Slug Club Banquet

Free of any Patrols on Sunday, Rowan managed to catch up on her homework by lunchtime. She had even managed to read for leisure and study a bit on the side for her research. By late Sunday afternoon, the Slytherin common room was much more relaxed as even the 5th & 7th years decided to take a break from studying. There was laughter and even loud voices as first-years and the older years played games. Some traditional such as Exploding Snap, and other muggle games such as Monopoly. Either way, there was a much lighter spirit among the Slytherin's for even Rowan found herself pulled into joining a game or two.

Keeping an eye on the time, Rowan with great displeasure saw that the time was growing near. Excusing herself from the game with Terry, and several others, she was waved off by Terry and several other hands as the game was afoot. Despite Severus having volunteered to patrol all day, Rowan kept one eye on the first-year snakeling's and other younger years. Baby snakes are one of the few species from birth that are natural-born hunters and therefore tend to need more watching than others.

Looking over the common room one last time to ensure nothing was amiss, Rowan reluctantly made her way up to the girl dorms. She had already had an outfit selected and set out on the bed having already been selected by Bethanie and Tiffany. It was a warm silk gray sweater with a white button blouse underneath matched with a pair of dark silk trousers.

The figures of Tiffany and Bethanie expectantly sit on Tiffany's bed together expectantly waiting to hear Rowan praise them for their selection of clothing. "Thank you, the clothes match really well," Rowan said as she began to undress and put on the set-out clothes.

"Of course," Tiffany proudly said. "Bethanie and I have an eye for such things." She paused and made a face. "Sylvia wanted you to wear red."

Rowan pauses to stare at Sylvia, who was lying on her stomach reading a book about the barrister laws of the Ministry of Magic. "What?" Sylvia said as she realized all three friends were staring at her. She rolled her eyes and muttered, "I thought it would be humorous, and she is a descendant of Godric Gryffindor too."

"Most certainly not," Bethanie chided with a disapproving look. "Rowan's skin tone would look rather awful with such a bright color and would horribly clash together with the pallor of her skin!"

Sylvia merely snorts and returns to reading her book. She was planning on following her father's footsteps and entering the Ministry of Magic as a barrister. She would naturally have to start from the bottom and be apprenticed. In fact, she was planning to apprentice under Barty Crouch Sr. No doubt, her father would be furious at her decision, but she thought it best to learn from her father's rival. That and there would be no voices of objection for any excessive favoring for being her father's daughter.

While Rowan finishes up dressing Tiffany lets out a disappointed sigh. She wanted to do Rowan's hair and makeup, but both she and Bethanie knew that Rowan would firmly decline their services. Still, at least, Rowan bothered to brush her hair out and leave it loose. It looked rather lovely really like a silky dark waterfall with a slight wave to it.

Glancing at the time, Rowan sees that it is nearly six-thirty. She lets out a resigned sigh and says, "Save me at least a dinner roll or two in case I don't eat anything at Slughorn's place."

"Will do," Sylvia mumbled from behind the cover of her book.

"We'll try to save ham as well to make mini-sandwiches for you, Rowan," Bethanie promised as Tiffany nodded her head resolutely in agreement with Bethanie's comment.

"Thanks that's all I can hope for," Rowan said, "wish me luck," before waving goodbye to her friends. The three girls wish her well as she heads out from their shared dorm and makes her way out of the Slytherin quarters. Her departure largely goes unnoticed by those in the common room as even the 7th years are relaxing by worshiping the figures of Alchemy and Brahms.

Exiting the Slytherin's warm quarters, Rowan shivers aggressively at the icy dungeon air. Her every breath left puffs of smoke behind causing her to tug her warm, fur-lined robes tighter around her. Walking through the frigid, stone dungeon corridors she can already hear the echoes of music, laughter, and whispered conversations down the hall.

It would seem most of the crowd and guests had already arrived as Professor Slughorn's door was closed shut. Normally it was kept open except during the winter months. Otherwise, all the guests would freeze to death from the cold of the dungeons.

Coming to a halt before the door, Rowan reaches for the golden doorknob when a terrible feeling of unease washes over her. Flabbergasted, she releases the doorknob as though she had been violently shocked. Taking a step back, she warily studies the door, before closing her eyes.

Rowan's heartbeat sounds impossibly loud in her ears as she opens her mindscape. She hurriedly begins to study the guests found within Slughorn's classroom and freezes at three of the names present, Linus Gamp, Devante Nott, and Murtagh Burke. Her eyes hurtle open with uncertainty as she stares blatantly at the door before her. It was here.

Despite herself, Rowan can't bring herself to willingly move forward. Every instinct within her warned her to flee, it was a trap. But if she failed to enter, she could not attempt to confirm the existence of the vessel of Hydra found within. And she could not risk another repeat that which occurred with Kain Shafiq. It would be a sure death sentence for her.

Debating if the risk was worth it or not, Rowan almost did not hear the footsteps approaching from behind. She whirled around to only see the slender nearly flat-chested figure of Professor Eponine Mortimer. Shallow-colored skin, an angelic face, and stiff straight hair cut the shoulders; Professor Mortimer was an interesting conundrum.

"Prefect Prince," Professor Mortimer purred with a devious smile, "how very interesting that I found you here." She paused and glanced at the door, before back at Rowan. "It would seem that there is more than a slight hesitancy on your part to enter. Shall we enter together then?"

A sharp bark of laughter leaves Rowan's mouth. The die is cast. But at least, she had someone that she could trust enough to guard her back. For those with Spirit or magical inheritances could not be possessed. And Professor Mortimer just like Terry possessed the Veela inheritance via their great-grandmother. It was now or never.