The Start of Term Feast

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Open to all residents of Hogwarts.


Wednesday, September 1st, 2117.
The Great Hall - evening.


The Great Hall was sparkling under a thousand floating candles, each drifting in a whimsical circle where it hovered. The sky above was a dark, deep blue, the starts twinkling in the distance like reflections of the flames below. Towering banners lining the walls left and right of the entrance were boldly marked with the colours of the schools four houses; the bold scarlet and gold of Gryffindor, stamped with a roaring lion; Hufflepuff's warm yellow, bordered with black, the loyal badger as its totem. Ravenclaw's blue and bronze, adorned with a soaring eagle, and Slytherin. A coiled snake, on a border of green and striking silver.

The long benches that ran the length of the hall were lined with students, talking and laughing as they reacquainted after the holidays. But at the creak of the large double doors that were the Hall's entrance, a hush fell over the assembled students; bar the shuffling of robes as they turned to look at the open doorway.

There, looking very small amongst so many older faces, were 2117's first years; fresh from the boats that had carried them across the lake and about to be sorted into the houses they would spend the next seven years in.

Professor Bat; an eccentric looking woman with a wide smile, frizzy red hair and a small pair of round, gold-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of her thin noze, clapped her hands; beaming at the first years. Then she turned, and began to stride down the wide path in the centre of the room, clearly expecting the children to follow. Their destination was clear: at the front of the hall, at the base of the teachers' dias stood a sturdy wooden stool. On top of the stool sat a rather old and ragged, pointed hat. As they fell into line before it, the hat stirred; what had looked like a fold in its' surface shaping itself into a makeshift mouth.

"Ahem," the hat made a noise as if it were clearing it's throat, though it didn't have one. Then it began to sing;



"The time has come, my little friends,
to talk of many things!
Like whether class will ever end,
and why a snitch has wings;

but first we'd better sort you out,
so put me round your ears,
I'll tell you what you're all about,
your hopes and dreams and fears;

If strength, fortune and family fame
are what you're aiming for,
you might fit in in Slytherin;
and then there's Gryffindor,
where bravery and nerve win out,
or maybe loyalty's your stuff,
your friendships strong as stone,
then you might belong in Hufflepuff,
where you'll never be alone.
And Ravenclaw, the house of wits,
where intelligence is key,
if your mind is great, you'll surely fit...

not sure? Well, leave that up to me. "



When the applause had died down, Professor Bat unrolled the parchment they held clutched in one hand, and looked up at the nervous students before them.

"Kattalin Lide D'Hearna," she proclaimed in a loud voice with a sweeping gesture toward the stool and the hat, beckoning the first of the students' to be sorted forwards.

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Ella looked up from her place on the Slytherin table, surveying the line of bedraggled looking first-years with skeptical eyes. Who would Slytherin gain this year? None of them looked particularly promising - not to her, anyway.

Though she could hardly be called easily impressed.

The brunette tucked her hair behind her ear, adopting a bored look as the hat began its song. Terrible, as usual. It had an entire year to come up with this crap; surely it could come up with something halfway decent? As Batty called the name of the first to be sorted, Ella her back to the table, propping herself on her elbows to watch the Sorting, her expression one of someone waiting for something tedious to be over.



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Tilly bounced slightly where she stood, her eyes wide as she craned her head to take in the sight of the Great Hall. The dazzling sky, the Professors, watching from the dias... the four long benches, packed with students, all focused on them. Tilly bit her lip - which table would she be sitting in, at the end of the Sorting? Why did her name have to be Rowanwood? She would be waiting all night to find out!

And, her stomach reminded her with a low, rumbling growl; she was hungry. Come on with the feast, already! she thought impatiently. Seeking a distraction, she turned to the students nearest her, hissing so as to avoid the odd Professor who had led them in hearing her,

"So, where do you all want to be sorted? I'm thinking Gryffindor, myself! I have the lions' mane," she giggled, gesturing the thick, wild ginger curls that erupted from her head and spilled over her shoulders. "Though I wouldn't mind Hufflepuff - they seem like a friendly bunch. I just can't wait to get started! I can't believe we don't get to study Care of Magical Creatures till third year, it's so unfair!"

[HaelKatrin]

In the back of the group of nervous children, sat one Katrin Edlund. She didn't fidget. She didn't move. She didn't talk to any of the students. She simply sat in her spot, waiting. Observing everything around her. A trait some would have, by now, noticed as usual. She was dressed in the new Hogwarts Robes Professor Grimm had taken her to get. Her feet, however, were different from the rest of the black clothing. They wore no shoes. No, she absolutely refused. Instead, she wore socks. Big, fluffy, pink socks. The kind most people would wear as slippers.

Her wheelchair was also a strange sight. There was speculation, gossip, about this. Some students assumed she simply refused to allow the medics and healers to help her. Others, more cruel, had decided she was faking it. None could guess the real story behind it. None could guess that the doctors at Saint Mungo's for Magical Maladies and Injuries had already tried their best to help her. Nor that they were simply baffled. If it's just from one of those muggle death traps they call cars, They mused while believing they were out of earshot, Then, it should be a simple fix! They wouldn't tell her this though. Oh no, who would want to tell a young girl, one who had just discovered all the amazing things magic could do, that they couldn't help her? That they had absolutely no idea what was causing it? No, they hadn't told her anything. Just that, maybe if she came back after the school year, they'd have a solution.

That had been a hard day for the girl. Professor Grimm, who had taken her in, had tried his best to cheer her up. But to no avail. Still, the hard days, the bad days, were getting fewer and far between. Ever since a Mad Man with a Shoe had appeared on her doorstep. My Doctor. Come to take me away? She laughs at the question she had asked him on that fateful day. And he had done exactly that. Whisked her away. On her birthday no less! They had had a truly magical day. From a spinning pink cake, to a trip to Diagon Alley. She'd even gotten her first want. Bright pink, no less! And then, he had told her the best part, that he would let her stay with him.

September First had come quickly. Met with excitement. They'd packed up their suitcases, and made their way to the train. She'd looked at him as if he were insane, when he said to simply run straight into the pillar. Ya know, i'm usually yelled at for running into things. . . She had commented with amusement. Still, she did it, pushing her way through with ease. The train ride had been long. But she hadn't minded. Soon, they arrived at the castle. Well, nearly.

The boats. The lake. She'd looked incredulous at the professor who had accompanied them. You have got to be kidding me she had retorted. But, she'd only received a grin in reply. Before she knew it, a wand was waived, and her chair floated right into the boat. Totally freaking her out, of course.

The steps, leading in, had been what her biggest worry was the moment she saw the place. But, it seemed the castle had prepared for this. Or, been prepared. She didn't know which. The moment she came up to the first one, something quite strange happened. The first step became longer, and a bit lower to the ground. Easily hopped on to. All it took was a small wheelie. Which, naturally, was met with cheering by the other kids. Then the next did the same, and the next. Before she could comment on it, she was at the top with the others.

Now, she sat waiting. She notices Tilly and her bouncing, but doesn't say anything. Instead, she listens to the strange Hat as it sang a cute little song. She glances at Tilly, hearing the girl speak, hearing the girl ask where she wished to be sorted. "Hufflepuff." She said without hesitation. She didn't know much about any of them, despite Professor Grimm's best efforts to tell her. But, she knew he was in Hufflepuff. And so, that was where she wanted. And, she had every intention of arguing with that stupid stuffed hat to get it.

[Froggy]

Kattalin had known of her magical abilities, and knew that this day would come. She had packed, unpacked, and repacked for weeks before the start of term. She had bought her books and materials the day after she had received the letter. They were second hand books, being what little she could afford, but Kattalin treated them as if they were precious metals.

She spent hours reading them, line by line and chapter by chapter. The symbols were fascinating to her, she had already taken pages and pages of notes. Her supplies were limited to only a few uniforms, her school books, her materials, her owl (whom she had affectionatly named Spearian, after one of her favorite writers in history), and a few other belongings she possessed. It wasn't a lot, but it would do and she had been grateful to go.

She had tried to make friends on the train ride there, but she was soon discovering that she was... different. She was a poor muggleborn who had been raised by a foster family. It was hard for her to branch out, realizing that even though she was going to a place with others like her... she was still a muggleborn and to some, it was as if she didn't belong there. She spent the rest of the ride in silence, curled up on a bench and holding her Charms textbook tightly to her chest, though careful not to harm it.

The carraiges were drawn by beings that she couldn't see, though having spent the past few weeks reading the most recent copy of Hogwarts: A History, she knew that they were pulled by thestrals.

When they arrived, Kattalin felt nervous. All of them stood in front of the great hall and she paid close attention to the sorting hat's song. Then, quite suddenly... her name was called first to be sorted.

The hall went quiet and she was shaky as she made her way up the steps, sat on the stool, and allowed the hat to be placed onto her head.

'Relax, deep breaths, close your eyes,' she thought to herself. She heard the hat speaking to her and nearly jumped.

"I am relaxed, but why are you not?" It asked, to which Kattalin thought about it.

"Because I haven't adjusted to my surroundings yet. It's all so new, and it's been difficult to make friends." She answered truthfully.

"And why has it been difficult to make friends?" It asked.

"Because I'm different. People have treated me differently because I'm Muggleborn, even though I can use magic just like them." She answered honestly.

"How are you different?" The hat asked her curiously. She could see where the sorting hat was leading to this. "Because I allow them to treat me as such. I just have to find my right niche, people whom I can trust and call friends. Until then I have to learn how to adapt," she answered.

"Ravenclaw!" The hat boomed, to which she glanced up and smiled at the hat. She stood and made her way to the Ravenclaw table, already feeling in place now that she belonged somewhere.

[HaelKatrin]

"Katrin Edlund," Professor Bat's voice rang out once more as the clapping died down, and it was Katrin's turn. The students' eyes were on the blonde, a few curious whispers between classmates breaking the silence as they noted her chair. Grimm caught her eye from the staff table, his face beaming with a wide grin and his thumb held up in a silent, 'you got this!' gesture.

She had watched quietly, nervously, as Kattalin had been called. And subsequently sorted. On her lap, sat a small brown black and white puppy. The small dog had actually fallen asleep, curled up into a little ball. Katrin had kept her hand over the animal's back, holding it in place.

Now that had been a difficult conversation. The general consensus among the other Professors was that it was a pet, just like any, and thus not allowed in the Great Hall. But, with a bit of nudging and "look at his cute face!" ing, and even a bit of prodding from Professor Grimm, they had allowed it. After all, the animal was meant to help the girl.

This, had, of course, gotten a few glares. But, she had ignored them. And so, when her name was called, she looked up nervously. And, so did a small brown, white, and black head. She slowly pushes her way up to the steps leading up to the stool. This time, though, they didn't transform for her.

"Go on, K-9. Fetch the hat for me!" She urged with a grin. The little puppy jumped off her lap, tail wagging, and ran up to the stool to do just that. While the puppy did so, Katrin stole a glance up at Professor Grimm, who flashed her a thumbs up and a grin. She returned a smaller one of her own. The dog jumps, trying to reach the stool. The first time, not quite high enough. The second time she was close enough to pull the hat to the edge of the chair. By this point, the whole hall had erupted into laughter. Finally, a third jump, and K-9 managed to pull the hat off the stool.

K-9 grabs the top of the hat gingerly in her teeth and drags it over to Katrin. Katrin grins and pets his head before picking the poor hat up and putting it on her head curiously. "Good girl, K-9!"


"Well, I never... In all my days, I.. unbelievable!"

The moment the material of the ragged old hat touched Katrin's golden hair, she could hear it again; grumbling about the dark stain the dogs' rather damp mouth had left on its' brim; though truth be told, it was hardly the first mark to have been left on it. It wasn't speaking aloud now, though, but rather inside her head.

"Ahh, hello Katrin. Interesting... ooh, I know just where to put you! I can see the time you've spent alone - no one to rely on but yourself. You know, I can put you in the perfect place to become strong; strong enough that you won't need anyone's help!

But maybe you have a preference?" the hat said, after a short pause. If Katrin could have seen it's face, she would have thought it was wearing a sly smile.

Katrin laughs as the hat begins protesting the treatment. K-9 jumps up onto her lap, curling up again. Deciding her nap had been cut short. Katrin laughs again at the hat's complaining about the new stain. But then, grows serious as he begins telling her about the house he would put her in.

She thinks about it. When he asks if she had a preference. "Professor Grimm is in hufflepuff. . . She replied, hesitant. She glances up at him for a second as she says this. It really was the house she wanted. She didn't want to go to a group of students and teachers she didn't know. She'd finally found a friend. . . But. . .

"Strong?" She asks him. "Where no one can keep hurting me?" This said in almost a whisper. She was tired. Tired of all the cruel jokes. Tired of being pushed around. Tired of needing people. Hufflepuff would have been nice. But, this sounded better. So, with a sigh, she nods. "Okay"


"Ah, yes. Hufflepuff - I can see why it might appeal. Friendship, and trust; but who needs those when you have confidence, ambition, power?! You'll do better in...

Slytherin!" the hat boomed, it's voice echoing now to all the occupants of the Great Hall, and the table on the far left began to applaud; though she could see some of its' occupants looking over at her rather skeptically. Professor Bat was holding out a hand in her direction, to take the hat so that she could join her new house. Professor Grimm's smile faltered, but only for a split second - then it was back firmly in place, offering her encouragement.

She hands the hat back to Professor Bat with a smile, then glances up at Professor Grim. It wasn't lost on her, the faltering smile. Even if it returned within moments. She offers one of her own, grinning.

She begins making her way over to the table now cheering for her. Their skepticism also wasn't lost on her. A part of her wondering, for but a moment, if perhaps she had made a mistake. They didn't want her here. This group was for the strong. She was clearly anything but. Still, she shrugs it off. Deciding not to let it get to her.

She finds a spot, in the middle of the table. She looks at the spot for a second, before deciding what to do. The students to either side of it scooted a bit more apart. She wondered if it was out of courtesy, or because they didn't want to be near her. She had no doubt it was the latter.

She sets K-9 on the floor, and pushes her chair up to the bench. Then, lifting one knee, she brings her leg over the bench. She does the same with the other. Her hands firmly placed on her wheels, she pushes herself forward. So that she was half sitting on the chair, half on the bench. She then carefully moves her hands to the bench, and scoots forward the rest of the way.

K-9 takes this opportunity to claim the abandoned chair as her own. Curling up on it. Moments later, the chair seemed to take off on its own, rolling away. It comes to a halt in a corner of the room. Katrin raises an eyebrow at this, but doesn't let it bother her. Instead, turning her attention to the rest of the ceremonies.

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

Astryd Elkridge;;
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A new year. Her sixth year. Astryd was happy to get comfortable between her friends and share the treats they'd gotten from the Honeydukes Express trolley on the train. Pumpkin pasties and several cauldron cakes were in her own robe pockets, but she'd traded a box of Bertie's Every-flavor beans for two chocolate frogs. One of the frogs escaped her grasp and hopped across the Great Hall's stone floors and she made a worried little face as she watched it crawl under the Gryffindor table, darting in between a second year student's jittering feet.

"Hey, I got Harry," she said, showing the collector's card to the beater who sat beside her.

"Oh, I've got five of those," the brunette said, waving at Astryd dismissively. In that moment, the doors to the Great Hall opened and the incoming students streamed through, walking down the isle between the four great tables.

Astryd's elbows pressed against the hard wood of the Hufflepuff table as she watched the first years enter the Great Hall and looked on as the sorting commenced. She crossed her legs at the knee, her robe falling back to show off her high gray socks (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&size=l&tid=41716689) and then she smoothed the hem of her skater-style skirt unconsciously. She clapped as each new student was sorted.

The redhead sat up and leaned forward slightly, elbows dropping off the tabletop as she watched the young girl in the chair be sorted; she puzzled over the dog in her lap and then watched it as it tried to help, considering it as a service animal - it was far too young for that, to be properly trained it took an animal a year for menial tasks. Exceptions were being made. Astryd looked past them to the teacher's table along the far end of the Great Hall and considered the faces there. Grimm stood out to her - not only because of her undying crush on him, but how he interacted with the girl, spying their traded grins and thumbs-up.

"Hmm," she made a little noise in her throat and her friend looked at her curiously.

"You day dreaming about Professor Grimm again?" The beater asked and Astryd promptly sent her elbow to meet the other girl's ribs, which set them both to stifled laughing. The prefect across the table from them narrowed his eyes and cleared his throat pointedly. The girls gigglesnorted, tipping their heads together as they tried to subdue themselves; Astryd bit her lip and straightened up, choking on a chortle.

There were more students to be sorted, she knew and they were being disrespectful, though not so much as to draw attention to them. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and settled again, thoughtfully chewing on her lower lip.

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"Hufflepuff," the blonde girl beside her had replied, when she asked about House preferences. Tilly grinned widely at her. "I hope you get it! Cute dog, by the way!" Before they had a chance for further conversation, the girl was called - Katrin, Tilly thought, watching with a giggle as the puppy ran to help the chair-bound girl with the hat. There was a moments' pause, and Tilly wondered if the hat was speaking to her; it seemed to pause like this with each student, before announcing their house.

"Slytherin!" the hat boomed, and off Katrin went, wheeling her way to her new house's table. Tilly winced; she had heard rumours about Slytherin. But the girl had seemed nice enough, albeit a little shy; she resolved not to judge her on her house.

"Tamilda Rowanwood!" Professor Bat called, and Tilly sprang forward, nearly bowling over the child in front of her in her eagerness to get to the stool. She took the hat from the frizzy-haired Professor on her way past and half-ran to the chair, thrusting it onto her head as she sat. The brim was damp where the dogs' mouth had clung to it, and she grimaced a little, wiping the slobber from her hand onto her robes.

"Come on, hat! You know where to put me..."

"Oh, I certainly do!" The response came, and Tamilda nearly fell from her stool in her excitement. The hat was speaking - inside her head!

Brilliant! she thought, beaming. She must have looked a comical picture, the large hat falling over her eyes to her nose, revealing only her wide, toothy smile to the onlookers, bordered by her wild mane erupting from beneath the hats' brim.

"Oh yes, boisterous, eagerness to develop your power, strong moral compass... I think you'll do very well in Gryffindor!" She heard it's voice echo through the hall, and cheers erupted from the table bedecked with red banners, fists thumping against the wood of the table. Thankyou, thankyou! she thought, wrenching the hat off and jumping from the stool to bound excitedly over to her table. "Hi! Hello! Hi! I'm Tilly!" she babbled, greeting her new housemates as she passed them until she found a clear spot. "Gryffindor, alright! Now, quick, whose next? I want to see this feast!"

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Caelin Grimm's face sported his usual wide grin as he watched the sorting, waving hello to his ward as she was called forward. He had been a little disappointed when she wasn't sorted into his own house; the sweet, shy girl had certainly seemed Hufflepuff material to him!; but the hat knew best. Now, a fiesty looking girl with a wild mess of hair was joining the Gryffindor table, and he clapped along with them. His stomach growled; he loved the sorting, but would have preferred to be tucking into the feast as he watched. Ah, well; it would come soon enough...

"Professor?" A voice sounded behind him, and he turned to see a Harriet Wilson; one of the Hufflepuff Prefects; standing behind him looking rather anxious.

"Yes, Harriet? What is it?" he asked the fifth year, wondering what had her looking so frazzled. The muggleborn was a shy girl, rather dumpy; but usually calm and polite. Right now she looked flustered, and a little annoyed.

"There's... sorry, Professor, but there's a girl still at Hogsmeade Station. A first year, I think; I haven't seen her around before. She's just sitting there, refusing to come up to the castle. When I asked what she was doing, why she wasn't up here, she just sort ofcommanded me to come find someone to bring up her things. She won't carry them herself..." there was scorn in the girls' voice, which was out of character for her. Grimm surmised that the student in question must have been quite rude in her request... or command, as Harriet had put it.

The Professor sighed, standing up. "Alright, I'll go and get her. Thankyou Harriet, you may join the other students."

The girl nodded thanks, and made her way down from the dias to join the Hufflepuff table. Grimm looked longingly at his empty plate, then sidled out of the Hall, strolling along the side of the room to avoid interrupting the sorting.

[P.K.]

Dawn hadn't been very shy about her appearance, despite the scarring on the left side of her face Her hair was brushed and tucked back behind her ears, her eyes sparkled and her new robes fit perfectly. She mingled with the crowed of first years, amusingly thinking to herself that while she was among the gaggle here she was a third year this year. She couldn't help a small chuckle as she listened to some of the excited chatter of the other students. Her eyes couldn't help but take on the old decorated stone walls of the castle, the enormous halls and the very life that the castle seemed to hold. The energy inside was moving and coursing every which way She wanted to follow and explore this wondrous place but she knew she needed to stay with the group, straying off wasn't an option right now.

She cast her eyes into the main hall as they entered through the doors. With her good eye she could make out the room, the floating candles, the magic that permeated the room, the numberless students awaiting to greet them at the four separate benches, long benches. So This was hogwarts, the very school Ilvamorny was fashioned after so many years ago. It was so enchanting, So alike but so different, both in sight and in feeling. She'd read and heard many stories about hogwarts. Their sorting was very different, it involved a hat instead of four statues.

Lost in her own thoughts she had wandered to far over bumping into one of the benches and knocking her knee on the edge. "Oh!" she gasped lightly quickly catching herself on one of the sitting occupants and blushed lightly. "So sorry." She whispered quickly stepping away with a sheepish smile before losing herself back into the crowed of first years and looking up to the front of the room. Another table held the teachers and a small stool with a hat on it.

Wonderful! it was the sorting hat. Gazing at it she couldn't help but think that at her sorting at Ilvamorny. She had stepped into the center of the four statues, nervous and yet excited. Waiting breathlessly to see which houses would want her. How would it work here? Would the hat tell her which houses she would be best suited for? and then let her chose? She watched as other children went up before her, but she couldn't fathom what was going on inwardly. From what she did know of the four houses here they were very similar to the four back at home. Horned Serpents who favored scholars, Wampus who favored warriors, Thunderbirds who favored adventurers and Pukwudgie who favored healers. Out of the two that had reacted for her... she'd ultimately gone with Thunderbird and while she had never regretted it she was eternity grateful for the Pukwudgi's acceptance of her.

Where would she be sorted? She couldn't keep herself from holding her breath each time a name was called, knowing that the time her name was called most likely grew closer.

[Death of Korzan]

Weeks Before...

It was dark in the Mordushku household (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7NPkrq_Rg0), as it always was. The ebony wood of the floors along with the dark-blue colour of the walls held a sombre tone across the entire building, wrapping the state of emotion within the confines of the house in an almost authoritarian regularity. Caryxander stood within one of the larger rooms in the house, flanked on one side by his father, Angron - who looked the spitting image of his son if the scars upon his face were ignored - and opposed by his distant relatives: his Uncle Erion Mordushku and his Second Year Durmstrang student son Kreshnik, who was both taller and wider than Cary, shoulders broadening out with his age. Behind both of the groups sat a line of chairs, where members of the Mordushku family watched silently, intrigued already.

Between the two pairs of father and son sat a large table-like object that stretched from one side of the room to the other, connecting with the walls. It's bulk was completely solid, and the wood that made up its ceiling-facing top had been covered in fine black and purple cloth. Each opposing section had a small pair of hand-crafted steps that led to the raised part of the room, so that both of the boys would be able to easily climb it - though they weren't too small to hoist themselves up without the steps. Each side of the duelling platform led towards the centre of the room before quickly branching out to create a large circular surface for the two boys, a design that meant they could be as flexible with their movements as they wanted to, in case they desired to move around far more as they duelled - a physicality of spell-combat that the Mordushku's personally prided themselves on.

"Cary." Angron leaned his head downwards to whisper in his sons ear, watching as Kreshnik marched up the steps with no delay, eyes looking with Carys before turning and laughing to his father, who smiled and nodded his head respectfully, his eyes betraying his inner thoughts on his Cousin's boy. Kreshnik was the Prodigy of the House Mordushku, the claimed best Wizard of his generation - the thought made Cary's blood boil, as it was a title he wanted. Kreshnik was powerful in Cary's view, there was no doubt about the prestige of his spell-casting ability, or his supreme education at Durmstrang. But Cary was stronger, he just had to prove it to everyone. "It's time." Angron finished, reaching away from Cary coldly before looking across the duelling platform towards Erion - there was no smiling now as the two boys moved into position.

Cary's feet ran themselves across the well-made, short staircase that led up to the platform. Reaching the summit of the small climb, Caryxander turned to face Kreshnik - who was ready at the circular centre of the platform with a confident smile on his face. "Come." He mumbled, Albanian accent thick within his voice. "Let us have this done with." Cary stepped forwards, feet echoing against the hard ebony wood that lay underneath the black and purple cloth. Reaching the circular centre of the platform, Cary walked around its edge until his back faced his father, getting a gauge for how much room he would have during the duel. Kreshnik followed his footsteps, smile widening as Cary made the move. "I was wondering if you were smart enough to check your surroundings."

"Oh, I'm smart enough to do much more than that." Cary said, no smile gracing his face.

"We will see." Kreshnik replied ominously.

Stepping forwards, the two boys drew their wands and shifted into their duelling position, wands out straight in front of them, hands raised about their hands and pointing towards the opposition. It was a basic duelling stance that had been taught for centuries - Cary knew others, but this was his preferred method of attack, making for quick and easy flourishes his his wand whilst keeping his arms and slightly-bent legs ready to shift. Kreshnik's smile still graced his angular face, shifting his average looks into a picture of ridicule - he felt that he would beat Cary, and no power in the world could change his mind on this.

Angron stepped forwards and turned towards the spectating Mordushku family - which included Cary's mother Elizabeire - before beginning to speak. "The two combatants here, Caryxander Mordushku and Kreshnik Mordushku, have both openly stated their desire for the title of the Prodigy of our great and noble house." The assembled Mordushku family murmured and nodded amongst themselves, showing that they acknowledged the boys challenges to each-other, affirming the legitimacy of their duel. They had also decided who was going to win in their minds - there was no doubt about it, the Second Year boy would wipe the floor with Angron's boy. "Very well." Angron turned to face the two boys, raising his arms. "Let the duel commence." As he finished speaking, his arms lowered, signifying the beginning of the duel.

Almost instantly, Kreshnik leaped forwards and thrusted his wand forwards, venom entering his smile as Cary kept calm and maintained his stance. "Locomotor Mortis!" He cried out, wand aimed towards Cary's legs. Shifting himself quickly from his spot, Cary dove to the side and recovered with a roll, watching as Angron dispelled the wayward spell as it shifted over his head.

"Everte Statum!" Cary yelled in response, regaining his stance and flicking his wand left before jabbing it much like a foil. The blood-wood wand lit up for a moment before the spell pulsed from its tip, hitting Kreshnik in the side and throwing him backwards the way Cary had walked. Landing with a thud against the wood, Kreshnik forced himself up - smile missing - and rolled his shoulder. "You're better than I assumed!" He yelled, finally acknowledging Cary after his usage of a spell Kreshnik had only recently been taught by his father. Erion himself was now interested; Angron's boy hadn't even started at Hogwarts or Durmstrang, yet to throw spells from Second Year against his son - this was to be more interesting than he had initially thought.

Angron merely smiled.

"Rictusempra!" Kreshnik roared, throwing his wand left, right and then forwards. Cary shifting his pointing hand backwards before swinging it horizontally.

Darting out of the way once more, Cary span around, pointing his wand once more towards Kreshnik as the spell arced way off of its mark. "Tarantallegra!" Cary cried out, watching as Kreshnik shifted his position as well to avoid the spell, rolling forwards and back upon the circle.

The fight continued like this for another good fifteen minutes, one of the boys firing a spell and hitting very rarely, whilst the opposing boy shifted his body and moved around the circular centre of the duelling platform. Such as the way of duelling in the Mordushku family - the mobility of the body was something taught early, in the tender years before the children could grasp the casting of Protego or other protective spells. Cary and Kreshnik were relatively well matched, which spoke highly of Caryxander's ability, as Kreshnik had already bested all other Mordushku children so far, Angron convincing Erion to save Cary for last - as he stated it would be the 'most interesting confrontation', though Erion had laughed at such a thought.

"Petrificus To-" Kreshnik began to yell, before being interrupted by Cary, who flicked his wind elegantly to both sides as he spoke.

"Expelliarmus!" The spell echoed from his wand, smacking lightly into Kreshnik's hand and forcing his wand from his fingers with some force, the Albanian boy being forced to watch as his wand rolled forwards. Looking from the floor and then up at the younger Mordushku, Kreshnik rolled forwards.

Cary smiled.

Watching as the older boy rolled, Cary shifted his hand backwards and then forced his wand forwards, flicking violently to the left and to the right as the boy stood. "Cruris Expungo!" Cary yelled with the first flick, watching as Kreshnik's legs lost their bones and quickly sagged, twisting uncomfortably as he fell as quickly as he rose. "Ranunculus Erecto!" He finished the spell before Kreshnik hit the deck, watching as the young boy quivered upon the ground with clear discomfort.

There was a moment of silence before the noises of Kreshnik's retching and vomiting filled the air. Many of the Mordushku's turned to each other, shocked in the quick dispatching of Kreshnik, voices quiet compared to the loud vomiting of the Durmstrang student. Angron watched with pride as the Albanian Second Year launched fat fist-sized globules of tadpoles from his mouth, some of them sneaking through his nose and landing upon the cloth with a sickening splat. Cary put his wand away, turning to Erion - whose face had turned to a snarl - and bowed, before turning to his father and the clapping Mordushku crowd and doing the same.

Walking in the direction Kreshnik came from, Cary stepped off of the stage and walked over to his father, smiling wryly as he sidled up next to him once more. "Very impressive." Angron spoke as he watched Erion rush up the stage to cast a counter spell to the tadpole vomiting curse Cary had casted.

"You knew I could handle him." Cary muttered, glad for his father's approval but more concentrated on his victory and the sign of his growing power.

"I didn't." Angron looked down at his son, his eyes gleaming with straight-edged seriousness. "Kreshnik was a good Wizard. I knew you were good, but I was worried in case I threw you into this too early."

"Well I guess you have your answer now." Cary replied, watching as Kreshnik sat up and was harshly slapped by his father, the Albanian man muttering about how the boy had 'embarrassed him to the fullest of his ability'.

Turning to the small crowd, Angron rose his hands and shouted aloud. "The duel is done! A combatant has fallen and in his place rises the new Prodigy of the House!

Caryxander Mordushku!"



- - - - - - - - - -


The Great Hall was sparkling under a thousand floating candles, each drifting in a whimsical circle where it hovered. The sky above was a dark, deep blue, the stars twinkling in the distance like reflections of the flames below. Towering banners lining the walls left and right of the entrance were boldly marked with the colours of the schools four houses; the bold scarlet and gold of Gryffindor, stamped with a roaring lion; Hufflepuff's warm yellow, bordered with black, the loyal badger as its totem. Ravenclaw's blue and bronze, adorned with a soaring eagle, and Slytherin. A coiled snake, on a border of green and striking silver.

Caryxander had not spoken much of anything to anyone on the train ride from platform 9 and 3/4's, having left his family behind at the station. However, his ears had been verbally abused by none other than Percival Eggingsbaum, who had quickly decided to befriend Cary, deciding that the quiet Mordushku required to know everything about Percys life and the lives of his barely Pure-Blood family. Cary supposed that it was somewhat refreshing, as his family was rather reserved and preferred to keep their intimacies behind closed doors, yet Percy outed everything about himself and his family quicker than Cary could have asked: has an American; he had moved to England relatively early, yet not early enough to lose his accent; his parents were both graduates of Ilvermorny, etc etc. The list went on of things Percy had told Cary, and whilst Cary had not wanted to share anything about himself, he did so out of politeness - after all, by the laws of Pure-Blood status, Percy was indeed one of his own - that alone commanded some respect and politeness in their interaction.

However, after they had described a lot of their outside lives to each other - Percy stating how he'd only recently fully gained a grasp on any sort of magic and was hoping that he could properly learn some spells and Cary stating that he had been learning magic for two years prior, yet wanted to learn more - Percy had almost refused to release Cary, pleased his newfound friend despite the clear polarity between their personalities. The Ugly boy had followed the Mordushku Prodigy all the way to the castle, yammering on about how 'they were going to be in the same house' and how 'my parents were in Pukwudgie so hopefully we will be in Hufflepuff' - as he had heard of their similarities from his parents, another fact Cary was 'pleased' to hear. Cary however did not want to be in Hufflepuff - he desired the green of Slytherin, where his family had resided ever since their first number journeyed to the Wizarding Institution. He kept silent on this however, as he listened to the other children surrounding him as they spoke in hushed excitement, covered by the mystically beautiful roof of the great hall.

"So, where do you all want to be sorted? I'm thinking Gryffindor, myself! I have the lions' mane," A girl ahead of Cary and Percy giggled, gesturing to her thick, wild ginger curls that erupted from her head and spilled over her shoulders. "Though I wouldn't mind Hufflepuff - they seem like a friendly bunch. I just can't wait to get started! I can't believe we don't get to study Care of Magical Creatures till third year, it's so unfair!"

"Charming." Caryxander spoke, voice clearly laced with thick, intentionally forced irony as he looked upon the girl. Percy meanwhile found himself sharing such excitement, turning to Cary and grinning as Hufflepuff was mentioned. Sniffing through his blocked nasal - as he had done for much of the journey, much to Cary's annoyance - and pushing his glasses upon the bridge of his nose, Percy looked back at the Ginger haired girl and grinned once more.

"She seems nice!" He whispered to Cary. "And if she gets sorted into Hufflepuff, I'm sure she'll be great fun!"

"You're deluded Percival." Cary muttered. "She's either a mudblood or she's an idiot - perhaps both." The boy held disdain for the girl's excitable boisterousness, she was nigh-on the anti-thesis of his character, the loudness to his quietness, the excitable nature to Cary's calm, modest demeanour.

Percival had lost attention however, eyes scanning over the crowd to listen to other conversations, attempting to weigh up who might be where. "Hufflepuff." Another girl near to the ginger said without hesitation. Looking over at her, Percival was shocked to see her riding in a muggle contraption, yet found himself smiling again as things became more and more interesting by the second. Cary paid no attention, he was busy taking in the details of the hall and all of the teachers ahead.

When the applause for the Hat's song had died down, Professor Bat stepped forwards and unrolled the parchment she held clutched in one hand, and looked up at the nervous students before them.

"Kattalin Lide D'Hearna," she proclaimed in a loud voice with a sweeping gesture toward the stool and the hat, beckoning the first of the students' to be sorted forwards. The hall went quiet and she was shaky as she made her way up the steps, sat on the stool, and allowed the hat to be placed onto her head. Cary watched as the girl sat down, the ragged hat being dropped upon her small head. There was a pervading silence that filled the hall as the Hat spoke with Kattalin, before it cried out.

"Ravenclaw!" The hat boomed outwards and the related table clapped thunderously, cheering as the smiling girl stood and rushed over to the tables, quickly finding a spot upon the table. Cary held his arms still, lightly clapping with his hands but not sharing the same vigorous action of the first years surrounding him.

"Katrin Edlund," Professor Bat's voice rang out once more as the clapping died down and a moment of pause came across the crowd. Slowly but surely, a young girl wheeled herself forwards in her wheelchair, forcing Cary to curl his lips in disdain at the clear mudblood.

"That's disgraceful, letting someone into such an establishment with that." Cary muttered, quietly, remarking on the wheelchair. His uttering was only heard by Percy, who turned to the Mordushku boy and shrugged.

"I dunno, I think it's kinda cool." He sniffed hard once again.

"You would." Cary responded coldly, shaking his head in disagreement as Percy smiled cheerfully.

Watching as the girl muttered into her lap, a small dog leaped from her seated form and ran to the sorting hat, grasping it with its jaws before returning to the girl, both bringing quiet laughter and disapproval from some areas of the tables. There was another short moment of silence whilst the Hat communicated with the muggleborn 'Katrin', before it finally made a verdict.

"Slytherin!" the hat boomed, it's voice echoing now to all the occupants of the Great Hall, and the table on the far left began to applaud; though she could see some of its' occupants looking over at her rather skeptically. Cary joined them, shaking his hand and keeping his hands at his side as he saw the girl wheel herself over the table that he desired - there was enough students in Slytherin that he wouldn't have to interact with the girl, but it was likely that he would run into her at some point - a moment he would rather not endure.

Almost as quickly as the clapping and cheering had ended, the professor stepped forwards once more. "Tamilda Rowanwood!" Professor Bat called, and Tilly sprang forward, nearly bowling over the child in front of her in her eagerness to get to the stool. She planted the hat briskly upon her head and silence took the hall once more.

It lasted for a very, very short amount of time, the decision being made within moments. "Gryffindor!" Cary listened as the hat's voice roared through the hall joined by the cheers that had erupted from the table bedecked with red banners, fists thumping against the wood of the table. Percy cheered as well, his excitement getting the better of him.

"I wonder when I'm going to be cal-" Percy started, interrupted by Professor Bat's voice calling out into the crowd of First Years.

"Percival Eggingsbaum!" she called, pupils flickering between the students as she waited for him to step forward. The clapping died down, a hush falling over the room once more. Percival's mouth remained agape for a moment, watching as Cary smiled and gestured for him to go ahead. Surprise turning into happiness, Percy darted forwards, politely pushing through the other children ahead of him before taking a seat the chair ahead. Taking his left hand, he once more adjusted his glasses and take another much-needed sniff before the hat was placed upon his head.

"Hello Mr Sorting Hat."

"Oh! Mr Sorting Hat aye?" The Sorting Hat spoke within Percy's mind with an air of amusement. "How very charming...I think I already know where I should put you..."

"Wherever you want Mr Sorting Hat - provided my friend Cary comes along with me." Percy muttered.

"Ah yes...making friends, being polite, clapping and cheering and a sense of deep honestly..." The Sorting Hug hmmm'd for a moment, before bellowing outwards. "Hufflepuff!" Standing up from the chair, Percival pressed his glasses back upon his nose and turned to the Hufflepuff house, watching as they clapped and cheered for him. Rushing down the steps towards the table, he thrust himself upon the chairs and smiled at those next to him holding out a clammy hand to say hello, not before making sure there was enough space for Cary to sit down next to him.

After introductions had been briefly made with the other students surrounding him, Percy looked back at the First Years, finding Cary within the crowd. With abated breath he watched as the Professor Bat stepped forwards once more, waiting for the next student to be sorted, and to find the fate of his newfound friend.

[P.K.]

Fira

Fira was sitting at the far end of the table, It was almost impossible to be by one's self at one of these tables but some people sure tried. Anyone who knew her from last year knew she was trouble. And it came as no surprise that some where shocked at her return after vanishing for the last half of the year, last year. Fira watched the sorting with glazed eyes, she was hearing what was going on but she was zoning out most of it. It was pretty much all the same as last year, kids just getting sorted into one of the four houses, there would be first years here and first years there. The other students would probably fill them in about her and she'd just remain on the outskirts.

Dawn

The crowd of first years was dwindling as each one was sorted into their house. Only a few remained now, and Dawn was standing out more and more amongst the shorter, younger students.

"Dawn Scamander," Professor Bat called her name, and a few curious whispers started as attention was drawn to the brunette.

Dawn gave a slight start as her name was called, it seemed far to soon! but time was just flying by it seemed. She'd watched the red head get sorted into Gryffindor earlier, what a comical sight she had been, so much excitement and energy! Dawn carefully picked her way through the remaining students . And the boy after that into Hufflepuff, he looked like a kind hearted fellow.

At the front of the group now she felt that same heavy feeling that she'd felt before, a second sorting, she wondered briefly how many students got this chance, to feel this nervous, anticipating feeling for something like this twice! She let out a small breath before she moved forward and approached to take the hat and sit down with it upon her head. "Hello." She breathed with a smile. She didn't mind the eyes on her face as her's were looking above to the hat.

"Hello to you, too. Hmmm, you're a little older than the usual lot. Ahh, a transfer." The hat spoke inside her mind, picking out pieces of information before she'd even thought them. "From Ilvermorny, I see. Now, where to put you... you're a considerate child, I can see that; though a little shy. Gryffindor could certainly help boost your confidence. Hard-working, too; and dilligent. Ravenclaw would help you nurture that intellect. But no... I know where you belong. Hufflepuff!" the hat shrieked, and an eruption of cheers rose from the yellow-bannered table.

Dawn held her breath as the hat spoke into her mind. It was so very different! at Ilvamorny the statues reacted, each differently! But the hat spoke directly into her mind and seemed to know so much about her already! He considered three of the four houses for her in only moments but inwardly it almost felt like forever. Gryffindor? Ravenclaw? Hufflepuff!! Slytherin was not mentioned once but that didn't bother dawn as she breathed out another smile and a thank you to the hat before carefully taking it from her head. Three houses had been considered but one chosen, she was immensely grateful!

Respectfully returning the hat the made her way down to her new housemates greeting them quietly as she found a place among them. There was no way to ease people into her appearance so she simply kept smiling as they welcomed in into their group.

[Minkasha]

“Alohomora” A flustered whisper came from youthful lips. Damara’s searching journey tapered to a noisy end; she need only to follow the loud gathering of people to understand where she was to be. Her initial steps into Hogwarts were moistened by her bristling encounter with a dirty blood. A slime, a mucus of expectation and ignorance on his part slathered her pores metaphorically.

Through the red clarity of carbon diamond, coquelicot flashed alien magic. Emerging out from the tip of the pointed angles Martian influenced magic invisibly maneuvered the old entrance. Dramatic eyes of Damara watched as impatient witness the great hall doors several fold her height open and her panoramic view of everything inside expanded greatly. Candles dancing in a false sky, an amalgamation of young people and hopefully less agitating professors sitting at tables far across the length of aisle separating her and them. A group of people stood in front of it: the sorting ritual Damara concluded quickly.

The noises, the chewing, nearly all stopped for the welcoming wood doors to the great hall slammed against their historical walls. Damara’s anger dimmed in the face of her enabling magic. It took her rage and transformed a simple opening spell into a blast of announcement: a Liakos was present. A bang perked up the environment inside the great hall, reverberating off the masonry walls briefly until sound and slammed doors eased to stillness quickly.

The Grecian girl gave little attention to the eyes that had fallen on the tardy and wordlessly boisterous approach she had. Most of them must be of the lower blood and the nugatory wouldn’t shake her from her destiny.

Damara brushed a hand at her black coat, sheathing The Vouves Crystal Wand inside. Sauntering down center, Damara locked her gaze over the other new boys and girls unsorted. There was no definite opinion she held as to which house she’d fall bar one exception: she would never accept placement into Hufflepuff.

Cary had turned around as the Great Hall’s doors opened - their massive wooden form shifting audibly across the room - much like the remainder of the to-be-sorted First Years who stood around him did so, and had placed his eyes upon the young girl who stood at its entrance way. Squinting his eyes, Cary found his mind running with his own thoughts, his eyes - for the first time since Percy had been sorted - having drifted off of the Sorting hat, and subsequently off of his destiny. He knew the house almost as soon as he saw her, the way that she moved; her typical Grecian features - all signs pointed to House Liakos. ‘The Wizards of Mars’ Cary had heard his mother Elizabeire stating, scoffing all the while as she read through The Daily Prophet, in which the achievements of the Greek family in joining the petty Muggle ‘Conquest of the Stars’ had been exclaimed to the wider Wizarding Community.

Angron had also spent time filling Cary in on the Pureblood Wizarding Houses of Europe - as he did not hold those of the far West and East in much regard, though his perchant for the Houses of Africa was based upon a great respect for their powerful spellcasting. He had gone over them all; the Malfoys; the Weasleys; the Potters (Though Angron made a note of their watering down through their most famous member’s Squib mother); until finally, as Angron went from Britain to the East, country by country, he landed his long, pale index finger upon Greece. “This is the land of the Liakos family.” He muttered, voice largely mutual - whereas he had spoke with some contempt for the Weasleys - as he began to describe their house to Cary. “Older than our house - tracing all the way back to Ancient Muggle Athens - but surprisingly they have constructed little of note to the Wizarding community.”

The man had went to move his finger onwards, to describe the Russian Wizarding houses, but Cary stopped him. “But what about what Mother said the other day, about Mars and the Muggle Space project.”

“Ah yes.” Angron replied. “An experiment to branch the Wizarding World’s roots outwards, based on multiple years away from magic - sounds like an abhorrent existence, spending all of your time surrounded by those ‘creatures’.” Angron’s lips curled as he finished his utterance, his physical disdain for the muggles showing through his relatively calm and composed exterior. “Either way, an experiment is not an achievement unless it comes to fruition; an experiment in progress is called a test, and a failed experiment is a failure, whether it has never been tried before or not - remember this for your future achievements.” These were the last words that Angron had muttered before he shifted his finger towards Russia, dragging Cary’s attention with it as he described the Korchalvad family of St Petersburg, washing Cary’s curiosity of the Liakos family away.

However, now his curiosity was peaked. Damara’s soft tea tinted eyes couldn’t hold a degree of colored potency to the emerald fires staring right at her. Coming closer to the unsorted students, the tanned girl could only feel him staring more and more - like the flash of dark magic threatening to come but never would. The Grecian looked into them and met them as equal, but her eyes drifted to his lips. Dare she think they were attractive and mysterious. Dark and eerily sickly she knew very quickly where he came from.

House Mordushku. Her knowledge of them was moderate for they were a house of striving achievements and noise makers through the passing of time. In need to always prove something is how her parents introduced the Albanian house. Perked up by figures such as Lord Dragomir and in recent the current male head of the house carried reputation. Their blood was touched with a certain magic: Veela. The beauty of Nymphs and the danger of a Gorgon, they did not exist in Greece but they were not unheard of. Damara found herself staring at the Mordushku head son longer than she ought to. His strange charms made her lips press together. Irritation was being manipulated by another emotion, one that made her feel...girly. Keeping her neck elegantly straightened and narrowing her view straight ahead, Damara didn’t crane her vision to meet up to the tall eleven-year-old. However, her steps did stop beside him amid the crowd. Only someone birthed from his pureblood house would be proper immediate company after all.

When she looked passed the various heads, most of which she could peer a little over in part because of her year of age over the young crowd, she could see the sorting hat. Audibly she gasped and put a hand up in offense.

“It’s disgusting…” she whispered about the ragged and tattered cap. It was offensive to her eyes how prestigious it was held in its elevated position before them.

Cary smirked as the girl muttered about the Sorting Hat. She was correct, the bundle of slight-dusty cloth did look disgusting, and Cary had held some refrain and cause for alarm at the fact that it was going to be placed upon his head, yet at the same time he knew the traditions of the school - it was the only way that he was going to be sorted. Resting his searing-Green eyes forwards toward the filthy Sorting Hat, the boy held his smirk as he slightly raised his left hand and pointed inconspicuously towards Katrin’s wheelchair, which had been propped up against the wall after the muggle-born girl had transferred herself from it to the table. “If you look to the Slytherin table, I assure you that you’ll find something far more hideous.” Introductions had been given by eyecontact, an insecure part of Damara questioned if he knew exactly who she was, but did not divulge it outwardly. She did, however, steal a glance and her young feminine voice giggled. Girlish charms acted out with her shaking rose quartz earrings, a hand to guise her mocking expression of the cripple device.

”The fact that they would even let such muggle contraptions into this school is beyond me.” Cary’s smirk turned into a grin as the girl laughed, finally finding himself in relatively good company. Percy had been nice - and had been a pureblood - but he had spoken far too much about a multitude of things that Cary had given little to no stock for the Mordushku boy’s liking. Without turning his head from the Sorting Hat, Cary pursed his lips slightly to wet them, before beginning to crack his individual fingers one by one. “Which - in discussing those coming to the school - leads me to ask: what’s a Liakos doing at Hogwarts? I was under the impression that you were benefactors of Beauxbatons.” Damara’s giggling cut curtly at the further exchange from the Mordushku.

“Have whatever impression you want” Damara retorted into their whisper-toned conversation. “I’m here, you shouldn't have so many questions to ask a Liakos; Mordushku” Her petite lips smirked as something witty came to her mind, changing the subject “Maybe we should put the Sorting Hat atop the muggle contraption and wheel it around for its convenience. That way we won’t have to touch it”

Cary smiled at her response, finding humour in her curtness. “Perhaps we should strap it into the device and wheel it towards the Whamping Willows and be done with the tattered thing for good.” The young boy muttered, struggling to stifle a laugh as one of the other muggle-born Wizards was sorted in Ravenclaw. As the claps from the Ravenclaw table rose in volume, so did Cary’s voice, being now able to shout instead of whisper. “I’d be all for sending the muggle contraption into the Willows alone..” Cary mused, pretending to swish his finger like a wand and silently mimicking the ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ charm, noting the clapping as it slowly died down. “Let the trees tear the blasted thing apart.” In the raised volume’s last bout Damara still laughed out loud, a hand to her chest while the boy activated such hilarious imagery in her mind. Tactfully she was able to quiet herself as the room lost the booming cheering. How this Mordushku spoke made her quickly think of him positively. In a small way she hoped she’d be sorted into the house he would be - if she recalled, that would be Slythern. Damara didn’t fear the serpent, let it entrap her if that was her fate. Her focus did not lie on the color pin she wore, but the footsteps she left behind her through the years here at Hogwarts.

“Better yet, transmogrify the hat into the wheeled contraption. If we sit on it, it wouldn’t ruin our hair” Damara’s feminine giggles began again, unable to help herself.

“Hey, better her than me having to wear the bloody thing.” Cary muttered, his grin shifting back into his prior smile, no bigger than a slightly noticable curl at the corner of his lips. “My names Cary; it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The mood settled between them and she brushed at her coat, over the layer where the hem of her skirt would be. Nervousness fluttered in her stomach.

“Damara Liakos” He wouldn’t know Damara. No one knew who Damara was.

”Well, aren’t I the lucky one.” Cary smiled. “My father said your relative, Diadoros might come here, what with him leaving Beauxbatons.” The young boy watched as another one of the first years shifted forwards, planting themselves upon the wooden chair that sat ahead of the group. “But what’s a first born in the grand scheme of things.” Cary muttered. “I’m one of the youngest children of my House, but I’m still the best”

The clapping began as the other first year was sorted into Hufflepuff. Turning and looking towards the table - once more removing his eyes from the hat, now that the good conversation had taken his solace-born concentration from him - Cary watched as Percy grinned and spoke to the newly sorted girl, his kind, warm words being hidden by the loud clapping of the crowd. Turning his eyes across the hat and towards Damara, he watched as her mouth remained close and her body remained still, her only movement being that of her throat and she swallowed heavily. “What I mean to say is,” Cary muttered, attempting to pull the girl out of the offense he figured he had so offhandedly caused. “Just because the rest of the Wizarding World doesn’t know of you like they know of Diadoros, Damara Liakos,” Cary smiled as he said her whole name, jesting with her by labelling her exactly as she had named herself to him. “Doesn’t mean that he is any better than you are just because he was born first - everything is merit within blood.”

Damara’s vision had blurred to a collision of heads, figures, and obscure furniture shapes while the heartbeat in her body had risen dramatically. The notion of Diodoros disgusted her, and he still followed her. All the pain she crossed in the summer, the shattering and reformation of bones, sinew and organs.All that she became and still Diodorors could be spoken. It unnerved her. Let him be buried, he must be buried, and guided into the underworld without coin - let the soul of that broken fool wander amiss forever.

“Diodoros is weak and a failure. He doesn’t need to be talked about anymore. There is good reason why he is gone and won’t be attending any school in the future” She scolded Cary ominously, dragging the back of one of her small hands across her newly formed, more delicate, jawline. She more subtly hinted of Liakos’ greatest means of maintaining purity within the family: exile and erasing. “He is gone and that conversation is done.” She set down firmly, keeping coy still to the more intricate details of her family’s particular drama - herself. In community of purebloods, purity was more than who mother and father were, purity was also the very merit Cary spoke of. It was important for all of the pureblood to have merit within the blood, or that can be a taint and burden as well. Speaking shortly of her old self brought shivers through her body but she kept cordial and exhaled slowly. “I wish you the best for which house you are sorted. If you fall into Hufflepuff I will laugh” she said to Cary openly in friendly tease.

”For shame!” Cary whispered excitedly, humoured by the comment of a Hufflepuff sorting whilst letting the comments of Diadoros wash over him. Whilst Cary did not necessarily agree with the harshness of Damara’s comments towards her relative, he found them refreshing - despite Diadoros’ much talked (and theorized) about struggle, it was clear that the scandal had not gone unnoticed by the higher powers of the Liakos family - and Cary found slight clarity within them. ‘Perhaps family name is most important.’ The Young Boy found himself thinking. ‘Perhaps if I were a Liakos, Kreshnik would have been shamed and his prestige diminished to nought.’ Cary thought, knowing full well that Kreshnik would still be respected within the Mordushku family, though nowhere near Cary’s level. “My father thinks their mudblood Professor is a fool.” Cary remarked, noting that he was not here. “Though to be honest, he doesn’t think much of the rest of Hufflepuff.” Cary huffed with amusement - not a complete laugh, and silent enough to be only audible to Damara.

Damara became quiet and reserved, listening more to the wrapping and rhythmic words of the trashy hat. Slowly it was eliminating people from the line up one by one. Eventually they would be picked and the next seven years of her life would be forever defined.

[Death of Korzan]

"Caryxander Mordushku."

Finally, the boys name was called; the last of the dwindling group in the centre of the main hall but for the new arrival he had so quickly befriended. A few whispers from the Slytherin table informed him that some, at least, knew his family name. The hat sat waiting on the stool.

Cary looked towards the hat with a determined glint in his eye and smiled, excited at the destiny that awaited him and now not caring about the disgraceful state of the headpiece - as he had so jokingly discussed with Damara, who stood next to him still. Taking long strides forwards past the remainder of the to-be-sorted children, he locked eyes with Professor Bat for a few moments before turning his vision back upon the sorting hat as it sat waiting for him to claim it. Turning around and slowly - but surely - taking a seat upon the old wooden chair that sat ahead of the first years, Cary awaited as the Hat was slowly placed upon his head. "A Mordushku, eh?" the hat spoke instantly, calling him by name. "I was wondering when I'd get one of your lot - Durmstrang can't have all the power, now, can they? I know just where to put you - not that you'd accept anything else. Slytherin!"

The call was almost instantaneous to those not privy to the hats' inner thoughts; barely a second had passed since it was placed on his head. Cary grinned as the Hat knew exactly where he wanted to go, as though it were meant to be. Locking eyes with Damara down within the bundle of First Years who were also waiting, the newly Sorted Slytherin boy winked as the cheers and clapping from the Slytherin table reached their peak.

The hat was slowly lifted off of his head, leaving his brown, cropped hair slightly messy on the top - though thankfully none of the aforementioned dust had come off onto his locks. As the headpiece left him, Cary shot up and took a handful of excited, rushing steps over to the table, shaking hands with some and speaking to others. Slytherin was a house of prestige, and he was proud to have made its ranks - though he always knew it was where he was meant to be.

"Hey, my names Michael Odemayo!" One boy excitedly reached his hand forwards, to which Cary grasped it and smiled, recognising the status of his Pureblood family and countering his dark brown African-born skin tone with his own, pale Mordushku skin.

"Cary." The Mordushku boy responded in kind, shaking pleasantly before reaching over to shake another hand.

"Tamara Rosier." The girl introduced herself, to which - once again - Cary pleasantly shaked her hand. The Rosier family were one of the Sacred Twenty Eight, and though the list of families were only those of British descent - which was why the Mordushku family and others, including the Odemayo Family and the Liakos family were not labelled as other members of said list - they commanded great respect among the Pureblood community.

Locking hands with the girl, Cary nodded and grinned once more, repeating his name before drawing himself away to look upwards, across to the Hufflepuff table.

Almost instantaneously, Cary locked eyes with Percy, who stared with sadness in his eyes across the hall. Cary smiled and raised his thumbs to the boy who - whilst he would not be in tears about the whole thing, as the situation was full of excitement, and he was far too busy socialising and telling the Hufflepuff students about all the nonsensical things he had filled Cary in on - was quite visibly upset by Cary's result. Cary didn't care too much, though he had found humour within the American boy, there were plenty of other more interesting people at the Slytherin table.

'Besides,' Cary thought as he darted his eyes away from the Hufflepuff table as another hand was placed ahead of him for him to shake. 'He is a Hufflepuff, and just like my father said, there's nothing much to think about House Hufflepuff.'

As Cary looked to the right of another person who had a firm grip upon his hand - Douglas Carrow, another member of the Twenty Eight - he locked eyes upon Katrin. Looking at her Muggle Wheelchair with a muted disgust that didn't imprint upon his features, Cary lowered his eyes towards the contraption, before returning them to Katrin, the attractive globes burning bright like Floo-powder bale fires.

Turning back to Douglas - who had only just released his hand - and then returning his eyes to the centre of the room, Cary's smile returned as the clapping slowly died down. The other waiting children had been sorted, their applause mixing with the dying Slytherin one to create a 'Mexican Wave' of clapping and cheering across the room, yet now only one person waited to be sorted - Damara Liakos. placing his chin upon his two fists and resting his elbow against the old table of the Grand Hall, Cary watched intently, awaiting her sorting and musing at the chance of Hufflepuff for her.

[HaelKatrin]

Katrin kept a close eye on the rest yet to be sorted. She was quiet, kept to herself. There were whispers, and pointed glances, from those at her table. But, she chose to ignore those for the moment. Pretending as if to not see. But see she did.

She noticed, too, as the late arrival joined the ever shrinking group. And, it was not lost on her, the pointed stares shared with another unsorted boy. Her face burned. Whether anger, or embarrassment, one could not tell. In a moment it was gone. As if it had not been there.

She joins the clapping and cheering as the rest begin to be sorted. None cheered louder than she, when the boy who had laughed was declared Slytherin. She would not say anything. She would let him make the first move.

As Cary looked to the right of another person who had a firm grip upon his hand - Douglas Carrow, another member of the Twenty Eight - he locked eyes upon Katrin. Looking at her Muggle Wheelchair with a muted disgust that didn't imprint upon his features, Cary lowered his eyes towards the contraption, before returning them to Katrin, the attractive globes burning bright like Floo-powder bale fires.

She watched as he began introducing himself to members of the table. Ones she could only assume were Pure. She barely glances at him,knowing she wasn't worth his time. But he surprised her. Even if it were only a glance. Even if it seemed to be filled with mocking. She returns a look of her own. A smirk, and a glance at her chair. As if to say Yes, it is ridiculous. I hate it too. and that was it. She returned her attention back to the sorting. He was not worth any more of her time. Just as she was not worth any of his.

[Minkasha]

"Hufflepuff; Ravenclaw; Hufflepuff; Slytherin!" One by one, Damara's peers were dispersed between their new houses. The last to go was her new aquaintance; Caryxander was obviously easy to place. Then she stood alone with Professor Bat and the parchment the odd Professor clutched. Peering over her glasses at this last child, she spoke.

"Damara Liakos," the frizzy-haired woman called her forwards. It was time.

Damara clenched her hands together, her growing nails pricking at her young palms. The Mordushku boy got into Slythern. Her eyes had followed him as he neared his preferred table, clearly satisfied. Standing alone as the last one, Damara noticed much of the dining hall was staring at her once her name had been announced. The whispers released so close to each other from the dozens of mouths it was a white noise of loud chatter.

However she stepped forward before the Sorting Hat and directly at it with a leer. She wanted it to make it quick.

"Please don't take longer than you need to" Damara requested with a demure offense of the sentient object.

"Oh, but there's so much to look at in here!" the hat retorted with a note of glee in its' voice; tone resounding inside her head, where only Damara could hear. "I can see all the darkest corners of your mind, you know. That's how I know where to put you! Hufflepuff?" There was a teasing note in the hats' question.

"No, no. Of course not. I know just where you belong. Slytherin!" Again, this word was called to the whole room. The hat fell silent, its' job done. For the next year, it would be consigned to it's shelf-space in the Headmistresses office. What it spent this time doing was anyones' guess; although a part of it would certainly be dedicated to another poorly written sorting song. Damara was hit with a layer of emotions. The promise of a new friendship made her excited and sickened her at the same time. No one could find out about her past, and yet the Sorting Hat so carelessly sifted through her mind and found it. The Grecian would have glared at the dirty thing if it weren't so close to the teachers and it not so able to flap its mouth at any moment. Looking to Cary she began to head his way, ignoring the others staring at her across the hall of Hogwarts univocally in part to the reputation of her family surrounding her.

Cary watched as the Sorting Hat made its decision, watching as Damara turned her eyes towards him, a small smile painted upon her face. Smiling himself in return - though far more outwardly - as his interesting, entertaining new acquaintance was placed within the same House as he for the next 7 years, Cary turned to face Douglas, who was sat beside him clapping. "Scoot over." Cary spoke, having to yell over the clapping. Douglas squinted towards Cary as he tried to work out what he said, but after the Mordushku repeated himself once more the Carrow made sense of his words through the height of the noise and shifted himself across, causing a domino effect on the students next to him as they moved as well.

What resulted was a space ample enough for the Liakos girl to sit, placed next to Cary upon the table. Ahead of the space sat Michael Odemayo, and next to him Tamara Rosier, each clapping and smiling as another member of the young Wizarding community joined their ranks. Cary lifted his hands too, beginning to clap with equal fervour as she began to stand, the dusty hat removed from her head and placed back upon its pedestal. Damara came, standing next to the Mordushku and notice so easily that he had made an effort for her to have a seat next to him. She could only think it proper of him to do because of her family title, and so, Damara took the seat and neatly flattened her coat and skirt that lay underneath.

There was an airy and heavy laugh from one of the girls that had already been sitting here at the Slythern table. From how she was dressed, already baring a pin, she must have been an older student. Damara guessed a 2nd year, but staring at her was not what Damara would have called enjoyable. She was fat, pale, with a plethora of visual issues about her. Damara would never guess any family that had pride would let their child look the way she did.

"We have a new popular girl! I'm Peigi" her large lips flapped. She seemed to be staring at Damara with the expected fascination Damara knew she'd get at Hogwarts. For now, the young girl chose to be diplomatic and polite. And so, she smiled with the minimalist energy she could give the expression.

"Last name?" Damara asked softly, and seemingly casually. Peigi couldn't help herself, smiling brighter as Damara probed and sought to learn more about her.

"Mcfee" Ah, not pure. Clearly.

"Mmm." was all Damara returned with and put a hand up to touch an earring and toy with it in graceful passing. Peigi continue, missing the cue of disinterest.

"That is the strangest thing, so weird" She remarked.

"What is?" Another girl from 2nd year asked.

"Look, there's six first year Slytherin girls and four boys. That's never happened. Ever" Damara's eyes widened a bit as she looked to Cary, counting him and the newly sorted and realized the gender imbalance. She glanced at the other tables in the hall and noticed it was exactly five boys and five girls in each new table. "You should have been a boy" Peigi laughed at Damara with a squeal and Damara cleared her throat loudly, staring down at her lap.

"And you should have been a pig, judging by those disgusting features of yours." Cary spoke out of earshot of the Second Year, his eyes glancing forward to watch as Michael's lips curled into a smile, the young Anglo-African boy attempting to stop himself from bursting with laughter. Tamara leaned forwards and slapped at his chest to get him to shut up, though a wry smile plastered itself across her own face, betraying her inner thoughts. Damara stared up at Cary and gave a small smile: she felt defended by her new acquaintance but she also didn't need to insult the lesser blooded. She'd rather let this Peigi girl be and not speak to her rather than anything else.

Peigi still wouldn't get the point. She moved over a few other 2nd years, one being a rather handsome boy of Iraqi and Irish features Damara only noticed because his skin tone was a distant homage to the Greek, and sat down beside Michael. Her fatty chest was leaning in the first year boy's plate of feasting delights, getting a stain of gravy on her chest - but she didn't seem to mind. Peigi was staring directly at Cary and Damara.

"You two would look so interesting together" Peigi quipped with a wink and stared at Cary and his dark lips. "Are you going to do better than Angron? He was a really good duelist, but I think there's a girl here that could beat you" Peigi smiled, her words playful. "She's in Ravenclaw"

Cary looked up at the girl as she spoke, his blistering eyes staring into her fatty face with a neutral contempt to them. He was uninterested; he had heard from his father the legacy that he left at this school 40 years prior - an incredible duelling record, a no nonsense studying quota and a rather uneventful time at the school. Cary was bored of hearing about his father, he was the Prodigy of the House now - Angron was an old man. Cary turned his eyes from the girl and looked towards Michael, whose deep brown eyes were locked onto the back of Peigi's neck.

Raising one of his surprisingly large - for his age - hands, the young boy pressed the width of his thumb and index finger into the back of the girls neck ever so lightly before leaning forwards and muttering. "You're in my food."

"Yeah, you're in his food fatface." Douglas retorted, his voice afflicted by his regular slur, giving the young boy the vision of complete idiocy. Cary smiled, returning his fiery gaze towards the fat mudblood before reaching forwards and dragging a roast potato from one of the many feasting bowls that sat ahead of him onto his plate, dropping its hard exterior upon the china plate with an audible PLINK. Damara was still docile in her behavior, feeling a jutting cut of Peigi's jest find a deep place in her insecurities. Pulling herself emotionally away from what was happening she felt some embarrassment as well from what Peigi said about her and Cary. Damara wasn't in a position to think of herself with any boy - not with what was between her legs and...she didn't have focus in that right now. Simply, there was too much to prove to her parents for anything like that. Boys were not what Hogwarts was for.

Peigi pulled back, Michael's plate of potatoes cratered by the smooth dip of a large, plump, breast imprint of an 'opulent' girl. She did indeed have the biggest chest, for all the wrong reasons.

Another girl, a second year with a growing girl's body, wearing green eyeshadow over blue eyes, and had light brown hair to fall down and frame her well shaped face glared at Michael and put a hand on Peigi's shoulder. A boy arm and arm with this girl casually looked over, his large jagged nose and thick brown brows like caterpillars watched. His eyes were unusually difficult to get a gauge in while he watched with a remarkable amount of neutrality.

"Leave her alone, she's introducing herself. There's enough food on the table" The girl with makeup mentioned to the African wizard in training. Peigi laughed it off, staring at the black boy with a devious smirk only a girl of Slythern could produce. Certainly, she'd remember him.

"It's alright, it is" the full figured girl said, wiping herself off with a near napkin. Not intimidated, Peigi mimicked Cary's motion and grabbed herself food to eat where she was, waiting and wanting to listen in on anything the new students talked about.

"So," Douglas spoke, drawing the conversation from the nosy Second Year and to his dopey features instead. "What classes are you lot looking forward to tomorrow?" He spoke, his crass accent coating every word that came from his mouth. Before he could say anything more, he shoved a stick of broccoli in his mouth, chewing loudly upon the softened vegetable. "Cause I was thinking, if we had to group up then maybe we ought to go together in Charms?"

Cary took a fine slice off of a piece of beef upon his plate before pushing the meat into his mouth, savouring the taste before swallowing. "I'm looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts." Cary responded. "Wouldn't mind flexing my wand hand out a bit, what with the rules on underage magic the Ministry imposes." Cary shook his head, as though disagreeing with the restriction the Ministry placed on the youth before placing another piece of beef into his mouth.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts should be interesting." Tamara spoke, with Michael next to her nodding his head as he chewed on a piece of meat. "Though I'm more excited for potions."

"Transfiguration for me." Michael spoke, mouth still half full of beef. "My uncle can turn himself into a Lion, and once won a duel by turning his opponent into a statue." Damara smiled at the Afro-native boy. Damara adjusted herself in her seat, crossing her legs and scooted forward - bringing herself back. Her stormy green eyes shot a look of dislike at Peigi before going on.

"Greece does not have those restrictions, if the Ministry tried to impose anything in my land it would be seen as an act of war against our magical community." she boasted her veteran magic experience over her peers. But what did that advantage mean if her magic had become as broken as it has since her transition? Damara continued, "But...I would like to practice potions" The beautiful Grecian brightened up her tone of voice to the other purebloods talking with her. The familial proclaimed princess of Greece sat tall with a natural feminine curve at the small of her back - awaiting what positive things they'd say about her.

"Of course my father had me ignore the ministry." Cary quietly muttered as he shoved another delicate mouthful of beef into his mouth. "But it's good that you don't have to worry about such things."

Tamara brightened up as Damara mentioned how she would like to practice potions, the Rosier girl's eyes filled with a cheer that looked odd on her heavy-lidded globes. "Well that's good, I reckon if we group up and leave the boys to fight amongst themselves on who stays with one another, and who has to go with another student?" The girl giggled daintily before spooning a meagre amount of peas into her mouth. "My mother's had me working on my potion skills already; identifying ingredients, working out how to properly use my utensils to full effect..."

"So you's two are the whole hog ahead?" Douglas spoke once more, mouth now full of chicken, causing his voice to be muffled and his mouth to be intolerable to look at. "Lucky for some ain't it." The boy laughed, opened wide his mouth to display its contents to the world. "My dad's just been teaching me how to properly use my wand, let alone teaching me stuff with it - he says I'm too much of an idiot, I think he's just worried I'll be better than him."

"My family don't use wands." Michael spoke - it was normal for students of Uagadou to not use Wands, and it was a great trait of their students and the African Wizarding Community in general. "They didn't know what to tell me when the School asked me to get one, so I'll just be going off of my instincts I guess."

"And how has that gone so far for you?" Cary asked, smiling at Michael and watching as the Anglo-African boy returned the gesture.

"To eleven years old I guess." He laughed, hands reaching out towards the roast potatoes at the centre of the table, intending to pile some up upon his plate. Damara laughed with Michael, ignoring in the back of her mind the growing doubts the more and more her new acquaintances and housemates revealed their pasts and abilities. Michael and his practices were the most exotic to Damara, both her and him very exotic to Hogwarts. It would be him she'd suspect to really stand out. Her ability to actually tell about these things wasn't that great, to her, everyone here was ethnically diverse. No one was Grecian except her. Uncomfortably Peigi had also been laughing exactly when she had, their exchange an awkward mirror as the second year continued to listen and and watch who was talking.

Damara was staring at her in the same time she decided to grab a plate and accidentally bumped into the Mordushku boy, making the fated path of his fork deviate. Damara brushed back some of her held hair behind her ear and mumbled an apology. Drawing a hand into her coat she pulled out The Vouves Crystal Wand, its engineered carbon surface glinting the candle light and alien sand a dull and falsely calming light beamed within. A few second years stared directly at it with a gasps.

"Wingardium Leviosa" The Liakos enchanted a plate of broccoli and drizzled leafy greens in front of Peigi to float. She didn't want the girl's hands to touch the plate. "Cary, would you hand that to me please?" She asked with a regal expectation while tucking away her odd wand.

Cary looked at the floating plate for a few moments before reaching out and grabbing it, eyes meeting once more with the intruding Second Year before passing the china to the girl next to him. Turning his attention back to his circle of newly found friends, he continued to cut at his meat, the beef splitting easily underneath his sharp knife. "Blimey!" Douglas spoke, mouth still full of food, though this time its contents were indiscernible. "That's a bloody cool wand; what's it made of?" Damara giggled after the question was asked. The appealing set of emotions in her chest protected against any form of humility.

"Carbon extracted from Greece's oldest bark, pressed together to turn into crystal." Showboating about the nuances her Grecian family gave her as distinct advantages over her peers she felt the need to continue, "And it has Martian Sand inside" She tossed out with a smirk unable to be hidden on her before she took a bite of her leaves.

"Cooool..." Douglas marvelled over the wand, Tamara also taking an interest and looking at the details of the wand. It was beautiful and outlandish, wildly different from everyone else's wands around the table. Cary's eyebrow even raised as he gained a closer look at the wand, watching as some of the Martian Sand from within glinted with the candle-light. "Mine's Oak, with Troll Whisker!" The Carrow boy pulled a rather lumpy looking wand from his pocket, lining it up next to Damara's own wand and grinning.

Changing the subject, Cary looked around at his new friends and smiled, sighing quietly to himself. "I trust that when Quidditch tryouts come around I will see you all there?" Damara's self-interested radiance flicked off in a flash. Cary's smile looked challenging as it did inviting. Her own lips pressed together hesitantly.

"Sports?" She laughed off, looking away to save face. Adjacent to the pure blood kids talking a Slythern boy who had been watching from a distance in admiration of the prestige the new clique had, waved a hand out.

"Hey, I'll be there." He smiled to Cary and the others. The Mordushku boy flicked his eyes towards the boy for little more than a second before refracting them, returning his vision to the new group of friends that he had acquired.

"Charming." He muttered, his tone utterly dismissive and unimpressed, causing the Slytherin boy to shrink down in his seat after Cary's lack of appreciation. Returning to the conversation at hand, Cary turned to Damara and raised his right eyebrow, his lips curling at each end. "Yes, sports." Cary affirmed, piercing green eyes locked onto Damara. "I'm certainly going for tryouts, father's been showing me the ropes."

"I won't!" Douglas spoke, now chewing on some sort of pastry, pieces of crumb all over his robes. "I get airsickness - last time I was on a Broomstick, it was on me' Uncles' vintage Nimbus 2000. I was sick all over it!" Tamara grimaced as the Carrow boy went into detail, he himself clearly not noticing her discomfort.

"I'll be there." Tamara replied. "It's something to do." She shrugged her shoulders before returning to her meal.

"I'll be there as well." Michael spoke, his voice calm to a point where he almost seemed disinterested. "My father told me that to know how a bird flies I must learn myself - I'm not sure exactly what he meant, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with me on a Broomstick."

"Excellent." Cary's eyes's flitted back to Damara, who hadn't properly responded to the question at hand. "So, what say you?" He grinned. She avoided Cary with a direct stare to Douglas.

"I'll be with Douglas that day. We can't leave new friends alone, right?" Damara slid away from admitting anything less than excellence. Her smile went to the Carrow boy till she stared at Cary content with the answer she was able to produce.

Pleasantly taken by the people she was talking too Damara only hoped that they wouldn't learn too much about her other than what she wanted to present...

[G]

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From her seat in the very centre of the Professor's dias, Emilia Medina was watching the sorting; at the same time, aware of all the comings and goings in the Great Hall. She observed the conversation between Caelin and the Hufflepuff Prefect, Wilson; and his departure from the hall shortly afterward. She noticed the third year tugging the braid of the girl beside him at the Gryffindor table, much to her annoyance, and his delight. When the boisterous puppy lunged forward to retrieve the hat, the corner of her lip twitching into what could have been the beginning of a smile; though her features retained an otherwise serious expression, betraying nothing of her thoughts. Her eyes were sharp atop a prominent nose, strong cheekbones and full lips completing a face that one could tell, in its' youth had been astonishingly beautiful. Though she did her fifty-four years justice, time had of course taken some toll on the Headmistress, but she still presented a striking picture.

Then, the sorting was complete; the Liakos child who had arrived late the last to be placed. When all had found their seats, Professor Medina rose from hers, silent for a moment as she surveyed the room with ice-blue eyes. When silence had fallen, and hundreds of small, round faces had turned to meet hers, she clasped her hands together, and smiled. It was not a wide, beaming smile; nor a toothy grin; nevertheless, it transformed the womans' face. Sombre steel melted into a face that wise and welcoming, and Professor Medina began to speak, her voice crisp, but strong and sure, loud enough to be heard in any corner of the hall.

"To our new students," she said, casting her eyes again between faces across the hall, "and those returning, welcome home. I know the journey has been long, and we are all eager for the feast, so I will keep this succinct.

Hogwarts is more than just a school. Those beside you, and at the other benches in this hall are not just your classmates; you, and they, will work together to build the future of the Wizarding community. You will be responsible, not only for each other, but the generation that follows. You will shape what the world is for them.

So I ask you, all of you. What kind of future do you want? Who do you want to be? What will you do, to achieve it?" Medina paused, her expression fierce, her hands in fist, pressed knuckle down on the table before her. Then her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled again. "I remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds, and that all students are restricted to their commonrooms after dark. Now," she clapped her hands once, "Let's eat."

As the Professor sat (amidst some confused whispers) the air above the long tables began to shimmer slightly, and before the eyes of the assembled students a smorgasbord of food began to appear. Platters of roast chicken, beef, pork and lamb; bowls of steamed and roasted vegetables; baskets of crusty bread accompanied by dishes of soft butter; any food you could name could be found somewhere amongst it all. Dotted sporadically through the spread where small bowls containing extravagant desserts. Professor Medina, seemingly finished with her dramatic welcome speech, reached for the salad bowl.


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Tilly was sitting staring up at her new Headmistress with a bemused expression. The redhead turned to the girl closest to her, a brunette who looked just a little older than herself.

"Is she always so... well, like that?" she asked, her voice probably a few decibels louder than it needed to be. Then, "Oh. My. Hippogriff! Look at this spread!" the first year shouted delightedly, bouncing in her seat as she took in the feast before her. She rubbed her palms together and promptly loaded her plate with a little of everything. As she was pouring gravy over her roast potatoes, she seemed to remember that she'd addressed the girl beside her, and looked up to grin at the girl, sticking out her free hand for her to shake.

"Oh, sorry! How rude, I just... I mean, look at this!" She gestured at the food again. "I'm Tilly!" she finished brightly.

[ｒａｂｂｉｔ]

Astryd E. & Dawn S. ;;
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Too many voices. Astryd hadn't prepared herself as well as she thought she had. Usually, the spell to block out the voices of others - their thoughts that she couldn't help but hear - would last a few classes as she could take a break and reapply as needed, but with larger crowds and extended periods of time, it wore down faster. She needed to find another solution. Such hate and ignorance radiated off of several of the new students, their thoughts making her cringe. Astryd's sharp blue eyes scanned them, trying to pick out whose antiquated bigotry was whose. Her eyes latched onto the Mordushku and then, after a time, the Liakos.

Dawn had looked over the table upon her approach, smiling the whole way as she carefully found herself a seat with out inconveniencing anyone to much, at least she hopped.

"Is this spot open?" She found herself asking a couple of girls that looked to be a couple years above her. She hopped her appearance wouldn't put them off to much but she could readily accept any first response be it shock of disgust and not be hurt, it happened so often.

Puzzling over this new Slytherin, the Grecan girl, the Hufflepuff upperclassman didn't notice her leg bobbing up and down until her friend placed a hand on it to stop and Astryd looked at her, and then the new student who had said something. Though Dawn's appearance was unconventional, Astryd found the branching scars and marbled eye mystifying, especially on such a young face. She blinked in succession rather rapidly, but broke out into a bright smile in a knee-jerk type of reaction to a new face.

"Yes, of course! Sit, please," she pushed at the brunette beside her, who laughed and pushed back a moment before scootching over to make room.

Laughter was still in Astryd's voice as the introduced the beater, "That's Marjorie Fawley, fifth-year and too big for her britches! And I'm Astryd Elkridge."

Dawn was glad the shock wasn't to bad. She smiled in return at the bright one that greeted her. "Thank you." she said watching the two girls make room for her in good fun before seating herself carefully. "It's a pleasure to meet both of you. My name Donna Scamander but most people just call me Dawn."

"You're so polite," Astryd marveled, amused, and then glanced down at the bare table in front of the first year. "And probably hungry - just a sec!"

The redhead proceeded to practically stand up as she reached to get a spare plate for Dawn, loading it up with an assortment of food that the headmistress had conjured from the kitchens. She then sat and plopped the plate down in front of Dawn with a playful, "Tah-dah!"

Dawn chuckled. "Oh!-" She was about to agree when Astryd stood to grab her a plate. "Why thank you." She said looking at the pile of food on the brand new plate. "Oh it all looks so good." She breathed her eyes widening but her good one really taking in the sight. It made her miss Ilvermorny all the more but made her just as excited for this coming year as well! She couldn't help thinking over what the head mistress said as well.

"This year is going to have a lot of getting used to I suppose." She murmured as she picked up a bit of food. "I wounder if this is how muggles feel when they move." She chuckled. Astryd heard Dawn's thoughts louder than she'd heard her words and the redhead chuckled, too, as she filled her own plate. She tried to focus elsewhere, so she wouldn't hear anything in Dawn's thoughts that was too intrusive - talking with people was too much fun.

"What year are you?" She asked, turning to Astryd. Marjorie had already been introduced at a fifth year. "I should be a third year this year but I'm guessing your above my year."

"I'm a sixth year," Astryd confirmed with a bob of her head. She smiled proudly and said, "Hufflepuff quidditch chaser and captain, too. Do you follow quidditch?"

Her copper hair fell forward over her shoulders as she reached for a bowl of brussel sprouts drizzled with butter sauce. She put a large spoonful on her plate next to the potatoes and gravy and popped one into her mouth, chewing then swallowing before she spoke again. Astryd said, "Third year huh? Held back? Or transfer?"

"I'm afraid not as closely as some others." Dawn replied with a slight smile as she waved her hand in front of her white eye. "I'm terribly clumsy at times and my depth perception is a tad off, while it sounds terribly fun I doubt I'd be able to last let alone keep up by watching it." She chuckled. She took a bite as Astryd filled her plate and swallowed down a buttered Brussels sprout. Covering her mouth Dawn spoke after swallowing "Transfer actually, I went to Ilvermorny two years prior."

"Ah, I can see how that might be a problem," Astryd nodded, a bit solemn for a moment, and then listening as Dawn announced she'd been to Ilvermorny.

"Oh! That explains the accent!" Astryd's own Irish one probably had contrasted against the British around her, but Dawn's American accent was refreshing - even her thoughts, at least what Astryd had glimpsed of them, where a little different. "What brought you 'cross the pond?"

Dawn nodded. "Some business that my father isn't at liberty to tell us I'm afraid." She said. "Wish I knew more." she said wistfully before lightly shaking her head. "ah, but I don't regret it, I've always wanted to visit Hogwarts, but I never actually thought I'd be going to it."

"Oooh, MACUSA top secret business!" Astryd teased. "Well, I'm glad you're glad to be here! We're glad to have you! Oooh, try one of these!"

Astryd reached for a floating desert (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h-ctxaAi8qI/VQpJH4ticrI/AAAAAAAADpg/TFX5eKpnpg4/s1600/IMG_9659.jpg) bowl that passed by, snatching it right out of the air, and placed it down next to Dawn's dinner plate. She grabbed one for herself before continuing.

"I always found the history of Ilvermorny very interesting - a visit would be fascinating. Did you enjoy going there? Your classes? I wonder if here will be much different - what do you think so far?" Astryd shut up long enough to cut herself from of the roast she'd put on her plate and eat, listening to Dawn's response.

"I did love going there, Perhaps one day we could go together," she suggested with a smile .Dawn was quite happy to answer Astryd's questions as she tried the desert bowl like she was told. "Well, I can't say how different the classes are yet but I know house sorting is vastly different."

Astryd nodded, mouth full of food and then temporarily distracted by an uproar at the Gryffindor table; she turned and gave them a puzzled look and then focused back on Dawn as she continued.

"I think Hogwarts is wonderful," Dawn said, allowing her eyes to roll across the room again. "It's so full of history, the flow of magic and knowledge through the very stones. You know, Ilvermorny was biased off of Hogwarts so its like this place is a big part of Ilvermorny's history in a way."

Swallowing hard, the redhead licked her lips and smiled as she said, "It is, but the way they sort the students there is different, right? Even the qualities? Which house were you - what was it like? It must be similar to Hufflepuff in some aspects, since..."

She gestured to the long table they sat at, draped in the badger's colors of yellow and black rather proudly. Marjorie gave a hoot about something another student said and Astryd curiously peered over Dawn's head at her friend, then snapped her attention back to the transfer. She said, laughing and clutching the girl's arm lightly, "Sorry, it gets weird in here sometimes and you miss one thing and then you're out of the loop for inside jokes until All Hallow's Eve or even Christmas!"

"It is." The third year replied in agreement. "Back in Ilvermorny there are four statues, when a student steps into the center the statues react according to which house wants the student, if more then one statue react its up to the student to chose."

She said with a smile, "I went with the thunderbird house. Thunderbird favor Adventurers, Pukwudgie favor healers, Wampus favor warriors and Horned Serpent favor scholars." Dawn mused for a moment. "I would say in a way, all my house mates were hard working and that's what I've heard of Hufflepuffs." She replied as she gazed at the down the table at the proud colors.

She managed to look back in time to catch Astryd jerking her attention back to her and chuckled. "No worries there. I'm out of the loop most of the time anyways," she joked, laughing softly. "I know I have a bad habit of getting caught up in my favorite studies. So if I ever get to lost feel free to shake me back to the waking world."

"Adventurers, huh?" Astryd pondered. "Most Hufflepuffs are homebodies, but there's a bunch of things that make someone who they are."

Tipping her head she looked at Dawn, thinking, trying to stay out of her head as she learned more about her. She smirked a little, blue eyes glittering in the candlelight overhead as she said, "Oh I'll be the first to bring you back, trust! You seem like good company. Which of those studies are your favorite, Dawn? I prefer the Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and Transfiguration myself. And don't ask me to do any Arithmancy or tell your future of anything."

She made a little wince and then took a drink of apple cider from the goblet near her pate.

"Care of Magical Creatures all the way," Dawn said lighting up instantly upon the mention of the class. It was positively and powerfully her passion. Magical, none magical it didn't matter to her. "I'm alright at charms and transfiguration but otherwise I'm lacking in most other subjects," she admitted.

Astryd laughed and nudged the girl, delighted to hear her favoring for classes. Amusement making her voice light, she said, "Sounds like we'll get along swimmingly! Do you know if they're submitting you to the first-year treatment or are they taking into consideration your years at Ilvermorny and slipping you into third year classes? That's what they'd do with muggle students for a transfer like this. The teaching criteria can't be that different, right?"

Astryd pulled out her wand (https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0700/3777/products/61MFrbbOheL._SL1500_large.jpg?v=1480158103) from the pocket of her yellow-lined robes and gave it a flourish, aiming it at one of the passing, floating deserts before she said, "Can you do this? Immobulus."

The deserts hung, frozen, in mid air.

"I'm not sure," she responded. Dawn had to think about that but to be honest, she didn't know. "But it would make sense if I just went along with it. As you said it can't be that different." She watched as the girl brought her wand forth and cast a spell. It looked simple enough but Dawn new better then to underestimate the spell.

"Perhaps," she said watching the deserts hanging in the air. "But I'm unsure if I want to try it right here." She chuckled, "What are the odds that I'll make the wrong gesture and I'd cover everyone in deliciousness?"

Astryd cocked her head, considering her answer before saying, "Well, it is a year-two spell here, so maybe Ilvermorny was a little different?" She gave a little shrug, twitched the end of her wand and the dishes continued on.

"I would definitely consider at least consulting with a professor before classes begin. Perhaps there's some kind of aptitude test for this sort of thing? Maybe Professor Grimm?" Astryd's eyes flashed up to the table across the end of the dining hall, trying to spot her favorite. She didn’t see him and then, just a touch disappointed, turned back to her meal.

[P.K.]

Fira turned her attention to the Hyper girl that had set down next to her. She had her chin leaning on her one hand which was propped on the edge of the table. "Hum? Oh ya." Fira murmured. "She's always like that." she said simply before looking over the the spread that appeared before them, it wasn't surprising anymore oh but it made her mouth water anyways and her stomach growl loudly. The redhead wasted no time digging in so Fira took the que and started filling her plate, if a little more slowly.

She dropped a bit of lamb onto her plate as the girl seemed to turn to her again. "Easily distracted arn't ya?" Fira found herself asking before looking at the girls hand. It wouldn't last long but she took it and shook it firmly. "I'm Fira. and don't think anything of it." She said simply "It probably wont be the first or last time.". She didn't expect the friendliness to last long as the other kids already seemed to be getting nervous. "You'll get used to it, but it is rather cool when you first see it, I know I was stoked." Her stomach growled before she went ahead and took a bite of her food taring off a large chunk. She didn't mind getting her hands a little greasy the food was well worth it, screw a fork and knife!

[G]

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The boisterous first year never having been one for timidness, she seemed unaware of the intimidating presence Fira seemed to hold over the other students sitting nearby - not too close, she would have realised if she was more perceptive of her surroundings.

"Get used to this? I sure hope so!" she replied, delighted at the prospect that this was the norm, and not simply a bit of extravagance to show off on the first night.

"But who makes it all?"


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Caelin Grimm had slipped back into his seat, having returned from his rather stressful journey to the station and back with young Damara. He wasn't surprised to see her sorted to Slytherin - though he kicked himself, inwardly, at the thought. He was a Professor, after all - he should not be swayed by stereotypical thoughts of the houses, as the students were. And though he knew she would not appreciate it, he felt a certain empathetic pity for the new student, oldest of her peers and decidedly different amongst them. He was used to being liked, as an adult, at any rate, and it had been rather offputting to have his kindness so violently brushed aside. He would try to help her anyway, he decided; perhaps a little foolishly optimistic about how she would respond to further attempts at support. Katrin, too, had been placed in Slytherin - he shouldn't be glum about that either, for the same reasons he'd thought a moment ago. There was nothing wrong with the house - but he had been rather hoping she would be sorted into Hufflepuff.

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Elladonna wore the same ambivalent expression she had since the beginning of the feast, looking over each of the new Slytherins as they joined the table. A sorry-looking bunch, she thought; though to be fair, she thought this every year. It would remain to be seen if any of these newbies would live up to the height she expected of her housemates - and few did, since Ella's opinion of herself was so high, and this was her basis for comparison. She served herself a modest portion of food, occasionally responding to attempts at conversation from her 'friends.' She had a group of girls and boys who considered her such, though truthfully, she wouldn't spill her secrets to any of them - it was convenient, to be admired, and so she allowed some people close enough to feel she liked them.

"Karl, Arna;" she nodded to her two main associates, who were sat close beside her, and stood; making her way to the doors main halls. It was amongst her prefect duties to escort the new first years to their commonroom - not her favourite task, but a good opportunity to take their measure.

[G]

For a time, the sounds of chatter, laughter and the scraping of silverware on crockery filled the hall; bouncing from the long, wooden tables to the arching ceiling with its vivid depiction of the night sky above. From the dias above them all, Emilia Medina watched; her expression solemn, and with a hint - for those who looked closely enough - of foreboding. Why, no-one could say - it seemed the beginning of a year like any other. New students mingled with old, excited and trepidatious about what the beginning of their magical careers might bring. The other teachers didn't seem to share this brooding something lingering in the back of Medina's eyes; certainly not Grimm, who was tucking enthusiastically into his dinner.

Eventually, the plates were cast aside on the benches, picked clean; to magically disappear back to the kitchens. Older students trickled out in groups, toward their commonrooms; the younger ones milled at the entrance, waiting to be shown to the beds they would occupy for the majority of the next seven years. Medina remained - the last to leave, and when the room was empty she surveyed it silently, still brooding for unknown reasons. Even to herself...

Whatever it was that was filling her heart with these emotions would have to remain to be seen; but the woman trusted her instincts, and innately, she knew. This year would be far from average - why, she could not tell. But every witch and wizard in this castle would be tested... and not all would pass through unscathed.