the male Rowle her attention is distracted by Douglas. "I think that sounds like a grand plan, only I full intend to dance with Alphard and possibly do my best to see Sykes drunk. Then I can say I've seen both of the twins sozzled."

Douglas squints at Anthony, holding up a finger from his glass. "One. It's a kilt." Another finger goes up. "Two, go fuck yourself." And then there's a familiar voice and Douglas's face turns from amiable enjoyment to frustration. "Oh, for fuck's sake…"

"What the.." Alphard growled as he watched the kid sprint infront of Andromena. Immediately his eyes narrowed into a glower. Gate crasher, and he recognized who it was, too. "Fucking Macmillans." Rather than draw his wand and start throwing spells around, which just wouldn't do in polite company, he growled for the house elf. "I want him locked down in the bloody basement." The one Alphard privately hated, and so considered the perfect punishment for anyone who was out of line. "You can let him out in the morning."

Andromena practically jumps backward, splashing her drink on a hapless house elf as its passing by. And thank goodness, too, because if it had gotten on her dress Angus would only have to pray the 'Polis man' got to him before she did. It did, however, slop on to her hand and that was just irritating enough.

"We've been breached," she calls out, partly in annoyance, but partly in amusement. Oh yes, sick amusement. Because the little gnome would get caught, and then he could deal with Alphard. Was that any indication of her mental state? No. Probably. She never even realized it was a MacMillan. Pointing after the fleeing figure she cries, "Someone get him!" Because she couldn't be expected to run now, could she?

"Only if you have too many of them," Edgar retorts at Lucinda with a smirk before pouring her a glass of champagne and himself some brandy. He might have a preference for mead but this is a Serious Party, innit? "Thankfully, I don't see any meadows nearby, so a little excess on your part by the champagne might be forgived," he murmurs to the Slughorn with some amusement, "not that I wouldn't help you out of any odd meadow-prancing situations, of course."

It actually takes a surprising amount of time for anyone to get HOLD of said hairy Haggis, and by the time they do, he's diving head first into the floo, leaving one reveller with a black eye, and the house elf holding a hobnailed boot.

Morgana smirks at Douglas and nods her head. "Very well, I suppose I can offer you at least one dance, so long as I don't have to see what's under that kilt." Because, Morgana really doesn't want to know. Nodding to Medusa she'll smirk. "As is yours." She too decides to ignore the commotion because she is enjoying the booze. "I am sure we'll all have our turn with the host on the floor, it might be rude other wise, am I right?"

She was nodding along, smiling but otherwise stoic- until he offers the last part. Here Lucinda raises her brows and smiles more animatedly. "How gentlemanly of you." Is crooned to Edgar. She takes the champagne glass with a shallow nod of her head and a tiny mischevious smile. She raised it slightly, offering a subtle toast between the two of them. "To odd meadows." She attempts, shrugging one shoulder to suggest she was just being silly. A light laugh follows the tink of their glasses and she sips- perhaps a bit too quickly, on the bubbly brew. The antics of the younger students pull her from her revelry. Craning her neck she watches the commotion for a distracted moment.

Anthony blinks at Morgana, and then says to Medusa, "Would I be permitted to keep you entertained whilst Rashley dances with MacMillan?" He's trying hard not to notice _too_ much the actions of the 3rd year.

Setting her glass aside once it is emptied Medusa gets to her feet. "Of course, Anthony." She winks at Morgana, "Don't get too caught up with those sexy legs. Remember, Douglas is mine." With a laugh she steers Anthony off and away to the dancefloor that has been arranged. "So tell me….the conversation we had the other night Anthony, this was about a certain dark haired seventh year was it?"

Alphard grunted as he watched Angus disappear into the floo with a narrow escape. "Well," he said as he came up besides Andromena. "I suppose it wouldn't actually be much of a party if someone didn't try to sneak into it. Besides.." and then his smile turned deceptivly mild, even as his voice went cruel: "In a few days we'll be back to Hogwarts, and I can have a little talk with him about proper decorum."

He snapped his fingers, summoning the house elf who had started slamming his head with Angus' remaining shoe for his failure to apprihend the boy. "Oh, stop that. Just look around and make sure there aren't anyone else uninvited guests snooping around. I dno't want the whole party full of rugrats."

Anthony takes the hand, and then Medusa into a waltz grip, and starts moving. Not exactly a thing of grace on his part, but he knows the steps at least, and the point of a guy dancing is to make the girl look good, right? He says, quietly, "This is a possibility, yes."

Lucretia can't help but scrunch her face when she hears Angus' intended punishment. The basement. Yeesh. She downs the glass in her hand, champagne, and slides it onto the tray of a passing house elf, snagging a fresh one. At this rate she'll be two sheets to the wind within twenty minutes or less. Less probably since she's not a hardened drinker. With Angus' fate hanging in the balance however, she does turn from the group she's pushed her way into and there's a small, tiny clench of her fingers around her glass as he just escapes by the skin of his teeth. Gown sparking with faint electric blue lights, she decides to detach herself from her new-found friends and heads for the other side of the room, keeping to the perimeter and avoiding as best she can anyone that might know her.

Andromena can't help but wonder if she and Alphard were the only two people intent on doing anything about the flailing youth…she couldn't count the members of Black's every-day entourage because they were just expected to dutifully obey. One got a really nasty black eye for his efforts. Who would have expected the kid to pack such a punch? Even Andromena winced when the blow was landed. Then Angus was gone, literally, in a flash.

"You are right, of course," she says to Alphard with her own sort of sly grin. A party was measured by the number of those that desperately wanted in, but were barred from entry, was it not? After Alphard spoke with his house elf, Andromena snapped her fingers. She'd only just remembered. "Right. I swore I saw a girl that doesn't belong before that little fiasco. So keep your eyes open." No description was given, however. How helpful of her.

Douglas raises a brow at Morgana, then nods to the seat beside him. "Here, join me, if you can keep your eyes off my legs for a wee moment, at least. The offer still stands, by the way." A brief nod towards Medusa and Anthony on the dance floor.

Morgana moves from her seat to the spot besides Douglas and shakes her head. "I can't, you know I love looking at your man legs." Morgana says in her dry tone, nabbing another glass of champagne for herself before she shakes her head at him. "We could dance, but I'm afraid you can't keep your hands off of my arse."

"Over there! That one!" a house elf suddenly yells, pointing in Lucinda's direction.

"The thought of your arse is the only thing that keeps me going at night," Douglas assures Morgana solemnly, lifting his glass to touch to hers. "You know Medusa's just a front so I can get closer to you, of course."

Of course Lucretia didn't actually count as an uninvited guest as far as the house elf was concerned. She was a Black. "I guess you must've just been mistaken," he told Andromena with a shrug, then snagged himself another glass of champagne, since the last one had somehow gone empty. Then the house elf piped up and..: "Oh shut it. She's a plus one. Just go back to doing.. whatever you were diong!" His arm meanwhile slid in around the Ravenclaw's. "Mhmm.. I like this song." Though it was fairly early, and the dancefloor was conspiciously empty, perhaps due the amount of booze having yet to have built up to the level where teenage insecurities were gone with the end.

"To odd meadows, indeed," Edgar smiles back at Lucinda and toasts to that and drinks from his sifter, watching very, very quietly the events that unfold. When the house elf starts pointing at his plus-one's direction, he's about to tell the house elf off but Alphard thankfully gets to it before he does! Lifting his glass o' booze in his classmate's direction, he sips again.

Variel blinks as Anthony blithely wanders away from him on Morgana's heels, after a concerted effort to keep him in place for a moment. And then he goes and makes an arse of himself to Douglas. Brilliant. Weasley shrugs and leaves Rowle to sink or sink faster on his own, he takes a few more sips from the flute as he wanders. It occurs to him that he wouldn't mind having his own flute- the musical sort- but there's music present already. No need to turn loud into clamor. Having already greeted the host and planner, he's rather aimless, and free to amuse himself however he pleases. Which, for the moment, is playing hide and go seek with an uninvited guest.

Medusa is a much better dancer than Anthony, but not a nicer person. When he steps on her toe she glares at him. "I hope you don't plan on using your dance moves to try and win Morgana over," she says drolly. As they turn around she shakes her head, "This isn't a waltz you know." Deciding to take the lead Medusa begins to /guide/ Anthony through the dance. "So that conversation…I don't think you're barking up the right tree. Just saying…best friends share things. Secrets." And in case Medusa wasn't clear enough, "Secrets about what boys they do and do not fancy."

Anthony's face falls a little, as he's guided around, "No?" There's a long sigh, which probably isn't audible from the edge of the dancefloor, but the lack of joy in the dance most certainly is.

Andromena never did get a chance to refill her own glass, though the beleaguered house elf does get her empty one in a very dismissive fashion. "Hm?" She cants her head to listen to the song, and then nods. "As do I. Shall we?" People were waiting on them to dance, weren't they? A few had already mosied out there, though. Why, Medusa looked quite daring as she lead her cousin about. Or…something like that. And while Andromena may not have had enough to drink to warrant any Dragon Wriggle Downs, she was never averse to a little fun on the dance floor.

Lucretia breathes again. Breathes. Thank Merlin for house elves and being nice to them on occasion paying off. Looking altogether the diminutive and gracious party-goer, she's just claiming her third glass of champagne when her fingers clash with Variels over the lofted drinks tray. There's a small squint given him and she raises one finger to her mouth in an exaggerated shushing motion. "Give me up and I'll leave that knife in your butter, Weasley. Care to dance?"

Eyes narrow under a pair of coppery brows, but no malice or accusation makes it into the expression. "… you drive a cruel bargain, little harpy. You leave my butter out of this." Variel cracks into a smile afterwards, genuine and easy, as he offers her his hand. "Fortune favors, eh, Black?"

"I knew it." Morgana says to Douglas. "You've always wanted me, but I can't break her heart like that. You'll just have to pine over me Doug." However she is watching Medusa and Tony on the dance floor, and she shakes her head when she sees the boys shoulders slump. "I think Medusa just burst his bubble."

"So your cousin and Rashley, eh?" Alphard asked Meanie as they swung around on the dancefloor. His eyes flew towards the boy in question and Medusa, bemused. As they spun around, his attentions then continued over towards Morgana and Douglas.

"Look," begins Medusa with a sigh. She leans in so she can speak quietly to Anthony and that he can hear her over the loud music. "Try another girl. I stand by my advice even more so than before because I know Morgana. I know what happened in her past and the type of boy she fancies." Looking around again Medusa nods towards Lucinda, trying to draw Anthony's attention to the other girl, "You should try for a nice quiet girl. One who doesn't have a thing for blond idiots."

If looks could kill, that sweet cleche, the poor house elf who pointed at Lucinda would have likely melted on sight. Her nostril curls back and the glower given the house elf is one ready to correct his intent. Cinda is able to stop herself though, falling silent as Alphard handles it. "I swear, you'd think I was some mudblood." Is muttered half into her champagne flute before she took a sip. Cinda lowers her glass and points at the house elf for a second, challenging it to walk away with the most dismissive of gestures. It was already told off by it's owner though so her actions just serve to satisfy her own feelings. Turning back to Edgar she notes her empty glass with a pout. "Just one more." Lucinda says, for the first time tonight. "So do you dance…" She asks with a coy smirk before turning to find another drink.

"I guess that saves me punching him for you," Douglas points out, shrugging as he drains his glass and waves it towards a house elf. More please. "I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart? Here, get Rashley another one, too," he tells the elf, then shakes his head. "No, wait, get us both a whisky or something."

Speak of the Devil and she appears. Gilded in black, that had accents of gold that seemed to compliment those long blond curls. Lea Rashley could have been going to a funeral, rather than a party. But, she'd given her word that she would and thus? As her robes disappear with her stole, is she left by the door; those dark eyes sweeping out across the crowd while she took measure of the music that washed against her.

"The Blacks are never short of fortune or of favouring Weasley," Lucretia returns, taking the hand offered her. He, above anyone, might appreciate the skill with which her own dress is tailored as she pinches it expertly with the fingers and thumb of one hand, hitching it just enough so the passage of her steps remain unheeded as he leads her to a clearer spot for dancing in. Of course, clearer areas mean more chance that Alphard will spot her and sling her out, but to hell with it, a dance and champagne is worth that risk.

Anthony says quietly, "Past mistakes don't have to equate to future behaviour you know." And he essays a little spin of the girl, again, mostly to give her the chance to show off, "And I… sometimes have hope."

Andromena shook her head to Alphard when he posed his question. "I do not believe so," she informs him. "Did you just see how far his shoulders slumped? I haven't seen his face yet, but I'll warrant his expression is absolutely crestfallen." There's a bit of pity in her voice, but what can she do about it? Unlucky in love, was Anthony.

"You are like a dog with a bone, Anthony Rowle." Medusa shakes her head as she gets spin around the dancefloor. "Persistence isn't always attractive, don….oh nevermind you will do what you like. All boys do. I need another drink. Why don't you try dancing with Lea Rashley." Turning abruptly on her heel, Medusa raises the hem of her silvery green silk dress and strides off ditching poor Anthony on the dancefloor so that she might get a much stiffer drink from the bar.

Morgana shakes her head at Douglas. "Now you're just trying to get me sloshed. Are you going to carry me home now?" Though she isn't going to turn down the hard stuff because this is a party and she isn't at school either. "I thought they were too, but recent events have me questioning the intelligence of my own house."

"Fancied me, you know. Tried to get me alone in a classroom to snog, once. Leaning in, straightning my tie, whispering in my ear. Really it was almost a bit too much. Hopefully she's moved on to someone else by now." Alphard murmured it all quiet convincingly earnest, because he was. "I guess she likes the more dangerous type."

It was Lea he spotted first, which was the original reason why he was moving away from Meanie even though they'd only done half a dance. Had to greet his guests! But then midstride he caught an eyefull of Lucretia and was diverted. Brusque steps carried him over, his eyes narrow in accusation. "Merlin's.. Have you been drinking?" Suddenly imagining the horror of his parents, or uncle, finding out that his little cousin might have gotten drunk at his party. "That's it. You're gone. And straight to fucking bed, Lulu, and don't you talk to a damn soul before tomorrow morning, or I swear I will make your life miserable!"

Anthony sighs, and shrugs, retreating to snag another drink, and take it out onto the balcony, into the cooler night air. To broooooooooood. Weasley gets a muttered, "Sorry. Think nothing of it" as Rowle goes past.

"Drinking? Not since I found her. Is she not supposed to be here?" Variel remarks, looking to Lucretia for a moment, befuddled. "I watched two house elves walk right past her. Guess they thought she was invited, too. But no, she hasn't had a drink, Black. Just the thrill of gently crashing a party, I'd wager."

Andromena rolls her eyes. Half a dance and he was off to yell at his cousin, and if Andromena didn't know any better she'd hazard a guess that was the person she'd seen originally. With a shrug, there was only one of two things to do: finish the dance with Anthony, or join Medusa at the bar. Seeing as Anthony darted off to be alone, Medusa it was! She wanted to talk with her in any case.

"I can't carry both you and Malfoy," Douglas points out amiably, "but one whisky's hardly going to knock you out. I'll play Medusa with more so I can drag her off and take advantage. It's traditional at parties, right?" He pulls himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders. "Right."

"Please, you're a Slughorn and a Slytherin. Everyone in this room knows. I pity that poor house elf, though," Edgar replies, sipping his brandy again as he glances edgewise to Lucinda. "Yeah, sure." And he refills her glass with champagne, before she makes that question on whether he dances. "Uh… not very well, but I can promise not to step on toes, at least? …Wait, that wasn't a serious question, was it?" Or wasn't it?

Lucretia stiffens, shoulders pulling up on a level with her ears as she turns to face her cousin. "Alphard." Its the one word, her bubble at managing to crash and actually almost get a dance completely burst. She rolls her eyes in typical rebellious teenage fashion. "Fine." She slips her arm from the the curve of Variel's offering him an apology with a belated smile. "FINE!" That one word. Its been the death knell of many a man, and right now it might possibly hold a wealth more meaning than might be given credit for. "I'll go. Have a lovely party, I'll be itching to find out how it turns out."

The diamonds in Medusa's ears glitter as her head turns, having heard Andromena's approach. "Hello there." She is well onto her third drink by the time the female Rowle approaches her. "Your cousin is an idiot, Andromena. I've tried to tell him he's an idiot and he refuses to listen to reason." Turning further she leans against a wall and eyes her drink. "What is this stuff? Something Jenny concocted no doubt. Where are she and Silas anyway? I figured she'd be here and what with his being surgically attached to her hip, him too." Briefly casting aside her bitchiness she leans over to kiss Andromena's cheek, "You do look stunning and are being an excellent hostess."

No champagne. There was just something about the bubbles that Lea didn't much care for. The tickling, perhaps. Her eyes brushed on Alphard's though, before he ended up distracted and other nods were offered to those she recognized about the room, though the sound of Lucretia's yelling did turn her ears. That much at least she could pluck up across the distance, but not the why's. Either way, Lea eventually stepped deeper into the room and started towards the bar.

Alphard intended to see Lucretia straight through the floo, and shove her if necessary. With annoyance he sneered out a: "Be glad I don't lock you in the bloody basement until morning. Perhaps a bit of quiet time would teach you to think twice." If anything she was getting more of an ire out of him than Angus had. Angus he didn't care about, and wasn't likely to make his parents furious at him if they found out about it.

Then, pretending like nothing, he'd finally get around to crossing over to Lea. "Rashley!" And she was going to be caught, and she was going to have to suffer through the enthusiasm of Alphard kissing her cheeks. One after the other! Because that was how you greeted female guests at a party, damn it. "Glad you could make it. No champagne? Damn, where's Jenny when you need her? The house elves should be able to make something, anyway. There's a list."

Andromena returns the smooch. Reaching for a glass, she takes a drink, tasting it tentatively. "I cannot be certain," she replies with a small pout - though it's mostly for Anthony. "I've…never known him to have a crush on someone before, so his doggedness is somewhat surprising. People get all sorts of peculiar when it comes to infatuations, however." A shrug when it comes to Jenny and Silas. Andromena hadn't the foggiest idea.

"Thank you, Medusa. You're looking ravishing, as ever. And I couldn't have done even a quarter of this without your help!" Because the older girl knew how these functions were supposed to flow, where Andromena could have only guessed. She did pick out good music, though. And oh, she'd gotten that recipe from the old bird at the Three Broomsticks.

Lucretia has time, but barely, to grab one last glass of champagne with each hand before she gets unceremoniously shoved back through the floo. There's a puff of green and, some might say, a small laugh that just echoes a second or two after she's gone.

"Thank you," Is mouthed silently as her glass is refilled. Lucinda then takes a long pull on the champagne, finishing most of her second glass all at a sip. She hands down the three quarter empty flute to a passing house elf without acknowledging the creature. "Well, I've been dancing long enough for the both of us… should be able to make you look like you know what you're doing. No one else will know…" Cinda offers, her smile after two glasses of champagne is more full than it's been all year. The dull eyes don't sparkle but she looks happy all the same. "If you're awful, I promise not to tell." Is spoken with a brief pause as she took a hesitant step toward the dance floor. Her light gossamer dress drifts around her figure, making her look like she was floating with each dainty step, a slow deliberate twirl brings her round to face him again. Her hand out, brows raised.

Variel saw Lucretia off, returning her little apologetic smile, and Hmm'd thoughtfully, turning about and scanning the crowd, as if expecting to see another munchkin about. In truth, he's looking for something Alphard's already found. It takes a moment to gauge her course, and another few to work his way through the crowd in an entirely circumlocutious path to his goal, but he manages to get to the bar while Rashley's held up by the host. After all, there's no chance in hell Lea will do anything but the perfectly proper procedure of being trading greetings with Black. He has time. And, once he reaches the bar, he has scotch, too. And, oddly enough, a glass of cognac which he doesn't so much as touch.

"Black," Lea's enthusiasm is not quite the same. There's a chill to it that goes beyond the simple cold outside, for all the gesture is returned. Empty kisses, her lips never entirely touching his cheeks so much as the suggestion of the warmth of her breath. "Quite the event you've put together. And," there was a grin, though it was brief, fleeting. "Thank you for that remarkable present. It's got…quite the personality."

A few hours of free booze later..

It didn't even take Lea Rashley a few hours. In fact, one could count it down to thirty minutes. Thirty minutes and it was time enough to greet the host, thank him and then? Depart without being insulting. She just, doesn't have the social skills.

The party's redhead content, step-child or not, dropped dramatically with Variel's departure. He makes sure to thank Alphard, Andromena and Medusa for planning everything, compliments the event just so, and departs without muss or fuss.

After dancing with several others, including members of her own sex, Medusa rounds up Douglas, pulling him away from a girl. "No," she says with a laugh, "she does not want to hear about the magic wand in your pocket. I keep telling you that line only works on me." As he leans in towards another girl to ask, "Did you know I play quidditch? Do you want to see my magical balls?" Medusa finds herself both groaning and laughing at the same time. "Douglas James Macmillan you are sozzled!" Pushing him off towards a sofa she deposits the tall Scot and then deposits herself onto his lap, holding him down.

Even when one had money to spend, there were still some tricks to ensure that the bank wasn't completely emptied. The champagne got markedly less expensive as more of it was consumed, and the less anyone actually cared about the flavor. Except the glasses Alphard himself was drinking from, of course, because he wasn't going to sully his tongue for anyone at all. As more booze went down, the dance floor ceased being the sole purvey of the bold, or the skilled or the confident. There were a few more gate crashers, too, but by now Alphard honestly didn't care. A few extra bodies didn't hurt, even if they were technically not all of them taken from the cream of the crop. It was the sort of thing that happened.

"Alright, alright! Listen, it's time to play a game! Cmoon. Game!" Alphard had dumped himself down into a sofa, and gotten out some special enchanted cups. He wasn't quite sober anymore, and didn't really even care who was around him. "See, they refill if you say yes! So, we everybody drink once, then we ask a question to the table.. like.. 'have I ever snogged Douglas!' and if you say yes, you gotta drink again!"

"The ones who refill if you lie, they don't work! I bought some of them, but they only refilled randomly. Utter bull." Alphard added, harrumphing. Those would've been so much cooler. "But this is second best."

Douglas squints as he's dragged off his latest attempt at a conquest by Medusa. "You look amazing. Have you got any Scots in you?" he queries, but then he's distracted by Alphard's announcement. "That," he decides, in the firm tones of the truly drunk, "is a great idea! And if they haven't snogged me, then they can form a queue."

Lucinda was in a much more cheery disposition and had probably said, 'Just one more' about six or seven times at this point in the evening. She had a light ruddy blush along the apples of her cheeks. The bridge of her normally pale nose as pink as well from the alcohol- maybe the dancing but probably just the booze. Cinda wasn't known to blush. Or giggle. "Oh, a game." She exclaimed from across the room as the call went up. Then she giggled.

Andromena is beside Alphard. Because why shouldn't she be? Maybe she wasn't all that sober any more, either, but as yet she still retained control of her volume and only felt slightly 'not normal' as opposed to that time when she…Oh, never mind. "I was pretty disappointed in them, myself," she chips in, frowning at the sadly wasted cups and all their potential.

"I always look amazing," Medusa reminds Douglas. As for his other question well she leans over and whispers something which isn't exactly as quiet as it should be given how much she has imbibed, "If you play nice I might -" with a frown she lifts her head and looks at Alphard, "You have not snogged Douglas, have you?" She clearly missed out on the explanation because it has to be explained to her. "Oh. Uhm…do you want to play Douglas?"

Carrow's polite enough never to reveal to Lucinda that she's blushing while she's buzzed, so he chuckles instead when she giggles after mentioning the game. He does comment, though, "Sounds like a reasonable game to me. Hopefully I won't have to drink that whole bottle, though."

Morgana has been doing a bit of drinking, and while she isn't completely sloshed, she is very, very, very social. And perhaps a bit more flirty than she normally is. So, finishing off a dance with some other random boy whose name she'll forget later, she is about to join her friends on the couch when the game is mentioned. "Well, this sounds like this game can only end in tears and vomit, why not?" So she'll join the small group.

Douglas is apparently quite content to play from his seat on the sofa, with Medusa in his lap, so nods amiably, arms settling around the Malfoy. "Sure, we can play. You're funny as fuck when you're drunk." Because Douglas never gets drunk. Nope. This is just a figment of your deranged imaginations. And to be fair, just because he's hitting on every girl he can see, that doesn't always imply 'drunk', just 'Macmillan'.

"Either I don't understand the game or you've snogged Douglas too many times." Lucinda chirps, floating over in the direction of the cup game. She takes a cup graciously, a pleasent glower on her face… in her revelry it becomes clear why she is most times so dour. Man- that girl was an air head. Her empty gaze looks so much more foolish when accompanied by a smile and blush. Her unique features, the wall eyed pale grey orbs that seem often indifferent flick over the folks gathered. Then back to Carrow, "So I'm just answering yes or no?" She double checks in a side long whisper below the din of excited buzz generated by the event.

Jenny's late. Past the point of fashionably late, no doubt. But present. And there's a happily fizzing flute of champage in her hand, because it happened to have been the first thing that she'd been handed when she'd come in the door; discarded her robes and promptly tugged down her skirt. True to her word, she had not showed up for Black's party in trousers and the notion of a drinking came had managed to wrangle her in a little closer towards the collective.

"I'm always funny, just like I always look amazing." Medusa fingers the large diamond pendant at her throat and then waits for somebody to give her a cup to drink from. She's been home for weeks, her Malfoy levels of expectation have nearly topped out to the point of demanding genuflection and frankly there has been a distinct lack of cap doffing and bobbed curtsies tonight.

Whatever was happening all this time, shiny red Ria was standing to the side striking a deal. "So you see, if your father were to ask Vulcano Mulciber to artifice it for you, you'd pay half the cost than that silly American you've been hiring, and twice the innovation. He gets quite creative, I can assure you." What's good for extended family is good for the Sykes. And even at a social event Ria's all business.

What's his name Bulstrode is only half interested, and is instead taken up by this game so he drags Ria by the arm to pick up an enchanted cup for the both of them. "Uhm … I'm not entirely sure if I should partake …" She's by no means sloshed, but she does have a pinkish glow across her face from one too many champaign glasses.

"Oh, come on, Riaaaaa," Andromena whines, making grabby hands for her to come and sit beside her and Alphard. "I'll even go first if it makes you feel any better."

Of course Andromena got a cup shoved into her hand first, if only because if he was going to make sure the pretty girls were getting drunk at his party, he'd definetly start at her. No underhanded motives here. None at all.

"No, Medusa, I've not bloody snogged Douglas!" He laughed at the idea. "But you have, so if we played, you'd have to say yes, and drink twice! See? Get the idea? We take turns asking the table one question, then it's yes or not. If you say yes, it's an instant refill for you!" More cups were being passed around quickly. Hs eyes fixed on Lucinda and Edgar when they came to join them. "She'd holding up better than expected, eh?" Since she was the youngest person in the room.

"Alright. So! Everybody say a quick 'yes'" and when he said it while holding the cup, it immediately filled up. "To fill the cup before every round. Then we all drink once to empty it again!" And Alphard showed by quickly draining his. It was some of the punch Jenny had cococted. "And someone asks the first question. Jenny! Hey!" He had just spotted her. "Nice skirt. Come, join! Ria, too! And.. Meanie gets to ask the first question. Since she's cute."

There's another party-goer who's late as well, which might have been something of a shock to those who know Silas and his tendency to promptness. That he doesn't enter with Jenny, but instead a few minutes later, might also cause a few head turns. But more likely, it's the outfit. A traditional boy at heart, Silas had taken the invite to dress to impress seriously, and so is in a rather interesting formal set of robes. He's quiet as he enters, waving off a drink, his face for once impassive as he scans the room… and having missed a portion of the description of the game, but seeing others gathering there, Silas walks closer, observing for now.

It is surprisingly quite easy to pull Ria down, Andromena will find. And it perhaps isn't because she's light and tiny. It is most definitely because she's a tad more silly than she thought she was. "Well okay…," she says flopping down beside Mena, red material spilling about her. "Yes." And her cup fills up. And then she peers over at the Ravenclaw to see what question she could possibly ask first.

Douglas for some reason finds the cups hilarious, draining one almost instantly then telling it 'yes' again to get it to refill. "Malfoy? We should get these cups," he tells her solemnly, then breaks into another huge grin. "Heeeyy! Sykes!" he calls over, waving the cup so some spills, sloshing over the edge. "Nice frock! It'd look awesome on my bedroom floor!"

Medusa takes her cup and sips from it. She rolls her eyes at Douglas. "I am not carrying you home, you'd better not pass out." She wiggles her satin gloved fingers in Silas' direction but then calls over to him, "Silas Meliflua you sexy beast you! Where is Adelaide?" Because surely he'd bring his ferret to a party full of drunken teans.

Andromena would not know a THING about underhanded motives. Just look at her. The picture of unspoiled innocence, she was. She had followed Alphard when he showed them all how the cups worked, like his silent little Vanna White. Oooh, ahhh. "Are we asking questions in a clockwise manner, did we discuss that? Whatever," she's talking fast, which tends to happen whenever she drinks. "Alphard, you're the host, and mine, so I won't ask you something first." How's that for loyalty!?

"Douglas!" Andromena points at the Scot, her other hand holds her glass high. "Stop- stop drinking it already. I am going to ask you a question now. Okay? No, that isn't the question - this is: would you be okay with Medusa bringing another man into the mix?" Someone doesn't ask safe questions when they're getting sloshed.

"Yes." Morgana says looking at her cup, and laughs when it fills up. "This is facinating!" Spotting the late commers she'll raise her brow. "Silas! Come sit with us! You are far to sober to be in this room! I promise the booze is top shelf this time!" Well, it was. Looking to Douglas she'll smirk. "We need to get this in our flat, we won't have to buy booze."

"No, no. You ask to the whole table the question! If it's just one on one fewer people get to drink!" Alphard told Andromena. "So the more proper thing to ask would be: 'Is anyone okay with.. I guess.. bringing another man into the mix'! Or something like that."

The point was to get as many people drunk as possible. Alphard had thought this through.

"Oh," Andromena said, looking abashed. "Let me ask again?"

"Go for it."

Douglas shakes his head firmly. "Anyway, I am not okay with that," he announces solemnly. "Unless they're just making the drinks or something, I guess. I don't want to duel wands, thanks!"

"Would you let your partner bring in another person to the ~bedroom~?" Now asked to the whole table. She hadn't the time or inclination to invent another question.

"Yes well your bloody face would look excellent on this floor," Ria frowns at Douglas, taking sip of her drink even though she's not supposed to. But who cares. Turning over to the new enterees, she spots a Jenny, and grabs a magical cup for her. "Genevieve. Genevieve darling. Come join!" It's more of an order than an invitation really.

"Uh?" Lucinda chirps into her still full glass then there is another out of place giggle from the girl. She looks up, beaming with drunken fascination at the feat. There she sits, quietly the youngest in the room. Perhaps of outta place but seemingly right at home amoung her pure-blooded peers. Her eyes dance over the new faces and then back across the banter of the older students. She seems to follow the conversation from a dreamy place. The airy fabric of her dress done in gossamer layers that float lightly; fading through iridescent hues of green.

So..Alphard just thought he saw someone who looked like Jenny, but obviously it wasn't her.

"I wouldn't anyway," declares Medusa. She leans against her kilted boyfriend. "Once you go Scots you never go back," she says. Eyeing her cup she asks, "So what do I do now? Do I drink? Do I not drink? I mean, I know my answer is no."

"Only drink if you say the Y word."

Ria also briefly adds, "No. Absolutely not." There's a definitiveness in that.

Douglas looks Medusa over, amused. "I would," he tells her, drinking from the cup, "if you put it like that. Just not another bloke is all. I mean, come on, think about it. You. Me. Rashley. Or… y'know. Jo Sykes. Come on, you can't tell me you'd turn that down. It'd be awesome."

"That's my sister you arse!" Ria cries from her couch.

Morgana doesn't say a word, she just drinks from her cup since it already had booze in it from when the game started.

Silas is passed a cup as he approaches at Morgana's insistence. Not seeing Jenny about, despite being told to meet her here, that pretty much makes Morgana Silas' only anchor, so yes… he'll join her. So while he finishes off the initial glass as instructed, it stays empty at the first question.

"You drink to empty the glass. Then if you say the Y word it'll refill, and you have to drink again. See? Everybody drinks at least once every round!" Alphard clarified. He also squinted down at his empty cup as he considered the question posed. There was the polite answer, then there was the, "I'm with Douglas on this. Yes. As long as it's not a bloke.." and he nipped the cup as soon as it refilled.

Since Ria had sat down next to Andromena.. it was her turn to ask a question to the table!

"Huh." Edgar glances sidelong at Lucinda before advising, with a murmur, "Just disregard all of it. And slow down on the drinking. You keep saying one more and it's adding up." This said, he watches when Douglas makes that mention and Ria interjects. He eyes Morgana briefly when she drinks from the cup. He smirks at that. Seems like he skips on the drinking for that first question though.

"Uhm…no," states Medusa emphatically. "I've already had enough Sykes' touching me up, I don't need another and especially not one with…" realising she said something she shouldn't she sips her drink, not because she fancies Morgana or Jocunda Sykes, however.

Andromena eyed Alphard. It's not an angry or critical look so much as a thoughtful one. If he can be honest, she can be, too. "Yes," and the glass is refilled, and then downed! No one ever said she had to specify if she meant ladies or gents. However, as she drapes her arm around Ria's shoulders, there is a very smug expression to be seen.

Ria opens her mouth to rage against the Medusa. All this talk of her siblings is unsettling her. And then suddenly, Andromena pulls her into a side hug, and being a little silly as she is Ria goes along with it, completely missing out on Mena's answer and her manly gulping. Pursing her lips in an almost kissy like manner at her Ravenclaw friend she asks, "Is it my turn then? Very well…" She scratches her chin to think of a question.

"For 500 Galleons, would you make out with someone else in this room right in front of everyone? They'd have to be the same sex as you of course."

Lucinda looks over curtly at Edgar when he tells her to slow down, the sour puss on her face is blatant. "What?" She asks of him, knitting her brows down a bit in annoyance. She was definitly a little drunk but not knee deep in sloppy yet. "I feel great." She corrects of the boy, shaking her head and rolling her eyes as she looked off across the gathering. Still smiling she does not sip of her drink but also doesn't look back in Edgar's direction for some time. To the game she wrinkles her nose. "That's prostitution." The young pure blood mutters with mild disdain but still amused. It worth to note she spoke very softly, not wanting to stand out to the group at large.

"It's not prostitution unless it goes in," a boy replies to Lucinda across the room.

Alphard gave Andromena a peculiar look, obviously not having expected that answer. Drunk teenage brain was slowly working out the possible ramifications, and whether he should be outraged or intrigued. So far, no decision made.

"That's a decent lump of gold.. but these lips are worth more than all the gold in the world!" So that was a no.

Rather than say no immediately as she did before Medusa grins slyly and asks for clarification, "Define /make out/, Ria. I mean, would I snog you for five-hundred galleons? Sure. Would I roll around on the floor naked apart from massage oil? No, regardless of how many times Douglas or Alphard begged for it."

"Absolutely, aye and aye again," Douglas insists, giving a firm nod. "Yes," he adds for the benefit of his cup as he drains it once and lets it refill to drain again. "I'm not proud, and 500 galleons would be enough to buy us a house outright with the rest of our savings. Who am I snogging? And I want the cash up front."

Andromena meets the look. He said yes and she didn't get her precious little knickers in a twist. Yet, as Ria asks her question, Andromena very firmly says, "No." But she's still hot her arm around Ria. In fact, she looks like she might just stay there until Alphard commands her otherwise. "Snogging for money isn't all that interesting to me. But I see your point, Douglas."

"Snog as in a good, hearty French kiss for at least one minutes," Ria clarifies.

"Snog Rousseau!" Someone shouts, for MacMillan.

Silas pauses, and for a moment, he looks directly at Ria. There's something of a quirk to his lips there. And then Alphard answers. Recalling a previous dare, he looks at Ria, raising his empty glass. "Guess you finally have your answer, no?" His cup remains untouched. How boring.

"Well if that's it." Morgana says, looking down at her cup. "Yes." She says with a smirk and emptying her flass. "That would pay for me to go to Itlay, more than once." Looking at Silas she'll shake her head. "You're no fun."

"Rousseau would fucking love it!" Douglas calls back with a grin, arm tightening nonetheless around Medusa.

"Aww you'd snog a bloke for me? That's the most romantic thing ever," Medusa drapes her arm around Douglas, beaming at him, "I'd snog a girl for you too." Which clearly means yes, and just to be sure she declares it, "Yes," before draining her cup. "He would, he has those pouty French lips." Looking around she wonders who gets to ask the next question.

The next one goes to.. Douglas.

Ria returns Silas' gaze with narrowed eyes and a smirk. "Is that a no Meliflua? That's 500 Galleons!" She tuts and shakes her head, "I'm with Macmillan, I'd do it in a heartbeat!" That's a yes! Her cup runneth over and with that she gulps half her cup like a true lady, and cuddles up on Andromena's shoulder because Ria is apparently the cuddly drunk kind.

And after Douglas.. Medusa, Morgana, Silas, Edgar and Lucinda! And lastly Alphard, since he was on the other side of Andromena.

"Nah. Not really," Edgar replies, late to the races as he is. "Tempting as 500 galleons are, I'm with Alphard on this."

Douglas nods in agreement. "Well, aye, y'know what the French are like. And then he'd probably give me a marriage proposal and declare his undying love, too. You know what Gus is like." He shrugs a shoulder, and then it's his turn and he gestures to himself with his cup. "Me? Um.. right… Drink if you've been caught having a sly five finger shuffle when you thought nobody was around."

Andromena says, "I don't know what that means."

Snickering Medusa muses, "I wonder if Alphard would if it were Lucian?" Shaking her hair out she preens. "Captain Floppyhair. Whoever ends up with him had better lock their hairbrush away or else he'll spend all night using it on himself." Squinting an eye shut, Medusa asks, "Is that about knicking things or wanking?" Her gaze drifts over to Ria, who is known to have a bed one away from her own.

"I guess you'll have to keep dreaming, Ria," Alphard said, remembering that one little sly comment from before. "What, wait.." Lucian?! The look he sent Medusa was part thunderclouds and part incredilous laughter. Subconciously he made a little flop of his hair. It was sort of.. messily floppish. In a rougher darker way. "It's Douglas, of course he means wanking."

"Having a wank," Douglas clarifies, rolling his eyes at the sea of blank faces. "Y'know. Tugging one off."

Andromena had completely assumed Douglas was talking about yawning, but when Medusa mentioned wanking…well, she began to get it even before Alphard and Douglas give her the answer straight. Her nose wrinkles, and she doesn't drink this round, either.

Alphard grimaced, looking down at his empty cup. It stayed empty. "Of course not," he said with an annoyed sniff. "Though you wouldn't be- actually I'm pretty sure you would, Douglas. But some people do not understand that dorms are not their private bloody bedroom."

Alphard blinked. "Wait, that came out wrong." The amount of booze was showing. "I meant, what did I mean? I meant something. About you probably wanking off all the time and not caring about other people's right to not have to walk in on you. Just like some of the bloody bastards in Slytherin."

Silas looks back at Morgana, and tries to offer at least a partial smile, "It would have to be at least a thousand. A young man has to have his limits, after all." He says it with a look askance at Ria, letting his voice carry, before leaning back on the couch. Until Douglas makes his quip, and Silas breaks right into French himself, "<Hey now! And what, exactly, are they like?>" And then the question, he actually shakes his head, "And right about now I'm quite happy with being 'no fun', I think, Morgana."

Morgana snickers and shakes her head. "Nope." There is a sly smirk on her lips. "I have never been caught doing such things. So don't you even think about it Douglas." She says, pointing her finger in his general direction, because he has seemed to duplicate himself some how. There are two of him! "Hey, that's not English, you could be talking bad about me.. or admitting you've bee caught." She says, smiling innocently.

This is when Lucinda's superior gaze, drunk and amused cuts back to Edgar. Watching the other boys, she looks around listening but not drinking herself. Not only did it not apply to the quiet girl but she was teetering on the brink of overwhelmed by both conversation and drink. It all translates as a blush and grin; she's holding her own. Not saying much as she tried to focus on the game without giggling constantly.

"God, MacMillan," Edgar almost does what one might consider to be a facepalm at that question. On to the answer! "No, not at all. /That/ would definitely be awkward. Besides, when you're up to that, it's generally in your interest not to get caught."

Ria considers the pairing. Alphard? Lucian? Why have one hot guy snog you when you can watch two hot guys snog each other? She hardly looks averse to it. At Douglas' question, she frowns at Medusa's look toward her. "Absolutely not! Girls don't do that sort of thing anyway," Ria sticks her chin proudly in the air at the Malfoy girl, "Though your cousin Beatrice makes odd noises at night." At that 'no', her cup remain, but after somewhat admitting to hearing Beatrice perhaps touch herself in the evenings, she kinda wishes she did have something to drink.

Her cup remains empty

Douglas just grins as he drinks from his cup. "Oh, come on, Black. If you seriously think we're spending seven years stuck at fucking Hogwarts and never once having a crafty fumble at night, you're just naive. Everyone knows if you don't let it out, it'll dry up and shrivel up, anyway, and then where'd you be, eh?"

Medusa looks at Douglas and then at her cup and then just drinks after muttering a, "Yes," followed by a "Sodding Beatrice." Unable to look at anything but the boy upon who's lap she is sitting, mainly because her face is now as red as Ria's dress, Medusa snorts a laugh.

"But the question was if you've been caught!" Oh Meanie. Defend your boyfriend.

Without even hearring Medusa, Ria too drunkenly cuddles in the crook of Mena's arm while muttering, "Sodding Beatrice."

"It doesn't shrivel up," Alphard asserted, even if he sounded somewhat uncertain about that claim. Which was why he hastily added; "Besides, like she said, the question was about getting caught! And anyone who fumbles them-" he didn't continue, just snorted out a sudden laugh at the 'sodding Beatrice'. In what had become an automatic response he went: "She's not so bad." He had been attached to her for a while. for all her flaws, that obviously made her someone good!

Andromena, with Ria in tow, slides in a 'I think I am being sneaky' but totally is not, manner over to Alphard. So that she can cuddle him. Even if he was talking about his stupid ex-marshmellow. "Now it's Medusa's turn!"

Silas chuckles at Morgana as he reacts to his French, deciding to play with her while the others continue on with the conversation at hand. With another smile, he quips again in French, "<Then you really should learn the language, or I might just take to calling you something severly silly, like froglegs.>"

When someone points out it is her turn, Medusa tears her attention slowly away from Douglas' safe and familiar visage. "Uhm….drink if you have ever fancied someone in this room who is not currently dating you."

"<If you two are going to flirt, at least have some more to drink>" Ria calls to Silas and Morgana in her own subpar French. Her accent was already not that great, but the slight slur to her words seemed to make it better than usual.

Douglas lifts his cup towards Medusa, shrugging helplessly and giving her a guilty grin as he drains it, murmurs a quiet, "yes," and then knocks it back again. "If I'm honest… most of the people in this room. Well, the ones with boobies. I leave the ones with boabies to Thad."

Alphard opened his arm and allowed Andromena in, since she seemed very intent on making sure that no more thoughts lingered on his ex-Marshmellow Nott. A lazy little smooch planted itself against her cheek, before he sank back into the sofa again with a happy yawn.

"Yes." A question to let him drink again. The potent brew went straight to his belly. It was the sort of punch that teenagers were wont to make. The kind that got you drunk faster than you ever expected."

Morgana narrows her eyes at Silas as he continues on in that infernal language. "You know, two can play at this game." Of course Ria starts talking French, and she decides to add in the only other language she knows, Italian. <"Perhaps you are actually too chicken to agree to every question that comes along, so you're refraining from drinking."> However at Medusa's question, she'll actually take a second to look about the room than leave her cup where it is. Smirking at Black however, that hopefully gets across to his head that no, she never, ever, ever, fancied him.

Alphard gave Morgana a sceptical 'liar, liar, pants on fire' look. Then eyerolled.

For this one Lucinda has no remark but she does finally drink, taking time to finish her glass with a girlish determination. There is a pause for air part way through. When she lowers the glass she still says nothing, smiling and swallowing her words quietly. She doesn't look around much, pretending instead to be curious about the glass as it refilled with a quiet yes.

Medusa lightly pats Douglas' arm as it rests around her waist. "I expected you to drink, Douglas." She knows him well enough by now. Her own cup however, remains untouched. "Well done, Slughorn."

Oh, that question. Medusa actually gets the tiniest bit of a glare from Silas for it. And so, with a "Marde. Oui." The boy downs his glass quickly. Morgana will go unanswered for now, as well as Ria's teasing. Instead, he grumps a bit, leaning back on the couch with what might even be something of a frown.

Ria narrows her eyes too at Morgana. But not in scorn. Just confusion at the crazy passionate language that came out of her mouth. She doesn't understand a word. "Sure whatever," she says to MOrgana clueslessly and slips her own drink down quick and fast so that no one suspects that's she's drinking as a yes to the general question asked.

Andromena drinks as well, just after she answers with a, "Yes." Being quiet and introverted did not mean she was also an emotionless robot! Plus, it was two rounds now without a drink. Maybe earlier that day she had been a complete and utter killjoy and said she'd not drink all that much…but as with the nature of booze: 'a few more never hurt anybody' mentality quickly came into play.

"I'm stealing this question!" Alphard declared, because he had just come up with one. "Has any of you fancied any of the Hogwarts professors or staff?"

"Oh, aye. Pringle," Douglas deadpans, rolling his eyes. "I can't get enough of the man."

"Duh, Alphard," Andromena quipped. "Everyone knows ALL the girls want a tumble with Kettleburn." There is eyebrow waggling. "Why else does he get knickers on his birthday?"

"Why do you think I added staff rather than just Professors, Douglas?" Alphard asked with a smirk. "Not yours, I hope." That to Meanie.

"No," Andromena answered Alphard. Then leaned into whisper. Something salacious, no doubt.

"It's true!" Medusa nods her blonde head in agreement with Andromena. "All those knickers and sweets. He has that whole rugged thing going for him. You just know he'd be /very/ good with his wand." And so for her it is bottoms up. She did take Magical Creatures for several years afterall.

Morgana raises her brows at Silas and chuckles. "You know I am so going to ask you about that later." Typically she doesn't press people for information "Damn, I can't say no to that.. I'd have Kettleburn, if the situation was right." Though she did not send him knickers. However she does drink.

While Edgar drinks to the question before the one about the faculty, he doesn't drink to the latest. "Not one woman in the faculty draws my eye, so no."

"Ugh. Kettleburn. Yes, yes, yes," Ria inhales and deeply sighs. She's said yes so much that her cup has filled three times over and she's currently spilling on her dress. She stands up with an eeeeek and whines slightly, "Oh my satin!" And to drown in her sorrows over a sullied dress she downs her over flowing cup. To Kettlburn!

"To Kettleburn!" And Andromena drinks.

Douglas raises a brow at Medusa. "So. Rugged, outdoors types, eh?"

Silas looks at Morgana, and rolls his eyes, "My lips, as they say, are quite sealed." And again, no smile. At least the next question doesn't lead him to have to drink.

It is now Morgana's turn to question the assembled drunken host.

"Yes, as opposed to skirted scotsmen," Ria pauses from her gulping to address Douglas before topping off her drink completely.

"Of course," grins Medusa. "Why else do you think I like dragging you under the stands after you've been running?" She leans in towards Douglas as if she might kiss him only to burp drunkenly instead. "Oh!" Medusa starts giggling, but at least covers her mouth.

"Oh, well I guess that's me now." Morgana says, smiling innocently at Silas as he calls her out. "Let's see…" Morgana says, tapping her finger on her red lips. "Would you, if the weather was right, have your way with someone, under the bleachers, during a Quidditch game?" She says, looking around for the group.

Lucinda gets up and slips away, muttering some about the lavatory. She doesn't look like she is gonna be ill but she walks off quickly.

"My shorts?" Douglas suggests, waggling his brows, but then she burps in his face and he pulls way with a look of disgust. "Oh, classy. Nice. See, Sykes, this is what I have to put up with. I wear the skirt so at least one of us can be ladylike." He leans to one side, calling over to Morgana, "Wait, define 'have your way'. I mean, are we talking snogging or shagging here? And if it's shagging, it totally depends on whose stand it is and how loud they cheer." Giving away Medusa's not-so-secrets.

Ria quirks a brow at Douglas and smirks, "Between you and Medusa? You're definitely the lady Douglas." And with that she flops back down on the couch next to Mena.

"Have your way, meaning you have your way. Be it snog or shag. I thought I didn't need to be your imagination as well as offer the question." Morgana teases Douglas.

No longer burping, Medusa is now hiccuping. "Tha-tha-that's okay Ria. Lu-Lu-Lucian wash," here comes the slurring, "wash…was the girl whe-when you two were together." Such is her defense of Douglas. "I'd snog someone, sh-shure. Sh-shag? No."

Andromena is okay with being warm and snuggly, because she's not at all sober any more. In fact, she's borderline drowsy. Which means she should either slink off and be boring OR drink more. This is the party of the year. She's definitely not going to sleep without a fight. "Is it even comfortable under the bleachers?" No, she'd never do such illicit things in a place like that. But a snog would probably be okay. Still, for Andromena, 'have your way' was definitely more than a snog. So she didn't drink.

The quiet ones are the worst. Edgar simply drinks, listening to the conversation and refusing to add to it. This is, what, his ninth brandy now? Counting with those before the drinking game, that is.

Still quite sober, Silas looks at his cup at the next question. Oddly enough, it's almost as if he's angry with it, now. But… truth? "Yes," is offered again, and he downs his drink, his second.

Ria giggles at Medusa's reply, snorting a couple times as she too sleepily leans against Androment. "Of course he was. Have you seen his hair? It's beautiful, no woman can compete with that!" The words slur more and more as she goes on. "What was the question again? Bleachers? Sure," she shrugs apathetically and swallows the drink whole. In truth, Ria didn't really hear Morgana's full question. She just wanted another taste of this stuff. It's delicious.

"As long as I'm not playing at the time, I'm up for it," Douglas tells Medusa amiably, the hands settled about her waist beginning to bunch up the fabric of her frock as best he can. Not an easy task when she's sitting on most of it, but little things like that are ignored after enough to drink. He lowers his voice, adding, "How about in a room at a mate's party, while the rest of 'em are playing daft games, though?"

Morgana claps at Silas as he finally drinks, and her cup fills up as well, though she won't let it go further than that. "See! That wasn't so hard. So now, it's your questions." Laughing at Douglas she'll shake her head. "You like having that breeze up your legs Douglas, that's why you wear the skirt."

Now it's Silas, then Edgar, then Lucinda.

Medusa wobbles onto her feet, slapping Douglas' hand away from the hem of her dress. She giggles at him and heads off, deciding that she's had enough to drink. Nothing at all is subtle about the way the Malfoy sneaks off with the bekilted Scot, doing just as he suggested and leaving everyone else to play their drinking game while they amuse themselves in one of the smaller and more intimate rooms Alphard had so kindly arranged.

Andromena. She's looking at Silas, and she's looking at Edgar, and she just knows…in that drunken preternaturally way…that they are not as drunk as she. It must change. In that instant, it is her fucking mission to see the two Slytherins get blitzed. Look out, world, Meanie has taken over. Despite her intoxicated state, there is a fierce and sudden gleam in her eyes - glassy eyes. If it meant taking questions from the others she would weasel and finaggle until they had questions no one could say no to, not even Silas Meliflua.

But first, the man must ask his own question, because really, Andromena is curious.

Silas, ever the thoughtful one, or at least the brooding one, looks over at Morgana for a moment again. He's dreaded the moment he would be called… his own relative nature of being 'no fun' certainly something to consider here. His cup spins in his fingers for a bit as he considers, even standing up from the couch to spread the time a wee bit more, "Well, the best I can think of here, since I assume we're supposed to ask based on our own experiences," A pointed, and suggestive glare goes to Morgana then, "Who here," he draws it out even more, "would consent to be mauled under the mistletoe by a complete stranger twice their age… bonus points if there was an Auror in the house to boot."

"Mauled?" Edgar gives Silas a blank stare, and he's holding his glass waiting for something particularly amusing and now this. "Be more clear about what you mean, Meliflua. What is 'mauled' an euphemism for?"

Silas laughs, "I'll let you use your own imagination for that, Edgar."

Morgana thinks it over for several moments, looking down at her cup, before she smirks. "You know, I think Kettleburn is twice my age, so.. Yes!" Always back to that professor. "And no Si, they don't have to be based on experiences, because I haven't had my way with anyone during a Quidditch game."

"Merlin's beard, absolutely," there's no hesitancy for Ria on this matter. Her cup fills up again and she takes a hefty swig before deciding her shoes hurt her feet and she reaches down under the striking red material of her skirt to undo the straps. "You know how difficult it was apprenticing under Cassius Malfoy for an entire summer." She looks up to see if Medusa heard that, as vengeance for talking about sexualizing her own siblings earlier. But the bloody gorgon is gone. "Mena … Macmillan and Malfoy? Where did they go?" Ria was so sloshed that she didn't even notice them leave. She finished the rest of her drink.

Lucinda comes back to the gathering looking a little toasty. Perhaps a little ill, it's hard to tell since her smile is gone she just looks her old brooding self once more. The girl takes a sear near Edgar, not reaching for a cup. She smiles vacantly, a tich too drunk to keep up with the game the old kids played. Probably didn't help that her light vegetarian dinner was long gone and no good at absorbing copious amounts of punch from her thin body. Kinda out of it but still here she wonders, "WhatdImiss?" Trying to appear put together but coming off goofy as she pushed a strand of hair back out of her face.

Andromena does not look amused at Silas' question, nor does she drink. Maybe the decidedly vicious looking expression that's taken residence upon her otherwise pretty features is just an animated version of her regular thinking face. Hey, word around Hogwarts had always been that she stalked the halls looking like quite the fierce tigress. "Not I," she answers. And all this after cheering about Kettleburn, too. Whatever!

Andromena is pulled from her brooding by Ria. "Huh- uhm…" She looks around. "Where DID they go?"

"They left. And sure, I suppose being 'mauled' under a mistletoe is valid. Who cares if someone is watching." Edgar drinks from the cup before grinning towards Lucinda. "Welcome back, Slughorn!"

"If I have to explain to any of you where two drunken teenagers have gone, at a party, than I think all is lost." Morgana says, shaking her head at the group while she waits for the next question.

"Hee..eey.." Cinda says weakly with a little wave. "Welcome back." She echoes then wrinkles her nose and laughs at herself. "I mean thank you." Is chirped sing-songey to Edgar. She shifts in her seat, settling down and getting comfy. Not paying the game much more mind that a few cursory glances, drunken tunnel vision right now made not falling her main focus.

Ria tilts her head at Edgar. "They … left?" And then a look of horror when Morgana explains fully. "Ugh … no class. No class at all," she frowns, dropping her head again on Mena's shoulder. This of course is coming from the prude. "Wherever they went, it'll have to be burned and rebuilt. Right Alphard?" They haven't heard from the boy in a while. What's up with him?

Edgar, you're up.

Silas offers another slight smile at Morgana, teasing now, "You can deny it all you want. The secret's out now." Of course, the reactions to his question offset Silas just a bit, enough that the smile dissipates once more.

"Have you snogged with someone who was dating someone else at the time?" Edgar asks, as that's probably the most… thought-provoking question to be asked presently.

"Hey now, hey now…" Andromena holds up her hand to Morgana in Ria defense. "We might know WHY they've gone, it's just the where that's a conun- conun- that's being asked." Even Andromena's big words have failed her. Alphard still has his arm slung over her shoulder, and he's breathing. His eyes are just barely open. That counts as conscious, doesn't it? Well, so long as he's keeping her warm, it's good enough for Meanie.

"UGH," Andromena grumps at Edgar. Thought-provoking or not, she has to say, "No." And thus not get to drink again.

"Well then, what does that say about you Silas?" Morgana teases right back and when the next question is asked she thinks it over. "Ah.. Nope! We snogged than Quinn got back with his ex, so I'm in the clear." There may be a curse under her breath however as she moves to drink from her empty glass, only to dismay at it being empty.

Someone pushes the drink left behind by Medusa toward Morgana.

And that's the one that pretty much breaks Silas. The one question he really didn't want to think about, in part considering his invite was due to someone who wasn't here. Silas says nothing, other than a barely audible yes, takes yet another drink, and eyes the nearest exit. He then looks to Morgana, "I think it says it's about time for me to leave, actually." There's a twitch to his lip, and the boy excuses himself, bowing slightly, not even willing to wait for the next question before he simply turns to walk away. They can assume he's drunk… but the boy simply could not to stay after that one.

"I daresay I wouldn't do something so crass," Ria frowns, eyes quite shut as she forces herself upon the Mena, Alphard cuddle party. They will include her! They must!

Drunk as she was, Andromena is still the hostess. When Silas excuses himself, no matter her personal feelings, she bids him farewell. With some modicum of decorm she even manages, "Thank you again for coming, Meliflua. We are so glad you could make it."

"Sorry, Meliflua, I didn't mean to strike any chords," Edgar comments before lifting his glass to the man ina farewell, but not drinking from it either. So for all that he's asked the question, /he/ didn't do it. "I guess it's on you now, Andromena."

"Alas, not yet my fine feathered friend," she chides Edgar. "It is…Lucinda's turn."

Lucinda doesn't have a cup but she shrugs with a comical indifference. Laughing lightly to curtail the gesture. "I don't have a cup. Don't need one." She mutter chuckles and then lets her hands falls back to her lap. She's smiling but she looks out of it now… not even bothering to drink further. Slowly the people left start to turn to look at her as it becomes her turn to ask. It's not fear but confusion that looks very similar to fear which flood her face. "I don't wanna come up with a question. I'm not good at this stuff, mine would be like have you ever cheated on a test or or or… ooh… have you ever ratted on a friend?" She decides, growing smug and drunk. Nodding, looking around with brows raised to see who drank. "To a teacher, lover, whatever." She waves an arm.

"Cheated on a test? No." Because Andromena was a Ravenclaw. Of course she would never cheat on a test. Backstab her peers? Yes. "Ratted on a friend…" That required some bleary recollection, but in the end, also, "No."

Morgana watches as Silas takes his drink and gets up from his seat and goes toward the door. "Silas, wait!" He isn't drunk enough and he's leaving the party! "You can't leave yet!" However it seems the Slytherin boy has already slipped away, and she will at least attempt to follow him.

Ria doesn't speak. She has her eyes closed, but she listening. As a Slytherin, Lucinda would likely know her prefects answer to both these questions. She takes a final sip of her drink in confirmation, before slouching against Mena. Her breathing slows. She's soon fast asleep. And Andromena will find herself surrounded by two sleeping snakes.

The party draws to its inevitable close as alcohol takes its toll upon those that are hardly professional drunkards.

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