⚜ EVENING, 25TH JULY, 1990, THE GOJO ESTATE ⚜
THE GOJO ESTATE stood proudly against the velvet night sky, draped in exquisite decorations. Enchanted lanterns cast a soft golden glow along the winding paths that led to the main entrance, where guests arrived in a steady, glamorous procession, ushered in by the shikigami.
The grand hall of the main house buzzed with the murmur of conversation, bursts of laughter, and the subtle hum of heightened ambient magic that seemed to infuse the very walls during gatherings like this.
Every arrival was announced at the entrance by the head shikigami, whose deep, resonant voice echoed across the estate as it called out the titles of the heads of each of the arriving processions:
"Lady Yua of the Inumaki Clan!"
"Lord Rafael of the Apocalypse Line!"
"Lady Isabelle of the Zabini line!
Inside, the grand hall came alive with splendor. Jasmine had always thought it curious how the very space seemed to breathe during these gatherings, as though the estate itself welcomed the buzz of noble intrigue.
The walls, adorned with shimmering silks enchanted to reflect ambient magic, almost seemed to shift in hue as clusters of guests moved about, their footsteps cushioned by ancient woven carpets that had been in the family for generations.
At the center of the hall, beneath the floating chandeliers enchanted to mirror the evening sky, stood the core of the gathering — where the most powerful naturally congregated, exchanging pleasantries with practiced ease.
Naturally, among them were the hosts, the Potters, poised at the heart of it all.
They were a sight to behold, draped in resplendent attire inspired by Japanese nobility. James stood tall in a formal montsuki haori, his black silk robe embroidered with intricate gold patterns that mirrored his family crest, exuding an understated elegance befitting his station.
Lily, ever radiant, stood beside him, her presence amplified by the deep crimson of her furisode. The long, flowing sleeves of the garment billowed gracefully as she moved, the delicate cherry blossom motifs embroidered in silken threads shimmering.
Jasmine and her sisters wore complementary kimono, each adorned with unique floral designs in soft pastel hues, symbolizing their individual grace while maintaining a harmonious unity. Their aesthetics particularly complemented Ivy's ornate glasses.
Their ensembles were completed with obi sashes tied in elaborate bows and hairpins of jade and pearl, reflecting their heritage with every delicate detail. Together, they commanded the room's attention, their poise and refinement elevating them to something truly extraordinary.
Following protocol, Jasmine remained close to her parents and sisters, offering polite greetings and engaging in the expected niceties.
As expected, dialogue here flowed like the tides, rising and receding with subtle shifts in power. Nobles gravitated toward influential figures, vying for proximity, each interaction a delicate performance.
There were lighthearted exchanges, to be sure, but beneath the surface, most conversations were anything but. Compliments masked veiled barbs, polite inquiries probed for information, and even a brief glance or lingering handshake carried hidden meaning.
"Lord Saito," Jasmine overheard one lady say as she passed, her tone as light as a breeze, "I trust your… recent ventures have been fruitful? We were just discussing how tricky it must be to maintain holdings in the Kyoto Prefecture these days."
A seemingly innocent comment, but Jasmine caught the flicker of tension in the expression of the lord in question — the poor man was about to get eaten alive. As far as Jasmine had heard, he had gotten himself in some financial troubles recently.
The poor man looked terrified, his gaze darting about the room as if searching for a way out. Jasmine's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, the way his hands fidgeted beneath his sleeves, how the edges of his robe seemed to sag with the weight of some unspoken burden.
Lord Saito's family had never been one of significant power, their name a mere whisper among the more influential houses. Their wealth was moderate, their influence confined to a few key business ventures and holdings, particularly in Kyoto.
But despite their relatively low profile, they were known for one thing: their longstanding benefaction to the Time Vessel Association — a strange church-like cult organization that held a significant amount of power thanks to having a number of wealthy benefactors.
In recent times, however, Saito had gotten himself involved in shady operations, and, apparently, he lost a lot of resources because of them, and crossed some dangerous people in the process.
According to the grapevine, he had even lost the support of that he had from the Association, since he reneged on some deal and promises he had made to them. All of it compounded to form a sordid situation for the Saito family.
The Saito family mirrored Lord Saito's discomfort with palpable unease. They were clearly out of their depth in the glittering world of powerful houses, their facade of aristocratic grace barely concealing the weight of their troubled situation.
Well, in any case, it wasn't her business.
If Lord Saito's family had crossed someone dangerous, it was their problem, not hers. Still, she couldn't shake the small niggling feeling that this time, the Saitos might be involved in something big.
As the Potters moved around the grand hall, greeting nobles and exchanging pleasantries with polished grace, Jasmine found her attention drifting, albeit unnoticeably. Her anticipation for her cousin's arrival mounted with each passing moment.
At least when Ashley arrived, they'd be able to slip away. It was getting boring without her here to escape with. Great Heavens, if she had to listen to another undeservedly arrogant lady "think out loud" about inviting "the esteemed Lady Lily and her beautiful daughters" to visit her "prestigious salon" …
Ah, no point in thinking about it — just slug through it long enough for Ashley to get here, Jasmine thought, steeling herself.
Just when Jasmine thought things couldn't get much worse, her family found themselves face-to-face with a certain individual whose mere presence made her mood plummet — someone that the family had been trying to avoid: Molly "Dumbledore-stan" Weasley.
Ugh, curse the ambient magic.
Neither Jasmine nor Ivy had been able to keep their mystical eyes open throughout the event — an ability that would have been quite useful when it came to avoiding unwanted encounters like this one.
The heightened ambient magic flowing through the Gojo Estate was too potent, saturating the atmosphere and making it impossible to control the inflow of information.
Of course, while Jasmine could turn her ability on or off at will, Ivy had a different, more cumbersome way of managing her senses. She relied on her cursed glasses, an ancient artifact handed down through her family.
The glasses were enchanted to shield her from the overwhelming influx of information that her perceptive abilities could bring. Ivy didn't like wearing them all the time, preferring to keep them off whenever she could.
However, without them in public places, Ivy's senses would be like an open floodgate, bombarded with far too much at once — every whisper, every glance, every lingering intention swarming her mind in a chaotic storm.
They allowed Ivy to focus her mind and filter out the overwhelming tide of sensory input, giving her a semblance of control. But, as Jasmine had discovered, the glasses didn't solve everything.
They were a crude method of protection, a band-aid solution, at best. The real issue was that neither Jasmine nor Ivy had yet figured out how to lower the flow of information in a more refined way.
Jasmine, unfortunately, couldn't rely on Room for that, yet.
While it offered some relief, allowing her to filter and organize the information she processed, it was still far from advanced enough to regulate or reduce the sheer volume of sensory input she experienced.
It could manage the chaos for a short while, but when it came to the delicate art of controlling what she needed to see versus what she didn't, the technique fell short.
Until they cracked the problem, they were stuck toggling their senses on and off like flipping a switch — an imperfect solution, but one they had learned to live with.
Had they kept their eyes open for more than a few seconds, the overload of sensory input would have bombarded their minds with so much data that they would have risked severe consequences — nausea at best, aneurysms at worst.
It really wasn't worth the danger. Unfortunately, it also meant that the Potters were stuck navigating the party more or less blind, relying on normal — if slightly heightened — senses to spot potential problems.
They had also somehow forgotten to issue one crucial instruction — to warn the shikigami about the Weasleys. Normally, the estate's guardian spirits were impeccable at guiding the Potters around any potential nuisances.
It was a practical system, one that each of the Potters had relied on countless times to avoid unpleasant encounters during such events, but tonight, the sheer number of errands, last-minute preparations, and guests to tend to had thrown that safeguard completely off the list.
It had been one chaotic blur. Between welcoming dignitaries, overseeing enchanted displays, managing ceremonial protocols, and discreetly reinforcing the ambient magic flows, the Potters had barely had a moment to breathe.
Amid all that, remembering to warn the shikigami about a specific family, as annoying as that family might be, had slipped through the cracks.
And that was how they'd walked right into the Weasleys. If Jasmine had been able to see the crowd properly, she and her family would have been out of there faster than a Portkey on a countdown timer.
Molly was being accompanied by her rather large family, which was, thankfully, more tolerable. Most of the Weasleys were a pleasant and wholesome bunch. The twins — Fred and George — were hilarious and always knew how to liven things up.
Arthur Weasley was a genuinely nice guy, eccentric and fascinated by Muggle technology in a way that was oddly endearing. Bill, with his calm demeanor and subtle charm, was also pretty agreeable.
Unfortunately, however, every family had its sour grapes — this one included.
"James!" Molly chirped with a saccharine cheerfulness that set Jasmine's teeth on edge as she bustled forward to intercept the Potters. With that one ill-timed exclamation, she obliterated any chance the family might have had of pretending not to have seen her.
To make things worse, Molly had addressed her father as though they were old friends casually meeting at the local market, not as though they were standing in the midst of one of the most prestigious gatherings of the year.
Jasmine caught her father's subtle grimace — a mere flicker that passed so quickly most wouldn't have noticed — before he expertly plastered on a polite smile. "Ah, Lady Molly," he replied smoothly, with just enough emphasis on "Lady" to remind her, gently but unmistakably, that this was a formal event, and titles mattered.
Molly, of course, either missed the hint entirely or chose to ignore it.
Really, the Potters were being far too kind in merely giving Molly any attention at all, but that was only because they knew how much could be ruined if Molly Weasley decided to begin one of her infamous antics.
She wasn't just oblivious to social cues — she tended to bulldoze over them entirely. And in a gathering as politically charged as this one, where reputations could rise or fall on the slightest misstep, a misplaced comment or tactless outburst could cause untold damage.
For all her seemingly well-meaning nature, Molly had a penchant for unsolicited advice, loud opinions, and an almost maternal, yet invasive, authority over people who neither wanted nor needed it.
The Potters weren't about to allow Molly to destroy the night with her usual obliviousness and forceful opinions. It was exactly the sort of thing that could snowball disastrously in a setting like this.
A single ill-timed remark or tactless comment could create ripple effects through the entire evening, and nobody wanted to be caught in the aftermath. And so, the Potters smiled, nodded, and played along — for now. It was safer that way.
Luckily, most of the Weasleys made it easy enough to endure, aside from Ginevra and Ron, whose very presence seemed to test Jasmine's self-control.
Arthur, Bill, and Charlie were polite and composed, exchanging pleasantries without overstepping. Percy, true to form, stood stiffly with an air of self-importance but kept his silent.
The twins were surprisingly subdued for once, though that was only because they were busy trying to downplay their presence for the sake of their sanity. They were perceptive enough to understand the awkwardness of the situation their mother was creating
Ron, however, could barely mask his immense discontent. He stood with his arms crossed, a petulant scowl tugging at his face as he glanced around the lavish hall with undisguised resentment.
Jasmine could almost hear the complaints forming in his mind — something about "rich snobs" or "fancy rubbish," no doubt. His attitude wasn't new to her, but it didn't make it any less grating.
Ginevra, meanwhile, had positioned herself slightly ahead of her brothers, casting frequent glances at Jasmine, Ivy, and Rose with an expression that was hard to read — somewhere between envy and defiance.
She seemed determined to be noticed, though for what reason, Jasmine couldn't quite tell. Whether it was to prove something to herself or to others, the younger girl's posture practically screamed, Look at me. I belong here, too.
Jasmine bit back a sigh. She could almost pity Ginevra if the girl weren't so insistent on projecting her insecurities outward in the form of smugness and entitlement.
Ugh, damage prevention was really tough.
Between Molly's faux-friendly aggression, Ron's rotten attitude, and Ginevra's entitled demeanor, the Weasleys were like an unstable powder keg that could ignite with the smallest disturbance.
May the heavens, give me strength, Jasmine thought irascibly. Where the hell is Ashley, anyway?
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Author here. 🥸
I have little to no experience with parties, much less those of the elites, so please bear with whatever lack of social awareness I might display. 😭
Also, I wanted to use this opportunity to show how Jasmine, while talented, isn't a Mary Sue, so yeah. 👍
Oh, and that Room function that I mentioned in Jasmine's thoughts is inspired by the Ope-Ope no Mi's Room ability, therefore having most its characteristics and abilities, but with certain refinements to increase its versatility and reduce and/or remove some of its limitations. 👍
As for her eyes, they're basically like a refined fabrication of the Six Eyes — though they are equal to, if not better than the Six Eyes, so not really a fabrication. 🤷♂️👍
Also, drop them stones and reviews, please! 👍