Running her fingers through the folds of her dress, Glenda let no pleat or invisible lint go unattended to as she sat. Her dress was far too beautiful for those kinds of blemishes, and the task had proven to be a manageable distraction that was getting her through the rest of the night until it was professionally and socially acceptable to leave.

Oh, that sounded horrible. She really shouldn't be so unwilling to attend her own party. The WWN had really outdone itself, inviting practically the whole of the Wizarding World to help 'welcome her back' to Britain's airwaves. The network had been more than happy to accept her back when she (Sturgis) had contacted them, but had made no mention of something like this until last week after everything had been finalized. All she had asked for was her job back, but apparently her celebrity status had grown substantially with her absence and things like this had become necessary.

She had spent the first good part of the party clutching tightly onto Sturgis' arm, feeling not only uneasy but lost as witch after wizard continued to appear in front of her, asking questions, telling jokes and attempting to have ernest conversations with the woman of the hour. It felt strange having so many familiar faces and names rushed back upon her, and many times already she had wished she was her formal self. If this had been three years ago, Glenda knew she would have chatted up the entire room already instead of giving half-empty smiles, dutiful nods and soft answers.

Now, though, Sturgis had long ago left her side. A tactic she knew no doubt had been purposefully planned down to the minute. It had generated the same feeling within Glenda when he had shown up an hour early before this whole thing started, asking if she minded escorting him, and then offering to drop Tristan off at her Aunt and Uncle's to ensure that she would have enough time to get ready because she hadn't even gotten dressed yet. She knew he was only trying to help with her readjustment process, which made her love, and hate, him more because of it.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Glenda looked up to catch glimpses of the party from outside. Her aimless wandering had lead her to party's outside grounds, a rather nice garden area with sparkling lights and nearby fountain. A few people were nearby, but she didn't mind much. The atmosphere reminded her of Italy.


OOC: soo it's safe to assume Gleny basically knows everyone, WWN would've made sure all friends were here LOL and if she didn't, all famous people were invited anyway so YAY

Glenda had been watching Tristan play in the living room from the kitchen when she heard a knock come from the front door. The sound had caught her so off guard that she nearly slid off the tabletop and dropped to the floor in shock. No one came to the house, with Tristan still being too young to have friends and her increasingly anti-social ways, so it took a few moments for her to recollect herself.

Who could it possibly be? Tristan had given no notice to the knock, continuing to play with his new dinosaur and Quidditch sets on the floor. Thinking it would be best to not involve him, Glenda quickly walked toward the front door without saying anything. As she walked, she thought about what it could be. She supposed it was getting close to her son's birthday (three in two weeks!), so it was very possible there was an early gift in the post. That thought calmed her for a moment... until she remembered that wizards didn't use post-officers. She stopped in her tracks, now feeling unsteady about who could be behind the door.

No. The war was over. This was not England. She did not need to be overly paranoid anymore. She looked back at her son briefly, who had still given no heed to anything outside of his own interests. There was nothing wrong. It was normal to have people visit other people's houses. She continued to sooth herself with positive thoughts until she finally made it to the door.

Just for food measure, Glenda quietly pressed her face up against the door, peaking through the hole. "Sturgis?" she whispered, genuinely surprised to see a familiar face so far away from where it should be. Well this was--- unexpected. A slight frown formed on her face, unsure of what to think of this. Was it wrong that her mind automatically went to whether this would be good or bad? Taking a deep breath, she clung to the handle and threw the door open.

"Sturgis!" Glenda repeated, feigning a surprised tone easily. She produced a well-trained smile for him.

Potters are hosting the Christmas party at headquarters, yes, yes? I knew you'd all agree.

Dirk loved his job, he did, but he loved Fridays even more. He still got to go in and work with the goblins (when they let him!), but he got to look forward to a nice quiet weekend of doing whatever he pleased. Lately it had been trying to get Derek to hang out with him, even though that usually just involved watching telly. It was something! Dirk was worried about his big cousin, especially now with the war getting so intense and--

He blinked curiously, as the shelves of his cubicle began to shake. Dirk's eyes twitched back and forth as he watched the pictures he had hanging drop to the floor, and the bust of Gorgak the Terrible started to inch forward and forward. And his desk was shaking, and now his chair, and Dirk was startled to his feet at the sound of someone screaming, "EARTHQUAKE!"

An earthquake! Oh hell, Dirk had just been thinking that some erumpents had escaped again! Earthquake! What was the first rule of an earthquake? These were NOT the things they taught you in Hogwarts! How was he supposed to survive an earthquake if he didn't have the proper training?! DEREK WOULD KNOW WHAT TO DO, THAT IS WHY DIRK WANTED TO REMAIN CLOSE TO HIM AND----

The bust of Gorgak the Terrible teetered off the shelf and smacked Dirk straight in the forehead, making him drop to the ground, and thankfully roll under his desk.

He really did love his job, he did.

ooc: http://www.scribbld.net/users/valesco_mods/32698.html

How could this have happened?

James paced back and forth in the living room of the Order House, having been banned from helping the rescue party because he couldn't remain calm. Damn bloody right he couldn't remain calm! Only Frank and Alice---and Dumbledore, he knew, only they knew about the prophecy. So they did not have any idea of what was going through James' head. What was Voldemort doing, not having people kill Lily on the spot? Or had they killed her, and taken her and---James clenched his fists tightly, wishing to wring the neck of the death eaters that had dared invade their home. They had seen maybe one neighbor, always entering the house through the floo, so how anyone knew their location was highly suspicious.

They had only told a handful of people.

He didn't like the paranoia that was growing with his anger, but James couldn't stop his thoughts. How had they found out? Who had slipped and revealed their location? The Longbottoms were keeping a very low profile too, they were definitely in a more public place than they were, so---if they had been after Alice (like she had hysterically explained) they why didn't they attack them at the Ministry? Or at Alice's parents? It didn't make any sense to James, and he had the boiling, intensely strong gut-feeling that they had been waiting to hit two birds with one stone.

James kicked out at the thought, making the side table and the variety of knick-knacks on top of it rattle. Nothing fell, and James struck his hand out and sent the lamp soaring to the ground with a very satisfying crack. He whirled around--what else would be ridiculously good to smash?