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[malicious_dg]

Dances.

Waste of time. Boring. A place to watch overly made up witches strut around in front of wizards. Like some sort of obscene mating ritual.

And I've already been written to by my father, who informs me that I am to go to this dance.

Tracey, I know you're going--want to go in a group with me? I'd invite Pansy, but she's going with Blaise.

Comments

[diabolic_davis]

Oh, thank Salazar! I'd love to go in a group. Maybe I won't look so pathetic, then. Still, no one looks more pathetic at dances than Hufflepuffs. Now there's looking on the bright side.

[malicious_dg]

Good--I hate going alone as well. And even if it's the two of us alone we'll still find something to do. Make fun of Hufflepuffs, perhaps?

Or a particular Hufflepuff who was trying to go with a Slytherin?

[diabolic_davis]

Good idea. Making fun of Hufflepuffs is always a worthwhile way to pass the time at horrendous and pointless dances.

And that particular Hufflepuff you mentioned is just begging to be made fun of. I think it's her only purpose in life, actually.

[wings_of_charm]

He's informed you that you're going? He cares?

[malicious_dg]

In his eyes, being at a dance is my way to make good social connections.

The fact that my parents failed at getting up in social standings has not deterred them from forcing their daughter to make up for their mistakes.