A few weeks later, the invitation caught fire. Not your normal orange and red flames, but green and silver, burning coolly. When Professor Wildsmythe opened the paper, she saw that the date, time and place had been neatly inked in. She folded it back up, making a not to have the house elves clean and press her dress robes. There was going to be a party.
The hotties carrying the sedan chair entered the Slytherin dungeon, and in one well-rehearsed, smoothly choreographed movement, set the chair on the floor. Dmitri offered Professor Wildsmythe his arm to balance on as she stepped to the floor. Spike’s hotties are trained as sideboys? Wildsmythe shook her head. Whatever will they think of next?
The floor of the dungeon was littered with butterbeer corks, streamers, and confetti. Silk hangings decorated the walls in orange, pink, and purple with gold lettering: “MMX -- MMXI” and Venus’s feminine cross overlaid onto Jupiter’s curlicued four. The ceiling of the dungeon reflected the stars— Wildsmythe squinted. Something was off … then she realized that the sky depicted the night of February 6, 2010.
The crowd fell silent, turning to look as one, and Spike stepped onto a small dais in the center of the room. The lights dimmed except for a single spotlight on her. She raised her arms, and music began to play. Wildsmythe recognized Holst’s The Planets Suite. Naturally, what else would it be?
Two hotties approached the stage, one male, one female, both masked. Wildsmythe started. That’s not regulation, she thought indignantly, then, just as she was about to call a stop to the party, she realized the performers were wearing flesh-colored leotards--just within school parameters of decency. The woman’s mask had bands of color, swirling slowly, and a large red spot around one eye. The man’s mask was pale and wisps of cloud trailed off from its edges, as if it were going to clear away at any moment and reveal the face underneath.
Spike smiled as the performers linked hands behind her and rose into the air. “Welcome to the Inaugural Celebration of the Festival of the 2010 Conjunction of Venus and Jupiter. When love and power are conjoined, our highest potential can be realized.” As the couple soared towards the ceiling, Wildsmythe noticed that each of the performers wore one orange sock, the man on the right foot, the woman on the left foot.
The pair swirled, aerial dancing together as the music reached its crescendo. They hooked their socked legs together, and exploded in a burst of petals—rusty tiger lily petals and white rose petals showered down on the stage and audience, who all applauded the conjunction.
Dimitri picked up the socks from the floor, brushing the petals off, and presented them to Professor Wildsmythe on a silver tray for grading.
A note inside read, “Orange for Jupiter, hearts for Venus, cables to bind them both together. Wishing you love, power, and achievement in the year to come. –Spike”