(1940-05-01) Hogwarts May Day 1940
Details for Hogwart's May Day 1940
Summary: The students and faculty gather at Hogwarts for the crowning of the Queen of May, along with other strange and quintessentially English traditions.
Date: 1 May 1940
Location: Hogwart's Gardens

It's May Day! The traditional May Pole has been erected in the middle of the gardens, with its ribbons hanging down in the colors of the Hogwarts houses, and a few portable tables of refreshments have been set up (or conjured, in the case of the tables, though not the refreshments). Students and professors have already begun to gather and mingle.

May Day. Celebration.

Eibhlin shows up outside, with the weary look of a NEWT student with the damnable tests right around the corner. She rubs at her eye, stifling a yawn before she puts on her Head Girl party hat and fords out into the mingle-scene.

Madeline remembers last year. She remembers Mischief snatching up the crown. As a result, she's taken precautions. …she gave Mischief a letter just that morning, and sent the bird off to her parents' house near London. As a result, she's on her own as she skips out into the garden, going instantly to the table with the woven flower circlets to choose one for herself. She soon has two in hand, and is looking back and forth between the pair. Hmmm…

Abraxas is chatting with some of the other Slytherins, the girls having gone out early to fetch the May Dew - he was able to sleep in. He has a glass of pumpkin juice in his hand, and some of the other boys are getting their bells on, ready for the Morris Dancing.

By the time that Evie has arrived at the table with actual 'party hats' (so to speak), she finds herself beside Madeline. "'Llo, Maddie," she greets. There is a moment's consideration of the crowns, and she plucks up one with white and blue flowers for herself. She places it on her hair (which has been left down for the occasion) and turns to the Gryffindor. "What do you think?"

"It suits!" Madeline remarks happily. "This one has Gryffindor red and yellow," she remarks, showing one of the crowns she'd picked up. "But this one's prettier - don't think? Which one hould I wear?" The little lion is obviously torn.

Professor Whittle wanders over towards the table with a glass of something in his hand. "Oh, aye, if it isn't our May Queen. Well, Miss Shine, are ye ready tae take yer throne? As for yew, Miss Evans, why don't you just wear both?"

Eibhlin mulls over Maddie's question with due gravity. At length, the Ravenclaw speaks. "Well, consider that you wear the red and gold often, mo stor. May Day is a good day to break with the everyday and try something new." Then comes Whittle, and Eibhlin blinks. Owlishly. Someone clearly forgot about the May Queen thing.

"Oh. Right. Yes." Blink-blink. "Of course, Professor Whittle."

Samira wanders into the gardens, but pauses at the entrance. Hands clasped behind her back, she gazes at the May Pole with a curious tilt of her head. Her dark gaze drifts across the gathered students and teachers, observing this unfamiliar spring celebration.

"Both?" Madeline asks in surprise. "Could I really?" She seems to brighten at this notion. "Even though - you had a really good idea," she tells Eibhlin serious. She settles both into place on her head, then leans in towards the other girl to 'whisper,' "You know, if you don't want to do it, I'll take your place."

"Now, now, Miss Evans, I don't think you could manage to sit still and watch over the festival. You'd be up and dancing around the maypole, and that just will not do." Whittle says, before he takes a sip of what seems to be pumpkin juice. "Besides, it's the responsiblity of the Head Girl - consider it a perk of the job in four or five years." He gives her a wink, and then motions Eibhlin towards her garland-bedecked throne.

"Oh, now, Maddie," Eibhlin says with a chuckle. "I don't mind doing it. I just forgot." She gives Whittle a bit of a wry smile. "Too much studying, aye?" she asks. She takes Madeline's crowns and carefully places both of them on the girl's head. "There. Off with you, gerl." She touches the Second year's nose and turns to walk up to her throne.

Abraxas has thusfar avoided becoming garland-bedecked, though flowers seem to cover every amenable surface in the gardens. He's still chatting with a few of the other Slytherins, his robes pushed back and his hands in his trouser pockets.

Samira watches Ebihlin ascending a flowerful throne before slinking closer to Madeline and Professor Whittle. "She is the queen of spring?" she asks, glancing from one to the other. "Is Zayn the king?"

"Oh, I could do it!" Madeline insists firmly, flashing a broad smile as she adds, "I manage Professor Binns' classes, don't I?" She grins at her own cheek, and nods at Eibhlin, before whirling around with the intent to skip off through the crowd. "Samira! She is - sort of. And I suppose he is. Do they do this in Egypt? Here - you need flowers!" She takes the older girl by the hand, pulling her gently towards the table covered in floral circlets - which is little more than a step away. "There'll be dancing soon, you know."

Terrance made hsi way towards the gardens a bit after most have been taking part, arriving just to spot Ebihlin making her way up to the throne. Spotting Madeline, Samira and Professor Whittle all standing together he made his way to join. "So did I miss anything important?" he asked with a slight smile.

Samira allows the younger girl to tug her to the flowers. Interest sparks in her eyes at the mention of dancing. "Oh? What sort of dancing? And… we have a spring festival. It's called Sham Ennisim. But, it's in April." She glances to Terrance as he approaches, but doesn't respond. She has no idea if anything important has happened yet.

"We're just about to crown the may Queen, lad." Whittle says, "So we shouldn't keep our head girl from it. And there is no such thing as a May King."

"But there oughtta be! I think we should crown him," Maddie answers brightly. She digs through the garlands - looking for one she think will suit Samira - and offers her one all flaming reds and oranges with a questioning look. "Well, we'll dance around the Maypole, and there'll be Morris dancing of course. What do you do at, ummm, Shem Annest?"

At the news that he was in time for the crowning of the king, Terrance would give a light nod and move off to stand and watch. A wide grin on his lips as Madeline would attempt to keep the party growing with the decoration of the slytherin with a irclet of flowers. Then at the bit of coriwning a king, he couldnt help but laugh. He knew he would not be one to enjoy being decorated with flowers, no matter the occasion.

Samira tilts her head at Professor Whittle. "There isn't? Why not?" Madeline's attempt at pronouncing the Egyptian holiday draws a smile from Samira. "It's a day for picnics with special dishes in gardens or on the grass along the Nile." She eyes the offered red and orange flowers. "Is that one not supposed to be for Gryffindors?"

"Because the May Queen is the representation of Spring, after all." Whittle explains, "Dear me, have we all been so poorly taught?" He leads Eibhlin over to the big, garland-bedecked chair, and a truly enormous spray of magical flowers is planted on her head. "There!" he says, and starts the applause.

Eibhlin takes her seat on the throne and waits for the ceremonial stuff to happen. When Whittle plops a gigantic arrangement on her head, she looks up at it with some amusement. The amusement fades slightly as the applause begins, being a little embarassed by the focused attention. She rallies, however, and smiles cheerfully in appreciation.

"But… they're orange, not yellow," Madeline answers, looking at the flowers, then back at Samira. "I think it was sorta like flames. You don't think it suits? Umm… I think I saw some all green sprays with little white flowers?" But she doesn't sound at all excited about that notion.
Then quietly she adds,"Don't see why a King can't mean the same thing." More loudly she adds, "So what kind of things do you eat at the picnics? Scones with jam? Sandwiches?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake…" Whittle says, exasperated, "The Romans worshipped a goddess of fruit and flowers called Flora. Goddess. Female. This was her festival, lo those many years ago when it came to this rainy isle." He shakes his head, and then adds emphatically, "So, no king." Then he starts to clap again.

Samira turns to watch as Professor Whittle crowns the head girl with half a garden of flowers atop her head. With an amused grin, she claps with everyone else before looking to Madeline once more. Her mirth grows at Professor Whittle's exasperation before she answers little Madeline, " No. No scones or jam. We eat Feseekh." Though she pronounces the sound delicately, the "kh" still sounds as if she is clearing her throat. "It is… how to explain… It is fish, but salted and dried and… fermented. We also eat tirmis and… colored, boiled eggs."

The crowning is over. Now all Eibhlin has to do is sit there and observe her 'court'. So that's what she does. She sits, watches, and drinks punch. Because a pint of bitters is unfortunately out of the question right now.

"Yeah… but I'm not Roman," Madeline mutters. Then she starts to giggle. "This is probably what some of those purebloods always mean about us Muggleborns always trying to change things," she says brightly. "But I don't see why we gotta do things the exact same way as always."
She listens to the other girl's description of the holiday, then gets a thoughtful expression on her features. "Maybe I can go on a spring picnic with you sometimes. Maybe even in Egypt! That'd be nice, don't you think? Is there any dancing?"

Abraxas has drawn closer, and joins in the applause. He just rolls his eyes when he hears what Maddie has to say, and then comments, "Or we can just abandon traditions for no better reason than smashing things like children tossing baubles in the air to watch them smash."

Samira takes in Madeline's disregard for tradition with relaxed mirth. Her dark gaze flits to Abraxas as he speaks up. "There can be…" she responds quietly to Madeline. "But, it depends."

"You're good at insults, but maybe you lack imagination, Malfoy," Madeline answers cheerfully. "It'd be fun! I mean - it just doesn't seem much fair to me. There only being a Queen. But, well, it means I still get a chance, so I suppose it shouldn't matter to me." She sticks out her tongue playfully.

"Innovation can be either a good or bad thing, Evans. You should constrain your enthusiasm somewhat." Abraxas says, with a snort, and then offers a small plate towards Samira, "Turkish delight?" he offers, and then gives a nod, "Good day to you, Prince." Then back to Madeline, "Besides, the men do the dancing."

And sure enough, before where Eibhlin sits on the throne, the particularly English institution of Morris Dancing is going on, as students with knee bells and white sticks caper in intricate formations.

Samira steps closer to pluck a little cube of Turkish delight from his plate. "Thank you, Malfoy." Savoring the taste of the more familiar sweet, she glances over to where the students are beginning the peculiar festival dancing. Watching them, she licks the dusting of sugar from her fingertips.

"See - that's being unfair again. I wanna dance, too," Madeline mutters. She spins in place, then starts miming some of the movements - but of course, she doesn't have bells. "I need bells."

Samira smiles as she looks to Madeline. "You should go find some." Glancing up at Abraxas, she adds a bit more quietly, "Thank you for the Turkish delight." And with that, the girl slinks off.

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