Marie-Anna Greyton is hiding, indeed, first day of school and she’s already hiding in the shadows of Gryffindor commons, and, if you look close enough, you’ll see that she’s also a pleasent shade of Gryffindor scarlet. She matches teh chair she’s seated in in the shadows.

Kelly Pantall all but skips into the Common room, though exactly what it is that has her in such a good mood is entirely uncertain. After all, she hasn’t had enough time to have done anything exciting yet. Then again, perhaps it is merely being back at school – that’s not entirely impossible, after all. “Miss Marie-Anna! Miss Marie-Anna!” Regardless of whether the prefect wants privacy, she’s not going to adhere to that – her conversation is far too interesting.

Marie-Anna Greyton looks up as she hears Kelly’s voice. “Yes, Kelly?” she questions, doing her best to school her appearance so that she’s not a violent shade of red. “Have you alredy gotten into trouble, on the first day?” not that she actually expects this.

Kelly Pantall shakes her head firmly, her limp curls flying, and puts her hands on her hips – her expression is still cheerful, though, and she doesn’t seem remotely annoyed. “Of course I haven’t gotten into trouble! Why would I get into trouble? I just wanted to talk to you and, and, I heard about you and Mister Prefect Sir.” Even after having screamed it out last term at the Date Auction, she’s not comfortable calling him by his first name.

Marie-Anna Greyton quirks. “What about Martin and I? Huh?” wait for it, wait for it… and the light finally turns on and… indeed… she does turn a rather scarlet hue of red, blushing.

Kelly Pantall claps her hands at this, as though there is no greater joy than seeing the prefect blush and, without invitation, perches herself on a seat close to Marie-Anna. “Well, it was pretty hard to miss,” she opines knowingly, nodding slowly. “So, are you two officially sweethearts, now? Or is it just for the sake of the dance? You did hug him.” And, suddenly, hugging is a horrific crime, one which she treats with due suspicion. “I’m thinking about who I will ask to the dance. You know,” now it is her turn to blush faintly, “Rafe DeWitt wrote to me over the summer.”

Marie-Anna Greyton shakes her head. “No, we’re going strictly as friends. I figured that, seeing as Angelina was no longer here, well,” she shrugs her shoulders a little. “And yes, I hugged him, as a friend, in congratulations, of course.”

“Ah, well, in congratulations…” Whatever Kelly is thinking is hidden behind a veil of her trying to look wise, though quite utterly failing. “So, it’s just for the sake of the dance, well. Why are you blushing so much, then?” Because blushing fiercely is suspicious in other people, but there’s nothing wrong with the fact that her own cheeks are still faintly pink.

Marie-Anna Greyton blinks. “Yes, just for the sake of the dance. Truth is is I wouldn’t have anyone else to ask, though I’m sure plenty of others would have asked him, and, I figured if I was going to go, best go with a friend, right, so…” she shrugs. “And I’m not blushing…”

Kelly Pantall seems entirely unconvinced of this fact, peering unflatteringly at Marie-Anna’s face. “You’re either blushing or someone accidentally changed the colour of your face.” This, however, is entirely possible, and she nods slowly. “You should go to the hospital wing and get someone to reverse that. It makes it look like you’re blushing, very ferociously.”

Marie-Anna Greyton blinks. “Neither, Kelly, I swear, I’m not blushing, I’m just…. naturally this shade,” she’s lying through her teeth, it’s not like it’s an unknown fact that Marie has a HUGE crush on the Head Boy.

“No, you’re not.” Kelly replies bluntly, inspecting Marie-Anna carefully. “You’re not usually that colour, you’re a lot paler and less red.” Her own blush has since faded, so at least she’s not looking quite so hypocritical anymore. Especially because of course she would never do something like that which she is accusing Marie-Anna of.

Rawnie Weller comes back up from the girl’s dorms looking a little panicked. “Where is he? Ohhh where is Figaro?” Rawnie runs around the common room looking under couches and cushions…. into bags and boxes. “They said they would bring our pets up to our rooms but I can’t find Figaro!” The little girl squeals.

Marie-Anna Greyton grumbles. “I’ll have you know, I got a tan over the summer,” she states. And, indeed, her appearance has changed since her fifth year. At this point, however, she see’s Rawnie. “They did, if it’s not in your dorm it’s probably gotten into the house.”

Kelly Pantall still doesn’t seem convinced of Marie-Anna’s logic, shaking her head slowly and peering at her all the while. “But tan is sort of brown, not bright red… and you’re not so red now, but you were very red before.” Then, she pauses, and changes the subject completely. “Who should I ask? Hey, you – newly sorted! Who are you going to ask?”

Rawnie Weller frowns and looks around the common room some more. “I don’t see him no place! Where is he? The small girl takes a deep breath and lets out an ear splitting “FIGAROOOOOO!!!! COME OUT!!” But to no avail. “Where is my owl?” She sniffle softly apparently no knowing the Owls stay in the Owlery.

Marie-Anna Greyton chuckles. “You’re owl. He’ll be in the owlery, toads and cats are brought to the commons, owls to the owlery,” she states, nodding, before she ducks her head. She is not blushing, honestly.

Kelly Pantall seems to be getting rather impatient that no one is answering her question, but it seems that a perfectly logical way to do this is to repeat her question, but louder. “Miss Marie-Anna, who should I ask, now you’re going with Mister Prefect Sir?” Because, obviously, asking the Head Boy is the appropriate course of action.

Rawnie Weller sighs hearing that bit of information. The girl plops down onto the nearest couch not bothering to fix the now disheavled mess she has made. She props her mismatched socked feet up on the coffee table. “Oh well thats good. Because Owls should’nt be in the dorms anyway. They make a mess. Figaro dosn’t though hes a clean bird but every other bird would make a mess.”

Marie-Anna Greyton blinks. “Have you considered Rafe? I know you two are good friends, and I’d say go with a friend, that’s what I’m doing, after all,” she points out with a smile. “Indeed, Miss Weller, when you need to go see him you can just go to the owlery, they’re far more comfortable there anyway.”

Kelly Pantall shrugs vaguely, being entirely unable to see fault in this logic, then looks down at her lap with slightly pinked cheeks. “He wrote me a letter.” Yes, she has already said this, and she is going to say it again. “So I suppose I should ask him. It was a very nice letter.”

Rawnie Weller perks up a little guessing the girls must be talking about the dance. “Am I allowed to ask any boy I want? Can I ask a boy to not come to the dance?” Immediatly her mind focuses on Andy. “People who don’t eat meat are likely untrustworthy……” Where she got this idea is anyone’s guess.

Marie-Anna Greyton smiles at Kelly. “I think I should go… uh…. find my formal robes… I do need to figure out what to wear to this event, after all…” Oh, dear, Marie is worrying about clothes?! this can’t be good. “They’re not untrustworthy, Miss Weller, it’s just personal choice, really.” And with that the still furiously blushing prefect heads to her dorm.

Kelly Pantall watches Marie-Anna as she makes her exit, shrugging her shoulders lightly and looking at Rawnie. “I suppose. I’ve never heard stories about not eating meat, but they might be untrustworthy. I’d be more likely not to trust them if they were murderers.” Because that’s a logical progression. She nods firmly, then peers at Rawnie for a moment, and queries, “Should I ask Rafe DeWitt to the dance? He wrote me a letter.”

“Well I bet not eating meat will drive him to become a murderer!” Her eyes shift back and forth. The little redhead has quite an imagionation in her head. “He threatened to feed me to a Giant too! Everyone heard him!” Rawnie blinks a little realizing Kelly asked a question. “Who’s Rafe? Is that your boyfriend or somthin?”

Kelly Pantall gasps, having apparently not considered this before, and nods her fervent agreement. “I’ve never heard of it happening before, but it could happen! You know, I bet you’re right.” Then, a pause, and though she blushes very brightly pink, she shakes her head. “No, he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend.” She pulls a piece of folded parchment out of her pocket and hands it over. It’s probably the most impersonal letter in the history of teenage boy-girl summer correspondence, but it’s a letter.

Rawnie Weller looks over the letter skimming it quickly because of how…. impersonal and boreing it is. “Wow…. he sounds kind of boreing don’t he?” Handing the letter back to Kelly she scoots up on the couch so that her feet hand off the side not touching the floor anymore. “You better ask somone else. He’d probably fall asleep or somthin.”

Kelly Pantall snatches the letter back with renewed annoyance, shoving it back in her pocket while glaring at Rawnie icily. “He is not boring, and would not fall asleep.” Her voice is waspish, edged with an unprecedented annoyance. “He’s just not a very good letter-writer. This a very above-average letter.”

Rawnie Weller giggles a little and kicks her feet back and forth. “If that’s his above average then I bet his normal letters are about three words long huh? Maybe he dosn’t like ya? I know sometimes boys say they like girls but then they don’t because they just wanna tease ya. Boys are like that and all and well most girls are just dumb enough to fall for it and I think he would fall asleep because if you can’t stay awake long enough to wright a proper letter how can you stay awake long enough ta dance?” Rawnie has to take a deep breath at the end of her statement as usuall because her mouth ran away with her.

Kelly Pantall blushes even brighter pink, fingering the parchment in her pocket with a distinct rustling sound as she glares at Rawnie. “He doesn’t usually write letters. That’s why this letter is so above average. And he’s never actually said he likes me, so therefore he can’t be teasing me!” She sticks her tongue out, ever so maturely, having officially won this argument by her terms. Because, obviously, that’s appropriate logic.

“Yeah but did he say he didn’t like ya?” Rawnie flashes a huge smile at Kelly. “I think ifa boy wrights ter ya during the summer it means he must wan’t ya to think he likes ya. See wot I mean?” Does Rawnie even know what she means? “And you must like him back cause your blushin ya big ninny.”

Briony Wexler comes running down the stairs from the second year girls’ dormitories looking rather dissheveled. “Whimsy! C’mere, kitty, kitty, kitty…” the second year sighs a bit as she looks around the room, scratching her head. Deciding that cats can be tricky (and doesn’t she know it), Briony gets down onto her hands and knees, glancing around underneath various couches and chairs, trying to find the little cat somewhere within her commonroom.

Kelly Pantall bites down on her lower lip, folding her arms across her chest (the letter now in hand rather than her pocket) and trying with all her might not to leap on Rawnie and beat her into the ground. “I asked him to write to me, so he’s not trying to persuade me that he likes me. I think he might like me, but if he does, it’s not some evil ploy. And I’m not a ninny.” This seems to be the worst of Rawnie’s words, and the poor girl is so very near beating on her.

Rawnie Weller scoots a little closer to Kelly giggleing. either she has no idea Kelly is annoyed and is innocent or she knows exactly what she is doing and is egging her on. “Well if hes writing you cause you asked him he obviously wants ya ter think he likes you. Or he really does like you an hes your boreing narca….narca….sleepy boyfriend.”

Felicity Wexler sits quietly on the floor in front of the fire, her knees hugged against her chest as a soft breath escapes her. A hairbrush rests on the soft carpet next to her, apparently forgotten, as she quietly watches the small, flickering flames. Something weighing on her mind more heavily, for once, than her wildly unmanagable bush of golden curls.

“He’s not my boring narca-sleepy boyfriend!” Kelly almost explodes with this news, putting her hands firmly on her hips and crushing the letter in her fist. “You’re – you’re just obsessed with sweetheartness! Not everyone who writes to each other over the summer is sweethearty! I got a letter from a prefect, too, and a girl, and you’re not saying they’re my boyfriends. You’re just jealous because you couldn’t attract any boys to you, because you talk stupid and can’t even pronounce the word narcoleptic!” See, Kelly can pronounce it, and is hence superior.

Crawling backwards, Briony keeps looking for Whimsy, though she is having no luck. How could a grown cat hide so well? Still crawling, the girl isn’t paying attention to who or what she might be bumping into as she is on the quest for her treasured pet. It isn’t long before she’s headed straight for the fire, looking upon seats and underneath tables and couches. Soon the girl comes to a stop as her leg runs into something that strangely isn’t moving. She pushes against it a few times before looking to see what — or who — it could be. “Ugh, Felicity!” Briony groans. “You are in my way.” The girl frowns a bit and sits back on her knees, her arms crossed. “How am I suposed to find Whimsy when you’re in the way?”

Rawnie Weller rolls her eyes with a small smile on her face. “If hes not your boyfriend why are you carrying his letter around in yer pocket? Why are ya gettin all worked up and sweethearty defendin him?” Rawnie obviosly has a point. Obviously….. “And so what I couldn’t pronounce it? Its just a dumb word that means sleepy.”

Kelly Pantall takes a deep breath – as a deep a breath as one possibly can – and closes her eyes for the count of ten. Once calm, she shoots another deathly glare at Rawnie. “It is not. Narcoleptic means he falls asleep all the time for no reason, and sleepy means… sleepy. So you really are stupider than I thought. I bet you were raised by farmer muggles in the middle of nowhere and don’t know anyhing about anything.” She very carefully avoids explaining why she’s carrying his letter around in her pocket. Very carefully.

Felicity Wexler had begun to turn her eyes toward Pantail and the first-year, especially after Kelly’s voice began to lift; but the sudden shock of Briony’s feet in to her back and bum surprises her enough that she gives a smart little squeal and a brilliant little jump. Shift back, her eyes fall on her cousin with a neutral expression at first, if for only just a moment. Even, perhaps, a little sad. But, naturally, that was before Briony went and openned her big, dumb mouth. In a heart beat, a whole day’s worth of quiet hurt and stored up energy burst on to her features all at once. “What? Lost your dumb ol’ cat?” Felicity says, spitefully. Even quite nastily, all things considered. “Good! Probally couldn’t stand you anymore and ran away.”

“My cat is not dumb!” Briony becomes indignant at this comment and frowns hard at her cousin. “You’re so mean. Besides, at least I’m doing something perductive, rather than fussing with my stupid ol’ hair. It’s still bushy anyway. Maybe you should have your precious Gran just chop it all off.” Briony hmphs and scoots past Felicity rather rudely, bumping her intentionally this time as she continues to look for her cat. “Heeeere kitty, kitty, kitty…”

Rawnie Weller glares back at Kelly now rather hard. Its one thing to call her stupider but its entirely another thing to call her hometown nowhere… which it is…. but still. “My pop is not a Muggle farmer hes a Muggler animal Docter! And so what if where I live is small! I get to play in the woods and go fishin any time I wan’t while your swoonin over some lazy bloke what writes poorly!” Thats telling her Rawnie!

“I bet you can’t even read!” Kelly declares in response, screwing up the letter even more in her rage. “That’s – that’s why you think his letter was so poor! You can’t even actually read, so you don’t know what he said.” She will defend this letter to the death. It was such a good letter, she can’t bear for it to be mocked. More importantly… “And besides, I’m not swooning!”

Felicity Wexler doesn’t take that intentional bumping well, as flash of anger blossoms in inside her brilliant enough to demand she retaliates. Turning herself just so that she make the best of an attempt to get her hands on Briony’s hip and side, she gives her least favorite cousin hearty shove. Of course, being the scrawny bean-pole she is, that may or may not mean a lot, but there it is. “You started it! And don’t talk about my gran!”

“I did not start it! You called my cat dumb, so I can talk about your precious Gran!” Briony heaves herself back in Felicity’s direction, shoving the girl back with equal force, if not greater, given the fact that she is a bit pudgy. “You had no right to be calling my cat dumb! What did he ever do to you?” Briony frowns at Felicity and starts crawling away again, under the idea that she is still looking for the creature, though she is now so angry as to be distracted from her actual task.

Rawnie Weller shouts loudly at Kelly “I can read you big stupi…..” but stops mid sentence watching Briony and Felicity start shoving each other. “Hey hey! Stop that yer sisters aren’t ya? I’ll help you find your cat! Don’t fight!” When poor innocent little cat is lost there is no time for fighting!

Kelly Pantall bites on her lower lip a little harder, trying to resist the urge to beat on her when she’s not looking. But of course, she wouldn’t do something like that. Of course. When Rawnie’s not paying attention, the older Gryffindor girl steps forward and kicks her in the leg. “I’m not stupid! And don’t talk bad about Rafe! He’s a good kid!”

Felicity Wexler does practically tumble back as Briony pushes her; it doesn’t take much to knock the tiny wisp of a girl over. Especially when she’d already been sitting in such an awkward position. “I did not start it!” She hisses, her tone a bit warbly; a bit more emotional, and far more angry than one would expect for a few shoves. “YOU bumped in to ME!” Crawling over on her knees as fas as they will carry her, she gives Briony another hard shove. This time; as earnest and might as she can make it, in emphisis to her words. “And YOU didn’t say SORRY, so I CAN call your cat DUMB! DUMBCATDUMBCATDUMBCATDUMBCAT!” It’s almost as if she had just bottled up a whole day’s worth of fight to make sure she could have one spectacularly mad at the end of the day.

“My cat IS NOT DUMB!” The voice escalates as she says this. “Your GRAN is dumb! Did you hear that? DUMB!” Such mature arguments! Briony reaches out and gives Felicity’s hair a good yank, not hearing at all Rawnie’s pleas. “And your hair is dumb, too! And your hairbrush! And your dumb ol’ watch!” Briony yanks her hair again and sticks her tongue out at her cousin. “I can’t believe I’m related to you!” Briony UGHS rather loudly and starts trying to stand up, to go back upstairs. Perhaps Whimsy was in her quarters after all.

“OW!!! You kicked me, Smelly!” Maybe Rawnie meant Kelly or maybe she really did mean Smelly. Whichever it may be the small red head jumps at Kelly flinging her arms and trying to bite whatever part of Kelly she can get in her teeth.

Kelly Pantall grabs Rawnie by the arms and tries to wrestle her down, evading the teeth as best she can, kicking her legs wildly. “Teeth isn’t allowed! Whenever I fight with my brother, teeth isn’t allowed!” This is said at more of a yelp than normal speech, and she reaches up to yank at Rawnie’s hair, pulling her head down at an awkward angle. “Now take back what you said about Rafe!”

Felicity Wexler gives a mighty great squeal as her hair is tugged, her eyes widening in that universal ‘you are so dead’ sort of way. Moving as quickly and deftly as her clumbsy form will allow, she reaches out to snag a fistful Briony’s hair and yanks down on it. It’s almost artful, as if she had practiced just the right moment to use Briony’s upward movement and her own downward thrust for maximum effectiveness.. Kelly and Rawnie are completely lost to Felicity as she unleashes her voice on Briony, accompanied by another hard tug with each and every emphisized word. “Well, your CAT is DUMB, and your MUM is DUMB, and your BOOK is DUMB! And I wouldn’t be related to YOU if I didn’t HAVE to be!” Her hands are actually shaking at this point.

This act causes Briony to literally fall backwards, right atop Felicity, her size being rather formidable in the fall. “YOUR mum is dumb, and my mum isn’t! I have the best mum in the WORLD!” Briony scrambles a bit, trying to get out of the pile of Brilicity that the two girls currently are. She manages to throw a punch at Felicity, as well as a slap to her face. “You have a dumb family! And your mum and dad are OLD, and your Gran is even OLDER! She’s practically dead!” Briony‘s eyes start to fill with tears of anger as she slaps at Felicity again, trying to get a good handful of the blonde’s hair. “Don’t pull my hair, neither! It’s prettier than yours, anyway!”

Rawnie Weller yells as her hair is pull and her legs are kicked. Kelly may be bigger but Rawnie has been in a lot of fights with boys Kelly’s size and Rawnie has short hair making it pretty easy for her to pull herself free with minimle damage. Next she grabs the older girl’s wrist and sinks her teeth in as hard as she may.

Kelly Pantall has had a lot of experience fighting with boys, but most of them quite substantially bigger than Rawnie and so, hence, she is finding the fight rather difficult, and she cries out in pain as her wrist is bitten. Then, as a sort of way to get back at her, she punches Rawnie in the eye.

Felicity Wexler works her best in to the struggle, Briony’s bulk comparitive to her own sufficent enough to knock some of the wind from her, and to leave her more or less an sitting (well, squirming) target for both the punch and the slap. Her breath catches, though, as Briony words reach her. She’d been fighting earnestly up until this point, but even so; somewhere inside, she was restraining. Somewhere inside, no matter how much they fought, Briony was family and she never really wanted to hurt her. But for a moment; one single moment, that changes. Because of one word. When Briony uses the word ‘dead’, something snaps inside of Felicity. And turning under Briony with purpose, borrowing from strength she never knew she had, she brings her hand back and issues a slap aimed at her cousin’s cheek. A real slap. A ‘I’m not playing anymore’ slap. “I HATE YOU!” She screams, tears rolling down her cheeks.. “I HATE YOU, BRIONY!”

“I HATE YOU, TOO, FELICITY!” Briony hollers back, tears starting to stream down her own face. That slap is going to leave a mark. Briony hauls out and slaps Felicity back in the face, grabbing her hair with one hand, tight, and her wrist with the other. “You’re SO MEAN! I can’t believe we’re RELATED!” Briony‘s yells come out more as sobs as the girl is almost crying too hard to feel mean anymore. “I can’t believe you’re so mean.” The twelve-year-old is full-out sobing now, but her grips on Felicity’s wrist and hair do not lighten in any way.

Rawnie Weller reels back from the punch to her little eye making her let go of Kelly’s wrist in a hurry. With her hands over her eyeball she snarles angrily “You stupid ninny! No whonder your boyfriend only wrote you a small letter!” With that Rawnie runs head first into Kelly headbutting her in the stomach full on.

“HE’S NOT MY BOYF – OOF!” As Kelly gets a head to the stomach, her indignancy fades and she all but snarls, scratching at Rawnie with her nails, not taking a moment to recover from being winded. “Stop saying that he is.” When she does speak again, her voice is more of a wheeze.

Melvina Prichard emerges from the portrait hole with a decided look of equal surprise and disgust.. “What on earth is going on in–well, I never!” A deep breath fills the Headmistress as she assumes her most serious, authoritive mask; the same one she mysteriously gifted with the day she gave birth to her daughter, a mother’s white-hot, righteous anger. “LADIES!” She calls, her voice somehow hardly seeming to rise, yet literally booming across the common room. “Control yourselves!” Her tone, unlike the pleasant, somewhat sly amusement she spoke with at the Sorting, is firm, confident, and clearly unhappy. “Now!”

Kelly Pantall scrambles to her feet at once, blushing ferociously, the tattered and wrinkled piece of parchment that once was a letter falling to the ground by her side. “I’m s-sorry, Headmistress. She said my friend wrote bad letters and I shouldn’t go to the dance with him because he’d fall asleep, and I was defending him. Then she bit my wrist.” She profers her hand, bitemark on the wrist included, for inspection.

Felicity Wexler is sobbing as well, her heaving gasps of breath and torrent of tears preventing her from saying or doing much else by try to somehow kick at Briony with her knees and rake up what she can reach of her cousin’s arms with her fingernails. The shocking, authorative boom from Melvina does catch her somewhat off guard, though, and she relents at least partially with her savagery.. but she doesn’t dare forgo the battle until Briony does.

Rawnie Weller rubs her sore eye and whimpers feeling the scratches. is she going to stop just because the HeadMistress is there? Yes…. her father would have kittens if she got kicked out on her first day. Instead she plops onto the floor rubbing her quickly swelling eye and muttering. “Well she called my pop a Muggle Farmer….. and she said I come from nowhere and I can’t read….”

The headmistress’s sudden entrance shocks Briony, but the sobbing girl can do nthing aside from letting go of Felicity’s hair and wrist. She does not endeavor to releas the girl who is still trapped beneath her. “She started it, ma’am,” Briony answers, tears streaming down her face, and a rather red cheek to boot. “Honestly, we didn’t mean–” Hic! “I just wanted–” Hic! “I can’t–” Hic! “My kitty is missing!” The girl wipes her eyes with her sleeve, which doesn’t seem to do much to help, save to smear the tears across her face better.

“She–” Felicity sniffs, choking on a gasp.. Trying to match Briony, not to let her cousin pin the full blame on her shoulders. “My dog died!” She can’t help but feel the impact of the words as she shouts them, though, and all that anger just crumples inside of her as the tears start pouring and gushing. “An.. my gran is–” Choke, hic! “–sick, an’ she said–” Snuffle, wheeze.. “–she was gonna die, too!” Felicity just goes completely limp under Briony, the will to fight gone. Like a pierced balloon.

Melvina Prichard flicks her gaze between Kelly and Rawnie, before rolling her eyes with a great sigh. “Fine, fine, you, dear, sit,” Melvina says, sharply, motioning at Kelly and then pointing at the couch. “And you, dear, over there,” similarly motioning Rawnie to a near, but quite seperate chair. Her gaze shifts them toward the Wexler’s, recognizing thier blood almost immediately, if not thier individual names. “Yes, dear.. We’ll find your kitten, now, please, Miss Wexler, get off of your.. Miss Wexler.” Her eyes soften a bit with Felicity’s story, but not so much that the tightness of her eyes evaporates. Lifting a hand to rub at the bridge of her nose, she moves toward the pair and extends a hand to help Briony up. Not so much offering, but one she expects Briony to take.

Rawnie Weller huffs quite haughtily and moves to sit on the chair like she is told. When the HeadMistress’s attention is on the other girls she sticks her toung out at Kelly and makes a biteing motion to tease her.

Briony Wexler stops short as Felicity says this. Had the girl known that, she might not have said the things she said. Then again, how is Briony to know what she might or might not have done, given the circumstances. “Yes, ma’am,” Briony scrambles up, her head hanging rather low, and her eyes still streaming with tears. The girl does not sit, but she does stand away so that Felicity might stand up. Briony might dislike her cousin very much, but the girl cannot help but feel sorry about the girl’s dog and grandmother.

Melvina Prichard exhales a soft sigh, helping Briony to her feet and giving the girl a rather sad sort of look. That moment was always the hardest when chiding a child; no matter how long her daughter had been grown, she could remember every look of shame as if it happened yesterday. And having toresist the urge to embrace the both of them as Melvina turns to help Felicity up in turn is heartbreaking. “Any injuries, the two of you?”

Rawnie Weller huffs quite haughtily and moves to sit on the chair like she is told. When the HeadMistress’s attention is on the other girls she sticks her toung out at Kelly and makes a biteing motion to tease her.

Felicity Wexler just seems completely limp now that the fight has been drained from her, and it takes her mustering what appears like a considerable amount of energy just to force herself to her feet even with Melvina’s help. But once she’s there, she stands silently, bruised, and scratched, and staring at the ground.

Rawnie Weller looks over at the two bawling girls and remembers that she was trying to stop a fight just before she got pulled into one herself. “Its all Smelly’s fault! If she hadn’t started our fight I coulda helped Briony look for her cat and no one would be fightin.”

Melvina Prichard passes a quizzical look back to Rawnie after giving both Briony and Felicity a good once over; noting that they both seemed to be physically alright, but for some bruises, scratches, a little drop of blood here or there. Nothing that Madam Wexler couldn’t whip up with a flick of her wand. “There’s that, at least.. Pardon?” The first-year’s choice of words confusing her terribly; here she, the Headmistress, had just broken up a fight and this youngling was calling someone ‘Smelly’? “Who on earth is Smelly–No, no, it doesn’t matter,” Melvina decides, before waiting for an answer. “This sort of behavior is absolutely abhorant. We’ve not even turned in for the night and you’ve all four made a shambles of each other. Absolutely unexceptable behavior. Twenty five points from Gryffindor house,” the Headmaster declares, her voice curiously powerful even when her tone was both softer and gentler than it had been only a moment ago. A curious air of no-nonsense, blended with a maternal tenderness. “Each.” The last work spoken with unarguable finality. “Now, come on, we five are going to take a trip to the hospital wing.”

“I’m fine,” Briony claims, rubbing her cheek gently and then snatching her hand away. The girl can’t make herself look at her cousin, nor at the headmistress. Her gaze is focused squarely on the floor. “I’m sorry, headmistress.” Briony‘s apology comes out as little more than a whisper as she stands there, trying to calm herself down, to slow the swelling of tears.

Rawnie Weller seems a bit unphased by the point loss and most likley because she has no idea about the point system at Hogwarts. “Twenty Five what?” A frown comes over her brused little face guessing from Melvina’s tone that it would not be the best time to press her. Instead the little girl becomes quiet.

Felicity Wexler inhales a small gasp at the severity of the punishment, turning her ocean blue eyes up to Melvina with a small whimper. Her sobs have abated some, coming now in small, gurgling hiccups that seem to preclude her from finding an better words than a small squeak to beg her appology. Finally, her head falls again, and she whimpers another small cry.

At the mention of point loss, Briony gasps and finally looks up at Melvina, the horror on her face very apparent. “Oh no, really?” Yes, Briony will definitely be crying herself to sleep tonight. The girl wipes her face with her other arm, though it doesn’t help much, and her tears continue to flow, even more heavily.

“House points, dear,” Melvina replies, glancing back to Rawnie a firm, but not unkind expression. “I’m sure your housemates, and Professor Calwern will be sure to tell you all about them over the next couple days. Now come on, better have you looked at, too.” And with that, Melvina starts ushering the four girls toward the portrait hole.

Rawnie Weller follows after the Headmistress with her little hand still clenched over her black eye. It had been an eventfull first day at school to say the least.

Felicity was fairly certain that Briony wouldn’t be the only one crying herself to sleep; this was shaping up to be her worst first week of term, ever.

Briony Wexler follows the headmistress obediently to the nurse’s office, knowing that she’s about to get into even more time, as it is her mother who is the nurse. The girl says nothing, though, knowing that the damage done is quite enough. A healthy bruise is already beginning to form on her cheek, and the girl has a rather sore rear end from her fall. This certainly is not a good start of the year for Gryffindor.

Other Interesting Logs:

• End-of-Year Feast: Briony’s Perspective
• An Evening at the Shore
• Sweets and Sour Moods
• Sorting Day: Olivia’s Perspective
• Sorting Day: Briony’s Perspective