There was a whole menagerie of different events and stalls. It was a night of revelry that would soon lead to carelessness for some poor soul. Evan planned on having some more... select fun, when that time came. But for now he’d settle on something a less entertaining but flashy enough to grab attention: a duelling stand. While he’d not become a professional, despite easily having the talent, he was well regarded in duelling circles and had already laid two people out flat in the little sparring runway that had been erected on the street next to a large bonfire that consistently changed colours. 

His black robes seemed to shine in the fluttering firelight, the pants were tight, the shoes shiny and his shirt sleeveless, instead having long folds of material that barely covered his arms, a little movement and a toned forearm of thick bicep was easily visible. Was he a little cold? Perhaps. But he looked good and sometimes one had to make sacrifices for beauty. 

Being the kind of male that Alastor is, he often didn’t take too much notice of his appearance. Not in the way the younger ones did. He dressed smart, and in a way that allowed him to take on rogue elements should the scenario arise. Tonight’s event had the taste of danger in the air as he apparated to Hogsmeade, smoothing his dark navy button down shirt back into place upon arrival. In addition to the dress shirt were dark slacks and a thick black overcoat that reached just above his knees. His leather shoes had recently been shined and his hair slicked back in the usual style. Being head Auror at such a high profile event required him to keep up appearances.

Wasting no time in reaching the destination, Moody avoided the chattering crowd and kept to the outskirts, scanning the perimeter for exit points. Kingsley and Edgar were already here and stationed, he nodded to them but held off on his approach. Tonight may reflect festivities but for the Ministry, it was business as usual. Once he had memorized the layout, he moved into his own position near the main entrance. The hustle and bustle of the crowds made him anxious, they always did. Not that you could see it on his face. No, the Auror carried a stoic expresion- as per usual.

He really did hate these sorts of things. Rodolphus had apparated to Hogsmeade not fifteen minutes ago and already he was desperately wishing to be back at the Lestrange Manor with a glass of Lagavulin Whiskey in his hand and Bella by his side. It wasn’t that he was bored, no, for Rod tonight was as important as ever. Being able to see members of the Rebeliion he hadn’t in a good long while, shaking hands with other Ministry officials, building rapport, strengthening connections... it was all about working the floor. This was far from a social evening, this was business. Though they’d arrived together, Bella was already off with her sister, giving him the space he needed to work the grounds. The Death Eaters may be working to an end goal but brute force didn’t always work and the Dark Lord had tasked him with turning as many of the higher ups as possible- his position on the Wizengamot gave him the access he needed and the rest was up to his sweet talking diplomacy.

One would think that after over a decade of her parents’ murder that she still wouldn’t get emotional about watching families together. But Mary still finds it difficult to look at families, especially with children around the age that she was when they died. Seeing children look so happy with their parents make her wish that they were still around. She had a good childhood, full of laughter and love, before they were murdered, but she still wishes that they could be here now. They missed out on so much, and she still misses them. Grief doesn’t just go away, and she still mourns them, especially with the way their lives were lost. It’s hard to get over something like that. 

So she doesn’t know why she’s watching the families together. She doesn’t even know why she’s here, honestly. She’s had fun at these events before, but that’s when she was surrounded with friends. Now she’s here by herself, standing off to the sidelines, just watching everything around her. While she tries to keep her gaze from families, she can’t help but to notice them, especially when they’re around everywhere. 

                     Tables emptied and tables filled right up again and the bell above the door jumped and danced and jangled an off note accompaniment to the live band currently lending festive ambiance to Hogsmeade's oldest establishment. The music was a shivering of strings and the glassy-eyed laughter of those who stood with cups and glasses, with honey soaked pastries and braised meat and thought good things of the proprietress, of The Three Broomsticks ( who would come back, perhaps, for the inn found its most loyal patrons on days like these ) and of the night. Meg and Dot and the half-help that came on busy days ( Meg; brown eyes, soft all over, would give out freebies til Easter if they Rosmerta let her ) ducked and wheeled and turned through it all, hanging out mug and smile as directed by their eagle eyed employer.

The lady in question is not hard to find though she is nowhere in particular. She is rarely difficult to locate, all inroads and cowpaths in her little kingdom irrevocably leading to her industrious hands waiting table and her laughing mouth which waits for nothing at all. Ever the broad and beaming sort that only goes grim and pointed during moments when she's obliged to enforce the laws of commerce or common courtesy. Breaks in her bonhomie are few and far between; most who cross her threshold know to leave their trouble at the door, whether they like or not. Of course, there was always the occasional transgressors.

Rosmerta was tolerant of rowdiness; how not in a place where cups ever overfloweth. But this particular gentleman had crossed the boundaries of propriety with his rough talk and simmering aggression. Worse still he'd gotten handsy with soft, downy Meg-of-the-doe-eyes and this was more than Rosmerta could tolerate. She'd been resigning herself to undercutting the festive atmosphere by making a scene to drive the man out ( and maybe break the offending hand for good measure ) when she was distracted by new arrival seeking a room.

    " Unfortunately, love, we're full up for the evening. "    Packed to the rafters, in fact. The only sleeping space left was for someone willing to curl up next to the cauldron with Hector. Her rueful warmth was undercut abruptly by another discourteous shout from her no-longer welcomed guest. A muscle jumped in the corner of her jaw as Rosmerta stiffened almost imperceptibly.