One More Chance (Open)

[Dylan Cooper]

Smiling brightly to himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but hope that finally him and D’rorah would enjoy a relatively uneventful ball together. Not daring to allow his mind to stray across the events surrounding both the Christmas and Masquerade Balls of the previous year, he straightened his tuxedo jacket and looked over himself once more, completely satisfied. His eyes bright, he headed down into the common room and across it, out into the hallway. His brightly polished black shoes made a light tapping sound on the marble corridor as he walked in a slightly hurried, excited fashion over to the nearest abandoned classroom. The benefit of it was that the hall it was located in was completely out of the way for anyone travelling up or down a level.

Slipping into the room, his previously faded smile extended as he looked around, double checking that everything he could remember was all set and in place. He had been working on this room for the last two weeks, taking time whenever he could to pop in and add or modify certain things. As an accumulation of his efforts, the room was covered in red decorations, all of the desks and chairs had been relocated and the class completely cleaned out. The floor was covered in grass, entirely similar to that of his small grass patch in the kitchens, and a small fountain, currently without water, stood in one corner.

Flicking his wand toward the fountain, water began bubbling down it, creating a soothing background noise that slightly helped his nerves. He was anxious to say the least, and couldn’t help but straighten his jacket once more. His hair had been carefully worked on for about half an hour, raised and flattened in all the right positions, and his long black pants and jacket were a dark, chalky black. The cotton shirt beneath was a navy blue, melding quietly with the black surrounding it. To go with it all was a small black bowtie, resting at the base of his neck soundly.

Checking his watch, he noted that there were only a few minutes left until he had asked D’rorah to meet him here. With the black blind blocking out the window in the door, he swished his wand lightly and a single blue iris emerged into his hand. Done with it, he slipped the wand up his right hand sleeve, easily within reach for the magic he was to perform soon, and waited, centered in the room and his gaze resting hopefully on the door.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah had spent far more time than usual preparing for this dance. Every other one had ended in some sort of emergency or disaster for both her and Dylan. Something told her that this night, for once, would be different. Her hair, usually pulled back into a tight updo, had been let down and her natural waves enhanced to curls before piled loosely back upon her head. A cascade of soft curls fell down seemingly haphazardly from the pins at her scalp, framing her in a halo of honey gold streaked with silver. She had almost considered coloring her hair in an attempt to hide the streaks of grey which had been left behind after her corruption, but had decided there was little point. It most likely wouldn't take anyway, given the nature of the discoloration... and D'rorah wasn't particularly vain.

Hair done up and just a bit of makeup applied sparingly were all she cared for this evening. Unlike her fellow female students, she had no desire to spend endless hours primping for this evening. No, she much preferred her own elegant, though formal, simplicity. A headband of sapphire colored crystals peeked out from beneath the curls on her head, accenting the navy blue dress she wore. Taking into consideration the scars D'rorah did not show in public, her dress was quite modest. The skirt of the dress was a full skirt, cut in an a-line--silk, with an overlaying wrap of silk organza, all supported by a crinoline. The bodice fitted in at her waist, accentuating a figure maintained through hours of hard combat training. It buttoned up the back with a row of tiny ivory colored buttons to a high collar, which wrapped around her throat. The sleeves flared out slightly at the elbows before quickly tapering to pointed ends.

All in all, the effect was rather regal. As she peered out at her schoolmates, most scurrying about in dresses so revealing, she wouldn't have worn them even without the necessity of covering her scars, she deemed her own appearance satisfactory and set out for the classroom Dylan had asked her to meet him in. The request had puzzled her endlessly, and she couldn't help but be curious as to what he had in mind as she walked swiftly down the hall, her eyes alight with the excitement of the evening. Perhaps, like any other normal student, just this once the dance would end with a goodnight kiss, rather than some hurried dash into the fray... remembering where she had been during the last dance, locked in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries during a torturous interrogation, she shuddered slightly and pushed the thoughts aside. Tonight, they would not intrude.

Seeing that she had come upon the indicated classroom, D'rorah pushed the door open and stepped inside. Immediately, her eyes scanned the room, taking in the elaborate decorations and preparations Dylan had gone to. There was even a fountain, babbling gently in the background. After several moments of awed inspection, her eyes finally fell upon the happiest sight of all, that of Dylan waiting for her. She hurried over to him. "How magnificent. Everything is exquisite. And you look so dapper," she added, her fingertips lightly fluffing the bowtie at his neck. "I cannot believe you went to all this trouble for me." Smiling, allowing herself to freely express her emotions and enjoy her happiness, she leaned forward and kissed him softly. "You are amazing, Dylan Cooper."

[Dylan Cooper]

The doorknob turning, his eyes creased and shone, and his smile widened exponentially as she entered the room, clad in a gorgeous navy blue dress that was so perfectly her. Unable to keep himself from looking over her entirety, he took as little time as possible to reach her own eyes, so eager were they to be caught in her gaze. Her hair, glorious in its length and body, was for once not pinned up completely. Instead, soft curls that suited her beautifully fell, framing her features in gold and contrasting silver that, despite the reasoning for it being there, actually looked quite amazing. A dazzling headband topped it all off, sparkling lightly green in the light from above and setting off her dress almost perfectly.

His eyes almost overcome as she moved toward him quickly, her hands fiddling with his bowtie, he raised his chin, allowing them to move more freely. His eyes never lost sight of her, however; never wished to and never planned to, for to him they had found the most beautiful woman in the world. As she smiled, she only accentuated exactly what his eyes, his mind, and his heart were telling him, and though he had come up with a reply to her second comment, it never reached his lips, falling away silently as he chose to keep his silence on the matter, and simply accept the comment as it came.

The third, however, he was readily inclined to reply to, despite the irrelevance of his chosen response to her topic focus. His words were not about him or his own qualities, nor hers; they were about the both of them, as one. Pulling back from the soft kiss, his heart beating regularly for once; steadied as it was with love, he took his time in savouring the kiss as he flicked his right arm slightly, the wand within the sleeve responding duly and a small sparrow, similar in colouring and size to that she morphed into for her animagus form, flew over from the fountain, refusing to land anywhere but in her hands.

A white gold ring in its grasp, the little claws released from around it and left the small token within her hold. His smile brighter yet than it had been that night, he was, for once, not nervous. “It’s a promise ring,” he said lightly, his eyes holding his entire world within them. After pausing for a moment, he continued. “I love you, D’rorah, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you; it’s as simple as that. Every morning when I wake up, the first thing I want to do is find your eyes, and they’re always the last thing I want to see before I go to sleep. You’ve made me more complete than I ever thought I could be, and I have no way to repay you other than to offer myself completely to you, just as I am.”

Smiling an awful lot and exerting more feeling in his voice than he had done in the last month all put together, he slowly lowered himself onto one knee and brought around the iris in his hand and offered it to her, his free hand taking hers. “You’re my everything – my friend, my lover, my confidante and my soul mate. I love you more than I could ever say. When this war is over,” he started, faltering purposefully. “When this war is over,” he repeated, ‘when’ coming out definitively. “… we will have our day.” He paused once more. “D’rorah Eisenberg Philosophy,” he said, his heart flowing freely and his mind completely clear; he knew that this was right, afterall. “Will you marry me?” His smile shining brilliantly, all he could do was wait.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah looked up into Dylan's eyes, smiling happily as he pulled back from their kiss. She couldn't help but remember all the things they had been through in the short time they had been together. The really remarkable part, in her mind was that, through it all, they had been equals... partners, rather than competitors or ranked. She noticed the slight movement of his arm and almost immediately the flutterings of a small sparrow within the room. She looked at him curiously for a moment as it was made clear she was to offer a place for her to land. Still looking at him as though trying to solve this mystery, she held up her left hand, fingers stretched out so the small bird might have a place to land.

She was quite surprised to find that, rather than landing, the sparrow instead dropped a small object into her outstretched hand. D'rorah's fingers immediately closed around it, so it would not fall to the floor. The sparrow, its mission accomplished, returned to a perch near the fountain. As D'rorah opened her hand to examine the object she had received, she saw that it was a ring. She looked up at Dylan, her eyes alight with a sudden excitement. Almost certainly, this couldn't be what she thought it was.

She listened to his words, her eyes growing brighter as she felt tears of emotion begin to swell within them. She found herself speechless for perhaps the first time in her life as Dylan spoke. Her hand automatically took the iris, her body putting itself on auto pilot as she nearly choked on the growing lump in her throat. "Dylan Richmond Cooper, there is nothing in this entire world that would make me happier than to share my life with you. You already have my heart and my soul... I cannot think of anyone I would rather be an equal with in this world."

It hit her suddenly, in what was the happiest moment of her life, just how tenuous all of these arrangements were. They had seen so many of their friends killed in just the short time they had been at Hogwarts. Far too many... D'rorah herself had nearly been among them more than once, as had Dylan. Remembering those weeks close to corruption, without emotion, she couldn't help but feel a moment of bittersweet happiness. However, she pushed all of that away, using this new, deepened bond between them as a source of continued strength for all that lay before them, rather than finding reasons from the past to undermine it.

Her hand trembling slightly, she held it out to him along with the ring, thinking it would only be proper that he was the one to place it on her finger. Her eyes locked with his as she resolved within herself that they would have their day... no, days together, no matter what she had to do to get there in the end. At that moment, it was as if the Shadow War had been won within her, this new light chasing away the darkness that seemed to lurk around every corner. And then, a thought occuring to her, she carefully sank to her knee on the floor beside him. "As equals," she remarked quietly, a smile brightening her features as she met him eye to eye at the same level.

Moving forward, she kissed him passionately, holding out the hand on which the ring would go as her free hand snaked around to comb through his hair and pull him closer to her.

[Dylan Cooper]

His eyes lit with hope as he observed her reaction to the ring, to his words, he couldn't help but be supremely overjoyed that he could enable her to be so delighted about anything; to make her so happy. His smile widening as she looked up to him, her own eyes full of what was almost definitely excitement, Dylan was so resolutely sure that she would accept the ring and yet more security swelled within him at every positive sign, as if deep down some fear resided.

With a grin that almost split his face, he listened to every word of her reply and knew he would remember them for as long as humanly possible. He considered it more than slightly unorthodox when she lowered herself to the ground, but found that it was the best possible thing she probably could have done. They weren't exactly the most orthodox couple, anyway. Taking her trembling hand in his own, he took the ring from her and, slowly but meaningfully, slid it onto her engagement finger.

His eyes meeting hers once more, he couldn't possibly envision himself being any happier. Except for maybe when her lips pushed themselves onto his own, and his heart began to race within his chest, telling him that this was by far the most perfect thing he'd ever done. Her hand traced its way through his hair and he felt himself drawn closer to her, the minimal space between them shortening ever more.

His breathing slightly heavier than usual, he pulled back with a boyishly charming grin, keeping his head close to hers all the same. "Now, I believe we have a Ball to attend," he said quietly, looking forward to enjoying a carefree, and more importantly incident-free night. Lifting himself off the ground, which thankfully was perfectly lush and absent of any mud that might have dirtied their clothes for the night. He extended a hand to help her up, that dazzling smile still fresh on his features as he wondered how on Earth they had grown so close in such a short space of time.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

"Oh yes, the ball," she agreed, realizing that she'd managed to completely forget about it in the moment. She accepted the hand stretched out to her, rising from the floor on which she'd knelt. "Perhaps this time we will actually be able to have a proper dance," she added, smiling ironically. Every attempt before at going to a school ball had been fruitless... the Halloween ball had been preempted by an attack on Dylan by some unknown person... later found to be Zane, who was now their ally. And then, the Christmas Ball she had missed entirely, having been dragged off by Unspeakables for questioning. Had she been the supersitious type, D'rorah was almost certain she would have decided to sit this function out, seeing a trend of unlucky nights. Fortunately, she wasn't superstitious and intended to enjoy herself.

Taking Dylan's arm, she made to head out into the corridor, and down to the ballroom. As a habit, she had always avoided Valentine's Day... really, holidays had never been her thing to begin with, but she supposed that could change. So many things had changed already in the past year... what would one more be? Especially such a small thing?

As they made their way into the ballroom, D'rorah saw the expected Valentine's day decorations... hearts, cupids, and the like. They looked a bit cheesy, but then, she supposed it made little sense to expect anything else. "So then, Mister Cooper," she remarked, glancing over at him, "I suppose we are expected to dance now that we have arrived at the ball." The words were spoken in her own understated manner, teasing in their own way.

[Dylan Cooper]

Grinning as she recalled their reasons for getting so dressed up, sounding surprised to discover that something not solely focused on themselves was actually happening tonight. “It would be nice,” he replied quietly, recalling the disastrous events surrounding both of the last two school Balls and allowing for his arm to be taken, smiling in reaction to the movement.

Thoroughly looking forward to the atmosphere of the event, he found a new appeal in everything as they headed down the floors; the paintings, most of which had done something for the occasion, and even the suits of armor, dressed as they were in pink ribbons or the like. One portrait of a group of men and women playing cards around a table displayed a deck with cherubs on the backs and red decorations all throughout the background. Smiling as a slightly drunk woman giggled and kissed one of the men on the cheek, followed by a rather appropriately coloured blush on the man’s part, he found that soon they faded from the marble corridors and emerged in the decadently dressed up ballroom.

Almost laughing at the cheesiness in the decorations, he found that he quite enjoyed them nevertheless. His eyebrows raising slightly as she addressed him, he offered a cheeky smile in reply and extended her and his own arms out, until they stood facing each other on the dance floor. “I think we’re slightly obligated, yes. Once we get this silly formality over with, however, we can enjoy moping around by the food table,” he replied in a deceptively serious-sounding voice.

Pulling her closer and taking a step forward in sync, they collided softly with each other and his eyes twinkled, allowing her to see that he had done it quite on purpose. The currently romantic sort of song transferred into yet another and he took up the tune, holding her close as he did so. His smile becoming something light and small, he looked at her more seriously. “I’m glad we’re finally getting our first dance,” he said softly, knowing it had been longer than it should have been in coming. But there was no use in dwindling on that series of unfortunate events now; they were both here, and enjoying themselves now, and that was all that mattered to him.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

"Oh yes, moping by the food table. To think, that in my last year of school I might have missed such a central piece of my student experience... that would have been terribly tragic." She smirked slightly as she considered the picture of the two of them, lingering over by the punch bowl. She didn't have long to think of it though, as Dylan stepped out with her onto the dance floor, swinging her in a slight arc so that their bodies gently collided. She smiled at him as she caught the twinkle in his eye, her footsteps falling into sync with his as they began to move about the dance floor.

"Yes, I suppose it was high time for a first dance," she replied. In fact, D'rorah counted this as her first dance ever. She had attended functions with dancing before... and had even danced sparingly at them, but always it had been either with her father or a quick twirl with one of the fellow diplomat's children, usually for some calculated reason on her part. For the first time, she was dancing because she had someone she truly wished to dance with. Allowing her movements to meld with the flow of the music, she focused her attention on Dylan, watching his eyes, feeling his hand at her waist. She wasn't the kind to kiss in public, so the thought of leaning in as they danced never crossed her mind, even for a moment.

When the song ended, it flowed right into the next, pulling them along from a waltz into a tango of sorts. She dreaded at any moment that the music would switch from civilized, dance-worthy sounds to something more typical of teenagers. It would happen at any moment... some sort of beat heavy, melody-less tangle of notes, the sort of noise that inspired mosh pits. Anticipating the change, she enjoyed the music while she could. Sure enough, as the tango ended, it gave way to something rather harsher on the ears. D'rorah stepped back slightly and curtsied to her partner. "Perhaps this would be the ideal time for a bit of moping near the refreshment table," she suggested, raising her voice slightly to be heard above the noise.

[Dylan Cooper]

Managing somehow to keep his laughing to a minimum, especially considering how novel it was for D'rorah to make such comments, he realised suddenly that in all the excitement of the night he'd failed to make one keen observation. Leaning his mouth close to her ear for two reasons, both to be heard easily above the noise and to add something slightly intiate to the comment, he spoke quietly. "You look beautiful tonight, D'rorah," he said softly, a content smile adorning his features as he pulled back and they continued their dance.

As the song shifted into the next, he changed his movements accordingly and found himself not only unable, but unwilling to shift his gaze from her features. From the minimalist make-up to the decadent hair arrangement, right down to the shape and colour of her dress, he was completely at home in their environment, the mood entirely right for the occasion. He knew the ballroom was practically full, but all he saw was the woman before him, and though the room was alive with conversation, all he heard was the background music, dulled against his currently perfect little bubble of reality.

He knew it could all be taken away from him, just like that; he had known so many to have fallen under the heavy feet of this war already. Whether it was him, so close so many times and lucky to be alive, or D'rorah herself, he knew that in harsh contrast to his fantasy was true reality, in which being like Dark Phoenix existed to balance such happiness. Even without the war, Dylan had come close to death several times; Zane hadn't been acting on any orders, he had simply taken an opportunity unwisely given to him, and John was just a tosspot.

When Dee had gone missing, or rather when he'd finally realised, he had been absolutely devastated. He could recall it as if it hadn't happened months ago, but hours; the heart-wrenching terror of the reality that he might never see her again, never enjoy her company, never speak to her. He had been about to offer her the ring on the night of the Christmas Ball, something he had completely psyched himself up for - but gradually the hope and happiness had faded when he had realised she wasn't coming. When she had returned, even despite the terrible circumstances, he had regained a small hope that he would finally be able to offer it to her; a hope that had flared exponentially, uncontrollably, only to leave him crushed when she had interacted with him so coldly.

And now here they were, despite the odds. They were happy, in love, and above all, they were simply together. Enjoying the simplistic bliss of being able to hold her and share a dance, the music soon shifted once more and they were left with more contemporary, favoured music. Not minding it in the least, apparantly D'rorah did, so he quietly smiled as she curtsied and nodded in response to her comment, a playful grin overtaking his features.

Taking her hand softly, he led the way through some wildly dancing groups and passed by one couple that seemed to be dancing to their own slow tune in order to reach the punch bowl. Smiling happily at a few acquaintances he passed along the way, he gathered two cups together and handed her one once full. Surrounded by the typical decorations and massive student body, he couldn't help but realise just how young he was, how young both of them really were. But, afterall, it was not an engagement ring; it was a promise ring - different in theory despite the small similarities. "Are you in the mood for socialising, Miss Prefect?" he questioned lightly, spotting several friends through the masses.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah felt a shiver pass through her as Dylan spoke into her ear. A soft smile formed on her face in response. "Thank you, Dylan," she replied back, thinking that this was the perfect night the two of them had earned many times over through the turmoil of the past school year. And to think, it had all begun with them randomly meeting in the library and then sojourning to the astronomy tower. Looking back, D'rorah realized just how quickly she had trusted Dylan with the secret of her being a Shadow Warrior... and that had set the tempo for all of their interactions. Looking back, it had been a relief to finally have someone to confide in... and looking througout their short history together, many times Dylan had been the one thing pulling her from darkness back into light, whether he knew it or not.

She watched him appreciately as he danced with her, a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes as she realized that he had perfectly coordinated the color of his attire for the evening to complement her dress. Certainly, she hadn't shown it to him beforehand. Of course, knowing that blue was her favorite color had been the easy part... knowing the shade she would chose must have been slightly more difficult. And he had gone to so much trouble to begin the evening in a way neither of them would ever forget. She could recall with startling clarity just how she had reacted to him upon being pulled back from corruption by the other Lightfighters... her own Elemental Master dead, she had been left emotionless and struggling against the spreading darkness within her.

A chill passed through her as a sudden reminder of that darkness as she accepted a cup of punch from Dylan, causing her to visibly shiver. She wondered if those random, sudden chills would always happen... or if they would fade with time. She was fortunate that the cold, emotionless shell that had inhabited Hogwarts in the days before joining with her new Elemental Master had not chased Dylan away forever. Remembering the heartbreak in his eyes at the way he had been treated nearly broke her heart even now.

Dylan's voice pulled her back to the present, and she looked over at him. "Socialization has never been one of my favorite activities, as you are well aware, Mister Cooper. However, I suppose it would seem odd to abstain from interaction with our fellow students. She smirked slightly. In truth, her disdain was merely habit. The other Lightfighters, at least, she found to be worthy acquaintances. And in most instances, she had slowly come to enjoy their company. Who knew, at some point she might even feel familiar enough with some of them to allow herself the familiarity of addressing them by their first names. For some reason, her usual formal method of address--acquired from her father's own staunch formality--seemed to discomfit her colleagues.

She followed Dylan's gaze to the friends he had spotted through the throng of students. "Lead the way," she added, with a gracious nod of her head. Mentally, she told herself to loosen up and enjoy the evening... knowing herself, she also knew the admonition had little chance of being obeyed very closely. Too many years of being shunned by her fellow students at Falstaffs had made simply enjoying the pleasure of the company of others a task easier said than done. As they passed through the crowd, she could feel herself putting up her normal walls, concealing the expression on her face so that her mood and thoughts would be indiscernable. Some mistook it for haughtiness, but really, it was merely a method of protection that had served her well for quite some time.