Walking in from the cool London air and onto the train, Saphia waves to Olivia as she finds a carriage. “Good morning, Ms. Baxtor,” she whispers happily as she finds her seat, setting down Mina’s cage on the floor next to her and heaving her many bags (no doubt full of books) onto the roof racks above.

Getting herself settled into her seat, Olivia glances at Saphia with a faint smile. “How was your summer?” she asks the girl with whom she has spent all summer corresponding and trading books. As redundant as this question may be, it seems the most relevant to the Hufflepuff while she gets her own owl situated on the seat next to her, keeping her a small distance from the window, though it is clear that she has claimed this seat. “This is Gaia,” she tells Saphia. “I got her for my birthday. I couldn’t send her because she’s not big enough to carry the books, though.”

Looking inside, a woman far too old to be a student at Hogwarts is joined by a boy far too young to be a student. The two look to be a mother and son. Phoebe smiles looking around in the compartment. “Do you dears mind if Edward and I have a seat in here with you?” She asks with a friendly smile. Behind her on the floor sits several trunks presumably filled with there possessions.

Fern Featherstone steps inside the compartment and looks over the area from beneath the curtain of her dark lashes. She seems rather shy and her cheeks flush with a pinkish hue.

Riley Markham throws open the hatch to the cabin with a dark sounding of hiss — finding, to his great discomfort, that he actually has to duck somewhat under the edge upper lip of the door in order to step inside. Already donned in his wrinkled, half-open Hogwarts robes, as tossed and uncared for as they often seem to be, Riley uncerimoniously steps beside Phoebe Helit almost as if he’d not seen her, tosses his case up in to the racks carelessly, and flops down beside Saphia with his arms crossed over his now surprisingly broad chest. Almost as if in after thought to his momentary anger (which seems to flare as he looks out the window and sees his Gran waving at him from the platform), he looks to Saphia, nods in greeting, then looks to the woman — presumably a professor, since he would guess her to old to be a studen — and mutters a meager, “‘cuse me, eh?”

Saphia Bona smiles as Riley sits down next to her, running her hand over his (good) shoulder and arm as he does so, smiling and replying to Olivia, “Oh, my summer was alright, I suppose. My mother forced me out into the sun now and then, which I suppose was proper, but there was ever so much reading to do!” She remarks, looking distinctly crestfallen about such things. As the professor enters, Saphia smiles shyly and whispers, “We’d be honored to have you, Professor.”

Dolly Faeden is a nice shade of brown that clashes horribly with her red hair and tells of a lot of outdoors time in the summer. Nevermind that she lives in a forest. With her accent thicker than ever from being around similarly-worded people for three months, Dee asks, “Is it alrigh’ if I sit here?” No, really, it’s thick like mollasses. With a twisty smile, she sort of stumps in no matter the answer and gives her trunk a push toward one of the chairs. It’s heavy! Or, as she sits in front of it, opens it, and starts to dig something out, she’s just in need of something. She looks up at some noise, still digging through her trunk, and realizes there are people she knows in the compartment after all. “Riley-sir! Saphia!” Her habit of calling the Ravenclaw Quidditchers ‘sir’ seems not to have died, though at least in Riley’s case it’s vaguely appropriate. “Have a good summer, then? Did ye get bigger some how? Not that I didn’t get a little taller myself but aren’t boys supposed to grow more when they’re–oh but you are thirteen, aren’t you? I noticed with some of the muggle boys in the village where me mum’s parents live, that’s really when they start to get taller although nobody’ll explain why except that they do and really it’s the girls who start to grow a lot first but I’m only a year from that so I’ve been researching charms to make robes a bit longer ’cause Da’ won’t be able to pay for new ones in the middle of the year just because I’ve taken to getting taller too fast, you know?” She doesn’t say any of this particularly fast, although her rural Scottish accent muddles it up rather nicely.

Staring a bit mutely at the littler girl blathers on in an accent that Olivia can only partially understand, the Hufflepuff scoots her owl’s cage over a bit farther and makes plenty of room on the bench next to her. After all, she wouldn’t want to take up too much room and keep others out. “I’ve enjoyed most of the books so far. Some of the muggle history books were a little odd, but I liked reading them anyway.” She smiles a bit and looks down at her lap, seeming ponderous. It is but a moment before she reaches down into her bag and pulls out a book. “Here, this is the last one you sent. I got some new books this year to read. Dad agreed to buy me a couple while we were out shopping.” Olivia seems oddly comfortable for one who prefers solitude to strangers.

Fern Featherstone takes a few more tentative steps into the compartment and she carefully sits down upon a leather seat, perching upon its edge and pressing her small feet against the ground. She rests her slender hands against the soft fabric of her wool skirt, even as she lifts the curtain of her wispy dark lashes and looks upon those gathered her with a pensive and sheepish kind of interest.

Smiling down upon Saphia, Phoebe pats her son upon the shoulder “Go take a seat dear,” She instructs him kindly as she takes her luggage and begins stowing it in the overhead. She turns again before taking a seat by her son. “Oh! Im sorry.” She says suddenly remembering. “I’ve forgotten to introduce us, I am Professor Helit and this is my son Edward.” She looks down at the boy who is trying to hid behind her arm. “Say Hi Eddy.” she tells him gently and the boy waves silently. “He’s just a little shy.” Phoebe pats her boy on the head and gets comfterble.

“Oh, thank you, Olivia. I’ve been reading as much as I can, but wi– Wait,” Saphia double-takes, “Professor, I know Professor Helit. I’ve… well, I’ve not had class with him, but I’ve conversed. And I always thought he was distinctly more tall, male, and green booted then you were.”

Riley Markham glances briefly to the hand that Saphia places on his (good) shoulder, before looking toward the door with a hint of mild embaressment. Ultimately, his gaze falls on the young boy with the new Professor — whom he had rather curtly stepped around before. And quite despite his annoyance with the whole thing, he can’t help but offer the little lad a smile. “Makin’ ‘em smaller and smaller all the time, aren’t they?” He mutters, to no one other than himself, before being somewhat distracted by Dolly. A faintly rueful expression touching his lips. “Hey,” he mutters. Being called ‘sir’ made his teeth ache. “God, I wish this bucket of junk would get us there already.”

Dolly Faeden looks sideways at the professor. “But Professor Helit, weren’t you a man last term?” Her eyes are wide, standing up and rather rudely tilting her head and squinching her eyes and finally shaking her head, “No, you were certainly a man. I know, people said Professor Rathe caught you aflame!” She looks at Edward, and says, “Your mother used to a man.” as if this were a fact and not hideously rude of her. At least her accent might obscure some of the nonsese. She flumps back into her seat, now, and sort of peers at Fern, her shoes, and her open trunk. “Oh!” She resumes digging.

“Oh yes.” Phoebe grins and chuckles just a bit before jokingly saying to Saphia “Well Im afraid I’ve been through a lot of changes over the summer you know.” She chuckles softly and doesn’t bother yet to give them a correct statement instead she turns her attention on Riley “Oh, Eddy will not be attending the sorting, He’s my personal assistant.” She says with a smile to her son who smiles back proudly at the title. Both Phoebe and Edward have a chuckle ad Dolly’s statement but neither move to correct her yet.

Olivia watches as the other students ask the man about possibly being the illustrious Professor Helit about whom she has heard so much. It seems clear, though, that if this is the same person, she is now considerably nicer than the one who was there the year previous. Running her fingers over the cage that her owl is sleeping peacefully in, Olivia only nods briefly at Saphia before the girl’s attention is distracted. Turning her own gaze out the window, it seems her mind is beginning to wander, though the thoughts travelling through her head can’t be too poor, given the half smile on her face.

Fern Featherstone studies Phoebe suspiciously from beneath the curtain of her wispy dark lashes, clearly finding it rather strange that she once was a man. Her naturally pale cheeks are still colored with a faint blush as she continues to sit on the leather seat.

Saphia Bona looks confused, before finally whispering, “Wait, are you ANOTHER Professor Helit?” She grins wide, stunned. “How many of there are you? Oh my. What will you be teaching?” She asks, excited. “Do you use many books?”

It’s hard work being a prefect! So Evan would tell you, anyway, after having spent the first part of the train ride patrolling the corridors instead of relaxing in a compartment with his friends. That part of his duty seems to be over now, though, as he seems in no hurry to move on his way, pausing to glance into each compartment he passes. This one wins a bit more attention, and Evan sticks his head in the door, smiling as he spots Olivia, giving a cheerful nod to the others present.

“Oh yes, I was only joking.” Phoebe chuckles softly at the very idea of being Quintus. “Your other Professor Helit is my Uncle actually.” She says this as if wishing that it weren’t true. “I am your new Muggle Studies Professor, and if you have taken my class you should have already bought the books for your year.” She comments to Saphia. She looks around the compartment and spies Evan peaking in and notices his smile to Olivia. A grin plays on her own face but she says nothing of it.

Dolly Faeden is satisfied that Professor Helit has just undergone some changes over the summer and so momentarily pauses in her (apparently aimless) digging through stuff when Saphia has another conclusion. “What? Y’mean there’s ta be two?” She looks at Phoebe again and murmurs, “Well am I sorry! I thought you’d just gone by way of a bad potion, someone slipping poorly made Polyjuice inta your drink or something.” She gives Edward another glance, her cheeks bright red, and then ducks her head back into her trunk, scattering things like a change of robes and a pair of underpants in her haste to both find whatever it is she wants and not look at the others, given she made a wrong conclusion. Unthinkable. Or at least really embarassing.

Turning her head as the compartment opens yet again, Olivia appears to glance around to see whether there is, indeed any spot for another person in the area. “Oh, Evan!” she greets her friend cheerfully, beaming with pride at the badge on his chest. She doesn’t say anything more, but does smile rather cheerfully at him. Could Olivia‘s demeanor be perhaps a little brighter, and even prouder, or is it just the fact that she hasn’t said or done much of anything as yet?

Fern Featherstone continues to sit silently upon the leather seat. She glances toward Evan as he arrive and smiles faintly in his direction. She then looks toward Phoebe, seemingly relieved by something she says. She then smiles shyly, while starting to restlessly toy with the wool of her pleated gray skirt.

Looking to Fern Phoebe smiles and gently asks “Is this your first year dear?” In a kind voice of understanding. Her son leans over as well to smile at Fern and offers her a quiet wave. “It’s a little exciting isn’t it? Not to worry, it’s Eddy’s and my first year at Hogwarts too.” A Professor that never attended Hogwarts? What’s going on?

“Hello, Olivia,” Evan replies warmly. Pulling the door farther, he offers a shallow bow to the.. adult and giving a curious yet friendly look to the child with her, pausing to speak again in an effort not to interrupt conversation. Finally, “Have we got room for one more in here?”

Fern Featherstone looks toward Phoebe and nods in response to her words. A few lank locks brush up against her narrow shoulders. She then glances toward Edward and smiles warmly toward the child. “Yes, its a little exciting. Oh, you never seen the school before?”

Keelan Walsh is standing on the platform, covered in robes that seem impervious to the rain that falls thickly from the sky. “First year students, please, this way!” She swings about a lantern, held high over her already considerably tall head, to emphasize her location. “Everyone else, the carriages are–over there!” Indeed, the carriages are lit rather warmly, as though they’ve been fitted with heating for the particularly blustery weather this Sorting day. “Come on, first years! We’ve got a lovely trip planned for you.” If being drowned from above while floating across an icy lake in the dark could possibly be considered fun.

Kara Raine hopes off the train, turning back to wave towards Rhyne. “Good luck! See you at the feast.” Glancing around, the second year tries to stay up with her fellow Ravenclaws, trying to see where they need to go next. No boat for her this year.

Alden Wexler hardly seems to notice the rain as Keelan calls out for the first years — quite despite the fact that in a little under a few moments, the poor boy in new school robes is throughly soaked, head to foot. Without a word, he does as instructed, following Keelan along the way.

Ugh, rain. Olivia sighs and pulls her hood up carefully, tucking her hair back into the hood as best she can, though the water has not done nice things to it. “I’m glad we’re finally here,” she comments to Evan, making her way to the carriage and stepping into one several down.

Riley Markham throws a somewhat cold look up at the Faculty table as he enters the Great Hall — wine red hair soaking wet despite his brief exposure to the rain. His expression is nothing short of rageful as it falls upon the Headmistress, before he flops down at the Ravenclaw table with a dark, dark hiss.

(Hufflepuff) Looking somewhat bored, Orion shifts his gaze across the hall — briefly allowing it to linger on the Gryffindor table, and two girls who sit there, and also one boy who piqued his curiousity today, before allowing his eyes to settle on the Slytherin table and the statuesque Tahiri Sol. His expression somewhat coy, much like a cat staring down a mouse.

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce shivers quietly in his chair, hair only damp now, rather than dripping wet. Aside from his cloak, which is now bundled in a sloppy mess under the table, the rest of him seemed to miss the rain. “Maybe it rained so hard, the boats capsized,” he muses darkly, eyes focused on the table where, we can hope, all sorts of warm food and drink will soon appear.

Entering later than the other faculty, Astra wipes her hands nervously on her robes. Hurrying up to the table, she doesn’t greet anyone or even Arriving at the faculty table; she walks around behind it and takes her seat.

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce sits up a bit more as the first years file in. He even goes so far as to half stand from his chair before spotting one of the straggly-haired blondes. “That’s my sister,” he murmurs to the boy beside him before taking a seat again. At least he’s not staring at the table anymore.

Keelan Walsh leads the firt years out of the Waiting Room, most of them still soaking wet, Keelan herself strangely dry as she removes a ridiculously large cloak. Up she goes toward the head of the room, darting a glance at the other faculty with a ‘And why do I have to do this?’ look on her face. Then there’s a brief smile as she disappears off to the side. Returning, she carries with her the age-old stool (although it’s sturdy) with an ages-older rumbled bit of hat. This is set down in front of the Faculty table and she steps aside, clasping her hands silently in front of herself.

Fern Featherstone follows after Keelan. Her upper teeth press gently against her thin lower lip as she attempts to control her nerves, while looking over the room from beneath the curtain of her sparse lashes. She then tilts her narrow chin and looks up toward the ceiling. A gasp is heard, but Fern stubbornly and with much pride tries to control her vocal and trembling reaction. When the hat begins to sing, she looks upon it with a nervous kind of suspicion. She then looks toward the other first years, waiting to see what how they respond before stepping into a line.

Alden Wexler widens his eyes at that last line — no matter how composed a young boy appears about the process of Sorting — the notion of possibly being bitten by a old, dirty hat raises a hint of alarm as regards the patched bit of leather on the stool from the end of the line of first years. Still, he remains quiet, hands clasped in front of him, regaining his composure with a small shake of his head that sends droplets raining in a meager arch around him.

Keelan Walsh unclasps her hands and produces from a pocket a thick role of parchment. Unfurling it a bit, she repeats the instructions, “When I call your name, step up and place the hat upon your head, please. Peering through her spectacles at the first name, her voice comes, a bit unsteady, truth be told. “Castle, Rhyne!”

“I’m going to be in Slytherin, I know it,” Satinka tells Seker in a quiet whisper as she crosses her arms. Her voice is stronger and more certain than the look on her face would have one believe, but the girl appears rather focussed on the old-looking hat that sits nearby and then glances to Keelan. “Oh, I wonder where he’ll be sorted,” she comments and watches with interest as the first name is called.

Rhyne Castle makes his way to the Sorting Hat and settles it firmly on his head, doing his best to project more confidence than he actually feels. He waits in silent anticipation for the hat’s verdict.

Rhyne Castle blinks, owlishly, as he removes the hat, looking just a little bit bewildered. Although the bemused expression doesn’t fade entirely, it is joined by something at least resembles pleasure, and he puts on a more-or-less convincing smile as he goes to join his new housemates.

Falling into line behind Satinka, Seker only nods and watches nervously as Rhyne is sorted. “I met him in Hogsmeade,” comments Seker after a moment, clapping as the boy is declared a Ravenclaw. “Well, it looks easy,” Seker notes, sighing.

Fern Featherstone shifts her slight weight from one narrow foot to another as she stands in the line. She watches as Rhyne is sorted, seemingly slightly less nervous now. Her thin lips curve into the ghost of a smile. She then glances between Satinka and Seeker, clearly listening to their words.

“It didn’t hurt him, it looks like. Looks kind of easy. All you have to do is wear it. I wonder what it does. Do you suppose it just randomly picks, or if it really does decide based on, well, how you are?” Satinka whispers back, watching for the next name to be called while Rhyne makes his way to Ravenclaw table.

Keelan Walsh calls out, “Cowper, Jason,” who takes approximately four seconds before the hat calls, “Gryffindor!” and then Keelan calls another Ravenclaw, then a Slytherin and “Featherstone, Fern!”

Alden Wexler applaudes politely as Rhyne Castle is sorted in to Ravenclaw, squinting a little as the newly sorted student removes the hat as if he might actually be able to see if the leathery bit of rag actually had teeth or not to carry out the threatened biting.

Fern Featherstone approaches the hat with tentative steps, suggesting that the slender girl is rather shy. Still she throws back her narrow shoulders and lifts her dainty chin, as if trying to display a bit of pride. She reaches for the hat, while frowning with distaste in response to its ragged appearance. She then places it upon her head, leaving her lank ragged dark locks to cascade against her shoulders. Her breath quivers in the hollow of her pale slender throat, as she awaits the sorting and her small form is tense, as she sits still, silent and statue like.

Keelan Walsh claps a bit awkwardly and briefly and then continues on with two Hufflepuffs, another Gryffindor, “Linwood, Patricia!” who goes to Gryffindor as well, a Ravenclaw followed by a Slytherin and two Gryffindors and then, with a smirk, Keelan announces, “Rathe, Satinka!”

“There’s no way it’s random, are you joking me?” Seker whispers in an incredulous tone to his sister. “Haven’t you heard of the families who all get into one house, no fail?” Seker questions, crossing his arms. “No, it’s got to read your mind or something,” he says with determination, though clapping idly. “We’ll be joining her in a few minutes, hopefully,” Seker says, watching the girl go to sit down. “Go!” Seker says suddenly.

Looking startled, Satinka lets out a gasp as her name is called, and glances back at her brother, walking to the stool with unusual caution. Hesitating a moment, she looks at the hat, and then picks it up, simultaneously plopping it on her head while sitting quickly onto the stool. She bites her lip and closes her eyes up tight, seeming to be in deep conversation, or else in deep pain while she wears the illustrious hat.

With very little pause, Keelan announces, “Rathe, Seker!” as if she really needed to emphasize that he was next in line.

Still taking deep breaths, Seker does smile as his sister is sorted, nodding in her direction. One down! Now the other Rathe needed to be placed rightfully as a son of Slytherin. Hearing his name called, Seker feels like choking and fainting (life is so hard), but instead nods and steps up to the hat, sitting down and putting it on.

“It isn’t random,” Alden assures them, finally, as Satinka’s name is called. Though he chooses not to elaborate on anything else he might have gleaned from his summer reading. He draws a deep breath the closer it gets to his name being called, idly wondering if it were better that his last name was poised at the end of the alphabet, or if it might have been more simple to be at the beginning and get it over with. Indeed, despite all appearances, he is nervous. Though largely, it’s more rooted in the fact that his mother is watching from the faculty table, and seemingly a half dozen relatives are all scattered in the audience, eagerly awaiting another Wexler in their house, and sure to give him guff should he fail to share it.

Stunned, it is a few seconds before Seker comprehends the word emitted from the hat. “What?” he asks, standing up and turning around to look at his mother, his face a mask of surprise and horror. He can’t bring himself to try and look at Satinka, not after she made it and he didn’t. What is this. What it this? Seker is in a stunned reverie as he stumbles to the Hufflepuff table, not thinking, yet, to look for Rafe or any of the other Hufflepuffs he’s acquainted with. It was probably a prank or something. Well, Seker would play along for now. “Hello!” Seker greets his ‘housemates’ with a put-on genial demeanor. “What are we having?” he asks, pointing to his empty plate with a perked brow.

Keelan Walsh chokes a bit on the next name, though Sheldon, Galen sorts to Slytherin all the same. Three Ravenclaws, a Gryffindor, and yet another Hufflepuff later, she calls, “Wexler, Alden!” who is second to last in the world of Sorting unless someone has been missing from the list or Keelan‘s recitation of names.

Alden Wexler swallow a breath, Alden steps forward, moving toward the stool and the old, patched hat with an even stride. He pauses briefly to glance up at the faculty table toward Sibyl, then to the Gryffindor table toward Briony and Felicity, before exhaling a long sigh and lifting up the Sorting Hat. With a grave expression, he climbs on to the stool and places the hat on his head.

(Hufflepuff) At least Seker isn’t alone in this misery. “Still think it’s not random?” Seker asks, having dropped his false cheeriness as reality has sunk in. His mother would have chimed in by now if this really was a joke. How could this have happened? “I can’t believe this,” Seker mutters, looking down at his lap and sighing. “How could she make it but not me?”

His eyes somewhat wide, caught a little off guard by the insight of the hat, Alden quietly removes the cap after it’s shout and slides off the old, solid stool. “Thank you,” he says, politely, to the ragged bit of leather, before turning toward the cheering table to take his seat. He was certain he could feel Briony gaping at him from behind.

Keelan Walsh calls out, “Wexler, Kyler!” who takes a seat and sits there for so long Keelan is actually startled to hear, “Slytherin!” call forth from the hat. With one last look over the assembled students, she rolls up the parchment, claps briefly, and takes the stool and hat away. When she returns, it is to her seat at the faculty table, where she relaxes, duties done.

(Hufflepuff) At least Seker isn’t alone in this misery. “Still think it’s not random?” Seker asks, having dropped his false cheeriness as reality has sunk in. His mother would have chimed in by now if this really was a joke. How could this have happened? “I can’t believe this,” Seker mutters, looking down at his lap and sighing. “How could she make it but not me?”

Melvina Prichard rises from the faculty table purposefully once the ritual of Sorting has concluded, lifting her nimble, long-fingered hands in a suggestive way as she beckons the student audience for silence. “Excuse me, quiet please — yes, that includes you, Mister Alcot.” Her voice is thick and strong, but laced with an ever-present hint of amusement. An almost coy half-grin touches her lips, looks over the heart of her school.

“Greetings, everyone,” Melvina calls, her voice dancing across the Great Hall at a comfortable volume. “Welcome to your school year nineteen hundred and twenty seven! I trust that all of you enjoyed your summer vacations! As I’m sure most you of you are now aware, my name is Melvina Prichard and I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts school. Last year, all of you helped give this blustering, frugal old woman a home and a purpose. This year, I hope to reward and repay each of you for that wonderful gift. Now, pressing on, I’ve some beginning of term announcements to make.” Clearing her throat, the Headmistress pulls a pair of spectacles from her emerald robe pocket and resting them on the bridge of her nose, before gathering up a tightly-bound scroll sitting next to her empty plate.

“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 begins to unroll the wound parchment, “Spellwork outside of the classroom, rough play, pranks, hijinxs, dungbombs, Whimple’s Pimple Powder..” Demonstratively, she allows the end of the scroll to slip from her fingers, clatter to the table, spill over the edge, and roll across the floor Great Hall until it exhausts itself somewhere near the door of the waiting room across the entrance hall. A somewhat playful glint sparkling in her eyes, Melvina sets her end of the very long list down and vanishes it with a flick of a wand which she withdraws from the sleeve of her robes. “As you can see, the list goes on. Be sure to check it.”

After a small bubble of laughter, Melvina takes up a blessedly smaller sheet of parchment. “Hogwarts tradition demands that I remind you 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 from the building pressure of knowledge our fine professor work so hard to fill your head with over the year.” A rueful chuckle escapes her as she shares a knowing smile with the hall. “Know then that detention is the minimum punishment for entering the Forbidden Forest without a member of staff or faculty beside 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. Also, I’d like to congratulate our new Head Boy and Head Girl, Andrew Larson and Margaret Cresterton. Mister Larson and Miss Cresterton, please stand.” She applauds once the two have risen, leading those who care to join her in a modest round of congratulations, before continuing on.

“Well done, Head Boy, Head Girl,” the Headmistress says, sincerely. “On to faculty. There are many exciting changes in Hogwarts staff this year, so to begin I hope you all with help me in welcoming Professor Phoebe Helit whom will be heading up our Muggle Studies department, and Professor Addison Williamson whom will helm our History of Magic class.” Melvina holds for a pleasant-enough round of applause before plowing on. “Also, though she has been with us a great while, I hope you’ll all help congratulate and welcome Professor Rathe in to her new role as Deputy Headmistress. Naturally, she’ll continue to provide you all with excellent lessons in your Defense Against the Dark Arts courses as well.” Another pause for applause, and quietly surprised murmurs — it was hardly a secret that last year Professor Rathe could hardly stand Professor Prichard. Now she was Deputy Headmistress? “Sadly, I must inform you that Professors Calwern and Ashcroft have chosen to step down. Professor Fallon will properly replace Professor Calwern as Gryffindor head of house.”

Following a deep, relieved breath and Melvina finally sets down the parchment and removes her glasses. “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. This is my second year as Headmistress of Hogwarts school — last year was a daring step on to the path of the uncertainty for all of us. A maiden voyage, where bold choices were made, some rising to shimmering brilliance, others not so much. But in this second year, the fright of the unknown fades as well all walk in a comfortable security. Each sure we know, or at suspect, of what to expect It is in this peaceful repetition that we as a family forge traditions. Thus, I announce to you all our first of many traditions, the second annual Barefoot Social.” A sly, almost devillish grin dances over the lips of the Headmistress. “A celebration of the new term, greeting those whom are just joining us, and welcoming home those of us returning for another year. 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. Obviously, she is terribly proud of herself. “As this is the mother of tradition, we shall follow the precident set by last year’s grandmother event — the ladies will need ask the gentlemen for the honor of an afternoon’s courtship.” She waits, eagerly, for the reaction to that before at last finishing up. “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 I have planned through out 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. Let’s eat.” And with small nod and a sly, lingering grin, she slips casually back in to her seat.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood inexplicably turns about ten shades of red and decides that yes, his hands are fascinating.

(Hufflepuff) Puffing up as his new house might suggest (what kind of name was Hufflepuff anyway?) Seker looks to his housemates, pausing on Alden and Charlie to note, “Did you hear that? My mum’s the Deputy Headmistress! What a title, don’t you think?” Seker is a flurry of emotion– part of him proud for his mother, part of him still wanting to die. Hufflepuff? Seriously.

(Hufflepuff) A glance is gifted to Olivia from the direction of the Slytherin table, and the girl seems to blush rather hard as she looks down at the spread in front of her, ladelling herself a rather full bowl of some hearty looking stew, then pausing to take a sip of her pumpkin juice. “That’s really great,” Olivia tells the boy, smiling, though her cheeks are still a bit pink. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it here,” she assures him, and not another thought is given to whatever uncertainness or disappointment the first years might feel as she begins eating and perhaps glancing a bit long at the Slytherin table.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood immediately makes sure his mouth is full at all times, finally eating like a real boy and getting all the food slopped together on the place and shoved into his mouth at far too quick a rate of exchange. As opposed to his normal behavior, which is to arrange everything neatly and segregated and eat slowly and with a semblance of manners. His cheecks are still a brilliant shade of pink, though Seker gets a bit of a nod and a muffled, “Congrdlatins” which is, thankfully, not accompanied by a spray from his stuffed mouth.

(Hufflepuff) Alden Wexler blinks, almost startled — a lady-ask-bloke social? How.. “Disturbing.” His voice only emits in a sort whisper, which she squelches by shaking his head somewhat. If Professor Walsh appeared down to earth, Headmistress Prichard seemed at least mildly insane. But it were tradition. Exhaling a soft sight, and taking a turkey leg with a serious expression, Alden ponders.

(Hufflepuff) “Yeah, thanks,” Seker says to Olivia before looking to Charlie. “You’re looking a bit warm,” Seker notices. “Do you have a fever or something?” he asks, starting to dig into his piled-up plate. “Yeah, disturbing,” Seker echoes Alden, though not knowing just what the boy thought was disturbing. “How can a hat be so wrong?”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood swallows and protests much too loudly, looking wildly about the table for Rafe, “I’m just fine! My sister went to Gryffindor, that’s all. I was hoping she’d um… be a Hufflepuff. So I could keep an eye on here. If she asks any of you to the thing, tell her you’ve got the pox. And then get the pox. I can’t have you going or making her feel bad.” He can’t have her going because she’ll report to their mother. “Anyway, the hat wasn’t wrong, you just don’t–”and the rest is obscured as he catches a glimpse of something cross the room and stuffs his mouth again.

(Hufflepuff) “Just don’t what?” Seker demands, voracious for any information, any explanation of why he was placed here. “What’s your name? Or, more importantly, what’s your sister’s name?” Seker crosses his arms after taking a drink of juice. “I’ll be sure to inform her that I’d love to go with her, should she want to,” Seker says, though joking. He might ask Morgana, though, depending on when this social was. Morgana was really one of the only girls he knew here so far.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood is forced into coherency again, oh no. “It’s just you don’t know how good a fit you’ll be, obviously.” A swig of–well, whatever liquid substance is in his goblet later, and there’s a, “Honestly? You don’t…” an expression mixed between crestfallen and relieved crosses Charlie‘s face. “I’m Charlie Linwood.” Pause. “You know, Beater for the Hufflepuff team?” Another pause, “Captain, actually.” See? See the shiny pin on his robes? Okay, maybe it’s not that shiny. “And uh… you can’t go with my sister because she’s… allergic to black hair. She’d be sneezing all over you.” He fails to mention her name, howevever. Not that his sister isn’t the spitting image of him (to his woe, not hers), though.

(Hufflepuff) Seker lets this alleged ‘black hair allergy’ slide, but not without a roll of his eyes. “Right, right, Charlie,” Seker says, noting the pin on the young man’s robe. “Well, good luck in Quidditch this year,” Seker says with half-hearted intensity. “I’ll be cheering in the stands,” he says, a little sarcastically as he goes back to his dinner.

Rhian Brecon settles into her announcing chair and does a quick test to make sure that everything is working properly and she can be heard. “Good afternoon boys and girls, Professors and staff. Today is a wonderful and beautiful day, perfect for the last Quidditch match of the 1926-27 school year. Today, we have a battle against two excellent houses, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. These two teams have managed to win both of their previous games this year and so making them tied, point for point for the Quidditch Cup, and so this match will determine which House walks away with the Quidditch Cup this year. This match is being refereed by Professor Walsh, our Herbology Professor. And now we merely wait for the two teams to take the field and to get this match underway.”

For the last week, the captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team has been in constant motion, bouncing from practice to practice in a blur of manic energy. Today, Eliza Marlowe is wearing the same grin that she has worn throughout the period leading up to the big game, but her eyes are serious as she looks around at her team for the last time. “Right,” she says, her strident voice as firm as ever, but with a low quiver of intensity behind it. “This is it. This is for the Cup.” Eliza looks slowly around the circle of faces. “This is what we’ve been working for this all term. We’re going to go out there and play a good game. If we win, we win cleanly. If we lose, we lose cleanly.” A different kind of quiver enters Eliza‘s voice as she mentions the possibility of losing, but she pushes ahead. “You’ve been a good team. You’ve worked hard. Now get out there and play your best.” Eliza gives her team one last crooked grin. “Good luck,” she says, and slings her broom over her shoulder to head out for the handshake that will start the match.

Alexandra Leong looks distracted as she strolls onto the pitch, broom in hand, canary yellow Quidditch robes hanging loosely, her straight black hair contained in a rough ponytail. She nods at her Captain’s little speech, making very little eye contact with her teammates. This is it, and for the Hufflepuff Seeker, the pressures are nearly overwhelming. She shifts her grip on her broom, then starts to twirl a stray strand of hair between her fingers, a nervous gesture she’s had since before her Hogwarts and Quidditch days.

Striding out to the center of the pitch, Noémie‘s face is set in a serious expression as she looks around. The stands seem to be buzzing even louder than usual on this occasion of the Quidditch Cup. The captain and seeker holds her broom down in her hand and glances around, standing off from where the Hufflepuffs are to line up before she turns to look at her teammates. “Gather ’round here,” she calls to them, clearly ready to give them a talking-to, though how harsh she will be today is a matter of some uncertainty. The cool air seems to be causing goosebumps along her arms as she waits for her team to join her.

Contrary to Noémie’s stony expression, Tegan stomps onto the pitch, looking almost angry as she settles herself near to Noémie. Riley follows just behind her, not looking quite as angry, and Tegan almost yanks him to stand next to her. “Don’t screw up today,” she hisses at the younger student, her eyes staring into his face as she says this, until he nods affirmative. The girl stands next to Noémie and crosses her arms over one another with her broom in hand and waits to see what the captain will have to say.

Rooted to the place she’s standing while listening to Eliza’s speech, Carrie stares straight at her captain with something of a determined expression having descended upon her face after Eliza finishes up. Nodding definitively as the captain goes to shake hands, Carrie, somewhat nervously, switches her broom from her right hand to her left as she takes a few tense steps ahead. She makes a point of not looking at Marybeth, but glances down to Alexandra shortly before looking to Eldric, nodding once more.

Leaning in close with the rest of her team Marybeth has her broom clutched tightly in one hand listening intently to Eliza’s pep-talk. When the captain finishes Marybeth grins and adds. “This is for all the marbles! …. No really I’ve got a big bag of marbles I’ll split them up if we win.” Yes it was a lame stab at humor but it was lighthearted and isn’t that just the Hufflepuff way? The chaser grins a final time with a small laugh bolstering her courage before she begins doing her stretches. You always want to be nice and limber for when you are playing the most exciting game ever!

Standing a little apart from his fellow Chasers, Albert Bryce listens to the captain’s speech with rapt attention…or, perhaps, nervously glazed eyes…or, perhaps, an extremely determined effort not to look at Eldric. At any rate, he’s staring straight at Eliza through the whole thing, nodding every so often, his hand wrapped so tightly around his broom that his knuckles show white.

Charlie Linwood stands, in freshly laundered robes, with a freshly polished broom, in front of Eliza, listening seriously to her speech. This is it. “For the Cup.” he croaks back, voice belying the nerves that have settled in at the last moment. It is, after all, true. If they win this the Quidditch Cup belongs to Hufflepuff… for the first time in how long? Charlie stands unnaturally firm, though he seems to force his face into a sick grin. Today of all days it is important he not accidentally hit his team instead of the other.

Bailey Williams walks out to the pitch, broom in hand, smiling and ready to retrieve the best performance of the year from himself. Stopping at the group of teammates, he addresses Tegan with a short grin and leans on his broom, waiting for his captain’s speech.

Clavicle Gravely trots out. Sort of the clown of the team, he stops in front of the Ravenclaw stands and flaps his arms, “GO RAVENCLAW!” he slings the broom, the sandsweeper 25 over his shoulder and trots over to Noémie. His robes ripple around him in the wind as he looks to the captain.

A feeling of nostalgia sweeps over Van as she makes her way out to the pitch, standing in group with her team and glancing only momentarily at the Hufflepuff team making their shouts before turning her attention forward again. It is her last match at Hogwarts, and Van seems to have to wipe a tear away as she thinks of this, taking a deep breath of the cool air and looking up into the sky. A nice clear day, perfect weather for the determinative match for the Quidditch Cup.

Eldric Carver still has a bandaged up neck, and as possibly the largest member of the team and thus the biggest target, also sports two furry purple horns like a goat’s and, barely visible under his robes, an abundance of bright pink arm hair. “I’ll get it fixed after, doesn’t change how I play!” was his reponse when he turned up to the changing rooms with these anamolies, and now he stands trying to look serious while marked by some clever but, fortunately for the casters, anonymous hexes. For a moment, he glowers over at the blue-clad players, but then nods (and grunts a bit) to his Captain’s speech and tightens his grip on both his broom and bat without a word.

“I’ve been nice this season before matches. I’ve not demanded that we win, and yet we managed to pull out wins against Gryffindor and Slytherin. Let’s keep this up and manage a win today. Let’s get that cup, because we deserve it.” Noémie‘s face is focussed and set, and her expression as she glances to Hufflepuff is almost annoyed. “We’re not going to do any stupid chanting or pep talks, because I think we have the technical skill to manage this. So, let’s pull it off. I know we can do it.” With a nod, she offers a rather strained smile to her team and turns to face the Hufflepuff team, walking forward to prepare for the handshake. Her face is stony and set as she does this, as if showing emotion to the Hufflepuff captain during the handshake will put her at a disadvantage.

Clavicle Gravely looks over to David, as David comes out as well. Today David is in serious mode. His broom is clipped and polished and he comes up to Noémie as well.

Keelan Walsh looks absolutlely disgusting in yellow, so her robes are black instead. It could almost be called unbiased, except for the yellow ribbon she’s laced around the end of her broom (Which lies next to the box of Quidditch balls). A closed expression surfaces as she watches, in a strange, detatched way, the teams chat a bit. She straightens her shoulders when it seems they’ve had enough time, clears her throat and says, “Captains? Shake hands, everyone else? You might want to get in place to start if you’re not.” Her voices rises, though still likely inaudible to the watchers. “While this game may determine which team has the glory of the Quidditch Cup,” a smirk, soft, “I want it clean. If I have to call any fouls for roughness or underhanded tactics,” she seems to look at the Ravenclaws more, though they haven’t any more record of the behavior than the Hufflepuffs, “I will not hesistate to award as many penalty shots as possible or to ground the off ending players.” Serious as stone, now, she turns to gather up the Quaffle, but doesn’t throw it yet.

At the center of the pitch, Eliza reaches a steady hand out to Noémie, and gives her Ravenclaw counterpart a firm nod. “Good luck,” she says, with complete sincerity, and even a fainter version of the crooked smile that she gave to her own team.

Noémie‘s face barely breaks its expression as Keelan makes these comments, seemingly entirely in the direction of her own team, and then nods at Eliza, giving her a stiff handshake and withdrawing her hand as quickly as she has offered it for the traditional handshake. Noémie does not say anything in response, merely nodding again and making her way back to the line of her team to make way for the chasers to vie for the Quaffle.

Readying herself to take off into the air, Carrie takes a few cleansing breaths as she looks to her feet and prepares to play a hard game. She is only vaguely aware, somehow, when she looks up to see the two captains shaking hands. Looking avidly to Keelan and the Quaffle, Carrie takes a firm grasp on her broom and waits.

Nodding firmly after the speech, Bailey looks and walks over to Clavicle and David. Clapping into his hands he urges them on. “Let’s go guys, I want to drink a good amount of butterbeer out of that cup, when this is finished.” Then he steps into position and readies himself to shoot up for the quaffle.

Making her way to get into position as the captains shake hands Marybeth is primed and ready…. if not completely nervous. She flashes a friendly smile Eldric’s way despite his shocking appearance while Professor Walsh makes her statement. She takes a deep breath and readies herself mounting her broom waiting for word to start.

Charlie Linwood moves rather mechanically to his proper spot, bringing down his broom and lifting one leg over it to stand like a muggle child with a broom for a pony, feet still on the ground. Holding his broom one-handed as he has learned to, he holds his bat-hand in the air at what could be a menancing angle if only he didn’t look so ridiculous standing and waiting. Perhaps if he didn’t look as though he might be sick it would help as well.

Tegan uncrosses her arms and crosses them again, doing this over and over until Riley finally reaches over and snatches at her arms, forcing them to hang at her sides for the time being. Tegan glares in his direction as she stands this way, and stands on her tiptoes to see what Bailey is doing, and whether he even notices her. No, Tegan! Now is not the time to get distracted. The girl manages to shake the thought out of her head and she watches for the whistle, putting her broom in a position to be able to take off for the bludgers as soon as she can.

Alexandra Leong hops onto her broom and stands ready to take off. Her gloved hands fiddle nervously with the polished handle of her broom, rubbing at none existent smudges and scratches. “We have to win we have to win we have to win…” she mutters to herself, her face scrunched with with anxiety.

Van seems to still be trying to stifle the tears that want to fall from her eyes, and she waves rather discreetly towards the Gryffindor bleachers, a smile spreading over her face. Then she seems to realize the gravity of the situation, and she rolls her shoulders a bit, rotating her arms as if to limber herself up for the shots that might come her way over the course of what promises to be a very exciting match.

Clavicle Gravely straddles the Sandsweeper and gets ready to take flight. The Egyptian broom is ready, polished and trimmed. He looks determinedly to Bailey. “Lets hope the pratices paid off then. ” he grins, having spent quite a few days in practices with Bailey getting passes down and all. David is ready as well. He looks to Noémie and Tegan and gives a thumbs up, then turns to watch the release of the quaffle.

Eldric Carver tries a smile at Marybeth, but it seems the final Quidditch match of the season, one which is so important, has drained most of his flirtatious spirit. Moving into position, his eyes fix on Professor Walsh expectantly, legs already pushing down a bit in anticipation of take-off. Unlike Charlie, he manages to look somewhat imposing with his bat lofted, as long as nobody notices, in the slip of his robes, the arm hair, or that his horns have a bit of sparkle to them. Really.

Keelan Walsh pauses, still holding the Quaffle, to release the latch that holds the Snitch in it’s own compartment. The golden ball flies out, hovers for a second, and then soars upward erratically, as if unsure how it will fly today. Turning, now, the Herbology professor straightens. With one last look at the teams (is that the tinyest of smiles toward both?), she brings the whistle to her lips, lofts the Quaffle skyward with a strange amount of force, considering it’s one handed, and blows. With one shrill note, the Cup game has begun.

As the whistle blows, Noémie pushes off the ground and flies high up into the air as fast as she can manage. If she is high up where she can see the action, she figures she will be better suited towards catching the snitch quickly. At this point, the little gold ball is out of sight, unable to be seen from where she is high above the pitch. However, as the match has just begun, Noémie does not appear nervous at this.

Glancing momentarily at Riley, Tegan kicks off the ground and flies up, brandishing her bat in her right hand. Her arm is reared back, as if there is a bludger to be hit already, despite that the bludgers have not yet been released. “Remember, Riley! AIM!” She calls to her very sullen-looking teammate as she flies to the other side of the pitch as he is at. Riley, for his own part, makes his way towards the center, watching Keelan carefully for the release of the bludgers.

With all her speed Marybeth is up in the air gunning toward the quaffle, her expression determined losing it’s usual carefree expression. With an outstretched hand she hopes to grab it before any of the Ravenclaw chasers do. As she draws closer Marybeth pushes herself to go faster and faster until she is close enough to try and make a grab for the quaffle plucking it out of the air like so much ripe melon! The girl begins flying with all her speed down pitch ready to play he heart out in this one.

In a flash, Eliza is in the air and soaring swiftly towards the goalposts, taking up her position as Keeper. Her eyes narrow, keeping close watch on the Quaffle as she edges from side to side, covering as much space as she can. “Good luck!” Eliza shouts. “Go for it, Campbell! You’ve got it!”

Rhian says, “The two teams have come out of their respective lockers, words are exchanged among them, obviously encouraging words from the Captains to their own teams. The two Captains, Seeker Noémie Ribouet for Ravenclaw and Keeper Eliza Marlowe for Hufflepuff, come to the center were Professor Walsh waits for them, which they give their starting handshakes before the two teams take their starting positions. Professor Walsh releases the Snitch before it goes zooming off, then one last look at the teams, she blows the whistle and tosses the Quaffle into the air. The game has started. Cambell manages to get a hold of the Quaffle off the toss-up for Hufflepuff as the bludgers are also released. The Hufflepuff Chasers take the Quaffle and head down to the Ravenclaw goals, the Ravenclaws working on keeping up with them.”

Van is already up in the air when the quaffle is caught by a Hufflepuff chaser, and this causes the Keeper to fly even quicker towards the hoops, readying herself quickly. Perhaps she ought to have spent less time in practice goofing off. The seventh year is stationed in front of the hoops, however, and she holds her arms up, balancing carefully on the broom as she looks out at the clump in the middle of the field, keeping her eye mostly on the chaser with the quaffle.

Bolting into the air as the professor tosses the quaffle up and blows the whistle, Carrie is off with quick reflexes. The girl notes Marybeth’s better positioning to snatch the thing and veers left, out of her way. Seeing her catch out of the corner of her eye, Carrie flits towards the Ravenclaw goalposts, turning around after having gotten a bit closer to them, her arms outstretched. “Marybeth!”

Alexandra Leong kicks off hard and scrambles towards the snitch, but it vanishes within seconds. Grumbling, the small Hufflepuff climbs rapidly, stopping a dozen feet above the rest of the players, scanning the entire pitch for signs of the erratic little golden ball that is her query. “Come to Hufflepuff…” she says in a small voice… “I’m wearing yellow, see? We could be friends, little snitch…” This recent bout of talking to objects (inanimate or otherwise) appeared last week, after speaking with a teacup resulted in a successful transfiguration of said teacup into a skittering spider-like creature. She pays almost no attention to Noémie, at least for the moment.

Clavicle Gravely shoots for the sky in the swarm of chasers shooting up after the Quaffle. His robes wip around him and he looks determined, but he is not in the lead today, as he had a bad shove off at the get go. He sees Marybeth get the quaffle to begin with and instead tries to get into a better position to harry the Hufflepuff on the way to the rings. David shoots up as well to prepare to try to steal the Quaffle as well. The two split to try to come at the Hufflepuff girl from both sides to force her away from the rings if successful.

Keelan Walsh watches for a minute and then, quickly, frees the bludgers, ducking under them as they move at first of their own speed, with the seeming joy these inanimate objects always seem able to express at freedom. One bludger heads up at almost a straight line, detouring at last toward Bailey, though the course is random. Of course, a bludger doesn’t focus on one person. The other bludger moves skyward toward Alexandra, as if aware(though of course it is not) that the other went for a Ravenclaw. For her part, Keelan mounts her broom and begins the slow, careful circling of the pitch, eyes darting here and there with a strange intensity, alert for fouls.

Seeing Marybeth moving forward to catch the Quaffle, Albert moves to take up a supporting position. One hand out to catch the ball if Marybeth decides to pass, Albert starts to maneuver himself carefully between David and Marybeth, trying to prevent the opposing Chaser from intercepting any passes. Albert aims a quick, wary glance over his shoulder at David, keeping a careful eye on his Ravenclaw counterpart.

With the sound of the whistle Bailey kicks off and rushes towards the quaffle. Seeing that Marybeth has an advantage, he accelarates even harder, trying to tip it out of her hand. But as the Hufflepuff grabs the ball, Bailey zooms up, performing a hard turn to chase the carrier. He notices his fellow chasers approaching her from both sides and keeps follow her closely.

Spying that one bludger is headed toward one of her own chasers, Tegan begins to fly toward it quickly, her bat brandished. “Heads up, Bailey!” she calls to him, to warn him of the danger he’s in in case she should be too slow to get to it. Thankfully, Tegan catches up to the bludger fast enough to be able to give it a whack, sending it directly toward Marybeth in hopes of dislodging the Quaffle from Hufflepuff posession. Riley watches for the moment, as he is not entirely motivated to go save the other team’s seeker from being hit by a quaffle.

Charlie Linwood is in the sky as soon as the whistle blows, though he sort of hovers below the rest of the teams, waiting for the release of the bludgers. As they are, he notes the one that hurtles toward Alexandra, and makes pace to stop it, bat brandished two-handed like the club it is. Coming level, he looks, briefly, for a flash of blue, and smacks the ball away from his team and toward–it looks like Tegan. Oops. Never hit a bludger at the opposite beater, Charlie.

Flying as fast as her broom will take her Marybeth is well aware of the three Ravenclaws on either side of her and looks hastily down the pitch while maneuvering a bit snakily to avoid them. A great smile comes to her face as her savior Carrie is spotted and with a great heave Marybeth sends the quaffle hurtling toward her fellow chaser down the pitch with a yell of excitement “Carrie!” It is unfortunate however that the moment the quaffle left her hand Marybeth was struck in the side by bludger hit by Tegan and nearly slips off of her broom before catching herself. Well she seems alright for now.

Eldric Carver is off toward the bludger Charlie hits before he spots Charlie doing so as well and makes a wide, banking turn to avoid redundancy. The redirected bludger is spotted, but of course he’s farther from it than he should be and doesn’t make it in time to save Marybeth. “Sorry!” escapes as he zips past to redirect it from his own Chasers–toward Clavicle goes the bludger, at the sound of Eldric‘s bat. The horns seem to quiver, but of course they can’t be. Too small.

Wincing as Marybeth takes a rather nasty-looking blow from a bludger, Carrie has only a split second in which to compose herself. Doing so, the girl lunges down to receive Marybeth’s pass, managing to catch it using two hands. “Okay!” she exclaims, turning and bolting off in the direction of the Ravenclaw hoops, hoping to make it there before the Ravenclaw chasers can catch her.

Rhian says, “With the bludgers released, a new danger is in the game. One of the bludgers goes after Williams, though Madison manages it to deflect it before it got too close to the Ravenclaw Chaser, hitting it towards Campbell in hoping to get Ravenclaw the Quaffle. The second Bludger has gone after Leong, the Hufflepuff Seeker. Linwood manages to get that Bludger away from Leong, though now it heads toward Madison, possibly a bad move. Campbell notices she’s surrounded by blue and passes the Quaffle to Whittier, just before she gets hit by the Bludger sent by Madison. Carver gets the last of that Bludger and sends it off toward Gravely.”

Wincing at the impact of the Bludger with his teammate’s side, Albert still keeps his focus, and moves ahead to position himself for a pass forward from Carrie. They’ve practiced this dozens of times – Albert keeps his eyes on Carrie, ready for one of her fancy flying tricks. And he keeps on the Quaffle, ready for another pass so that he can bring the ball one step closer to the goal.

Startled that for once a bludger is headed directly towards her, Tegan‘s head seems to quirk a bit, but not for long as she sends the bludger flying to the group of chasers, hoping to hit Carrie this time, as she has already managed to shake up the quaffle’s posession from Hufflepuff a little bit. Riley spots the other bludger flying towards one of the Ravenclaw chasers, and starts flying speedily down toward the group of chasers in hopes of intercepting it before it hits someone. “Look out!” he calls and brandishes his bat out as far as he can manage to try to keep the bludger from hitting. He only barely manages to whack it back in the other direction, at nobody in particular before he has to pull out of the way rather than run into his own teammate.

Clavicle Gravely turns and sees the pass and whips the sandsweeper 25 around. He pours on the speed. The Egyptian broom is built for speed and soon he’s catching up to the hufflepuff, The broom catches up to the other and Clavicle sees David’s broom didn’t quite have the speed to be close enough, so he tries for a steal, He shoves at the Quaffle, and sends it off towards Bailey instead!

Charlie Linwood seems to have taken up protecting Alex, somewhat out of his head at the fact that this leaves Eldric to deal with both bludgers most of the time. He doesn’t get too close to her, but neither does he swoop in to join the main fray. Charlie‘s face has gone about as pale as it is able, though he swings his bat around in a somewhat lunatic way.

Rubbing her side furiously and just hovering in place for a moment Marybeth shakes her head to get over the pain of the blow and get her head back in the game. Again she quickly begins to fly down the pitch this time trailing a bit behind Carrie as a bit of a safety net incase the quaffle needs to be passed backward. This time Marybeth is quite careful to be on the look out for bludgers as well as Ravenclaws…. those things really do hurt. Letting out a cry of frustration as Ravenclaw steals the quaffle, she moves into position flying toward Bailey with aggressive speed.

Eldric Carver does notice Charlie’s abscense as he flies to meet the bludger with his bat. Carrie of all people on the team is under his particular protection (plus he was already right there), and so off the ball goes, this time toward Bailey, given that the Ravenclaw Chaser seems to be in line to take the stolen Quaffle. “Go!” he calls to the Hufflepuff Chasers, not waiting for the ball to get closer.

“Aughhh!” the girl shrieks in aggravation, in echo to Marybeth, as Carrie loses possession of the quaffle. Attempting to trail Marybeth without competing with her, Carrie flies a fair distance behind her. Spotting Albert, Carrie moves to compensate, trying to maximize Hufflepuff’s position for opportunities on the pitch.

Either Alexandra is exceptionally brave, or she just didn’t see the fact that she was quite close to getting creamed by a bludger. Either way, she carries on zooming about the pitch, looking for any sign of the snitch, while starting to keep an eye on Noémie. Her flying is quite solid, although her turns are wide and occasionally wobbly.

Stolen! “Blast!” Albert exclaims. He leans down over the handle of his broom, pushing himself faster to chase after the stolen Quaffle that is now heading towards his own goal. Faster – faster – he zips ahead of first Carrie and then Marybeth. Albert‘s eyes are fixed firmly on the Quaffle in Clavicle’s hand as he speeds forward, his breath quickening as he spurs his broom ever faster.

Hearing Noémie’s call, Bailey ducks on instinct as the bludger passes him and knocks Marybeth in the side. He races towards Carrie now, catching up to her and letting himself drop a bit beneath her, using her as a protection from the approaching bludger. “Watch out, Clavicle.” Bailey calls. But too late, Clavicle has been fast enough to hustle the quaffle out of Carrie’s possession. Swooping down to finally catch it, then forming up with Clavicle and David to initiate the offence, Bailey calls “David! Left!” and dashes the quaffle over his shoulder towards David at a good speed and just manages to avoid the bludger in time, hoping that he’ll get knocked away soon.

Riley has stayed near his teammates and is ready to meet the bludger, rearing his bat back and giving it a hard whack up towards Alexandra, despite the fact that Charlie appears to be guarding her closely. The bludger flies off and gratefully Riley turns his attention back to his chasers. The other bludger seems to have veered off its course that Tegan sent it off on, and the girl flies towards it to try and prevent it from hitting her own seeker, catching up to it quickly. Soon, Tegan has whacked the bludger back towards the group of chasers, aimed right towards Albert.

Clavicle Gravely races to the side and calls out “YES!” He grins then blanches as a bludger races at him “NO!” He dives trying to get away from the thing but banks…trying to lead it over to the ravenclaw beaters “Assistance!” David hears the call and takes the Quaffle, He chuckles a bit. “That boy is cursed by bludgers. ” he races back towards his scoring hoop!

Faster, faster – Albert flies in a perfect, smooth arc, his hand out to intercept the Quaffle at the peak of its flight – and then with a cry of alarm, he abruptly jerks out of the way as a bludger comes hurtling directly at him. “Aaaaahhh!” Albert manages to escape the bludger, but he is too far away from the Quaffle to even make another try for it. “Blast!” he mutters again, and speeds forward again in a desperate attempt to protect his own goal.

Charlie Linwood snorts. “Hah!” he calls. “That’s not ruddy well going to work!” Really, he’s much too close to Alex (without, you know, being so close as to crowd her) for a bludger to get through. Even in his somewhat panicked state (with a distinct sort of green tinge about the edges), he can at least smack the bludger back toward the Ravenclaws–this time, actually, toward their own Seeker and Captain.

Rhian says, “The Bludgers are getting a beating as Madison now hits one of the Bludgers to the Hufflepuff Chasers in general, while Markham manages to protect his own Chasers and sends that Bludger off to nowhere it seems. Gravely attempts to interfere with the pass to Whittier and knocks the Quaffle off toward Williams in Ravenclaw’s attempts to steal the Quaffle from Hufflepuff. With the Ravenclaw steal, the players move back the other way, though Williams now has a Bludger after him thanks to Carver. Williams tosses the Quaffle back over his shoulder to Mildred as Bryce attempted and failed to steal the Quaffle from the Ravenclaws due to one of the Bludgers getting in the way thanks to Madison. The other Bludger is sent off to Leong by a hit from Markham. Ravenclaw still has the Quaffle and getting awefully close to Marlowe and the goalposts she’s guarding. Linwood manages to intercept the Bludger heading towards Leong and sends it after Ribouet who is seeking the Snitch as well.”

Watching as Albert tries to take the quaffle and fails Marybeth hurries to try and make up for it racing at top speed around Albert and his bludger to make her way behind David. She is a bit behind though and catching up is going to take some doing but that’s what Hufflepuff is good for, trying hard. Marybeth bites down on her lip and really lays into her broom.

Eldric Carver again fails to keep the bludger from one of his Chasers, though mostly because there is only so much flying space, and over half of both teams appear to be attempting to use the same amount. Still, once Albert misses the bludger(or rather, it misses him), it’s an easy enough hit back toward David, nostrils dialated in annoyance. Well, at least continually deflecting the same bludger from and to the same people is something to do. And he does enjoy hitting them. The bludgers, not the people.

Clavicle Gravely recovers and races towards the goal. David is doing well as well, and coming in to the edge of the scoring zone. he suddenly banks right at the scoring zone edge and makes a hand off to Clavicle as the boy races by, Clavicle uses the move he and Bailey practiced a lot. suddenly braking fast and hard, he feints high and shoots at the lower hoop, It’s his first in game scoring attempt.

As David catches safely, Bailey swerves to the left hoop and waves to him, signalling that he’s unguarded. Hovering inches before the zone, he is ready to shoot into it and attempt a score. One fine pass and Ravenclaw would lead in that deciding game. But then the quaffle is tossed to Clavicle, who performed the known manouver. “Come on, Clav…” Bailey mutters and zooms lower to be set up to catch a dropped quaffle or so, watching his teammate attempting the score at the right hoop.

Tegan is ready to leave her seeker to the job she has before her, and then seeing that the bludger has been whacked in her direction, Tegan backtracks a bit, quickly hitting the bludger in the direction of the hoops, hoping that she’ll maybe get it to the Keeper, now that the quaffle is in scoring range so that her team has a chance at scoring. Riley, for his own part, makes his way towards the bludger which is headed toward David, and tries to get a hold on it. Within seconds, he has managed to catch up to it, and whacks it in a direction that he thinks will make it head toward Marybeth, but which instead seems to head down the other direction on the pitch, headed directly toward his own keeper. In a resigned fashion, he begins to fly down to retrieve it an hopefully manage to hit it actually toward a Hufflepuff.

Eldric Carver has banked back somewhat to escape the crowding of Chasers and to keep from entering the scoring zone, a glance sent toward Keelan, but now sees the bludger on it’s way to help and quickly darts into line. There is a massive CRACK as the pink-arm-haired, purple-horn bearing Beater swings back and then forward, this bludger sent chasing after Riley as well. After all, if Riley gets taken out and doesn’t save Van from his own bludger, well, that might be a penalty shot, right?

Throughout the match, Eliza has been hovering a few yards in front of the goalposts, watching the interchange of Quaffle and bludgers, shouting encouragement to her team. “Good! Right, keep it up! Good save, Bryce!” And then, suddenly, the Quaffle is heading towards Eliza, and she is speaking to herself. “Right! Here it comes!” With a little upwards skip, she takes off towards the right-hand goalpost, keeping her eye fixed on the ball. Aiming…aiming…and then WHACK! she spins swiftly to block, hitting the Quaffle away from the goal with a firm smack of the bristles of her broom.

Clavicle Gravely flies stright through the zone and out of the other side. He begins circling back, unlike what some may think, he is not dissapointed he was blocked. Quite the contrary, he looks exstatic he got to try. “I’ll get it next time!” he calls out to Eliza as he circles around laughing, he looks to see where the quaffle is. David never entered the zone, he’s all business, and zips down to assist Bailey to attempt to get the Quaffle.

“Where are you, little snitch?” Alexandra continues to mutter to herself. “Don’t you like me anymore? Come on little snitch… I’ll be gentle…” She’s flying in faster and faster circles now, a sense of desperation and panic raising in her chest. “Snitch snitch snitch… snitch… SNITCH!” A glitter of gold catches the small girl’s eye, and immediate she starts to zoom towards the stands.

Sighing a breath of relief when the Quaffle is deflect Marybeth hurries a bit faster trying desperately to catch up and catch it. She is nearly next to Clavicle and begins racing with him giving him a bit of a glare…. well as much of a glare as a Hufflepuff will muster that is. Her eyes quickly dart forward though onto Bailey.

Tegan flies quickly down the pitch toward the bludger, as she certainly doesn’t want to give Hufflepuff free penalty shots, especially if Van is taken out by it. She manages to get to the bludger in enough time to block it from Riley, and she sends it flying toward Marybeth this time, rather than back toward the keeper. The crowd around the goals causes Tegan to fly back toward it quickly so as to save her own teammates from the bludger if necessary.

“Argh.” Bailey hits his broom and dives for the bounced off quaffle, which just passed him by a few yards. He picks it up, hoping that David and Clavicle got out of the zone quickly enough and rushes towards the left hoop, trying to catch Eliza off guard. “Hewk!” Bailey strikes out and fires the quaffle at the hoop, leaning hard into the shot to give it an enourmous boost. Then he performs a curve and watches the ball rushing for ten points.

Rhian says, “Carver manages to protect his Chasers by sending the Bludger off toward Mildred is passing the Quaffle off toward Gravely to make a scoring attempt. Madison sends one of the Bludgers off to Marlowe, who is intercepted by Carver, which is now going after Marcham, who in turn just sent a Bludger down at his own Keeper, Douglass and is now attempting to intercept it once more. Marlowe protects the goal by knocking the Quaffle away with her broom and while Gravely and Mildred get out of the way, Williams manages to recover the Quaffle to try and score again.”

Riley Markham curses, quiet loudly, as he darts across the pitch after the bludger he sent sailing toward Van. He wasn’t having a terribly good game so far, he thought. Trailing through the sky as fast or faster than the safety regulations for a Windwalker would suggest, he demonstrates a hint of his only real talent, it would seem, on the quidditch pitch — trick flying. Out-running the by fractions, he does his best to position himself between it and the keeper.. only to find Tegan having taken it out from under him. He can’t help but shoot the girl a somewhat angered, narrowed expression. Floating there for a moment with no real purpose, he watches the cluster of people at the other end of the pitch for a long moment before drifting that direction, until he’s lingering around mid-pitch.

Eliza‘s relief at protecting her goal lasts for barely a second before the Quaffle is back in action again. Speeding across the length of the goalposts, Eliza leans down, kicking her heels back as if by doing so, she could make her broom go faster. Closer, closer – Eliza turns outwards, trying to intercept the ball before it can reach the goal It’s to no avail, though – the Quaffle gets to the goalpost a fraction of a second before Eliza does, and it goes through. “Blast it!” she cries, her face crumpling with frustration as the opposing team scores.

Clavicle Gravely does something very odd to Marybeth. he waggles his eyebrows and winks. Clavicle is having the time of his life. He comes up neck and neck with the Hufflepuff girl and pours on the speed, trying to outclass her broom with the egyptian sport model he’s using. He’s racing her. What a cheeky bugger. “Nice hair.” he comments as he pulls ahead a bit. David is racing around back as well. Heading towards the : Quaffle, waiting for it to hit play again!

Spotting that Alexandra has started flying quickly toward something that she herself can’t see, Noémie turns quickly and starts on Alexandra’s path, trying to catch up to the other seeker to hopefully overtake her and snatch the snitch out of the air before her. After several moments, Noémie manages to come up to full speed and comes neck-and-neck with Alexandra, flying perilously close to the girl on her left, trying to keep up as well with the tiny gold ball.

“Aww nuts!” Cries out Marybeth as the Quaffle is scored and Ravenclaw gets in the lead. Worse still that little ravenclaw twig is _hitting_ on her distracting her badly and eliciting another glare. As she turns Marybeth is indeed so distracted that she has no idea that there is a bludger coming right at her until it is far too late. Again poor Marybeth is pummeled this time right in her stomach taking the wind right out of her and probably her lunch too, though wether from the bludger or from the younger boy’s advances is anyone’s guess.

Bailey raises a fist into the air as the quaffle sails through the hoop with a loud “CLONK!” Not saying anything, as the game isn’t decided at all yet, Bailey nods over to his fellow chasers and gets back into formation, peering for a cheer or any other reaction from Tegan, until the game is continued.

Eldric Carver throws Eliza a look, whether sympathetic or annoyed, it’s hard to tell, but either way, he’s distracted from his duties–and then there’s bits of lunch in the air and Eldric swerves hard to the right to avoid being splattered, and misses. Now he’s got purple-and-sandwich colored horns, and bits of partially digested something in his hair. Behold the Hufflepuff’s elder beater’s panic. “Disgusting! Campbell!” Far be it for him to feel sympathy or responsbility, he’s got bits of regurgitated food in his hair. Apparently, far be it for him to remember the closeness of the bludger until it’s almost too late again. Flying erratically, he hits it away-up, really, just far, and continues doing weird circles to get the vomit off without, you know, touching it.

Clavicle Gravely nods to Marybeth. “I had the pea’s for lunch too. by the by…there’s a bludger coming.” he zips off having a laugh. He gives a hands up victory fist to Bailey. “Good show!” He sighs, maybe he can score next time. “I’d stay away from the ham before a game next time though.” David can’t help but go, “Ewh, Gravely…that’s just…gross!”

Gulping back her frustration and anger, Eliza zips behind the goalposts, dipping down to retrieve the fallen Quaffle before it can descend any further. “Blast, blast, _blast_!” she mutters, her expressive face still crinkled in a frown of discontent as she soars back up to the level of the other players, the Quaffle held securely in one hand. Up goes Eliza‘s arm, drawing back to wind up, and then she sends the Quaffle flying in a high, graceful arc over the cluster of people crowded around the Hufflepuff goal with a forceful overhand throw. “Campbell, are you all right?” she calls, a different sort of frown coming to her face as she watches her Chaser’s plight. “Carver! Focus!”

Riley Markham curses, quiet loudly, as he darts across the pitch after the bludger he sent sailing toward Van. He wasn’t having a terribly good game so far, he thought. Trailing through the sky as fast or faster than the safety regulations for a Windwalker would suggest, he demonstrates a hint of his only real talent, it would seem, on the quidditch pitch — trick flying. Out-running the by fractions, he does his best to position himself between it and the keeper. Ultimately, it’s a narrow victory on Riley‘s part. Inching out ahead of his clobbered bludger, he has very little bat-room to swing and his deflection away from Van sents it up high and above the grouped crowd on the end of the pitch, angling up toward the sky. Still, the power he puts behind the hit rather substantial. The sound of the bat cracking against the leather cannonball is echoing. “At least I can do something right!”

Charlie Linwood is startled when Alex begins moving in earnest toward the stands, and looks wildly about himself for signs of the bludgers. Down, he goes, as the bludgers soar upward–”Hey, Carver, what are you playing at?” Charlie missed any Quaffle and/or Gravely induced vomiting, and instead hits the first bludger back down at the group of Ravenclaw Chasers, and turns tail to get to the bludger and aim it again at Noémie. Just a little bit further–CRACK! Well, hopefully it won’t get too near Alex, who he watches with no small amount of trepidition.

Pulling hastily away from the distressed Marybeth – and giving Eldric’s filth-covered form a look that is decidedly less romantic and admiring than any she has given him before – Carrie keeps her focus on the game and races up towards the Quaffle. Looping neatly around Clavicle’s back, Carrie reaches out to snatch up the Quaffle in one hand, holding on to her broom with the other as she speeds towards the Ravenclaw goal. Albert circles around the other way, giving his other teammates a wide berth, and starts flying ahead of Carrie, positioning himself for a forward pass.

Rhian says, “Williams gets back into position and Ravenclaw scores! Ravenclaw has made the first score of the game as it is now Ravenclaw-10, Huffelpuff-0. Marlowe takes the Quaffle and tosses it to one of her own Chasers, Whittier , who with the others heads down the other side of the pitch to try and answer the Ravenclaw swore. The Bludgers come flying back around, one heading towards Campbell which her, once more. See’s she’s having some bad luck today with those Bludgers. The other one Markham manages to deflect from Douglass, sending it off into the sky with quite an amount of force. Linwood manages to get one of the Bludgers, sending it after the Ravenclaw Chasers. What is this? It seems the Seekers have found the Snitch. First it was Leong and Ribouet is after it as well. They are neck and neck as they chase after the Snitch. The match and the cup rely solely on these two ladies as they go after it. Linwood has now sent the second Bludger after Ribouet to try and get her off the chase of the Snitch.”

Both bludgers go flying at once, and Tegan is alarmed to see her seeker targeted once again. She flies quickly toward the bludger in hopes of catching up to it. The seekers are moving very quickly and the girl is having a tough time catching up to the bludger, but she does finally manage to do so, hitting it toward another Hufflepuff chaser with an echoing crack.

Wobbling badly on her broom as the bludger is smacked away by Charlie Marybeth can’t seem to get her broom to go forward even though she is leaning hunched over cursing the sarcastic ravenclaw’s name (which she wished she knew… so she could actually curse at it you know.) she begins sinking toward the ground slowly until she is safely on the grass before collapsing on her side.

Alexandra Leong clenches her teeth as she zooms straight for the stands. Noémie’s presence is not lost on Alexandra. She urges her broom on, gaining a bit of speed, but the quickly upcoming stands forces her to abandon speed for manuverability. The snitch is quite clearly in front of her, a fluttering golden ball, extremely speedy, and extremely erratic. The Hufflepuff Seeker almost slams into a supporting beam holding up the stands as she follows the snitch. Weaving between the various beams, supports, and struts, she tries to keep up, and almost succeeds… until she grazes a beam with her left arm, causing her robes to rip, revealing a deep, argry looking scratch.

Clavicle Gravely was going for the Quaffle as well but Linwood’s well aimed blow sends a bludger at him, His face blanches and he dodges to the side as the cannonball like bludger slams right by him, “Great bones… that thing gave me a shave as it went by… and I don’t have whiskers yet! Markham! A hand!” he zips around to head towards a beater to get the bludger off of him. David banks swiftly and takes off after Carrie to try to Harry her Scary scoring attempt!

Noémie manages to avoid the beam, but is forced to dive a bit and pull back up as she tries to avoid getting hit, pulling forward ever so slightly from Alexandra, but she is still unable to grab onto the tiny gold ball. While they zoom about, avoiding the supports and the beams, and then soon they’re out of the bleachers again, flying now behind them, out of view of the pitch, and thankfully, out of range of the bludgers. The girl’s balance seems off, and her broom begins to veer of its own accord, separating her distance with Alex until she is a full two feet away, though she tries to guide the broom back closer to where the snitch flies. Soon, there is a swift right turn and she follows the snitch back into the stadium, barely missing a beam to the head as she closes the distance between Alex and herself again.

“Campbell!” Eliza shouts. “Get to the nurse! Whittier! Bryce! Spread out! Cover that ground! Only two of you now! Good work, Alex! Keep going!” Either Eliza is no longer feeling the pain of letting the shot go through, or she has gotten too busy with her teammates’ plight to pay much attention to her own emotions. “Come on! Carver, focus! Whittier, watch out behind you! Come on, Alex!”

Charlie Linwood is totally distracted by the disappearance of the Seekers underneath the stands, eyes trying to follow them as he catches glimpses of yellow and blue through the beams–and then there’s Noémie again, and Alex with a cut. “Oi!” Then Charlie seems to remember his duties as a Beater, and spins around to look for the bludgers. Quickly he zooms, rather faster than normal, and the bludger is this time aimed for the Ravenclaw Chasers. He isn’t about to risk putting Alex off track by aiming at Noémie, that’s for certain.

Eldric Carver is very, very distracted by his state of disgustingness, but at the reappearance of Charlie where he belongs there’s a” Took you long enough, Linwood!” and a redoubling of efforts in order to look better. The bludger that missed Clavicle is zoomed toward, now, Eldric‘s expression determined that he get to it before one of the Ravenclaw Beaters can.

Alexandra Leong can’t hear anything but the whistling of the wind past her ears. She’s struggling with her control of her broom; with one arm injured, her turns are becoming less and less controlled. She’s slowing down, little by little, as the pain of her arm starts to register. The snitch is gaining a larger and larger lead on both Seekers, and it threatens to disappear into the sky once more. “Come on come on come on…” Alexandra mutters as she flattens herself further on her broom, hoping to gain speed and control.

Following their captain’s instructions, Carrie and Albert split off, veering sharply towards opposite sides of the field while Carrie accelerates, struggling to move past Clavicle. Albert, too, tries to maintain his speed as he spins off from Carrie – but a bludger is whistling towards him, and he lets out a yelp and wheels even further to the side, sending himself spinning into a barrel roll. Charlie saves him from the bludger, but vertigo is another story – Albert shakes his head quickly to clear it. From far ahead of him, Carrie still has time to laugh, “Leave the fancy flying to me, Albert!” as she speeds ever faster.

“Argh!” Tegan hollers as Clavicle shouts about the bludger, doing her best to go and intercept the one headed toward her chasers now. “Let’s pull close!” she suggests to Riley, flying in toward her team as fast as she can manage and rearing her bat back. The girl is soon amidst the thick of things, her bat held high as she whacks the bludger quickly toward Albert this time, trying to knock out as many opposing chasers as she can manage. “Get the other, would you?” she calls to Riley and bites her lip, following in the direction that she has hit the bludger in case of a quick return.

Riley Markham lofts his brows and dashes forward from having been more or less waiting at mid-pitch, sparing a somewhat side-long look toward Clavicle before pulling up high enough to collect the bludger, somewhat above the rest of the tightly knit group of chasers mingling below. A small bunt to hold the bludger more or less stationary is followed by a hard whack — supposedly in the direction of the approaching Eldric, in an attempt to de-bat him. Instead, however, the bludger archs upward toward Leong, quite by accident, in a startling burst of speed and power.

Rhian says, “Tegan has managed to get the Bludger away from Ribouet and Leong as the two Seekers now disappear among the stands… but there… Leong seems slightly hurt, loosing some ground on the Snitch. Gravely almost got hit by one of the other Bludgers, quite a close call as help is called for the Ravenclaw Chasers. There’s the Snitch, as it and the Seekers come back out onto the pitch. Ribouet seems to have lost a bit of ground on Leong but is working hard to gain it back. Campbell seems too hurt from the two Bludger blows in order to continue as she leaves the pitch to be seen by the Nurse. Linwood has learned his lesson and now sends one of the Bludgers back to the Ravenclaw Chasers who outnumber the Hufflepuffs 3 to 2 in their Chasers. Let’s see how long the Hufflepuffs can hold onto the Quaffle. The Bludgers are going everywhere, Bryce has had to dodge one, the beaters are going insane trying to keep the Ravenclaws off the Hufflepuffs or the Hufflepuffs from scoring.”

Going after Albert and getting between him and Carrie, Bailey watches the quaffle and Albert, trying to guard him as close as he the speed allows it.

Resisting the urge to shove her shoulder into Alexandra, Noémie flies straight for a moment, and then as the snitch ascends, she makes her way into the sky, flying up higher and higher, trying to get her fingers around it. Having the other seeker right neck-and-neck with her makes it more difficult, as well as the snitch staying just out of reach. Noémie‘s face is red from exertion as well as frustration at not having caught the snitch yet, despite the chase it has been. Grunts emit as she reaches out for it, trying to wrap her fingers around it, but only tapping it with them instead, and the snitch begins to descend again at a very steep angle. Noémie follows, however precariously diving as she has practiced so hard. The improvement is apparent, though she is still not all that great at it.

The situation among the Hufflepuff Chasers remains the same: Carrie is still in possession of the Quaffle, and the same bludger is still chasing after Albert. “It’s like that thing has it in for me!” Albert mutters, as he glances apprehensively behind him at the bludger, searching for his team’s Beaters. And then Bailey closes in on his other side, and Albert is caught weaving back and forth, frantically trying to avoid colliding with the bludger on one side and the Ravenclaw Chaser on the other. Carrie attempts to evade with a sharp curve that sends her into a sideways loop, holding on precariously with one hand while still trying to maintain her grasp on the Quaffle.

Charlie Linwood gives out a strangled yell as the bludger moves toward Alex, “This is why I was watching her!” He shoots off to intercept, while being mindful of not getting in the way. Difficult buisness this, as Charlie circles round behind them (sharp! thanks to a lot of practice at it) and manages, barely, to hit the bludger straight diagonally down the other way–more toward the ground than any particular group of people. His face is pale again, but furious.

Alexandra Leong‘s heart almost stops when Noémie grabs at the snitch and makes contact. Luckily, it’s not over yet, and as Noémie pulls into a steep dive Alexandra follows effortlessly. The dive ends only several feet from the ground. The Snitch flattens out it’s trajectory suddenly, and the Hufflepuff Seeker pulls up to follow. The trio – Noémie, Alex, and the snitch – continue straight at breakneck speeds, with neither Seeker within reach, until the snitch makes a sudden left turn. Alexandra pulls left hard, but her arm throbs, and her turn isn’t as sharp as it needed to be. She starts to lose speed as pain shoots up her arm.

Rhian says, “The Snitch flies high into the sky, the girls now neck and neck as they case after it. Ribouet seems to almost have it… but no, it dives to the ground, the two Seekers going after it. It seems one of the Bludgers likes Bryce as it continues to chase him around and away from Whittier who still goes for Douglass and a goal. However, Bryce comes back around and causes Whittier to go into a loop, trying to desperately hang onto the Quaffle. Bludgers flight back toward the Seekers once more though Linwood manages to protect them once more. A hard turn by the Snitch causes Leong to lose ground once more as it seems her arm is bothering her again.”

The flight to the groun causes Noémie to go breathless and she is perhaps just a bit slower than Alex in pulling out of it, and it takes several feet before she has managed to right herself and even up with the Hufflpeuff chaser. As the snitch turns left, Noémie follows suit, turning as hard as she can manage and thrusting her arm out, closing her fingers around the tiny ball with a shout of victory. She had managed to catch the snitch! Ravenclaw wins! She flies down to the center of the pitch and holds up the snitch, her face joyful, and are those tears on the Ravenclaw seeker’s face as she laughs for joy, thrusting her fist into the air again and again jubilantly. “We did it!” She shouts.

Eldric Carver is having a hard time keeping up with the bludger and the Hufflepuff Chasers, given that he had to completely change course to do so. Finally, he joins the fray, grip on his bat so tight his that the whitness in his knuckles seems to spread, he slams into the bludger full force, sending it arcing skyward, as much toward the Seeker-Snitch train as he can from here, hoping Alex will dodge and–there is a very, very loud string of curses here, as the vomit-and-hex covered Beater deflates, quite literally sinking down at a slow, defeated pace.

Rhian says, “Ribouet is still on the Snitch though and manages to catch the Snitch! Ravenclaw wins the match and the Cup! Final score is Ravenclaw – 160, Hufflepuff, 0. A marvelous game by both teams indeed with an excellent chase provided by our Seekers. A wonderful end to a wonderful season for Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff did a wonderful job as well. That is it for Quidditch this year, the next match not starting until November of this year. Well, I am Rhian Brecon of Ravenclaw and I’m signing off for the last time this year. Good luck with your end of term exams everyone.”

Alexandra Leong sinks dejectedly to the ground (luckily not too far up), holding her left arm with her right hand, and grimacing. She is clearly in pain – not surprising, as there is a rather large slither embedded in the poor arm. Tears are falling down her cheeks. She nearly falls off her broom as physical and emotional exhaustion catches up with her.

“Bloody — ” Tegan calls, pulling out of the chase she has been in, she makes her way down to the groun. “Bloody brilliant!” she calls gleefully and throws her arms around Noémie. “Champions!” Her voice rings out loud and echoes as she laughs with Noémie, her joy having overcome her previously serious attitude. “We did it!” The Ravenclaw bleachers seem to have erupted with incredibule noise at this and the girl is hopping up and down with sheer energy, though lord knows how she could have any left.

Keelan Walsh is watching, and has been, and several times she’s had the whistle up and had to drop it at the last moment. Now, however, as the Ravenclaw Seeker closes her hand around the snitch and announces the win, Keelan blows-hard-on the whistle and then, without looking much, zips down to the box. Amid the celebrating Ravenclaws (and the noise from the stands ringing in her ears), she shoves out her open hand. “Snitch please.” Pause, “So I can put it away.” From accross the pitch, some students, jubilant, carry the silver Quidditch cup. A very terse “Congratulations.” is all Keelan has besides a demand for things to be cleaned up. Poor Ravenclaws, a lot of them will have to go to Herbology this week.

Clavicle Gravely almost falls off the broom! “We won? WE WON! ALRIGHT! Great catch Noémie!” He does a prouette in the sky, a spin on the broom and zips off towards the ground where he will try to lift noémie up in a victory dance!

The fight goes out of the bludger – and out of Albert and Carrie, too, as the thunderous cheer erupts from the Ravenclaw bleachers. With one last look at each other, their energy fading swiftly into disappointment, the Chasers drift down to the ground, starting to cluster towards Alexandra and the fallen Marybeth.

Was that…? No, it couldn’t…or really? Noémie has caught the snitch and Ravenclaw has won the cup. It’s like a huge stone falling from Bailey‘s head and a wave of joy filling him up. “We won it! Wooohoooo!” he shouts, raising his fist and cheering wholeheartedly. Bailey performs a huge turn over the Ravenclaw bleachers and then lands on the pitch. He runs towards his teammates and helps Clavicle to lift up Noémie to celebrate their captain.

Looking quite green Marybeth stares up at Clavicle as if willing him to fall off of his broom when the game is won. “Well…” she croaks out rubbing her stomach. “Im still splitting up my bag of marbles so the joke is on you Ravenclaw.” Yes even with possibly broken ribs, a defunct stomach and scars of ravenclaw flirtation Marybeth is still a joker.

“Bravo!” Van calls as she has finally made her way to the ground, coming in to hug her captain and the other female beater. “Good on everyone!” she says, the tears that have been threatening to fall finally coming streaming down her face. “What a way to go out!” she comments, but her comments are drowned by the noise on the pitch as she celebrates with her teammates excitedly.

For the briefest of moments, Eliza‘s face crumples, her eyes closing against the sight and sound of the other team’s victory. But she opens them again, and swallows hard, and brings her broom down to earth in a smooth, controlled arc. Eliza steps lightly off of it, runs a hand backwards through her dark hair, and begins to stride, shoulders straight and posture upright, towards the center of the pitch for the closing handshake.

Charlie Linwood bites his lip and lets himself go limp. It was over. They hadn’t won, but they put up a good fight. Not typical behavior, this time when he flies down to the pitch he stays with the team, giving Alex a–well it’s almost kind look. “Want to go to the nurse, Leong?” That’s about as many words as he’s said to her in a row for a long time. Eliza, he doesn’t look at. Actually he’s mostly muttering things to his chest rather than looking up at people’s eyes or anything.

“Oh, right, sorry Professor,” Noémie tells Keelan and wipes her eyes from their tears as she hands over the snitch to the referee, detatching herself from her excited teammates. “No, no, guys,” she tells the boys who seem to be bent on picking her up in celebration, and she strides over to Eliza, putting her hand out much more cheerfully. The girl’s face cannot hide her obvious joy at being the winners of the match. “Well matched,” she tells Eliza with a mighty grin. Looking to the stands, there appears to be a Ravenclaw fifth year who looks to be trying to garner her attention, and she waves excitedly. “I’ll see you all in the commonroom later, there’s sure to be a party!” she tells her team and trots off, looking at the stands, where the boy has disappeared, and makes her way off the pitch very quickly, broom still in hand.

Clavicle Gravely then does something differen’t After hopping around with the team, he crosses the field to the hufflebuff side and offers first, Charlie a hand. “Good show.” he says stoically.

Keelan Walsh closes her hand on the snitch and turns to put it in the box. The bludgers have moved in and are strapped down, still somewhat wiggly from getting used. With a click, all balls in need of restraint are returned, and now the Quaffle is placed in as well. Noémie runs off without the cup and so it is presented to the rest of the team, though it seems that as Keeper and oldest, it is shoved closer to Van. Keelan, for her part, moves away from the students (especially as those in the stands trickle down) and out.

“Good match,” Eliza replies, with a firm nod and a sincere tone, giving Noémie’s hand a strong shake, with a true, honest smile that even lingers for a moment after the handshake has finished. And then Eliza is off towards the edge of the pitch, reaching Alexandra’s side in a few long, swift strides. “Come on,” she says softly, stretching her hand down to touch Alexandra’s shoulder gently. “Let’s get you up to the nurse.”

Alexandra Leongshakes her head at Charlie, although her arm is turning an interesting shade of purple. She is trying very hard not to burst into tears, but her efforts are less than successful. In a few seconds, she completely loses control and flings herself into Charlie, sobbing into his shoulder.

Does Charlie look like a crying post? Still, he’s in such a subdued mood that he merely pats her back a bit awkwardly and lets her cry. “It’s okay, it isn’t your fault the Snitch went under there. You’d've had it otherwise, really.” Clavicle’s offer of a handshake is just stared at–he does, after all, have a girl sobbing on him. He still won’t look at Eliza, and probably won’t for at least a week or so after this.

Clavicle Gravely lets his hand drop awkwardly. “Right then.” he nods and looks to the other Hufflepuffs, “Good match.” but feeling more awkward then anything he heads back to his side’s locker room.

There is no anger in Eliza‘s expression as she looks down at her teammates – just sympathy, and a little of her own sorrow. “Come on,” she says again, still softly, with a gentle but strong tug at Alexandra’s shoulder, transferring the weeping girl from poor bewildered Charlie to herself. “Let’s go.” Eliza swallows hard, and starts to walk her sobbing Seeker off the field.

Looking rather nervous and fidgety, which is not usually her style, Briony stands by the lake, her parchment discarded, and her book hanging in her arm limply. It doesn’t appear she has done much studying, as the girl is pacing back and forth and has managed to wear a muddy line where she has been doing so for a little while. Her mind seems to be racing as she finally takes a seat on the grass, away from where she has been pacing and drops the book carelessly to the ground. She hugs her knees, looking out at the water, with almost a glare on her face.

Albert Bryce doesn’t quite trot, but he’s hardly meandering as he makes his way down towards the lake. If possible, spotting Briony makes him increase his pace still more, nearing the point where he looks pretty ridiculous. “Hiya, Briony!” Al calls over, grinning as he slows to a more normal speed. He waves the piece of parchment and grins even more. “I got your note.” Obviously! “Hey, you all right?” he asks once he’s about a pace away. The boy drops slowly to a crouch and peers out over the lake as well. Maybe there was someone there. “Um… I’d love to go to the dance with you,” he states quite simply, diving into the heart of the matter.

“Oh, I’m fi– Oh, Al– Really? You will?” The girl giggles happily, and in a burst of happy energy, throws her arms out in an attempt to hug him. The girl realizes quickly what she’s doing, though, and withdraws just as quickly. “Sorry about that. So you’re really going to go with me?” Briony is over the moon at this, as the girl has a small, but harmless, crush on the older boy. “My mum said to tell whoever I asked that I’m going to be wearing blue, so I guess I should tell you.” A pause. “I’ll be wearing blue to the social,” she tells him in the most grown-up manner she can muster. “Goodness, I’m so happy you said yes! We’ll have the best time of anyone!”

Albert Bryce laughs good-naturedly and takes a seat as well. “Blue! Good, that’s easy to match. Or so I’ve heard.” He takes a moment to tuck the parchment into the front pocket of his knapsack, then leans back on his hands. “Yeah! I love to dance, do you? Figured I’d end up going by myself or something. This is much better!” he exclaims, smiling wide. His voice only caught a tiny bit that time, as it sometimes does. That time of… life.

“Gabriel said I might as well ask him straight away, since he figured I was going to, and well, I showed him, didn’t I?” Briony is beaming at this addition to the story and smiles at Albert, who seems to be much taller than the girl remembers him being yesterday. Of course, this could be the fact that she has never been quite so close to him before, only admired him from a distance. As she registers his comment about dancing, the girl pauses. “Uh oh. I’ve never danced before. I suppose I’ll have to have mum teach me. Hmm. Did you have lessons, or did you just know how?”

“Oh, will he be upset?” Albert asks, mildly concerned. Not that he’s backing out, but such things are good to know. Oh good, dancing. Safer subject. “Oh! Don’t worry about it too much. It’s a good thing to know. A fun thing, certainly, but…” he trails off, waving a hand slightly as he tries to explain and fails. “Oh, well. I did take lessons, actually. Up until my first year. My sisters took it, you see,” he feels the need to explain, “so I… trailed along.” And hated every minute of it, obviously. He laughs suddenly. “It’s a shame I didn’t understand then how great it was being the only boy in a dance class.” He goes back to leaning on his hands. “You’re a second year this year, right?”

“Oh, probably not. At least, if somebody asks him, he won’t be. Besides, he’s just Gabriel, I couldn’t ask him. That’s gross.” Oh, how Briony will come to eat those words in later years. The girl does not know this now, as she is only twelve and rather smitten with the fourteen-year-old beside her. “Yes, I’m a second year. Isn’t it great?” The girl seems far more excited about this change than is probably absolutely necessary. “I wish my mum and dad had made me learn to dance. I have to learn. Oh, no!” It sounds as if tragedy has suddenly struck the girl. “I’ve got to go start my detention with mum soon! I’m sorry, Albert, I’d better go.” She begins packing up her things quickly. “I’ll talk to you soon! Promise!” The girl is running as fast as she can back to the castle, for who wants to be late to a detention with one’s own mother?

Eva Fallon seems run off her feet already. It’s the morning before the sorting, the shop, though now pristine, has been a riot. Her children are now downstairs with her, and other people’s children are still trickling in and out of the shop, purchasing some last-minute sweets. The shop does seem eerily neat for a day like today, though Eva‘s cousin may have had some help at keeping it so. “I’m glad sorting at Hogwarts is only once a year, Maura,” Eva emits with a sigh and plops onto a stool behind the counter, rocking Arnold’s cribby with her foot.

Outside, Diagon Alley is abuzz with shoppers making last-minute purchases – and Sibyl Wexler seems to have enough energy to match them all put together. With one hand firmly wrapped around her husband’s arm and the other clutching her daughter, the Hogwarts nurse bustles through the door of the candy shop at top speed. “Just a few, Briony,” she admonishes. “Enough for the train ride, and no more – you don’t want to spoil your appetite for the feast!” Sibyl‘s face, already naturally ruddy, is even redder than usual with the remnants of a sunburn – the last souvenir of a late-summer holiday. That, and the conspiratorial smile that she shoots at her husband, and the way she keeps affectionately close to his side, even amid the chaos of back-to-school shopping.

“Maybe not even quite that much, Briony. Don’t make your brother and sister jealous.” Basil pauses a moment in thought. “Actually, it’s your job to get some for both of them now.” He smiles down affectionately at Sibyl, a touch of sadness in his eyes. He realized over the summer just how much he had missed his wife, and now she was headed back to Hogwarts for another year. “Can’t we just forget when the train leaves, Sibyl?” he asks slyly, a smile just barely touching his lips.

Andy Carver shuffles into Cordial Confections through the crowd, leaving his parents outside, to get his required stock of sweets for the travel and his first days in Hogwarts. He tries to fight his way to the showcase to ponder what sweets to purchase. As he does not get a glimpse on one single piece of candy he tries to slip between to adults which obviously seem to be Briony’s parents.

A small whirlwind dressed in an emerald robe breezes into the candy store. Kara finally slows some when she realizes just how crowded it was inside. Purse in one hand, purring silver kitten in the other, the new Hogwarts student heads straight for the chocolate frog display. Those collected she meanders around the store, adding iced mice and acid pops to her growing collection.

“Alright, mum,” Briony responds to her mother, hardly hearing her father’s addition. Something about her siblings. Briony‘s off waving frantically at her aunt. “Auntie Eva! I’m a second year now! I’m going to try out for Quidditch, too. Mum and Dad let me get a broom! Isn’t it exciting!” With that, Briony snatches a bag off of the counter where Eva keeps them, and starts gathering the sweets that she wants for the trip.

Feeling like he’ll never be free of his chattering sisters from now on, Gabriel walks, both hands on his head, clasping chunks of hair as the twins trail him. What if they were sorted into his house? He’d have to listen to this for his remaining years at Hogwarts! Although… it would be good to have some family nearby, after what news their mother has recently told him. Gabe’s not been out much since that awful day. “Alright, we’re here. We don’t have a lot of time so try to be quick about it.” Opening the door with a sigh, Gabriel puts on a brave face in case Briony is inside.

It’s been a long final day before Hogwarts for the young Saphia Bona. Yes, her mother had finally given her blessing to Saphia‘s magical education, but had, in response, demanded an ever greater amount of her free time to be spent with family and what she dubbed the ‘real world’. As such, much of the shopping that had been spread out over weeks for her first year had been spent in a day this time — AND she no longer got preferential treatment at Flourish and Blotts anymore now that Ms. Rosemont had quit. While Ms. Rosemont had assured Saphia this was all for the best, and she was happier quitting, Saphia knew in her heart it wasn’t true. How could Ms. Rosemont ever be happier away from books? And so, loaded with new equipment and books (twenty-three new books, to be precise) Saphia had broken away from her father for a final diversion in pursuit of treats for the train, a relaxing pause, and that elusive Roderick Plumpton card!

Yawning and rubbing his eyes Chris walks into the store, the usual site of his small black kitten following closely behind him, looking tired as well. He smiles as the scent of the candy reaches his nose, he looks down at his kitten, “Maybe some sugar will wake us up, Magik.” The kitten gives a small happy mew in response.

Olivia Baxtor strolls in, looking around the busy shop, her face looking rather pensive. “Come now, Olivia, go in,” her mother beckons, and Olivia has little other choice than to make her way all the way into the busy shop. Her brother Christian, a sixth year, follows her, pushing past to get to the sweets, and her sisters Gertrude and Helen, both third years, come after him, sneaking past Olivia to get some sweets for themselves. “Get some things, but quickly, children, we’ve got to go to the train soon!” Olivia starts into the shop and glances at all of the candies, picking a piece here and there. To tell the truth, the girl is not all that fond of sweets.

Kassandra never really was addicted to sweets, but as she did not trust the Hogwarts Express food cart, she decided to get a small amount of energy supply at the sweets shop. Losing her gracious posture for a moment at the sight of another crowded place she crosses the room towards the counter, where the denseness is at its maximum and pushes a small piece of parchment out of her right robe pocket, not to forget a single piece of her shopping’s previously selected composition.

“We most certainly can not just forget what time the train leaves!” Sibyl Wexler retorts to her husband, giving him a reproachful nudge in the side with her elbow. But her tone is softened by a grin, and a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Only one bag, Briony-love!” Sibyl calls after her eldest daughter, as Briony skips off to the other side of the shop. “Eva! Good to see you! How are you feeling, dear?” There are too many people between Sibyl and the shopkeeper for her to do much more than wave – and give her husband another nudge, prompting him to do the same. The door jingles open again behind her – spotting Gabriel among the cluster of children entering, Sibyl turns to look over her shoulder, stretching her hand out towards her daughter’s friend. “Gabriel dear, over here!” She switches effortlessly back and forth between each of the people she is addressing, giving each an equal share of her warm, comfortable smile.

“Don’t take too long kids, the train leaves in a while! You don’t want to miss it!” Eva smiles all around as the children all seem to understand this as they rush around gathering sweets. Eva prepares herself for a rush. “Hello, Basil, Sibyl,” Eva calls to her relations, nodding as Briony chatters at her then quickly runs off. “Avery, hello! Hi, Gabriel, girls.” So many people to say hello to! “I’m feeling wonderful, Sibyl, thanks for asking! It seems to me you must be feeling fine. Look at that suntan!” Eva giggles a bit and leans against the counter, surveying the commotion in her shop.

Hearing her friend’s name, Briony‘s head pops up out of the crowd, so to speak, as she tries to find the boy. “Gabriel, where are you? Isn’t it exciting! We’re going back to school! Mum and dad bought me a broom!” Briony giggles gleefully as she pushes her way through the hoardes of children trying to find the one she know. “Hi, Gabriel. Ready for school this year? You get to play Quidditch, right?” Briony smiles widely at him.

Finally Andy reaches the immense sweets counter and sees Briony doing the same. “Hello Briony, did you have nice holidays?” he nearly has to shout because of the distance between them, while he is selecting his sweets and putting them into his already well-filled paperbag, looking to her from time to time.

Saphia Bona smiles as her tiny scops owl, Mina, flutters to her shoulder and nuzzles against Saphia‘s face happily as she wanders the store, picking up a packet of sugar quills, a packet of fizzing whizzbees, five ice mice, and, of course, an entire box of chocolate frogs. Sidling up to the counter, Saphia offers her best smile for Eva and whispers, “Good morning, Ms. Fallon!”

Kara Raine continues wandering around the shop, the ever growning pile of sweets becoming more difficult to manage. A few of the other new students are recognized from the other day, and Kara heads toward Chris with a grin. “Chris! Hi, I met you the other day in here, Kara remember? How are you and Magik? I did end up getting a kitten after all, this here is Silver.” The gray ball of fur opens her eyes at the name and meows happily. “Anyway, just wanted to say hi, grabbing some last minute things for the train you know. Hopefully I’ll see you there?”

The shop is so loud that Olivia almost can’t handle the commotion. She takes a few select types of candy and joins her family at the counter. “This is all I’m having, thank you,” the girl states politely, placing her selections up onto the counter to be bagged. As soon as the sweets are paid for, Olivia‘s mother is hustling the four Baxtor children out the door to get to the train in enough time. It seems as soon as she’s entered the shop, Olivia is pushed back out of it, protesting rather loudly that they’ll wrinkle her new skirt, but the family’s voices fade as they head towards the train station.

Glancing up from her gaze out the window, Olivia offers a half-smile. “Hello.” She pauses a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I’m a fourth year this year,” she finally adds, not thinking to add her name. The girl tucks her ankles underneath her gently, leaning on an armrest in a rather lady-like fashion. Her demeanor is not one of coldness, but more of reserve, as if she isn’t sure just how to behave.

Carrying her things with her Rawnie peeks in to the very last compartment and smiles. “Hello…. this place taken?” She walks in setting her things down before waiting for an answer. “My name is Rawnie. This is my first year and everythin….”

Kassandra swiftly gets inbetween the crowd, which is besieging the sweets counter. She shovels a few Liquorice Wands and Chocoballs into her bag, heads for the cash, pays and leaves the store.

Aisling O‘Cormac stumbles clumsily through the door of the compartment, blushing at the older girl’s demurity. “Um, hello.” She offers back. “My name is Aisling O‘Cormac… This will be my first year at Hogwarts, though my brothers have told me wonderful things about it.” Having, she feels, pretty much made a fool of herself, Aisling tugs on one of her two plaits nervously. “I don’t suppose you’d mind me sharing this compartment with you?”

Rawnie Weller takes a seat near the windo looking out at the spot where her mother had stood. It had been the longest time Rawnie has spent with her mother since she was born. Looking over at the new arival Rawnie waves quietly letting the older girl answer.

Albert Bryce pokes his head in from the corridor. “Room for another?” he asks, smiling broadly, his voice brisk, heavy with the London accent. He’s dragging an animal carrier, a broom and a knapsack, blocking the corridor for a couple older students wishing to go by. “Just a minute,” he says to them, unperturbed.

Kassandra Verkooyen swiftly opens the compartment’s dook and heaves her suitcase into the baggage net above the seats. “Kassandra Verkooyen.” she announces, addressing everyone in the compartment. “Likewise, is going to be my first year in Hogwarts. I’m so excited about it. What about you? I cannot wait until the first lesson begins.” She looks around to estimate the others in the compartment.

“Yeah Im excited…. I can’t wait to cut up some frogs!” Rawnie smiles and takes out her potions book opening it to the infamous frog guts page which has a moving illustration on the proper way to gut a frog. “Innit that disgustin?”

As the compartment fills, Olivia readjusts how she is seated to fit many people. Part of her is slightly disappointed that she is surrounded by first years, but as Albert pokes his head in, she is slightly relieved. Someone she knows, “Hello, Albert,” she says calmly. “Good summer?” The girl’s demeanor seems unchanging, though uncertain, and she doesn’t move from her spot save to keep her feet on the floor.

Angelo Grey takes a peek inside to see who’s in the compartment, but seeing it’s already full of people, he decides to leave. No need to pack everyone, there’s plenty of room in other compartments. “Excuse me.”

Aisling O‘Cormac places her luggage in the convenient overhead racks as she begins to survey her new domain. Though the compartment had few people when she entered, it appears to have quickly filled up. “Am I wrong,” she asks, “or are most of us first years?”

Albert Bryce moves in, to the relief of the upper years, and flashes Olivia another smile, a little crooked this time. “Wicked good. Yours?” he asks, reaching up place everything but the animal carrier in the space above. And for a change this year, he doesn’t have to struggle much to reach it. No standing on the seats. The growth spurt finds its purpose! “Hello, all,” he adds to the others as he falls into seat. “First years?” he adds, glancing at his House mate, though the kids seem to be answering that for themselves. “They might not use frogs this year,” he replies to Rawnie. “You never know.”

Rawnie Weller frowns at the prospect of not getting to cut up a dead frog. “Oh but thats false advertisement! This book implys that were going to use frog guts in potions!” Says the dissapointed redhead. Rawnie stares at the picture a bit longer with a smile.

Kassandra Verkooyen wrinkles her nose at the sight of the opened frog. “Ugh, put that away, I don’t want to become sick before we left even left the train station. But, yes, as I have stated before, I am a first year.” replying to Aisling. “What house do you two belong to, if I may ask?” Kassandra questions the fourth years.

Aisling O‘Cormac shakes her head. “I don’t see,” she says to Rawnie, “why you think cutting up a dead frog would be so exciting. They’re somewhat boring, really, just guts and muck. By the way, what was your name again? I don’t think I got it.” The talkative first year stops briefly for breath, then looks towards the older students. “Are you two in the same house? Or even year?”

How should Olivia answer? Tolerable? Rather irritating? Miserable? Perhaps those are exaggerations. “Good,” she answers simply and gives Albert a half smile. “I’m looking forward to this term.” She thinks she is. “Hopefully I’ll be able to get good marks this year.” This is the extent of Olivia‘s forwardness and she mostly sits back and watches the younger students in the cabin enthuse about what the year will be like. The girl remembers her first year, but not the excitement that came with it.

Rawnie Weller grins watching Kass’s face wrinkle up. “Oie whats wrong? Its just frog guts…” The girl brings the book a bit closer to Kass grinning sadeisticly. “I bet you just can’t wait ter touch some huh? They look a bit like green scrambled eggs don’t they?” One might get the feeling that Rawnie does this sort of thing all the time.

Albert Bryce chuckles softly at Weller’s disappointment, but he just shakes his head slightly and leans back, arms crossing over the top of the carrier, from which a disgruntled ‘mew’ can be heard. “Fourth years, Hufflepuff,” he answers Kassandra and Aisling cheerfully. “Best House in the castle.” Olivia gets a quick glance. “Good is… good.” Uh huh. “And at least we don’t have O.W.L.s to worry about yet.”

Dolly Faeden wiggles her way into the compartment and finds a place to hoist her overlarge trunk. The girl is devoid of any kind of pet, but doesn’t seem to notice. Her wand pokes up from the pocket of the trousers she’s got on under a somewhat more feminine, but decidedly overlarge blouse, and finally looks around for a chair.

“You’re right about OWLs. I hear they’re dreadfully hard.” The girl bites her lip anxiously in remembrance of the future ominous tests. “Have you heard how they are? My brother took them last year, but he always exaggerates things. He tried to say he nearly died.” Olivia sighs a bit and hugs her waist, leaning a bit farther back in her seat. “Do you know how they are?”

Aisling O‘Cormac looks out the window and sighs. “The countryside looks much as it does back home, clean and bright… I don’t know how people can even stand to live in a city like London, so big and grimy..” Turning to the older students, she continues, “Hogwarts isn’t anything like that, is it? I don’t think I could stand it if it was.”

Lyre King finally finds a place to settle. Without his mother roughly shoving him around, and telling him where to sit and who to talk to, he had stood in the corridor until the train left. He pokes his head into the compartment for a moment and blurts out “Can I sit in here? The only other compartment with unsorted students has an Ogre in it.”

“Was he clumsy?” Albert asks Olivia, his hazel eyes glittering as he grins. “I don’t know. Seren came away with nine when she took them, and it’s not like she’s a brilliant Ravenclaw or something. Though… she studies a lot.” Here, Al nearly looks glum. Almost. “Passed her N.E.W.T.s, too. But… I guess if you pay attention and… you know. Read a lot.” He just might turn green soon. Oh, a distraction. “Only parts of Lond… well. Much of it might be grimy,” he says to Aisling, “but it has its charms. Mostly by magic, but the royal family doesn’t need to know that, do they?” He then blinks at Lyre, once, stares, then states, “No ogres in here.”

Dolly Faeden looks up at the sound of Lyre’s voice and her eyebrows raise fairly far. “Oh! Yer’e the boy with the short wand!” She pulls hers out and brandishes it, a long, whippy thing made of holly, smiling in a friendly manner. “See? It’s longer.” There’s a waving of it and an incidental shooting of sparks, which harmlessly dissolve against the cieling. “Works well, too.” A look around and she asks in a general way, “What about everyone else’s? I’m trying to figure out how the length of a wand corrolates-” she pronounces this word slowly and importantly, as if it is new to her,”to the owner. I’m tallish, you see, and he’s kind of short, so…”

Kassandra chuckles. “An Ogre? What has he done to you?” and to Dolly “Well, I do not think that the length of a wizard or witch is actually related to his or her wand length.” Kassandra sits back, reveales a paper bag which contains two kinds of sweets and starts munching on a Licorice wand. “Help yourself, I’m getting quite annoyed of those sweets.” she announces.

Aisling O‘Cormac turns to face Lyre and blinks. “An ogre? What? How? That’s somewhat… not comforting… By the by, my name is Aisling. Aisling O‘Cormac. Yours?” Having, in short order, attacked the points that most interested her, Aisling sets down to twirling one of her plaits with her index finger, mulling things over and observing her companions. Looking at a wall, she comments, “I don’t think that height has anything to do with wand length…”

“An Ogre? You mean a real one? On the train?” Rawnie seems more than a tad skepticle and closes her potions book. “That’d be pretty neat though…. I should like to see one once.”

“I don’t know. He told me that the sorting hat would try to eat my head if I wasn’t careful.” The girl sighs and shrugs. “Obviously I realized that wasn’t the case, but it was rather frightening beforehand. He never tells me how things are for real. He’s so mean.” Olivia looks rather cross at this, raising her eyebrows at the discussion of Ogres. “What a frightening idea,” the Hufflepuff expresses, seeming to think it a generally horrific idea.

Lyre fumes for a bit. “I am not short! I’m taller than all the boys my age in my grandfathers estate in india. And I swear, there is a towering beast in compartment four! It has a crooked nose, and cuts and bruises all over his face, and it’s ears are thick, and it’s dressed all in black!”

Kassandra says, “Oh yes, an get your head split, I suppose.” %n tells Rawnie and then asks the older students. “What will the Sorting be like? I only heard about a Talking hat and vague stories. Can you tell me?”"

“Probably just an old Slytherin,” Albert offers, grinning at Lyre. The rest, he lets fly over his head like so much conversation until he blinks at Kassandra. “Well, the hat doesn’t eat your head, obviously. It just… picks your brain.” Ah heh. “Painless, but sometimes embarrassing.

“I wouldn’t get my head split….. Id use you like a sheild you ninny.” Rawnie spits at Kassandra. Honestly who did she think she was stateing her honest opnion like that. “Anyway Im sure I could hide from an Ogre.”

Aisling O‘Cormac, being a first year, is, of course, also interested in the phenomenon of the sorting ceremony. Turning towards the older students, she asks, “Has anyone ever been, I don’t know, turned away? That is, not sorted?”

Dolly Faeden frowns a little bit, “Well, tha’s all well an’ good except you haven’t shown me yeir wands so how canni tell for sure?” She crosses her arms, somewhat upset that her research oppurtunity is going by the wayside in favor of Ogre stories. A moment later, however, she’s turned to face the others better. “A hat? M’da tol’ me it was a dragon.” She looks rather let down. “How’s a hat s’posed to tell us anything?”

Riley Markham hardly glances at the card before moving to hand it back to Kitty, giving a great, heaving sigh of mixxed worry and disgust. “Aye, fine. S’my Gran. She an’ I.. well,” he sighs, all that worry and fear he’d been holding up raging back to the surface. “She worried me, today.. something she said. Can’t figure it out.. Eh,” Riley looks up, as the train stops.. “We’re ‘ere, eh.” And he rises, non-challantly, to pull down and carry he and Saphia’s things off the train.

“Your gran is on a Wizard Card?” Katherine stares at Riley in a mixture of sympathy and awe

Keelan Walsh is standing on the platform looking, as she is, quite tall and a bit odd, given the shadows cast upon her from the lamp she’s carrying. “First years!” calls the Herbology professor, “If all first years could please come over here, I’ll be taking you to the Castle.” The woman smirks a little, but is really quite busy calling for the students. “First years!!”

Lyre King cowers next to his bags. “There, there he is! The ogre!” He points over at a large boy carrying a rucksack, who is boarding a carriage.

“Wow, Riley, your grandma’s on a card?” David is amazed at the news, too.

Marie-Anna Greyton watches as all the first years move to follow Keelan, meanwhile she moves towards the carriages. The sixth year quietly awaits for the younger students to board the carriages before she too boards one.

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce settles in next to Olivia and grins. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks in his overly cheerful sort of way.

“Yeah,” Riley mutters, not bothering to ask if Saphia would like him to carry her luggage, stepping behind her and picking up for her after she’s dragged it a way. Hauling heavy things was something he was actually fairly good at. He seems more than slightly annoyed, though more at his own reaction than the question.. “Yeah, she was a famous curse-breaker, did some ivestment things for Gringotts, helped a lot of rich people get richer. But she said somethin to me today..” He drops the luggage off in the entry wing, following the rest in to the great hall.. “Something odd.. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it worries the stuffing outta me..” And then, as he steps in to the great hall.. he looks up, across the room to the faculty table. “Oh, sweet Jesus.. I’m in hell..”

(Hufflepuff) Eliza Marlowe folds her lanky frame into a spot at the Hufflepuff table, sitting sideways on the bench to let her long legs stretch out into the aisle. She raises a hand to give a cheerful, easy wave to the few housemates she has missed on the train. “Hey, Linwood!” she calls to one of her teammates. “Get in any good practice this summer?”

(Hufflepuff) “Oh, Quidditch…” Olivia laments softly as she thinks of her horrible experiences with everything relating to the sport. Olivia doesn’t like to get messy, anyway. The quiet girl glances around the table as her housemates all gather. Every year it always seemed so different to sit at it, especially with the new point of view of being a year older. She tries to smile in a friendly way at those around her, but finds it difficult, as she barely knows them, even though she’s been at school with many of them for three years already.

(Hufflepuff) Katherine Nichols plunks down at the end of the table, near Alexandra and a few other third-years. As she turns to survey the room, something catches her eye at the head table, and Katherine‘s round, cheerful face suddenly drops into an astonished gasp. She rummages through the pockets of her robe, scattering a few quills – real and sugar – and some foil Chocolate Frog wrappers before she comes up with what she was seeking: a Wizard Card. She stares at it, then at the head table, then back. “Oh my goodness,” she gasps. “The new Headmistress. It’s Riley’s gran!”

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce leans against the table and peers at Katherine. “Who is?” he asks, as he hasn’t bothered to even glance at the head table just yet.

(Hufflepuff) “Her!” Katherine nods urgently at Melvina Prichard, her voice hushed to a whisper, as if the new Headmistress could hear her all the way across the room. “That one! Look” She leans over, passing the card across to Albert. “It’s her!”

(Hufflepuff) Alexandra Leong gasps “Really?” she exclaims, twisting herself around to get a better look, as she was listening with dismay to her Quidditch captain. “Wow… that’s. Different. Well, Professors Sedgewick is still here… AND Professor Isolde?”

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce rudely reaches across the student between Katherine and him and peers at the card, blinks slowly, then frowns at Melvina. “What on earth is she doing in that chair?” he asks stupidly, as if it hadn’t been announced that the previous Headmistress was stepping down.

(Hufflepuff) “I don’t think she looks quite so nice as the last headmistress we had,” Olivia states quietly, glancing at the woman, almost fearfully. “What’s she like, do you know?” Her gaze scans the table, as she sees all the new appointments, wondering just how different her classes will end up being.

(Hufflepuff) “She’s the new Headmistress!” Katherine whispers urgently. She follows the others’ gaze back up to the faculty table, and now that the first shock of recognition is passing, Katherine regards the new Headmistress with rising apprehension. “No, she doesn’t look very nice at all,” she agrees uneasily. “And from what Riley’s said, I think she’s fairly strict. But…you never know. She might turn out all right.” Hope springs eternal, for Katherine.

(Hufflepuff) “Yeah, Professor Morgan’s parents finally died off while she was gone,” Albert supplies as he sits back once more. “But… well. D’you think the new headmistress will make us take those idiotic seminars on tying shoes?”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood is sitting at the table, arms up and folded behind his head, waiting rather impatiently for the first years to arrive. He’s not joining in on any conversation yet, however.

(Hufflepuff) “Albert!” Katherine frowns reproachfully at the older boy’s comments, and reaches across to snatch the card back from him. “I’m glad that Professor Morgan is back!” She drops the card on the table in front of her and reaches into her pocket, fishing out a few more Chocolate Frogs.

(Hufflepuff) Albert shrugs at Katherine and grins. “What? It’s true. And I was just wondering.” Then, feeling confident the faculty issue is taken care of for the time being, he turns toward Eliza, staring a moment too long as he screws up some idiotic burst of courage. “So, uh… Eliz, or, that is, Ms. Marlowe?” he calls over, remembering to tack on a smile. “Are you, uh… I was talking to my sister, and… will there be tryouts this year?” he asks her, sounding hopeful as the smile turns more genuine.

(Hufflepuff) Camdin Tulloche finally chimes in from the second year side of Katherine, “Don’t go so hard on Albert. Those seminars were boooring,” he says with only the best exaggeration. “Besides, you really want to take them on top of a slew of electives?”

(Hufflepuff) “No, it’s not Miss Marlowe,” Eliza calls back with a grin. “Just Eliza.” She angles herself towards Albert, leaning one elbow casually on the long table. “And yes, we’ll be having tryouts. Always room for more good players. Seren said that you’d be interested. Looking forward to seeing what you can do.”

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce actually blushes for a moment before he remembers to acknowledge the information with a, “Thanks, Eliza!” Whew! He sits up a little straighter and just smiles widely at those nearby, looking like a very large idiot.

(Hufflepuff) “They weren’t that bad,” Olivia contributes. “At least they were useful and informative. After all, I imagine there were less… shoe-related injuries… during the year…” Olivia‘s voice trails off as she stops her train of thought before she gets any glares from her housemates. “Anyway, I imagine this Headmistress will find some way to enrich our educations.” Olivia is spewing nonsense, and she knows it, so instead of continuing, the girl falls silent and just gazes over the tableware.

Keelan Walsh strides in, not even having shucked her cloak, and moves quickly to the faculty table. She’s still, in fact, got the lantern she was using to light the way, though that at least has been put out. Despair, oh haters of Herbology (and members of Ravenclaw), Keelan Walsh has not drowned in the lake.

(Hufflepuff) “Well, at least they didn’t make Calwern Headmistress,” Albert replies. “The board isn’t completely made up of idiots. Always encouraging, yes? Though… Rathe is still here, I see.” A glum note enters his voice, though it is quickly erased by the entrance of Professor Walsh. “Oh, thank heavens. We can eat soon.” The stomach is most important tonight.

With students settled at their respective House tables, the doors to the Great Hall let in one, final person. Head of Gryffindor and Charms Professor Erica Calwern enters the Great Hall with the Sorting Hat lightly held in her grasp. She makes her way gracefully between the tables and up to the dias which hosts the faculty tables and a lone, dark oak stool. Tattered, torn, patched, and frayed, the professor still treats the Hat with the utmost respect as she gently places it upon the stool. Turning, she bows to the table, head lowered and right hand sweeping towards the ground. Standing and directing herself to Melvina in particular, she addresses the new Headmistress, “Good evening, Professor Prichard. I believe we are ready to greet our newest residents.”

(Hufflepuff) “Albert!” The reproach is even stronger in Katherine‘s voice, and she puffs up with indignance at his criticism of Professor Calwern. She hastily falls silent, though, when the other professors enter.

Darius Dwight looks over the Ravenclaw table, noting a loud groan coming from their direction at the appearance of Professor Walsh. Many, including one boy in particular, seem utterly disconsolate.

(Hufflepuff) Alexandra Leong makes a sound surprisingly like a grunt. “I don’t know why people don’t like Professor Rathe,” she asserts. “I think she’s great. Really fair.” Alright, so the DADA Professor stood up for her, once or twice. That sort of thing sticks in a girl’s mind, doesn’t it?

(Hufflepuff) Albert, unfortunately, has very little luck with most of the professors and is therefore biased. “At least Walsh didn’t drown this year. I heard some of the Slytherins were going to try to sabotage the boats.” Total hearsay, of course.

(Hufflepuff) Casper Hadley shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be the slytherins that sabotaged her. She likes slytherins. Used to be one.”

Dolly Faeden gasps out loud at the Great Hall and actually stops in her tracks to stare at the ceiling. “I’ve got to learn tae do that!” is her decided proclaimation. She seems not to notice as she’s somewhat left behind by the group that is, of course, still moving.

Angelo Grey enters the great hall and a face of amazement comes from within. He looks up, turns around, several times, as if spinning in the same place, trying to grasp the entirety of this hall. “Wow…” he says, dreamily.

Erica Calwern awaits patiently and with a warm smile next to the Sorting Hat which both stand upon the dias at the front of the room. As many new students filter in from the waiting room, they create a single line upon the dias, forming a living barrier between the faculty and the returning students.

Rawnie Weller stares up at the magical ceiling nearly falling onto her backside made dizzy by the beauty of it. “Blimey!” Is all the little redhead can think to utter before actually taking a small spill forward due to Vertigo, poor girl.

Kara Raine follows the others into the Great Hall, eyes wide. “Oh my, oh my.” Swallowing nerviously, she moves forward falling into line, hands clenching and unclenching the sides of her robes.

Kassandra Verkooyen Kassandra Verkooyen almost floats into the Great Hall, decently looking at the enchanted ceiling, always keeping up with the group of first-years and standing still among the others.

Sara O‘Shay quirks a brow, for all that she may not like Rawnie, she doesn’t want anyone to mess up her sorting. “You alright?” she questions of Miss Weller. “I suppose it can be a little overwhelming.”

Standing on the dais, Aisling can appreciate how many people there are in the hall, and, as such, how many eyes there are upon her. Seeing Rawnie tumble down, she steps over to her and kneels next to her. “Are you alright?” she inquires, hand resting upon her plait like usual.

Chris Jitsunari joins in the awe. He looks up at the enchanted celing and then at all the returning students, not sure how to take it all in. “The books about this place don’t even come close to the actual experience.”

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce shrugs slightly, attention mostly on the firsties now. “S’just what I heard,” he maintains, distractedly.

Rawnie Weller stand up and brushes her robes off. A small glare is given to Sara. “Im arright….. I just got a little dizzy from lookin up too fast s’all….” She didn’t need help from a girl who called her a halfling. Whatever that is. She nods to Aisling too. “Im arright.”

Dolly Faeden scuttles up on the dias with a start, eyes still turned upward. “Aye…” is her breathless response to Chris’s comment.

Sara O‘Shay nods a little before stepping back into the queue, not that she’d stepped out any. “Good,” she states, simply.

Heat O‘Leary glances upward momentarily towards the ceiling before he lowers his gaze, a minor shiver rocking his frame. He looked towards the sorting hat and continued the hurried attempts at fixing his hair, brushing longer pieces behind his ears with his fingers.

Aisling O‘Cormac looks down the line and exclaims, looking at the hat, “Rawnie, Kass, Lyre, it’s the hat that boy was talking about! Maybe this won’t be so bad after all… Although, he did say it tests you, or something… I hope I know the right answers.”

With a flick of her wand towards the Waiting Room doors, Erica has them shut behind the final new student entering the hall. As if on silent cue, she also steps away from the hat, giving herself a distance of a few feet from the worn old thing.

(Hufflepuff) Olivia Baxtor gasps a bit, as she hear the hat what it has done three times in her presence already. The hat is singing! This never ceases to shock and fascinate Olivia.

Angelo Grey smiles in awe as the sorting hat sings his song. Letting out a silent chuckle, he seem exhilirating.

Rawnie Weller claps out loud as the Hat’s song comes to a close. “Brilliant! Blood amazing! That shabby ol hat can sing! Thats even better than movin pictuers with frog guts!” She nearly yells almost too loudley.

Kara Raine giggles, dimples appearing as she smiles. “It sings, nice little tune too. Maybe this won’t be as bad as they said, yes?”

Wincing at the loudness of Rawnie’s comment, Aisling stands quietly in the line awaiting further instructions. “I hope so.” she mutters to Kara.

Lyre King shakes his head. “I’m not so sure. A hat that can sing could probably do other things, too!”

Sara O‘Shay listens quietly to the song, and so she remains quiet as she awaits for the sorting to begin.

Kassandra Verkooyen smiles. “I think he cannot be as bad as they said. He sang a splendid song.”

Dolly Faeden watches the hat in awe. “It is a hat, and it can talk.” Her eyes go wider and wider and then turn toward Professor Calwern, not quite taking in the whole row of faculty in their chairs.

Kassandra Verkooyen smoothes out her robe while there still is time to do it. In a few minutes she will be in front of all these more experienced people and she wants to make a good impression, even with that clumsy old hat on her head.

Erica Calwern brushes a gloved hand over her brow before slipping her wand back up her sleeve. Walking back towards the hat, she summons the scroll from her place at the faculty table. Unfurling it, she announces, “It is about time we begin, I believe. Faeden, Dolly!”

Dolly Faeden looks startled when her name is called, as though she had no sense of alphabet. Almost automatically comes, “It’s Fi-jen, actually.” An offhand comment to Professor Calwern that will likely as not fail to sink in until much later. She steps up, picks up the hat and places it gingerly upon her head, trying to sit at the same time. A near miss, but Dee makes it to the stool. And waits.

Rawnie Weller claps for Dolly smileing brightly. She nearly shreiks out “Did it hurt?!?” Well she really wanted to know.

Dolly Faeden turns about four shades of pink and removes the hat unsteadily. She doesn’t meet Professor Calwern’s eye and instead scurries off toward the… wait, which table is she supposed to scurry toward? There’s a pause and she decides the one with cheering people, Merlin willing, will be correct. Eep, Sorted!

Running a finger down her list, the Charms Professor comments on Dolly’s sorting, “Fitting. Let’s see if she corrects me in class.” Erica regards the next name before announcing, “Grey, Angelo!”

Angelo Grey trembles at the mention of his name. He walks towards the dirty old hat, shivering, but making an effort to maintain his pose. As he paces silently, time seems to stretch to him. It’s taking so long… He looks at all the people gazing at him, controling his nerves. He picks up the hat and puts it on his head.

Angelo Grey steps down shivering, but visibly happy. He aproaches the table, looking for a place to sit, making an effort to stay on his legs.

(Hufflepuff) Olivia Baxtor applauds as a student is sorted into Hufflepuff. “Welcome,” Olivia states mildly, her greeting lost in all the cheering that engulfs the table as the hat announces Hufflepuff as the destination.

Angelo Grey steps down shivering, but visibly happy. He aproaches the Hufflepuff table, looking for a place to sit, making an effort to stay on his legs

First Angelo to Hufflepuff then a spat of Gryffindors who all chitter as they make their way to their new House tables. Then, a Slytherin. Each, called and sorted yet Erica‘s voice never tires or wanes as she announces the next name, “Jitsunari, Chris!” She can’t help but glance over at the Ravenclaw table and one Miss Dolly Faedon as another difficult to pronounce name comes up.

(Hufflepuff) “Grey! Welcome!” Eliza Marlowe, a very tall, lanky seventh-year girl, gives the new student an easy wave and a broad smile.

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce laughs softly and sits up tall to wave to Angelo. “No eating heads, see?” he calls down the table, winking quickly before he settles down into his chair again.

(Hufflepuff) Angelo Greychuckles as he is welcomed to the hufflepuff table. His nervousnes now fading a little, he watches the rest of eh sorting. “Thanks.” He seems very pleased, indeed!

Erica Calwern doublechecks her scroll and mutters, “I will need glasses if the secretary prints these names any smaller.” Louder, she announces to the room, “King, Lyre!”

Lyre King is the sort that has to be reminded to move. When his name is called, someone has to shove him in the shoulder, as he is staring at the cieling. As soon as he is reminded, he breaks into a jog to make up for any time he lost daydreaming. He picks up the hat, sits down, and places it on his head.

Lyre King hops off the stool, drops the hat on it, and goes to sit with his new housemates.

Erica Calwern watches twins get separate with the slice of the Hat’s opinion. The boy heads off to Slytherin, the girl to Gryffindor. The professor doesn’t miss a beat as she calls out, “Raine, Kara!”

Kara Raine looks up at her name, gray eyes wide in surprise. Taking a deep breath, she steps forward just knowing that all eyes are on her, and in a single graceful motion sits upon the stool while placing the hat upon her head. Wincing slightly, she waits for something to happen.

Kara Raine visibly sighs before grinning broadly, quickly hopping down and rushing over to take her place at the Ravenclaw house table.

A Ravenclaw here, a Slytherin there. The Sorting Hat happily does Erica‘s bidding as she dutifully calls off the name of every new student standing before her. “O’Cormac, Aisling!”

Hearing her name being called aloud startles Aisling O‘Cormac, and she glances around slightly nervously before heading to the provided stool. Picking up the hat, she sits, gingerly placing said hat upon her head.

Gasping from the noise the hat made, Aisling staggers upright and heads, beaming, towards her new house’s table.

Angelo Grey claps loudly as he takes a good look at Aisling. “Hi” he offers the first year.

Hufflepuff, always welcoming to each new student, their numbers swelling. Trailing a glove tip down the scroll, Erica‘s eyes scan name after name. A few Ravenclaws are sorted before she calls out, “O’Leary, Heat!”

Heat O‘Leary finally abandons his vain attempts to completely smooth his hair as he approaches the hat, two stray locks sweeping out from their places behind each of his ears. He had given his all, and for the most part it worked–his hair didn’t look too bad, at least it looked intentional now. The boy glances towards Kassandra and lets a grin pass over his lips–she gets to use it after he does, even if there are a few people in between. He carefully takes the hat and settles on the stool as he places it upon his head. Heat‘s eyes pass between all of the tables while he waits for the sorting announcement.

(Hufflepuff) Aisling O‘Cormac waves to her fellow first year. “Hullo.” she mutters to Angelo, as she settles herself down.

Kassandra Verkooyen leans over to Rawnie, nods to Heat and whispers “The boy with the spittle hair…”

Heat O‘Leary steps down after removing the hat, his face sheet white. He shivers noticeably and wraps his arms about himself before making the trek towards the Slytherin table.

Patsy went to Gryffindor, Orville to Hufflepuff. A nice girl Mary found her way to Gryffindor and an even nicer girl named Sally found her way to Slytherin, following right on Heat’s heels. Erica‘s voice remains strong as she calls out the next name, “O’Shay, Sara!”

Sara O‘Shay quietly steps up to the stool as her name is called. Lifting the hat she sets it on her head, all the while sitting on the stool and crossing her legs all primp and properly. This done Sara casts her gaze out to the crowded, already sorted students, her gaze eventually settling upon her siblings.

Sara O‘Shay offers a bit of a grin as the hat announces her house and stands from the stool and returns the hat to it. That done the young Slytherin girl makes her way towards her house table with little haste. As she sits down Sara offers a bit of a nod towards her siblings. There was, of course, no doubt that shed end up in Slytherin house.

“Imagine that,” the professor muses with a smirk, “an O’Shay in Slytherin. Someday you should surprise us, old hat.” Erica looks back to her list, about half way through from the way she holds the scroll in the middle of its length, “Jitsunari, Chris!”

Chris Jitsunari straightens as he hears his name. The hat obviously couldn’t be that bad, seeing as how none of the other students seemed to be in pain. He looks around and laughs nervously before walking up to the stool and taking a seat and placing the hat on his head.

Chris Jitsunari grins widely at hearing the result, Ravenclaw being his choice house from the moment he first read about Hogwarts. He gets down from the stool and walks to the Ravenclaw table proudly, smiling at the other Ravenclaws .

There is one of those uncomfortable silences as Erica walks up the two steps to her space at the table and takes from it a crystal goblet, filled with a ruby-orange liquor. She takes a sip and her voice seems to come to her with renewed strength as she announces the next student’s name, “Ripple, Rebecca!”

Rebecca Ripple gulps anxiously, and steps up to the hat, wondering how anyone could enchant a hat to think, speak, and even sing. She approaches the stool, sits herself down, and takes a deep breath as she feels the Sorting Hat being lowered onto her head. “What now?” she thinks. She is praying now, that the decision made for her today will be a prudent one.

Rebecca Ripple skips down to the bottom of the steps, giggling with delight. She gleefully sits at the Ravenclaw table…

Erica Calwern strikes quite the pose, liquor in one hand, scroll in the other. Another, longer sip is taken from the goblet as she looks over the list. First the mutter to herself, “How did that name get smudged? Hughe? Hank?” Then realizing that the Hat has shipped off Rebecca to the Ravenclaws, she announces, “Turner, Baldwin!”

Baldwin Turner lowers his head as his name is called, admittedly still quite frightened. Advancing slowly towards the hat, his pace slows as the worried boy gets closer and closer, perhaps without him even realising it. Stopping before Professor Calwern, Baldwin parts his curley hair to look at her directly, “Do I…” Gulp. He surveys the crowd. “Need to… do it… Here?” Biting his tongue, Baldwin seems to accept it is inevitable, sitting down and commenacing visible shakeage.

Baldwin Turner gulps, “I-I-is that a… Is that a good thing?” Hopping from the stool, he lowers his head to avoid eye contact and shuffles hastily towards the table, trying not to make a fool of himself any further.

Erica Calwern is holding the scroll by its very end now and feet upon feet dangle on the floor before her. The line of students near her has shorten considerably while the tables have filled to near bursting with new members, “Verkooyen, Kassandra!” With such precise pronounciation, it is clear she is not allowed to make mistakes when it comes to the children’s names.

A nervous smile rushes across Kassandra Verkooyen‘s face as she approaches the steps, which lead to the stool, with elegant steps. Climbing up the stairs she starts turning the ring on her right hand in excitement. She sits down gently and puts on the vintage hat.

An overwhelming smile gleams on Kassandra Verkooyen‘s face. She stands up gracefully and places the hat back onto the chair. Then she descends towards the Ravenclaw table with blushed cheeks, eased and contented about her destiny, and takes a seat among her housemates.

A quiet boy shuffles his way to Ravenclaw while two louder boys nearly race to Gryffindor upon the Hat’s announcement. Erica can’t help but chuckle at the exuberance before calling out the next name, “Weller, Rawnie!”

When Rawnie is called she runs up to the stool, takes the hat and places it in her head looking a bit comical with the brim covering most of her head. She is simply so excited that she is bounceing on her seat kicking her feet back and forth and twiddling her thumbs. A real “wiggle worm” this one.

Rawnie Weller stands and takes off the hat etting it back onto the stool muttering somthing that sounds a bit like “Starch” to the hat as she runs to take her seat at Gryffindor table.

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce randomly adds another short burst of applause before clutching his stomach dramatically. “I’m going to turn inside out soon,” he announces before blowing out his cheeks. ADD spaz.

“Fantastic!” the Charms professor is heard to exclaim softly as hears the Hat’s announcement. Whether it is for Rawnie’s sorting or if her gaze alights upon the final student awaiting their moment of consideration with the Hat. With a certain amount of zeal, Erica calls out, “And finally, Stopps, Warrick!”

Warrick Stopps blinks as his name is called and belatedly stands up a little straighter. Posture, oh, yes, good posture. He clears his throat, and with only another moment of hesitation, he sets his shoulders and marches up the stairs and to the stool. There he takes a sudden seat and puts on the hat like all the others before him.

(Hufflepuff) Baldwin Turner , having been sat down for a few minutes, starts to occupy himself by nervously biting his nails until a point when all this sorting has finished and he can, he assumes, go to sleep.

(Hufflepuff) Frowning, Rafe stares at the sorting hat. Hufflepuff. It had put him in Hufflepuff four years ago. Or was it three? Well this would be the third anniversary. With a sigh he watches as the number of first years at the table increases. “Children,” he mutters.

Erica Calwern looks up from her list and spots Talia still upon the dias. She looks back down at her list, “Stoederman, Smith, Stopps, how could I have?” A long silence and the woman exclaims, “Ah! Caulfield, Talia!”

Primed to the sound of her name, Talia Caulfield hastens forward on short, swift steps with eyes narrowed warily and breath nerve-quickened.

With a flick of her wrist, Erica has the scroll roll itself up and sends it back to her seat at the faculty table. The professor walks to the center of the dias and looks down upon the row after row of children, “So begins another year at our old home and for some of us new. At this time, it is my sincerest pleasure,” and her tone and expression do express that very sentiment, “to introduce all of you to our new Headmistress, Professor Prichard!”

Talia Caulfield raises her head in a sharp jerk, eyes rounding with a brief flash, and removes the hat with nimble fingers, rising and slipping it back on the stool with perfect precision before she moves at a sedate pace to join her new housemates at the Slytherin table.

“Thank you, Erica,” Melvina Prichard notes as she purposefully rises from the faculty table, lifting her cherry-wood wand to her neck and tapping the tip against it deftly. “Sonorus summissus,” she murmurs, giving a certain amount of power to her voice so that she may be heard of the student chattering; happy exchanges and exciting tales of places visited and daring-do over the long separation left by the summer holiday, she was certain. Not to mention the animated greetings of those newly appointed to thier houses.

“Pardon me, everyone,” Melvina calls, her voice filling the hall at a surprisingly comfortable volume. She pauses a moment to allow the hall to calm before tapping her wand again to her throat and restoring her normal speaking voice. One that is quiet pleasant, and fully reflective of the warm smile that graces her lips as she looks out over her young audience. “Welcome, everyone, to Hogwarts term for year nineteen hundred and twenty six! My name is Melvina Prichard and I have had great fortune of being appointed new Headmistress of Hogwarts school. I look forward knowing each of you as time passes. Moving on then, I’ve some beginning of term announcements to make.” Pulling a pair of spectacles from a pocket of her emerald robes and resting them on the bridge of her nose, the Headmistress lifts up a tightly-bound scroll which had she’d not appeared to be holding a moment before.

“The standard boilerplate, 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 begins to unroll the wound parchment, “Spellwork outside of the classroom, rough play, pranks, hijinxs, dungbombs, Whipple’s Pimple Powder..” Her brow furrows for a moment and the bottom of the scroll slips through her fingers, clattering to the table, spilling over the edge, and rolling across the floor until exhausting itself about half-way across the Great Hall. Her eyes widenning slightly, Melvina sets her end of the very long list down and vanishes it with a flick of her wand. “The list goes on. Be sure to check it.”

After quiet resumes, Melvina takes up a blessedly smaller sheet of parchment. “Hogwarts tradition demands that I remind you the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students; it’s equally tradition that some of you will choose to ignore this reminder.” A rueful chuckle escapes her as she shares a knowing smile with the hall. “Know then that detention is the minimum punishment for entering the Forbidden Forest without a member of staff or faculty along side you, and that such acts will almost always result in a major loss of house points as well.” With small glance around and a pause to clear her throat, Melvina continues. “Naturally, we ask that you respect and defer to your Prefects. Also, I’d like to congratulate our new Head Boy and Head Girl, Martin Foster and Eliza Marlowe. Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe, please stand.” She claps once the two have risen, leading those who care to join her in a modest round of applause, before continuing on.

“Very good, Head Boy, Head Girl. On to faculty. I have the pleasure of introducing several new faculty members to you, and to announce the return of a few others. Heading up our Wizo-Music classes will be international wizo-musician Darius Dwight. Great honor, there. Filling our other vacancies will be, for Astronomy, Mister Avery Fallon, Care of Magical Creatures, Mister Quintus Helit, and last but hardly least, Divination, a one Miss Bonnie Kensington. Also, returning from hiatus, Professors Isolde Morgan and Dante Hayward shall be resuming their posts as masters of Arithmancy and Muggle Studies, respectively. Ravenclaws will note that along with reclaiming her Arithmancy classroom, Professor Morgan is also be resuming her duties as Ravenclaw Head of House. Similarly, Hufflepuffs will be interested to know that Professor Sedgewick has been officially named your Head of House Hufflepuff for the coming year.” Melvina waits one last time for applause before plowing on.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood claps rather enthusiastically at the announcement of Head Boy and Girl, calling, “Well done, Captain!” in the brief interval of noise between segments of speech.

One large, deep, relieved breath and Melvina finally sets down the parchment and removes her glasses, slipping them back in to the pocket where she found them. “That said, I have only one more thing to mention before we start in on the delicious feast I know you’re all patiently waiting to savor. Seeing that we have so many new faces gracing us this year, in the spirit of celebration and greeting, I’ve decided to hold a small function. A barefoot social. This dance will semi-formal, open to all students of all years, faculty, and staff, and will include music, naturally, and an outdoor feast.” Her smile warms in to something almost sly, however, as she looks out at her young crowd. “But what social would be complete without courtship? So, for fun, I’ve decided to make this dance a bit unusual; our ladies will need ask our gentlemen for the honor of an afternoon’s companionship.” She waits, pleasantly, for the reaction to that before at last finishing up.

(Hufflepuff) Baldwin Turner claps slowly, not entirely sure what most of those announcements mean.

(Hufflepuff) Albert says, “I feel sorry for whomever Kelly ends up asking.”

(Hufflepuff) Aisling O‘Cormac blinks. “She has to be kidding, right? And who’s Kelly?”

“I’d like to form an events council, made up of students from all years, to help me prepare; 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. Once your bellies are full and you gossip abated, please follow your Prefects to your respective common rooms, and have a wonderful school year. Let us eat.” And with small nod and a sly, lingering grin, Melvina slips casually back in to her seat.

(Hufflepuff) Olivia Baxtor gasps in horror as the new headmistress makes this announcement about the dance. The girl is shocked to hear this news in the least, but keeps her comments to herself as the woman continues speaking.

(Hufflepuff) Turning to Albert, Aisling once more asks, “Who is this Kelly girl? And what’s wrong with her?”

(Hufflepuff) “Kelly’s an amazing young woman,” Rafe scoffs at Albert. “She’s fascinating, too. Not boring like some. Or stupid like others. She’s neither afraid to speak her mind nor is she too brash to cause continual damage to herself.” He shoots Albert a glare and looks at his food.

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce winks at his fellow fourth year, then grins at Aisling. “Don’t let him fool you. She’s not just off her rocker, she’s broken the poor thing.” He reaches over to grab a couple bread rolls and begins slathering butter onto them. “Eliza! Congratulations!” he remembers to add. All in a day’s work.

(Hufflepuff) Aisling O‘Cormac blinks. “Sooooo…. A girl that Rafe likes? She sounds rather extraordinary.”

(Hufflepuff) Baldwin Turner blinks, “Isn’t girls asking boys a bit… bit…” He shudders. “B-b-bit unusual?”

(Hufflepuff) Eyeing Aisling, Rafe just shakes his head, “Don’t amuse yourself by spreading idle gossip. Kelly is fascinating. She’s a muse to me, if you will. A mascot, perhaps.” Just what every girl wants: to be equated to a mascot. “Unusual as it may be, it certainly takes the pressure off. I don’t plan on being asked. Dancing is. . .a complete waste of time.”

(Hufflepuff) Warrick Stopps squints, apperantly thinking. “…A bit,” he eventually agrees with Baldwin, piing up to be heard for the first time. “…A mascot?” Confusion abounds.

(Hufflepuff) Aisling O‘Cormac turns to Baldwin. “I think that was the headmistress’ point, having a Sadie Hawkins’.” she says, and then turns back to Rafe. “How exactly do you plan on avoiding having someone ask you, Rafe? There’s that whole free will thing.”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood actually lets out a sigh of relief when the mode of asking is announced. “Thanfully I won’t have to go. Good to know–Why, DeWitt,” he latches on to the conversation at long last, “sounds as if you fancy her.” Hopefully certain rumors will not decide to surface. “Although I have to agree. Strange, yes, but Kate is rather interesting and has a good deal more character than some girls.” He blushes, suddenly, and adds, “But she is strange.”

(Hufflepuff) “Well, this is Hogwarts,” Albert answers Baldwin, grinning. Rolls buttered, he adds some potatoes (with butter), roast beef (more butter), and some thick gravy. (Yes, butter.) “And hey, if it means Kelly’s asking you, Rafe, and not one of us, I’m already happier!” Munch.

(Hufflepuff) Baldwin Turner ponders on this, “Why… I mean, uh, why can’t you… or don’t you… Why not just,” His next three words are said very carefully, almost like he could be totally stupid for saying them. “M-magic yourselves better?”

(Hufflepuff) About to begin munching on a buttered roll, Aisling stops, and turns to Charlie. “Did you say Kate? I thought her name was Kelly?”

(Hufflepuff) Casper Hadley disagrees. “I had to go to my cou.. well, I guess I’m barely related to him. I had to go to Ivy Thornwelds brother’s wedding last christmas. The entire event was horrible, but the dancing was the most fun I’d had all year.” The sight of Casper dancing must have been incredibly humorous. “No, you can’t magic yourself better. You have to learn. The best way to do that is to try.”

(Hufflepuff) “Fancy her?” Rafe nearly chokes on his pumpkin juice at the mere notion. “Surely you joke. I fancy no one. You, on the other hand, Charlie, I heard a rather fascinating rumour about you and Kelly. . . although it’s not in my nature to pass news along.” He narrows his eyes and then sideglances Albert, “No one’s asking me. End of story. No, if I avoid all pleasant contact with female students, no one will ask me.”

(Hufflepuff) “Couldn’t have said it better,” Albert agrees with Casper, gesturing emphatically with half a cup of pumpkin juice, which is quickly drained. “That’s easy, Rafe. Just tell the girls you’re going to the dance with Martin Foster.”

(Hufflepuff) Baldwin Turner nods, “Right, right… I’m sorry.”

(Hufflepuff) Aisling O‘Cormac stops a moment. “Isn’t that the name of the Head Boy?” she asks, putting her cutlery to rest on her plate as she looks over the desserts.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood turns a sort of purply hue and says, “She said call her Kate and she is my friend, and only sort of!” Whether this is true or not, Charlie won’t ever let on. He gets progressively crosser and adds, “I couldn’t ever fancy her, anyway. So don’t so much like you do–” Albert’s comment brings up another blush and he says, “He can’t go with Martin, Martin is another boy.” Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much. A mutter of something indistinct and then, “I’m going to eat now.”

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce is trying very, very hard not to laugh. At least… not a lot. And very loudly. Finally, the fourth year on the other side of Al elbows him extremely hard in the ribs. “Ow! Hey, what was,” and there’s another jab in the same spot. “Oh. Hey, sorry, Rafe.” And the overly talkative one is silenced with food. And elbow jabs to the ribs.

(Hufflepuff) “Foster?! Believe me, the girls will swoon over Foster. He and Morris went for something like 36 galleons each at the Slytherin Quidditch Auction. . . which I believe Kelly contributed to? Sorry, Charlie. Her heart goes to a much older man. . .” Rafe scowls at Albert and just shakes his head, “You’re walking on thin ice, Albert. THIN ice.”

(Hufflepuff) Aisling O‘Cormac tilts her head to one side. “Maybe that’s why he thinks you should get in first, Rafe. To beat all the swooning girls to Martin. Although, if the girls have to ask the boys, then a boy couldn’t go with a boy. Because who would do the asking? That’s ever so complicated. Hey Rafe?”

(Hufflepuff) Albert Bryce finishes off the majority of his meal in record time, then butters a couple more rolls before wrapping them in a napkin. “I’m going to head up, I think. See you guys there,” he tells the others. “Sorry, Rafe. I’ll drop it. And 36 Galleons? Those girls have more money than brains, I think.” So much for that.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood makes a face into his neatly segregated mashed potatos and then looks up, carefully masking his irritation and outburst with humor. “Well, better have a conversation with her about which of you gets to ask him then, shouldn’t you?” The pink tint doesn’t leave his ears and the comment comes out rather strained, but it’s out and no taking it back.

Marie-Anna Greyton quietly stands from Gryffindor table and makes her way across the hall to Slytherin table. Indeed, nothing to out of the ordinary, until she walks up to stand behind the Head Boy and proceeds to give Martin a big hug, despite the fact that he is sitting. “Congratulations on making Head Boy Martin.”

(Hufflepuff) As Marie stands, Rafe smirks, “See, it’s already begun. I’m glad I’m not Head Boy. Or prefect. Or anything.” He returns to his dinner and silences.

(Hufflepuff) Angelo Grey eats away, minding his own business. However, there’s something that’s nagging his mind, and he breaks silence. “What are the duties of a prefect? And a headboy or girl?”