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http://isabellelfoudre.tumblr.com/paras
Either that or they’re all snogging in one broom closet. It seems unusually quiet for Beauxbatons.
Saphora, is it? I’m Isabelle.
Precisely, nice meeting you Isabelle!
And… yes. Broom closet…snogging…. I would know a pair to do that.
Nice meeting you too, Saphora.
Wouldn’t any pair do that?
Perhaps everyone went out for a..pretty long walk? I don’t have a clue.
Either that or they’re all snogging in one broom closet. It seems unusually quiet for Beauxbatons.
Saphora, is it? I’m Isabelle.
Julian heard the irritation in Isabelle’s voice and had to suppress a chuckle, but couldn’t keep a sly grin from appearing on his face. She was so easy to irritate and watching the results of his words wind her up was just too much fun to turn down.
“And since when practice is a synonym for skill? Let’s face it, Lafoudre. You only won because I let you win.” He removed his arm from his face putting both arms behind his neck, revealing silvery, sea foam colored eyes that looked glazed from his attempts to sleep. “But don’t worry, I don’t blame you. You just play for the wrong team.”
“Since practice enhances skill, Lambert,” she said, trying to smoothen her words and calm herself down. She could feel her irritation bubbling up inside her throat, ready to spew out at him. For her sake, though, she concentrated on trying to seem as calm and nonchalant as possible. This was almost impossible around Julian, though; everything about him made her want to explode.
She raised an eyebrow. “I play for the wrong team?” she questioned. She loved her team to bits, and although they were a rather dysfunctional group, Quidditch seemed to light all of their fires. They were fierce on the pitch, especially today.
“Well then, which team do you suppose I should play on?
Jade’s face painted itself red when Isabelle laughed, her ears perking up high and her tail stiffening. Jade lifted her hands to her face and laughed along, trying to shake off the fear that Isabelle disapproved. They laughs turned to little giggles at the compliment, easing back into a bit of relaxation.
“Thank you,” she murmured, smoothing out the fabric of her shirt. Her heart beat a little faster and she reminded herself that Isabelle said it was the best cat costume she’d seen. Thankfully, she picked up the punch and took a sip to calm herself.
The ball really was beautiful, everything she expected of Beauxbatons. Lavish and with every detail made right. Her attention was drawn back to Isabelle with the question.
“No, no one,” she shook her head and laughed. “I’m sure the boys have other tail to chase.” Her tail moved in the air, languid and calm. Jade was glad that everything had worked out so well. “And you? Why aren’t you with anyone?”
“I suppose,” she said. “Or maybe they’re just chasing their own tails, being boys.”
In all honesty, Isabelle had wanted somebody to ask her. What girl wouldn’t? Every girl dreamed of going to a beautiful ball, wearing a beautiful dress and dancing the night away with a handsome boy. She could see couples gliding across the dance floor, some looking as awkward as ever. Still, she felt a pang of jealousy whenever she looked at them. She sighed and chuckled, facing Jade.
“Are you joking?” she teased. “I’m not as friendly as you, Monet. I’m afraid the boys find me intimidating,” she added. “And not in a good way. Sometimes they just lose their temper altogether.” She thought of Julian when she said it, and his explosive temper. Rolling her eyes, she took another sip. She giggled inwardly, as Jade’s tail moved about with a life of it’s own.
Jade didn’t know where Evie had gone and worried a bit, but she didn’t let that stop her from going down to the ball. Her costume had been hard to get the finishing touches on and she felt almost ridiculous for picking such an obviously cliche costume. Her tail and ears were bewitched to move and she made sure the whiskers twitched at just the right times. As a witch now she felt the need to make her costume as intricate as possible and in the end she was happy with the result.
She slipped down to the ball and almost ran into a ballerina the moment she stepped in. Immediately, she was in awe at some of the costumes, especially the one right in front of her. It didn’t take a smart person to realize where the costume was fun, even if Jade hadn’t seen the ballet herself. Jade put a name to the face and immediately gushed, “You look amazing!”
Trying to contain herself, Jade clasped her hands behind her back and calmed her bouncing nerves. Had she not kept herself calm, she’d be bouncing off the walls with the rapid beating of her heart. She wanted to go around and admire everything, meet everyone and learn how they achieved some of their beautiful creations. A few- obviously- were less talented at costuming than others, but she still loved seeing what people presented themselves as.
“I’m Jade,” she added, in case Isabelle didn’t like the compliment coming from a stranger.
Isabelle turned her head to see a very flustered looking Jade, her bewitched cat ears and tail moving as they should. She couldn’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter, partly because that was the best cat costume she had ever seen, and partly because it was the funniest sight ever to see somebody walk by with actual moving cat ears and a tail. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her giggles.
“Excusez moi, I’m so sorry,” she giggled. “That is the best cat costume I’ve ever seen. And the funniest. I’m not even joking.”
It had taken her a couple of seconds to realize that Jade had paid her a compliment earlier. She quickly composed herself. “Merci, Jade. I feel amazing.”
After a few moments of awkward silence, she decided to initiate a conversation, seeing as both were just standing there by the refreshments, admiring the decoration and watching people dance on the dance floor. She poured herself and Jade some punch and handed it to her.
“No date?” she asked, taking a sip. “I’m surprised. A cat can’t come alone to a party. There ought to be some dogs lurking about.”
Julian was lying on the couch in front of the fireplace still wearing his Quidditch uniform, his toned forearm covering his sightly sweaty face. He could feel his head pounding in his ears as the rage grew within him. He was having a hard time getting over the fact that his team, the best team in the entire school, had just lost against her team.
“Equipe de le Feu in possession, Lafoudre heading for goal — Lafoudre scores!”
The boy groaned in frustration, muttering under his breath an angry string of unpleasant curses as he ran his fingers through his curly dirty blonde hair.”She drives me insane.” as he pronounced the last word he heard the common room door open and close, then the sound of Isabelle’s voice poured through the room.
Julian ran his tongue across his dry lips, turning his head in her direction with his forearm still covering most of his face. “Your team is a joke and has always been a joke. What happened was just pure luck, Lafoudre.”
She saw Julian, frustrated and tired, sprawled across the common room couch. Beads of sweat ran slowly down his head and his curly blonde hair dripped with it. His muscular arm covered his face, hiding his shame and frustration, probably. She used her robe to wipe the sweat off her face as she sat down on another chair. She looked at Julian, sprawled, angry on the couch, trying not to stare. The soft light of the fire only accentuated his features and muscles, even if his face was out of view.
“If you say so, Lambert,” she smiled cockily, removing her outer Quidditch robe and setting it on the table. She shook her head, trying to shake out her ‘unholy’ thoughts of Julian. She made a mental note to herself to have it washed later, seeing as it was completely covered in mud and her number, 22, was blocked completely out of view.
“Pure luck, Julian?” she asked. “I don’t think so. We’ve been practicing for weeks, and this game is only going to be the start of our winnings. You’re just too much of a sore loser to realize.” She huffed, slightly angry. He was ruining the day for her.
Isabelle had always fancied the idea of a costume party, and the Halloween ball would be nothing short of amazing. For weeks she pondered who she might go as, seeing as she didn’t want to go as a typical princess or fairy, or even a leopard or bunny. Since it was a ball, she figured she should be going as some sort of regal being. She seriously considered going as Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, but couldn’t find the proper spell to turn her skin green for only a night.
It was only a few days ago that she came across the perfect idea for a costume: she would go as Odile from the famous ballet Swan Lake. It was the perfect costume for her: dark, mysterious and cunning Odile. It was one of her favorite ballets, and she had danced the part last year when Beauxbatons performed several excerpts (mostly solos) from the ballet. For the last few days, she’d been working on her costume whenever she could. She wanted to make sure it was perfect.
On the night of the ball, Isabelle slipped it over her head and smiled. She had opted to alter a long, strapless, billowing black gown instead of wearing a tutu. She layered black feathers (which she spray painted by hand) on the bodice and made sure they overlaped onto the skirt, which shimmered with gold and silver glitter. She quickly got to work on her make up and hair, which she piled in a ballerina like bun. She allowed several wisps of hair to stray away and fall onto the side of her face.
Content and feeling amazing, Isabelle opened the doors to the ballroom and feasted her eyes on the splendor of it all. She could see costumes left and right: a King arthur, a queen of some sort, and even somebody dressed as a bunny. She smiled, determined that tonight would be great. It had to be.
