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･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
AT EXACTLY EIGHT O'CLOCK ON THE TWENTIETH of December, Lydia can be found stowed away at Professor Slughorn's renowned and annual Christmas party.
If there is one thing Lydia has come to learn after her various invitations to dinner gatherings with the Slug Club, it is that the old man in question certainly knows how to throw a proper party. The celebration is in full swing from the moment she arrives, as other students in his club and past members with some sort of notoriety meander and mingle about already, a swell in the air full of blithe enchantment. It's punctuated by a mask of tranquilness as, outside the arched windows of the room, plump snowflakes fall from the night sky in an eloquent twirl and exerting a certain type of innocent glow on the dark world around the castle. Slughorn's office itself looks almost unrecognizable, and impossibly much grander than usual.
Champagne coloured gossamer hangings drape from the ceiling and down the walls, giving the illusion as if the partygoers found themselves in a tent. Red paper lanterns dangle in certain nooks and corners, shedding a muted red glow amongst the gold of the curtains, and making the billowing smoke from the pipes that a few of the past wizards from the Slug Club huff on a hazy shade of pink. In the very center of the tent is another lantern, in which dozens of real tiny fairies flutter about in dazzling specks of luminous light. A handful of house elves and a few other unfamiliar students from Hogwarts weave in and out of the thicket of bodies, carrying silver trays full of hors d'oeuvre, flute glasses filled to the brim with bubbly liquor, and glasses of mulled mead. Off in one corner of the room, amongst the chatter and laughter, is the sound of muted singing and the strumming of a mandolin, the dulcet chime of a piano, and other instruments to a soft and jazzy tune.
Lydia is met with James on the corner of the corridor leading towards Slughorn's office, though he catches her off guard as she leans casually against the wall for him. It had been his idea, after all, to appear together at the party, even if he had made Lydia wait approximately five minutes past eight. He comes skidding down the hall, his footsteps echoing around the vacant space and bouncing loudly off the stone walls.
"You're late," Lydia points out, though she isn't at all annoyed.
She finds it entirely amusing as he stops in front of her, breathless and panting, fixing the collar of his suit jacket and straightening out the material. If she's being honest, James Potter sure does clean up well. He looks rather handsome in the classic black and white dress robe, complete with a crisp white dress shirt and a fitting waistcoat. Granted, the only thing out of place is the undone tie around his neck that he fumbles to do into a bow.
