What Happens At The Party... (RSVP only) *KEEP*

[Kalaira Darus]

"Such language, miss Darus!" He tried, but when she just slammed her hand down on the bar, he decided that perhaps joking was not the best way of handling this. "Calm down, K. It's really not our place to act. It's Brody's own decision, and if he wants to be hurt by that Slytherin, then we can't do anything about it. I know it hurts." He quietly said, wrapping an arm around her back. "But hey, you know you're better than her, and that's something. And I mean, just look at her shoes." Cain tried, wrinkling his nose slightly. He was not all that good at comforting people.

Faith giggled, looking at the strappy shoes with crazy high heels the girl was wearing. "Geez," Faith admonished, "I don't even know how she could walk in those things. Maybe she'll fall...or maybe we could make her fall..." Faith laughed, surprised at her own response. She meant it as a joke, of course, she would never do such a thing in real life; but she was quickly realizing that even though she'd only just met Cain, Jarrod, and Kalaira, she'd probably do almost anything to defend them.

Sighing, Kalaira leaned into Cain's hug, "I know...but I can't help the jealousy that rears its ugly head...by the name of Sasha Sharpe." Kalaira closed her eyes as she rested her head against Cains, and as a single tear trickled down her cheek she whispered softly, "I love him."

Smiling a sad smile at Faiths comment Kalaira glanced at her new friend, "Thanks Faith. I appreciate the offer. I keep that in mind!"

Stepping away from Cain and wiping the tear from her cheek Kalaira couldn't help but look again at the dance floor and the hideous display of Sasha's attempted dancing, and noticed the two had parted. Kalaira's eyes locked with Brody's and after a moment he shot her a small smile. As he started to turn Kalaira reached out for him calling, "Brody!" as he simply walked out of the room.

[Cain Russel]

It was nice to know who his Secret Santa was, though it was undoubtedly a pretty awesome coincidence. At least now he knew who to thank for the gift, when he opened it. And Faith was nice, so he doubted there would be anything horrible. He was a prankster himself, after all, and just because he had decided to be nice this time did not mean that every other prankster had. "I'll go get it later. Thanks, Faith."

"I don't even know how she could walk in those things. Maybe she'll fall...or maybe we could make her fall..."

He was honestly surprised by Faith's comment. She seemed more like the girl who'd rather stay on the sidelines, but apparently first impressions could be wrong. And the fact that she seemed to care enough to help defend someone she had just met made him glad that they had started talking. Such friends were meant to be treasured, that was for sure. "I'd be game at that. Sneakily though, or I'm going to be in trouble with the other prefects." Cain said.

"I know...but I can't help the jealousy that rears its ugly head...by the name of Sasha Sharpe." Kalaira closed her eyes as she rested her head against Cains, and as a single tear trickled down her cheek she whispered softly, "I love him."

What exactly did you say to that? Again, he was not the best at comforting. He preferred a more straightforward way. Namely hexing the person who was the root of the problem, but hexing Brody would make Kalaria mad, and hexing the Head Girl was very unwise indeed. "I know hon, and really wish there was something I could do to help." He murmured, hugging her back and kissing her cheek lightly. Merlin, he hated when his friends were upset. Over the years, he had gotten used to protecting Jarrod and lately, Carmine, and that was something he liked doing. But Kalaria? She had always been so grown up and fine on her own, so seeing her upset was a bit harder.

"Brody!"

Oh gosh, this could not end well.

[Sasha Sharpe]

Sasha never ceased to be amazed at how willingly Brody swallowed anything she told him. He was a surprisingly intelligent boy, quick on his feet with a sharp wit and always good to work with in their increasingly complicated plots. He was perhaps the only person in her life that she could act like herself around. He could match her wit-for-wit; he wasn't stupid. But it seemed like whenever he was around her lately, his brain just fizzed to a stop, like it was doing now.

She smirked mildly as Brody squeezed her hand, winked, and sauntered off towards the door. Still, she couldn't complain when he had occasional bouts of stupid. It let her get away with plans like this. If he were thinking, he might have figured out exactly what she was doing.

As it stood, his departure gave her the perfect opening to slip over to the Secret Santa gift table. They had known for weeks who their gift partners were, and Sasha knew that Brody would always go the extra mile to get a good gift for occasions like this. And yet he had remained curiously silent. That alone was enough to set off warning alarms in her head. There was something there that Brody didn't want her to see, and damned if she was going to let it stay that way.

Sasha glanced over the mountains of presents, hunting for the right one. When he'd come in, she'd seen him toss one onto the pile. Small, gold, and square, with a small white card on it. Where was it... Ah! She slipped the card open with her pinky finger. 'Kalaira' it said simply, written in Brody's patented scrawl.

For an instant, she swore she saw red. A white-hot poker of fire slid its way down her spine. She had to consciously fight the urge to crumple up the card in her hand then and there. His Secret Santa was Kalaira. The little bitch. He had shopped for a present for her, and that was why he hadn't told her?! Her eyes burned with sudden fire. This was completely unacceptable on every possible level. She wanted to stalk out and slap Brody, but the desire was only slightly trumped by the desperate need to see what it was Brody bought her.

She leaned against the table, pretending to watch a young Ravenclaw opening her gift a few feet away. Meanwhile, she subtly slipped out her wand and cut a slit in the wrapping paper. The box popped open easily, hidden behind the mountains of sparkling boxes and bags. And there it was, gleaming where it sat nestled on a layer of cotton, the golden ring. As swiftly as the fiery rage had descended on her, it was replaced by icy hatred. Oh, she remembered this ring. It was important to Kalaira. The bitch had thrown it back at Brody after their fight on the hill... and now he had given it back to her.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?!

She bit down a snarl, then snapped the box shut again. She ran her wand against the slit in the paper, and it healed itself without sign that it had ever been tampered with. She would have loved to toss the entire thing into the fire, but Brody would know if Kalaira never got the present. So she set it back on the table and turned. After taking a moment to regain her composure, she headed for the door after Brody, ice still trickling through her veins.

[Katya Dragomir]

"Hello Katya. How are you this fine evening?"

As Katya was waiting for Aro to prepare her drink, she was greeted by an almost familiar voice. Turning her side, she saw that it was Jasper. She stiffened for a very brief moment as she was caught off guard by his presence. The boy had a very strong presence. She gave a big grin as she recovered herself. "I'm quite well. I've just asked for a drink" she replied and shook her head once to the side, gesturing to Aro.

She felt like a little girl again. The thrill of being with someone you secretly admired all came rushing into her body. Whether she liked to admit or not, she seemed to have started to fall for Jasper little by little. However, she began mentally berating herself for such an inadequate reply to him. "It could have been better" was the line that repeated itself over and over again in her head. Feeling almost out of poise, it was good timing that Aro had just handed them their drinks. She gave him a quick nod, thanking him for her drink. She was one to be polite even when she is most frazzled.

She took a quick sip of the punch and its sweetness tickled her taste buds. As she swallowed it, she felt a little heat in her throat. "This is quite splendid. Your brother is an artist at what he does" she said, praising the youngest Pelletier. She took more sips and strangely enough, found herself liking the beverage and wanting more.

"And you? I hope you didn't have much trouble finding a present" she asked. Her glass was half empty by this time.

((OOC: I'm sorry this is very short, I'll make up for it!))

[Jacob Brant]

Jacob felt like he had been living in a cave. Ever since he'd found out about Luke's hidden love for Kendall, he had disappeared from the Hogwarts social world. He spent his nights and much of his days in the hospital wing with the only person who seemed to care about him - the man-nurse. He occasionally went to class and was managing to pass everything, if only by a little. He hadn't spoken to anyone in too long, and felt a party was certainly in order. He had heard through the grapevine that Kendall and Luke were now something of an item, and it sickened him. Not that he had genuine feelings for Kendall or anything. He just knew that if he saw them together he would feel the sting of guilt that haunted him for his hook-up with his best friend's girl. There was nothing worse, in Jacob's opinion, than feeling. All it did was hold him back.

But a party was something Jacob could not resist, no matter how hard he tried. The pull of a night that promised to be filled with bad decisions and drunken mistakes was an overpowering gravity. He knew Nora would be there, and she was always game for a good time, even after his error in judgement with her sister. He just had awful luck picking girls. Regardless of how awkward things had been between them since his fight with Luke, Nora had been the only person who had kept in contact with Jacob during his extended hospital stay. It was because of her friendship that Jacob felt even more compelled to go to the party. He owed her that much.

Jacob had common sense, but he didn't always use it. The party was one of those times. With way too much alcohol already in his system, Jacob stumbled towards the party with a poorly wrapped present in his hand. Inside the shabby package was a small wolf pendant carved out of bone that hung on a leather string between two blue beads. It was one of a set of three Jacob had. The second was around his neck and the third was in a chest in his room. Each wolf had minor differences as they were hand-carved by his grandmother, but besides that, the only difference was the colour of the beads. The one that hung around Jacob's neck had green beads, and the one in his room had yellow beads. The yellow one had belonged to his mother before she died, and she'd left it on Jacob's bed the day she had gone missing. The blue one had belonged to his brother Graham. Jacob had stolen it from Graham before his first year at Hogwarts, and now Graham was unable to ask for it back. These necklaces were a symbol of family. Because Jacob no longer considered his brother family, he'd felt it right to take the necklace. If he had the opportunity to take his fathers, he'd do it. But he only had his brother's and there was a good reason for him to be giving it away. Jacob's Secret Santa was Luke. Even though Luke currently hated him, he was more like a brother than Graham had ever been. Jacob knew if anyone had the right to wear Graham's necklace, it was Luke.

Jacob arrived at the party, his eyesight blurry and his movements unbalanced. He wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black blazer accessorized with a Burberry tie. He stumbled through the entrance way, grinning stupidly. After a few moments of searching, he saw Nora sitting by herself on a couch. He swaggered over to her, winking to a few hot Ravenclaws on his way. He sank into the seat beside her, throwing his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her towards him and planted a kiss on her cheek before pulling his flask out of the inside pocket of his blazer and taking a long swig.

"How you doin', baby?" he asked, laughing, as he hugged her with the arm that was around her shoulders.

[Lenore Pelletier]

As Lenore sipped on her drink that her brother had graciously spiked for her, without her knowledge, she noticed a very drunk Jacob Brant stumble into the party, drinking what seemed to be more alcohol from his hip flask. She smiled at the sight of him, but then immediately shook her smile away. There was no way in hell she was going to look like she was vulnerable in an environment like this, where bad decisions and stupidity bred. He looked unkempt, even though his clothes were quite nice (and these clothes managed to accentuate the best parts of his body, his abs, his toned arms, his broad shoulders). But the way he presented him was less than attractive. In fact, he reminded Lenore of the sleazy older men that hung around pubs in Knockturn Alley after hours that tried to prey on women, like her attractive mother. At least Jacob couldn't do any real harm here, he was in public and he knew well enough not to make a complete fool of himself.

She connected her eyes with his and he made his way over to her, on the couch. He plopped down and put his hand, instinctively, over her shoulder. She wasn't sure when the two of them had bridged the touchy-feely gap, but she was no longer uncomfortable with him putting his arm around her shoulder or hugging her. She could remember when she first met him, and she kept inching away from him thinking that he was going to violate her with the blink of an eye. She was about to put her head on his shoulder when she felt herself get pulled into a kiss on the cheek. Well this was out of character, wasn't it? She felt red going into her cheeks and took a drink from her cup. The drink went down her throat and she felt a little more at ease, instead of tensing up like she normally would.

"How you doin', baby?" he asked, laughing, as he hugged her with the arm that was around her shoulders.

Baby? Baby. He just called her baby. She knew it was some sort of slang that demonstrated his affection for her, but she was no baby of any sort. She particularly disliked the term "baby" because she overheard some muggle trash music by some muggle prepubescent boy named Justin Beaver in which the boy that sounded like a girl sang about his "baby". It made no sense to her, and she did not like being associated with an infant. But then Jacob was drunk, so she could leave it at that this once. She would have to remind herself not to let him call her that in the future... if she could remember it in the morning.

"I'm having fun now, seeing your drunk self here. How did you manage getting so drunk before anything fun has even happened?" She smiled playfully, letting him know that she was just joking. She finished her drink and felt a light buzz around her and was even more relaxed than she had been before. This was highly unlike her. But seeing that most people were trying to have a good time, she figured now would be an adequate time to join in on the festivities. "So, what do you wanna do? Dance, drink, send slipping spells at people dancing so they fall?" She ran her finger over the edge of her empty glass and looked blankly at the dance floor, which was beginning to fill up.

[Jacob Brant]

"I'm having fun now, seeing your drunk self here. How did you manage getting so drunk before anything fun has even happened?" She smiled playfully, letting him know that she was just joking.

Jacob laughed, putting his finger over Nora's lips as if trying to silence her.

"But that was the fun part! Hey, can I tell you a secret?" he asked, putting his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her head towards his. He didn't wait for an answer. "I'm really, really, really drunk. I drank a whole bunch of vodka and firewhisky and it tasted awesome," he tried to whisper, but seemed to forget how. "But shhhh! Don't tell, okay? Your hot sister might kick me out," he slurred, winking at her. He then frowned, realizing what he'd said. "I'm sorry...for the time I did all that stuff with your sister," he attempted to apologize, pulling her closer once again. He wasn't sure what he was saying, but he had the urge to say it anyways. There was something deep inside of him prompting him to apologize to Nora, even if he was too drunk to control his words. "I didn't want to...hurt your feelings or anything."

Though he wasn't thinking straight and he was stumbling over his words, Jacob truly was sorry. He didn't regret it - after all, Nora's sister was painfully hot. And he felt it was pointless to regret anything. What had been done had been done. He couldn't change it, so why regret it? But he did feel bad that Nora had been upset about it. She meant more to him than a quick lay, and that fact scared him a little. Nothing and no one had ever been so important to him besides Luke. He finally had something to lose, and it was terrifying. It frightened him, but he would never say it out loud. Jacob Brant wasn't supposed to feel anything, fear included.

"So, what do you wanna do? Dance, drink, send slipping spells at people dancing so they fall?"

Jacob appeared to ponder the question for a moment. He hadn't ever considered what to actually do once he arrived at the party. He hadn't planned past the getting wasted part. He took another long drink from his flask, squeezing the back of Nora's neck gently. Then he pulled himself up off the couch and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the dance floor. He stumbled for a moment, stopping with his free hand outstretched to regain his balance. He shook his head, letting his dizzy eyes focus before continuing out towards the middle of the dance floor. Once he got to the middle, he turned around to face Nora and pulled her close to him, his hands wrapped around her hips.

"I don't think I know how to dance," he told her, his trademark charming grin spread across his face. "Especially...'cause I can't really see...properly right now. Wanna teach me?" he asked her, wagging his eyebrows up and down suggestively as he began to sway back and forth to the music as best he could in his drunken stupor, pulling Lenore back and forth with him.