Tuck In // Start of Term Feast

Cecilia would not have minded being ignored during dinner. She was used to it. Unfortunately for her, she wasnt the only one looking at the Head table. For some odd reason, the new staff had been far too intriguing that her usual 'stay away from me' aura had not worked since a younger claw had turned his excitement on her. Donald Westwood, she had known the name at least from hearing it a few times within the common rooom. She raised a brow and her stoic facial expression remained cold as usual. "Pray tell why someone like him would wish to teach? Such a gap from being a Quidditch player isnt it? I do wonder if he'll be of any use seeing as gis head used to be inflated with air from all that flying." she commented as she continued her meal, wondering if her cold indifference was enough to keep the boy's excitement away from her now. Cecilia had not wish to be a Hufflepuff head, or worse, a Gryffindor, just because some player wanted to suddenly teach a bunch of students.

The 13 year old shrugged when challenged why someone like him would wish to each. ”I dunno...” he pondered. It was a good point. While it was the quidditch player, he was certain of it, why would he be teaching in Hogwarts instead of playing? Maybe his career had hit the rocks or something? It would not be something that Donnie would ask the Professor about if he ever had a chance.

Donald did detect the disinterest in the older girls voice and wondered if he should continue in conversation with her or just leave her to it. In the end he decided to persevere and carry on the conversation with the 7th year. Besides having a big sister meant that he was use to girls showing indifference towards the things he was saying at times. His sister sometimes had a cold tone in her voice so it was certainly something the youngster was use to. Maybe that influenced his decision to continue regardless.

”You are not a fan of quidditch I take it?” he asked @sophie2. Donnie gathered that from her comment about flying inflating his head. Although the 3rd year did wonder if he was inferring too much from that comment of hers.

Bat looked around the Great Hall with wide eyes, smile stretching broadly across his face. The ceiling, as always, was magnificent- the decorations no less so. Hogwarts was certainly magical, he mused as he took a seat across from a 3rd year boy and smiled at his Housemates. There was really no other word for what the castle stood for.

The Sorting Hat broke into song, and the person on his right side cheered, jostling Bat's arm and sending his glasses flying. Unfortunately, that rendered him blind as his animal namesake, and he spent most of the song not listening, but patting the table and hoping he could find his glasses before a pie materialized on top of them.

Finally, when he did, the song was over and people started to chatter. Bat devoted himself to serving food, picking food that reminded him of home, and was happily tucking in when the third year piped up about the staff table. He spun, brow furrowed, and looked- he wasn't a Quidditch fan but certainly appreciated watching the sport- and when he turned back, the boy was being given a tongue lashing from a girl nearby. Bat frowned. He knew that some of his Housemates were eccentric - this girl, Cecilia, was certainly one of them - but that didn't mean they had to be mean.

Bat scooted in closer to the two. "Keep an open mind," he suggested lightly, giving a wide, guileless smile. "There's no need to dismiss someone's passions just because they aren't yours. I'm sure you have passions that other people don't like." Bat shared a look with the boy- was it Donald? He should start figuring that out, if he was a Prefect now- and then added, "'Sides, can't hurt to imagine!"

With that done, Bat leaned in towards the younger boy, adjusting his glasses on his nose so they didn't fall into a dish of beets. "Do you play?" he asked, leaving the option for the girl get back to her solitude, if that was what she would prefer.

________
Donald Westwood, @sophie2

Cecilia narrowed her eyes when Bartholomew Caldeira decided to interrupt the conversation. She would have been glad if it was to take the boy off her hands but his first words were directed at her. She raised a brow when he told her to keep an open mind and that she was 'dismissing' someone else's passion. "As ill of a trait for a Prefect to interrupt someone else's conversation, I wasn't dismissing HIS passion. I was agreeing with HIS fact that I am no fan of the sport as I do not see its value. Before that, I was asking him HOW he even came to the conclusion before agreeing with his fact, Prefect Caldeira." She said, coldly yet stoic as she moved to turn back to her dinner when the insolent prefect turned his attention to the kid. Now that Donald Westwood had someone to speak with, it would make him stop talking to her... hopefully.

Every year for the past five years of her life, Liza had sat at the Gryffindor table watching the first years being sorted. The year before that, she had been one of the terrified eleven year olds, staring up at the floating candles and bewitching, realistic night sky where the roof should have been. This year, she sat at Gryffindor table for the last time. She watched the sorting for the last time. Listened to the hat's song for the last time. And for the first time, she sat at the Hogwarts welcome feast as both Head Girl and Quidditch Captain. She was shocked that she had received both. She had half expected Wolf, idiot though he may be, to get Quidditch captain, and she was certain there were loads of others much more suited to the role of Head Girl than her. But nevertheless, she had received both titles, and once again she felt a rush of gratitude towards the headmistress. As the sorting progressed, Liza hollered and whooped alongside Madi and her other fellow Gryffindors each time a new firstie joined their table - once again fully aware that it would be her last time doing so. When the sorting was over, Minnie (Elizabeth idly wondered who on earth had given the woman that nickname) let them eat, and Madison Kingsley , beside her, dove in like it was her last meal. Elizabeth, finally torn out of her nostalgic phase, grinned, and began to pour food onto her own plate. While she was thin, she had an appetite that could rival most. Onto her plate went four potatoes, five lamb chops, three bread rolls, a bowl of soup, a pile of wedges, an assortment of vegetables, two sausages and a bit of roast chicken. If she was being honest, she only stopped there because there was no room left on her plate. As she began her meal, Madi began the conversation.

"Amazing," Liza replied after swallowing a mouthful of potatoes. "I didn't expect either. I thought Wolf" -she nodded her head in the general direction of the arrogant seventh year- "wold get captain. And there are so many people better suited to Head Girl. I'm worried. What if I screw up or something? And captain - what if I'm not good at it? What if we lose because of me? I want Gryffindor to win, and if we don't you'll all blame me." Liza wasn't usually one to complain, but she was genuinely worried that she would lead Gryffindor to failure. She had been certain that Wolf would get Captain, and totally hadn't prepared herself for it.

"And did you hear Minnie's gonna make everyone try out this year?" She asked. "I mean, not me obviously. But you, and Wolf and Jasmine and everyone else. It's stupid. They should only hold tryouts for the places we need. Jasmine's an amazing keeper, there's no way we're getting rid of her. And you and Wolf, much as I hate to give him any praise whatsoever, make the best beating team." She smiled at her friend. She was fully confident in Madi, and her friend was an excellent beater. "The full team try-outs are kinda redundant, in my opinion." What was the point if she was simply going to reinstate the amazing team from last year, plus one or two for the departing seventh years.

Liza paused at Madi's question, not really wanting to answer. She trusted the headmistress to keep them safe, and she was adamantly against the discrimination against werewolves. But her friend had been attacked by one, and how could Liza promise safety when the girl had already witnessed exactly how unsafe werewolves could be? "I—" Liza took bite out of a sausage. "I– I dunno. I reckon that Minnie wouldn't have hired him if he was dangerous. Maybe he's got it under control? Maybe he's safe - docile." Liza grinned, reaching very hard for an attempt at a joke. "Really. McGonagall'd never put the students at risk." Would she? Liza wondered at the back of her mind, but she pushed the thought away. She had faith in the headmistress. She couldn't start doubting Hogwarts as well as the Ministry, or she'd never be able to trust anyone.

Don couldn’t help but wonder if he somehow offended the older girl with his conclusion. It did seem like a perfectly logical explanation to her comments and her apparent contempt for quidditch players. ”Well...it was just the way you talked about the player. Saying that all the flying must have inflated his head. I am not sure that a quidditch fan would not have used quiet those words...” he said slightly meekly. He was over analysing what the girl said? Perhaps he should apologise to her? Still her words seem to indicate he was right. The 13 year old was preparing to both defend his explanation as to why he thought that and go on to a probably apology fit as his sister called them when his housemate decided to confirm what he deduced.

The youngster was slightly taken aback by her response about why she didn’t like it. The 7th year lass gave a rather comprehensive, no holds barred, response as to why she didn’t enjoy the sport. The 13 year old thought briefly and opened his mouth to give a retort to Ceilla when another older boy intervened.

Donnie looked at Bartholomew Caldeira as he spoke urging the girl to keep an open mind. @sophie2 didn’t seem too happy with Bat when he interrupted, probably at the suggest that she was not open minded. In the 3rd year’s opinion that was one of the most provocative things that could be said of a Ravenclaw. The young lad chewed his lip slightly hoping that a fight would not break out between the pair. However it seemed save.

The Welsh wizard turned his attention to the prefect, deciding it was probably best to leave the 7th year to her own devices for the time being. Although he did make a mental note to try to talk to her again later. She did seem...interesting in a way. ”I do play. I am going to try out for the Ravenclaw team this year...” he said rather excitedly with his south Wales valleys accent shining through very much. ”....I am hoping to be the team’s seeker.” he concluded , his voice still lilting lyrically as he spoke. ”How about you? Do you play?” he asked the 6th year rather eagerly. Donald was very glad to have someone to talk to who actually wanted to listen to him.

Madi raised an eyebrow, doing her best to looked shocked. “Did the head girl just give me permission to cause trouble? Blimey. What is this school coming to?” A grin broke out across her face as her feeble attempt at looking serious finally faltered. They had been friends long enough for Madison to know the drill. Trouble was fine so long as it was discreet. And nobody got hurt. Basically as long as Liza has plausible deniability. The idea of helping one friends gang up on another probably shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was. But loyal as Wolf’s little band of pranksters might be, there was also an understanding that those bonds could be broken in a heartbeat for the thrill of the punchline. “You know I’m in. But you sure you want to start that? He might declare all-out war.” And while Madison might love the idea of an epic prank battle, the rest of the school might not appreciate being collateral.

Liza definitely had a point. Their team was pretty solid. Why even bother trying out for the last chaser position? Although she doubted Minnie would buy into that logic. Something about giving everyone a fair chance. “We could always put Smudge on the team just so the spot’s full.” The idea of the cat hissing angrily at whoever had managed to trap him on a hovering broom was enough to make Madison chuckle. She took a bite of a roll as Liza brought up the Hufflepuff captain. “He is pretty good on a broom. Guess you’ll just have to be better.” She smiled confidently over at Liza, giving her best friend a friendly nudge with her elbow.

All this talk of werewolves was making Madison uncomfortable. But Liza knew just how to salvage the conversation. The thought of Quidditch and pranks definitely lifted Madi’s spirits a bit. The mention of having to take points away even caused her to crack a tiny smile. “Boatloads.” Especially if the incident on the train was any indication. At the rate things were going, Wolf’s little crew was pretty much guaranteed to be in detention before the week was out.

The brief rise in tone didn’t last long. Madi rearranged the insides of her potato a bit more with her fork while Liza thought over her question. The answer that came was probably meant to be satisfying. And maybe a few weeks ago it would’ve been. But right now it did little to calm Madi’s sudden anxiety. She picked up a roll and started tearing off small pieces of bread to give the emotion an outlet. Liza clearly wasn’t going to be shaken out of her usual optimism. And the fact that they didn’t see eye to eye on something that suddenly meant so much to Madison was a little unnerving, to be honest. “Can we talk about something else?” She glanced up toward the staff table and then back at her plate with its growing pile of torn off bits of bread. “What about the other new staff? You heard anything interesting about any of them?”