The Start of Term Feast

[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]

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.



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. ;;

---

---

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 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 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]

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?"



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.


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.