Hello Students! Welcome back to Hogwarts.
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Setting: Hogwarts School of Magic, September 1st
All returning students are welcome to participate in the traditional feast of the first night back at Hogwarts. It welcomes the start of the school year and is notable for the Sorting of all new first year students into their Houses.
This is the time for seniors to relax and catch up with one another before their busy school schedule lives begin. Hundreds of plates with a plethora of dining choices is prepared magically on the dining tables. Like last year, students are not restricted to sit according to their houses.
Once the Feast is over, students are expected to be back in their dorms before curfew. The menu for the feast is down below. Enjoy!
◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ KEITH ◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ ANDERSON ◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ THE TROUBLEMAKER // GRYFFINDOR
mood: AT HOME | LOCATION: GREAT HALL | TIME: 7:00 PM
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The Sorting Ceremony at Hogwarts has always proved to be a praiseworthy sight. Numerous effulgent candles floated in the air, kept still and hovered by charms and spells. Food never fell short on any student's plate, magically refilling itself until one pleaded no more. Chattering voices filled the Great Hall and the bountiful feast continue to remain jubilantly warm. It was in such a place where Keith felt truly at home.
While most students greatly preferred breaks over their hectic school terms, Keith was anything but the sort. What others called "home' was what Keith could call a penitentiary; a sequestered confinement at best, involving empty walls and wide halls. The new space he had occupied during his break was grand just like the previous but nothing warm, nothing familiar. Nothing like Hogwarts.
The comparison between the two were as stark as black and white. Dwelling on it was pointless. The cycle of endless moves was something he had long accepted and grown accustomed to. He was back now and in that moment, that was all mattered.
The Sorting Ceremony for the new first years had just ended leaving the masses to applaud at the batch of fresh blood students. Some with vigorous support for their house cheered loudly while more diffident students welcomed their juniors with opened arms. From the crowd of first years, Keith spotted one kid who looked awfully familiar chatting up with another Hufflepuff freshman who bore the same last name as his pink-headed best friend. Another young Hufflepuff student - this time a face Keith could put a name to - had approached the two, showing them the way to their seats.
Keith recognized the student as Rachel Dalca. A second year student with a great knack for spells and a greater love for chocolate cake. Her brother, Phyrun Dalca, was one who was in his grade and yet despite that, Keith had found his exchanges with the younger more frequently so than the older. He was pretty sure he knew more about the Ravenclaw male from his sister than himself and wondered the brunet knew. Age had never been something which limited his sociability and Keith was planning to make it one of his goals to know Phyrun better. (good luck asha)
Meeting the young girl's eye, Keith grinned and waved before returning to search the sea of people for more familiar faces. Albeit, he knew almost everyone around him, it wasn't the people he was looking for. Unlike per usual, Keith wasn't looking for Aivree, Hailey or his female counterpart, Quinn. Well, technically he was but his priorities were lying elsewhere much like his mind which had wandered back to last semester where he had encountered one of the most beautiful males in his life.
Valerius Rosier - presumably one of the closest people to come to the word "crush" throughout Keith's 'wiser' late two years in Hogwarts - had been Keith's subject of interest
and a victim of his constant annoying charming presence. Admittedly, his feelings had been nothing more than infatuation in the beginning but as the two shared more interactions, Keith found himself sinking in a hole he had not expected to be caught in.
It scared him.
And yet silver blue continued to scan the crowds looking for the unruly mass of soft brown curls. They stopped when they landed on someone so unpleasant that Keith's immediate response was to cringe. Sebastian Blutmond. Arch-enemy and self proclaimed King of all things rotten. Keith hated the male with a passion and it was only through him did he spark the stereotypical rivalry Slytherins and Gryffindors are thought to have. And to think that Keith once upon a time thought the male was nice. It was a good thing he never said that aloud; it would have been the joke of the century.
Seated beside him was a pureblood Slytherin female. Like Quinn, her notable hair color made her stand out from the rest. Under the warm gleam of candle lights, Belladonna's curled locks appeared cream in color. It was a pretty shade Keith could give credit for, not to mention her hair color was all natural.
Getting up from his seat, Keith moved from the table he was seated at for another attempt to search for his friends. He had came late to the Ceremony - no surprise there - and was forced to stay seated near the corner until the Sorting was completed. Punctuality had always been something the male was poor at with the exception of quidditch matches and important dates.
He made his way through awfully slow, granted the fact that he would stop every few minutes to chat with anyone who greeted him. There were few who didn't and his inability to stay focus only thwarted him from his original goal. Halfway down one of the long tables, Keith found Oliver across the table and Penelope with the half veela Mila (hehe rhyme). Oddly enough, Keith did not see her usual brotherly figure around her. He was just about to call out to her until he noticed the unfamiliar Ravenclaw student before him.
This proved to be puzzling. Maybe even vexing.
Although Keith did not know everyone in the school, he took great pride in knowing that he could at least name everyone in his year and the year below him. This male looked around his age and someone Keith easily assumed to be the transfer student he overheard Professor Myron talking about. While others would have tucked that information away and left the boy in his peace, Keith followed the norm no more than he followed the school rules.
Wide grin on face, he sat himself besides the boy - close enough to show that he had intentionally entered the stranger's bubble. Personal space was something he was learning to take mind of, but given the already crowded seats, Keith was sure this could pass off as excusable.
"Hey, you're new around here aren't you?" he started, grabbing one of the empty plates and piling a slice of roast beef on top. "The name's Keith. Nice to meet you." It was your standard greeting. Extended hand and pearly smile. There was no reason not to accept the sudden introduction. After all, the new transfer student had no idea just how much trouble a simple handshake could get himself into.
• • • It wasn't often that Oliver enjoyed crowded rooms full of over-excited, rowdy, and rambunctious teenagers - but today was sort of an exception. Especially when the Great Hall was decorated beautifully, like it was today - with the House flags strung up, the the food laid out artistically on the tables, and the candles floating above like little stars in the sky. People were talking, & laughing; and the air held an excited and home-like twinge in it. It was just a really beautiful sort of chaos, as it always was during the Sorting ceremonies, and anyone who would deny it's beauty was most definitely blind.
Before the Sorting Ceremony had ended, Oliver had clapped and cheered along with his peers, as each new Ravenclaw took a seat at their table - which, cheering wasn't something he usually did; but at the Sorting Ceremony, how could anyone not cheer? The Head's from each House gave a few choice words, before the Headmaster Mcgonagall gave permission for everyone to begin the feast - which also meant that now was the time for everyone to mingle and reconcile with their friends.
Oliver had of course seated himself beside Phyrun during the ceremony, but right after it ended, his sixth year friend made a bee-way to go greet his younger sister, Rachel. It was obvious that Phyrun was a bit over-protective of his sister, so much so that he had said once that he 'wished he had been sorted intoHufflepuff just so he could keep a better eye on her'. Which was definitely an insane statement to Oliver, cause what sort of Ravenclaw would willingly say that they wished to be a Hufflepuff, without wanting to cringe? But Phyrun had his reason, and his reason was his sister - and it wasn't like Phyrun was ever really going to be become a Hufflepuff and leave Oliver alone in Ravenclaw; so it was fine.
From his seat, he looked around the Great Hall, searching for familiar faces from previous years that he knew he wanted to greet - one of them in particular being Belladonna.. If he knew her decently, he'd say that she was most likely going to be somewhere near the Slytherin table, with Valerius and their third wheel, Sebastian; but after several minutes of looking that way, he realized he was being pathetic and decided to stop. He'd be able to say hello to everyone he wanted to eventually, whether it be at the feast or in a couple of days - there really wasn't a reason to rush, especially when it came to saying hello to Bella.
He decided to instead search down his own table, noticing half of the Ravenclaw's get up to join their friends at other tables, while the other half stayed to delve into the usual talk of classes and extra credit. (Extra-credit that Oliver was un-aware of, otherwise he would've done it.) He said his hello's to the few Ravenclaw's around him, before asking one of them to elaborate about the extra credit. The one Ravenclaw began eagerly explaining that it wasn't 'really extra-credit, more like self-given assignments and quizzes that they had given themselves to be extra prepared for 5th year -' and then another Ravenclaw joined in, explaining that 'It's going to help give them a better basis for what they were going to learn, and - blah bleh blah.' Oliver sort of tuned out towards the end of the ramble, mostly because he had thought they were referring to 'legit' extra-credit that was worth actual credit. He already knew the importance of pre-studying, so he wasn't exactly intrigued or interested to hear them continue rambling about it.
As the two Ravenclaw's continued to chatter on, he suddenly noticed someone towards the end of the Ravenclaw table, who he didn't recognize. It could've been a first year, who was already half way done with puberty; but 'early puberty' wasn't very common, especially among boys.
"Do either of you know that is?"Cutting off the Ravenclaws who were mid-ramble, he nodded his head towards the unknown face at the end of the table. They both seized conversation, to lean across and look. "Are you referring to the one sitting next to that Gryffindor, Keith?"
Oliver leaned carefully back in his seat to get a better look, only to see that Keith was indeed sitting next to the unknown Ravenclaw. "Hm, I hadn't noticed Keith... But yes, the one right next to him, with the black hair, is the one I'm asking about."
The two went on to say that they hadn't seen dark haired Ravenclaw before; and that 'perhaps he was a first year, or maybe even a transfer'. Oliver nodded giving a quiet thanks, before standing up (and, again, interrupting them mid-ramble) to do a quick search for Phyrun... Only it wasn't as quick of a search as he'd thought, since there were so people in the Great Hall that it was rather difficult, even for Oliver, to quickly locate him; but a few moment more of looking over the Hufflepuff table (and almost accidentally making eye contact with Mila, of all Hufflepuffs) he spotted Phyrun. He tried to make eye-contact with him from across the room, and once he thought he had successfully done so, he motioned with his thumb down towards the end of the Ravenclaw table, mouthing the words, 'I'll be over there'. Hopefully Phyrun understood what he was trying to say. (It wasn't like he was stupid or daft or anything; Oliver had faith that his friend would know where to find him if and when he wanted to.)
A minute or so later, Oliver had managed to wedge himself into a seat right across from Keith and the mysterious fellow. He gave a thorough look over the new Ravenclaw, quickly coming to the conclusion that there was absolutely no way he was a first year - his jaw was too chizzled, his adam's apple was already developed, & he was pretty sure he saw a bit more peach fuzz on his upper lip than the average person... He also quickly noticed the the guy was unfortunately being squished by the rather popular Gryffindor, whom was known to have no knowledge of personal space, whatsoever.
"Keith, you're practically sitting on him; give him at least some air to breathe." he said, not even bothering to give Keith a 'Nice to see you', or a 'How was your summer'.He took a glass, to fill it 3/4th's the way full with green tea. (Green tea he knew wouldn't be as tasteful as his own self-boiled tea, but - today was a special occasion, & water didn't fit in with the 'special' theme.) He made sure to take a sip that was at least four seconds long, before placing it back onto the table and resuming his focus on the fellow Ravenclaw. "So - who are you, exactly? I'm sure I haven't seen you around among the Ravenclaw's, and I highly doubt that you're a first year... Are a transfer student or something?"
-- i wanna make you mine but that's hard to say --
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Quinn repeated under her breath as she raced around the school, her raven black school robe flying behind her as she continuously ran past the staircase to the Great Hall. Her faded pink hair that was tied into a high ponytail slowly sagged into a low ponytail but Quinn didn't care, she was already late as it was and if she stopped to care about her appearance, Professor McGonagall would be onto her on the first day.
After spending what seemed like an eternity of running around, Quinn finally found the Grand Hall. The bubblegum beauty bounced into the room, her pink hair sticking out like a sore thumb as she tried to regain her breath. Quinn flashed a sheepish smile before shuffling into the crowd and gaining a disappointed look from McGonagall. Fuck.
Quinn continuously greeted other Gryffindor students, who mostly called her 'bg' or 'bubblegum' because of Keith's habit of nicknames, as she tried to find a familiar face, mainly Keith but anyone would do for her, she just needed to look like trouble wasn't following her for one night, that wouldn't be too hard for her, right? A small smile curled upon Quinn's lips as she recognised a familiar face other than her partner-in-crime. "Aviree!" The pink hair girl cried out with joy as she raced up to Aviree, wrapping the girl in her arms for a big hug. "Thank god I found you," She huffed with a smile as she quickly scanned the area for any teacher nearby, "McGonagall is onto me and it's not even the first day yet." Quinn whispered with a coy smirk as she glanced over to the headmistress before returning her gaze back to Aviree with a sweet smile. "So, found anyone cute yet?" Quinn smirked as she jokingly elbowed Aviree in the arm, "Have you seen Keith and Hailey as well?" She asked with a raised brow and a curious smirk.
outfit - school uniform + xxx ;; with - aviree ;; tags - @Sasil ;; location - The Grand Hall
The overflowing metallic stench of platform nine and three quarters, the endless ride of the Hogwarts Express, and the monotonous routine of having to bear through an hour of McGonagall's full speech (or at least it felt like an hour). These are the very thing that signal the dreadful end to school break. Five years of roaming through the halls, going up and down the same staircases which he was pretty sure to memorize every nook and crannies of the castle. This was enough to make even floating candles and the never ending appearance of the classic Hogwarts' feast to cease in fascination. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny he was missing the routine. Hell, he could even already smell the familiar dampness to their common room, hear the soothing swishing of water by their window. Not to mention that occasionally nosy giant squid.
Again, it was the same view each year. The candles to baffle the first-years, especially those retarded mudbloods, and that classic magic trick of conjuring food out of thin air. The ghosts are too preoccupied by their own somersaults, the entertained first years pointing and laughing, though faintly he could hear a small girl cry in fear. Sebastian knew it all too well. But there was one thing that differs this year, one thing that stood out from the rest.
Pandora, his good-for-nothing bratty little sister, was going for her first year. Sebastian would've been fine with it, even non-affected, however, it was his parents' demands, which he deemed way too overprotective, to look after the girl. Also, to make things worse, to make sure she got in to Slytherin. And that was where everything went wrong.
In all honesty, Sebastian wouldn't have cared less if she went for Ravenclaw. Among all other three houses, those purples are the most tolerable in his dictionary, even when most of them walk with a stick up their asses. But as he leaned forward in anticipation, his surname called out along with his sister's first, he felt as the world stopped when that god forsaken sorting had chimed the house he had feared most:
Every possible houses, it just had to be the utter most useless, idiotic, and...disgraceful. Sebastian could imagine that the Hufflepuffs spent their holidays catching butterflies and laughing over a cup of hot cocoa. The thought itself sent shivers down his spine. His sister, a Blutmond, is a Hufflepuff?! No matter how many times he repeated it in his head, it never made sense. What freaked him out more was how she was not in any way bothered by it. In fact, with that stupid freckled grin of hers, she squealed and hugged a nearby Hufflepuff girl. He tried to send her a look, but she returned none, besides that one time she stuck her tongue out at him.
Sebastian sighed, suddenly losing all his appetite. For that whole ten minutes, he had forgotten about Belladonna and Valerius, who were both absorbed by the meal before them. And he had forgotten that this was also the time period where he had to abide through the torturous Gryffindor abomination called Keith bloody Anderson. Sebastian couldn't spot the male amidst the crowd, and he was thankful for it. The day started bad enough without him. And then there is that bottle-dyed cotton candy hair called Quinn, who was almost as bad or even worse than Keith. And also that lesbian house elf. If people call the Harry Potter trio the golden trio, then theirs is definitely something directly of opposite. Somewhere along bird droppings perhaps. Once more he thanked the lords that not a strand of pink was seen throughout the ceremony (he probably couldn't see the tiny one anyway).
The others? Well, over the cherished monthly break from their hideous faces, Sebastian doubted he could remember how they even look like anymore. He suppose they were way too insignificant after all. Except Mila perhaps. Though a filthy half-breed (as Sebastian likes to say), the girl still remained gorgeous. She stood out from the rest, like a star amongst...dirt. The sight of seeing the awed chubby faces of first years who witnessed her for the very first time was so amusing it almost managed to crack a smile on his face. Almost. Then there's also this flying rumors of a transfer student from Ilvermorny, which he suppose was that tall ass flat-faced guy looming in the sea of four feet first years. Which he could barely care less at this point.
His irritation seeped so much in him that he had forgotten all the plans of pestering Bella and Val about their break (even when he probably have pestered them enough during the ride to Hogwarts) perished into thin air. In fact, he shot them a look, a look that was probably way meaner than intended despite him not technically mad at them. What can he say, he is very moody. And when he rants, everyone has to listen. Especially if their names are Belladonna Coben and Valerius Rosier, who both had their fair share of the classic Sebastian sulky rant.
"Did you see Dora?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he glanced back and forth between his two childhood friends. "Did you see her get sorted into that unworthy excuse for a house? I knew that the girl's brick dumb, but sorting a Blutmond into Hufflepuff is pure madness. Rather have her expelled. I think she's been drugged, don't you think she's been drugged?" he narrowed his gaze, as though still expecting a confirmation to his nonsensical hypothesis.
Standing at the back of the flock of small little children babbling excitedly away, Killian folded his arms loosely across his chest and rested his weight on one foot, a finger touching lightly on the wand pouch tied to his wrist. He was tempted – oh so tempted – to vanish the next owner of grubby fingers incessantly tugging at his new Hogwarts robes but he wasn’t looking forward to being expelled even before he was officially admitted into the school. So he settled for staring unblinkingly at the midgets until they were freaked out of their little minds and left him alone. Sure, it was a tad mean, but it provided him with mild entertainment until the doors opened. There was nothing else he could do other than interrogate ghosts, two of which had already fled after his endless string of questions and the others were keeping well away. Killian scoffed softly under his breath. Bunch of pansies. They were already dead, so what’s the harm in letting him experiment on them? Nothing could kill a ghost more. The only risk they faced was exorcism.
Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of enduring the first-years, the heavy double doors opened and allowed him the first glimpse of the famous dining hall. The enchanted ceiling was definitely every bit…enchanting…as the books described and the throng of students seated at the four tables was mildly intimidating. His appreciation of Hogwarts’ interior decoration aside, he couldn’t help comparing it to Ilvermorny in every way, from the mode of transport to initiation of the first-years, from the crests of each House to the staff that occupied the table at the right-hand side of the Hall. As far as he could see, there were no lingering signs of the damage wrought during the Second Wizarding War of Britain, no visible scars lining the old stones and tapestries. It was to be expected, after all. Magic could fix almost anything. His inner musing was interrupted when an amplified voice of a squeaky male resounded throughout the Great Hall. Thanking his father for his height, Killian swept a glance over the heads of the first-years, eyes coming to a stop upon the dwarf of a Charms Professor. Filius Flitwick was old. And don’t forget small. But he still had presence, and if the news had it right, this Professor was an active participant in the Battle of Hogwarts. To do that all and live was admirable. He just hoped Professor Flitwick was as good and engaging in Charms as Ilvermorny’s Professor Carin. Killian would be sorely disappointed if Flitwick didn’t measure up. Charms was one of his best subjects, and his favourite. As it should be, for most healing spells were charms.
It took a few tries to acquire total silence, but Flitwick managed it in the end, and Killian paid rapt attention to the welcome speech and introduction. Incredulous didn’t quite describe his feeling upon learning that an enchanted hat was going to determine the student’s Houses. A hat. Really? He simply had to write to his friends about this. But truly, allowing wooden carvings to determine one’s House was much more dignifying, and where was the democracy in allowing a student to choose a House if more than one was picked? Could the student be suited for more than one House? Killian did read ‘Hogwarts: A History’ during the long trip aboard the Hogwarts Express and had determined that he was somewhere in between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. While he was rather eager to find out where on the Hogwarts spectrum of values he fell under, he didn’t look forward to a sentient hat digging around in his head. It didn’t sound pleasant, and there were more than a few thoughts he would much rather keep to himself.
So it was with mild trepidation that Killian ascended the stairs and lowered himself on the stool, wishing now more than ever that he was an Occlumens. He didn’t trust the Hat not to spill his secrets until he knew intimately how the enchantment worked, but even then, he would –
“Already thinking about tearing me apart?” A nasally, deep voice sounded in his head, making Killian click his tongue in annoyance. “Have no fear. I cannot speak of what I see even at the Headmaster’s command.”
“That’s extremely reassuring. Forgive me if I don’t take the words of an ancient hat at face value.” Killian replied drily, before his mind leapt forward several metaphorical leagues to the important questions about what sort of charm created the Sorting Hat, if it would work on another inanimate object or even a living organism.
The Hat fell silent, occasionally mumbling to itself about ambition and intellect and frankly disturbing obsessions. All of which he tuned out, for it was abundantly clear the Sorting Hat didn’t wish to stray from topic. A couple taps from his fingers against the stool and eventually, the decision was made. Ravenclaw it was. With a mental shrug, Killian pulled the hat from atop his head and dropped it on the stool, giving a curt nod of acknowledgment towards Professor Flitwick before making his way towards the table beneath a blue banner. Choosing a spot near the end of the table that was thankfully not surrounded by boisterous sorts of people, he fingered his now blue-and-bronze striped tie as he covertly scanned the sea of faces. Strangers, all. He wasn’t interested in interacting with anyone so soon, and with his new colours, he was just another Ravenclaw.
The Sorting Ceremony over, Headmistress Mcgonagall stood to deliver what he could only assume was the typical “Welcome back” speech. It seemed in this aspect, the Wizarding and Witchcraft Schools were not all too different. Introduction of staff to the new students, overview of rules and regulations that applied for all years, something about Quidditch, House cups and Hogsmeade. There were no mentions of duelling clubs or the like, and Killian couldn’t help the disgruntled twitch of his lips as he turned towards the empty plate before him. Didn’t Hogwarts have a duelling club? Or was that only part of the Defense Against the Dark Arts course? He would have to ask around sometime soon.
The appearance of food before him managed to distract him for a moment. That was, until his personal space was rather abruptly intruded by a grinning stranger. On instinct, he recoiled slightly from the adolescent even as he swept indifferent eyes over the guy. Scarlet and gold announced him as a member of House Gryffindor even if one could not see the crest displayed on the material over the left side of the chest. As the self-introduced Keith was not seated so close they were touching, Killian decided to let it slide. Besides, it wasn’t as if the cramped tables allowed for a comfortable distance between seated neighbours. He eyed the extended hand as though it was a feline’s paw with sharp glistening claws and absently equalled the bright smile to that of a Cheshire’s grin. There was nothing malicious and after a couple heartbeats of silence, Killian grasped the outstretched hand, shook it exactly once firmly before letting go immediately.
“Pleasure. The name’s Killian.” He replied with little inflection to his tone. Terse, short and giving away absolutely nothing more. The guy would most likely be on his way once he realised Killian would be saying nothing more.
He was about to divulge the fact that he was a transfer when someone slid into the seat opposite Keith and him, prompting Killian to glance over. The new arrival was a fellow Ravenclaw, with intelligent eyes lined with bags beneath. But that didn’t conceal the sharpness in his gaze. The curt addressing of Keith meant they were at least close acquaintances. In fact, both students didn’t seem much older than he was, and he felt confident enough to assume they were both Upper Year students, no younger than him.
“Killian Falkenhausten.” He repeated himself, this time deigning to give his full name. They were in the same House, after all, and there might be another Killian lurking about for all he knew. “Indeed. I am a transfer student from Ilvermorny. Now you know who I am, I suppose it’s only fair to introduce yourself.”
It was out of years of practice that his scowl didn't show in his face. He hated the beginning of term because of this ridiculous feast. He understood how it was important, knew that welcoming the First years was a big deal, but all Phyrun could think was how he wanted to douse the entire hall in a silencing charm and walk out. Would serve them all right.
He rubbed at his face, already feeling exhausted and the day hadn't even been that long. He and his sister had shared a compartment in relative silence. He was grateful for that. No matter what people said, Rachel was just as intelligent as he was and a lot more observant than people give her credit for. A smirk pulled at his lips. He was always impressed by his little sister and the fact that she played people sent a thrill of pride through him. Whenever someone realized she was a Hufflepuff, they always reacted in a predictable way, assuming she was nothing more than a go-lucky kid with no worries and even fewer brain cells. Which, honestly, Phyrun wanted to hex each and every person that thought that. Just because Hufflepuffs were known for their loyalty and easy going didn't mean they were stupid. Heck, a single year of Hufflepuff had more brain cells than Gryffindor's entire house if people wanted to start that game.
He calmed himself down, knowing full well that wasn't fair to either house and he was going off on a tangent that really didn't need to be explored any time soon.
He ignored his housemates as they settled for the sorting. He watched as Rachel easily settled in at her table and started chatting with her friends. A soft smile graced his lips at that. She was so popular with the other students that it eased a bit of the worry in his chest. Even to this day he wished that he had been put into Hufflepuff, or she Ravenclaw, but, in the end, it worked out. She was handling her own and it was reassuring to see even summer break hadn't diminished Rachel's enjoyment of others.
A thought pulled at his lips, stealing away the soft smile. This was her second year and yet she had stayed in the same compartment as him during the ride from Kings Cross. Not once did she leave the compartment to interact with the other students, nor did anyone join them (not that he was complaining). Had she stayed put just so that he wouldn't have been alone? Or had she stayed because she knew that it was most likely the last bit of silence she would have for quite a while? She had talked highly of the house to him but he could tell that it wore her out. She was not as energetic as the rest of her house. Phyrun had gotten lucky that he had ended up in Ravenclaw. The majority of his house let him be. Well, baring a few strange souls that thought otherwise. Case in point: Oliver Pollander, the Fifth year sitting next to him.
Oliver wasn't a bad kid and, if Phyrun was being honest, a good friend. He wouldn't say best friend because, well, 1) Oliver was younger than him in more ways than just his age, and 2) the other was just not up to par with him intellectually. Oh, he was definitely a Ravenclaw but Phyrun needed someone that was near his level of intelligence, someone that he could hold a conversation with about psychology or magical theory and not find himself feeling like he was dealing with an idiot.
He did have to hand it to his dad - speaking of tangents; the Muggle community's sciences were intriguing. While he didn't care for the Muggle world itself, he did find that what the Muggles were doing was fascinating. There expansion in the exploration of the human mind and the world around them filled him with a sense of purpose that made him giddy. If he could get the rest of the Wizarding world to do something similar-
He was jolted out of his thoughts, realizing the ceremony had come to an end without him even paying attention to it. Good. The less time he was actually paying attention to the clock, the better. He got up without a word and went straight to his sister. She seemed to have been expecting him because she was already standing when he got to her. She beamed at him and grabbed his hand, seating him in her seat. He touched his wand and uttered a soft spell of his own and, for the moment, his and his sister's conversation would go unheard.
"You doing ok?" she asked, her smile falling as concern filled her expression. "You were barely reacting to the sorting."
He smiled gently, running a hand through her short, golden brown hair. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just lost in thought was all."
"Oh, good," she said, beaming. "If that's all."
He chuckled at her teasing tone, ruffling the top of her head. "Hey, that's no way to treat your older brother."
She laughed, the sound like bells to him. It caused a genuine grin to cross his face. He pulled her into a hug and her hands gripped the back of his robes tightly, her face buried against his chest.
"Can we do Saturdays again?"
The question was soft, nearly lost in the fabric at his chest. He tightened his hold on her before letting her go, offering seriously, "If you want to meet up on Saturdays like we did near the end of last year, then of course. If you ever want to add a day, just let me know." He ran a hand through her hair again. "I'll make sure we have a quiet space to be in."
He noted her entire form relaxed. Apparently she really had been not looking forward to the noise either. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing. "It'll be ok. You know they settle down after the first week."
Rachel nodded, though her expression looked a tad sad to him. He hugged her once more, assuring her, "Don't worry. You'll be fine."
"I know," was the only reply he got.
They separated and Phyrun cancelled his spell. He ruffled her hair once more before making his way back to the Ravenclaw table. Apparently the day had been a lot longer than he had first presumed.
His eyes narrowed as he instantly spotted not only Oliver in the wrong spot, but a speck of red and gold sitting across from the Fifth year next to the new Ravenclaw. Seems the rumor of a transfer from the prefects was accurate, then. Though, he could do without the speck of red and gold at the Ravenclaw table. Keith Anderson. A good looking Gryffindor that he knew better through his sister than from the fellow Sixth year himself and even then he didn't know much about the Gryffindor. Still, annoyance flared through him as he walked around, noting that Anderson was bugging the new Ravenclaw and was not ok with this.
As he approached, he heard the tail end of the discussion. “Killian Falkenhausten,” the new Ravenclaw spoke. Phyrun arched an eyebrow. Quite the name, though the accent he couldn't place. “Indeed. I am a transfer student from Ilvermorny. Now you know who I am, I suppose it’s only fair to introduce yourself.”
Ah, so that explained the accent. He came up behind Anderson with a neutral mask and placed a heavy hand on Anderson's shoulder, offering with a cordial smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I believe you are in my seat, Anderson."
A blatant lie but he knew enough about Gryffindors in general that they tended to forget this thing called personal space and it had been clear when he had been walking over that the new kid was not ok with the Gryffindor so close. He dropped the fake smile for a softer, more honest smile as he looked to Falkenhausten, offering a hand in greeting. "I do apologize for some of the manners other students seem to not be able to drop. I am Phyrun Dalca, Sixth year Ravenclaw. Welcome to Hogwarts."
[SIZE= 14px]The comforting smell of the delicious food, the warmth emanating from the floating candles, the beautifully decorated ceiling and the screaming children. The things Belladonna liked the most about the Sorting Ceremony. The beginning of a new (and, let's face it, dangerous) term in Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. During her six years as a student, Belladonna watched as her fellow classmates lost their enthusiasm for the ceremony as the years went on and they turned from young and chubby brats to smelly child models. She liked to think of herself as one of the few Slytherins who actually enjoyed the ceremony- an uncommon occurrence. While the others complained about spending another year with people they couldn't stand, the loud screams from the first years and the "you will fail" looks from the professors, Belladonna focused on the more positive aspects of the start of a new semester. Yes, she didn't like most of her classmates and the first years were quite annoying- but that didn't stop her heart beating faster every time a new student was sorted. No matter the house, the Slytherin girl always found their reactions to be incredibly interesting. The fearful looks from children who weren't sorted in the house their parent's were expecting from them, the brilliant smiles of the ones who found their new home comforting, the grins and half smiles from the young Slytherins who were prouder than anyone else despite being a member for less than an hour. It reminded her of her childhood and the joy she'd felt as soon as the hat yelled Slytherin and the students from the house of serpents clapped with glee. There was also the fact that so many students had joined the school after the battle of Hogwarts during the Second Wizarding War. She betting with her friends that no parent would be stupid enough to send their children to the school where Lord Voldemort met his end in a gruesome battle- apparently parents were much dumber and reckless than she thought. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]It was hard to imagine they were sitting in the very same place last year's battle took place. They were laughing and screaming without even mentioning they were standing in the very same place their fellow classmates and family members lost their lives in the war. The place had been repaired, yes, and the Great Hall had been restored to it's previous brilliance, but were the others so willing to let the past become nothing more than a vague memory? Headmistress Mcgonagall had mentioned the deaths of the students and asked for a moment of silence during her speech, but she hadn't heard much about the war since then. Then again, the battle had left most students with both mental and physical scars, ones that were better left alone for the time being. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]Speaking of the students, Sebastian's younger sister had just been sorted into Hufflepuff. If Belladonna knew one thing about her friend, it was how highly he thought of Slytherin and his strong hatred towards the other houses. For his sister to be a Hufflepuff, it must be a devastating thing to witness for a blood supremacist like Sebastian. She and her other friend,Val, exchanged looks and Belladonna gave him a shrug and a grimace. They both knew what was coming, one of Sebastian's famous rants and this time directed towards the Hufflepuff house. Had they been in their third year, Belladonna would've already made plans to make his sister's life miserable for disgracing her family name. Now? Well, she didn't think it was an issue. Was Slytherin still the best house? Yes, of course it was-why else would she be there? But with the war came her opportunity to change the way she thought of the other houses and blood types. She now understood how important the values each house shared were, she now knew how important Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs could be. Not a view shared with most of her Slytherin classmates, but not one that would make them revel against their queen. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]The thought of her status in the other Slytherin's eyes made her mouth turn into a proud smirk as she adjusted her green and black flower crown- a little detail she wore to let the first years know who they were dealing with. Not an actual Queen, she had no power over the teachers, prefects and heads of houses, but a Queen in the eyes of her fellow classmates. They respected her, and supported her in almost every aspect- especially Slytherins. Belladonna liked power, liked knowing she had control over others and the ability to bring down their world with mere words or a mean stare. For them to think of her as a leader was an honour. If she kept them thinking like that, becoming the Minister of Magic would be as easy as stealing candy from her friends. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]But with every monarch came people who found it too hard to follow a leader. Most likely, the entire Gryffindor table. The Gryffindors were too wild, to rebellious to be tamed by both teachers and influential classmates. The most notable group of troublemakers being the Keith,Quinn and Aivree trio-the polar opposites of the Slytherin silver trio. Quinn stuck out the most, with her vibrant bubblegum hair and so much energy you'd think she'd taken enough pepper-up potions to knock out a dragon. Then there was Keith, who was so similar to Quinn she'd actually mistaken them for siblings during their first year. Last, but certainly not least (at least for Bella) was Aivree, the brains of the operation. Together, they wrecked havoc all around the castle, making students and teachers alike fear for their well-being and prey the trio wouldn't use them for their next prank. To say they'd fought against Belladonna's group would be a misunderstanding. With Sebastian and Belladonna being fanatic pureblood supremacists, it was no wonder they clashed so much. Duels, pranks and visits to the infirmary, the two groups had been through it all. But their relationship had slightly improved after Belladonna was disowned from the Coben family. Now all they had to worry about was keeping Sebastian away from murdering them with his bare hands. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]Along the students who found themselves in the "keep away from Sebastian" were the Hufflepuffs Mila and Penelope. Mila, being the most gorgeous human being Bella had ever set her eyes upon (without counting Val, Seb and herself) was a victim of Sebastian's restless teasing despite being Val's close friend. Bella remembered there was a time when she couldn't stand the sight of the girl- she was a half breed with veela beauty, Belladonna was obviously jealous of her looks. Fortunately, times changed and she was able to get close to the girl without wanting to imitate the Queen from Snow White and kill her because of her looks. She saw her as a possible ally, maybe even a friend if she played her cards right. One of the benefits that would come out of befriending the girl would be getting closer to Penelope, the girl she'd set her eyes upon. She'd been supportive of Bella after she'd been disowned from her family, and she'd developed a crush on the girl ever since. Quite the obvious crush, to be precise, since Bella wouldn't stop complimenting the girl and trying to flirt every time they met. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]What stopped her from staring at Penelope for the rest of the evening was the commotion coming from the Ravenclaw house, where everyone was now getting to know the new transfer student. She'd seen the guy get sorted, but had lost most of her interest when the hat yelled Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin. She spotted Keith speaking to the male, along with her good friend Oliver and Phyrun. The two Ravenclaws whom she valued for their intelligence, but didn't pay much attention to unless she needed a partner for a class or some advice from Oliver. When she spotted her friend, she gave him a friendly smile and a small wave before turning her attention to the snake in the room. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]Hailey. The muggle born who'd gotten into Slytherin. How could she forget her favourite victim? She and the hideous toad had been fighting ever since she disgraced the Slytherin house with her mere presence. If she had to chose between Voldemort himself or Hailey to burn alive, Voldemort would be free in less than a second. She'd made sure to make the girl's life impossible, which had been easier before she knew how to defend herself. Now, it was more of a challenge but still amusing nonetheless. If looks could kill, Hailey would've been slain the moment she walked through that door. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]If there was anyone who could stop her from murdering Hailey, it was Val. Her childhood friend and most trusted brother from the silver trio. It was Val who shared the same beliefs, the one who volunteered to watch over her every time she turned into the hideous werewolf, the one who'd been hexed by her a trillion times, the one who she would risk her life for. Seeing her friends was perhaps the best thing that came with the new year, and she wouldn't trade anything for those delightful moments with her favourite problematic idiots. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]Now sitting next to Valerious and in front of Sebastian, Belladonna quietly poked her food with her silver fork as Seb watched his sister with hawk eyes. The food smelled delicious, and she probably usually wouldn't pass out on a good steak- but she was more than full with the "healthy" dinner she'd had last night. Two full grown adults were enough to fill anyone's stomach. Besides, after topping the dinner with her parents with ice cream and sweets on the Hogwarts Express, she didn't think she would be able to eat anything for days. This, of course, left her without the chance to fill her mouth with food and avoid Seb's question regarding his sister. So, with a defeated sigh, Bella decided to reply. [/SIZE][SIZE= 14px]"Well, Seb. It might look bad now, but I'm certain your sister can still be saved," [/SIZE][SIZE= 14px]she reassured him, faking a smile before lowering her voice and moving closer to Seb. [/SIZE][SIZE= 14px]"Your sister is still young. Give her enough time and convincing and we'll get those Slytherin values into her little brain. Just think of it, the loyalty and trustworthiness of a Hufflepuff mixed with the cunning nature of us Slytherins. It can't be hard, right Val?" [/SIZE][SIZE= 14px]Belladonna asked, turning to her friend and silently hoping he could get them out of one of Seb's rants. [/SIZE]
[COLOR= rgb(47, 79, 79)][SIZE= 24px]Aivree Lanzone[/COLOR]
Gryffindor///6th Year//Great Hall @7pm[/SIZE]
It was loud.
Of course it was, the Sorting was always obnoxiously loud. It was decorated with the familiar floating candles up near the ceilings, smells of the food drifted in every which way. If it hadn’t, things would be the same. Course nothing was the same. But the thought of why it wasn’t made a knot in Aivree’s stomach; one that she pushed deep down and never cared to think about. Instead, the loud world of the Sorting was almost a pleasant comfort.
Aivree should have expected the Great Hall to booming with the new students getting into their new house, the excitement of starting a new chapter in this large castle that was a school. Sitting at her table leaning slightly on the tabletop with her head resting in her hand she watched with a bored expression. She cheered when a new student arrived in her House, because that was what you did when you where a Gryffindor, and only boo-ed on the inside at the Slytherins. Course, in honesty she didn’t care about them.
If she was honest there were only a few Slytherins that she would like to really punch in the face hard enough to send them flying into the Whomping Willow where it would do the dirty work to the corpse. The thought caused her to laugh but that thought was the second best she had thought of all day.
Sebastian-ass-going-to-be blue-in-the-face-Blutmond’s sister had been sorted into none other than Hufflepuff. It made her giddy to the tips of her toes and nothing about the night could make it even better. Not the pudding, not the new students that she could bug—nothing. He was going to be raving mad and she was delighted in such pitiful anger.
And she didn’t even have to initiate it at all, it was starting to be a good year already.
“Aren’t you not supposed to have pets in the Great Hall.” Someone spoke up beside her earning a frown as she turned to face them. Peeking out of her robe hood was a relatively happy Sphinx kitty. If you listened closely you could hear him purring and minding his own business. The new kid apparently didn’t get that she wasn’t giving a little rats ass about them. Fluff had every bit of a right to be in the hall enjoying the meal as anyone else.
Had to be nice nonetheless, right?
“Fluff doesn’t count. He doesn’t have hair to leave on the food and being left in the castle makes him mad. Besides,” she took a lick a sip of her beverage before giving a coy smirk to the smaller child. “Unless you get caught nothing's wrong so, be a dear and keep this to yourself.” She gave a wink but her tone was daring him to do it. If he did she would make his life a little more miserable. With a nervous laugh the child turned back to what he was doing, probably whispering to his neighbor about the scary short haired chick sitting close to him, leaving Aivree to proceed back to her glorified giddiness of Sebastian’s anger. Though she could see Bella and Val trying to calm the storm that was Sebastian; would probably be a lost cause but they seemed to be talking nonetheless. She only heard a few of the words and grew bored after a moment, leaving to go looking for a few other familiar faces.
Aivree looked for her other friends but realized they probably where off mingling; she knew for a fact that was where Keith was. She had already seen him finding one of the new students. Introducing herself to people wasn’t the game she liked to play instead she would sit, mock people silently from her own little spot. Looking through the crowd she saw a few others she knew, most not well but could normally put a face to the name that mingled around in her busy head.
Surprisingly, Quinn had yet to arrive to show off her bubble-gum colour hair yet. Course, which might have been normal if she thought about it right but still, food? She wouldn’t want to pass up such a feast.
Speaking of the pink haired devil, the moment Aivree stood up to stretch, her friend appeared to grope her in a normal embrace causing Fluff to meow in an irritated fashion , digging his claws into her back. “Fuck, you're squishing Fluff!” Aivree cried backing off before taking a quick look to her cat who glared back but still seemed content to curl in the back of her hood. Sighing she turned her attention back to Quinn unable to resist laughing at the girls words.
“Already? We have been here less than a few hours. That has to be a new record.” Aivree crossed her arms over her chest taking another gander at the kids in the area, mulling over the information she had heard.
“Eh not really. Just the normal faces. New kid here though. Got sorted into Ravenclaw. Seems to have a stick up his butt but overall has a cute face…I suppose anyways.” She coughed looking towards the boy. “Keith's already introducing himself so we will be aware and have all the details within the hour I am sure. I haven’t seen Hailey yet though...Probably around here somewhere though.” Aivree went on her tiptoes trying to get a better look.
Fuck being short, she needed some platform boots or something amongst these giants.
◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ KEITH ◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ ANDERSON ◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ THE TROUBLEMAKER // GRYFFINDOR
mood: INTRIQUED | LOCATION: GREAT HALL | TIME: 7:45 PM
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Out of the five years Keith had spent in Hogwarts, he has made over two thousand five hundred and seventy-six introductions and pretty much heard just about every introduction variant that could exist. Killian's was by far no different than the rest of the "I don't really want to talk to you but I will be polite" people he's met. His terse reply was lost to him and whether it was intentional, Keith decided to take the word 'pleasure' at full-face value.
He beamed and rested a hand underneath his cheek as he tucked the name into memory. Unlike a certain pureblood Slytherin supremacist, Keith had no trouble recalling names to faces; although his only flaw is that he almost never used one's full name. Nicknames were given upon meeting whether the receiver liked it or not. It helped the male to distinguish whether he had spoken to them.
"Man, what a mouthful. Can I call you Killi for short?" Not that there was any point asking. He sliced up a piece of the roast beef and popped it in his mouth, chewing as Oliver joined the two. The last name alone was enough to confirm Killian's possible ethnicity; the faintest hint of a German accent had mostly given the Ravenclaw away.
"Nice of you to join us too, aglio no olio," Keith grinned, speaking only after he swallowed. The given nickname was a nostalgic reminder of how the two met. Just four years ago, in this same very hall, Keith had 'accidentally' charmed a generous helping of spaghetti to land like a crown on Oliver's head. It was a rocky start to a friendship but a friendship nonetheless. Despite the incident being an embarrassment to Keith's own skills, it was Oliver who had took the full blunt of shame. First impressions had quite the impact and Keith was pretty sure he had ruined Oliver's. Up until now, Keith never let the Ravenclaw live it down and the nickname had now grown into an inside joke between the witnesses.
"I'm trying," Keith answered, pointing at the people behind him with his thumb. The tables were crowded but Keith's reply was an obvious lie. He could scoot over more if he wanted to but given the fact that he was 'far away enough' by his standards, the Gryffindor chose to oppose. "And wow, Ilvermorny huh? So you're from the Great States then. How do you find it?" he casually asked, despite coming off as an American himself. His accent stood out from the other English speakers but if he tried, Keith could pull off a convincing English accent as well. Truth be told, it was hard to tell which accent was fake and which was real but in his later years in Hogwarts, Keith had stuck to using the less fancier accent more.
The conversation was going fine and Keith found himself comfortable despite most finding small talk insufferable. He ate as Oliver and Killian talked but was slightly startled when a hand was placed suddenly upon his shoulder. Surprised as he may have been, the male had controlled his reactions enough not to flinch. He turned around, grinning in faux foolishness at Phyrun's statement.
"Oh sorry, I didn't see your name on it. Hold up, let me check." Seats in both the Dining Hall and the Great Hall were never assigned but groups had their own way of 'claiming' certain seats without any verbal expression. Keith's response was tongue-in-cheek despite the happy, light-hearted tone. For added cheekiness, the male leaned over on the bench to check for the nonexistent engravings of the name 'Phyrun'. "Nope. Sorry. No Phyr (pronounced fire) Dalca on the list. Maybe you forgot to make a reservation...?" He was smirking this time and the fact that he was handsome did not help make it any more pleasant.
Clearly, Phyrun was unamused. There was a short pause shared between the two before Keith sighed in exasperation, "Okay fine, I'll scoot," he relented, asking the females behind him if they could move over - something he should have done and could have done earlier. With the nameless female npcs shifted over, there was enough space for Phyrun to sit between the Gryffindor male and the new transfer student.
"So, how was everyone's term break?" he asked, also posing the question to Killian. "Bet it was boring without me."
The echoing laughter of giddy first years drowned out the crowded Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even the roaring and cheering of the elder-years did little to overshadow the pure excitement emanating from every little body here. Truthfully, it was nothing short of endearing. How the children fawned over every little sight with wide-eyes and bright grins, their pure innocence drowning the Hall in an overpowering aura of youth; their short-attention spans captured by the many socialite Ghosts and enchanted candles, more still were invested in stuffing their pretty little faces with an assortment of wonderous meals, all provided at a masterful quality, courtesy of magic. Oh how Hailey had hated these days. The crowd made her both warm inside, yet envious, too, she wore no bright smile in her grand induction into the School not 5 years back. The Sorting Hat - in its infinite wisdom - had condemned her to an early life of misery at the hands of Snakes, who were more ruthless and cunning than she. Because Hailey was neither cunning, nor ruthless; a grave mistake in Slytherin House, because everybody had an agenda - everybody was out for themselves - at least that's what Hailey's experience was, and she held to that.
Thus, the question remained: Why was I sorted into Slytherin? It was a question she asked herself every year at this same, accursed feast. It wasn't her guile; she was as naive as a child in a candy shop, that much was unfortunately certain. It wasn't her ruthless-nature; because she simply didn't have a ruthless-nature, right? She was perhaps even kinder than some Hufflepuffs. So why? Ultimately, every year, this question was answered in the same (perhaps irresponsible) way. The Sorting Hat simply must have made a mistake. Hailey was very ambitious, yes. Was she smart and dedicated? Absolutely! Were they enough to put her into Slytherin? No. In her mind, it was that simple. However looking back, she couldn't help but wonder on the outcome if she had requested a different House, at the time she was much too timid to make a request out of a Sentient hat with more authority than a Death Eater horde... Which brought her back to the now, as opposed to the then. The present was, as expected, loud, boisterous and absolutely oppressive. The entire atmosphere engulfing the Hall gave her no amount of discomfort, she hated large Social Events like these - they were mostly composed of immature boasting contests and petty rivalries - the only good that came from the gatherings was the food, and the joyous First Years and their sweet beaming smiles.
Hailey herself, was simultaneously sticking out like a sore thumb and blending into the walls like a shadow. She sat at the far end of a Fouth Year table, one packed with the vibrant colours of all the Houses, it was the most mixed collection of individuals in the room, which made it a good refuge until the Feast was over. She sat leaning with her back arched against the chair, her arms defensively folded over her chest with a look that screamed 'Don't bother me, please.' It wasn't a menacing look, but it was a disinterested one. Unfortunately, Gryffindors apparently don't care about personal space, a running theme in the House at this point. "Hey, why are you wearing gloves?" A nosy boy inquired, the red tie hugging his chest with a small dot of cheese embedded into it. Hailey's stance remained the same, yet she afforded him a shrug of her shoulders. "It can get cold." She answered him ambivalently, not really wanting a conversation, yet also not having the heart to outright tell him as much. Luckily, her response was answer enough; the boy returned a shrug of his own and went back to conversing with the other happy inhabitants of the multi-housed longtable...
...Which is why it was a rather ironic, smirk-worthy surprise - for Hailey to catch sight of Keith not a few moments after being bothered by a Gryffindor - bugging what had to be the new transfer student. If moments ago was anything to go by, the new guy was quite attractive not impressed. Already he seemed to have a following of worshippers flocking around him like moths to a flame. There was the rather intellectual, if a little ott, Oliver. The remarkebly handsome Phyrun... Em, yes... But of course, most of all, there was her close friend Keith. Her and the Gryffindor top-dog as friends was perhaps the strangest, most peculiar match up, ever. They had very little in common, they were in totally opposite Houses, Keith was a social-butterfly with a high standing in the popularity Hierarchy, whilst Hailey was a recluse who was barely known at all, and of the few who knew her, a good portion were her sworn enemies. How she ever fell in with Keith and his bubblegum beauty, Quinn, was a mystery to even Hailey. It just... happened. He bugged her, she ignored him, he bugged her more, she ignored him less, and after enough sessions of Keith-proddery she finally relented and removed the emotional armour, just a tad. Ever since, the two have been akin to brother and sister, she was grateful to finally have an ally and friend. One which introduced her to the enigmatic Quinn; who was best described as a condensed ball of giddy energy, bouncing around with enough charisma and self-assurance to put most politicians to shame. And of course, the similarly reclusive Aivree. Hailey hadn't really had much opportunity to interact with the other Gryffindor, their anti-social tendencies seeing to that.
It was a strange story, a Slytherin being apart of the Gryffindor top team. But it wasn't the only strange part of Hailey's small-friendship circle, in Hufflepuff, she was beginning to find a friend in the adorable-yet-talkative Penelope, she was incredibly sweet and recently took to prodding Hailey over the Muggle world in a similar manner to Keith's previous unrelenting social attempts. Only Penelope was just... so likable, Hailey immediately found herself attracted to both her looks, and her lovely personality. Whilst they weren't officially friends yet due to Hailey's raised guard; she knew it was happening, she wanted it to happen. Penelope and her just had a natural chemistry that couldn't be fought. Additionally, in Ravenclaw, she found an ally in the stunning Phyrun... Who was, literally stunning... They'd worked together on a few occasions with class projects and studies, although his supposed Genius was definitely intimidating, he was kind enough to overlook her lower age, different House, and unfortunately lower intelligence. Hailey considered herself to be a very smart student, but Phyrun was on a whole other level of 'smart', a level she couldn't begin to comprehend. Despite that, he still helped her often enough when she needed it... Which wasn't too often, but when she did need help, well, she didn't really need help...
The greatest part was, of course, her absolute lack of friends anywhere in her own House. In-fact, the people she hated most lingered amongst the Snakes; their slimy bodies just laying in wait, with venomous bites reserved for Hailey. Obviously, she was referencing the Pureblood Supremacists that plaqued the Slytherin House, but more specifically? The 'Silver Trio' A.K.A. The Queens of Slytherin. It was a vain, self-procclaimed title. Headed by two of the most revolting human beings to ever spawn onto this good Earth. Sebastian Blutmond - or Buttmond - was the loudest, vainest, and most pathetic of the three. Rotten to the core, and possessed by little-to-no wits, he was little more than a perverted, daddy's boy with an assortment of mental health issues. He was the most zealous Pureblood Fanatic in the school. Essentially a future Death Eater, that much was clear. Then there was Valerius, Hailey didn't know much of Val. Supposedly, he is the most popular boy in House Slytherin, but unlike his puke-worthy counterparts, actually seemed to be a semi-decent-if-questionable human being; the fact that he hadn't bothered her was good enough, so she paid no mind to the Slytherin King.
That left the biggest bitch Hogwarts had ever known, Belladonna - who had glared at Hailey not more than a few seconds before this thought - the glare made one thing very clear, the supposed Queen of Slytherin looked more like a Drag Queen trying too hard, than any sort of Queen that actually resembled royalty. That flower crown was nothing short of pitiful. Of course, Hailey would never dare say these things to the Silver Trio's faces, but in the solitude of her mind she could spout the truth all she wanted. Belladonna had been her main antagonist for 5 years now, relentless bullying and evil torments left a considerable bridge of hate between the two. One of these days, Hailey would ruin her. That was a personal vendetta that not even Hailey's kind-heart could defeat.
"Hey, are you okay?" The earlier Gryffindor questioned curiously, Hailey snapped back to reality and shot the boy a puzzled look. "You looked like you were getting angry." He shrugged nonchalantly, before promplty giving her the cold-shoulder which she didn't mind at all. With her daydream of tearing Queen Bitch in two over, Hailey opted to interact with the only familiar faces she could see that weren't completely swallowed by other humans: Quinn and Aivree. With a deep sigh, she half-heartedly pushed away from her table and began to stroll to the great mass of pink - using the vibrant hair as a homing beacon in the sea of student bodies - until she finally got close enough to interact with the Gryffindor duo. Even though of the three, Aivree was perhaps even more of a loner than Hailey, it was the latter who made a point to complain this time. "I hate events like these..." Hailey grumbled with an exasperated sigh, shoving her hands into her pockets and looking down in an attempt to will the headache-inducing sounds of teenage hormones away. Perhaps a simple Hello or Hey would have worked better, but Hailey hated the Sorting Feast; and it was definitely showing.
"Belladonna Coben, my dear," Sebastian flashed her a smile that was none too kind, his tone way too bitter than intended. "How thankful am I to have such a fantastic friend as you are. Remind me to recite you one of my infamous rhapsodies regarding your goodness and pureness of heart." Then he turned to Val with a look equal as the one he gave the girl. "Perhaps you can conjure up something more pleasant. Surely that big fluff of a hair contains a brain somewhere beneath it. Like, I don't know. Pandora may become the next Voldemort?" Sebastian rolled his eyes. Alright, that was probably way too cruel. Perhaps he didn't mean that, but what can he do. His moods has swung for the worse that night, and it would most likely stay that way until the sun rises up the next day. Surely, it wasn't as if he was saying that they deserved such a treatment. No. Actually he doesn't care. Bella had been his friend since what may seem like eternity, Val even longer in that sense. By this time, he was sure that the two was used to his razor sharp tongue, as well as the majorly concentrated sarcasm dripping on every syllable he utters, even as he merely announced here! on class attendances. They would probably return him another roll of the eyes, a witty remark occasionally. This was the point in friendship that he wouldn't even bother to apologize to his mannerism (heck, he never even bothered to with anyone else at all).
Funny to remember, however, how he came to know the two. How everything began. Seeing his younger self in a memory third-point-of-view, Sebastian found himself almost cringing at how different they were, almost like two different people. The memory was still vivid in his brain. The glistening of chandelier shards, the swishing of women's velvet laces upon the immaculate floor, so clean they almost served as a mirror. A hand appearing out of nowhere, extended in front of him along with that wide, bright of a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. Though surely the situation would become way more romantic if the boy's next sentence hadn't been an insult for young Sebastian's funny accent. Nevertheless, that was the beginning of a friendship as he soon was introduced to the beautiful platinum haired girl, who he can proudly say as the cleverest girl he had ever known. Ever since, they have been inseparable. Not even the gods above could severe their bonds. ((*cringes at the soon to be break up*))
Sebastian didn't linger long for Val's response, knowing that no matter what they would say, nothing could lift up his mood for the day (except for some few things perhaps, like the expulsion of that forsaken three idiots from Gryffindor. Or Keith getting dragon pox). Even, if Val did answer, Sebastian wasn't focused enough to listen fully. Instead, he decided to distract his eyes by scanning through the vast expanse of students, different colored heads and robes protruding here and there all over the hall. Some were nonchalantly visiting other house's table, like that one red speck amdist the blues. A black haired that seemed familiar in the back of his brain, who he recalled as Phillip or something, and a blondie called John or Jack or some sort. Maybe Bob. And then he took notice that that one annoyingly red stain was Keith fucking Anderson himself, casually invading everyone's privacy as though he believes that he smelled like daises and lollipops. One down, two to go. The guy is a literal parasite, a leech. A pest. And guess who he was ever so nonchalantly pest-ing off? Of course. Mr. Flat-Face. First moment's notice, before anyone even so much as touched their food, that little hairball managed to slip himself between a pack of seriously-wanting-to-mind-their-own-business Ravenclaws. It's as though his feet were loaded in springs or something. God bless that new boy. He would need way more than an earplug to block Keith out. Sebastian made a mental note to perhaps approach him, make sure he wasn't friends with the wrong sort. Later, perchance. He didn't particularly feel like tempting himself to commit suicide by jumping in the lake, where there would be a giant squid and ducks, so Sebastian would very much prefer avoiding any interaction with the male, even being a meter radius around him.
Then that reminded him of something. He switched his attention back to his friends, specifically towards Bella. "Speaking of which..." he began in a mutter. Sebastian leaned forward simply in the effort to repeatedly poke the gigantic pale pudding in the middle of the table with his fork, staring at it as though it became the most interesting thing in the whole magic world and it would soon sprout out wings. Not that that's a weird thing, of course. "Have you seen that sweet little mudblood princess of yours?" He couldn't help but coughed out a tiny laugh to follow it. "I hope she couldn't make it for her...what was it? Forth year? Fifth? Muggles and their problems. Gotta pump out the toilet with their own hands or something, perhaps. Not like they could get any filthier, if you ask me."
The mildly-scowling Ravenclaw directly opposite him remained silent, and Killian inwardly wondered what those eyes were seeing and what the final verdict would be. For it seemed he was already disapproved of, if the light glower was anything to go by. Not that Killian allowed it to bother him. If he hadn’t learned to brush off hard looks before his second year back in the States, he would have developed into an insecure, stuttering mess of a teen. That was something an aspiring healer cannot afford to be – even an ominously controversial one like himself, as he was oft dubbed. Surely he couldn’t be all that interesting to garner such long stares, if one took his outward appearance into account. He was pretty sure all this attention he currently received was only a one-off occurrence, and come tomorrow morning, these people would each return to their little niches while he faded into the mass of students. Just another face in the crowd.
Killian blinked, back-tracking slightly as he rectified his judgment a little. So far, the only one he allowed himself to form a first impression of was Keith. The Gryffindor was your typical gadabout, someone who was personally gregarious and aimed to interact with anyone new – even if it was only for a few short hours. Despite Killian’s subtle indications that he didn’t wish to continue talking, Keith made no move to leave, even if he made the fair assumption that the youth could read body language well enough to pick up on it. He contemplated occupying his mouth with food as an excuse not to communicate further, but he wasn’t all that hungry. A distraction came in the form of another student whose even tone broke the ensuing silence. Another of his new House, that much was easily deduced even if a verbal introduction wasn’t given. The good-natured smile on his face looked a little off when he addressed Keith, but Killian refrained from commenting, accepting the offered hand with an acknowledging nod and an upwards quirk of his lips. Interestingly enough, getting a good read on the older Ravenclaw at first glance proved to be an arduous task. Besides the warmth in his gaze, there was nothing else.
“There is naught to apologise for, Dalca. Unless, of course, you are the representative of the entire student body. Nonetheless, I thank you for the convivial welcome. The experience thus far has been…riveting.” Killian replied lightly as he withdrew his hand for the second time this hour. “As a fifth year transfer, I’ll be in your care.”
The fact that Dalca was a year his senior made Killian mentally note him down as a potential acquaintance and someone he could go to during his period of adjustment in this new environment. He held no illusions that he wouldn’t get lost within this immense castle masquerading as a school and there were no available maps at hand. If he were to make it to classes on time, he needed a guide. And who better than a fellow Raven, sixth year or not. He could charm a piece of parchment to map the castle’s layout as he walked along, he supposed, but that would take a little too much time. Time he probably would not have until he could assimilate to the classes and homework load.
Returning his attention to the Gryffindor, his eyes narrowed a little. ‘Killi’ indeed. He was about to deny Keith permission on the basis that they were not friends but merely thirty-minute-acquaintances, but the guy had switched his grasshopper-like attentiveness onto another topic, leaving him no chance to refute. It didn’t matter in the long run, for he doubted they would be interacting frequently after.
He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug, eventually giving in and sampling a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “How did I find it? Inconsequential. A castle surrounded by pine forest. The campus grounds are a sight to behold, undoubtedly, but it’s nothing so far-fetched from this place. The classes? Standard wand-wavings and theories. Nothing you don’t do here. The Houses and values of each are also dissimilar to Hogwarts. Overall, it’s just a school.”
It wasn’t as though he didn’t think of Ilvermorny as a second home away from home, but it was the people within who made him feel that way and not the castle itself. The school, the dormitory. They were both just a place to stay during the course of his seven-year education. His friends there, on the other hand, were more important. However, he wasn’t about to spill everything to a complete stranger, fellow Hogwarts student or not. Those were for him to know and for the other to remain clueless about. Killian spooned another mouthful of food, tugging at the hem of his left robe sleeve down as it rode up to expose the Pukwudgie crest. Such action could have been viewed as being ashamed of his former House when in fact, it was quite the opposite. He simply didn’t want any more questions directed his way tonight, if he could help it.
“Seeing as I have known you for a grand total of forty-five minutes, I’ll have to refute that observation.” Killian set his spoon down and dabbed his mouth with a clean napkin, fixing Keith with a bland look. “I spent the holidays relocating, if you truly must know, Mr…” He trailed off meaningfully. Friendly guy or not, Killian didn’t like calling anyone other than affirmed friends by their first names.
The Sorting was usually something that excited Mila, but that evening she wasn't hanging onto McGonagall's every word; her thoughts were wrapped up in other issues, memories that kept resurfacing every time she saw a familiar face, smelled a certain food, anything. She was sat beside Penelope, whom she was eternally grateful for: before the death, Mila would have sat with Christopher (possibly Penelope too), yet now that he was gone she had been lost. Penelope's presence alleviated her sadness somewhat and she sat up a little straighter, flashing a pair of first-years a sweet smile when she noticed that they were looking her way-- naturally the pair instantly flushed when they realised she had noticed their curiosity and looked away.
There was a new kid, Mila had noticed that pretty swiftly. Her keen eyes had been drawn to a boy sat beside Keith, a boy whom she didn't recognise. He was much too old to be a first-year so the logical conclusion that she had drawn was that he was a transfer student; interesting to say the least, she certainly wanted to speak to him. Another person that she had noticed was Quinn, who had somehow managed to be late for the dinner and had arrived with her trademark pink hair slightly windswept, no doubt from practically flying through the school's many corridors. Hogwarts was a beautiful building but with its ever changing staircases, winding corridors and vast expanse, it was a hellish maze if you needed to get somewhere urgently in a hurry.
When the all too familiar surname, 'Blutmond', was called, Mila finally returned her attention to the sorting. The little girl perched atop the stool had a freckled face, a sweet little thing really, and Mila was taken completely by surprise when suddenly the first-year was heading right for the Hufflepuff table. Of course she sent the girl a warm grin to welcome her, but not before casting her glance over to the Slytherin table to see if she could spot Sebastian; he wasn't fond of Hufflepuff, that was clear, so how would he react to seeing his own sister join the house? His face stuck out to her, it always did, and before her stomach could be tied into anymore knots she tore her gaze away. No. No, she'd promised herself that there would be no more pining for a person who barely acknowledged her unless he was joking. He might have been Val's friend but that didn't seem to help the two of them build any sort of connection.
Her spirits lifted somewhat when she spotted Val. There he was, dark eyes glittering in the candlelight; he was very pretty, she supposed. Could a boy be pretty? Yes, she thought so. Handsome, maybe. Still, he would never be a candidate for romance with Mila, oh no-- they were too close for that. Siblings without the relation, even, or at least that's what she liked to think. Belladonna was there too, with that beautiful hair that Mila had always secretly admired. In their first year she had even envied the girl's appearance; hell, Mila might have been half-Veela, but that didn't mean she didn't sometimes wish she could change things about herself. Namely remove the Veela blood.
As as soon as the food appeared Mila poured herself a drink. It was a little ritual of hers, she never ate the main course directly after the sorting but she usually helped herself to plenty of desserts. Perhaps she had a sweet tooth? No, she certainly had one, no question about it.
"Tell me, Pene: how was your summer?" The blonde asked, turning her attention to her friend. Pene was pretty as well, now that Mila thought about it (and not for the first time). Pretty and nice enough to have made Mila question her own attractions, even. Not that she'd ever mention that to her, no, it was in the past and she feared that saying such a thing would cause awkwardness between them. Penelope was one of the few people Mila felt truly comfortable with, most just knew her as that Hufflepuff with the nice face or not at all, and there was no way she was going to let the friendship slip between her fingers. How did you even bring up something like that, anyway?
Truly, the only way Mila could see herself ever admitting how she had felt about Pene or how she did feel (possibly) about Sebastian to either of them themselves was if she was drunk. She knew from experience that she didn't take her alcohol well and often avoided it which was comforting in a way, because she was safe in the knowledge that she'd never talk about it. Maybe she'd mention Seb to Pene or Val. Probably not. No point if she was going to push the attraction away, right? Because she was. Definitely. Even if it was hard.
Six years Valerius had sat, an arm slung airily over the back of his chair, the other hovering above the table; fingers drumming a relentless five-eight beat against its worn surface as he allowed his eyes to roam. The scenery pled no change from the ceremonies of the past: the Great Hall awash with colours, the cacophony of indiscriminate voices discordant against the metallic scrape of cutlery against crockery. The ringing of glass upon glass. He used to love it—the pomp and grandeur of it all. Now the laughter rang clamourous in his ears, mirthless and empty as the plate set in front of him.
( He had always been finicky with his diet, even as a child, but today's abstinence was born not out of disrespect for the school house elves' cooking, but due to the simple fact that he was in A Mood™ and as such cared little for the prospect of stuffing his face. )
His gaze flickered idly from face to face, allowing the nameless to remain so and pausing only to linger at familiar sights. Unsurprisingly, it's Mila who catches the bulk of his attention. Surrounded by a sea of black and gold, the half-Veela stood out like firelight, snatching the colour from her surroundings with the brilliance of her smile. He noted with approval the presence of Penelope by her side. Though they shared no more than a handful of oft-fleeting conversation, he had always considered the brunette as something akin to a friend—even despite the numerous eccentricities that Sebastian had always been fond of pointing out from time to time.
Which brings him to the Hufflepuff table's newest addition, Pandora Blutmond. Only eleven years old and already plagued by the burden of carrying her family's last name.
He almost felt sorry for her. Almost. What with her having Sebastian of all people for a brother. But then he realised rather quickly that he would be the one unfortunate enough to have to endure the inevitable bitching that would surely follow, and the sympathy swiftly disappeared. Instead, it was replaced by a fledgling pang of irritation. One that only grew the moment Sebastian decided to open his mouth. Briefly, Val considered a silencing charm, but ultimately dismissed the thought knowing that it would only spark a battle he was hardly in the mood to fight. He settled, instead, on simply tuning him out—a talent formed by nearly ten years of the male's relentless and often insipid chatter. Their relationship was a close one, yes—Val could only count in one hand the number of people he thought of as family, and Sebastian fit readily into that category—but even Val couldn't deny the annoyance brought about by Sebastian's constant 'rants'.
"And here I thought you were capable of reining in your own sister." Val drawled, following Belladonna's response. "Apparently not." Dealing with an irate Sebastian marked the least of Val's intentions for the night, and he would've been fine with keeping his mouth shut had Bella not prompted him to speak. "It's to do with upbringing, see. A failure on your part, obviously." He flicked his eyes towards the other male and noted with a touch of amusement the vaguely constipated look he sported. Normally, Sebastian painted a handsome figure—refined and elegant, nobility coded in the broadness of his shoulders, the loftiness of his stance—but now, with his face contorted and red with indignation, Val was reminded of the little boy he met years and years ago and he felt a sudden (yet all too brief) surge of affection for him, even as his words served to chastise and deride the male even further. "Cassian would never end up in this position. Not on my watch."
He was fully intending to resume his people-watching afterwards, but then Sebastian just had to lean forward, inquiring of all things about the Muggleborn, Hailey (whose last name he had more or less forgotten at that point, insignificant as it was). Frankly, she hardly registered on his radar—classed instead among the rest of the Slytherins he considered unworthy of his time. However, for some unknown reason, the poor girl had managed to attract not only Bella's ire, but Sebastian's as well, with both of them treating her as their own personal chew toy more than anything else.
"Please," Val scoffed, rolling his eyes. "If you're going to humiliate the poor girl, at least do so where the professors can't see and therefore can't deduct points. Merlin knows you're incapable of earning them back." The jab was, of course, directed rather pointedly at Sebastian. "I don't want Slytherin to start the year in the negatives. Again."
To an outsider, it might come across as nasty, perhaps even cruel, this wanton exchange of barbs. But for the three of them, it proved no more than child's play. Such was the nature of the friendship they shared, laid bare. Vicious, unrestrained, bordering on violent. And really, Val wouldn't have it any other way.
• • • He added the name, Killian Faulkenhausten to his mental database - a transfer student from a school with a widely known reputation for being highly democratic; not that Ilvermorny's reputation was a bad one, (how could their reputation be any more jagged than Hogwarts current one, especially after the previous traumatic events from last year?) but it was still worth reminding himself that Killian's previous school was known for being one of the least elitist; which could mean that Killian wouldn't be as biased or judgemental of the other houses, as most of the current Hogwarts students were. Ilvermorny wasn't as 'competitive', and were supposedly more focused on making sure everyone equally valued each others differences rather than using that as a basis for a year long competition, like Hogwarts did... Or at least, that was what Oliver had picked up on. (Obviously, Hogwarts was still by far a better school, with a richer history and stronger school-spirit; but he had to admit that Ilvermorny wasn't that much lesser of a school.)
"Oliver Pollander, fifth year." he stated, giving Killian an acknowledging nod rather than offering a hand-shake. Hand-shakes were considered more polite, sure, but Oliver felt them to be slightly awkward in a casual setting. "Your accent sounds German, or something; I didn't think students from Ilvermorny would typically have an accent like that." Killian's speech pattern was another thing he took quick notice of, since it was so similar to the structured and advanced way Phyrun usually spoke; which was interesting, considering not even the majority of Ravenclaw students, or even himself, spoke so formally.
Oliver's train of thought shifted, when the use of his (unfortunate) nickname, 'aglio-no-olio' came to his ear. He instinctively gave Keith the usual minuscule glare. "I see you're still stuck on the 'pet-name' thing, Keith... The new school year hasn't officially begun, just so you're aware - there's still a good hour for you to drop old habits and pick up new ones." he commented, but even he knew that he wasn't hinting at him with any seriousness.
In fact, everyone knew nick-names were pretty much Keith's trade-mark thing. Oliver used to get into little meaningless bickers with him over it in previous years - (like why did Keith give everyone else nick-names that were endearing and edgy, like 'Pinkie' and 'Tiny-Thunder-Fist', but yet give him such a un-cool one based off an incident that, when reminded of it, he still got slight second-hand embarrassment over?) He would argue that Keith was the one who should've walked away from the incident with an embarrassing nick-name, since it had been his fault in the first place; but Oliver was never good at giving people pet names, and even if he had given Keith an embarrassing nick-name, it probably wouldn't have been a creative one anyways.
But at least by now, he was well aware that once Keith settled on a nick-name for you, that was your nick-name probably forever; so it was pretty much pointless scolding him or calling him out for it anymore. Oliver didn't want to admit that he was 'used' to it, but basically - he was indeed pretty much used to it.
He sectioned the food on his plate using his fork, so that the carrots, the boiled potatoes, and the roasted chicken were at least a good couple of centimeters away from each other. He plopped a few carrot slices in his mouth, but as he did so, he couldn't help but toss glances at the plates of a few students down the table - It shouldn't have bothered him, he knew that, but just seeing people un-caringly throw their food wherever on their plates, and mix the different foods together, and spill small drops of gravy or juice onto the table; it just made his brain twitch with a small yet familiar urge to clean... But it's not like that was anything new.
Phyrun had eventually come over to join them, and when he had, Oliver motioned to the spot beside him as a place for his friend to sit - but the short brunette didn't seem to notice, and was more set on sitting beside the transfer, Killian... So much so, that he basically told Keith to 'move out of his spot' - which was already humorous in itself (because small Phyrun being assertive is always an interesting sight) - but when Keith did the, 'I don't see your name on it' bit, even Oliver was forced to smirk.
As Phyrun and Killian introduced themselves to each other, he learned that Killian was also a fifth year (and was, again, reminded that Phyrun was a 6th year, and not a 5th). The dark haired transfer also mentioned that he was indifferent about having to switch schools, which to Oliver that was bizzare. "That sounds a bit questionable, Killian." he commented during the topic. Really, any normal transfer would be at least a little worried about switching here (especially after the events that transpired last year). But this new Ravenclaw didn't seem much like the normal transfer anyways... so maybe it wasn't as questionable of a statement as he was thinking it was.
Not that it really mattered at the moment, since Oliver certainly wasn't going to bring up last years horrifying events within the first day of them arriving back at school - for obvious reasons.
"My break? It was just fine without you, actually. I had a part time job, stayed up studying a lot, went on a trip with Odette and my mother - " he paused for a moment, considering if he should add on, also had my first kiss; but after a second more of thought, he realized that would be not only awkward to say, but possibly even laughable. (Especially since Keith had probably had his first kiss when he was like eleven, and Phyrun probably when he was twelve - and Killian... Well, he probably hadn't even had a first kiss yet, if Oliver was to judge - but that still didn't mean he needed to bring up the experience.) In fact, it wasn't like it had been a serious thing anyways - it was during the trip, he wanted to learn how to kiss, and he did. It was simple. "But in total, it was a fairly typical break - informative, but mostly just very typical." Bringing it up would just be dumb. (And likely regretful.)
But one thing he could bring up that wasn't dumb nor regretful, was what he noticed during the Sorting Ceremony - while he wasn't 100% certain, he was at least a good 75.5% certain... He continued to eat a few more carrot slices, and take (four second) sips from his tea, while he gave the others a chance to verbally reminisce their breaks too; but quickly after, Oliver brought up his observation.
"During the Sorting Ceremony, I thought I saw a girl get sorted into Hufflepuff with the last name of, Blutmond." he stated, shifting his gaze around the room until he somehow located among the hundreds of faces, the face of Sebastion, who was illuminating a look more sour than curdling milk. "I could be wrong, but I'm fairly certain that could be Sebastian Blutmond's sister... Blutmond's are commonly known to be sorted into Slytherin, aren't they?" he questioned, switching his gaze from Sebastian, and onto Belladonna instead, who definitely looked nothing like the pissed off Sebastian beside her. He had trouble spotting her earlier, but once you find one of the Slytherin trio, you're likely to find the other two - obviously she still looked just as elegant as ever, even more so than the previous year, if that was possible - especially with the flower crown? (That was an ingenious addition, especially for someone who held themselves so highly.)
It took him a few seconds to realize that Bella was actually waving at him, and when he did, he absentmindedly blinked a few times before quickly forcing a small smile, and giving a nod of his head in return...Not the ideal way to say hello, but at least it was something.
He quickly turned his gaze away from the Slytherin table, and refocused his attention back onto the two Ravenclaw's and the Gryffindor in front of him."I mean, it would explain the rather... murderous look Sebastian is sporting; not that is really matters to me, but since you hate his guts Keith, I thought that might be a point of interest for you."
Sixth Year | Phyrun Dalca | Ravenclaw Location: Great Hall | Time: approaching 2000
Phyrun narrowed his eyes at Keith, losing the mask he normally wore in polite company in order to show Keith he was really not amused. But, the mask was only gone for a second, long enough for Phyrun to glare at the Gryffindor, and it was replaced quickly and efficiently. He settled himself on the bench, making sure to sit closer to Keith than Killian so that the transfer student had some semblance of space. Honestly, the kid was new. No need to smother him on the first day.
He shoved Keith his plate and grabbed the empty plate from next to Oliver, tipping his head with a soft, apologetic smile. He had noted as he sat that Oliver had an empty seat beside him but Phyrun's main concern had been Keith pushing boundaries with a foreign student. Phyrun gathered food on his plate, commenting, "Only you would be skeptical about someone finding transferring schools as inconsequential. I am tempted to agree with Faulkenhausten that it is inconsequential. The only difficulties present in a transfer to Hogwarts are getting lost if you came from a school not quite as...expansive as Hogwarts is and if the classes are working at a level higher than what you were prepared for."
Phyrun turned his attention to Killian. "Though, if you were placed in Ravenclaw, I doubt the latter would be a concern for you. If nothing else, the most common tendency for the house of ravens is being prepared." He tapped his fork against his plate in thought. "I can get you to your classes if you want the aid but many of us find it easier to stumble around on our own. If you would rather, I can create you a map tonight once you have your schedule handy." He tapped his fork again, his gaze drifting briefly to his food. "Wouldn't be difficult. May still have Rachel's old one, actually."
His mind wandered off for the briefest of moments before he was brought back by the rest of the conversation. He rolled his eyes. Of course Keith would be egotistical enough to ask about the summer break and insinuate that it was not grand because he hadn't been there. Phyrun didn't care to jump into that conversation, nor the one about Blutmond's sister. If anything, he wasn't worried. Rachel would help the girl out, even if it meant protecting her from her own family. He tapped his fork against his plate again as a thought floated in. Maybe they'd have a new house guest when the breaks arrived, then? Would be interesting to see his sister interact with another not in the school setting. He knew she had grown quite comfortable with the Hufflepuff mask she wore but he also knew it wouldn't last long either. His sister just didn't have his resolve.
He turned his attention to Killian, offering, "Don't mind the gossip. There'll be quite a lot that you won't understand for some time and, honestly, the majority of it is best left alone." He nodded towards Oliver. "Oliver is more trustworthy than Anderson is when it comes to it, though, if that's you're thing."
Sebastian's remarks, while rude and classless, didn't leave a negative effect on the Slytherin girl. These jests and insults were more common than heartfelt compliments and apologies in their group. It would be impossible not to grow used to the insults that flew in every conversation- maybe even grow fond of them after a while. Insults were only acceptable when they came from the silver trio, of course. Belladonna was not someone who would never let anyone step on her, no matter how. People foolish enough to insult the pureblood girl always met the same fate. Humiliation, insults and some curses that could send trained wizards to the infirmary were her favourite punishments- she'd actually grown quite fond of specific methods she enjoyed practicing on Hailey every now and then. Seb and Val were quite famous for the danger that came with insulting another member of the Slytherin royalty, too. It was one of the reasons she loved their group so much. No matter what happened, how many times they hexed each other for the most insignificant arguments, they would always have each others back. When the group was united, there was no force on Earth that could break them up. "Friendships like these are the ones worth dying for," Belladonna mused.
"Poor dear Sebastian, the shock must've been too much for that raising you have the audacity to call a brain," Belladonna replied, now facing her friend and faking a sympathetic grin. "I have enough admirers, my dear friend. All those poor girls, the ones who come running to my embrace after a less-than-satisfactory bedding performance by yourself. They do a fairly good job singing all of my virtues-amongst other things, of course. We're full at the moment, but I'm sure you'll be able to join and recite as many rhapsodies as you desire after Mila retires," the girl was obviously lying, but being so convincing the third year next to her almost choked on his meal after listening to her comment. Val and Seb would surely catch on, though. They knew her too well to know she wouldn't take her friend's girlfriends. Well, at least not all of them.
"What I was trying to say- if you'd stop being to thick and try to understand this time- is that Pandora is still young. So she's a Hufflepuff, maybe she disgraces the family name. It's not the end of the world. Val, you agree with me don't you?" Belladonna explained, dropping the insults, sarcasm and lies and reach a more serious subject. If there was one thing she disliked about Seb, was the fact she now saw him the same way the other filthy half breeds did. She didn't like being a werewolf, that was clear. However, after being disowned from the family she loved, having Death Eaters go after her because of the people she used to think of as mum and dad, and starting to accept half breeds as people. she herself was a living proof that people could change. She went from being a pureblood supremacist, to someone purebloods would love to hunt and hang on their walls. Half breeds, muggleborns, squibs, even muggles- all people who were hated just for being alive. Belladonna now supported these people (she even thanked a house elf the other day!) and could only hope her others friends could learn from their mistakes as well. Val wasn't a problem, the guy had practically volunteered to risk his life by watching over her every night and was friends with the beautiful half blood, Mila. Seb, however, was a different story. So much blood supremacy he would put Lord Voldemort to shame. If he ever found out about her...condition...hell would break lose. Belladonna believed that they had to take few steps at a time, and if that meant she would have to make him accept other houses before moving on to accepting other people then so be it.
Sebastian's next comment made her look up to face Hailey once more, baring her teeth to snarl at the girl before closing her mouth shut and returning to her usual elegant demeanour. Perhaps leaving her wolfsbane potion in her trunk hadn't been her best idea. The full moon had shown it's disgusting appearance the night before, and the side-effects of turning into a werewolf were still attacking her. The nausea and limb pain had been much more severe in the Hogwarts Express, but she'd had the potion with her back then. Now, with nothing to help her hide her savage nature she had nothing more than her fragile self control to stop her from looking like a complete lunatic in front of the entire Slytherin table. The Slytherin girl cleared her throat, then waited a few seconds to answer. "Don't worry, Val. I don't plan to do anything just yet. I'll just wait until I'm hungry, that's when Hailey will forget every dragging those disgusting feet of hers inside the walls of the castle. Her survival is not guaranteed." She reassured her messy haired friend with a wicked grin before turning back to her favourite activity of poking her food.
"So, how was your break?" Belladonna asked, trying to break the tension that came with Pandora's acceptance into Hufflepuff. The girl wasn't planning on making it a private event, or so it seemed by the laughter and cheering coming from the Hufflepuff table. Not that it was the only table that'd gone insane due to the new and excitable students. She just couldn't wait for them to keep the whole house up all night with their screams. Maybe warning them about the moving staircase could wait, falling a couple of floors down might help them learn why to shut up and listen to their elders in a castle that'd gone through so many accidents it was a wonder the Ministry hadn't closed it. "Mine was...interesting, to say the least. Mostly going to court every Friday to see who would be sent to Azkaban and who would be convincing enough to get away. Had a nice dinner with my parents, though. The place had some interesting choices when it came to meat. They're dead now, did I forget to mention that?" The girl asked softly, not bothering to hide the large grin resting upon her face. She just couldn't help it, the murder had been so perfect the real crime was not being recognised for it. The Daily Prophet would soon be posting articles about their deaths, leaving anyone to wonder who the murderer was. It was like a real life murder mystery parties her aunt used to be so fond of. The good part was that now she got to be the one watching the others scramble to find the killer. Nothing more than pawns in one big board game.
| Great Hall - Hufflepuff Table | 7ish PM | Warm |
If Penelope had to describe the setting in one word, she would call it warm. Hogwarts welcomed her back with a warm embrace, one that could be compared to a mother seeing her child after a long separation. With the condition of her mother, this was the only place where she could get that feeling now. The homecoming flooded her with a deep sense of nostalgia that felt more powerful this year than the year before. Even with the damage of the war, this place was still home. This place was still warm; no amount of separation or horror could make it cold.
The sight of the sorting ceremony showed that there was still hope for a new generation that would do better than the last. These little first years had not known much of the Battle of Hogwarts. These new students were merely small children when it happened. Though, at the same time, she reminded herself that all the students who fought to protect Hogwarts were far from adults at the time. Unfortunately, war roughly forced them to grow up in such a brief amount of time that it left emotional marks in the same way that puberty caused stretched marks. Of course, today was not a day to dwell on the past. It was the day to welcome the future, the new school year. The smell of hot food both comforted Penelope and made her realize how incredibly hungry she was. She began piling food onto her plate, not caring for a second what the other kids would think about how much food she was eating. The feeling of being around her classmates reminded her how strongly she'd felt their absence over the holiday. Sure, they got incredibly annoying sometimes, but she loved them nonetheless. Well, most of them, anyway. There were a few people she just couldn't stand. Namely, people like Sebastian Blutmond, who still had some ridiculous desire to hold on to the idea of pure-blood supremacy. Penelope found it incredibly disgusting that these people could have witnessed all the bloodshed and horror of the war caused by their ideology and still hold it dear. It made her want to defenestrate them, in the most archaic sense, even though she generally wasn't a very violent person.
Seated at the Hufflepuff next to her dear friend Mila Sutherland, Penelope began stuffing her face with roast beef, mashed potatoes, and peas. It was incredibly unladylike. Thankfully, Penelope never prided herself on table manners or self restraint. Merlin, the Hogwarts food was beyond divine. Whilst her mother had been a fantastic chef and she couldn't complain about her father's cooking, there was just something so different, unique even, about the food at Hogwarts. Hogwarts food tasted like promise for a good year. Hogwarts food tasted like togetherness. Hogwarts food tasted warm. Pen worked herself into a rhythm, putting food into her mouth and consuming it at a steady rate. There was no way she would be able to mingle until she got her hunger under control; she had a tendency to be irritable after not eating for a while. A lot of students bought food on the train to sate their appetites, but unfortunately, Penelope had a tendency to feel incredibly nauseated if she ate while in a moving vehicle and that, wheb combined with the 'first-day-back nerves,' was a recipe for disaster.
While she ate, Penelope's eyes wandered around the Great Hall, searching for some familiar faces. The very first person she spotted was Belladonna. The girl's incredibly light hair made her stick out a bit, along with the way she carried herself. The flowercrown was a cute touch. Penelope was a fan of Belladonna; they'd become friends after Bella started changing her views about blood supremacy. Unfortunately, she still had ties with the infamous elitist Sebastian. Next to her was the popular pretty boy of Slytherin, Valerius. They'd only shared a few conversations that Pen didn't remember because she'd been thinking about how pretty he was while he was talking at the time. She'd heard he wasn't into girls and she wasn't into him in any sense aside from an aesthetic one. Her carmel eyes scanned the table for Hailey and reacted with no surprise when she didn't find the girl sitting with the other Slytherins. She still wanted to find Hailey at some point. Over the summer, she had kept track of every muggle thing she wanted to ask her friend about. The top of the list included an odd sort of device called a tamagotchi and some card game named Pokemon. Muggle names for things were so odd. At the Ravenclaw table, she spotted Keith, her favorite Quidditch player, sitting with some Ravenclaws: otherwise known as a recipe for disaster.
After finishing a generously packed plate of food, the brunette felt much better and turned her focus to her fellow Hufflepuffs instead. She saw a few unfamiliar, young faces towards the end. However, there was one girl who looked oddly familiar, though she couldn't figure out why. The newly sorted first years were wide eyed and excited, though she was sure there was some apprehension there as well. Hufflepuff, for some ridiculous reason, had this reputation for being a weak house that took the leftovers of every other house. The reputation was unfounded and infuriating. There was nothing that peeved Penelope more than people putting down her house; just because Hufflepuffs didn't feel the need to show off like the Gryffindors, lacked the self-importance of the Slytherins, and weren't in love with academics like the Ravenclaws, did not, in any way, mean that they were weak. Hell, they had the second highest number of witches and wizards that stayed to fight the war. They were second only to Gryffindor; however, Penelope felt the difference between the two was that a lot of Gryffindors felt they had something to prove by staying- Hufflepuffs stayed because of the deep loyalty they felt towards their home. Pen was pulled out of this thought by the beautiful voice of her friend.
Penelope took a second to think of her response to Mila's question: How was her summer? In reality, her summer had been garbage. Most of it was spent taking care of her mother, visiting dozens of healers, and trying to keep the remnants of her family together. To the average person, she would have said it was a good summer and would have talked about how she'd made her first wand. Her first want had taken a long amount of time and her father had guided her through every step. She would definitely leave out the reason why it took so long- they had limited opportunities to work on it because someone always had to be with her mother- and let them think that it was just because wand making took a while. However, this was Mila, her good friend, so she felt like she could be honest.
"It could have been worse, but it definitely could have been better. My mum's condition is still pretty bad. I spent most of my summer taking care of her with my dad, actually. It was pretty emotionally exhausting," Penelope explained in a bit of a detatched tone, but summoned a smile to her face a moment later, "but we hold on to hope. Enough of the somber stuff from my summer, though; I'm glad that I'm here now. How was your holiday? Did you have any fun? Any new people I should know about?"
The summer had taught Penelope how to deal with her mother's situation and not feel so incredibly bogged down by it. She could now talk about the whole thing with some ease and not let it ruin the moment, which was a great deal of progress since at the beginning she could barely stand the mention of her mother's name without disappearing into a puddle of tears. She was rather proud of that. But, most importantly, she was happy to be home. If there was one thing that Penelope could do for hours with no complaint, it was listen to Mila talk. She wasn't sure if it was a veela thing or not, but the girl's voice was just enchanting. After a moment's hesitation, Penelope added, "That new first year down there looks incredibly familiar. Kinda like... Wait, do you think she's that jerk Sebastian's sister? I couldn't place my finger on it until now about who she reminded me of. If she is, I totally feel bad for her for having to deal with that guy. But, if she's here, she has to be exponentially better, right? I bet he's absolutely pissed about it too."
From his friend's phrases, Sebastian snapped out of his laments and leaned back, sparing the pudding from further poking. "Excuse you," he narrowed his eyes at Val, stabbing the fork against the surface of the wooden table. To his surprise, it sticked there. "I do not cause the loss of Slytherin points all the time. Put some of the blame for Bells. And yourself." Val was true to some point, however. Sebastian did lose a lot of points. There was this one time he lost fifty points for accidentally (at least he claimed it to be an accident) playfully (once more, he claimed it to be simply a "harmless joke") cast a jinx. In class. At Keith. Of course it has to be Keith. And it also happens to be a sea urchin jinx. That was a week he'd rather forget and remember at the same time. Pretty sure they both (yeah, both) ended in the hospital wing for a week after that, and they made Madam Pomfrey cry out in frustration and complained to McGonagall.
He could even barely remember why he did so in the first place, other than the underlined part that stood out from the rest, which is the fact that Keith is horribly annoying in all humane and inhumane possible. In his defense, that was the maximum points deducted by him so far. And that was probably back in second year or so, when his temper was so bad, way worse than right now even. And Sebastian was deemed to be quite impatient. Nevertheless, as he grew of age, Sebastian grew more composed around teachers, especially with Professor Gardner, their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Call him two-faced, but that's what he is. Even when lately, he figured that learning strictly dark magic is way more interesting than learning how to defend from it. Still, Sebastian was rule abiding.
He bet he got used to that from his family.
"And what did you say?" he added quickly. "It was upbringing so it was technically my fault?" he pointed at himself, doing a mock hurt impression. "In case you haven't noticed, I am way too young and beautiful to be that brat's parents. And for all I know, it's kind of the parents' job to teach their children. And it worked with me. I bet mother dropped her head on a brick or something when she was younger." It was true. How they taught Pandora was no different to how they taught Sebastian. They expected her to grow the same, but for some reason the girl was more obsessed with grass and butterflies than learning the origins of the dark arts. He guessed it was simply the malfunction in the DNA codings.
"I guess not," was all he could mutter in response to Belladonna. He was tired. Listening to his parents' non-stop rants before he left was exhausting. Them telling to look over for Pandora and making sure of her going to Slytherin was painful. REMEMBERING these facts made him want to scream his hearts out and run through the halls naked. He found himself secretly thankful that his parents were not the howler type. At least he's got a few months until he had to look at their faces. He was clearly not looking forward going back home. Deciding that he had enough headaches for today, the male decided to spare his friends from further rantings as he sighed and scooped up a bunch of potatoes to his plate before standing up slightly to reach for the roast beef slightly away from their spot. He just kept a mental note that next time he wouldn't be so generous.
Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Really, at this time I couldn't decide whether to tear up dramatically underneath the gentle caress of moonlight or just laugh at your buggin' face. I really don't know your issue with your parents, since I don't think I've ever bothered to ask, but do you hate them that much?" He guessed the normal reaction to deceased parents were to at least look bothered or sad by it. Sebastian thinks that he would probably cry a week long if his parents died. Even if it was Pandora. Maybe. But perhaps no one would ever know before the event arrives from itself. What he did remember was that around a decade ago, he didn't cry when his grandparents died, and was actually caught red-handed joking about it to his sister. He was grounded for the whole month and his parents burnt every message from Val and Bella, probably asking where Sebastian was. But he never knew, since the letters, well, were set up in flames.
Then he began to dig in his own dinner, and in that moment all feelings of blandness and oh-I'm-too-pissy-to-eat vanished with a snap. Sebastian had forgotten how good Hogwart's Great Feast was. In that moment he felt so hungry, and was reminded that the last time he ate was hours ago on the train. In his dictionary, snacking never counts as food. In the mean time, Sebastian was never fond of telling stories about how his break went. Which was ironic, since he did pester the two about their trips while refusing to tell his own. Let's say that a trip to the Bahamas wasn't particularly a way the Blutmonds spend their holidays. Instead, he decided to push on the subject with Belladonna. After all, this time he was genuinely curious. Or maybe he was simply avoiding to talk about how he had to watch over Pandora the whole bloody month and stays at home nearly ninety-percent of the time. He was surprised he didn't turn so pale, or even if he did, he did not notice. Last year was sort of hectic, if he may add. The whole Dark Lord business and all that's bright and cheerful. It was funny to see how so few were still visibly shaken from the events, even none. They all could've died. So many have died. If Sebastian had placed a teensy bit more effort on remembering people's faces, then he may be surprised at how much people have disappeared like poof! As if they meant nothing. And maybe they do, besides that role of overpopulating the world and serving as Mother Earth's personal heater. Thankfully he knew better than to face enemies head on. He wasn't scared. More like...he was confused on which side to take.
"I heard of what happened from the Daily Prophet," he muttered through bites. "Or maybe you told me over with mails or something, but I forgot. So they were murdered huh? Did you find a lead or anything? Knowing you, you probably wouldn't stop until you find them, ey?" He shoved more food into his mouth. "Und chu prannin tuh bite ther huds off?" (and you're planning to bite their heads off) he spoke in a mouthful. ((so funny to how mistaken Sebastian is to everything...))
She watched the exchange between her friends quietly, occasionally moving her head to face whoever was talking. In her opinion, the house points system was practically made for Slytherins to win. The Gryffindors, who were obsessed with their pranks and adventures, lost so many house points it was a miracle they didn't win the last place every single year. Their only saving grace seemed to be the fact that the professors loved their precious, brave heroes of the lion house and Quidditch. The Ravenclaws were worthy adversaries due to the points they earned in class, but they lacked the teamwork necessary to work as a house in such an important competition. There was no reason to consider the Hufflepuffs to be threats, for they weren't as competitive as the other houses. Slytherins had the coordination and brains necessary to win the house cup, if only the younger students could stop getting caught breaking the rules... Not that the older students were angels. She and her friends had no problem breaking a few rules (and laws, don't tell the Ministry) every now and then, and the other six years weren't above that either. However, after spending so many years as a student one learns how to defy the law and get away with it. Older Slytherins, with their brilliant minds and trustworthy companions, were less likely to get caught than a reckless Gryffindor. However, when a Slytherin was caught, the possibility to lose less than 20 points was as low as Hailey's social skills. It never hurt to be careful.
"I won't deny we've lost our fair share of points in the past-" Belladonna began, placing her elbows on top of the table and resting her head on her hands, "-but this year is going to be different- harder than ever. We had teachers who gave us points for breathing in the past; Snape, that ugly toad Umbridge, the Carrows, every DADA teacher that turned out to be evil...but they're gone now. Dumbledore might not be around to give the Gryffindors their special treatment, but I doubt the Headmistress will let anyone abuse the house points system anymore. Now it really is up to us to win the house cup, and no Slytherin can afford to make us lose." Belladonna spoke, her voice so firm and serious it was hard to believe those words were coming from her mouth. It'd been so long since Slytherin won the house cup...she was not going to let anything stop her house from shining once more. They deserved it, more than anyone else. "Perhaps I'll get the prefects to arrange a house meeting later tonight. They must agree with me, I'm sure of it."
[SIZE= 14px]Selfish and power-hungry? Yes. Hated by everyone? Yes. The Slytherin prefects might have a reputation for being unfair gits who enjoy taking points away from the other houses (especially Gryffindor), but they were still Slytherins. Snakes who would put their house and its reputation before their duties as fair prefects. They shouldn't be trusted, and Belladonna wouldn't dream on giving them her tiniest, most insignificant secret, but if there was anyone with the power to make them win the House cup, it was them. She just knew they were just as eager to see the defeated faces of the others at the end of the year. Not only that, but they were intimidating enough to scare the younger students into obeying their commands. If they couldn't scare them, then she would. It would only take a few minutes of her time to take care of the hyperactive children that threatened their victory. [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 14px]"Professor Gardner. He's a Slytherin, right?" She asked, taking her attention away from Sebastian defending himself and claiming his sister was stupid because she'd been dropped as an infant to focus on the teachers. She didn't know much about their new mentors, but the handsome defence against the dark arts teacher seemed like someone who could help them gain more points. It was dirty, yes. But cheating was not something that hurt the girl's morals and using a teacher didn't even seem wrong in her eyes. The man was going to lose his job anyways, considering the fact all of their defence against the dark arts teachers resigned, died,turned out to be death eaters, or killed the headmaster and ruined the school at the end of the year. No one kept the position for more than a year, and she doubted they would be seeing much of the professor during their seventh year. "He could help. But it's too early to tell. We'll need to observe him in class before asking for his help. It's a shame he'll probably be dead in a few months, though. I wouldn't mind seeing his face for a couple more years." The girl commented, batting her eyelashes at the professor but turning away before checking if he'd seen her or not. The good thing about being friends with Val and Seb, was that she didn't even need to ask for their help before dragging them into a new plan. If they wanted to break the law, then they would break it together, it was the golden rule. She could come up with world domination plans and they would probably be up for it. [/SIZE]
Sebastian's response to the news of her parent's death left her smiling once more. It was normal for a teenage girl to hate her parents, but hating them to the point she would rejoice when hearing about their gruesome ends was practically unheard of. Except for Bella. She didn't just hate her parents, she loathed them, couldn't stand thinking about how they'd destroyed the family she'd wanted for so long. Was it suspicious, yes. But it was not like her friends would take her to the Ministry and make her confess her crimes. The crime had been a carnage, one too horrifying for a Hogwarts student to be capable of. But it was much to easy to blame a beast for their deaths. The only person who knew about her condition was Val, and he was far too loyal to turn his back on her for this. Murder and all, the group would always be more important than morals and the law. "Seb, you knew my parents. They might've been brilliant before, but Azkaban killed them. The whole world saw it. They were deranged...they could barely tell the difference between a wand and a stick. There's no need to talk about what they did after escaping, but it was enough to make anyone hate them. So no, I didn't hate my parents. I despised those filthy rats. The only place they deserve to be in is six feet underground."
[SIZE= 14px]"Merlin's beard, Sebastian. Would you please chew before speaking? Did your mother forget to teach you any manners?" The Slytherin girl complained, turning her face to the side in disgust. Perhaps her previous words were too harsh, judging by the way the third year who'd been sitting next to her had changed seats as soon as she finished talking. There was no way the Aurors would be able to classify her as the murderer. But she was a perfect candidate for an accomplice. Losing her sister and being disowned from the family for no apparent reason were perfectly good motives for someone to go after her parents, especially someone as violent as Belladonna. It was only a matter of time before some nosy Auror made the connection and arrested her for questioning. If they used veritaserum on her, she was a dead woman. Sebastian's question regarding what she planned to do with the murderer gave her an idea. Maybe pretending to look for clues could make the Aurors think she was just as desperate as they were to find the criminal. After all, why would she spend her time looking for criminals if she knows they weren't real. With a gentle nod, Belladonna decided her first order of business would be to send a letter to the Ministry, asking if they'd found anything and offering her help. In the meantime, keeping her façade around the other students wouldn't hurt. "I... well... not that I liked my parents. But whoever did it killed a member of the Coben family. Granted, I'm technically not a part of the family anymore- but I'll always be a Coben. Besides, my brother was most devastated by the news. It would only be right for me to go after whoever killed them. But when I do find them, Azkaban will be the least of their worries, I assure you."[/SIZE]
◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ KEITH ◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ ANDERSON ◅▻◅▻◅▻◅▻ THE TROUBLEMAKER // GRYFFINDOR
mood: AT HOME | LOCATION: GREAT HALL | TIME: 8:30 PM
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Conversations carried on making time slip like sand through open fingers. Various topics were breached and mulled over. Trivial details were skimmed and few comments left a lasting imprint. For someone who couldn't care less, Keith did not mind it. The mood was still lively, buoyant and buzzing with vibes that made optimists like him thrive. He couldn't have asked for better company.
"Still better than being homeschooled," Keith shrugged after chugging his meal down with cider. He neither confirmed nor denied his experience in such and grinned cheekily at Oliver's standard glare. "I think it helps keep track of all the other Olivers in the school," he said despite knowing only one other Oliver. "Aglio no Olio has a good ring, but hm, if you insist on something new... how about AnO for short? Ah-no, Ay-no." Keith tested, trying out different pronunciations. The boyish smile on his face stretched leaving pearly whites to peek underneath. "Sounds a bit like anal, doesn't it?" He laughed despite the poor joke, letting his laughter die quickly into short chuckles. If Aivree was around, he was sure she would've laughed with him.
"Kiddin. You know you're stuck with olio," Keith reassured as he tucked his chin underneath his palm. His body was shifted towards the two Ravenclaws beside him. He was pleasantly surprise to see Killian respond to his later question. Few did, especially when they were newly acquaintances and even when they had, it was always the same boring sort of reply. Killian's straight-forwardness was something the male could appreciate.
"It's okay. You'll have plenty time to miss me soon," he teased, words usually bordering flirtatious if anyone squinted. "Keith or Mr Handsome. I accept both." Keith clicked his tongue throwing pointer guns in Kilian's direction. Galling as it was, his answer was a step away from obnoxious due to the obvious implication of a joke. He shook his head lightly as though refusing the use of his last name.
"Sounds boring save for the trip. I'm amazed you have the energy to keep up with studies during term and break," Keith said, insult empty and no offenses met. He bantered enough times with Oliver to know what was within joking boundaries and what wasn't. Kinda. "How do you plan to find a girlfriend if you're always working? Odette would be married by the time you get your first kiss in. I know," he starts, eyes containing that glint of mischief which sends most of his friends in dread. "How bout we drop down to Hogsmeade tonight to get you started? I know a handful of seniors that's going to be down at The Three Broomsticks." Being a wingman to a sumpsimus like Oliver was going to be fun. Tricky, but fun nonetheless.
Tonight, they'll leave. With his mind on a particular favored drink of his, that much he was certain - until his attention was caught by something far more interesting. "Wait, seriously?" Keith said, getting up from his seat to scan the twelve-year old multitude huddled in bunches of golds and black. He had missed out most of the Sorting due to tardiness but vaguely remembered seeing someone familiar. Now he knew why.
"Buttmond is going to freak." Hailey's personal nickname for the Slytherin was beginning to catch on. Amused glee was in his voice as he sat back down; he didn't need to look over to know. Almost every non-pureblood, non-Slytherin knew what a hard head the Blutmond male was towards the people he considered "lesser".
Catching quiet Phyrun's words, Keith turned to Killian offering his piece of advice. "Gossip or no gossip, best watch out for Hydra." Keith said, stabbing his dessert with his fork. The chocolate eclair bled white and Keith scooped up its contents, eating the custard but leaving the shell. If Oliver was watching, he wondered which would've scandalized him more: the fact that he only ate the inside or that he used a fork.
"They call themselves the Silver Trio or something. Sometimes the Three Queens from what I've heard, " Keith rambled, scraping the chocolate off the eclair with his fork. He sectioned it away from the shell as he spoke. "Bella and Val are fine though, especially if you catch them alone. Together with him." Keith shuddered in exaggeration. "It's not worth torturing yourself. You'd lose more brain cells a minute in with Sebby than a Cruciatus Curse for a year."
The conversation went on and with Keith's ever-changing attention span, it was no surprise to see the male ready to leave for new company. Leaning back, he spotted the bright splotch of pink in the crowd and knowing it to be only one person in the whole school, Keith called out to her, cupping his mouth with his hands.
"Yo BG, over here." He waved his hand, ushering her over. "Where's Aiv?" he asked when she joined their table, eyes later falling onto said mention girl. "Oops. sorry, didn't see you there, Tiny." he grinned as a well-deserved punch met his right arm; there was definitely less force than there was compared to the first time he called her small. Keith reckoned even Aivree was growing used to his ever pesky nicknames.
"We're talking about sneaking down to The Three Broomsticks later so Olio can get his first snog in. You guys game to join?
-- i wanna make you mine but that's hard to say --
Quinn sighed at Aviree's comment as she plastered a coy smirk on her face, "Keith's probably trying to get into his pants knowing him," Quinn joked but she couldn't help but feel slightly hurt at her own comment. She hated this feeling, she hated how much she wanted to place a kiss on his adorable face but the thought of rejection or even ruining their beautiful relationship always broke her courage to tell him, maybe there will be a day when Quinn confesses but until then, it will stay as a secret. "Can you please grow a few inches, Aiv?" The girl asked with a joking smile as she ruffled her friend's short brown hair.
"Yo BG, over here."
Quinn spun around on her heels as she heard her friend's familiar voice. "I think I found him," Quinn spoke as she gave Keith a cheerful way, "C'mon Aiv," She ordered, grabbing her by the wrist before leading her to Keith and the rest of the other males he suddenly had around him. "Hey Anderson," Quinn smiled as she slipped herself between the new kid and Phyrun. Her brown hues noticed the strange boy sitting next to her, "Name's Quinn Monroe, nice to meet you." She smiled as her Australian accent soon began to take over her voice, placing her hand in front of him for a handshake. "Heading down to Hogsmeade? I'm game." She grinned as she picked a crumb off Keith's plate and popped it into her mouth. "I gotta watch out for McGonagall though," She sighed as she threw a glance towards the elderly teacher, "She's already mad at me for being late, don't want to earn a detention on the first day like last year." Quinn giggled with a wink
[COLOR= rgb(47, 79, 79)][SIZE= 24px]Aivree Lanzone[/COLOR]
Gryffindor///6th Year//Great Hall @7pm[/SIZE]
After the initial blow up at Quinn Aivree sighed letting her arms fall to her sides as the Pink haired child seemed to go on about her problems. It was part way through that she realized that someone else had arrived to there side. Odd how Aivree somehow, through no fault but her own, had drawn three people to her company. After all, moments ago she was scary a twelve year old with talking to her cat and now she was talking with not one but two friends.
Course the term was used loosely, but that only was the way because Aivree wasn’t the most social person in the world.
“Speaking of Hailey,” Aivree said rather flatly, moving her arms from hanging beside her to crossed over her chest as Hailey joined the two. Scoffing she shook her head of brown hair in agreement. “It’s the shits right? The food is good at least. To many people, its loud-- though I did see some interesting news with Buttmonds sister.” She spoke only gossiping slightly, though the term gossiping could be used lightly considering the news was presented in front of the school. “We may want to steer clear of the Drama Queen.” Aivree advised cautiously.
Aivree was going to ask the normal, cliché ‘How was your summer’ questions to Hailey but before she even had a chance the familiar voice of Keith rose from the ashes of the evening from across the room. How Aivree heard it she wasn’t completely sure but decided to not question it but before they answered the comment about her size registered adding to her irritated state that she seemed to always be in. “Yeah, if there was a spell to make me grow I would be all over that. But there isn’t. That I am aware of anyways.” Aivree huffed starting to follow the bubble gum girl even before she was going to be dragged, but before that she was able to take Hailey’s arm to drag her with. “If I have to be social you do too. Sorry, the miserable love company right?”
With the short walk, with the train of people heading in the direction of Keith came to a stop Aivree brushed herself off and stood a little taller feeling short amongst the crowd. But she always did and the comment was the last straw, like normal a punch was given to Keith before she glared up at him. “You never learn you know that?” she spat, allowing her eyes to scan the faces that seemed to be accompanying Keith. Oliver and Phryun she recognised, at least vaguely the other boy she knew was the new transfer student. He seemed less than impressed about a few things but what situations that seemed to have happened in the amount time they had actually been present she had no idea.
Nor did she truly care that much.
“Even if I say no, I have a feeling I will be dragged along anyways.” The sigh fell from her lips as she looked into her hood a moment to see how Fluff was doing. The pleasant purr could be heard just barely and Aivree knew that the cat was perfectly fine where he was. Better to leave him there, at least he wouldn’t be causing trouble. Turning back to the new kid, she leaned back and giving a slight smirk. “I’m Aivree Lanzone, I don’t normally introduce myself but better to give my name then some weird nickname Keith gives people.” She added in rolling her eyes at the thought of all the nicknames she had to live with.
It had become too much of a bother to make a big deal anymore.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ GREAT HALL - SLYTHERIN TABLE ▃ BORED & IRATE // JUST WANTS TO LEAVE ▃▃
Another thing Val detested about the Sorting Ceremony: the sheer length of it. An entire night wasted on hours upon hours of pointless conversation that could just as easily be carried out in the comfort of their respective common rooms—and the students (read: Val) weren’t even allowed to leave until McGonagall gave the go-ahead to do so.
It was completely absurd.
He could’ve been in bed by now. Instead, he was stuck glaring at the fork Sebastian—the brute—oh-so-casually stabbed into the dining table, uncaring of the fact that it was mahogany, for Merlin’s sake. With a jerk of his chin, the fork twiddled its way out of its wooden prison, before coming to rest beside Sebastian’s plate.
(He briefly entertained the idea of stabbing the fork into Blutmond’s hand, “so he’ll feel how the table feels” and all that, but ultimately decided against it because A., it would once again only spark a battle Val was hardly in the mood to fight; and B., such a feat would require the use of his wand, which he was far too lazy to retrieve.).
The wood mended itself afterwards, much to Val’s subsequent delight. All was right with the world. Sort of.
“At least I’m capable of earning them back.” He answered pointedly, directing his attention back to Sebastian. “And if I recall correctly, you were as docile as a sedated dormouse when I plucked you from that corner when we were kids.” If he were raised poorly, this would be the part where he would point his fork at the male for emphasis—but no. He wasn’t brought up to jab his cutlery accusingly at other people. See? Upbringing. “So technically, Bella and I raised you. Unfortunately, something went wrong along the way which is how…this…happened.” He finished, a look of playful disgust crossing his features as he gestured vaguely at Sebastian.
Their first few moments as a trio had been a rather awkward one, what with Val and Bella having known each other for years before adopting Sebastian into the fold. The two of them had been the type of children who ran amok at parties: hiding under buffet tables and clambering over each others’ shoulders to snatch sweets on platters too high for them to reach otherwise. Sebastian had been far quieter by comparison but, little by little, the two managed to coax the boy from his shell—with no small amount of mischief along the way—with little Sebastian eventually growing to be the most troublesome of them all.
Val remembered fondly their days zipping around the Rosiers’ estate; mapping secret passages and toying with the various magical artefacts scattered around the manor. Watching Val’s brothers duel was always a coveted treat—especially when it ended with Hadrian (Val’s least favourite brother) losing spectacularly against Cadmus (Val's favourite before he turned into a fucking Death Eater, of all things).
If he had a shred of sentimentality in him, Val would’ve sighed wistfully at the memory. But he hadn’t, so he didn’t.
“But yes, I agree with Bella. We’ve only got two years left in this wretched place. Might as well bring the cup back to the snakes.” He shrugged, eyeing the basket of fruit to his left for a few moments before reaching over and plucking a bright red apple from the mix. Picking up a knife, he methodically began carving bite sized pieces from the fruit, bringing it to his mouth with the knife-tip each time.
Val quirked an eyebrow at the mention of Professor Gardner, which rose even higher when Bella started batting her eyelashes at him. “Oy. Quit making eyes at Myron. He’s mine.” He snapped, though it was all in good fun. Professor Gardner was attractive, yes. Maybe even inhumanly so. But everyone knew the gloves only came off when it came to Professor Hicks. Fawn over Professor Gardner all you want, but even breathe in Professor Hicks’ direction, and Val will throttle you. That was the rule. “DADA is practically child’s play for us at this point, anyway. I see no reason for him not to help us.” He added between bites of apple. Unlike Sebastian, he didn’t chew with his mouth open.
Then Bella spoke about her parents' death. The news itself didn’t come as much of a shock; it had already circulated rather thoroughly around the pureblood circles, but it was Bella’s far too casual delivery of it that raised a questioning brow. The least she could do was act sad, but then again, with parents like hers, he wouldn’t be in a hurry to put on his funeral clothes either.
“Definitely. I’ve met them. Completely horrid.” He affirmed. “They aren’t—forgive me, weren’t—right in the head. Mad, really. But not like, my mum mad. Aunt Bellatrix mad.” He added, face souring immediately at his late-aunt’s name. She was psychotic, that woman. He loathed every single second spent in her company, and just the mere memory of her hands on him made him want to cast a full-body cleansing spell on himself.
It’s a good thing she was dead. And at the hands of a Weasley, too. Totally disgraceful.
“But you’re right. Family’s family, I suppose.” He said, wrinkling his nose. “I hope you find them. And do share if you do.”
He settled back into his seat, intent on finishing his food, when an insistent tug on his sleeve succeeded in stopping the progression of an apple chunk into his waiting mouth.
“What now?” He hissed, snapping his head towards the perpetrator. It turned out to be none other than PoppyParkinson (Fifth year. Younger sister of cousin Draco’s ex-girlfriend, Pansy. Also Unofficial Minion™.). Peering over her shoulder were fellow Unofficial Minions EliasCombe and Cedrella Flint. “What do you want?” Val scowled, shooting each of them a withering glance. “Guess what.” Poppy started, face smug. “We went snoopin’ ‘round the Ravenclaw table,” Cedrella continued, “And a bunch of them are planning on sneaking out later tonight.” Elias finished. Val fought the urge to sneer. “Sneak out? Sneak out where?” He asked instead. “T’the Three Broomsticks!” Cedrella proudly declared, albeit a little too loudly judging by the chorus of ‘shhh’s that followed. She was beautiful, yes, but admittedly not very bright.
“Interesting...” Val murmured, brows furrowing as he chewed thoughtfully at a sliver of apple. Ravenclaws breaking rules? What. “Exactly which Ravenclaws are we talking about?” He inquired—a question which immediately garnered a succession of smirks. “Not just Ravenclaws. A couple Gryffindors as well.” As soon as the word ‘Gryffindor’ fell from Poppy’s lips, Val instantly knew exactly who they were talking about. And Elias only confirmed his suspicions, “It’s Anderson. Him and his friends.”
Of course. Only Keith Anderson would be stupid enough to risk something like that on the first day. And only he was capable of dragging the Ravenclaws into his thrice-damned shenanigans as well.
Dismissing the trio, Val chanced a look at the Ravenclaw table, and sure enough, a puff of dark brown hair that could only belong to one Keith Anderson was visible; him and what was presumably his friends (Short hair? Aivree. A ghastly shade of neon pink? Definitely Monroe. Check and check.) clustered around Olly, Phyrun, and—interestingly enough—the transfer student from Ilvermorny. His eyes narrowed once more. So they were sneaking out, eh? Well. Can’t let them have all the fun, now can he? “Seb. Bells.” He snapped, shifting his eyes back to his friends. “You heard what they said. Care for a little field trip to Hogsmeade?”