Edern Fallon almost hops into the Great Hall as he comes moves in. He looks up at the Faculty table and smiles as he waves to Keelan, finally making his way to the Slytherin table.

The southern doors to the Great Hall are flung wide open. They fly outward, ready to crash into the wall, only to stop suddenly just before impact. Through this opening strides Professor Gerald Rathe, with an untidy line of first-year students following behind. Although he travels at what is for him a casual saunter, him long legs still eat up the distance rapidly. Arriving at the front of the room, he is forced to pause for a moment to make sure that the first years catch up, and indicates to them that they should stand in a line behind him.

Christopher Hobbs blinks as he enters the large hall, wide eyes greedily taking in all of the details of the room. A broad but nervous grin stretches across his face as he walks in line after Professor Rathe.

Gilroy Hollister trails Professor Rathe into the Hall, grey eyes making a wide sweep of the faces assembled before being pulled in by the ceiling. He speaks a vague syllable before remembering to stay silent, and instead nudges Mariska and points upward at the artificial night sky.

The heat, light and sound almost bowls Adelaide over, thanks to the long train journey and dark boat ride. As the doors open, she shuffles along with her fellow first years, putting on a face of not a care in the world, even though she knows that everyone in the hall is going to be looking at them. It’s not at all what she expected, but her brother had warned her that the sorting is different for everyone, and as undescribable for each.

Silas follows Professor Rathe into the Great Hall and gapes at the sight. He didn’t know what to expect, but he sure hadn’t expected such an extravagant sight! This was even more impressive than the banquet hall at Vicaris Hall! So many people… watching them get sorted. Silas tries to steel his nerves, but finds such a task hard to do here.

Walking into the great hall with the rest of the unsorted students Tommy‘s eyes immediatly look up to the enchanted roof and the first words out of his mouth are “Wow! Look at that.” And then they move to take in the rest of the hall, wide with wonder and a grin scrawled over his face.

Mariska Moore enters the great hall with the other unsorted students. A quick look around reveals the rest of the student body. With a slight gulp she looks to either side, finding Gilroy to one she grins and remains silent. At Gil’s nuding Mariska looks up, and her eyes widen more than they were before, if that’s possible.

(Faculty) Having sat quietly for a very long time, Astra does startle a little as the door flies open. Muttering to herself with an eyeroll “And I’m told that my entrances are dramatic?” Casting a sidelong glance at Darius, she smirks but goes back to her usual silence pre-Sorting.

(Faculty) Darius nods to Astra and immediately quips, low and quiet, “Well, now we know where you get it from.” He studiously avoids her gaze after he says that.

A dark skinned, curly-haired boy of eleven moves along after Gerald with his head held steady and his shoulders squared back. Theodore de Alquimia is nervous, but other than a paleness to his face, it does not show. He moves with the unconcious grace of someone subjected to many ettiquette lessons, and tries to control his urge to look around. Noticing others looking up, however, he chances a peek. And then stands, entranced. A good thing he is already where he needs to be, or he’d be left gawking at the doors while everyone else followed Gerald.

Her eyes widening as she enters the great hall, Seraphina seems to trail a bit momentarily in the entrance. She tugs on the sleeves of her robes, as if doing so will take the nervousness away and she pauses momentarily. Once she realizes that the group is leaving without her up to the front, she trots along, catching up and then stopping at the front once they get there.

Jack Wexler follows the group in, looking at the hall with slightly wide eyes. He’d quite suddenly wished he’d not given his last chocolate frog to Seraphina on the boats, as his hands were fidgeting in his pockets nervously for something to shove in to his mouth.

(Faculty) Isolde gives a soft snicker at Astra’s mutter and resettles herself, also startled at the entrance. She sizes up the first years as they file in, opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. Instead, she smiles serenely, her green eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Following Gerald into the hall beside her cousin, Vashti looks around the room at the already sorted students. She isn’t really nervous per se, but does want desperately to be sorted. It will complete the experience. It will mean she really belongs and her invitation wasn’t sent to her by accident.

Hannah walks into the Great Hall, dazzled by the impressions that are overwhelming her immediately. All those new faces and the magic in the atmosphere. “What a nice place to be.” she thinks for herself. It’s so beautiful. Intimidating, but beautiful.

(Faculty) Looking a bit exhausted from her own little trip Phoebe nearly flops down in her chair. “Sorry Im late everyone. I had to avoid ferry the children and explain how a squid is different than a squib. Phoebe chuckles softly and pours herself something warm to drink. “I do hope the children don’t catch cold from being out on the lake like that.

Gerald Rathe steps off to the back of the Hall briefly, returning with a shabby old hat in one hand, and a stool in the other. He carries the hat gingerly, as if it were very fragile, and places it softly on the stool at the front of the room. This done, he steps back from the hat the front of the first-year students, and watches. The hat sits still on the stool for a moment, and then with a little jerk, a tear across the brim opens wide like a mouth!

(Faculty) Melvina chuckles in regards to Astra’s comment, taking a sip of her tea. She passes a shrewd, quiet gaze across the entering first years, but says nothing as the hat begins to regail the hall with it’s song. “Poetic this year,” she notes, more to herself than for anyone else’s benefit.

Gilroy Hollister watches the Hat intently as it sings, corners of his lips twitching as he takes in each word as if the Hat were a professor in itself. When the words finish, he taps his fingers together in tentative applause, uncertain on whether or not such accolades are meant to follow the Hat’s recitation.

Leaning over to Hannah with her nose wrinkled, Vashti comments in a whisper, “That has to be the oddest thing I’ve ever seen. A singing hat? What’s next?”

“It talked!” Jack yelps in a thick New York accent, his green eyes wide as they dart to the stool where the old, patchy hat was placed. “That hat just talked! Is it supposed to do that?”

Christopher Hobbs blinks, eyes widened yet again with wonder and amusement. He whistles quietly in awe, but says nothing…yet.

Her heart was beating so fast, that Adelaide gripped her cousin’s hand, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh…”

Adrian Skye blinks, and can do nothing but stare apprehensively at the talking Hat for a few seconds. “Ade…” he whispers. “They’re letting… a… hat… sort?”

Hannah‘s eyes widen as the hat begins to sing. Of course it’s only another magic thing she never heard of before, but that exactly is what impresses her so much right now. “That thing is going to decide in which house we’ll be in? Oh lordy…”

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh folds her hands across her lap, eyes flickering from the unsorted students to those already at their House tables, both to spy those who misbehave and to occasionally smile as a favored student catches her eye. So, quite seldom then.

“Don’t your hats talk?” Tommy teases Jack with a grin before looking back over to the hat itself. The little boy looks quite pleased to even be at Hogwarts let alone to have heard the hat’s song.

“This is it, this is it!” Melissa squeezed Adelaide’s hand excitedly.

Gerald Rathe gives the first years a sharp unapproving glance in response to their chatter.

“Sure, why not?” Silas whispers to Jack, “your chocolate frogs jumped, didn’t they? Why shouldn’t enchanted hats talk?” Silas masks his surprise as well as he can, as it’s not every day one encounters a talking hat.

Stepping up, Gerald Rathe produces a long scroll from within his cloak, and unfurls it. Addressing the first years, he says, “After I read your name, you will put on the hat, sit on the stool to be sorted.” Glancing at the list, he absentmindedly cracks his knuckles in his left hand. “Adams, Adelaide!”

After a long, long wait, the big event was finally here, and Adelaide couldn’t have been more petrified if she tried. Not that she showed it. Inside she was sure her stomach was going to shake all the way down to her feet, and she could barely speak for fear of squeaking with excitement and looking ridiculous. Then, her heart shot up to her throat as she heard the unmistakeable call of her name. With a little mental nudge she walked up to the stool, sitting down on it, hat on head, and shooting everyone who was watching her one of the hugest smiles, because for the next seven years, Hogwarts would be her home.

(Faculty) Selene Hathaway leans forward a bit as the line of students parade in. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, a look of excitement as her gaze travels over each student as she slowly turns her cup in her hand. Slowly her lips curl into a grin as she hat begins its song and she settles back in her chair to watch the sorting.

That was fair point, actually, that Silas had made. Jack couldn’t deny it. Still, he’d have felt better about the whole thing if he could chew on something.

“Thank you.” Adelaide murmurs as her house is called, and her small form darts off the stool, all but flying towards them all, with a cheerful little wave, having regained all of her energy and excitement. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.” She quips.

(Faculty) Grinning from her place at the faculty table, Avery nods as her house recieves one more charge. “First of the year!” she says cheerfully.

Gerald Rathe continues to read down the list, as the Sorting continues. Atwell, Otto gets sorted into Ravenclaw, and after that, Barclay, Kieran goes to Hufflepuff. Looking back to the line of students, Professor Rathe calls on “Brooke, Melissa!”

(Faculty) Though it would be unseemly for a supposedly neutral teacher to take pleasure in the same thing Avery did, he likewise has a firm grin at his old house getting the first sorted student of the year.

Upon hearing her name being called, Melissa steps out of the crowd of first years. A huge smile is displayed on her face as she looks around. She is aware of the people watching her, and this makes her slightly nervous. The nervousness is hidden by the excitement she feels. She walks forward to the stool in her usual frolic way, her hair flowing behind her, and she sits down and puts on the hat, excitedly. This is it. The moment.

(Faculty) Though it would be unseemly for a supposedly neutral teacher to take pleasure in the same thing Avery did, Darius likewise has a firm grin at his old house getting the first sorted student of the year.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard grins along with Avery, quite in spite of herself. Even after all these years, old Bert was still a Gryffindor at heart. She applauds politely for Miss Adams before adding some sugar to her tea.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh raises an eyebrow but applauds politely each time the Hat calls out a name. Certainly Slytherin would get some of them. She shifts a bit, suddenly, her eyebrows coming down together. The hands on her lap seem to fidget a bit, somewhat out of character for the woman.

(Faculty) Isolde applauds with each new sorting, and each Hufflepuff addition gets an extra grin. “Moving right along, aren’t they?” she says to no one in particular, cheerful but hushed.

Andrew Cartwright cheers loudly!

The sorting hat shouts her house and Melissa gets up, happily running to her table, nearly tripping as she hurries down the steps. She manages to keep her balance and simply grins as she sits down with her fellow housemates.

Gerald Rathe continues reading down the list of names, as Elladora Burke is sorted into Ravenclaw, and Ryskim Calborn becomes a Slytherin. Professor Rathe frowns and pauses momentarily before calling, “Darian, Tommy!”

When his name is called Tommy hurries to take the hat and sit himself upon the stool his face alight with pride that he’s finally made it to the school. Placing the hat on his head it sinks over his eyes and ears looking quite comical. His hands fold into his lap neatly and his body shakes in anticipation of what will come next as he waits patiently.

(Faculty) “They always do, dear,” Melvina says, quietly, watching the unsorted with a tender expression. “And before you know it, they’ll all be graduating, and soon after will have become our collogues and bosses. It’s a wonderous thing, isn’t it?”

Hopping from the barstool and removing the hat Tommy excitedly runs to join the Slytherin table nearly tripping in the progress. He happily takes his seat amongst them cheering with the other first years he knew who made it there as well.

(Faculty) There’s been no noticeable change on Astra‘s face during the sorting. She’s barely stirred in her seat other than to nod at one child’s placement or another. But the moment Tommy’s name is called she frowns and deeper still when the boy is placed into her House.

Gerald Rathe silently watches Tommy take his seat with the Slytherin, and then looks back to his list. He calls on, “de Alquimia, Teddy!”

Teddy de Alquimia has been paying attention to the names called out, but hearing his own is still a surprise. Practiced grace masks his nervousness as he moves up to the stool, and he places the hat upon his head with a tenative smile to the line of Professors at their table. Though the Sorting Hat does not engulf his head, the brim is wide, and those close enough can only see the boy’s mouth pressing together thoughtfully as his time with the Hat progresses.

(Faculty) Selene Hathaway grins a little more as the hat announces Slytherin members, but she seems to be enjoying the ceremony on the whole. She takes a sip from her cup and glances down her own table briefly before settling back in to watch the rest of the sorting. Her eyes do stray towards the Slytherin table from time to time and in those moments her gaze looks almost calculating.

Jack Wexler watches quietly as first year after first year approaches the stool and the brown, heavily patched felt hat that sits on top it. His initial shock has subsided, replaced by a certain curiousity as he notes that several of his would-be classmates have been subjected to the cap and come away safely.

Teddy de Alquimia looks more nervous than ever as he removes the Hat and returns it to the stool. With a slight bow–yes, really–at Gerald, he moves out of the way of the next person to be Sorted and toward the appropriate table. Well, here’s hoping it’s the appropriate table. What was that order again?

(Faculty) Watching bemusedly as each student is sorted Phoebe could not help nut notice that both the Rathes seemed to twitch just a bit at the mention of the Darian boy’s house. Taking another swig she leans nearer to Astra. “Somthing the matter Professor Rathe?” Being unaware of the history behind Tommy’s name poor Phoebe is completely ignorant as to why they both reacted in such a way.

Shaking his head after Teddy, Gerald Rathe goes back to the task at hand. After the hat sorts Kaiah DeFuenta into Hufflepuff, Gerald continues down the list to call on “Forsyth, Hannah!”

Hannah Forsyth winces, as she gets taken by surprise hearing her name resounding in the vast hall and feeling all the school’s eyes fixed on her. Vashti was in her vicinity all the time during the trip, but now she has to take those last steps alone. What if she ends up alone in one of the four houses, apart from her cousins? “Think positive…” she mutters under her breath, clutching her left arm with her right hand and takes a first step towards the chair. Hesitating for a moment, she looks back to Vashti and Jezebel a last time before marching straight to the front and picking up the Sorting Hat. Hannah turns around, flops onto the stool and puts on the hat harshly, waiting for something to happen.

(Faculty) Scowling in a rather horrid fashion, Astra turns her head away from the Sorting just long enough to take her eyes off the latest child. “Darian is a foul name with foul blood. That’s all I have to say on the matter.” “I’ll be keeping my eye on *that* one.”

(Faculty) Melvina casts a brief glance to Astra after setting down her teacup, but otherwise says nothing. Her features remaining quiet, even serious. After a moment, however, of regarding her Deputy Headmistress, she turns her gaze back to the Sorting.

(Faculty) Bites her lip at Phoebe‘s reaction as it was quite unexpected. “Forgive me, I …. didn’t mean anything Astra.” Instead of saying anything more Phoebe turns her attention back to the sorting slowly nursing on whatever it was she put in her glass. Her eyes do stray though to Tommy and then to her own son sitting at the Hufflepuff table.

Hannah slowly gets up, putting the hat back to its original place on the stool, then leaps towards the Gryffindor table as relief overcomes her. “Hey, I made it!” she greets her new housemates and sits down. Now it’s only about her cousins following her to Gryffindor.

Gerald Rathe reads on, his voice becoming patterned and rhythmic with the repetitious nature of his task. He calls on “Greer, Sophie,” who is sorted into Gryffindor, and then comes to “Hobbs, Christopher!”

Christopher Hobbs jumps nervously as the odd hat ominously calls out his name, and nods reassuringly to himself as he walks slowly forward to the front of the room, his steps upon the slate floor echoing in the ensuing silence. His heart beats so strongly in his chest that he idly wonders if others can hear it themselves. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he gingerly places the old hat upon his head and sits slowly down upon the stool. His eyes rotate to stare directly at the hat itself as if worried he might hurt it–or vice versa.

Next, Gerald Rathe recites “Hollister, Gilroy!”

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh doesn’t turn so much as incline her head toward Astra and can’t help but add in an even tone, “Surely the child can’t be blamed for his parentage, however horrible?” It isn’t a reprimand so much as an observation, as she too, follows Tommy’s progress to the Slytherin table. “In any case,” a tiny smile surfaces, “you’re in an excellent position to keep an eye on him, aren’t you?” She frowns and shifts again, suddenly, attention back on the sorting process.

For all his quivering excitement from the train ride through the current scene in the Great Hall, Gilroy Hollister grows briefly still at the call of his name. He squares his shoulders and stretches his arms out before him. Then, with slow deliberate steps and twitchy anxious fingers, Gilroy treads to the front of everyone’s attention, and after one wide eyed look back at everyone, he carefully sits on the stool, lifts the Hat, and looks inside before placing it on his head.

Christopher Hobbs exhales forcefully, surprising himself; he didn’t realize that he had been holding his breath the whole time. He stands up from the stool after removing the Sorting Hat, a wave of joy passing over him. He offers a wave to his fellow first-year friends with a huge grin spreading rapidly across his face once again. All of the anxiety he had felt is gone, replaced with giddy excitement. Christopher walks over to his new House table, offering a friendly wave to the others already seated there.

(Faculty) Isolde‘s attention wanders down the table to Astra and Phoebe, but she keeps her tongue. Tommy gets a closer look, but her attention is soon diverted to the newly named Hufflepuffs, and soon she’s back to smiling, nodding and applauding. After a while she comment quietly, “They seem to be a fairly happy bunch, these new first years. Always nice to see. Good attitudes to go with that, I hope.”

(Faculty) “I do hope they are as well behaved the whole year as they were on the boat ride.” Phoebe quips gently seemingly having forgot all about the Slytherin boy. “I didn’t have a single problem with any of them. Though I think a few were tempted to get a closer look at the squid.” “I told them in no uncertain terms that I wouldn’t be happy if I had to jump in the lake after them.”

Gilroy Hollister visibly jolts as the hat shouts the name of his new house, though for the surprise of volume and decision in his eyes, he cannot help but grin as he removes the hat and makes his way to the Ravenclaw bench. “Guess mum was right about me being too much like dad sometimes,” he murmurs to himself as his eyes skim his new classmates.

The list continues, as Gerald Rathe reads on, and “Kana, Allgermein” goes into Hufflepuff, followed by “Kapoor, Rajindar” who is sorted into Ravenclaw, and then “Kemys, Jezebel” winds up in Gryffindor. Next, Gerald declares: “Kemys, Vashti!”

(Faculty) Melvina exhales a small, puffed, genuinely amused laugh about that as she sets her elbows up on the table and steeples her fringers together in front her lips.

Vashti applauds, almost bored, as her cousin Jezebel is placed into Gryffindor. If she had to be honest, the hat’s song did little to explain exactly what being in Gryffindor really means. She shrugs. Knowing her name was coming, of course, Vashti Kemys stands up and makes her way over to the hat. She practiced this walk earlier this week, back home in her room. It’s a bit shakier now than it was then, but she finally arrives and takes a seat on the stool. As the hat is lowered onto her head, she listens carefully.

Glad inside that she’s with both her cousins in Gryffindor, her quarrel with Jezebel is forgotten as she scampers excitedly to the red-washed table. “See, I can make Gryffindor too!” she says in triumph before sitting down.

Glad inside that she’s with both her cousins in Gryffindor, her quarrel with Jezebel is forgotten as Vashti scampers excitedly to the red-washed table. “See, I can make Gryffindor too!” she says in triumph before sitting down.

Mores names come from the scroll in Gerald‘s hands. Aedan Llewellyn becomes a Hufflepuff, Raurin Macbeth is sorted into Slytherin, the Hat chooses to place Leith MacLeod in Hufflepuff and Brian Maloney is sent to Gryffindor. The next name called is “Moore, Mariska!”

Mariska Moore blinks slightly as her name is called and steps forward. Quietly, and nervously, she makes her way to the stool, wherein she promptly sits and settles the hat atop her head. Due to the size of her head, the hat successfully manages to cover most of it. Mariska, now settled, places her hands in her lap and awaits the hat’s decision.

Mariska Moore removes the Sorting Hat from her head and looks around. Quickly the girl spots her house table and makes her way towards it, promptly taking her seat once she reaches Slytherin table.

Reading on, Gerald Rathe comes to “O’Bannon, Albert,” “Perelli, Phoenix” and “Pheras, Kiyan,” all of whom are sorted, one after the other, into Hufflepuff. With an apprehensive glance at the swelling Hufflepuff table, Gerald calls on “Pryor, Seraphina!”

Seraphina has seen a group of people get sorted now, and it doesn’t seem so frightening to the girl. After all, nobody else appears to have been injured. She pauses, however, before stepping up to the hat, glancing backward at those around her, waiting yet to be sorted. It is moments like these that Sera realizes she’s a lonely child, but given that the hat is waiting for her, she doesn’t have the time to dawdle. Quickly she hops up to the stool and plunks the hat down on her head.

Hopping up quickly, Seraphina breathes in deeply. That wasn’t so painful! She quickly walks over to her designated table, joining her housemates quietly with merely a semblance of a nod toward them.

After the Hat sorts Haley Renalds into Ravenclaw, Gerald Rathe comes to the next name: “Skye, Adrian!”

Adrian Skye takes a last deep breath and mutters to himself, “I can do it.” Glancing one last time to his friends already sitting at their various tables, he starts. As Adrian is walking towards the Hat, his foot catches the edge of his robe, and he trips. Although he is able to regain his balance quickly, there are some sniggers amongst the crowd. Adrian, however, magnificently keeps a straight and stoic face, ignoring everything until he has finally arrived at the stool. With shaking fingers, Adrian removes the hat from the stool, sits, and puts the Hat on, feeling the stares of so many, too many eyes on him.

Adrian‘s face is still stoic, and he is unmoving for a second. Slowly and daintily, he removes the Hat, putting it back on the seat, face still a blank. As he stands up, a slow grin begins to dance across his face. He walks away from the stool silently, but the glowing look on his face tells all of his emotions. When he reaches the table of Gryffindor, his face absolutely explodes with joy as he gives an enormous hug to his best friend Adelaide, his Housemate for the next seven years to come.

The Sorting continues, with more and more of the scroll unfurling as the names are called. “Stufflebeam, Graham” goes into Ravenclaw, while “Torpenhow, Marius” and “Trumble, Aemele” end up in Slytherin. After “Vertigonte, Claude” is sorted into Hufflepuff, Gerald calls on, “Vicaris, Silas!”

At hearing his name called, Silas suddenly tenses up. His nerves start to fail him as he walks forward to the stool, his mind focused hard on not stumbling or tripping on the way there. Once there, he turns around and slowly climbs backwards onto the stool, staring with wide eyes at the population of the Great Hall. The Sorting Hat is placed upon his head, and he glances up at the brim as he waits for something to happen.

Somewhat gratified by the exclamation of the Sorting Hat, Silas pulls it roughly from his head and hops off the stool, depositing it on the vacant seat before walking quickly to his table. The grinning fool takes a seat at a vacant opening and looks at the few left in line to see where they get sorted.

Gerald Rathe intones, “Walker, Abe!” and the named student is sorted into Ravenclaw. Looking at the last name on the scroll, Gerald says, “Wexler, Jack!”

Jack takes a deep breath as his name is called; the curse of his surname and it’s place at the end of the alphabet an occassional boone, as well. He’d plenty of time to steel his resolve and gathering his wits, and now that his name had been called, he was ready… or at least he thought. His first step toward the stool on which sat the brown, talking hat is a wobbly one, and he very nearly loses his balance and collapses. It’s only with a fair amount of arm-flailing and a pinch of luck that he manages to fetch his footing and keep himself upright. His following steps are more careful as he pulls the flat-cap from his head and makes his way to the stool, clambering on to it and placing the Sorting Hat carefully on to his head as if he might hurt it somehow.

Blinking, Jack pulls the hat off slowly – again, careful, as if he might somehow hurt it – and sets it back on the stool before making his way to the Gryffindor table.

Looking a little deflated and relieved, at the same time, Gerald Rathe furls the scroll with the names of the first years on it, and returns it to his cloak. He picks up the hat with same care shown earlier, and the stool, returning them to their original place. Finally, with a somber expression, his takes his seat at the faculty table with a nod to his neighbours there.

(Faculty) Gerald Rathe sits upright, but a slight droop to his shoulders is still evident. “I swear that this gets longer every year.”

Melvina Prichard rises with purpose from the faculty table once the ritual of Sorting has concluded, lifting a nimble, long-fingered hand in a suggestive to beckon silence from the students massed in the hall. “Thank you, Professor Rathe. Excuse me, quiet please — yes, that includes you, Mister Markham,” she says in a strong tone, ever-laced with a hint of amusement. The ghost of a grin touches her lips as she looks over the wealth of her school.

(Faculty) Laughing quietly to herself at her father’s comment, Astra quirks a sharp little grin and turns to him. “Nah, you’re just getting older old man.”

“Greetings and salutations, everyone,” Melvina says, her voice effortlessly floating across the Great Hall at a comfortable volume. “Welcome to your school year nineteen hundred and thirty one! I trust that all of you enjoyed your summer vacation. Some of you will of course remember me, while for others this will be our introduction; my name is Melvina Prichard and I am Headmistress of Hogwarts school. For intensely personal reasons I have spent the last few years on sabbatical away from our majestic island and have only recently been able to return to its fair shores. Toward both staff and students, I pray that my departure has not left a rift between us, nor that you find my return unsettling. I value the friendships I’ve made in this magical place and the opportunity to see each of you grow in to the dreams you have of yourselves. While I can not ask you to forgive me or my previous and hasty departure, I do ask that you believe it was both necessary and carefully thought out; that you accept that I left you in the very best of hands. With that said, I’d like you all to stand and applaud Professor Astra Rathe, who has been performing the role of Headmistress in my absence and has most graciously deigned to resume her previous duties as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, head of Slytherin house and Deputy Headmistress, as well as Professor Keelan Walsh, and all other staff and faculty members of Hogwarts who pulled together to fill the holes and make the changes required by my egress and homecoming.” Melvina turns then to face the rest of the faculty table and leads the school in what she hopes will be a loud, rousing and heartfelt symphony of cheer for her most esteemed colleagues.

After a long few moments of leading the cheer, Melvina turns again to face the assembled student body and lifts her hand once more; beckoning for silence and motioning the students back in to their seats. “Thank you, everyone.”

“Pressing on, I’ve some beginning of term announcements to make.” Clearing her throat, the Headmistress pulls a pair of spectacles the waist pocket of her emerald robe and rests them on the bridge of her hooked nose. She then reaches with her right hand in to the cuff of her left sleeve and withdraws an aged cherry wand which she gives a casual flick and conjures a scroll of parchment which floats unassisted in the air several inches above her head. “All the usual suspects, of course,” she says simply as the scroll unrolls itself horizontally, expanding most of the length of the faculty table. “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–” As she begins to speak, delicately written, calligraphic letters glide across the floating parchment from the left to right like ticker tape – PROHIBITED ITEMS AND ACTIVITIES – and then begins to mirror her words as she continues, “Spellwork outside of the classroom, rough play, pranks, hijinxs, dungbombs, Whimple’s Pimple Powder..” With each item listed the speed on which the words dance across the parchment grows quicker and quicker still until they become little more than a seemingly endless blur of black cursive. “As you can see, the list quite extensive. Be certain to check it.”

Melvina gives another vague flick of her wand and the hovering scroll rolls itself up, tumbles twice and then vanishes in a small puff of mauve-colored smoke. “Of course, 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 certainly forget that pesky rule. It just slips out, squeezed away from the building pressure of all that knowledge our fine professors work so hard to fill your heads with.” 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 result in a substantial loss of house points as well.” Clearing her throat, Melvina pauses to take a sip of pumpkin juice before continuing. “Naturally, we ask that you respect and defer to your prefects. I’d also like to congratulate our new Head Boy and Head Girl, Oliver Cloverwood and Briony Wexler respectively. Mister Cloverwood and Miss Wexler, please stand.” She again leads the school in a round of applause.

Briony Wexler gasps as it’s announced that she is head girl, and she beams, waving enthusiastically to everyone in the room before she plops back down in her seat, beaming quite excitedly. Head Girl!

“Well done, Head Boy, Head Girl,” the Headmistress says, sincerely. “On to faculty. There are many exciting changes in Hogwarts faculty this year; as mentioned before Professor Astra Rathe will be returning to post as Defense Against the Dark Arts lead, head of Slytherin house and Deputy Headmistress. I’d personally like to thank Professor Walsh for heading up Slytherin house during Professor Rathe’s tenure as Headmistress, and Professor Gerald Rathe for stepping up to cover Defense.” She turns briefly to face Keelan and Gerald, offering then a modest but genuine applause before facing the Great Hall once again. “Professor Gerald Rathe will be taking over our Charms department. I’d like to introduce you all to our new Professor of Transfiguration, Selene Hathaway.” With her right hand she motions to Professor Hathaway, then begins another round of brief, polite round of applause. “And I would like to welcome back to the Hogwarts family Professor of Arithmancy, Isolde Morgan, and Potions Master, Professor Adalphous Fallon.” Again she applauds, nodding to each of the returning Professor in turn.

“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. As some you know, I am a firm believer in tradition; both in the keeping of it, and the occasional breaking. Thus, I announce the return of what I hope will become one of many long-standing Hogwarts traditions; the third Barefoot Social.” An almost devilish 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 returning for yet 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 as she looks out at her young crowd. She is clearly terribly proud of herself. “As this is the daughter of tradition, we shall follow the precedent set by events of year’s prior — 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, the Valentine’s Soiree, Career Day, and a handful of other special events the Deputy Headmistress and 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.

(Faculty) “Well, that was fun,” Melvina says simply, taking up her fork and placing some of the turkey that had just materialized in front of her on to her plate.

(Faculty) “Admit it, Melvina. You just took this job to create your own social life,” Darius quips, also happily tucking into the food that has appeared in front of him. “How many school events are you planning on us running, now?”

(Faculty) Melvina can’t help but grin at Darius’ (not-entirely untrue) cheek. “A half-dozen or so, that may change. Not all of them are entirely my fault, I might add. You’ll need to confront my deputy on grounds of a few.”

(Faculty) Gerald Rathe leans forward on one elbow, with furrowed brow. He raises an eyebrow at Astra at Melvina’s comment, but addresses Melvina. “Tell me, Headmistress, does one actually attend this “Barefoot Social” without shoes?”

(Faculty) “No, Gerald. It’s a metaphor for the souless existence that is life in Scotland.” Darius declares, deadpan.

(Faculty) Melvina simply grins her response, a rather mischevious twinkle in her eye.

(Faculty) “I think I might have to be ill if the Social is going to happen underwater again.” “In fact, I may have to be sick on general principle.” Taking up her goblet for the first time during the whole evening, Astra presses it to her lips and takes a drink. “Much as it’s a wonderful concept,” there is no smile, “I’m afraid some of us,” but Gerald’s comment catches her and she snorts in derision at the affair. “Shoeless, yes.” “May as well try to fit in with the peasants.”

(Faculty) Gerald Rathe looks rather abruptly to Darius, staring at him for a beat with a blank expression, then breaks into an open laugh. Shaking his head, he says, “Shoeless or not, it’s an entertaining metaphor.” “Ah, Astra, I can see that you’re still the life of any party.” Here he winks at his daughter, smirking.

(Faculty) “Well, it does offer so many easy conversation starters,” Isolde says as she pours herself a glass of wine. “Such as, ‘My goodness, but you have big feet,’ or perhaps, ‘I suppose you’re still waiting to fill those shoes of yours.’” She sips at the wine, then helps herself to mashed potatoes.

(Faculty) “Got it from you old man.” Not at all masking the bitterness, Astra takes another drink of the pumpkin juice without making so much as a face. “Maybe I can say that I’m trying to fill your footsteps, but I’d be afraid of catching some worm or another if I walked where you did.” Turning her head away from Gerald, she stifles a yawn before playing with the food on her plate. Pushing some beans around with a fork, she shrugs to herself.

(Faculty) Melvina watches Astra with a quiet, fond sort of smile; her smirk having faded in to something more quiet, the mischief in her eyes having eased back in to seriousness. “It isn’t under the lake this year, no. Though that does remind me, in fact. Professor Fallon,” she says, turning her gaze toward Avery. “If you have some time later this evening, I’d like to discuss something with you.”

(Faculty) “Melvina, do I need to start practicing charms to make instruments float this year? Please do cue us in a bit more this time, I’m still drying out my piano from the last one.” Darius raises an eyebrow.

“Well, all, I think I shall retire for the evening. You may all, of course, stay to enjoy the wonderful meal provided for us. First years will need to be escorted to their common rooms by their prefects, but with all the catching up being done I’m sure there will be plenty of time to fill your bellies further. Again, welcome to Hogwarts. Tomorrow, we learn.” Melvina says simply, her voice filling the hall at a comfortable volume despite the need to speak over everyone else. “Sweet dreams, all,” she says, stepping down from the faculty dias. “When they find you.”

Ion Garnent opened the door to the compartment excitedly, peering around and finding himself only a little disappointed it was empty. Nevertheless he continued in, dragging his heavy trunk and getting it settled with a sigh, before flopping down on the seat closest to the window, staring excitedly out as he waited for the train to start moving.

Filan Naril comes shuffling through the halls, dragging his own truck behind him. He’s passing the doors to the compartments slowly, peering inside each and every one before he continues on his trek to find a seat. Even though the youth seems calm at the moment, there’s an air of excitement hanging about him. He pauses at the door to the second compartment, peering curiously at the person inside, “Hullo.”

Having managed to shrug his brother off of his trail, Chester makes his way down the train corridor, peeking into the second one. “Hi,” he greets dully to Filan before making his way unceremoniously inside and sitting down as close to the window as he can get. “Are you new, too?” he asks quietly, seeming a bit subdued.

Angus Fallon grabs his trunk and hefts it to an overhead bin, then does the same for Venora and Edern. Then he turns and grins at the other two, “Dibs on a window seat,” then tears off down the isle till he finds an empty row and crowds near the window, Venora follows, but takes the time to smile at the other students as she does and squeezes in beside her brother, “Come on Edern. We’ll make room for you too!”

Edern Fallon nods and follows his sister to their seat.

Ion glanced at each of the new occupants and grinned, happy to see that the once empty compartment was quickly filling up. “Hey ‘Lan, don’t dally in the doorway, come sit with us.” He called to the only boy he knew, before turning to the others and answering the shy boy’s question. “Yeah, this is my first year here. The rest of you are new too? I’m Ion Garnent, by the way, nice to meet you all.”

Filan Naril blinks at the sound of his name, before the mild confusement fades and changes into an excited look. “Heya Ion! Didn’t think I’d bump into you here.” And in he strolls, putting up much a fight to get his trunk settled before helping himself to a seat. “I’m so excited, aren’t you? In a few hours we’ll be at hogwarts.” And as more people come in, he gives an excited wiggle of his fingers, “First time too?”

Chester says, “I’m Chester Blake,” said boy speaks up a bit louder now, glancing at the others pouring into the compartment. “Do you know what house you want to be?” Chester asks casually, looking about. “By the way, we shouldn’t let my brother in. I don’t want him in here with us.” The boy scoots back into his seat and slouches a bit as he leans on the window a bit.”

“I’m Chester Blake,” said boy speaks up a bit louder now, glancing at the others pouring into the compartment. “Do you know what house you want to be?” Chester asks casually, looking about. “By the way, we shouldn’t let my brother in. I don’t want him in here with us.” The boy scoots back into his seat and slouches a bit as he leans on the window a bit.

If anyone else had crowded three to a seat, Angus would have unceremoniously shoved them off. But Venora and Edern were always the exceptions. Besides, he couldn’t imagine a first day with Ven on one side, and Ed on the other. “Hey, look! See the smoke from the engine Vennie?” Venora grins as she follows her brother’s finger, “If only we hadn’t got caught climbing up there. Hey!” She stands and calls across the car, narrowing her eyes at Filan. “Haven’t I met you? Outside the sweet shop? I’m Venora Fallon. These are my brothers, Angus and Edern.”

The rather small lad looks up as he’s spoken to, offering a rather enthusiastic nod to Venora’s question, “I think I saw you in the ice cream shop, if I remember right…right? There was that other lad, too…I can’t remember who he was…” He drifts off at a thought, reaching up to scratch at the side of his head, “Oh, anyway, I’m Filan Naril, nice to meet you lot.”

“I know, I can’t wait! But the train ride should be fun; I’m so used to going by floo that I never get to travel like this.” Ion responded to Filan, fingers unconsciously playing with the key around his neck in excitement. “As for which House I want to be in.. My mum’s a Slytherin and my dad’s a Hufflepuff, so either of those would be my choice.” He spares a moment to smile at the new occupants.

“My parents were both Slytherins,” Chester mentions and shrugs. “I don’t know if I’ll be in Slytherin. I guess if the hat thinks I should be. I hear the other houses are nice, too.” Mild Chester seems to be almost apathetic about which house he will be sorted to. “Are you guys related or something?” he asks the triplets bluntly.

Venora Fallon nods, “Right. I had my first ice-cream. We tried one of each, didn’t we?” She grins smugly at her brothers, proud to have tasted this British ice-cream treat before they did. “I don’t know what House I want. I wanted Slytherin, like Auntie Kee. But I guess I don’t care what I get. Father was Ravenclaw, so was our sister. I don’t know what mother was. Edern? Do you remember?”

Edern Fallon nods ‘no’.

Filan Naril perks up from his seat where he squirms a bit at the excitement, “Um…my Da was in Gryffindor, my brother was in Ravenclaw…and my other brother’s on his last year–he’s a Gryffindor, and sis’s a hufflepuff.” He offers a sheepish look, squirming a bit more in his seat. “I wonder how long the ride is.”

“My parents told me that all the Houses are nice, so no matter what you won’t end up somewhere unhappy.” Ion responds encouragingly to Chester; the poor kid didn’t seem like he had much energy in him. “I’m Ion Garnent, by the way.” He introduces himself to the triplets. “You guys know ‘Lan, too? I guess the candy store is a regular hangout.” He teases lightly.

Angus pipes up, turning from the window, “That’s what our sister says. But our neighbor says only ruffians, deadbeats, and rotters go to Slytherin.” He grins at the others, “She’s sure I’ll end up there, Vennie and Eddie too.” Angus seems well pleased with Mrs. Elderberry’s prediction for the ‘Fallon miscreants’. She sighs, “You know she’s not right, Angus. Aunt Kee and Aunt Lizbeth and Aunt Julie were all Slytherins. And Emma was their best friend, even if she was Ravenclaw. I don’t care which House I get, really.”

Filan Naril chews on his bottom lip as he listens to the others talk, perking up to offer his own bit of insight. “My brother Will says that the houses are all okay, he’s got friends in every single on of ‘em, but you’re always gonna bump into someone you don’t like. So I think it’s pointless in worrying about which house you get. I think as long as there’s a nice warm bed waiting for me, I’ll be happy no matter what.”

Venora Fallon nods at Filan, “That’s what our Father says, too. He said so, right in front of our neighbor. Said she was proof that Ravenclaw gets it’s share of rotters, too. Didn’t he Edern?”

Edern Fallon nods again, this time a ‘yes’.

Ion Garnent frowns at Agnus, confused and a little taken aback by his words. “Your neighbor said that? It’s not very nice; my mum’s really smart and kind, so obviously there can’t be anything wrong with that House.” He counters, backing up Venora’s opinion. “I wouldn’t think Hogwarts would accept bad people, anyways.”

Venora Fallon grins at Ion, “Don’t worry. Angus doesn’t really believe Mrs. Elderberry. He knows lots of Slytherins that are delicious. Our Dad used to teach Slytherins. And Gryffindors. He loved them both.” She winks, “Mrs. E is just cross because we accidentally set her lawn on fire.”

Filan Naril pushes himself to his feet and stretches, “Will you watch my stuff? I’m gonna walk a bit before we get going, I wanna stretch a bit.” He offers a wave before he sneaks out of the compartment.

“Don’t worry about it, I got you covered, ‘Lan.” Ion waves as the other boy leaves before returning to his conversation, though he seems a little weary of Venora. What sort of girl describes other people as ‘delicious’? “How’d you set her lawn on fire? I guess I could understand why she’d be upset, but if it was an accident than there’s no reason for her to be a troll about it.”

Venora Fallon leans back against the seat, half standing, half kneeling to be able to see above the heads of other students. “Well. We threw a dung-bomb over there.” Angus interrupts with a grin, “So that part wasn’t an accident. But she was always threatening to hurt Spot and Rover, wasn’t she Ed?” Venora picks up again, “We didn’t think the dung-bomb would start a fire.” Her eyes twinkle a bit as she glances, slyly, at the quiet triplet, “Of course, we let Edern tinker with it a bit, first.”

Venora Fallon giggles as they roll into Hogsmead station. “Look everyone!” She points out the window at an old witch in mustard colored robes hurrying away from the tracks, “There’s our neighbor.”

Ion Garnent dashes to the window, looking out with wide blue eyes. “Wow, I can’t believe we’re here already! Come on, let’s hurry on out.” He quickly starts pulling his luggage out, before pausing for a moment as a problem occurs to him. “Hey guys, ‘Lan isn’t back yet. Think you guys can help me carry his stuff, too?” He asks sheepishly.

“I think we’re just supposed to leave it here,” Chester comments, standing up and looking out the compartment. “Hey, can you help me?” he calls to a prefect who is strutting down the corridor. “How are we supposed to get all of our stuff to the school?” The prefeect sighs. “Just leave it there. It will be brought to the school for you.” Chester nods and turns back in with a shrug, nearly falling over as the train stops with a lurch.

Venora Fallon stands, stretching, “I still think it’s funny, going all the way to London just to take a train back home.” Angus climbs over her, reaching for their trunks, “Yeah, but would you have missed the ride, and just settled for meeting everyone at the station, Ven?” Venora grasps her trunk, shifts a small wicker box deep into her robes, only to drop her trunk with a thud as the prefect tells them to leave everything. “Nice,” she comments, “I hadn’t wanted to lug all that all the way to the Castle.”

Nate Hunter bites his lip as Briony hits her head. Laughing would be bad. He clears his throat instead and follows the girl out of the compartment, continuing to bite his bottom lip.

Venora Fallon steps out onto the platform she knows as well as she knows her own hand. But somehow it all seems different, now that she’s a Hogwarts student, and not just a child of Hogsmeade.

The students begin to pour out of the train, and Bonnie stands at the end of the platform, waving her arms. “First years, gather around me. Other years, straight to the carriages please! In an orderly fashion, if you please!” she yells to a group of boisterous Slytherins passing by. “Alright, first years, join here! We’ll leave for the boats once you have all arrived!” She watches as the students excitedly mill around, a smile fixed on her face.

Disembarking, dragging her copious amounts of baggage behind, Saphia sticks with Briony, continuing to ask worried questions about her head and informing her that she should really see the nurse about it. But she can’t do it too much, given that lugging so much luggage is leaving her short of breath. “It’ll all be … good… once we reach the carriages…”

Ion Garnent stretches as he exits the train, glancing around at the nice scenery. “Wow, it’s beautiful here..” He comments, before Bonnie’s announcement cuts through the air. Excited, he quickly heads over to stand around her, looking to the other first years and trying not to grin too hard.

“Mum will just tell me I’ve bumped my head and that I shouldn’t be worried about it,” Briony tells the Ravenclaw with a roll of her eyes. It seems apparent that Briony is now used to bumping her head on things, though she clearly is not pleased about this fact. She hangs behind for a moment, waiting to see if she can’t find Gabe before boarding a carriage, but as she runs into Kalynn instead, she grins and the two girls get into a carriage.

Kara Raine exits the train, talking quite excitedly with a fellow Ravenclaw. “Didn’t expect it really, knew that they needed a new captain with Noemie graduating and all.” Attention is diverted at the announcement, before with a grin, the fourth year turns toward the carriages.

Orderly is not a fashion to which the Fallon triplets are accustomed. Oh, Edern may be able to manage it, but Venora and Angus are far to excited to do anything but stumble over one another as they race to stand before Bonnie. Halfway there, after nudging by several older students they recalled that particular aspect of the teacher’s orders and did try to slow down. They just didn’t manage quite well and skidded to a stop before the woman, Venora beaming up at her, before turning to Ion. “Tis beautiful here. Our house is just over that rise there. Come, stand by us Ion.”

Olivia is smiling cheerfully as she steps off of the train, waiting for Evan before she makes her way out to the carriages. “Should we wait for Constance?” she asks quietly, her voice getting lost as she makes her way toward the carriages quickly.

Andy Carver hops off the Hogwarts Express, his coat dangling from his arm and his trunk in hand. He takes a deep breath, excited for a new school year and silently follows the crowd towards one of the carriages.

Glad to be done the train ride, Nate hops off the train, glances at the first years and then scuttles towards the carriages, trunk in tow.

Evan Geroff follows Olivia off the train, stepping quickly out of the way of the rest of the departing passengers. He stays quiet for the familiar announcement, then; “It looks like she’s finding some of her friends. Let’s get a carriage.”

As the older students all filter away into the carriages toward the school, Bonnie grins at the first years. “Follow me, and be lively. If you get lost, there’s no telling when we’ll find you again, and then how will you explain to your parents why you missed your own sorting?” Bonnie lets out a little grin and turns. “Quickly, quickly!” she calls, heading down the path toward the shore of the lake.

The fleet pushes off from shore in near unison. As the boats progress silently through the water, they leave no wake behind. Drifting along, the boats travel in an unhurried fashion, moving over the darkened waters in a loose group, but always remaining together. The chilly night’s breeze is more apparent here upon the lake.

As the fleet continues forward, the southern shore recedes into the distance, and is lost in loose tendrils of smoky fog. The northern shore is not yet in view, concealed as it is by a thicker blanket of pale haze. The air is cooler over the lake, and as the boats drift further onto the water, there a more pronounced breeze that nips through robe and sweater alike.

“Please take care not to fall out! There’ll be no helping you if the squid gets you!” Bonnie warns the group ominously, then continuing to chatter on about all the wonderful things about Ravenclaw house.

The fleet has begun to move through the steadily increasing fog now, reducing visibility to a scant metre or two. Dim lights from the lanterns on the other boats of the fleet can be seen, flickering softly in the wind. The breeze is gentle, but consistent and quite cold out here upon the nearly still nighttime waters, where is there is no shelter and no warming fire. The only company is the steady rocking of the boats and the dim lights of boat lanterns.

The fleet has finally begun to leave the haze behind, although the mist tries vainly to cling to the boats and it still laps at those lingering in the rear. The Forbidden Forest encroaches upon the eastern shoreline, bordered by grey mist and shadow. The northern shore has come into view with the castle of Hogwarts silhouetted against the hills beyond; the immense towers rise up in stern defiance to the centuries they have weathered. Few windows break the even stone facade of the castle walls, preserving the mysteries within from prying eyes. However, those few windows are merrily lit from within those hallowed halls, revealing the welcoming warmth that can be found within, a homecoming to those who have made a long journey. Ivy and similar plants sprawl across the walls of the castle, their unruly density hinting at the senescence of the walls themselves. The breeze is still cold, nipping at the boats and rustling over the water.

“The squid?” Ion whispers nervously.

“Told you there was a squid.” Rowan whispers to nobody in particular, apparently regardless of whether he actually told them any such thing. “What do you think it eats, in this kind of lake, huh?”

“There’s a squid in the lake?” Chester replies, his eyes growing wide. He instinctively scoots in from the center.

The fleet has begun to pick up speed, accelerating rapidly towards the northern shore. Clear of fog, all that remains of the distant haze is what marks the barriers to the southern and eastern shores, the mist lapping on top of the water but the fleet has now broken free of its grasp. Remarkably, the boats still leave no wake to mark their passage across the water. The speed causes the brisk air to hurtle past, reducing the apparent temperature further and setting the lantern lights to flickering even more, though none of them have gone out.

The squid! She’d forgotten about the squid! Venora leans over a side of the boat, peering into the murky depths of the lake. “Come on little squiddy!” Venora whispers, “Let’s have a look.” Angus just sighs and grabs hold of Venora‘s cloak to keep her well in the boat, used to his sister’s reactions by now.

Rising suddenly as through from beneath the water, the looming bulk of Hogwarts Castle blots out the evening sky and casts a dense shadow over the shoreline, broken only by the steady glow of the lights from within a large section of the building. The boats have begun to decelerate now, but are still moving rapidly as they skim towards the darkness ahead. As it grows steadily darker, the night air takes on a crisper and ever more frigid bite.

The fleet has now passed into the shadow cast by the Castle and descended into absolute darkness, evading the dancing lights that reflected from the windows above. The lantern lights, which have remained so faithful during the journey, have abruptly faded away. Only the steady flow of cold night air moving past indicates that the boats are still moving; there is no other sensation of motion.

“I have to say, if anyone could take on the squid, it’s you Venora.” Ion laughs, relaxing a little more.

The fleet has halted at the lakeshore just below the castle, the transition from movement to rest having occurred smoothly, but without warning. Dim reflected light illuminates a stone stairway, worn smooth with age and use, with steps rising for two metres before disappearing over the cliff top. You can now DISEMBARK.

“I’m sure it’s a lovely thing. I’ve never heard of a Hogwarts student being eaten by it. Emmaline says they used to play with it’s tentacles. Or something.” She frowns, glancing at Edern, “Do you remember? Anyway…we’re here!”

For a moment, Rowan almost looks insulted. “I could, too!” He protests, almost hurt, adjusting his glasses and peering one last time into the murky depths before springing out of the boat, still glaring at Ion. A pause, and he grabs out for his brother. “Hey, Chesty, we’re almost real students now.”

“Look lively, look lively!” Bonnie calls to the students, waiting for a moment before they’ve all disembarked from the boats. None fell in this time. “Nice to see you’ve all survived!” she calls cheerfully, waving an arm as she begins up the hill toward the school.

“Don’t call me that,” Chester replies out of habit and sighs a bit. “I hope you’re not in my house Rowan. I’m tired of being asked if we’re twins.”

Chesty? Angus looks at the other boy, eyebrows raised. He hadn’t thought Chester would like that nickname. “Is your brother Rowie, then?” Venora glances up at the boys and grins.

“You can go ‘head and call him that,” Chester replies, grinning a bit. “But my name isn’t Chesty. It’s Chester.” The boy nods solemnly.

“I don’t doubt that you could.” Ion placates Rowan, surprised at the outburst before following closer to the triplets. “I wish we could have spent more time on the boats.. it was so cool, how they gliding across the water like that!” He chatters at them wistfully, too caught up in that trip to appreciate the castle.

An incredibly tall tan-skinned woman in jade robes stands before the fire, hands somewhat unconciously smoothing out the front of her robes. At the sound of the first years entering, she turns, already rigid posture improving with the squaring of her shoulders. The light of fire reflects off of her glasses, making her expression somewhat hard to read, but her mouth does turn upward ever so minutely at the corners. “Welcome to Hogwarts, where you will begin your magical education.” Her head tilts just a bit, changing the angle so that her eyes are visable, and considerably softening her countenance. “Shortly we will enter the Great Hall and begin the Sorting Ceremony. I expect you all to be on your very best behavior. This is your chance to make a good first impression.”

“Rowie, is it?” Venora grins at Rowan, “I’m sure you could take on the squid almost as well as me.” Angus snickers, but takes a step away. If his sister is going to start something just before they’re sorted, well she was on her own. Probably. Mostly. Maybe. Anyway, Angus grins as the teacher walks up, Venora forgotten for a moment. “Aunt Kee! I didn’t know you would be the one to take us inside! Brilliant!”

Rowan shrugs his shoulders vaguely, still not quite paying attention to everything – only the relevant portions, where by ‘relevant’, we mean… uh… hey, look, is that an ant on the floor? Would he get in trouble if he did a cartwheel? Finally, something wakes him up, and he looks up at Keelan admiringly, only further offering a hushed, “You shouldn’t have come this year, Chesty. Stealin’ my turn at school.” He doesn’t seem terribly annoyed, though perhaps a little miffed that his mother took so little time getting pregnant. Registering Keelan’s words finally, though, he straightens himself up a bit, adjusts his glasses, and flattens his hair.

“Is this the brother you were talking about, Chester?” Ion asks, looking between the two of them with an air of uncertaintly. They sure didn’t act very brotherly. He doesn’t bother trying to sort out his appearence like some of the others, unconcerned with how he looks. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ion Garnent.”

“Yeah,” Chester replies carefully, glancing over to Rowan. “We’re not twins.” He states this rather forcefully as he looks to Ion. Chester is about to speak more, but the weight of the present situation seems to impress itself on him, and he gulps a bit, looking at the ominous doors with pinkened cheeks.

For a moment, Rowan looks a touch miffed. After a moment, he grabs at Chester’s arm again, whispering, “How come you got all the friends? I don’t want to have to fight you for them.” This might seem perfectly logical to him, even if it seems like something of a leap to everyone else. After a moment, he adds, “I’m older. It’s my birthday soon.” Another pause. “You still owe me a present, Chesty, even if we’re at school now.”

Venora Fallon shakes her head. “Too bad. It’s great being multiple, isn’t it?” She glances for confirmation to Edern and Angus. Angus nods quickly, “Course it is. Pity, really, Chester. You’d like each other more if you were twins.”

Keelan Walsh continues. “I am Professor Keelan Walsh, and I will be teaching you the fine subject of Herbology, as well as acting as Head of House for those of you who are sorted into the prestigious house of Slytherin.” Her hands clasp, and then unclasp, and her expression threatens to dissolve into something of an amused smirk at Angus, but she manages not to look too, well… human about it. “I couldn’t miss the opportunity to introduce such a promising class of first years to the school.” At this the woman’s gaze meets not only the Fallon triplets but that of Batrius Lennox. Goodness, Keelan was getting old. “In any event, once we are in the Hall I’ll call you by name to be Sorted, at which point I expect you’ll all be very respectful of your fellow students and let them be Sorted without trying to call attention to yourselves.” She gestures then. “If you’ll follow me?”

“You never got me one!” Chester asserts loudly, then looking in Keelan’s direction uncertainly. “I’m not giving you any presents. As Keelan beckons, Chester walks forward with her, his eyes widening a bit, perhaps in fear, or likely in anticipation.

“Hey, no need to get upset. Everyone can be friends with each other, you know.” Ion looks at Chester, a concerned expression on his face, before following after the professor.

Venora Fallon holds tightly to her brothers’ hands as they slip into the hall, following their “Aunt” Keelan. For a moment, she’s as wide-eyed and awe-struck as any Firstie. A slow smile spreads across her face and she lets Angus and Edern’s hands fall. This was it. She was finally here. She finally understood all the stories Emmaline had told her about Hogwarts. Another glance at Keelan has the girl hoping, once again, to be sorted Slytherin. But whichever. It was school. It was going to be brilliant….

Keelan Walsh strides into the Great Hall looking very much like she does every year, just standing and moving rather than sitting and occasionally giving The Eye to the Ravenclaws. Oh, and there is a group of short (mostly) and Unsorted students following along behind her. The Professor comes to rest near a stool on which rests an incredibly old and patched hat, looking very much as though someone had simply forgotten to take it with them when they left. She turns to face the first years, clasping her hands in front of her and standing rather quietly. In fact, for a moment it seems as if she’s simply forgotten what to do next, if not for the fact that she looks exactly like she knows what she’s doing.

Ion Garnent lets his gaze roam around the room, suddenly a little intimidated by all the older students and professors, edging in a little close to the other unsorted students. He tries to keep his posture straight and not bounce on his heels like a child, as his mother taught him, but it’s so hard when he’s this close to being sorted and starting his first year at Hogwarts.

For a moment, Rowan looks – intimidated? Concerned? Frightened, perhaps? His eyes fix first on each of the tables in turn, taking in the number of students (and, for that matter, Professors) at each of them. He doesn’t speak this time, not even to jestingly tease his brother again. After a moment, however, in defiance of his pretence of good manners, he does twirl around a little, and seems tempted to try some sort of gymnastic tumble in front of the hall.

For the first time, Chester almost seems to seek out the comfort of being near his brother, stepping just slightly closer as he eyes the hat leerily. The boy does not say anything or even show any affection to Rowan, but he does look very nervous as he stands with the rest of the first years.

Keelan Walsh listens to this year’s song, eyes on the new first years, and pulls a roll of parchment out of presumably a pocket. When the Sorting Hat has finished, she smiles, briefly. Without particular flair, the woman reads off the first name, and a little redheaded girl steps up nervously to become the first “Slytherin!” of the night. The next goes to “Hufflepuff!”.

Next comes the younger “Blake, Chester!” as Keelan continues down the line.

Chester doesn’t expect to be before his older brother, and he looks a bit startled as he steps forward, looking around, sitting down on the seat and pulling the hat low on his head, his curls sticking out from under it, getting in his eyes.

Chester is sorted to Hufflepuff and he seems to breathe a sigh of relief, stepping down and putting the hat up where it belongs before he practically runs over to Hufflepuff table, sitting down as quickly as he can.

Keelan Walsh smiles politely at the newly Sorted student and calls out for his elder brother, “Blake, Rowan!”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood tries not to look too much like he might find the girls’ conversation ridiculous and that it might make him sick all over, and instead rather sullenly watches the first years. Although, to be honest, Charlie does not have the most stoic face, and an eyeroll or two escape him. Girls. At the appropriate time, Charlie applauds the new arrivals, but he doesn’t really appear to be overly excited, even as he bothers with a “Welcome to Hufflepuff.” Really. Welcome. Honest.

Rowan stares, wide-eyed at the hat. “It spoke.” He whispers, to whoever happens to be closest to him. “I mean, it sang. It sang, and it spoke. Hats aren’t supposed to do that.” A pause. “Oh, yeah, it’s magic, huh?” Good one, Rowan. As his name is called, he seems stunned, though he runs – or at least, walks very quickly and exhuberantly – to the hat, pulling it down onto his head, with more than a little bit of trepidation.

(Hufflepuff) “It might be better with more of an age difference,” Alice comments, head turning for a moment to look as another Hufflepuff is called. But her attention quickly goes back. “When is the wedding? Will you be in it?” That one, at least, must be directed to Constance; anyway, she has lowered her voice now.

(Hufflepuff) Chester looks about, a little uncertainly as he gets acquainted with the faces of his new housemates. “Hullo,” he greets them with a bit of a smile, looking up with interest to see where his brother is sorted.

(Hufflepuff) “Of COURSE I’m going to be in it!” Constance tells her friend with a grin. “I’m related, after all, how could she not put me in it?” Constance seems to be joking with this statement as she looks happy and cheerful, greeting the newcomer. “Your sister was away all summer, wasn’t she, Alice? Working with your Aunt?”

Keelan Walsh calls up three more children as the Hat calls out “Ravenclaw!” twice and then another “Slytherin!” is Sorted. Reading over the next name, a smile that the first years shouldn’t get too used to spreads across Keelan‘s face. “Fallon, Angus!” is thusly summoned, and the child goes to “Hufflepuff!”

“Well… I think you’re broken!” Rowan hisses almost spitefully to the hat, though he looks around uncertainly for what to do next. Is he supposed to remove the hat? Right, right. With that, he hurries off to the Gryffindor table.

Still looking for all intents and purposes warm and inviting, Keelan Walsh proceeds to “Fallon, Edern!”

Edern Fallon walks up to the Sorting Hat, a bit apprehensive, eyeing it wearily – he had heard a lot about it, but to actually meet it and place a thinking cap on his head? He hadn’t even had the chance to inspect it. Still, he takes a deep breath and sits down, pulling the hat down onto his head – though not too far down.

Smiling broadly and with great pride, Edern joins the long table on the side where a cheering House greets him. He is more than pleased to be placed with his Aunt Kee’s House, even if it means he isn’t with his brother.

(Hufflepuff) Alice Wexler nods, glances briefly at another new Hufflepuff, then nods again to Constance. “Yeah, she was. I didn’t see her much.” This thought pleases her briefly; Alice got more attention! “She’s back here now, of course.”

Keelan Walsh straightens a bit and nods at the boy approvingly before calling up “Fallon, Venora!”

Venora Fallon‘s smile morphs into a wide grin as she steps out from the protection of the gaggle of first years, shoulders straight and head high. Glancing to her brothers for a moment, she climbs the stairs and gives a little wave to Keelan Walsh. She sits neatly on the chair and dons the hat, not minding as it falls over her eyes. She sits, unmoving, but for her fingers crossing in her lap.

(Hufflepuff) “Of course. I see her over at Gryffindor table. She got really tall! How odd.” Constance shakes her head and then brushes some hair out of her face. “Maybe mum will let you stay at our house next summer some if she’s at home. There aren’t less people, but it would be so much fun, don’t you think?” The girl beams at the idea, waving down the table at Chester cheerfully.

Ravenclaw! Emmaline would be pleased. Oh, Venora wished her brothers would have been sorted to the same House! It would be ever so much more fun with Edern and Angus at her side. Still…Ravenclaw was very good. And they were going to have fun, no matter what. They’d promised Father. She fumbles the hat off her head, placing it haphazardly back on the stool then turns to face her new housemates with a wide, crooked grin.

If Keelan‘s face falters at the Hat’s pronouncement, it is merely momentary, though perceptive students may note a bit of a twitch going in her left eyebrow even as she smiles at Venora. More parchment is unrolled, and “Garnent, Ion!” is asked to come forth.

Ions fingers reach up to unconsciously play with the key around his neck as his name is called, and boldly he steps up to the hat. His eyes flicker towards the already sorted first years with an overly serious expression on his face, before taking a seat on the stool and placing the hat on his head, waiting anxiously.

(Hufflepuff) “That would be so much fun!” Alice agrees. “You have even more people. Would there be room?” She pauses, but then another thought hits her, and she asks again, “Do you think our parents would let us? We are already living right near each other.”

Ion Garnent blinks in surprise, obviously sorted into a house he wasnt expecting, but still pleased over the choice. In his excitement to get to his table he nearly forgets to take the Hat off, and has to backtrack a few steps in order to return it. Any sense of etiquette is lost as he takes his seat at the table of his new House.

(Hufflepuff) “Of course there would be room! You could share my bed!” Constance seems to see no problem with this arrangement, even if there might be wedding-type festivities making the house more crowded. “Why would our parents have a problem with it? It’s different when you stay at someone else’s house, and wouldn’t your dad be glad at not having to keep track of you as well as all your siblings?” Constance shrugs at this and grins about. “Hey, Charlie, are we going to do better at Quidditch this year? I think we should win.”

Three more nervous eleven year olds take their turn. One spends upwards of five minutes to become a “Slytherin!”, and then in quick succession a pair of coustins is split between “Gryffindor!” and “Hufflepuff!” With no small amount of pride in her voice, Keelan calls “Lennox, Batrius!” A young boy steps up, gives a wide grin to the Professor, and then sits with the Hat. He fidgets after a moment, frowns briefly, but then something of a wicked smile surfaces as the Hat announces, “Ravenclaw!”. Quickly, Batrius Lennox actually tips the hat at Keelan, who looks very much like she just choked on a frog, sets it on the stool, and scampers off to join his new housemates.

With a strained voice, then, Keelan calls up an entire passel of students, three of which join “Slytherin!”, two more go to “Gryffindor!”, and one each for “Hufflepuff!” and “Ravenclaw!” As the amount of scroll Keelan has shrinks and the amount dangling toward the floor lengthens, she announces, “Taber, Nell!”

Nell Taber fairly skips up to the hat, all traces of nervousness hidden as she carefully pats her hair, then waves to the watching crowd before putting it on.

(Hufflepuff) Alice Wexler laughs quietly. “I suppose you’re right. If your parents won’t mind, I’ll ask.. maybe not quite yet, though.” It’s still a bit early in the school year to worry about summer again. As Constance asks about quidditch, Alice‘s attention wanders back to the sorting that seems to be occuring, finding the new first years at least a little more interesting.

Nell looks a bit startled, but she carefully places the hat down, then takes a small curtsy for the watching crowd, before running off to her new table.

Keelan Walsh calls two more students, both of whom end up in “Slytherin!”

(Hufflepuff) Angharad says, “Welcome to Hufflepuff, Nell!”

Keelan Walsh claps, briefly, as the last child is Sorted, but this seems to serve the purpose of re-rolling the scroll rather than as applause. This done, she hoists the stool, hat still perched on it, and sets it off to the side before finally taking her seat with the other faculty members.

(Hufflepuff) “I’m pleased to meet you,” Nell says politely, looking around the table.”Er, Hufflepuffs are really secretly special, aren’t they?”

As the Sorting itself concludes, Astra rises from her seat at the faculty table and stands to face the vast hall and its many occupants. There’s a beat between her standing up and her actual address of the students, but when she does speak it is clear and calm, using the natural acoustics of the room to make herself heard rather than magical spells. Turning to nod at Keelan, she smiles lightly to the other woman before repeating the gesture to Bonnie. “Thank you Professor Walsh for your help with the Sorting and my gratitude to Professor Kensington for your assistance with bringing the first years safely to the school, it’s always an exciting task.” Addressing the school again, the Headmistress draws herself up and continues. “I’m very glad to see you all back and hope that you’ve had a wonderful summer. For our new students, welcome to your new home. I’m sure that your fellow House mates will help you get settled in quickly and comfortably.” Pausing to look at the
many faces, some new and many familiar, she grins sharply and gives a moment before she launches on.

(Hufflepuff) “Of course they are,” Olivia mentions with a bit of dismay at the new girl, shaking her head a bit, quickly quieting down as she looks up toward the headmistress.

(Hufflepuff) “Oh, good!” Nell says, with a relieved smile. “I’m very special. My parents both say so. My brother said the Slytherins were the best, but I’m better then him, so if I’m here this must be better.”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood is sarcastic because he’s sulky(normally he’s got at least some pride), “Oh, yes, really special. We’ve got a lot of paintings of badgers and everything.” What an excellent Prefect he makes. “Now hush up and listen to Professor Rathe.” He leans back on the bench, crossing his arms and turning his face (which may as well be in a full on pout, honestly), toward the faculty table.

(Hufflepuff) Constance‘s eyebrows raise as she looks toward Alice after Nell’s statement, obviously a little puzzled at this girl. She chooses not to say anything at this moment, however, valuing the good opinion of the prefect who sits so near.

The mood of her tone sobers but she continues the speech with the same efficient crisp pace. “For our returning students who remember Headmistress Prichard, I bring sorry news. It was all of our hopes that she would be returning to us this year, but she will not be returning in the foreseeable future. Rest assured the moment I hear any word, I will share it with the entire school.” Clearing her throat, Astra reaches for a goblet and takes a sip from the liquid before continuing. “There have been only a few minor changes to our staff this year.” “We welcome back Professors Helit, Addison, Fallon, and Walsh as our Heads of Houses. It is our sincere hope that they will continue to fill these roles for many years.” “Professor Calwern will not be returning as Charms Professor and so Professor Austin will continue as our Charms Professor. Professor Rathe stepped down from Potions and has taken over teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, good luck to him.” “Finally, please welcome Professor Orwell Gadds as our newest Potions instructor.” Finishing up with that, she takes no breather yet but picks up with a more pleasant manner and almost playful manner. “I’m sure the seventh years are excited to know who will become the Head Boy and Head Girl for this year.” Taking delight in this news, Astra purposely pauses to sip from the goblet in her hand and glance over the various tables. “Congratulations are in order to Slytherin Prefect, Evan Geroff who is Head Boy this year and no less congratulations are in order to Hufflepuff’s very own Olivia Baxtor.” Only now does the woman allow herself a brief respite to grin widely and watch any reactions that might take place.

(Hufflepuff) Nell starts clapping, pleased to see someone from her table recognized even if she isn’t clear what exactly is going on due to her chatting.

Olivia Baxtor is blatantly shocked as she is announced as the seventh year head girl, her eyes wide as she covers her mouth with her hand, looking around the Great Hall in utter shock. Her shocked expression changes from a shocked expression to a grin as she spots Evan across at the Slytherin table and she giggles a little, giving a bit of a curtsey and a little wave to everyone in the hall before sitting down again quickly, obviously still a little in shock.

(Hufflepuff) Angharad O‘Duibhleargain claps as well, smiling.

Evan Geroff truly was waiting for the announcement as to who would be chosen, for Head Boy at least, but his quick smile at the news is halted as soon as Olivia is named. He stands, looking toward her with a wide grin and a mouthed “Congratulations!”, before nodding to acknowledge the rest of the hall and resuming his seat.

Once things have settled back down, Astra clears her throat. “Of course, school wouldn’t be school without a list of rules and regulations now would it? Your parents have charged us with the task of taking care of you and so we do our best to imitate them.” “I know you’re all *thrilled* over that!” The dry humor comes slowly to her, but she finally seems to be getting into the good spirits of the Sorting feast. “With that said I’m charged with telling you all that a list of banned items is posted on the Caretaker’s office door and you’d do well to familiarize yourself with it. In addition, there is to be no running in the hallways.” “Use of magic in the hallways or on the outside grounds without supervision or explicit permission by a teacher is strictly prohibited and will be dealt with accordingly.” “As usual, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that – Forbidden and trespassers *will* be harshly dealt with.” “Third year students and above are reminded to have their
permission slips to Hogsmeade signed and ready for the first weekend. Anyone who doesn’t have this will not be allowed off school grounds.” Clearing her throat, she looks around the hall. “Returning students know how I deal with rule breakers, I trust none of you will want to come to my office?” “Don’t worry, you’ll get to eat soon, but I have a few more announcements to make.”

(Hufflepuff) Alice Wexler has turned back to look toward Olivia, and claps more enthusiastically than her demeanor usually leads her too, smiling at Olivia as she sits again.

(Hufflepuff) Olivia is still shocked as she drops back into her seat, looking about the table at the contragulatory expressions, and she blushes a deep red, grinning at those around her. “Thanks,” she replies quietly, with a grin still plastered sillily across her face.

(Hufflepuff) Constance Geroff‘s cheers come the loudest of anyone around as both her brother and his fiancee are announced as the head boy and girl positions. She cheers loud enough that it seems to echo back several times over, only stopping when she throws an exhuberant hug around Olivia’s middle as she sits down at the table again. “I just knew Evan would get it! I’m SO glad that you’ve got it, too, Olivia!”

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood claps hardily despite the fact that he’s about as cheerful as a dementor with nobody to soul-suck. Or a boy with nobody to face-suck, which is what he is. “Congratulations” comes his monotone. It isn’t as if he’s ever made especial friends with Olivia. Or anyone off the Quidditch team. Or most of the people on. Or inanimate objects, even.

Waiting for about a minute to let students discuss among themselves, Astra finally holds up her hand for attention. “A few last minute notices.” “I want to again congratulate Slytherin on winning the House Cup last year and congratulations again to Ravenclaw for victory in attaining the Quidditch Cup.” “On the subject of Quidditch, the school will not be holding the traditional Quidditch tournament this year, but we promise Quidditch enthusiasts will not be disappointed.” “I am also to inform you that all greenhouses are off limits to students unless Professor Walsh is present and you have express permission to be there outside of class.” “Finally, there is to be absolutely no magical toys, candy, trinkets, or anything else of magical nature brought into Muggle Studies. If any of these items are found upon your person, Professor Helit will confiscate and dispose of them.” Letting the various warnings sink in, she finishes. “It looks to be an exciting and vibrant new term and I sincerely hope each of you finds as much fun as you do challenges.” “Now let’s eat.”

(Hufflepuff) Angharad O‘Duibhleargain shrugs her shoulders as the announcements end. Another year of being alone for her, probably. She hasn’t anything but casual acquaintances, and only a few of those – but it isn’t too bad.

(Hufflepuff) “No Quidditch?” Constance replies with a bit of a gasp. “Imagine! I wonder what we’ll be doing instead. She did say that enthusiasts wouldn’t be disappointed, and while I don’t count myself as a particular enthusiast, I do enjoy the matches.” The girl starts to help herself to some food, puzzled at this turn of events.

(Hufflepuff) “Badgers are cute!” Nell says happily. She apparently had been holding this in since she was told to listen to the announcements. “What’s the house cup? Why did Slytherin win last year instead of us?”

(Hufflepuff) Alice Wexler shrugs, not particularly concerned about this quidditch thing. Though it is strange that they wouldn’t have it. “I’m sure they’ve got something equally interesting planned, then,” she offers, reaching for plate of rolls nearby.

(Hufflepuff) “Because they must have worked harder last term or something,” Constance comments. “It was a very close cup,” she admits, pausing to take several bites of food, for she honestly is famished.

(Hufflepuff) Charlie Linwood‘s jaw fairly drops, shocked right out of his Intent to Sulk. He sits there for a moment even as the feast starts around him, and then finally, slumping a bit, he lets out a sigh that could very well be considered relieved and looks at Nell blankly. “Tell a badger it’s cute when you’re on the business end of its claws and then let us know how that went.” Mrff. He begins piling his plate in that obsessively neat and segregated way he has, leaving the explanation of the Cup to someone else.

(Hufflepuff) “I don’t like claws,” Nell said seriously. “Why did you let them work harder? I like winning things. It’s a lot of fun and people cheer for you.”

(Hufflepuff) Angharad O‘Duibhleargain fills her plate with food, letting the conversation wash over her without really paying attention.

(Hufflepuff) Constance glances at Nell for a moment, looking at her seriously. “Well, we were a bit preoccupied with our schoolwork. If you’d like to suck up to the teachers, though, you’re more than welcome.” This retort is a bit more biting than is usual for Constance, and it is clear that she doesn’t entirely trust the new girl.

(Hufflepuff) “Is that what we’re supposed to be doing?” Nell asked, looking confused.

(Hufflepuff) “Constance,” Olivia admonishes quietly. “No, we work hard to try to earn points, and whichever house earns the most at the end of the year gets the cup,” Olivia explains gently to Nell. “It just happened that Slytherin earned more than we did last year.”

(Hufflepuff) “Oh, all right,” Nell said, filling her plate. “So I have to work hard and earn points and then we can win.”

(Hufflepuff) “Is it hard to earn points?” Chester asks, cautiously. “I don’t want to do anything dangerous or anything to earn points. It wouldn’t be worth it.” Chester, for his own part has filled his plate up quite full, perhaps a bit more full than one his age and size ought. This seems irrelevant to him as he begins to eat messily.

(Hufflepuff) “I’m sure no one would let us get hurt,” Nell says, looking over Chester as if sizing him up.

(Hufflepuff) Angharad O‘Duibhleargain shakes her head and grins. “Dangerous stuff is more likely to get you losing points, I think,” she says.

Time passes and the night grows longer, but eventually Astra stands up from her chair again and holds up her hands. “We have an early and exciting day tomorrow. I hope you’ve all enjoyed yourselves, but now it’s about time to be preparing for our first day of school. Prefects please take charge of the first years and guide them back to the house commons.” “Have a good night to each and every one of you.” Trusting and confident of those left in charge, the Headmistress takes her leave of the feast without another word.

Standing abruptly from her seat, Kelly waves the youngest students from her table towards her. “Okay, first years, follow me!” She smiles a bit at this, if nothing else. She gets to boss people around! Legitimately! “First years, this way, please. Don’t get distracted or lost or I will not help you find your way later.”

Standing up uncertainly, Olivia looks to the other Hufflepuff prefects and then across the room, she spots Evan, and a smile spreads across her face. “You guys can handle it, right?” she asks them, making sure before she sneaks away, walking quickly so that Constance can’t follow and try to see where she’s headed. Quickly she makes her way toward the exit to the room, looking pointedly to Evan before slipping out of the room quickly.

Finishing the last cup of dessert, Andy nods over to Briony and Kelly. “See you in the commons, then.” Seeing that Kelly had drawn the firsties’ attention towards her, Andy thinks it’d be best to keep in the back of the small crowd of new students, not to lose one of them along the way to the Common Room.

Charlie Linwood rises from the table and tries not to look over at Gryffindor… or Slytherin for that matter. Ravenclaw is safe eyeball territory but now he’s got to cart about little people. “First years, if you follow me I’ll take you to our wonderful and glorious Common rooms, so that you can see our Illustrious Paintings and try to stake out a good chair.” Cheerful.

Briony doesn’t have any responsibility with the first years, so as she finishes her supper, she and Kalynn stand and chatting amiably, they make their way out of the great hall and up to the Gryffindor commonroom. Briony will just have to try to chat with Gabe later, after he’s finished with his prefectly duties.

Following Astra’s lead, Donovan gets up himself and heads out of the Great Hall to go crash for the night, knowing that the next day was the start of another busy year for the school.

Eleonora offers a fake smile at the first years. She hopes they will stay out of her hair this year. She starts for the doors, weaving in and out of throng of kids and heads out.

Standing up from his table along with his fellow prefects Louis does his best to not let the Quidditch news get in the way of his prefect duties. “Okay first years, this way behind me. In a neat line if you please and don’t dawdle.” He calls out motionign for a few stragglers to get in line. “That’s it, yes yes we know you can tie your shoe now get in line.” He tells another boy. With that Louis turns and motions for them all to follow him out of the great hall.

Chester Blake climbs through the hole in the wall behind the palm fronds.

“This is pretty!” Nell says, pleased, as she looks around.

Angharad O‘Duibhleargain smiles. “Yes, isn’t it?” she says. “It’s comfy, too.”

“I like it in here. I think the yellow is very cheerful,” Constance replies happily, sinking into a seat near to where Alden has gotten comfortable, grinning at the boy cheerfully, then turning her attention to the nearby girls. “I wonder what the quidditch enthusiasts will get instead of the Quidditch tournament. What do you reckon it is?” she asks the other girls.

Angharad says, “Probably some fancy competition.”

“It is cheerful!” Nell said, bouncing slightly in her chair. “Maybe we’ll do a play! That would be more fun then quidditch.”

Angharad O‘Duibhleargain dismisses the suggestion with a shake of her head. “No, that’s not enough excitement to compensate for no Quidditch,” she says.

“A play would be fun!” Constance agrees happily, seeming to come a bit out of her distrust for Nell. She pauses, considering. “Maybe we’ll get to go see some professional Quidditch matches!” The girl suggests, her eyes getting wide at the speculation.

Angharad O‘Duibhleargain grins. “That would be amazing!” she says excitedly.

Alice Wexler grabs a pillow from somewhere and stretches out on the floor near Constance’s chair, finally warming up a bit to the conversation and the crowd. “Maybe they’ll let us write the play,” she suggests, with a small smile for Nell.

“A play?” Chester considers, looking about as he chews his lip. “Well, maybe. It would be fun to help make the sets, don’t you think?” he suggests amiably. “I don’t know if I’ll care as much for Quidditch. I didn’t become very familiar with it in India, and we just didn’t get much into it when we moved back to England,” he mentions casually.

“Acting is more fun then writing, but that’s still good,” Neil said. “Watching Quidditch isn’t as fun as playing. What do they do in India?”

“Oh, they have Quidditch,” Chester answers quickly. “We just didn’t play it, really. I guess the Ministry folks who we lived around, didn’t really like it, so they didn’t play at all, so Rowan and I didn’t play as much then.” Chester shrugs as he adds this, smiling to the girls surronding him. He’s not used to be surrounded by pleasant girls.

“I’ve never played Quidditch,” Neil said, “But my mother let me practice riding her broom this summer. It was fun! I think I was good at it. I might be on the team when I’m older.”

Keelan Walsh wears, for once, plain black robes with no hint of team affliation. This is rare enough at a game against Ravenclaw, but it seems she’s either had a talking-to or a rethink over the summer break about bias in Quidditch. Maybe her red robes were just dirty. At any rate, she’s standing underneath her umbrella in the center of the pitch, squinting out toward the locker rooms of each team, trying to spot red or blue robes coming through the downpour.

Riley Markham makes his way on to the pitch with a soft yawn, his pale skin sizably more alabaster than tanned under the chilling effect of all the rain. Broom draped avross his shoulders, he waits to kick off anxiously. Growing more nervous by the minute.

Nervously Andy walks onto the pitch, his broom in hand and his robes getting soaking wet in seconds. Looking up to the dark clouds he mutters to Keira “Hm, great.” Then his hands slip into his gloves as he lines up with his teammates, waiting for Keelan’s initial whistle blow.

Boyce Gardener follows behind Riley quietly, trying to hold on to the excitement he felt in the changeroom, and dismiss the nervousness that was trying creep up in to his belly. He carries his broom much more traditionally, though the damp air keeps causing the broomhandle to slip from his fingers.

Quincy Matthias lumbers out onto the pitch, making some crack about the weather to his teammates and hoisting his broom over his shoulder for now. The rain doesn’t otherwise seem to bother him, though he uses his spare hand (beater bat tucked under an arm) to push hair off his forehead.

Rhian says, “Good afternoon everyone, students and faculty alike. Today is a lovely autumn day, if you are a duck perfect for the first Quidditch game of the 1927-28 year. I am Rhian Brecon, your announcer for this year, and for those of you unable to see, I’ll make sure to tell you everything that’s happening. Today’s game is Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw and as this is their first game of the year, I will give you a quick listing of the roster. For Gryffindor, the Chasers are 3rd year Andy Carver, 5th years Keira Sanguine and Tobias Raleigh, their Beaters are 4th years Kelly Pantall and Quincy Mattias, with the Keeper the 3rd year Briony Wexler and their Seeker and Captain, 4th year Gabriel Goden. For Ravenclaw, who this year comes to try and hold onto the Quidditch Cup they won last year, their Chasers are 4th year David Mildren, 5th year Prefect Bailey Williams and 3rd year Boyce Gardner, the Beaters are 5th year Prefect Tegan Madison and 3rd year Riley Markham, their Keeper being 5th year Laney Abbott and their Seeker and Captain, leading them once again, 6th year Prefect Noémie Ribouet. The official for today’s game is Professor of Herbology, Professor Walsh. We now wait for both teams to come brave the weather as we are now, so let’s get this game underway.”

Making her way out into the pouring rain, Noémie appears to be in quite a mood today. Her face is set seriously, and her eyes squinted, though this could likely be caused by the amount of water cascading down into her face. Coming to stop near Keelan, she does not look at the captain, instead looking in the direction of where the Gryffindor team is to join them. The rain does make it difficult to see what, exactly, is going on, and Noémie finds herself biting her lip while she looks around, rather hoping that the snitch won’t be quite so hard to see when it comes time to begin.

David follows the other members of his team, muttering against the rain and how it might affect the game. He carries his broom under his arm, hoping that it won’t behave as it did during that practice, when it suddenly stopped midair for no reason. That should not happen, though, since he had it looked over by the flying instructor, who reassured him that it should fly fine from now on. A bit nervous about the match, David stays silent and waits for the game to begin.

Laney Abbott is more nervous than anything, and keeps pushing her glasses up her nose with her free hand. Her broom is clutched hard in the other, and more than once she redoubles her stride to stay with the rest of the team, lips pressed into a thin line. Still, a “Lovely, I’ll just divine where the Quaffle is in the mess and block it that way.” escapes her lips in a sour sort of mumble.

“N– I’m su– no, Bri — c’mon, you–” Gabe starts as he walks out to the pitch, trying to sneak words in while Briony chatters at him quietly on their way out to the pitch. “You’ll be fine, I’m sure,” he tells his friend and then falls silent as the two of them come out, their red robes easily dampened by the sheer volume of water falling upon him. Squaring off in front of Noémie, his nervousness is not easily hidden, especially as he turns away from Briony a bit, perhaps to hide this very fact from her.

Trailing behind Keira and Andy, Tobias nestles on his broom a last time. It’s his first match in the main team and now it comes to a close against last season’s champions Ravenclaw. Quiet as usual he hides his excitement quite well, except of a trembling left eyelid.

Not to be left out of the intial comments, Kelly Pantall holds onto her broom, bat, and, like everyone, gets very wet.

Following Gabriel out to the pitch, once she is finally coaxed into silence by him, Briony starts to fidget. Her broom in one hand, and the other hand shoved deep into her pocket, she shifts from foot to foot while glancing around at the rest of her team.

David Mildred is about as grumpy as the other teammates about the foul weather, and doesn’t mince her words about it. She is rather in a foul mood today, for no apparent reason, and twirls her bat around, ready to play with the bludgers and send them over to the opponents.

Keira Sanguine looks almost annoyed at the water as she makes her way out to the pitch, though the smirk on her lips seems to say that she might know a bit more than she’s letting on. Glancing behind her, the smirk fades as she realizes who is following her. She’s got to do well this game. She just has to.

“Doesn’t seem all that bad to me,” Riley murmurs, sincerely, as he drives his hands in to his pockets. Both of which are wrapped in suede gloves, so that the scars of his left hand don’t catch on the fabric of his robe pocket. “Could be worse. And they have ter play in the same muck.”

Usually easy-spirited, Bailey does not look quite so easy today. The conditions are not the best for Quidditch, especially not for the first game of the season, and, with only a glance to Tegan, he goes to stand next to David, holding his broom with a rather tight grip.

“Alright, let’s keep our formation close and I…ahm…want to see clean passes. Don’t give away quaffle possession to easily. Just like in the practices. We can do that!” Andy tries to encourage his fellow chasers, finishing with a weak clap and wrings out his robe for the first time. The match hasn’t even started yet and he’s wet to the bones already.

Keelan Walsh smiles, though the gesture is merely polite. “Well, it can’t be lovely weather all the time. Okay, Captains, lets get the handshake through so you can start this game, shall we?” She watches them, gives a small nod, and turns to open the box of Quidditch balls, folding up her umbrella and setting it down. A click releases the Snitch from it’s special holder, and away it flies into the rain. Then Keelan takes hold of the Quaffle and calls, “On your brooms?” before blowing the whistle and tossing it into the air to get the game started. A few moments later, the bludgers are released, and Keelan mounts her broom to watch for fouls.

Laney Abbott is in the air and traveling toward the Ravenclaw hoops at the sound of the whistle, and soon hovers before them, waiting for Chasers to come her way with a Quaffle to, hopefully, block.

Swing his broom from his shoulders and mounting it in one easy motion, Riley turns and nods to Tegan — communicating that he understood their practiced tactic of knight at dragon. He was the knight who defended his teammates, she was going to start off being the one who grabbed a bludger and attacked.,

Quincy Matthias and Kelly rise into the air and spread out a bit, wielding the bats and watching (or at least attemping to) for bludgers to hit at the Ravenclaw team.

Reaching out to shake Gabriel’s hand, Noémie doesn’t wait long before getting herself onto her broom afterward. “Alright, keep it clean, and play hard. Remember what we practiced, everyone,” Noémie tells her team and as soon as she hears the whistle, she flies upward, though not too high. She wants to see where the snitch goes, after all, so that she has more chance of catching it.

Biting his lower lip, Boyce takes off in to the air after mounting his broom — almost slipping off it from the rain. He seens to grow a bit more confident once in the air. He’s ready.

Gabe Goden shakes Noémie’s hand as she offers it and then turns to his team. “Er –” he pauses as Andy begins to tell the team a quick last minute pep talk. “What he said,” Gabe tacks on and hops onto his broom, keeping a close eye on Noémie, though his attempts to keep up with her are rather obvious.

Following his teammates, David kicks off the ground starts to take some speed, making a direct flight towards the quaffle, which he grabs deftly before flying towards the Gryffindor goals. He makes a silent nod at the other Ravenclaw chasers to indicate them to be ready for a pass should the need arise.

Flying upward, Keira makes an attempt at the quaffle which has been released. Reaching close to David, Keira‘s face is set and she reaches out with intent to blatantly steal the Quaffle from David, though this does cause her to lose balance a bit and she has to slow down in order to gain control over her broom again.

Andy mounts his broom and sets up to shoot for the quaffle once it’s tossed up into the air. He sees the ball flying upwards and accelerates, but doesn’t reach it, since David has been more agile this time. Andy orientates again and chases the Ravenclaw.

Making her way up to the goals, it is not long before there is a small crowd headed toward her, and Briony looks almost fearful as she rubs her left wrist carefully, biting her lips while she gets situated more carefully in front of the goals, at a slight slant rather than straight on.

Nodding in silent agreement with Riley, Tegan pushes her broom forward and flies directly towards the nearest bludger, which she sends towards the pack of Chasers going after David, notably Andy.

Tobias gets into the air and hesitates a bit to go for the quaffle, since Andy and Keira are already racing for it. He stays back, turns around and is flying in front of David now, trying to guess where he is going.

Rising up quickly, Bailey is too slow to even be in contention to get the quaffle. This time, however, it appears as if a Ravenclaw has gotten it, and this bolsters Bailey a bit. Making his way down the pitch in an attempt to catch up, he swerves wide around Keira as she slows down and reaches out with an arm to let David know that he is currently open.

Kelly swoops in and knocks a bludger toward a streak of blue that will probably turn out to be Boyce, while Quincy takes flight, however slowly, toward the sound of another bat cracking, in order to attempt to intercept the other bludger, though he doesn’t yet.

Boyce Gardener moves notices Bailey postion himself and moves further up field to provide Bailey a passing lane ad possibly an attempt a a score., moving at a moderately quick speed but holding a fair amount of control. He is completely ignorant of the bludger sailing at him.

Feeling that the Gryffindor chasers are getting a bit too close to him, David makes a pass at Bailey, before continuing towards the goals to prepare the field for another pass.

Not being aware of Bailey, Andy stays behind David, coming nearer inch by inch he is now at his heels, but still not able to reach for the quaffle. As David passes, Andy notices that he’ll only be able to cover the Ravenclaw now. Bailey is too far away already.

Reaching out with his hands wide, Bailey makes a clean catch and begins to fly forward in an effort to catch up to Boyce. The older boy swerves a bit and then flies in to toss the quaffle to the younger chaser as he crosses in front, making his way diagonally away for a moment before coming back behind David and making his way around to hover behind a bit, in case the quaffle needs to be passed out again.

Riley, however, is very aware of the bludger that has been hurtled toward Bailey. Laying low on his broom in an attempt to keep the rain from blinding him, he darts foreward. Reaching out with his bat, he bunts the bludger away from Boyce almost at the last moment, before wheeling back and hitting it toward Keira. Though his aim isn’t dead on, exactly, it’s a right sight more sharp than last year, and definately sail in the general direction of his hopefully distracted target,

Seeing David’s pass, Tobias tries to intercept the ball, but it’s too well thrown, so that his finger just get the quaffle’s gust. He dashes down to hassle Bailey now, but too late, another pass he could not reach. “Keira, watch out!” Tobias points at the bludger and keeps flying next to Bailey, to cover him.

Shrieking a bit, Keira turns her broom and tries to get out of the way of the bludger, finding this difficult as her broom hasn’t quite calmed down yet, and her broom is stuttering a bit as she tries to out-fly the metal orb. “You bloody beaters! Get over here and hit this confounded thing at those bloody Ravenclaw!” Several more sentences, riddled with obscenities follow and the girl’s face gets quite red while she tries to get control of her broom still.

Quincy Matthias is in the path of the bludger at last and aims it with a powerful crack of bat-on-ball back toward the Ravenclaw Chasers with a grunt. Kelly flies for the other bludger, a bit peeved that Riley redirected it.

Freed of the bludger he’d not realized he had, Boyce catches the quaffle on the tips of his fingers, nearly dropping it a few times because of his slick it was, and making his flight briefly jerky. He manages to get himself relatively under control, however, arching up as he comes at the hoops, before diving and trying to shoot over Briony’s head, hoping for a quick score.

Deciding to let her role as the dragon aside for a while, Tegan flies towards the chasers to prevent the bludger from hitting them. She is still a bit away from it, so she does not reach it immediately, but flies there the best she can.

Rhian says, “The captains come into the center of the pitch and shake hands before both teams are called to their brooms. Professor Walsh waits until they are ready before releasing the Quaffle, the two Bludgers and the Snitch. With the toss of the Quafle, Mildred is quick on his broom and manages to catch it. Ravenclaw has first possesion this game as they head down toward Wexler who waits at the goals she is guarding. Pantall manages to get to one of the Bludgers and hits it over at Gardner, who seems totally oblivious to it. The Ravenclaw Chasers seem in good form as Mildren passes the Quaffle to Williams and Williams in turn tosses it to Gardner.”

Kelly takes care of the bludger again, calling something out to Keira that is lost in the sound of the rain and noise of Quidditch, while Quincy tries (poorly) to keep pace with Tegan and prevent her hitting the other.

Reaching up with both hands as the Quaffle is tossed at her, Briony manages, for once, an easy block. The block is easy, but the catch is not, and she fumbles with it for a moment before getting a good grip on it. Tossing it outward, she aims it to Andy without a word, though a grunt does ensue.

David Mildred groans as well, but for another reason, as he sees that the quaffle has been blocked. He immediately starts to chase Andy, hoping to get the quaffle from his hands.

Rhian says, “Markham manages to notice the Bludger flying after Gardner and hits it away back over to Sanguine. However, Gardner is having a slight issue with the Quaffle while he flies. Mattias takes the other Bludger and hits it in general at the Ravenclaw Chasers, though Tegan is attempting to protect her team’s Chasers. Pantall goes after the Bludger that is chasing Sanguine, attempting to keep it away from the Chaser. Gardner, now in the clear, attempts to score… But is stopped by Wexler, but it is only batted to Carver to head down back the other way.”

A short smile brightens on Andy‘s face, as Briony saves the first shot and gets a hold of the Quaffle. Flying for a second, then seeking one of his fellow chasers, Andy finds Keira at his side and instantly flings the Quaffle to the girl, noticing David behind him. Andy then performs a hard turn, to force David to slow down and get Keira an advantage.

Finally reaching the iron ball which was flying towards the Ravenclaw chasers, Tegan swings her bat and sends the bludger towards Keira. “Take that!”

Tobias slows down and lets his broom drop a bit to avoid the crowded field. He shoots forward and heaves up again, so that he finds himself in front of Keira now.

For a moment, Noémie thinks she’s spotted the snitch. While she begins to fly toward the gold fleck that she thinks she has seen, it is a moment before she realizes that she has a bludger following her, and her course is altered in order to avoid the orb that is hot on her tail. “Riley, Tegan! Someone” she shrieks in a rather undignified fashion, flying downward through the action in hopes of losing it.

Rhian says, “Pantall finally got the bludger that was after Sanguine away, and now it heads off to Ribouet, give the Seeker something to do until the Snitch is spotted. Meanwhile, Mattias is trying to stop Madison from getting at the other Bludger, but she manages to get it away over at Sanguine, who just recently got the Quaffle from Carver. Carver is trying a nice move though of attempting to block Mildred from persuing Sanguine as she barrels her way to Abbott.”

David Mildred narrowly escapes a collision with Andy Carver as the Gryffindor does a reckless turn right in front of him, and dives to avoid him. He lets out a shout of rage as he does so. Keira is already far from her, but noticing the bludger flying towards her, he decides to anticipate her (very likely) pass to Tobias and flies directly towards him instead.

It takes Riley a few moments to divine the location the bludger, having heard the sound of a bat striking it, but unable to see it for all the rain. Sailing upward quickly, he chases after Noémie — not quite able to keep up with her in all the rain and wind (he did have more wind resistance, naturally). But he could get close enough to send that bludger away. His aim is off, though, for the angle he had to strike it. It sails off in no particular direction toward friend or foe.

Keelan Walsh pulls up short on his broom to change direction, sweating a bit even with the rain coming down. He and his broom are not the fastest on the field, and it’s likely that the bludger will inflitrate the Chasers before he makes it. Kelly remains, for the moment, on the lookout rather than the offense, thanks to the rain unable to see the result of her last hit.

Quincy Matthias pulls up short on his broom to change direction, sweating a bit even with the rain coming down. He and his broom are not the fastest on the field, and it’s likely that the bludger will inflitrate the Chasers before he makes it. Kelly remains, for the moment, on the lookout rather than the offense, thanks to the rain unable to see the result of her last hit.

Laney Abbott starts to get a bit more nervous as she squints through the rain and detects scarlet blurrs moving toward the Ravenclaw end of the pitch. She begins to bob vaguely in place on her broom and her grip tightens around the handle.

What has she done to get the bludgers flying toward her today? Keira Sanguine has only barely managed to get the Quaffle secured under her arm and started on her way to the Ravenclaw goals before another bludger is directed at her. Looking over her shoulder, she checks to see if there are any other Chasers available, before she notices Tobias in front of her. Chucking the Quaffle quickly, with a shout of “HERE!” Keira swears a little more and veers away so as not to direct the bludger to Tobias.

Beginning to grin as his bet has paid off, David begins to chase Tobias, closing in to him as every second goes by. Had he gone for Keira after his near-miss with Andy, he wouldn’t be so close to the Gryffindor chaser as he is now… David has good hopes to at least bother him a good bit if he tries to throw the quaffle.

Tobias looks over his shoulder and receives Keira’s well-metered pass. He zooms up into the zone, heading for the left hoop and attempts a score. He dekes to puzzle the keeper, but notes David then and flies out of the zone again, throwing the Quaffle to Andy.

Making his way down the pitch, Bailey seems to think it a good idea to stay close to Andy now that David has gone after Keira, leaving Boyce to follow Tobias. As the Quaffle is tossed to Andy, Bailey sees his opportunity, and flies forward a bit, as well as his broom will let him. This is just in time, as he manages to get a grip onto the red orb, turning quickly and flying as fast as his broom will take him in the other direction. He is headed straight for the Gryffindor hoops with the slick ball.

Quincy Matthias is belatedly in the fray and with a very wet smack, sends the Bludger flying in the opposite direction, hopefully scattering at least some of the Ravenclaw Chasers, now that they’ve recovered the Quaffle. Kelly scans the skies for the other and zips toward it, sending the Bludger toward the Ravenclaws as well.

Seeing Bailey crossing in front of him, Andy‘s flying becomes unstable and he can’t avoid him stealing the ball from Gryffindor. Changing into defensive mode again, he shoots away to follow Bailey and gets a hand on the Quaffle, pulling at it.

Noticing the smooth work done by Bailey, Boyce does his best to tag Tobias and prevent him to follow the Ravenclaw chaser and intercept the quaffle.

Rhian says, “Markham manages to get the Bludger away from Ribouet with ease, but where it went, I don’t know… Matthias has also managed to get the other bludger away from the Gryffindor Chasers while Sanguine tosses the Quaffle to Raleigh. Raleigh now takes a chance to pass it to Carver, but wait… Williams has managed to intercept the Quaffle and the field now turns around to head to the Gryffindor goals.”

Gabe curses loudly as Ravenclaw gets hold of the Quaffle again, and the Gryffindor pulls her broom around, making a hard turn to try to follow down to the other end of the pitch in an attempt to retrieve the quaffle for her own team and scoring.

Keira curses loudly as Ravenclaw gets hold of the Quaffle again, and the Gryffindor pulls her broom around, making a hard turn to try to follow down to the other end of the pitch in an attempt to retrieve the quaffle for her own team and scoring.

A second later, David turns his broom and flies in Andy’s direction, attempting to hinder him and prevent him from catching up with Bailey.

Tobias slows down and ponders if he should go and dive into the bunch of chasers, threatened by both bludgers or wait where he is to receive a pass, should Andy really get the quaffle from Bailey.

The situation is a bit dire for the Ravenclaw chasers, since the two bludgers are directed towards them. Noding to Tegan, Riley Markham decides to take the bludger, which he reaches easily enough. The bludger is sent away from the pack of chasers in a matter of seconds. On her side, Tegan has more difficulties to catch the other bludger, and reaches it just as it was going to hit David, but as she does so, she prevents him from tagging Andy correctly and nearly collides into the Ravenclaw boy.

Tugging back at the Quaffle as Andy attempts to grab it back from him, Bailey growls a little and says something rather unintelligible as he tries to fly over a bit, pulling both the quaffle and his broom at once while he yanks again, finding this difficult due to the wetness of the Quaffle.

Andy pulls and turns the Quaffle in Bailey’s arms and hands. A tough opponent, as Andy isn’t the strongest of boys after all. But then his arms slips through and prises the ball out of the Ravenclaw’s grasp. A quick look and the Quaffle is on it’s way to Tobias again, who seems to have been sleeping at the zoneline.

Back and forth, back and forth! Keira turns around again and makes a rather sour comment under her breath before yelling, “Make up your confounded minds!” The chaser makes her way back down the pitch and pushes her auburn hair out of her face, looking quite irritated.

Rhian says, “The two Gryffindor Beaters seemt o have a vengence for the Ravenclaws as both Bludgers are sent to the Ravenclaw Chasers. Gardner attempts to block Raleigh from following while Mildred tries the same thing with Carver, but it fails as Carver tries to steal the Quaffle away from Willaims. With this rain, it seems overly difficult to keep a good grip, and it seems that it succeeded as Carver pulls the Quaffle from Williams and tosses it to Raleigh, the closest to the goal.”

The Quaffle is pried away from him as just as a bludger connects with the Ravenclaw’s leg. “AUGH!” he shouts loudly and grabs his leg. This prevents Bailey, at least for the moment, from following the group of chasers who have turned and headed toward his goals while he — rather babyishly — rubs his leg, his eyes pricking with tears, though he’s not about to show them.

A bit surprised Tobias prepares for the catch, does well and whirls around towards the Ravenclaw hoops. Maybe his first goal for Gryffindor, today? With a small groan he tosses the Quaffle towards an empty ring, hoping that the keeper won’t get it at that speed.

Quincy Matthias gives momentary chase to the Bludger, hitting it neatly toward Noémie, while Kelly guards of her own group of Chasers, intentionally or not, in case a Bludger heads their way.

Laney Abbott‘s lips have been moving at a nervous under-toned mumble for the last few moments, as if the rain weren’t distracting enough, and so she doesn’t move fast enough, and the Quaffle soars past her outstretched hands through the hoop, bringing bright red splotches to the Keeper’s cheeks.

Letting out a loud “WHOOP!” as she hears the clang from the other end of the pitch, Briony seems to be ready to jump up and off of her broom. The game, however, is not over, as the Seekers are both still prowling about, flying this way and that, and Briony does not move off of her broom, instead, getting situated to prepare for another shot, should it come.

Rhian says, “Raleign manages to get the Quaffle, and before anyone can stop him, he turns around and tosses it to the goals. Abbott can’t seem to get there fast enough and Gryffindor scores… It is now Gryffindor-10, Ravenclaw-0. Though the game isn’t over yet… Williams has gotten in the leg with one of the Bludgers while the other one seems to be going after Ribouet once more.”

Riley Markham glances a few differant ways, trying to make out shapes in the rain that had long since gave up trying to sting his eyes in a more worthwhile pursuit of hoping to freeze them. The bludger, however, can hardly be missed as it sails past his head directly toward Noémie. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Riley grabs his broom, pulls up, and gives the cannonball chase.

Unclenching his teeth again after the loud scoring sound, Andy throws his hands into the air. “Yes! Great shot, Raleigh!” He backs up again to be ready for more chasing and scoring.

“I scored.” Tobias looks into his empty hands and to the score board. Then he flies back again to set up for defending.

Boyce Gardener swoops in behind the Gryffindor hoops, snatching up quaffle (much more easily than the last time) and looping back hard — Bailey and David both seemed rather close, but he didn’t reckon he could he bank hard enough in the rain without falling off his broom to give himself a good go at it. Chosing between the two, Bailey and David — Boyce tosses the quaffle to David, trying to put himself in the airway enough to set up a pick for David to have a clear shot if he catches the red ball.

Having fully recovered now from his pain — or at least put it aside — Bailey makes his way around just in time to see a score go through for Gryffindor. A sour look crosses his face at this and he turns, flying toward the middle of the pitch and pausing as Boyce comes down. At the pass, he flies forward more, making his way toward the other hoops. They’ve got to even up!

Approaching Bailey again, Andy tries to cover the zone between him and David to prevent a pass to this Ravenclaw chaser.

Catching the quaffle, David quickly assesses the situation and the position of the chasers –both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. And then, he darts towards the Gryffindor goals, choosing not the direct path (which would probably sent him straight towards the Gryffindors) but choosing the right side of the pitch instead.

Heading for Bailey first, then trailing off towards David, Tobias tries to reach the Ravenclaw, but it’s still a long way to go. He didn’t see Andy on Bailey’s other side and lost a good amount of time, now.

Keira Sanguine flies down, a grin on her face. Sure, she doesn’t like her teammates, but it’s still her team, and a win for Gryffindor is a win for her. She tries to catch up to David, but her broom appears to have a bit of a stuttering problem, likely due to the rain, or perhaps her issues at the start just persisting on, and she has trouble catching up, especially as he swerves out to an alternative path.

It takes Riley a fair bit of effort to catch up to the bludger chasing Noémie — especially considering how graceful and fast Noémie could fly, even in adverse conditions. He was no slouch in the flying department, it was his best strength. But in this weather, it was killing him. Swinging, aming as best he can, he tries to arch the bludger at Keira. His bat begins to slip out of his hand, though, as he swings — and the bludger takes off in Gabe’s direction, instead.

The golden snitch has come into Gabe‘s view! He flies downward in pursuit of the little golden ball which e has only barely been able to see. The rain seems to have let up some and he makes his way downward, downward, making it only slightly closer to the little orb as it continues to stay just out of reach while he begins his chase.

Deciding to give the Gryffindors something else to think about than the quaffle, and cursing herself for having allowed a bludger to hit one of the Ravenclaw chasers, Tegan goes after the other bludger, which she intends to send after Andy. At the last minute, though, she notices Gabe’s dive and sends it against him instead.

Rhian says, “Ravenclaw heads back to the other end of the Quidditch Pitch with the Gryffindors chasing them. Markham manages to intercept a Bludger that was going after Ribouet, but turns and sends it toward Sanguine… What is this, seems that Goden has caught sight of the Snitch and has begun the chase. Madison has spotted this and sends the Bludger near her his way to try and change his attention and to loose the Snitch.”

The bludger, this time, doesn’t even register to Noémie as she spots Gabriel beginning to fly quickly downward. Flying before she even begins looking for it, it doesn’t take Noémie long to catch up to the younger boy, and she is flying neck-and-neck with him, her hand outstretched as if she is to be able to reach the little ball before he will. The snitch swerves this way and that, up and down, and it appears as if this chase is not about to stop soon.

Noticing that Bailey was totally covered by Andy, David has no option but doing the job himself. He approaches to the Gryffindor hoops the best he can, pretends throwing the quaffle towards the rightmost hoop but sends it to the middle hoop instead…

Bumping into Noémie a little — on accident, he promises! — Gabe makes a sharp turn as the snitch does, and overshoots it a bit in his excitement at being so close to possibly winning. His broom does not turn quite as well as he would like back, though he tries to catch up to the snitch and Noémie.

Keelan Walsh and Kelly almost simultaneously spot the double bludgers heading toward their Seeker and take off through the rain to try and stop them. Kelly, faster, arrives first and manages to deflect the Bludger, but Quincy is trailing behind.

Quincy Matthias and Kelly almost simultaneously spot the double bludgers heading toward their Seeker and take off through the rain to try and stop them. Kelly, faster, arrives first and manages to deflect the Bludger, but Quincy is trailing behind.

Reaching up as the Quaffle comes her way, Briony makes an attempt to catch it, but the Quaffle’s slickness does not help, and it flies through the hoop behind her. Briony does not look pleased at this, and scowls a bit as she retrieves the Quaffle, tossing it out to Tobias harshly.

Rhian says, “After some jostling, the Ravenclaw Chasers make their way down the pitch and right in front of Wexler. Mildred attempts to score, faking to one hoop and trying for the other. Wexler misses and Ravenclaw scores! It is now tied at 10 a piece. Bludgers are still flying around though as both Goden and Ribouet fly after the Snitch. Goben almost had it there, but seems to have missed.”"

Noémie hears the clang, but she doesn’t even know who it’s for as she reaches out, despite the jostling, and closes her fingers around the golden snitch. The little ball goes limp in her hands and its wings fold up again as Noémie holds it above her head triumphantly. The sixth year pushes her water saturated hair out of her face and flies down to the pitch quickly, hopping off of her broom and then holding both broom and snitch in the air in celebration. They’d won!

So close, and yet, so far. Gabe Goden flies down to the pitch, having nearly managed to get his hand around it before Noémie but not quite making it. He flies down to the pitch and looks up at his team, a bit disappointedly, before sighing. The captain doesn’t even wait for his team to come down before he makes his way off of the pitch, bound for the locker rooms. A nice warm shower sounds about right for the fourth year captain.

Rhian says, “Ribouet has caught the Snitch. Ravenclaw has won the first game of the year, and are on their way to a wonderful streak to trying to keep the Quidditch Cup. Final score is Ravenclaw-160, Gryffindor-10. Now what do you say to getting out of the rain everyone?”

Keelan Walsh blows her whistle signifying the end of play, and with less terseness then usual congratulates anyone who goes by as she collects the balls and returns them to their box.

Feeling quite disappointed, Briony flies down and lands soon after Gabriel has. She waits just a moment, intent to see how Kelly had done — after all, Briony couldn’t be watching the Beaters the whole game, could she? — and see if perhaps they had at least bruised up some of the Ravenclaws well enough. After she has caught up to Kelly, the girl makes her way slowly off of the pitch, whether Kelly is following her or not.

Riley cheers from his place Noémie lands, throwing his arms in to the air and whooping. “Yeah, Raaaveeenclaaaw!” Drifting down toward ground, pleased as hell to be done zipping around a too-cold sky in too-wet rain, Rilet leaps off his broom and cheers. Those practices had paid off. “YES!”

David cheers loudly, both for the ten points he managed to score than for the victory of the team, and quickly lands to celebrate with the other members of his team.

Boyce Gardener lands not from Riley, grinning and cheering “Yeth! Yeth!” Clapping Riley hard on the back, he walks over to congratulate Noémie on her catching the snitch. His first victory with the team.

Catching the quaffle as it is thrown to him, Tobias has only a moment to fly toward Ravenclaw goal before he hears that the snitch has been caught, and not even by his team. His disappointment is apparent as he flies down and hands the Quaffle over to Keelan, making his way inward. Perhaps he can talk shop with Gabe in the lockers.

Tegan Madison shakes her fist in the air. “YESSS!” she squeals, happy that Ravenclaw has won, and lands near Riley, David and Boyce. “Congratulations, everyone!”

Letting out a stream of obscenities, Keira Sanguine makes her way down to the pitch, looking sourly at the Ravenclaws, and then stomping towards the lockers. That no good Wexler, and that confounded Goden and Raleigh and Carver and Matthias, all of them were worthless. Yes, even Raleigh. The girl doesn’t head to the lockers with the rest of them, instead deciding to head into the commonroom and the girls’ bathrooms.

Cheering with the rest of his team for a moment, Bailey grins widely. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to go get dried off and head to the commons! I heard there’s going to be a wild party!” Without another word, the boy trots inside, waving a fist joyously above his head.

Quincy Matthias rather dejectedly, and with a good deal of squelching, dismounts and heads off to shower(as if being wetter was at all useful) or at the very least to dry off and sulk in the Common Room with everyone else.

Laney Abbott feels some of the good spirit at winning, though her only role in this sodden game was to let Gryffindor score. As such, her jubilation at her first Quidditch game being a win is tinged with self-mockery, evident with the rather closed expression of her eyes as she avoids the team and stalks off of the pitch, murmuring vague pleasantries that sound rather forced if anyone addresses her.

Grinning at her team, her demeanor much improved from the start of the match, Noémie looks quite pleased now. “Good work, everybody! We played beautifully!” Hearing Bailey’s comment, though, her attention strays toward the castle. “A party sounds about right, don’t you think?” the girl tells her team. “Come on, let’s celebrate!” Striding over to hand the snitch over to Keelan, Noémie turns, then, and runs inside. She doesn’t even stop along the way, instead going to the commonroom dripping wet. What’s a little detention in light of this cause for celebration?

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.

Exiting the train, Evan pauses after a few steps to hear Keelan’s familiar voice and watch the first years begin to separate. He looks in particular for one first year boy; upon spotting the child confidently walking off toward Keelan with a few others, he hurries to follow Olivia into the carriage.

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.

(Ravenclaw) Interested in every single student, that enters the hall, Kassandra sits down at the Ravenclaw table, greeting her housemates she has not met in the train and waving here and there to her entering acquaintances.

(Ravenclaw) “Hello everyone!” Bubbling with excitement, Kara Raine dances in and takes a seat at her house table, calling out greetings to various friends. She sits down amid a group of second years, immersing herself in tales of trips taken on holidays and the differences between being a first and second year.

(Ravenclaw) With a remarkably sour look on his face, Riley flops down across from Noémie and next to Saphia, immediately pouring himself a pumpkin juice with enough force that cracks his goblet. His waist-length hair clings to his face and cloak, and his wrinkled robes drip with almost casual disdain. Naturally, drying himself would be a simple feat, but he seems to cling to the cold water, almost as if making a point to the Headmistress sitting at the faculty table, who is waggling her fingers at Riley with an amused grin.

(Ravenclaw) Rhian Brecon took care of how wet she was as soon as she entered the school, really quickly. She sits down with the other Ravenclaws and smiles. This is it… her last year here… Last sorting she’ll get to see, among the last feasts she’ll go to, and the start of the last nine months to hang out with her fellow Ravenclaws… Unfortunately, two of her best friends are no longer here, graduated at the start of the summer, among them, her boyfriend. This is going to be a long year.

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.

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.

(Ravenclaw) Kara Raine waves as Dolly joins the table, turning back quickly to listen to the sorting hat. She cheers loudly as the song finishes, quieting quickly as she waits for the sorting, trying to watch for the first year who shared a train compartment with her earlier.

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.

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden gives out a heavily-accented cheer as not one but two Ravenclaws are Sorted early on. “Good job!” calls the redhead down the table at Rhyne and the other new student, just as her stomach gives a bit of a gurgle. Ahem. “Hush,” she tells it, blushing a bit. At least she’s not still throwing her underpants about and accusing people of being transgendered.

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.

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.

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.

(Ravenclaw) “Oh, bloody effin’ ‘ell,” Riley hisses, allowing his head to collide with the table uncerimoniously. “She did it again — that’s what the hell she’s been smirkin’ about all these weeks. Another damned Barefoot Social. Kill me now.”

(Ravenclaw) “Ah, food,” Noémie comments, grinning to the new folks with a bit of a stretch. She grins to a certain other sixth year at her side and then winks, perhaps a bit more playfully than would be her norm otherwise. “Looks like a good little crowd, all of you,” she comments to the new firsties briefly before putting more food into her mouth. It is Riley’s luck that she has done this, too, for she does gift him with a rather stern look while she clears her throat. “Riley, you fuddent say fings ‘ike vat.” Ah, ever the graceful, polite young lady.

(Ravenclaw) Kassandra peers over to Riley. “Be careful, before I ask you out.” she grins and moves nearer to the table to begin loading small portions of various kinds of food onto her plate. She finally sees the variety in front of her and shrugs grinning. “Hm, seems like I can’t decide this year.”

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden is a girl, and last year made a face at dancing with boys. Dangerously, though, she gives a look over the table at the announcement and says to Riley, “It’s not so bad, or are ye afraid ye won’t get asked?” A bit of roast turkey is chewed and swallowed before, “Or are ye afraid ye will?” comes out in her standard arrangement of impossible to understand accents. A giggle is all Noémie affords, as again the boys get eyed before there’s a shrug that seems to say ‘Meh, boys’ and she reapplies herself to the buisness of eating.

(Ravenclaw) Rhian Brecon smiles at Riley. “It wasn’t that bad last year, and it was fun planning it. Just relax Riley, just six more years and you don’t have to deal with her as Headmistress because you will have graduated. Focus on your studies and you’ll totally forget about her.”

(Ravenclaw) “Turf it,” Riley mutters, under his breath. Hopefully soft enough that he isn’t heard, seeing as that he doesn’t genuinely want to irritate Noémie. Still, he meets her stern gaze with one of his own, laced thickly with annoyance that only a summer held hostage with elderly arrogance can inspire. “And you shouldn’t talk with yer mouth full.” Dolly’s trite little questions are answered with a foul expression. “Nice bit o’ double talking there, eh? Right or wrong no matter how I answer.” Rhian’s reassurance is rewarded with the most positive reception — a gruff grunt and nod before he tables his forehead again, not bothering to fill up his plate, which is a white color almost as pasty as his pale skin seems to be at the moment.

(Ravenclaw) “I guess it’ll be nice to have some detention, don’t you think, Riley? I’ll let your grandmother know you’ll be coming Friday night for your first detention of the year.” Noémie doesn’t grin or wink or even blink as she tells him this, her face stony and plain before she turns her face to the boy next to her with a sly look and then beginning to eat. Her elbow darts out into the boy’s side briefly, but she doesn’t say anything further while she continues to work on the mound of food she’s put onto her plate — no small feat for a girl of her build!

(Ravenclaw) Riley Markham lifts his gaze, slowly. His expression — somewhere beteen incredulous and dangerous. “You can’t be serious.” His tone is tenative, however — on the edge of potential laughter he didn’t feel if it proved to be a joke, and torrential rage if it proved not to be. His hands remain at his sides, and his chin brushes against the plate as he stares up at the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain and Prefect. “Noémie..”

(Ravenclaw) “Well, you’re the one who said those things. I’m completely serious.” She shrugs at him. “You know how things go, and that was pretty foul language, and in front of the new students, no less.” Noémie shakes her head and shrugs. “You’ll know better next time, won’t you? I’m sure your grandmother won’t mind, anyway. She likes seeing you.” The girl takes another bite of food, looking rather nonplussed about Riley’s apparent near-emotional-explosion that is on the brink of being set off.

(Ravenclaw) It takes almost every ounce of reserve that Riley has not to do something physically rash. Such as taking one of his suddenly balled fists and shattering the plate his chin had just touched a moment before, or drawing his wand. Sitting up, slowly, his teeth grate together as he struggles to keep from saying anything at all — which proves largely to be a losing battle. “Take it. Back. Now.” His left fist, wrinkled with hideous scars as if his whole had had been soaked in acid, actually trembles. “I had a summer with her. A whole. Damn. Summer. Isn’t that enough?” His voice is only just barely contained in hisses. “Here, her flat, doing her chores. The whole summer. One effin’ afternoon I had away from her.. one. Don’t you dare do this to me. If it were you, you’d be muffed too — besides, isn’t all that snogging and whatever else you did last term punishable — don’t you deserve a detention or two for all the disgusting load you did with that git last year.. or whatever it is you did over the summer?” There’s a moment, after the words fall from Riley, that he realizes he has gone to far. Way to far. And it shows in his eyes. The immediate regret for the stupidness his anger summoned. But being a his grandmother’s grandson, his stubborness holds his fast to his words. And with force of will he didn’t know he had, he stands by them.

(Ravenclaw) Dolly Faeden blinks slowly and calmly with the air of someone observing as if completely unaffected. “Riley-sir, do ye hate your grandma? I love both of mine, and one of them is a muggle, so if ye could explain why ye don’t seem to like her–it is because she’s old? Grandmothers are supposed to be old. An’ they’re supposed to have you help around the house, too.” Her tone is very weird and curious, the exact way someone might ask a question and provide a hypothesis in class. She’s apprently not too observant that she might get smacked for her behavior, though.

(Ravenclaw) Peering at Riley, Noémie looks as if she has not taken this quite as calmly as his previous transgression. “Two detentions then, Riley. And don’t you ever talk to me that way again. Family or no, I’m still older than you and a prefect besides. You can be sure I’ll tell Melvina about that, and whatever your summer was like, that’s not my fault, so don’t you dare take it out on me, Riley Everett Markham. That is not my fault.” Standing and tossing her napkin onto the table before her, Noémie gets out from the table. “Now, first years, feel free to follow me, I’ll take you to the commonroom. The girl does not look at Riley again, though her annoyance is etched into her face. “I’ll see you up at the commonroom, Joseph,” she tells her comrade and waits to see if any of the first years come to follow her.

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.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of children of assorted ages and uniform colours, Gabriel Goden shoves his way through the masses in the Express’ corridor, Briony in tow. “Mooove,” Gabriel mutters under his breath, eventually spotting an empty section. “In here, Bri,” Gabe advises, turning his neck to make eye contact as he points. He opens the door with no intention of closing it himself and slumps onto a seat. The summer, against his will, had gone so fast, and now it was back to school. How could anyone be cheerful? “Well, another year,” Gabe says to Briony with a sigh.

With a bit of a flourish, the door opens again and Carrie Mary Jane Whittier enters the door. She’s carrying a smell pet carrier in which a siamese cat lays sleeping, a suitcase of clothes, and a small golden harp. But that’s not what draws attention from anyone who knew her before. When she left Hogwarts last year, Carrie had beautiful long red hair that used to fly behind her during quidditch matches. Now, it’s cut off into a jet black, bob-style haircut. Her face is powdered, and her lips painted into a petite blood red circle. “Terribly sorry to intrude,” She grins as she enters, “But all the other carriages are full.”

“Isn’t it exciting, Gabe-y?” Briony answers cheerfully, bounding in with a rather harried looking cat in her arms. “It’s okay, Whimsy. We’re going soon. Come on, Alden! Don’t straggle!” Briony sounds like quite the all-knowing older sister as she plops down as close to the window as she can, on the seat facing Gabriel. “I can’t wait for Quidditch this year, can you? I’m sure we’ll do better. I’ve been practicing all summer, of course. I want us to get the cup this year! And we’re going to do good with the Good Deed Club. Alden, you can be with us if you’re sorted into Gryffindor. Well, of course you’ll be Gryffindor. You should be, anyway. I’ll be terribly disappointed if you’re not. And, and, oh, I get to start the electives this year! I’m so excited to see the Divination teacher. Nearly everybody likes her!”

Alden Wexler follows Briony in to the cabin with a small sigh, his expression grave. “Don’t shout, Briony. It’s unbecoming, especially when I’m just behind you.” He lingers in the doorway for a moment, waiting for his older sister to find her seat and clear the way, before placing his suitcase neatly up in the rack and taking a seat near the door and opposite from Briony. His arms folding over his chest in a thoughtful way. He had vague feeling that this would be a long trip — much longer than the floo power ride still dusted his cheeks annoyingly with soot that delivered him to Diagon Alley.

Gabriel truly doesn’t recognize Carrie as he replies to her with, “Yeah, it’s no problem,” and turns to glare somewhat at Briony. “Exciting?” he echoes before he remains silent for a few seconds, not hearing much of what Briony says (though, this lack of attention can partly be defended by the notion that Gabe thinks she is mainly talking to Alden anyways. Though, it was hard to tell for Gabe sometimes). Despite the figurative cloud looming over him, he almost can’t help getting caught up in Briony’s excitement somewhat. Maybe this year would be better. Shrugging to Alden, Gabriel Goden sighs as he looks back to Briony. “This year will be great,” he says with the naive, hopeful tone so common of him in his younger years.

“I didn’t shout,” Briony comments, taking this in stride as she continues on. “Hi! You’re on Hufflepuff team, aren’t you?” she tells Carrie, but doesn’t linger. “Anyway, buck up, Gabe. We’re going back to Hogwarts! Your mum is still our House Head isn’t she? I like her being our House Head. Professor Calwern scared me a little bit. She had all those rules and I was afraid I was going to break some.” Briony shakes her head a bit and then shrugs, grinning cheerfully at her brother and her friend. “Why are you so glum? You’ve been this way all summer. It’s no fun. We didn’t even get to go on any adventures because of it.” A pout crosses Briony‘s face as she says this, but it doesn’t last long. “Maybe we can find some while we’re running through the Good Deed Club and solve them! We didn’t find many last year. It was really sad. I wish we had.”

Felicity Wexler lingers for as long as she is allowed on Platform 9 3/4 — standing beside next to a short, silver-haired woman in her early seventies, who leans heavily on a cane. With one arm linked with the elderly woman, helping support her, Felicity talks in near tears to her until the whistle blows it’s last warning and the ushers begin making final shouts. And it’s with deep, obvious reluctance that Felicity parts with her (not for the least of the matter that the lack of support almost causes the old woman to fall over, until two men on the platform come to help), make it on to the train. Tears in her eyes that she fights to hold back, Felicity makes her way quickly to the nearest cabin with a window looking out on her Grandmother Larsen — and without worrying about it being Briony who she has to press close to in order to look out the window and wave, she abandons her suitcase at the door and cuts straight to her objective, watching sadly as the two men help the old muggle woman toward a hearthstone so she can return home.

Sitting down to the lukewarm reaction from Gabe, Carrie actually bursts out in a tiny laugh, “You really don’t recognise me, do you? I’m offended, Mr. Gabriel Goden. I stole the quaffle enough times from you last year to think you’d have noticed me.” She winks, and plucks at her harp, noting, “Briony here has a sharper mindski, I see.” She also smiles to Felicity as she comes in, and quips, “Oh, my! I’ve boarded the Wexler compartment, I see!” Her smile doesn’t dip, though, and she even begins to play a quiet tune on the harp.

“What?” questions Gabriel, confused at Carrie and showing it with a perked eyebrow and ignoring Briony for the time being. “Oh,” he says, realization dawning on him finally. “Right, I guess I recognize you, K… C… uhh…” he stutters with her name, though he probably did know it at one point. “Yeah, I recognize you,” he says quickly and looks away, a little flushed. As luck would have it, he turns immediately to the teary Felicity. Even worse! Girls and their emotions…! In a last effort, he turns to Briony, safe and always cheerful Briony. “Yeah, I… I…” he starts before crossing his arms and smiling, maybe a little falsely. “I’ll tell you later… this summer was kind of… a failed mission.” He shrugs. “But yeah, my mum’s the head of Gryffindor again this year.”

Alden Wexler arches a brow as Felicity comes bolting in to the compartment, leaving her suitcase at what is, essentially, his feet. Exhaling a long sigh as the Felicity leans over Briony to get to the window, knowing at least in part the nature of the girl’s apprehension and tears, Alden (much like Gabe) looks away. Though his motion is bore more out of modesty than any embaressement. Without a word, he rises, takes Felicity’s trunk, and stretches himself once more to place it in to the racks.

As Felicity continues to cry, Carrie finally breaks her carefully constructed image to shuffle next to her and ask, “Hey, hey. You alright, Jane?” She rubs a hand over Felicity’s shoulder. “It’s alright… shush. It’s alright. I’ll play you a song, OK? Make everyone happy here?”

“Hey, I was here first,” Briony comments and frowns a bit. Felicity isn’t her favorite cousin, after all. Does Briony have a favorite cousin. “Get your own window seat if you want one.” Briony doesn’t say this with as much sourness as usual, because having seen Felicity’s grandmother, even Briony can’t help but feel a little bit sad for the girl. “Oh, a failed mission?” Briony responds to GAbriel, looking almost concerned at it. “Why did it fail? You should have let me help! We would have succeeded together. After all, I’m thirteen now. I’m every bit as good at stuff as you.” So Briony thinks anyway. The train has begun moving, and Briony shoots a beaming look of pride to Alden. “Look, isn’t it nifty? The train ride is so fun.”

Wiping a few tears from her cheeks that manage to escape despite her best efforts, Felicity looks briefly to Carrie — smiling a little, in a brave sort of way, before rising and pulling away somewhat from Briony and the window. “No, thank you, I’m alright –” Briony’s words, strangely, are somewhat comforting to her. The mild harshness in her tone is familiar, and so it’s in the nature of that solid rock that she pushes Briony on the arm (though decidedly more gentle than she would most other times, matching Briony’s understated kindness with some of her own) before flopping down next to her Gryffindor cousin. She passes a small smile of thanks back to Alden, for his putting her suitcase away, and decidedly keeps her gaze from the window as the trainstation fades well from view. Otherwise, she remains quiet.

“I said I’ll tell you later,” Gabriel re-states with much emphasis, eyeing the others in the compartment furtively. Really, it wasn’t the type of ‘mission’ one discussed openly while among others. “And…” though it pains Gabriel to say it, “I… don’t know if you’ll be able to help. Or anyone.” He blinks quickly a couple times before forcing a smile again and trying to change the subject. “It’s okay, Felicity, it’ll be summer again soon. Just think about how fast last year went,” he lies, trying to make her feel better about leaving.

Felicity Wexler nodding slightly to Gabe, in response to his comforting words — words she knows to be false, but words that are comforting never the less, she puts on her best smile, in an attempt to convince herself that she might believe them. Her hands fold in her lap, and she finally turns her gaze to Alden — somewhat curious what it is that Gabe is whispering about, but feeling a little to down to pry. “Are you excited?”

Alden Wexler shifts his gaze back to Felicity once she has regained control of herself, his expression mute — excitement, it would seem, wasn’t a part of his typical profile. “About Sorting, you mean?” Alden murmurs, thoughtfully. His voice mildly high pitched, and somewhat effeminate despite the clarity and certainty he pours in to his words. It only adds to the general air of “delicacy” that radiates from the child. “Not especially, no.”

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.

Exiting the train, Evan pauses after a few steps to hear Keelan’s familiar voice and watch the first years begin to separate. He looks in particular for one first year boy; upon spotting the child confidently walking off toward Keelan with a few others, he hurries to follow Olivia into the carriage.

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.

(Gryffindor) Being seemingly confused due to the events in the train compartment, Andy sits down at the Gryffindor table, keeping an eye on Orion. As Felicity comes in, he wishes he could be invisible or vanish in the ground. Still unsure how to handle the experience he looks down to the table, glancing up only from time to time, checking Orion and the Faculty table.

(Gryffindor) Forcing himself into something resembling a cheerful mood, Gabe glances up to the faculty table, too, as he seats himself at Gryffindor’s table. After he is unable to catch his mother’s eye (she seems busy talking to a child at the table, go figure), Gabriel shrugs, acting like he didn’t try to make eye contact in the first place. “These feasts are always the same, have you noticed?” he asks Briony with a perked brow. “Not that it’s a bad thing,” he adds, catching himself in what could be interpreted as a negative comment.

(Gryffindor) “Well, I suppose so,” Briony answer quickly, shrugging a bit. “I like watching people get sorted. And my brother’s going to be sorted, so I’ve got to pay attention. I do hope he’s in Gryffindor like me and mum and dad. I’ll be so disappointed if he isn’t.” She pauses. “Though, I’ll still like him no matter what house he’s in.” She sounds very rehearsed as she states this and then leans down with her chin in her palm. “I dunno if I’d like him to be in Slytherin, though. I don’t know many Slytherins that I like. I think they’re too mean.” Clearly, the girl hasn’t had many run-ins with Slytherins.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler sinks down in to a seat next to Andy, looking preoccupied and tired. Her gaze lowers toward her empty plate, and almost idly, she reaches up and takes a curly lock of hair between her fingers before absently moving it toward her lips.

(Gryffindor) “Like my sister you mean?” Gabe asks with a grin. “If she’s a model Slytherin, I’m glad that we don’t have much to do with them,” he says. “If my mum would have had another kid, I bet it would have been in Ravenclaw. Then mum would have a full set,” muses Gabriel , idly scratching an eyebrow. “It’s strange how we all ended up in different houses I think,” he continues with, picking up a fork and standing it on its tines, though not letting go. “Don’t you think?” he asks Briony, looking down afterwards.

(Gryffindor) “I guess it kind of is,” she answers cheerfully. “But my dad was in Gryffindor, and then Uncle Logan was in Slytherin — dad still doesn’t like that; I think he wishes Uncle Logan had been Gryffindor, too — and then Uncle Jared was a Ravenclaw and Uncle Gilbert was Hufflepuff, and then Uncle Freddie was Gryffindor, too, and Auntie Eva was Ravenclaw. So I guess they have all the houses, too. Maybe it’s not that uncommon. I wonder if any families have only people who go to one house. That would be neat, don’t you think?” Briony giggles as she says this, thinking more about it. “Imagine, a whole family of Ravenclaws. I bet they’d all own libraries!”

(Gryffindor) “No, no,” Gabriel says, being caught up in his excitement of times past. “One, a sister, would own a library. The parents would own a dusty museum and the brother would be the manager of Flourish and Blotts,” he says, ticking the entities off on his fingers. “The youngest sister would be an editor for the romance novels of the oldest sister, and the oldest brother would be a guide on the tours of his parents’ museum,” he says, grinning as he pictures the family, all with inch-thick glasses and disheveled hair.

(Gryffindor) “My mum was in Slytherin,” Felicity says, quietly, turning her gaze toward Gabriel and Briony. Her tone is somewhat shy, almost as if she isn’t certain she should be joining thier conversation. But all told, she needs to talk, to get the image of the receeding train station out her mind. “Dad, too, I think. I’ve never asked him. Not sure about my sisters, either, though I’d bet Maura was in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.” Felicity didn’t have much oppertunity to speak to her family often, socially, considering how busy they all were.

(Gryffindor) Sensing the pathetic tone in Felicity’s voice, without really understanding what she, Briony and Gabriel were talking about, Andy is torn between staying quiet and involve in the conversation and maybe find out what was her cause of concern. He finally lifts his gaze and turns to his housemates. “Hey, I…ahm…unfortunately didn’t find you in the train.” he attempts with a tiny voice.

(Gryffindor) “You don’t even know what houses they were in? How could you not know?” Gabe asks Felicity, obviously surprised at learning these things. Just how someone could never have heard what houses their family members were in is completely lost on Gabriel. The boy shrugs as he lets the subject drop, sensing somewhat that Felicity is still a bit depressed about leaving that woman he saw her waving to.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler cringes a little with subtle voracity of Gabriel’s question. Any other time, and she might have bristled, lashed back with a stressed few words of her own which, likely, would met and exceeded anything Gabe’s slightly exasperated question might have delivered with a hint of sack full of righteous anger. However, the simple fact that she has had a lingering, mild crush on Gabe ever since they were first years, combined with the nature of her current, delicate state, instead only lowers her voice and makes her retreat a little. “I.. mum and dad.. are just busy, I don’t see them.. much, and Maura and Ariena are so much older than me.. and they’re gone, living on their own.. and really, it’s just me and Grandmother Larsen.. and she’s a muggle..” Her voice sort of drifts away, accepting Gabe’s willingness to shrug and let it go, before turning to look to Andy. “What cabin were you in? Who did you sit with?”

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.

(Gryffindor) Andy shudders a bit at Felicity’s question, but answers right away. “Uhm…It was the…third, yes. And there was this Hufflepuff with me. Orion. I suppose you know him?” Andy tries to look into her eyes for the first time this evening. He can’t hide a hint of reproach in his glance.

(Gryffindor) Felicity Wexler blinks, twice, before looking at Andy wide-eyed. “You sat with Orion Kari?” A small, quiet hint of excitement fills her voice as she turns in her seat and reaches out to take both of Andy’s hands in both of her own. “What was he like? What happened? Did he say anything?”

(Gryffindor) Another world collapsing for Andy, every crumb of hope has just been blown away. Shutting his eyes for a split second, Andy gathers some power to be able to speak again. “He has been drawing, just sitting around, not talking much or let’s say hardly anything. Just not my type of person to be with, I think.” he replies, rolling his eyes a bit.

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.

(Gryffindor) Gasping, Briony‘s face falls ever so slightly as her brother is sorted into Hufflepuff. Brothers apparently are to go to different places than their sisters this year, and it is clear that Briony was hoping rather hard for him to come to Gryffindor. “He would have made such a dandy Gryffindor,” she comments. “It’s sad, now he’s a Hufflepuff.”

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.

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.

As the firsties to be arrive with the Professor, Astra hovers near two other children. Smiling at them both, she doesn’t hug them in front of the others but she does lift a hand to her mouth to stifle something from escaping her lips. When she’s gathered herself together, she clears her throat. “I’ll see you both shortly. Remember what I’ve said. Behave for Professor Walsh and mind your manners.” Then more softly, “I’m proud of both of you.” Barely smiling, she nods to Keelan and only passes one curious and sweeping glance over the new group of firsties. “I’ll be on my way then.” Turning on her heel, she leaves the room the way the unsorted children entered.

Keelan Walsh nods to Astra as the woman leaves her twins–whom Keelan gives a brief smile–, and directs the rest of the first years with, “That was Professor Rathe, Head of Slytherin House and your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Don’t be mistaken by her size,” given that Astra is, well, short, “She’s a very formiddable teacher, and you’re all lucky to be learning from her. One of the best, I’d say.” Of course, Keelan has no small amount of bias in the matter, since Astra was her first ever Quidditch Captain. Right. “So! This is Hogwarts. I’ll take you in a moment into the Great Hall and you’ll be Sorted. Remember, first impressions are vital so please don’t stand there drooling on yourselfs. Do take a moment to view the cieling, take a gander around, you only get one first glance and all too soon it will just be another room. Anyway, I’ll call your names and when I do step up and you’ll undergo the… trial.” A smirk,” that will determine your House.” She’s unkind. Besides, so many of them have older siblings who probably blabbed about the Hat anyway. She pauses, gives them a moment to let it sink in.

Though calmed by his mother’s departing words, Seker is still quite nervous despite his circumstances. Seker has lived at the castle for two years! Seker knows all the faculty! Really, all that Seker is concerned with is making Slytherin in the ceremony to come. Although his mother says she will be proud of both him and Satinka either way, Seker has always wanted Slytherin anyways. As he looks up to Keelan with a skeptical expression, Seker takes a deep breath and tries not to look at Satinka– she’d be able to see the apprehension in his eyes instantly.

Eying the group that walks in carefully, Satinka turns her attention to Keelan, almost seeming to defer to the woman already, though she does so with a certain familiarity. “Of course she’s good. She’s our mum,” Satinka respons quietly and grins. Though the girl has been confident in waiting so far, as she sees the others and their varying amounts of nervousness, Satinka herself cannot help but feel a little anxious as she looks at the door before her biting her lip carefully, but being careful not to look at Seker. Can’t be letting her brother think she’s nervous, after all!

Fern Featherstone tilts her narrow chin and looks up toward Keelan as she starts to speak. She seems concerned as the woman speaks of the trial, but then Fern has had not heard any stories of Hogwarts being from a muggle family. She tries to conceal her nervous concern, as she lifts her chin and draws back her shoulders. She then looks toward Satinka and Seker, studying them thoughtfully with her dark plum colored eyes, before quickly looking away.

Alden Wexler stands patiently near Keelan, waiting. Having already read deep in to ‘Hogwarts, A History’, and having heard about it from both Briony and Felicity, the ‘trial’ hardly frightens him. In fact, he may be the least nervous out of all of the children standing there, hands clasped before him, looking foward with a quiet expression.

Rhyne Castle takes in the room silently, eyes lighting briefly on Seker as he recognizes the boy from a chance meeting earlier in the year. He offers the boy a lop-sided smirk before turning his attentions back to Professor Walsh and the.. “trial” ahead.

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.

As you place the hat on your head, it snuggles down around your ears. A presence pokes at your brain, stealing through your memories before a dry and dusty voice whispers at the corners of your consciousness. ) ‘Now what have we here.’ ‘Hmm’ ‘Oh my, we are just rattling off old families this year, aren’t we? A Rathe? Now there’s a name I haven’t seen in eighteen years. I didn’t think I’d see any more of you. Well now, let’s get on with this shall we?’ ‘Yes, yes, I see how you are. Quite the certain little thing aren’t you? Bold and fearless, you could mark yourself as a leader in the Gryffindor like Cedric. Would you like that?’ ‘Oh, but there is more to you than that isn’t there?’ ‘Hmm. You do have ambitions and goals, you don’t like to be swayed from where you’re going and you’ll do whatever is in your power to excel. Yet, you don’t have the thirst of a Ravenclaw for knowledge or the hard-working tendencies of the Hufflepuff. That could only mean one other house.’ ‘What do you say on this?’

Satinka thinks, in response to the hat.oO Oh, that’s so peculiar. I don’t like that. Will you stop? I want to be in Slytherin. Not Gryffindor, if you please. Slytherin’s the only house worth being in.

‘Ah there it is – the legendary Rathe arrogance. You are just like the rest of them after all. Not Gryffindor then? Shame really, they could benefit from one such as you, but I do realize you wouldn’t be the best fit. Slytherin you say? Are you quite positive? They aren’t everything you might think they are. Best be careful what you wish for, sometimes you just might get it in ways you don’t expect. Off with you then and join your new family in…’

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

(Slytherin) Beaming happily as she is granted her wish, Satinka hops up from the stool, grinning almost smugly as she puts the hat back down and skips over to Slytherin table, plopping into an open seat cheerfully without much more than a glance to her brother.

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.

(Slytherin) Evan Geroff also gives a quick nod of greeting, along with a smile, in welcome to Fern and the other various first years that show up at their table. He keeps his eyes on Satinka while nodding his agreement to Louis however, then chuckles. “Well, there you go.” “Welcome, Satinka!” is called over across the table.

“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.

(Slytherin) “Bravo Satinka! I knew you’d make it into the best house.” Cheers Louis as he claps loudly now turning his attention to her brother now awaitng the announcment.

(Slytherin) “I told you so!” Satinka tells the familiar boy as she looks around at those with whom she will share her house and colors for the next seven years, give or take. “I knew I would be Slytherin all along. The house said I should be in Gryffindor, but I gave him what-for. Who wants to be a stinking Gryffindor, anyway?”

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.

(Slytherin) “Hufflepuff?!” Shouts Louis in surprise. “Well… I guess that’s not so bad. Hufflepuff is the second best house you know.” He says to Fern and Satinka clapping for Seker. His smile doesn’t fade as he looks over at the Hufflepuff table presumably at Alexandra.

(Slytherin) Fern joins the Slytherin table and she smiles shyly toward Louis and Evan. She then glances toward Satinka, looking her over thoughtfully and then curving her thin pink lips into another smile. She then giggles as Louis speaks to her. “No, I didn’t know that. I only heard that Ravenclaws are arrogant.”

(Slytherin) Gaping, Satinka gasps loudly as her brother is sorted into Hufflepuff. “No!” she calls rather loudly and then claps a hand over her mouth. “How on earth — the hat must be daffy to put him there!” Satinka is obviously flustered and shocked at this and she can’t believe it. Though, Louis’s shock does settle her a little bit. “Oh, no, how could he? He obviously didn’t tell the hat what he wanted like he should have. Oh, I should have told him to be firm with that hat. After all, it’s just a hat.”

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.

(Slytherin) Fern looks toward Satinka and she giggles in response to her words. “Maybe he wanted to go there. I mean maybe he didn’t want to always hang about with his sister or something.”

(Slytherin) “Looks like you’re a better arguer than he is, then,” Evan notes, after a pause, as Seker gets Hufflepuff. Though he’d rather though they might both end up together. A small chuckle to Louis accompanies his next words, “There are some fine people in Hufflepuff. He’ll be fine..” Of course, his attention is captured by Galen’s sorting, as he gives a cheerful wave of welcome to the boy as he walks over.

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.

(Slytherin) “Well, that’s got to be a load of nonsense. Hasn’t he been talking about being in Slytherin ever since we got here? The hat must have sorted him wrong. I’m going to see if I can get it overturned. Bollocks.” Satinka looks decidedly bristled and she shoots a glare in Fern’s direction, though it comes out as more of a pout than a glare. “Just so wrong, so wrong.” “Supposed to be Slytherin.” “Rathe family way.” “Some brother.” Clearly her shock has now morphed.

(Slytherin) A grin comes over Louis‘ face. “No the Hat will always put you where you ask it to go I think. It told me I belonged in Hufflepuff.” He chuckles a little and moves his hair from his eyes. “But I told it Slytherin and here I am.”

(Slytherin) “Always? I’m sure there are some people that simply belong in a different house, whatever they say..” Evan trails off, giving Satinka another glance. “Try it if you like. Galen here managed to join his sisters’ house.” Galen, however, seems reluctant to say anything to that and chance the other first year’s wrath.

(Slytherin) Fern looks toward Satinka and sticks out her small pink tongue in response to her words. She then looks toward Louis and giggles. “See, he said he wanted to be in a different house and you were sorted first, so…”

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.

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.

(Slytherin) “Well … as far as I know always.” Louis looks over to Evan and shrugs, he quickly becomes quiet to focus his attention on the Head Mistress signaling for a few Slytherin Second and First years to be quiet.

(Slytherin) Fern falls silent upon noticing Louis’ signal and now she looks toward Melvina.

“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.

(Slytherin) When the Head Mistress sits and the food appears Louis sighs a breath of relief “Finally, I though she’d never stop talking.” Either a sign of disrespect for the Head Mistress or a sign of absolute hunger Louis begins spooning up potatoes and grabbing large pieces of chicken. Divvying them up on his plate.

(Slytherin) Looking quite gleeful as the headmistress stops talking, Satinka sighs happily. “I’m starved,” she comments, more for effect than anything else. After all, she’d had a late lunch in preparation. She’d heard the stories and seen the looks on everyone’s faces. Nevertheless, she starts to pull some things onto her plate, some sweet potatoes, some chicken, a bit of ham, and various other fruits and things, looking quite calm and not the least bit surprised at the spread.

(Slytherin) Fern listens carefully to the Head Mistress’ words, but when Louis speaks she looks in his direction. “Yeah, she talked a whole bunch. I couldn’t pay attention to it all. I hope I didn’t miss anything important.” She says and then reaches for a drumstick. As Satinka reaches for some fruit, Fern copies her, taking some of the same sweet food.

(Slytherin) Listening quietly to the long list of announcements, Professor Rathe’s appointment as Deputy Headmistress earns a bit of applause. The next announcement to draw any notable reaction from Evan comes at the end; this year, instead of surprise, the announcement of the ball is accompanied by a glance and smile toward the Hufflepuff table. As the food appears, though, he brings himself to look back at his own table. “You’re in a hurry. Roll?” he offers, holding a dish to Louis and then others around him.

(Slytherin) “Oh nothing too important, Just don’t go into the woods and watch out for the Reeks.” The last part is obviously a joke that Louis directs to Fern. He turns to look at Evan, “So Evan… coming to tryouts? I erm… I probably forgot to mention that I was made captain this year.” It came out very awkward, and why wouldn’t it? Louis had been made captain over Evan who is older. Bound to make any meal awkward.

(Slytherin) Fern looks toward Louis and blinks in response to his words. “What is a reek?” She questions softly. Seh then pauses and takes a bite of her chicken.

(Slytherin) “Did you hear that?” Satinka comments cheerfully, butting into whatever conversations might be being held. “MY mum is Deputy Headmistress. MY mum us.” Satinka seems puffed up with pride and she pauses only a moment with a wide grin before looking to her plate. “I want to join the team,” she informs Louis frankly. “I think I’d be a brilliant seeker, though perhaps I could play chaser as well. Mum won’t get me a broom, though, so I’ll have to use a school broom for it.” She grins as she says this and begins eating some more of what’s on her plate.

(Slytherin) “Mister Harper,” Tahiri says, finally, her voice lifting from the silence as she looks up from her plate to Louis. A statuesque beauty, chisled from olive-hued marble. “Do you expect that Miss Leong will ask you to the Social?”

(Slytherin) Evan Geroff shakes his head at Louis, a slight smile given in appreciation of his joke, and the boy says nothing to correct it right away. He begins to nod in response to Louis’ question, but stops as he hears what else Louis has to say, and his smile falters. “She’ll be great,” Evan pointedly comments to Satinka about her mother, only after – when he’s had all of those few seconds to think about it – turning back to Louis. “No, I.. I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it,” he says stiffly, carefully taking a bite from his plate without bothering to look at what he’s got.

(Slytherin) Fern looks toward Satinka as she speaks. “Um, I don’t know about riding on brooms, sounds kind of..” She then trails off leaving something unsaid.

(Slytherin) “Well you’ll learn about Reeks in your second year Fern till then just watch out for them.” Louis chuckles a bit more at his further joke between bites, no he doesn’t intend to tell her what a Reek is. He nods to Satinka “Oh well you should try out next year when you are allowed to have a broo….” He pauses and turns to Tahiri “Maybe she will… maybe… um…” And then Evan speaks up giving him an excuse to talk about something else. “What? Why not? Don’t you want to take the cup back from Ravenclaw?” Louis looks absolutely shocked at Evan’s announcement.

(Slytherin) “Oh, it’s ever so exciting!” The girl tells the other first year. “You go so fast, and it’s perfectly safe.” This is perhaps an exaggeration. “Anyway, I wouldn’t be afraid of the forest. I’ve heard it’s just a bunch of nonsense that the teachers drum up to keep students from playing in there. There are unicorns in there, after all! What’s so bad about a unicorn? It’s only really bad, then, if you get caught doing it. And, of course, if you’re smart, you just won’t bother getting caught.” The girl says this like it’s the simplest thing in the world to avoid being caught. “No, not next year. I’m going to be on the team this year. I’m sure I can get some help with one of the school brooms in the meantime. Or maybe mum would buy me a broom then, if I make the team. I’ll show you what I’ve got at tryouts, after all.” Satinka grins as she says this and polishes off her pumpkin juice completely before working on a bit of chicken.

(Slytherin) “That had indeed been my plan,” Evan notes to Louis, voice still stiff, sounding rather.. extremely controlled. “But clearly I’m not needed.” Satinka gives him a bit of needed relief, as he motions to her, “Let her be chaser; I’m sure she’ll make a fit replacement.”

(Slytherin) “If it does, do you imagine it will effect your performance on the pitch? The offer I made last you stands.” Tahiri murmurs, flatly. Her tone simple and precise. Of course, refering to the time that she assured Louis that if he couldn’t floor Leong with a bludger, that she would.

(Slytherin) Fern looks toward Louis, seemingly overwhelmed by curiousity over what a Reek is. “Um, okay.” She murmers in response to his words. She then reaches for a roll and takes a quick bite of such.

(Slytherin) Completely dumbstruck by Satinka telling him to put her on the team and Evan’s apparent disapproval of his being made captain Louis sits quietly staring between the two. “Im sorry Satinka, first years aren’t allowed to play. Those are just the rules.” He tries to phrase it as gently as possible and then turns to Evan with a bit of an insulted look on his face. “Well I do need you, what are you on about anyway? Don’t like that I was made captain and not you Mister Prefect?” It was said much sharper than it needed to be that’s for sure. He looks at Tahiri for a moment and has no idea what to say other than “No, don’t kill Leong with a bludger… she’s my friend.”

(Slytherin) Evan Geroff bristles at Louis’ sharper tone, sitting up, if possible, straighter than he already was, and completely disregarding his food. “I’d speak to me with more respect if I were you.” “If a fourth year was made captain, clearly the skills of anyone older are completely worthless. So no, Mister Harper, you obviously don’t need me. I’m sure Miss Rathe would be preferable to my apparently worthless talent.”

(Slytherin) Tahiri Sol lofts a brow, looking to Evan with a curious look, though she says nothing.

(Slytherin) Fern looks toward Evan, seemingly concerned and she gasps softly.

(Slytherin) “Oh, come now, you guys should just get over it. You don’t see me fussing over the sorting hat being wrong about my brother’s house, after all. Anyway, that’s not true. You can be on the team as a first year, you just can’t have a broom. I’m good enough, you’ll see.” She grins broadly and watches as Evan and Louis continue to interact. Clearly one or the other or both are rather upset by something, though Satinka can’t see any reason why this would be. It’s a feast! A happy day! Ah, to be eleven.

(Slytherin) Disregarding his food as well… albeit with a disappointed look on his face (Louis really wanted that food you know) Louis shakes his head. “So that’s it then? Two years playing together and your just going to quit over something trivial? You don’t see Miss Sol handing in her beater’s bat do you?” He asks the Prefect aware that his tone is still slightly sharp. Louis looks to Tahiri pleadingly now half expecting her to literally hand in her bat. Louis turns again to Satinka and he looks all ready to get a bit mean with her before remembering that she is A, a first year and B, Astra’s own daughter. “Fine fine…. show up for tryouts if you can get a broom lent to you. Just know that it’s very unlikely… unless you show a great deal of maturity.” He turns to Evan though still speaking to Satinka “Unlike certain others.”

(Slytherin) Fern takes another bite of her chicken. She then looks toward Satinka with a thoughtful expression. “Um, can I watch you try out?” She questions. Next Fern looks toward Louis, seemingly rather confused.

(Slytherin) “I haven’t it with me,” Tahiri reassure Louis in a placid voice as he looks almost pleadingly at her. Not exactly the greatest words of confidence ever, though obviously Tahiri finds them satisfactory, as she turns back to her plate. The further arguement losing her interest.

(Slytherin) “Watch it, Louis.” Evan‘s voice has, for this warning, taken on an equally sharper tone. “Before I give you detention for that disrespect.” Though still upset, the warning level of his tone now fades again somewhat, to his stiffly-matter-of-fact previous manner of speaking. “It’s hardly trivial. You know Captainship goes to whoever would be best, and also oldest, as a large part of that is experience. If I have been passed up, that means that both Martin and Professor Rathe believe I am useless to the team. It has nothing to do with you nor do I have anything against you.” Nothing. Even as he nearly spits the word ‘you.’

(Slytherin) Turning bright red in the face at Tahiri’s usual unreadable attitude and Evan’s spitefull sound denouncement of spite Louis bites his lower lip. “I have no idea why you were skipped over Ev…” But Louis pauses and instead says “Mister Prefect. But not to worry, I’ll find you a replacement and we will win the Quidditch cup this year and it’ll be no thanks to you.” Okay that was pretty much the idea had in mind Louis. With that he pushes both his food and drink away and crosses his arms over his chest well put off.

(Slytherin) Evan Geroff gives a brief nod. “See that you do. I still intend to take both cups this year.” Glancing down the table, not necessarily calmed, but also not really mad at Louis, he only adds one final comment. “Because I can give the whole team detention for not trying hard enough, you know.” Whether he actually would is a different issue, and subsiding, he turns his attention to his food, not exactly hungry yet stubbornly taking bite after bite.

(Slytherin) Finally giving up on his dinner, Evan has had a chance to calm down and make sure he’s taking nothing out on the first years. He glances around once to make sure the feast seems to be ending, then calls down the table, “First years..” Once he thinks he has their attention he adds, “I’ll show you to the common room now. Come with me.” And stands.

(Slytherin) Upon hearing Evan’s words, Fern rises to her feet and takes a step toward the perfect, seemingly ready to follow after him. “Oh, okay, thanks.” She murmers softly.

(Slytherin) “Alright! I can’t wait to see it. I heard it flooded once. That is, before the school rearranged. My mum wouldn’t let me see it. She told me I had to wait until I was sorted, but I knew I would be sorted into Slytherin. Though, the hat got Seker wrong, obviously, so I suppose it could have gotten me wrong, too.” It is but a brief moment that Satinka pauses while she hops up cheerfully from the table. “But that’s alright, I knew it all along that I’d be Slytherin. Oh, Ophiuchus should be in the commonroom waiting for me, right?” Satinka does not bother explaining just who Ophiuchus might be.

“I’m glad it didn’t,” Evan comments to Satinka, not bothering to argue about whether it was really ‘wrong.’ As they and the other first years assemble, Galen walking up toward his side where a few of the firsties seem afraid to go at the moment, he waves a hand toward one of the doorways and starts walking. “This way…”

Rising from her place at the faculty table and clearing her throat loudly in a meaningful manner, Melvina lifts her hands motions for the room to quiet. The hall is lavishly decorated in blue and silver, as seems the tradition for the current house points holder. “Hello, dear students of Hogwarts term 1926 to 1927. Or, more aptly, I should say, goodbye. What a year it has been! Yes, indeed. But, before we travel much further done this ceremonial road designed to fill our bellies, hearts, and minds until our next fine year of learning, it is my great honor of announcing to you all we have with us a special guest, joining us for a good-will mission of sorts. If you will please direct your attention, and warmly welcome…” withdrawing her long wand from the sleeve of her emerald green robes, Melvina gives the length of cherry wood a dramatic flick. The huge double doors at the rear of the hall swings open slowly, their loud creak filling the room.

As the doors swing open to allow a view into the entrance hall, it is Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic, who is revealed standing behind them. Her eyes flit over the tables of students quickly, head not turning, before she takes her first steps into the room. From there it is a straight walk up the middle aisle, somewhat formal dark robes swishing slightly as they hang around her, until she has joined Melvina at the front of the hall. When she reaches it she gives a brief nod of greating to Melvina. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

(Faculty) Bonnie, who has been expecting a rather typical — or boring, however one might put it — end of year feast, is startled at this. Assuming that perhaps the events of the school year might have something to do with this, she sits up straighter, watching down the end of the room with perhaps a bit less awe and pure curiosity than the students all seem to have. As the Minister for Magic enters, however, Bonnie‘s mental assumptions seem to have been proved true while she leans back again. Though, of course, what the Minister would have to do with an end of the year sorting, the teacher can only guess.

Melvina Prichard returns the nod with one of her own, her lips painted with a quiet, half-amused grin that is pertepually a part of her character. Perhaps more so now than on average. She did so enjoy the dramatics. “Naturally, Minister,” she replies, before finishing her introduction to the crowd. “Sylvie Winters-Geroff, Minister for Magic.” She offers some time for the stunned silence and whatever applauses might creep up out of the shock, before pushing on. “The Minister’s time is short, and she has a very special purpose for visiting us today, so I will turn the floor, and my pedistal, over to her. Minister?” Stepping away from the podium from which Melvina usually stands behind, she motions for Sylvie to take it, before returning to her seat.

(Faculty) Apparently expecting something of the sort, Astra leans back casually in her chair. Her left hand dangles at her side, but she instinctually reaches for the flask that is ever at easy reach. Fingers settle around the familiar friend, but she does not pull it out. An actual smile lights her features when Sylvie enters the room, but it fades quickly and she begins to eye the ceiling of the hall in a casual manner.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh is sitting unusually stiffly, looking about as comfortable as she normally does when the hall is bedeked in Ravenclaw’s colors. Still, at the announcement, the green-clad Herbology professor quirks her head to the side. With eyebrows raised and expression clearly registering surprise at the notion of a guest, she waits expectantly for the entrance. When she sees who it is however, Keelan actually smiles and briefly applauds. After all, outside of being Minister for Magic, Sylvie Winters(-Geroff!) had been her first Head of House. That alone commands a nostalgic respect. Soon enough, she settles down, stiff-backed again, to wait.

(Faculty) “Oh my…” comes Sibyl Wexler‘s impressed murmur, from her seat at the end of the Faculty table. Her eyes widen as she follows the Minister’s progress down the aisle, and she pulls herself a little straighter in her chair as she applauds. She makes no move to do anything more strenuous, though – this late in her pregnancy, Sibyl has grown large enough that staying seated is a much more comfortable option than anything else. The nurse’s cheerful smile is undimmed, though, and she turns to look at first Melvina and then the Minister with growing interest and raised eyebrows.

“Thank you, again.” As Melvina takes her seat, Sylvie turns to fully face the students, pausing a moment as she looks over them again before she starts speaking. It’s been a few years since she’s been in this exact position, after all, though many of the older students are still familiar. “I am here today to honor two of your peers, two of the wizarding world’s finest citizens, for their great efforts put forth this past year on behalf of one of your professors.” A very quick glance is directed back at Karina. “Miss Eliza Marlowe, Mister Martin Foster, would you please join me?”

With a startled gasp, Eliza Marlowe springs to her feet, unfolding gracefully to her full height despite the fact that her mouth is still hanging open in surprise. It stays open as she exchanges a glance across the room with Martin over the heads of the other students – then looks back to the Minister, and then to Karina, and then to the Minister again. Slowly at first, and then faster as the initial shock wears away, Eliza strides down the aisle towards the head table, a slow, incredulous smile beginning to spread across her face.

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard continues to watch the Minister, even after she sits, her half-amused expression lingering on her lips. A handful of the faculity were made aware of the events that were about to take place, but owing to a love of the theatrical, Melvina had naturally left some out. After all, what is a surprise if everyone knows what will happen. That thought proves a bit to much, though, and the Headmistress does find herself having to take a sit of the flagon of water in front her to briefly hide a small chuckle.

(Faculty) Grinning mischievously at the events as they unfold, Astra too has an obvious love for the theatrics, but unlike Melvina she takes few pains to hide the sly smile or the soft chuckle that follows. Glancing sidelong at the Headmistress, the teacher purses her lips and forces herself not to say a word. The grip on her flask relaxes and she withdraws her fingers from the object. Settling both hands in her lap, she sits up straight and returns her gaze to the Minister and the students in question.

Sylvie Winters-Geroff offers a brief smile to the Head Boy and Girl as they walk forward, waiting until both have reached the front of the room before she speaks again. “Mister Foster and Miss Marlowe played a crucial role in researching and apprehending Immanual Irving, a man who was working illegally to create and test dangerous potions.” She leave the explanation at that; the news of the trial likely spread even to here. “In doing so, they also cleared the name of Professor Sedgewick, for which I know we are all very grateful.” “For their skill, determination, and bravery in assisting the Ministry in this way, each will be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class.”

(Faculty) Bonnie‘s eyebrow raises as she turns to see that Astra looks awfully smug several seats down the table. While the Divination professor would like to lean down and ask the woman, it certainly wouldn’t be very good form to do this while the Minister for Magic is speaking and she keeps mum, instead turning her face foward again, taking in the woman’s speech further.

“What?” Eliza‘s exclamation carries to every corner of the Great Hall, and her mouth hangs open again for a moment after it is done. She looks swiftly over at Martin, as if to check whether he’s heard the same thing that she has. “Order of – First class?” Eliza repeats, her powerful voice barely a whisper now. And then she looks back at Sylvie, gulps, and straightens up, unfurling her shoulders to stand at attention before the Minister. Another smile starts to edge up the corners of Eliza‘s mouth, smaller, wondering, and proud.

(Faculty) Continuing to look rather impish than full of herself, Astra grins a touch wider to show teeth. She’s enjoying this scene very much, although it’s a personal sort of pleasure that bursts into full bloom when Sylvie finally makes her announcement. Clapping, she purposefully controls her reaction and bites back a shout of joy for the two young adults so awarded.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh doesn’t look too surprised, though she could just be covering up her expression for once. A soft smile spreads across her features, but in all reality they weren’t her closest students by a wide margin, not having the scores for her particular class. Still, should they look her way for any reason, the smile will widen appreciatively. So they saved the professor of her least favorite subject; At least they had and the Ministry wasn’t ignoring it. Keelan glances briefly down the table toward Karina, and then sets her expresison forward again, hands folding across her lap.

Slight smile back as she watches Eliza and Martin’s reactions, Sylvie waits until the large amounts of cheering have died down again before continuing. When it finally does, she turns to face the Head Boy and Girl, taking a single step toward them to present each with the award and offer a handshake. Alongside this she adds, “Thank you, both, for your services. I’m glad to know there are people such as you, and am sure you will both do well once you leave these walls.” She offers another, larger smile to the two, before turning back to the student body at large. “It has been a pleasure to be here with you today. With no further ado, I turn you back to your Headmistress.”

With a steady hand, Eliza reaches out to accept the award, shaking the Minister’s hand firmly with the other. She stands even taller, if that were possible, and her smile shines forth into a full-force grin as she closes her hand around her Order of Merlin. But Eliza‘s eyes are shining with more than pride – as she withdraws from the handshake, she hastily reaches up to scrub at her eyes with the heel of her hand, swallowing hard even amid her smiles.

Rising from the Faculty table after Eliza and Martin have accepted the rewards, Melvina applauds loudly, after after a few moments, motions for everyone to rise and applaud as well. And with some satisfaction, she notes that the applause is both loud and very sincere. “Thank you, Minister, and congratulations to the Head Boy and Head Girl! Let us praise our fine student leaders by honoring the with the school song!” Giving a great, wordless, hooting cheer, the Headmistress breaks in to a very loud, very happy round of largely off-key song, in hopes that the room follows her lead in good cheer. “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something, please! Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees! Our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff! For now they’re bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff! So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we’ve forgot! Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!” And only once the Headmistress-invited standing ovation and song has progressed for several minutes, the Headmistress makes motion for everyone to quiet again. Turning to Sylvie, Martin, and Eliza, Melvina grins, warmly. Obviously quite jovile, even if there is a small mark of seriousness in her eyes. “Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster, please remain there for a moment. Thank you, Minister. I know you have pressing a pressing agenda, but if you could see fit to stay, I’m sure my staff would make room for you at our table. The meals are as lovely still as I’m sure you remember.” The offer made, she looks back to the crowd of students, her rich brown eyes twinkling, “Now, moving right along..”

“Indeed, indeed. Well done, Miss Marlowe, Mister Foster. You have both performed an act and bravery and cunning that speaks well of yourselves and this school. It is with a genuine heart that I, the faculty of Hogwarts School, and your fellow students congratulate you. However,” Melvina notes, the mirth leaving her expression at the note of that last word. The Headmistress’ tone becoming gravely serious. “As prefects, and certainly Head Boy and Head Girl, you of all pairs should know that rules are rules, and are not to be broken lightly, even in the wake of such good tidings or favorable results. Thus, I fear I must make some last moment addendums to our house rankings.”

Stepping back to allow the Headmistress the spotlight along with the two students, Sylvie joins in with the last round of clapping as the room stands up. As the clapping.. and, later, song.. fade off and Melvina resumes her speech, Sylvie apparently accepts the invitation to stay. After all, who would refuse the Hogwarts feast? And the beginning of Melvina’s speech finds her at the Faculty table.

(Faculty) Mumbling the school song with no great enthusiasm, Astra‘s lips move nicely but the words are more spoken than sung and what does manage to be audible is more a whisper of jumbled words. As Melvina begins her own speech, the remaining smile fades away.

Basking in the glow of applause and praise, Eliza stands at the front of the room, pushing back the tears of joy and pride that threaten to spill out of her shining eyes. She tosses her head back, and lifts her chin higher in a show of strength, struggling to keep her smile from wavering. And then the Headmistress’s next announcement comes – and Eliza‘s expressive face melts into a look of sudden apprehension. She exchanges an entirely different kind of look with Martin now, worried and uncertain.

“For leaving the school grounds without express permission or escort of myself or one of the school faculity, I find that I must penalize both the Head Boy and Head Girl by twenty points each.” Knowing what an unpopular announcement that will be, especially after such a jolly congratulations, Melvina similar waits and allows that to sink in. Noting those who boo with the same quiet, grave expression.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh sings the school song with all the enthusiasm of a dead rock–that is, she sort of opens and shuts her mouth once or twice but not sound comes out and her cheeks turn a rosy shade of red. Her nostrils flare at the reduction of points, and it’s in a still inaudible mutter that the professor comments, “As if Ravenclaw needed more of a lead in order to win.” She resumes her unpleasant posture of ‘getting through the feast’. Very mature. No. Honest!

Eliza lifts her chin higher still – not in defiance, but in acceptance. She stands just as straight and tall as ever, even with the burden of losing her House points as one of her last acts as a Hufflepuff – but Eliza still can’t quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her housemates, or Martin.

Once Melvina has let that reality sink in, that Ravenclaw’s lead had become absolute, the Headmistress continues. Her expression equally as serious and tone just as grave. “However, I would be remiss in following Hogwarts policy if I didn’t then, in turn, reward your fine accomplishments as well.” It’s only then than the tell-tale twinkle in her eyes glimmers as she shifts her gaze toward Martin and Eliza. “With dedication and cunning that exemplifies the core traits of both your houses, Miss Marlowe and Mister Foster, you two alone subdued and helped bring to justice a singularly Dark Wizard, and cleared our dear Professor Sedgewick’s name. For that, I have the great pleasure of awarding you fifty points, each.”

Continuing on, as if not to lose her momentum, Melvina adds in a grand voice, “Further, I award Martin Foster another fifty points efforts that saved the lives of third year Louis Harper and our Professor Rathe while putting himself under great personal risk.” Drawing a deep breath, Melvina grins, quite suddenly, and opens another round of applause, before looking down to Martin and Eliza, nodding that after they have soaked up enough praise, they may return to their tables.

And Eliza‘s grin bursts forth again, spilling over into a laugh of relief and triumph. She reaches over to shake Martin’s hand, and then changes it to an enthusiastic thump on his shoulder. With the momentary anxiety entirely dispelled, Eliza is free to let her joy emerge again, and she strides – no, runs back to the Hufflepuff table to rejoin her housemates for one last time.

(Faculty) Keelan Walsh is watching the giant hourglasses fill and lets out a rather unprofessional, “Ha!”, turns bright red, and then murmurs, “Rather, congratulations to them. Deserved it, of course. Hard work.” Lower, probably just to whomever is closest to her (in all likelyhood, Julie), “Not being Ravenclaws.” Back to herself, she smiles at Astra and Melvina and the Slytherin in general. At least she resisted the urge to smirk at the Ravenclaws. After all, who knows, maybe some of the first years saved a barrage of house elves while nobody was looking and they’ll win again anyway. She waits.

“Our Hogwarts family has endured much this term, and by sheer pluck of our students and faculty, we have emerged from the struggle stronger and shining brighter than we ever have. It is on that note, that I also wish to praise Professor Sedgewick and Professor Rathe,” Melvina continues, after the applauses have died down again. “Professor Sedgewick, of course, endured a grueling assault on her character and soul and perserved as best as one could expect. Professor Rathe showed great strength of character and soul in during the trial of Paul Clairwill, and such fortitude and bravery should be rewarded. Thought it would be unfair for me to award house points, or implore upon our dear visiting Minister to grant medals as were just recieved by our esteemed Head Boy and Head Girl, I believe they are each equally deserving of said regards, and we should all be proud of them, and of there connections to us and this school.” Again, leading a round of applause, Melvina then turns to Astra with a grin brimming with genuine pride, and motions to the blue and bronze decorations lining the room. “I believe we have a new House Champion, do we not? If you would do the honors?”

Standing up, there is a pause as the small woman reaches into her cloak to retrieve her wand. Looking rather perplexed as her name was mentioned, Astra tries to cover up her discomfort with a tight smile and a muttered, ‘my pleasure.’ Following that there she moves swiftly with a snapping motion of her wrist and wand, the banners flip from Blue and Bronze to Green and Silver changing to display from Ravenclaw to Slytherin colors. Astra‘s smile faded during the loss of points, but now she bestows a very pleased expression upon the Slytherin table as she tucks the wand away and retakes her seat without a word.

“Congratulatuions, Slytherin house! Now, only one more thing to say, before we enjoy –” With her still withdrawn wand, Melvina negligantly flicks it at the direction of the tables, summoning the End of Year Feast for everyone to enjoy. “– the fine food which has been prepared for us. This has been my first year at Hogwarts School, but it has been a fine one. Thank you all for that. When I arived, this was an imposing castle, something I remembered from my youth. A daunting job. But thanks to you all, staff and students alike, I felt welcomed, and now, I can’t help but see this place as my home. For those of you students who will return next year, remember that magic use over the summer is strictly prohibitted, and that next year I hope we can grow together as much as we have this one. For those of you graduating and going out in to the world, we have only had the oppertunity to touch each other’s lives briefly, but I hope you will remember me and this place fondly, as I will remember you. My first graduating class as the luckiest woman in the world, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Eat well.” And with that, Melvina sits, smiling quietly.

(Faculty) Chuckling darkly as the Headmistress resumes her seat, Astra does reach for her flask this time. Opening it, she pours some of the contents into her goblet. Stopping it back up, she puts it away and reaches for the goblet. “Ah yes, a warm welcome from the staff,” grinning sharply her dry humor hasn’t changed in the slightest. “That’s not exactly how I’d phrase such things but then,” raising the glass to Melvina, “You’ve grown on me. I hope we all have a better year next year.” Sweeping her arm to include those down the table away from her, she smiles to all gathered at the table. “To all of us, it’s been interesting this year if not always pleasurable.”

(Faculty) Melvina Prichard chuckles, softly, passing a vague glance to Astra with a coy sort of expression. “Truly? It must be age, then, as I was certain everyone at this table welcomed me with open arms.” Her tone is laced with a similar dry amusement that marks Astra’s, though her expression softens noticably at the gesture made by the Defense Master. Taking up her own tankard, she lifts it as well, in response. “To all of us. Hear, hear.”

(Faculty) “Poor Ravenclaw,” is all Bonnie comments before she begins to fill her plate with some of the delectable cuisine from before her. The smug looks on some faces before her causes the woman to chuckle, however, and she does seem amused at how the various houses are taking the news.

(Faculty) “The Ravenclaw did very well for themselves this year with Quidditch and they managed to get the House Cup last year. I’m sure they’ll continue proving themselves.” Smiling a little fondly, Astra takes a drink from her goblet, but ignores all the food on the table. “I’m proud of the Slytherin. I don’t know when the last time was that the won a House Cup, but even if they don’t win again it’s good to see they’re turning around and actually caring.” “I’m a bit sad for Hufflepuff actually they did very well this year. Maybe next year they’ll surprise us all.” While she’s not the kind to typically make conversation, she is trying and more, she’s actuall