Book three of the Moonspell Series
MAGIC OF THE NIGHT: For Bella Swan, there's more then just one battle looming on the horizon. With Luna struggling to overcome her ordeal at Malfoy Manor, Victoria's plans of revenge, the growing uneasiness bet...
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The fancy bra under my gown was digging into my back and pushing my breasts up uncomfortably and in a way I wasn't used to. My neck chafed from the heavy jewelry Esme had lent me, the sleeves of my dress had stuck to my arms from all the sweat and my hair was swaying dangerously atop my head each time I turned around.
The ceremony-banquet-thing, held in honour of the to-be-announced Order of Merlin awardees, was set up in a massive ballroom filled with round tables (the muggleborn in me was snickering at this) that were all made up fancy, a stage with a podium, and a place to dance. All the witches and wizards wore dress-robes and ball-gowns, and I'd had to take two Calming potions when I arrived (and promptly freaked out despite all the preparation I'd talked myself through). Isobel had easily handed over the potions she'd had the foresight to bring with her, along with a warning that it wasn't healthy to have more then four doses a week.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and fanned myself with the pamphlet that had been lying on my chair. The ballroom was packed and the traditional flaming torches on the wall were giving off too much heat, and when you then added the constant flashing bulbs of the magical cameras, I was sweating like mad and thoroughly relieved that Alice had had the sagacity to use waterproof make-up.
"Are you okay?" Hermione Granger asked me, from where she was sitting opposite me. I was on a table with her, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley and Luna. I felt honored sitting with the heroes of the Light, even though I was aware it was Luna's odd little friendship with Harry that was responsible for our seating arrangement.
"I'm fine," I said with a weak smile. "Although I was under the impression saunas came with plunge-pools."
"I could conjure you up a cool breeze," Luna offered sweetly and I gave her a horrified look. "I was joking, Bella." She giggled and I laughed uncertainly, while breathing a silent sigh of relief. One could never be sure with Luna, and the girl could get away with murder she looked so innocent.
A sudden blast of trumpets snapped my attention to the center stage where a number of important-looking people gracefully entered from the wings to sit down in a row of stuffed chairs.
"Who are they?" I whispered.
"The ones in the red robes are the Wizengamot Elders," Neville is the one to answer, quietly. "Gran used to sit there but, well," his face turns pink, "I'm sort of Head of House Longbottom now."
"What about the other ones?" I ask.
"The ones in green, purple or white are previous awardees of an Order of Merlin. Green is First Class, purple is Second Class and white is Third Class." Hermione says in a hushed voice, peering over at them in interest. "I read about the awardees still alive while researching the Order of Merlin, as well as traditions for the ceremony. Did you know the first Order of Merlin was given out in the 15th century?"
