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slytherin

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slytherin by nicole231 ❤ liked on polyvore.com

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A very Slytherin wardrobe

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A very Slytherin wardrobe by cinnamonwaffles ❤ liked on polyvore.com

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TopShop Velvet Plunge Body ❤ liked on Polyvore

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Pamela Love necklace ❤ liked on Polyvore (see more antique necklaces)

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Gown ❤ liked on Polyvore (see more long dresses)

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Thakoon dress ❤ liked on Polyvore (see more green pleated dresses)

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Gown ❤ liked on Polyvore (see more green evening dresses)

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Zuhair Murad gown ❤ liked on Polyvore (see more long dresses)

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Smiling at and lightly touching some the arms or shoulders of  some of the familiar faces, well, rather masks he passed as he pulled Oswald towards the floor, he chuckled softly to himself. “Because it has no reason not to be. Not yet, at least,” he murmured, beginning to synchronize his movements in time with the music. “Let go, love. Don’t think for once, just feel. Now dance with me,” he said softly, looking up at Oswald.

Oswald was fully in his thoughts when someone put their hand on his arm. Oswald turned to scold whomever had done this, but as he turned he recognized who it was. He could tell by the smirk and the faint scent of cigarettes and leather. Now Oswald was stunned into a silence as Albus pulled him towards the dance floor, “Why should the night be carefree?” he asked, his voice a little breathy from the constricting sensation in his chest.

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Albus had been making his way through the crowd, catching up on gossip and toying with emotions. It was odd, how the guise of not being himself, at least not entirely, made it easier to socialize. Normally, he wouldn’t be able to be able to bear so many people, but tonight was an exception. He had already predetermined how he wanted the outcome of the party to be, the information he wanted to get, and who it was important he spent time with. As the song ended, Albus bid adieu to his partner and went off in the pursuit of a new one. Seeing a brooding boy who seemed all too familiar to be a stranger, Albus smirked to himself and swept in, placing a hand on his arm. “You should dance with me,” he suggested, in a tone of voice that was clearly more a demand waiting to be filled. “You look too caught in your own head for what’s supposed to be a carefree night.”

Oswald sat off to the side of the dance floor, frowning at the mass of bodies before him. He didn’t like large crowds of people. Or people at all for that matter. With thier fake happiness and their fake promises and their fake loyalty and fake fakeness. He hated it. So he watched them go about this moment while he snuck sips of the firewhisky he’d brought in his flask. He watched them and in the back of his head he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he hated it because he couldn’t have it.

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“Mmmm, not quite. I always need to worry about looking good.” Twirling his ring absentmindedly, Albus stared down at the foods and beverages in front of him blankly for a moment before smiling once more. “Oh, I’ve seen at least four guys glare broodingly out at people who they obviously want to ask to dance, but can’t work up the courage to, two crying girls, a boy who just stormed out and a few who are failing miserably at convincing the rest of the crowd they’re sober.”

“Just that no matter how much you pretty yourself up for initial impressions, ugliness has its way of bleeding through, yeah?” Tilting his head to the side, Albus examined the other closely. “Doesn’t fit your persona? Funny, I always thought art was one of the few universal things. What sort do you do?”

Atlas glanced around quickly, look at the rest of the party. “Well, I think there’s a lot of people ogling you, so I don’t think you’ll need to worry about looking good.” He frowned slightly at the other man’s comment. “There are people worse than me? That I gotta hear.”

“Suits only do so much? What does that mean?” Atlas almost stopped in his tracks when the guy asked if he was an artist. He clamped his mouth shut, only to realize nobody knew who he was. “Yeah, I’m an artist, but it’s a secret.” He grinned. “It doesn’t really go with the rest of my persona, I guess. So like, maybe one person knows.”

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“Hardly,” Albus replied, chucking softly, “I just know what I want. Well, at least in terms of sex. That’s not a bad outlook for the day. Nobody’s stopping you from having some fun, doll.”

Amberlyn shrugs. “Seems like you’re a simple minded fellow. And it doesn’t matter to me tonight. Tonight’s a night abotu fun!”

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As Albus walked alongside the girl who suddenly began speaking to him, he was certain she had him confused with someone else. Listening to her stress over her dress, Albus chuckled. It was an odd thing to be worried about in his opinion. It was a bit much, sure, but so weren’t all of the rest of the dresses here. Nearly everyone here was dresses to impress, and the idea of dressing too well was foreign to him.

“Love, everyone here is dressed in their finest. Besides, tonight is the night to be over the top, to be whatever the hell you want to be. You’re dressed to kill. Own it and don’t let a damn person in this room forget it.” Rolling his eyes, Albus wondered how long it would take her to figure out he wasn’t who she wanted. Perhaps she already had. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

She had decided a long time before tonight that she would only go for the food however, now that she was walking towards where the event was held, Tabitha was becoming more and more unsure of herself. “I don’t know. Would you mind telling me?” With an anxious glance at those walking past her, she patted down on the material of her dress. “Is it too much? Or not? Should I have worn something…” There was a word for it but it took too long for her to find, and she waved it off. Whatever. 

“Whatever. I’m sure no one will be able to tell who I am anyways, so what’s the point.” Well, that’s what she hoped as she touched her mask just to know that it was actually there. “Alright, what are we waiting for? Let’s get going.”

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“Money does it for me, primarily. Money and good sex.” Shrugging, Albus leaned up against the table and watched the people surrounding him dance, ironed suits and billowing skirts moving as one. “You can only see my eyes and from my mouth down. The rest of me could be repulsive,” he suggested.

“Oh? I don’t know. i like to dance and have fun. But hey whatever floats your boat, right?” She smiles.”I wonder why.” She muses with a teasing smirk.

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Cocking his head to the side, Albus played innocent when Brynn figured out his identity. “Albus Potter? Curious, what makes you think so? Thanks for the compliment, though. The same could be said for you.” While he doubted it would work, it would be interesting if he could make Brynn second guess herself. “Oh, I’m feeling charitable, so I’m dancing with nearly everyone tonight. Just not with these slow songs. Much to personal. I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. The song is overplayed, classic or not.”

     ♡ –– She momentarily looked away encaging her bottom lip between her teeth. That charm and swagger was all so familiar, she mused. Brynn pointedly returned his gaze, “Albus –– well, you clean up nicely.” She listened to his small spout. “Meaning: there are a handful that want to dance with you, but you, not them? You do not –– how could you not like this song? Classic.” She lightly sang a portion of the chorus.

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Albus shrugged, not going to deny that his attire had cost him a pretty penny, but he had rather expensive tastes, and imagined he always would. “Most likely,” he agreed, laughing. “People always judge based on appearance, especially if the rest of you is cloaked in anonymity. It’s best to give them something good to look at, yeah? Some people are just better than others with parties. You aren’t in the worst shape of everyone I’ve seen tonight.”

“It’s what you’re most comfortable in, so it’s the best choice. While they do help, suits can only do so much for the people wearing them.” Taking a sip out of his flask, he glanced over the other man curiously. “Paint splatter? Are you an artist?”

“Thank goodness for that.” Altas frowned slightly, looking the other man over for a second. “That suit probably costs more than my house. But it makes you look all put together and fancy and such, so, um, yeah. I’m really not good with this kind of stuff.” 

“Oh, thanks.” Atlas commented, pulling at the cuffs of his blazer. “I was worried I wasn’t formal enough, or it was too weird or something. But splatter paint is always cool, so. ”

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“Lucky, hmm? What makes you such a catch? I’m not a guy who’s one over so easily. I’m a lot more high maintenance than that,” Albus joked, winking at her. “Oh, I do get asked from time to time. Most girls just don’t bother though,” he replied, smile playing at his lips.

“I’m looking to have fun with a lot of people tonight. You just got lucky to be the first person I saw.” She look him up and down. “I wonder why no one has ever asked you.”