Good morning, first years. (Slytherin First Year Girls & Ella Archer)

[Death of Korzan]

Tamara fiddled with the girl's hair, trying to decide on a particular style - she hadn't had much experience doing other girls' hair, being an only child and all. "Oh, my house isn't all that important really - but we are one of the Sacred Twenty Eight!" Tamara quickly spouted, puffing her chest up slightly with pride. The Sacred Twenty Eight were an ancient collection of Pureblood houses - the last in Britain, and it was something that Tamara took great pride in being part of. "Of course, we're not as old as House Liakos, but my family can trace itself back years and years." Leaning down and whispering to the girl, Tamara excitedly hissed. "Apparently, my great Aunt fought with the Dark Lord over a century ago!"

Returning to her original posture, the girl giggled as though she had just told Damara some heated gossip, returning to the girl's hair. Pausing as she had plaited one section of the hair at the front - leaving the rest hanging down - Tamara placed a finger to her chin in thought. "What do you think?"

[HaelKatrin]

"No one minds. There's no reason we should mine a girl changing in the girl's room." Came back Katrin's soft answer. Once more, she'd returned to the girl they had met in the dinning room. Quiet, and keeping to herself.

Having already been dressed before Damara had shown up, she decides to make her way out of the room. Knowing the others would feel better with her no longer in there. She makes her way down the stairs once more.

[Minkasha]

“The Sacred Twenty Eight” Youthful lips whispered, and she listened on intently. She remembered from her studies this group, but to hear its name said from the lips of someone who belonged – it rang with power in her ears. The sound of Tamara’s confidence in her family touched Damara. Family, and merit within the blood. She kept herself still as Tamara brushed and tamed some of the fuzz of her hair. She was tingling with good feelings, comradery.

"Apparently, my great Aunt fought with the Dark Lord over a century ago!" The Grecian nodded. The Dark Lord. Much wasn’t said about him in Greece, in what she studied. To her family, little world history mattered. The Dark Lord was respected for his ambitions, but he failed and did not stand the test of time. His legacy wasn’t to be immortal, and instead he damaged the view of proper blooded. He humiliated the purebloods by losing. It was said his appearance was terrifying. At least Damara would never see his face.

Tamara played and set her hair, Damara not able to study it until the lesser blooded blonde spoke up. Damara eyed her once in suspicion, not trusting a single word the girl said. And she watched the girl wheel off and out of the room. The hatred in the girl’s olive eyes bore through the door.

“Tamara! I love it!” Damara exclaimed, stroking the braid of hair decorating the right side of her face and touching the waves of brown running just past her shoulders. “No one’s done that for me before…” Damara admitted with a blush.

[Death of Korzan]

"I'm glad!" Tamara cried with enthusiasm, clapping her hands rapidly together. She was indeed happy the Greek girl liked what she had done with her hair, as Tamara had been at first worried that she would screw it up. Not knowing exactly how Damara wanted it done, Tamara had given her a hairstyle her mother gave her often, hoping for the best - and by Damara's reaction, she had received it.

"So, what's the plan for today girl?"

[Minkasha]

Ms. Liakos counted her blessings from the Fates to have met Tamara. The beaming happiness channeled this appreciation and with her free hand Damara grabbed the other girl’s.

“I will make the others in class respect me. And I will make the boys remember that I am the princess of my house. I will make Liakos’ legacy in Hogwarts prestigious!” Damara laughed, slipping away and grabbing her makeup to add with her new clothes. “I will see you soon, in class” Damara promised and whisked away to the girl’s bathroom.

**