On the first day of Hogwarts’ term, Platform 9 3/4 is teeming with black-robed students and their fussing parents. Here a pair of wizard parents bends dotingly over their tiny first-year son, anxiously straightening his robes and checking to make sure his owl is fed. There, a confused-looking Muggle family stands slightly apart from the rest, watching the spectacle with bewildered eyes while their daughter rushes around in excitement to meet her new classmates. Beyond that, a group of older students, tall and assured after years of school, chat eagerly as they catch up on their summer holidays.
Among the odd groupings of adults and children, one is a trio: an old wizard departing from a pair of young girls, both wearing the shiny badges of new Hogwarts Prefects. The taller of the two girls bears a striking resemblance to him; the other, Dara Quincy, looks nothing like either of the others, but seems remarkably at home with both. Dara‘s expression is serious and intent, her vague, shadowed eyes narrowed in resolute focus as she glances around the platform, surveying the younger students with the determined authority of her new position.
Mariska Moore steps onto the platform and promptly dusts herself off, not yet wearing her Hogwarts robes, having deemed that it would look quite hilarious to be doing so when in the midst of the muggles. Following her onto the platform is an annoyingly perfect little blond haired girl, who quickly states how she absoloutly can not wait until she gets to go to Hogwarts. Finally, entering the platform behind the younger girl enter, presumably, the parents, who promptly start to fuss over the second year girl. “Mum, Da’, I’ll be fine, I promise, nothing happened to me last year, after all,” she states with a roll of her eyes before she quickly makes to depart from the precense of her somewhat overbearing parents.
Seraphina Pryor is a year older now, but she doesn’t look much more sure as she steps onto the platform with her obviously-doting father and younger sister, just a year too young to go to Hogwarts as yet. “Dad, why couldn’t you have waited out on the muggle platform?” she asks her father in a slightly testy fashion. “There are too many parents here already.” Despite her protests, Sera allows her father to press a bag of money into her palm and kiss her on the cheek. “I’m going to go get on the train now,” she announces to him with an unexpressive face. “Bye, Ona,” she tells her sister quickly before stepping closer to the train, glancing around only momentarily before she ducks onto the train with a very unsure face.
Chester Blake strolls onto the platform, studiously ignoring his brother – not his twin, if you please – as well as his younger sister, who is peppering the two of them with rapid fire questions about the sorting that she is still too young to attend. “Oh, shut up, Siscily,” he replies testily and turns to his parents. “No, mum, I’m fine… please don’t, oh – ugh, mum!” Chester seems appalled by the primping that his mother has just done to his disheveled hair as well as the wet kiss planted on his cheek. Such displays are unusual for Chester to experience, and he doesn’t seem to appreciate them when they do happen. “Rowan, you sit in a different car. Find your friends or something.” Whatever’s gotten into usually docile Chester this year? “I’m getting onto the train.” He drags his trunk behind him and stalks down the platform toward the door into one of the cars, ignoring his family as much as he did when they all came on to the platform.
Looking a bit flustered but no worse for the wear, Tobias Garner stumbles through the barrier, his owl, luggage, and (predictably) family in tow. Despite having gone through this painful farewell process seven times prior to today – though in those years his brother stood in his place — Tobias‘s mother and father are as tearful as ever. Jerry, on the other hand, seems unaffected by the flood of emotion, and simply tousles his brother’s hair and wishes him good luck. Promising that he will return for Christmas, Tobias edges closer to a group of older students, hoping to be noticed but at the same time remain inconspicuous. Heather hoots her displeasure and shifts uneasily in her cage at all the noise, but her protests are drowned out by the numerous conversations around her.
Even for a Prefect who seems to have to work as hard as Dara does to stay focused on her job, there is plenty to do. “Over here! This way! No, it’s all right, you can let your luggage go – it will arrive at school the same time that you do. Goodness, is that your owl flying off there? Yes, the train will wait until you’ve caught it…” Dara sorts through the disorderly crowd of first-years, directing them towards the various train compartments and giving what reassurance she can, all with the same air of steady resolve. “I’ll see you on the train, Evey!” she calls, smile brightening through her serious determination for a moment as she waves to a girl her own age across the crowd. And then she is back to work, ushering the other students onto the train. “Oh, hullo, Tobias,” Dara says, offering a smile to one of the few new students familiar to her. “Good to see you again.”
Walking up closer to the train and just narrowly avoiding a girl who is strangely walking backwards down the platform, Chester inclines his head briefly toward Dara. He doesn’t know her well, but he’s smart enough to see that the girl is wearing a Prefect badge and to act accordingly. “Congratulations,” he basically mutters before slipping through the door to the train, trunk hauled behind him. Chester spends little time glancing at those around him and manages to duck into the first empty compartment that he spots, quickly settling in next to the window – his favorite spot.
Mariska Moore takes her barn owls cage from atop her luggage, leaving the rest so that it can be loaded onto the train. “G’bye Mum, Da, I’ll see for break and of course I’ll be on my best behavior,” the girl notes, before her parents tell her to make sure she studies and to keep practicing the dance lessons she learned. “Of course, now will you let me go? I don’t want to miss the train,” she notes before kneeling down to give her younger sister a hug. That done she rights herself, dusts her clothes off and heads away from the familial unit and towards the train, though she moves at no sort of a rush.
“Thanks,” Dara replies, offering Chester a friendly, if slightly vague smile – she hasn’t had much of a chance to interact with the younger Hufflepuff boy, but from the quick brightening of her expression on his compliment, any friendly interaction is very welcome.
Following the barrage of students onto the train, Seraphina barely has enough room to move about, let alone choose her compartment for herself. She essentially ends up getting shoved into compartment One, in which there are already people. Seeing that there is room for her, though, she decides to stay rather than fight the crowd in the corridor. “Hi.” she greets those in the compartment before stowing her trunk and sitting in the opposite corner from Chester, sitting as close to the wall as possible.
Partly carried along by the momentum of the waves of students, partly concentrating on her duties, Dara bypasses the prefects’ compartment entirely. She only seems to realize that she has come to rest in another train car a few moments after she arrives, wide gray eyes blinking in brief confusion as she refocuses. Dara glances behind her – no, the tall Hufflepuff prefect with whom she had arrived seems to be gone, to her further confusion. Dara turns back to the compartment, offering another vague, friendly smile to the others as she moves to take a seat. She casts a slightly wistful glance towards the window, but there are too many people between her and it, and Dara settles for a seat near the middle of the car.
Chester Blake glances up as people begin to – seemingly haphazardly – enter the compartment. “Oh, hi, um…” He waves his hand absently in Seraphina’s direction. “Is the Prefects’ compartment full, Dara?” he asks the older girl curiously. “I thought that was where all of the Prefects sat.” Chester seems to have relaxed now that he is out of eye and earshot of his family, particularly his older brother.
Mariska Moore enters the train and squeaks, slightly, as the crowds gets the better of her slight form. In an attempt to get away from the onslaught of students she enters the first doorway she can, which leads to compartment one. “Oh… Hi,” the second year states, glancing quickly about. “Mind if I join?” she enquires in all politeness to the gathered crowd.
Relieved to see a familiar face, Tobias‘s fear dissipates temporarily as he scurries along behind his future classmates. Unsure at first of which compartment to enter, he decides it would be best to follow the older students – they, he assumes, unlike the first years, seem to know what they are doing. At the very least, he had an acquaintance among them. He meekly enters Compartment One and chooses a seat close to the door, so as to have an easy escape route (if necessary) and a clearer view of the corridor. Shooting a wary glance around the cabin, Tobias mutters a quiet and cautious “Hello.”
“Sera,” Seraphina answers without much inflection in her voice. Clutching a squirmy kitten to her chest, she glances around the quickly filling compartment without expression on her face. “Who are you?” she asks to nobody in particular, though she happens to be looking at Tobias as she says this. “Hello, Mariska,” she greets her housemate. At least she knows the girl’s name.
“Oh!” Dara‘s eyes flutter, shifting their vague gaze towards Chester in faint surprise as he calls attention to her mistake. “Er. Yes, usually they do,” she stammers, glancing backwards towards the door. “I – I just thought it would be better to keep an eye on things from here.” Dara offers another smile, slightly weaker this time, but it strengthens as she turns to greet the younger students, back on more secure ground now. “Hello. Yes, do have a seat. There’s…actually still a bit of room.”
“Oh, okay,” is all that Chester says in response to Dara’s reasoning. He seems nonplussed by the addition of a prefect to the compartment. “Hello then, Sera.” He leans back comfortably and glances at the other newcomers. “Hi,” he directs to Tobias – the first boy to actually enter the compartment so far aside from himself. “You look kinda young. Are you a firstie?”
Mariska Moore looks up from wherein she’s found herself a seat as she hears her name. “Oh, hello Seraphina,” the girl gives with a bit of a smile. “I didn’t see you through the crowd,” she notes before turning that same smile to the rest of the Compartment One Crowd.
Tobias opens his mouth to speak, but his words seem to be glued to his tongue for a moment before he blurts out, “I’m Tobias Garner. And yes, I am a-a firstie,” he finishes, wincing a bit at the title for his class. Firstie? How adorable — and slightly humiliating. Under the impression that Chester’s tone did not imply that he was teasing, however, Tobias manages to smile. “What about you all? What years are you in?”
“I am a second year,” Seraphina answers as if this is highly respectable and something to be envied. After all, it was preferable to being a firstie, wasn’t it? “It is a bit of a crowd, but of course, I was here before most of the people ducked in.” She pauses. “Though I would have preferred to secure a compartment farther back on the train, but I was obliged by some of the older students to come into this one.” Well, she was pushed in, but who was she to split hairs?
“Fifth, now,” Dara replies, offering another encouraging smile to nervous little Tobias. Seraphina’s superior tone draws a quick, sidelong glance from Dara, and she clears her throat faintly, but doesn’t otherwise interject. “It’s all right – things can be rather confusing at first,” she continues to Tobias, “but it all gets straightened out soon enough. You’ll see.”
Chester says, “Hi, Tobias, then,” Chester tells him with the first congenial smile of the day. He, too, is a bit taken aback by Seraphina’s tone, but doesn’t even spare her a glance. “I’m a fourth year,” he responds casually. “It gets better after the first year. Don’t worry about that.” A pause. “Just make sure you look out for the squid when you’re crossing the lake.” He manages to say this with a deadly serious face, much in the way it was told to him on his first trip to Hogwarts. It’s fair, right?”
Mariska Moore offers a smile towards Tobias. “Mariska Moore, second year,” she offers to the cute ickle firstie. Her statement is offered with a certain sense of pride offered, as she just barely passed all her first year classes. “I’m sure that you’ll figure everything out in no time,” Mariska gives, with a gap-toothed grin and a firm nod of her head. As for Seraphina’s tone, Mariska makes no big deal out of it, at all. “Oh, yes, the Giant Squid… it’ll eat you if yer not careful…”
It certainly is, Tobias agrees, absent-mindedly wondering why his brother was not kind enough to explain the outline of his first journey to Hogwarts. At the mentioning of the squid, he gives an expected shudder, recalling an incident where Jerry “accidentally” shoved him into a pond several summers ago and he was “attacked” by tangled weeds and irritable ducks. “Are there any accounts of firsties say, drowning, in the er-lake? Or being – well, eaten?” He straightens up and tries to appear unafraid as he says this, but terror is obviously present in his wide hazel eyes.
Sliding the door of the compartment open, the newcomer doesn’t step all the way inside. Seeing the number of students Ali blinks widely and then smiles nervously. “Sorry about that just looking for,” the dusky voice trails off as the fifth year grins in Dara’s direction. “Dara! There you are! Just the person I was looking for.” “You won’t believe what happened! I wanted to tell you but there just wasn’t time and besides, I wanted it to be a surprise.” Apparently for this youth gossip comes before introductions.
Not speaking at the mention of the squid, Seraphina merely looks on at the first year’s reaction. Of course she had not been afraid. “So, Mariska, are you planning to go out for Quidditch this year?” she asks her comrade calmly, only glancing up briefly as a very tall boy – wait, was that actually a girl? – entered the compartment.
“No, nothing like that,” Dara begins, aiming another reassuring smile towards Tobias, and a slightly reproachful look towards the others. But then Ali bursts in, and Dara‘s eyes flutter as her attention, so carefully fixed on the younger students, is disrupted once more. “What?” She turns swiftly towards the door, her gaze wide and vague for a moment, and then slipping back into focus as a brighter smile comes to her face. “Ali! Yes – what is it? Is everything all right? Er – you’re welcome to find a seat if you can, but it’s gotten a bit crowded…”
Ignoring Dara’s disclaiming about the squid, Chester leans forward, grinning a little bit. “Oh, loads of people have… it’s all in the books at Hogwarts. Of course, I shouldn’t tell you this, but just last year, a firstie got careless and the squid ate her. It was a terrible tragedy – the whole school was shocked that she could have been so dumb.” It seems as if he has to stifle a snicker as he tells Tobias the tale. “Of course, if you keep yourself inside the boat and stay away from sitting next to people who don’t like you, you should be alright. The squid doesn’t usually grab people out of the boats. It waits for them to fall in.” Chester leans back, glancing around the now quite crowded compartment. “Oh, hi, Ali,” he greets the girl.
Mariska Moore snickers slightly. “Well, I heard of one when my parents where here. A first year lost his footing, fell into the lake… nobody’s seen him since, my parents say the squid got ‘im,” she notes with a completly serious look on her face before turning her attention to Seraphina. “We were in the same flying class, right?” she questions with a quirked brow. “If so, you’ve seen me try to fly, and fail miserably, I only barely passed that class…” Upon hearing Chester’s comment Mariska blinks. “Right, I remember that, it was terrible, she was on the boat behind me,” the second year shrugs at this.
Watching as students step off the train Phoebe Helit stands ready out on the platform dressed in a warm black fur coat over a navy blue formal dress. Beside her at her feet staring with great yellow eyes is her ever faithful cat with fur matching it’s human’s dress. After all the students are off the train Phoebe takes another quick check over the crowd and places her hands together in front of her, she calls out to address the students. “Hello everyone! Welcome to Hogwarts! First years please stay together and come with me, returning students are to board the carriages,” “Your luggage and pets will be taken to your dormitorys to wait for you.” With that Phoebe takes another quick look over the students as the crowd begins separating. She gives a glance to the blue cat beside her who mews once as if understanding and immediatly sets off into one of the carriages with a couple of seventh years. A smile stretches over her face and she calls again “Right this way first years!” With that the Professor begins leading the way.
Heading off of the train quickly, Seraphina glances around the crowd, trying to latch onto someone familiar with whom to ride in the carriages. Finding nobody close enough to go with her, she instead steps into the closest one that she can find, ending up with three seventh years, all of whom seem quite familiar and friendly with one another.
(Slytherin) Seraphina Pryor walks quickly into the Great Hall with a clump of other students. She spots Mariska, with whom she had shared a compartment on the trip to Hogsmeade, and rather than securing an ideal spot, she instead secures a spot next to somebody she knows. Perhaps this feast will be more than just eating. The girl can hope, after all. She plops down at the table quickly.
(Slytherin) Mariska Moore enters the great hall from the opposite point of view as the last sorting, and promptly settles herself at the Slytherin table. Once Seraphina’s seated herself Mariska turns to her fellow second year and offers a smile. “I wonder who we’ll be Sorted into Slytherin this year,” is noted quietly, though not so quiet as to not be heard.
(Slytherin) “I don’t know,” Seraphina admits readily. “Hopefully some good people. The not as good people can be sorted into Gryffindor or something. We don’t need them here.” A flip of her light auburn hair punctuates this as she shrugs lightly. “Maybe we’ll take the house cup this year. Stupid Ravenclaw got it last time.” She seems oblivious to the irony of her statement.
(Slytherin) Mariska Moore nods. “I sure hope that we get some of the good students this year, though, obviously, we got some of the good ones last year, too,” is noted with a bit of a chuckle. “And hopefully some who can get us some points and play quidditch, because I know I can’t play.”
(Slytherin) “Slytherin only ever gets the best, of course,” Satinka replies to the two younger girls, butting quite suddenly into their conversation. “We would win the cups every year, only want the other houses to think that they have a chance now and then. Otherwise, where would the fun be in winning?” Satinka pushes her blonde curls over her shoulder and sits up neatly, grinning down at the young girls. “They only win because we let them.”
(Slytherin) “They do?” Seraphina replies with shock. “But I thought we did try last year…” Sera looks quite perplexed for a moment as she considers this. Her face then goes blank – after all, she mustn’t show any weaknesses like that to her peers. “I’m not going to play Quidditch. It simply doesn’t interest me,” the girl states plainly. She neglects to remember, apparently, her dismal showing during the flying classes in the previous year. “I plan to be a famous stage actress, after all, and sports would not help me with that.”
(Slytherin) Mariska Moore chuckles slightly. “Well, we have to make it at least look like we’re trying to win, even if we are letting the other houses win, don’t we?” she questions, grinning a little. “So how was everyone’s summer? Good, I hope.”
(Slytherin) “Mine was fine,” Seraphina answers mildly, without much conviction. “We went to the shore for a week. Did you do anything interesting like that, Mariska?” Sera does not address the older girl, though, as she is unsure of how to approach the daughter of the house head. “Daddy promised we’d go again at Easter holiday, too.”
(Slytherin) Mariska Moore shakes her head slightly in response to Seraphina. “My parents got me a tutor, they weren’t pleased with my marks through the year,” she notes, frowning. “And enrolled me in a dance class, apparently they also weren’t happy that I wouldn’t be trying out for the quidditch team this year.”
(Slytherin) “Oh, you had to study all summer? How rotten of them! Dancing is interesting, though. I’ve been asking my daddy to enroll me in some of the dance classes so that I could make a bigger splash onstage. I’m going to take Wizo-Music, too. Professor Dwight has to teach me to sing if that’s what I want, right?” She pauses and yawns a bit. “I’m hungry. When is this supposed to start? Did they lose the firsties for real or something?” Seraphina looks a bit annoyed at the long wait and she leans her elbows on the table, cradling her cheeks in her hands.
(Slytherin) Mariska Moore nods in a slightly sullen fashion. “Mmhmm, all summer, the only break I got was for dance class, but I like my dance classes, they enrolled me in Irish step dance it’s very interesting, I’m supposed to work on that when I get free time, cause I’ll be back in class next summer,” she notes, grinning with this. At Seraphina’s comment about the firsties, Mariska snickers. “I wonder if the squid got them this year… got tired of us goin’ around in it’s lake so much…”
(Slytherin) “Irish step?” Satinka butts in with a sneer on her pretty face. “They might have enrolled you in a more beautiful dance course. Ballet, now, that’s a worthwhile course. I’ve had my own private teacher since I was five years old and living in France. Thankfully, my mother understands the importance of grace and polish, and understood my arguments for having her here. It’s a real shame that your parents haven’t the same considerations for you.
(Slytherin) Mariska Moore shrugs slightly at Satinka slightly. “I like Irish step, it’s beautiful and has some similarities to ballet, and it’s incredibly graceful, especially the soft shoe dances, though I love the hard shoe dances. I’m not very good right now, but I’ve gotten to watch some of the better students, and it’s all in the footwork and the combination of the hard shoe with the music,” she shrugs and stops going on about how much she loves this particular art. “I suppose if my parents really get irritated with me they’ll put me into ballet, or another form of dance.”
(Slytherin) “Well, I’d much rather take tap and ballet – it is so much more useful for the stage, after all. Tap is in such high demand now, after all. Irish step could be very appropriate in certain venues, I’m sure,” Seraphina replies, unsure of what to make of Satinka’s interference in the converstaion. “Maybe the squid just got hungry. After all, it didn’t get anyone last year…” Sera says this perhaps a bit less sarcastically than she ought – she sounds dead serious at the suggestion, in fact.
(Slytherin) Satinka gives a rather haughty shrug. “Suit yourself, of course, but it will never breed in you the grace and poise that a well-to-do representative of Slytherin house is expected to have upon graduation.” Satinka sits up just a bit straighter and slowly crosses her legs under the table in an effort to look glamorous. “I’ve been brought up for it since birth. After all, my family is famous for being respected and showered with accolades.” Perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but Satinka is figuring on the two girls not knowing any better.
(Slytherin) Mariska Moore shrugs slightly. “Well, it’s something I enjoy,” she offers with a smile before tilting her head slightly in the direction from which the firsties ought be coming. “Perhaps. I mean, I don’t recall it taking anyone last year, though it may only take students every few years,” Mariska gives, sound completley serious as she speaks, as though she actually believes the squid will eat the students. “Yes, Satinka, I’ve heard of your family, specifically the Professor, of course… and I’m sure you’ll do Slytherin proud when you graduate from Hogwarts.”
(Slytherin) “That’s what matters, right? That you enjoy it?” Seraphina is starting, for the first time since she came to Hogwarts, to let down her guard a little. After all, she said so very little to the others in her house over the course of her first year, it’s amazing that any of them even know her name. She leans forward close to Mariska, looking carefully out of the corner of her eye to see that Satinka is distracted. “Are they really so prestigious as all that? My daddy’s never spoken of them to me… indeed, I didn’t hear of them until I came to the school.” She pauses. “She isn’t very nice anyhow. So superior…”
Gerald Rathe stalks into the room, his great fae-silk cloak billowing behind him and almost into the faces of the nearest students. He does not shorten his pace for the shorter-legged children, but keeps his eyes focused on the faculty table ahead, until he reaches it, only then spinning about and clasping his hands behind his back to wait for the students to catch up, watching carefully to prod them into order in front of the Hall.
(Slytherin) Mariska Moore nods. “Oh yes, I think it’s entirely a case of enjoying something, and, as I spent the rest of the summer studying, it was a nice reprieve from the books,” she notes before offering a shrug in Seraphina’s direction before lowering her voice to speak to her fellow second year. “I only know the professor, my parents haven’t told me much of anything about them… but that’s not saying much,” she offers with her gap-toothed grin. “Oh! Look, there’s one of the Professor Rathe’s. Good, I’ve been getting quite anxious to get on with the Sorting.”
Once the students are lined up in front of the Hall in some semblance of order, Professor Gerald Rathe ducks out the back door by the faculty table, returning moments later with a stool in one hand, and an old tattered, wide-brimmed hat in the other. The stool he places in front of the gathered students, and the hat is set deftly on top of the stool. Turning to face the first years, he pulls a scroll from his cloak, and addresses them: “First year students, when I call your name, you will step up to the stool, take the Hat, sit on the stool and place the Hat on your head to be sorted.”
At the Professor’s voice, the Hat shivers, splits at the seam, and a mouth forms and begins to sing!
Unfurling his scroll, Gerald reveals that his right hand is swathed in a thick bandage. He glances at the students, and then to scroll, calling out the first name, “Adenlthwaite, Cloisonne!” The girl mentioned moves carefully up to the stool, taking the hat as told and sitting. There is a moment’s silence, and then the Hat calls out, “Gryffindor!” The girl jumps up from the stool, moving quickly to the mentioned table.
Several more names are called in turn, and soon Gerald calls one out, “Garner, Tobias!”
moves on through the list, calling out names in turn, as the students are sorted into their various Houses. Among them, Luella Grey is sorted into Ravenclaw, and Rory Tam is sorted into Gryffindor. When the last student has been sorted, Gerald quickly and neatly packs up the Hat and stool, carring them out from the room without a backward glance. A moment later, he has returned to the Great Hall, and without fanfare takes his place at the faculty table.
Melvina Prichard rises from the faculty table purposefully, lifting her nimble, long-fingered hands in a suggestive way as she beckons the student audience for silence. “Thank you, Gerald. Excuse me, quiet please — yes, that includes you, Miss Smythe.” Her voice is thick and strong but laced with a hint of amusement. A half-grin touches her lips as Melvina looks over her school.
“Greetings, everyone,” Melvina calls, her voice effortlessly stretching across the Great Hall at a comfortable volume. “Welcome to your term nineteen hundred and thirty two! As I’m sure most you of you are now aware, my name is Melvina Prichard and I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though I hope each of you had a wonderful summer, I equally hope you’re prepared to clear away whatever fluff might have grown between your ears and properly further your magical education. That in mind, I’ll press on so we may all fill our bellies and get to a good nights rest. I’ve some beginning of term announcements to make.” Clearing her throat, the Headmistress pulls a pair of spectacles from the breast pocket of her emerald robe and places them neatly on the brige of her nose. With a cassual motion, the Headmistress draws a long, thin wand from her sleeve and gives it a vague flick, conjuring a tightly-bound scroll in to the air in front of her with a small violet flash.
“All the usual suspects, of course. Our caretaker has asked me to remind you check the updated list of prohibited items and punishable offenses that have been thoughtfully posted in each of your common rooms–” Drawing in a deep breath, the Headmistress takes the floating parchment from the air and begins to unroll it. “Spellwork outside of the classroom, rough play, pranks, hijinxs, dungbombs, Whipple’s Pimple Powder..” Demonstratively, she allows one end of the scroll to slip from her fingers; it clatters to the table, spills over the edge, and rolls across the floor Great Hall between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables until it exhausts itself somewhere near the door of the waiting room across the entrance foyer. Wearing an expression of mock seriousness, Melvina sets her end of the very long list down and vanishes it with a flick of her wand. “As you can see, the list goes on. Be sure to check it.”
After a moment Melvina conjures a smaller sheet of parchment. “Hogwarts tradition demands that I remind each that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds for all students. As seems to happen every year since antiquity, some of you will most certainly forget that pesky little rule. It just slips out, squeezed away most certainly by the building pressure of knowledge our fine professors work so hard to fill your heads with over the term.” The elderly woman chuckles as she shares a knowing look with a few select members of the student body. “Know then that detention is the minimum punishment for entering the Forbidden Forest without a member of staff or faculty to escort you, and that such acts will usually will result in a substantial loss of house points as well.”
With a small, meaningful glance around and a pause to clear her throat and savor a sip of pumpkin juice, Melvina continues. “Naturally, we ask that you respect and defer to your Prefects. At this time, I’d like to congratulate our new prefects; for Ravenclaw house, Miss Dara Quincy and Mister Edward Innarsal, for Slytherin house, Miss Odaira Wallace and Mister Augustine Malloy, for Gryffindor house Miss Allison Ardua and Mister Luke Marcus, and for Hufflepuff house, Miss Constance Geroff and Mist… Miss Ali Chamberlain. Remember, prefects are selected by their respective Heads of House,” Melvina places a curiously strong emphisis on those last three words. “For exceptional dedication, scholastic merit, and integrity, as well as exemplifying the values their respective houses treasure. Respect and defer to them, as they chose not to bear the weight of responsibility handed to them, but will most assuredly carry out their new-found duties with aplomb.” The Headmistress pauses, looking over the hall for a moment as if to convey a silent message to the crowd before continuing on. “Leading our prefects will be our new Head Boy and Head Girl, Marten Augustine and Helen McPhereson. Mister Augustine and Miss McPhereson, please stand.” She applauds once the two have risen, leading those who care to join her in a round of congratulations.
“Well done, Head Boy, Head Girl,” the Headmistress says, sincerly. “On to faculty. Sadly, I must inform you that Professor Hathaway of our Transfiguration department has choosen to resign, and will be replaced this term by Professor Edward Marconia. I hope you will all join me in welcoming Professor Marconia in to the Hogwarts family.” Again, Melvina applauds, turning toward the new instructor and inclining her head toward him in a respectful manner.
Following a relieved sigh and Melvina finally sets down the parchment and removes her glasses, tucking them back in to her breast pocket. “That said, I have only one more announcement to mention before we start in on the delicious feast I know you’re all patiently waiting to savor. To those of you returning, my love of tradition should be no surprise; thus, I announce once again to you my personal favorite of our many Hogwarts traditions, the annual Barefoot Social. A celebration of the new term, greeting those whom are just joining us, and welcoming home the rest. This dance will semi-formal, open to all years, and include an… outdoor feast.” The too-clever look on her face almost seems to gloat, briefly, as she looks out at her young crowd. Following the precident set by events of year’s past — the ladies will need ask the gentlemen for the honor of an afternoon’s courtship. Naturally, I will be resuming the Student Events Committee, made up of students from all years to help me prepare for the Barefoot Social, Governor’s Ball, and a handful of other special events the faculty has planned for the school year; if you’d like to be on said committee, you may contact me through any of the usual means. Exact details regarding date and time of the Barefoot Social shall follow shortly. Tuck in.” And with small nod and a sly, lingering grin, she slips casually back in to her seat.
