Chapter Nineteen

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Madness.

That's what the ball is — Absolute, terrific, and unquestionable madness. Or at least that's what it looks like inside Olympia's head, in reality though, the gala is a tremendous success.

For starters, the decor has left every single guest speechless — Herself included. The black and white chequered floors are sparkling clean, the high ceiling has a few thousand white roses charmed and glued to it, the gold chandeliers glint with the many candles they host, and the balcony doors leading to different areas of the garden are wide open while a transfigured old tent, that is now a gigantic glass dome, keeps the lingering guests by the pool dry.

There are also a dozen servers in black dress robes walking around the place with champagne trays resting high on their arms while people mingle and laugh in their expensive garments and detailed masks, faces half hidden from view.

The music is nice too, a mini orchestra of sorts with the piano, violin, harp, and cello.

Next to it, there's also a gift table that happens to be overflowing with a billion presents in all sizes and multicoloured foils — Some of the servers try to juggle the boxes so they don't fall and come crashing down against the ground.

So, if she has to be honest, Olympia thinks she might have gone a little bit overboard with calling the whole thing a disaster. But in her defence, she's exhausted and her feet hurt from having to run from one end of the room to the other — All to ensure she speaks to every guest. Otherwise, she'll have to endure a boring and awfully long lecture on what it takes to be a good host from Apollo himself.

She loves her grandfather, she really does.

Silver lining, however, is that she's wearing a pretty dress in majestic steel blue. Sure, the corset's boning is stiff and tight against her midriff and she can barely breath, but at least all eyes are on her. The top is a straight across cut and the skirt is long enough to reach the floor, it also has a right leg slit that shows pearl white scarpin heels. To top it all off, Olympia is wearing long sleeved gloves that stop three fingers above her elbows in the same hue as her dress — Not to mention all of her gliniting and lavish jewellery. 

Her mask also catches many stares. It's a mixture between steel blue, pearl white, and gold detailings with feathers and crystals on either side that make her jade green eyes all that more feline looking.

"Oh! And after the auction, the Ministry is hosting a dinner party to say goodbye to this year and welcome the next!" Cornelius' voice brings Olympia back to the present.

Things could be worse, she thinks while nodding somewhat dumbly to whatever the man before her is saying.

If she puts the whole fake smiling, sweaty handshakes, and boring politics talk affairs aside, her night hasn't been that bad at all. So far, she's catched up with the Malfoys, met Alessia Zabini's new boyfriend, shared a cigarette with Theodore in the empty balcony when she felt like hiding away for a second, engaged in conversation and danced with her grandfather, and downed several drinks.

Oh, drinks. Olympia closes her eyes in reverence. Merlin bless drinks. Especially since they happen to be the only thing keeping her from losing all restraints and smashing her head against the bar's counter her back is currently resting against.

Yes, Cornelius Fudge is an accomplished wizard that carries the title of Minister of Magic. In the eyes of most people, he is a strong, public figure that tries his best at keeping the wizarding community safe.

In Olympia's eyes, however, he's nothing more than a mediocre, money-rabid parasite she's yet to get rid off.

She doesn't like him much, but she pretends to. It's a common occurrence among purebloods, they all laugh and greet each other for hours before turning around to start badmouthing the people they've just shaked hands with.

AIANES (Theodore Nott) H.P AUWhere stories live. Discover now