<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/11/ec/30/11ec305ad14e9fc040705b1cf3b0285b.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/harrypotter/images/f/f3/DurmstrangCrest.png/revision/latest?cb=20160112161151)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>NAME:</strong> Aaren Sandstrom (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=299655.msg14658128#msg14658128)<br/><strong>YEAR:</strong> Fifth<br/><strong>BLOOD STATUS:</strong> Half-blood<br/><strong>WAND:</strong> 12 inch | Redwood | Dragon Heartstring <br/><strong>WEARING:</strong> This outfit, without sunglasses (http://cdn01.cdn.justjaredjr.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/gregg-fitness/gregg-sulkin-fitness-inspiration-faking-set-05.jpg)<br/><strong>DATE | TIME:</strong> Saturday, October 26th, 2019 | Night<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong> Darley Penthouse | Lost<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong> Open heart, open mind, never know who you'll find...<br/><strong>MOOD MUSIC:</strong> DNCE - Kissing Strangers (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzZWXrlDj-A)<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Open | Expecting Dyani | (Mentioning Dior)</td></tr></tbody></table><br/><hr/><br/>He had to hand it to the lot at Hogwarts. They said the walls talked, but he had no idea what he was in for. The rumor mill was quite advanced. Unlike at Durmstrang, where it seemed like everyone was so self absorbed that they could not afford themselves the extra moments to waste, thinking about someone else. Dior had thrown a party at a penthouse in Hogsmeade and Aaren had no idea if the place was this large ordinarily, or if she used magic to expand it, but it looked like a proper night club, for the event.<br/><br/>Everyone had been invited as far as he could tell, but the purpose of the party was to get the students from all three schools mingling. Aaren had to admit, that was the most appealing aspect of it, for him. A month ago, he was questioning his ability to get out of the funk he had been in, perhaps in a bit of denial about just how lonely he had made himself in recent time. The Tournament acted as a sort of reminder for Aaren; it was time to move forward, to make his way up the hill, rather than remaining at the base of it and looking up, filled with doubt and fear.<br/><br/>When he reached the bar and leaned against the counter to consider what he was in the mood for, Aaren smirked at his own choice of apparel. His maroon colored dress shirt, which lay comfortably and casually over a fitted white tee, nearly matched the blood red walls in every single room. Though he hadn’t planned it, he thought it was rather fitting. In his outfit, he looked like he may have been one of the wait staff, rather than an attendee to the party.<br/><br/>Shrugging it off, Aaren chose not to pay it any mind and ordered himself brännvin. When he got a questioning look, he translated into English. “It literally means burn wine.” The bartender nodded his head as if familiar with that phrasing and started making him the shot. He leaned away from the bar and glanced around at the collection of people, trying to find the hostess with the mostest in the crowd, but failing. Then again, judging from her pictures, she was bound to be very slight and very small.<br/><br/>“Here you go.” When his shot was made, Aaren turned and smiled. “Thanks,” he grabbed hold of the small glass and brought it up to his lips, then dropped his head back and gulped the liquid in one go. He slapped the glass back down when finished, hunching forward and shaking his head, exhaling a dragon sized breath, as the liquid burned all the way down - just like it promised it would. “Phew,” he finally sighed, sliding the glass back to the bartender. He motioned for another.