End of the Year Ball: Main Thread

Scar was pleasantly surprised with the reaction she seemed to get from her peers. She greeted the people she met with a smile, and listened as the younger girl told her of her hopes to become an auror too. "It's nice to meet you too Mary. I'm sure you're more than competent with becoming an auror," she assured the girl.

She listened as Mari and Mary both attempted quite awkward small talk, and couldn't help a slight smirk on her lips, though she remained quiet throughout the conversation.

"Waters- Scarlett. Please do not let me make anymore small talk this evening, it is not my forté...Do you want to take the west side and I'll take the east. Patrol the sides and use the earpiece to give each other a status report?"

She nodded a little "So my job is the small talk from now on?" she mused a little bit. With Mari's orders, she nodded once more and made her way to the west side of the room. She spent her time wandering about, keeping a careful eye on the happenings of the ball. The students all looked like they were having a fantastic time, dancing and socialising, but Scar took no part. She was there for a reason, and she wasn't going to risk getting in any sort of trouble from Clement for not doing her job properly.

The brunette returned Victoria's hug, before she blushed and bowed her head, thanking Victoria softly as she let a curl fall down in front of her shoulders. Her naturally very flat hair had been somewhat cooperative with the witch tonight, and for that she was thankful, because with a few enchantements in place the braiding would stay put while the rest was free to blow about her features, which had unfortunately become a little angular since-... it happened.

"You look beautiful, Victoria," she said honestly, looking at the witch's dress and sighing wistfully, a smile on her lips all the while. "You always do!" She turned to Tristan, her grin threatening to falter as she held her hand out to the English boy. "It's wonderful to meet you!" The witch decided it was easier to pretend that she hadn't met him before, to escape the confusion and the need to explain everything that had happened. If no-one had missed her, or mused as to her whereabouts while she was - well, gone - there was no need to cause a fuss. And Isabelle had convinced herself that no-ne had done such things.

She held a hand out to the boy, smiling brilliantly at him. If he wanted to, he could bring up how they had met, but she wasn't going to do it first. "It's nice to meet you, as well! Are you from Hogwarts?" she inquired to the other girl Victoria was with. Looking around, she didn't see anyone who looked to be waiting for the witch to free hersef, and as always, she was quick to assume. "I came alone, too, don't worry!" It didn't seem like an offensive thing to say; if anything, it was meant to sound reassuring. It wasn't until afterwards that she realised what she'd actually said, but stumbling over her words wasn't something she felt like doing at that moment.

"Thank you,"

His smile widened a little, and he was just about to ask her if she wanted something to drink when another boy approached her. By the looks of it, he was a Salem boy, which was only confirmed with the way he and Victoria conversed so easily. Awkwardly, he stood at the side, wondering if he should quietly back away and leave them to talk, but then he had left and she turned back to him.

"Is your sister coming?"

He nodded. "She is. I think she's still getting ready; she has a date taking her." He had met Joe once or twice before, taking a liking to the quiet Hufflepuff, but not really knowing him well enough to tell Victoria much else.

"It's really nice to finally be able to meet you in person," he added softly, almost as an afterthought, but meaning it completely. Once again, before he could ask her anything else, a random person walked over, someone he recognized from Hogwarts, but had never really talked to.

He watched, intrigued, as Victoria talked so easily with her, wishing he could have that kind of confidence when meeting new people. Instead, however, he found himself looking away to the crowd of people around them.

"Oh, and Isabelle, this is Tristan, and my new friend..."

At that, he turned back around, coming face to face with one of the three others he had spent time with when he had been kidnapped. His eyes went wide as he tried to form a sentence in his head, but nothing came.

"It's wonderful to meet you!"

He stared blankly at the hand in front of him for a moment before reaching out and taking it gently. His own wrist still bore the scars from where the chain had dug deeply, and it was clearly visible. "I-" he tried, wondering what he could possibly say to her. "I'm... Uh... You look... I'm glad," he finally said, hoping she would understand what he meant.

Natasha had never been to a ball before. The whole thing was so grandiose, so gorgeous, and so perfect. Everything looked delicate, and the people were all dressed in gorgeous dresses, and dancing. She'd dressed in a purple dress, that she felt wasn't as glamourous as some of the other dresses she saw, but for the moment, that didn't matter. She walked into the ballroom, still with a sense of awe.

The young Wormwood smiled bashfully at her friend's words, an almost silent giggle escaping her lips. "Thank you," she said quietly, knowing that continuing the 'who looks most beautiful' conversation was a lost cause; Victoria was selfless, as such as Isabelle could tell, and every compliment she gave the witch knew she would get one in return.

"I-" he tried, wondering what he could possibly say to her. "I'm... Uh... You look... I'm glad."

For a few moments, the girl had to think about what the Slytherin had said to her. I'm glad she thought, chewing softly on the inside of her bottom lip as she mulled it over, finally concluding that he probably meant he was glad she wasn't a total mess. Or at least, not on the outside. She shook his hand with as much softness as he had taken hers with, eyes flitting to the marks she saw just below his sleeves. "You too," she whispered, speaking quietly not through anything but her sudden inability to do otherwise.

Paranoid as she had been since her return, Isabelle looked down at her own arms, and in her still slightly traumatised state swore that she could have seen the bruises appearing beneath the layers of cover-up. She shouldn't have been embarrassed; she was a survivor, for heaven's sake, but she couldn't help it. "Would you all excuse me? I have to take care of something." With a curt nod of her head, the girl rushed off in the direction of the bathrooms, heels clacking softly on the hard floor.