[identity profile] notquitefacist.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] bait_backup
*Remarkably, the simple concept of maintaining a façade has remained almost universally successful as a way to convince others that everything is merry and bright, even in the darkest of times. Tonight, in one of London's grandest Wizarding hotels, everything certainly looks the part. Enormous deep green wreaths decorate the walls, elves circulate the room dressed as very small porters carrying trays above their heads, and soft dots of snow swirl down from gilded ceilings only to fade away before reaching the guests, their delicate passage not at all deterred when passing by the great chandeliers holding hundreds of candles each that wash the Ministry's finest in gleaming candlelight. Even Bernadette looks rosy and almost healthy in their glow, and his son would too if he would hold still long enough for anyone to tell. For once, however, Barty is not the person he is least pleased to see enjoying the fruits of his position.

Though he keeps a weather eye on his son, that prize belongs to the members of the aristocracy tonight - those with enough money to hold great influence and enough arrogance to presume that makes them neighbouring forces in the political world Crouch Sr. has dedicated his life to controlling. Their presence here among the men and women who have done more than donate and bribe to achieve their power, himself being at the top of this list, occupies a great deal of his obsession tonight. He, like all those with authoritarian blood running in their veins, is a hypocrite, and believes that this façade of righteousness should be his alone to exercise. After all the fear the attack on the ICW had fuelled, tonight is to remind those present and the public at large that no government in it's right mind would celebrate after disaster unless it truly had the upper hand and had utmost security even when threatened.

Christmas to him is the public relations opportunity of the year, and he will spend it in plain view of all, watching the moves of everyone in the room who he knows have some hand in trying to destroy him. They may be protected, wrapped in various different ways in this world of reputation and power, but he will see them all with their defences stripped as his grow stronger. Crouch Sr. celebrates this cheering thought of the season with a drink.*

Date: 2010-12-29 11:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com
*Barty's formal wear, though of a striped and questionably pale-blue variety, is still more acceptable than usual for him - an uneasy truce arranged by Bernadette several hours before the party. Much like his clothes, he'd been trapped into attending. Motherly glances suckering him into a night filled with lifeless and be-suited fifty-somethings, fluttering endlessly around the hotel's rented ballroom like particularly dishonest butterflies. Since he was a child, Barty had found amusement in differentiating the multitude of species present and their various, ridiculous pollination rituals - not that everyone present is a butterfly at all. Fudge, schmoozing his way through the throng, is definitely more of a slug, or perhaps a caterpillar born without the necessary facilities to construct a cocoon. He's slimy, to put it simply.

However, Fudge is nothing compared to his own father, who eyes the insectoid crowd predatorily like a frog. His assessment of the political food chain is far from light-hearted and yet Barty bursts into sudden, uncalled for laughter, flapping his arms slightly as he does so. He doesn't care for his father's hunger or Fudge's slime. He knows that in this equation, he is the heron.*

Date: 2010-12-29 05:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purely-better.livejournal.com
*Of all the social powerhouses Crouch so secretly despises - of all the insects, in Barty's view - there are perhaps few so keen on being seen in precisely the right time, place, and manner as the Malfoys. The arrive just shy of actually late, just enough to give the impression of not caring about other people's time, but they look, in a word, flawless. What's more, they know it. Lucius strolls in, lazily regal, with Narcissa close on his arm, and surveys the other guests rather as though they, and not Crouch, are the ones responsible for all the splendor. And why not? If any of these peons had the slightest idea how much he and his wife have strategically donated, they'd be bowing.

The exact figures are kept just this side of private, though, to avoid looking tacky. Still, enough is known that they're gratifyingly noticed when they arrive, and Lucius is satisfied. It's one of the biggest social events they've been able to attend since Draco was born, and oh, how he's missed the attention.*

Long overdue, darling, don't you think?

Date: 2010-12-31 11:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] aprettyconceit.livejournal.com
*Naricssa's gaze moves impassively over the crowd, the corners of her mouth lifting past their society smile when she spies her young cousin's friend and his... attire.

Knowing with absolute certainty that she looks stunning, she squeezes Lucius' hand gently as they make their way through the lesser people.*

Just a tad. I do think we managed a more than passably acceptable entrance, given how little practice we've had lately.

Date: 2011-01-15 05:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purely-better.livejournal.com
'More than passably acceptable'? It was flawless and you know it, Narcissa, there's no need to be modest.

*His smile's nothing short of doting, and he raises her fingers to his lips for a quick, affectionate kiss before lowering his voice.*

Who first? Is there anyone in particular you've been wanting to, ah...visit, with?

Date: 2011-01-15 09:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] aprettyconceit.livejournal.com
Darling, it's not nice if I gloat. I might get wrinkles.

*Her smile is just as devoted, though anyone watching would think it merely a pleasant expression. Narcissa smiles at Lucius with love in her eyes, not on her lips.*

The Minister ought to be first, and if you could keep me well away from the Skeeter woman, I'll be forever grateful - I've seen her darting about the place already.

Date: 2011-01-15 07:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] purely-better.livejournal.com
Is she here? Sometimes I think they'll let just anyone in at these parties.

*On the one hand, Lucius rather likes the idea of being in the paper; he's never one to turn down his name being in print. But if Narcissa would prefer to avoid the press, then avoid it they will. An elf walks by with a tray of drinks above its head, pulling his attention.*

Crouch it is, then. Would you care for a drink?

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Date: 2010-12-30 10:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] neveraprole.livejournal.com
*For every event there are some people who have made their way if not onto the guest list than at least into the crowd who don't deserve to be there. They get in not based on their position, their reputation, their bank balance, or even their saintly goodness, but rather because they look as confident as they feel that they will get in. Helen Wilkes is a frequent flyer of this club, and even though her work monitoring people's Floos five days a week isn't exactly prestigious enough to get her invited even to the office party she knows is going on in the Ministry with some of the boys from the Magical Creatures department, she looks her best tonight and simply walks in among judges and Department Head's galore.

Transferring her olive from her drink to her mouth, she leans in toward the one like-minded citizen there and revels calmly in their success.*

How many people here are under fifty, do you think?

Date: 2010-12-30 10:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beetlebitch.livejournal.com
*Rita Skeeter is all angles. Her dress tonight, from its hemline to its puffed up shoulder pads, end in sharp points. Similarly severe, her blond curls are pressed tightly under a garish headpiece. Though no less talented in the delicate art of looking more important than she is, Rita had crept in the old fashioned way - if the old fashioned way consists of buzzing lazily into the building as a large, green beetle. Now that she's inside, however, she doesn't bother to keep a low profile.

Smiling crookedly she nods toward a plump witch in unflattering, silken dress robes.*

That's Ingrid Hildegarde. She's the shady side of forty. I blew the lid the on her husband's affair with his secretary last year. Can't say I blame him.

Date: 2010-12-30 11:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] neveraprole.livejournal.com
Yeah but in those clothes she wouldn't make the list even if she hadn't seen the shady side of one too many cookie tins too.

Date: 2010-12-31 10:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beetlebitch.livejournal.com
Cookie tins are the least of her worries. A little birdie told me they'll be filing for separation after New Years.

*The crowd parts slightly giving Rita a view of the Crouches. Smirking, she scans Bernadette's slight, fragile figure with a derisive snort.*

There's one who wont be reaching fifty.

Date: 2011-01-01 01:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rona-c.livejournal.com
*Rona lurks behind Rita and her friend and decides now is the time to butt in.*

My sister in law may have a weak body but her mind is stronger than you can comprehend.

*She smiles and raises a glass.* Hello again old enemy.

Date: 2011-01-01 02:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beetlebitch.livejournal.com
Madrona, isn't this a pleasant surprise. Still pretending that rag of yours is a respectable publication?

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Date: 2011-01-02 12:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rona-c.livejournal.com
I doubt you saw that Skeeter woman arrive either.

Date: 2011-01-02 12:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rettie-c.livejournal.com
Shush you. She may have snuck herself in somehow but she's not causing any bother yet.

*Rettie turns to her brother and politely kisses his cheek* Lovely party this year Barty, and how is Bernadette holding up?

Date: 2011-01-02 11:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rettie-c.livejournal.com
*Nods in agreement* It might be best to have her watched, in case she tries to make off with one of these silver goblets or starts harassing people into interviews. She has much less awareness about party etiquette than we do. *Rettie sends a sweet smile in Rita's direction.*

*Rettie is also glad her sister in law is feeling better, though her brother is mostly good target practice and a brilliant tease the sisters really do care for their family and have worries about their health as any normal family would.*

Oh good, I suppose it helps to be around others and in a relaxed atmosphere, I can't imagine your house can ever relaxed with Barty bouncing off the walls.

Date: 2011-01-03 11:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rettie-c.livejournal.com
*Rettie watches as Rona stalks off after one of the girls carrying a tray of drinks.* Of course, you never know, he might flourish with freedom and responsibility.

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Date: 2011-01-10 09:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] consumptivewife.livejournal.com
*After several hours of socialising, Bernadette's smile remains intact but it is propped up by exhaustion. There is no need for a fuss but her head feels light and she makes her way slowly to a somewhat secluded bench on the wall, weaving politely through the partygoers looking as though everything is going wonderfully until she is able to take a seat.

Sinking onto the cushions she takes the last sip some the flute glass of sparkling water and allows herself to close her eyes - only briefly, to rest. Just getting off her feet helps but it also makes her realise how much effort it is to be on them. Still, behind her eyelids the room still seems enchanting. Being the centre of a party was never Bernadette's motivation to make the holidays good, but still she enjoys these evenings so much more genuinely than her husband does. She has been watching him all evening, remembering fondly how he had never had much spirit around Christmas. Not much has changed there, it still endears her just as much as it did then.

Her glass is empty but she touches it to the back of her hand, the cool glass reminding her to only rest for a moment.*

Date: 2011-01-10 10:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beetlebitch.livejournal.com
*The cushions bob with the weight of something new as Rita joins her, her glass is still full and she nurses it with feigned sophistication.*

You look marvellous tonight, a real belle of the ball if you don't mind me saying.

Date: 2011-01-10 10:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] consumptivewife.livejournal.com
*Her eyes open, but she covers her surprise gracefully despite the interruption.*

Oh - why thank you, that's kind. I think everyone looks their best tonight.

Date: 2011-01-10 10:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beetlebitch.livejournal.com
Don't they just?

*She offers her free hand, nails pointed and painted.*

Rita Skeeter, a pleasure.

Date: 2011-01-10 10:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] consumptivewife.livejournal.com
*She switches her glass to the other hand and takes Rita's. Only the faintest of bells go off in her head from half-recalled conversations with Henrietta and Madrona, she doesn't make it a habit of keeping up with the type of news Rita has been known to report on in the past.*

I think I've heard your name before, but haven't had the pleasure.

Date: 2011-01-10 10:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beetlebitch.livejournal.com
Well I've certainly heard yours. It must be fascinating, being married to the Minister for Magic himself.

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