“Why does everyone act like the punch being stronger is a bad thing?”

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“Why does everyone act like the punch being stronger is a bad thing?”

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“I know I look amazing but can you either stop staring at me or get out of my way. I promised I’d be on my best behavior.”Â
              Rodolphus sighed from his corner of the room, eyeing the many students laughing, drinking and dancing. His mood was sour, his distaste for the balls making him long for his own room, where he could drink his own whiskey in peace. His tie felt too tight around his neck, his suit, grey with a lining of silver, felt too tight and constricting. Gritting his teeth, he took another sip of his punch - pleased to note that someone had taken the initiative to make it a stronger brew. “How long until I can leave?” He mutter to himself, not really caring who would over-hear him.Â
“I thought I was done with dresses once my burns healed. My legs are freezing.”
“There are so many people. I don’t think the Great Hall has looked more crowded.”

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Max walked into the room with his head held high, his eyes scanning for his date for the evening. Honestly, he wasn’t sure where she was and didn’t want to socialise with anyone else that evening, apart from her. So, he kept to the side of the room, on the look out for Juliet, trying to avoid the gaze of the person that was coming towards him.
“Don’t look too surprised that I’m wearing such a dress. I am a woman, you know.”
For a rare moment, Pandora felt as if she were out of place. People seemed to be either really under-dressed for this party, or really over-dressed, and she was one of the latter ones. Tucking her hair behind her ear as she stood in the corner of the room, the blonde didn’t realise that someone was walking over to her, until they were standing right in front of her. “Oh! Hi, sorry. World of my own.”