Hogwarts Opening Feast 1996-1997, (ISO: EVERY STUDENT)

[RacewalkerHobbitTricia]

It was approximately an hour before the Hogwarts Opening Feast of 1996-1997 was supposed to commence, and there were just four people in the Great Hall: the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Wayne Rollins, and the Potions Master, Severus Snape. The Great Hall was set up as it was every day, but of course, today was a special occasion due to te arrival of the students. At that very moment, the students were disembarking from the Hogwarts Express. The gamekeeper, Hagrid, was leading the first-years to the boats, while the older students were climbing onto the carriages which navigated via magic. Professor McGonagall was running over te usual little speech which she greeted te first-years with.

Albus Dumbledore's ancient face vividly displayed the fact that he was deep in thought. Dumbledore was not only plotting out the feast for today, he was musing about opening feasts past, and previous school years.

There was a reason to be deep in thought after all- a second war had commenced. Muggles had been killed and tortured over the summer, as the Daily Prophet had revealed. Oh, yes... the Ministry had finally come around; they were no longer trying to delude both themselves and the public. Last June had offered undebatable proof to Cornelius Fudge. It was just a pity that Sirius Black had died in the Department of Mysteries, courtesy of the combination of Bellatrix Lestrange and the arch of death. And the most onerous burden had been placed on the Potter boy's shoulders. It was done.

Dumbledore lifted one of his frail wrists, and surveyed the gold watch on it. There were many strange runes on it, but he understood every one of them.

"Minerva, it is time. Go and fetch the first years." Dumbledore said. As McGonagall left, he raised is wand, and all the entrances to te Great Hall sprrang open, waiting to admit the older students.

[Hermione Granger]

Hermione waltzed into the Great Hall ahead of her companions. Ron and Harry were most likely discussing Quidditch or something. Hermione beemed as she gave a cheery little wave towards the Professors at the staff table. She sat down at her usual seat at the Gryffindor table, anxious for the others to get here so they could have some semblance of conversation.

Just then, a rather terrifying thought hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. This was her sixth year. Her second to final year. And next year... She had a chance to become Head Girl! That meant, if she ever wanted the priveledge, she'd have to study twice as hard, and do a whole bunch more extra credit. And if possible, never get another detention as long as she lived.

[Cathy]

Draco sauntered into the Great Hall. He noticed the mudblood, and the way she looked at the teacher. It made his skin crawl. She treated them like gods, acting like some slave of a bloody slave. He looked away before he hexed her.

He sat down at his own House table. He was going to have to show the stupid first years to the Slytherin Dungeons too... oh how he hated the first day. The only exception was that the first day had good food. He hoped that Dumbledor wasn't going to make some long silly speach about safety and staying on the Right Side. Dumbledor could go jump. Draco wasn't about to join the 'right' side. Magic was a gift, a power. Not something to be hidden and considered shamefull.

He pulled out his wand and started adding to the hole he'd be burning since first year. Of course, the tables were magical and while they were grafiti covered, it was neer-on imposible to get more than a centimiter deep. They were fireproofed and made of wood so old it was nearly rock. Draco had two more years left, and he was going to make his mark. In more than one way.

[Harry Potter]

Harry walked into the great hall and felt a surge of familiarity and pride.
Home, he was home.
His thoughts were broken as his skin crawled uncomfortably. Glancing distractedly over his shoulder, he caught a glimse of the teacher's table before directing his attention to Hermione's back. He had a sinking feeling that all the teachers had their eyes focused on him. Especially Dumbledoor.
Ingoring the eyes upon him, Harry followed Hermione through the rows of benches and tables with Ron beside him. They were quiet, finding themselves without any topic of conversation as Harry was lost in his thoughts.
Harry sat himself down comfortably between Hermione and Ron, staring up at the colorful banners above him. His eyes drifted to the Proffesser's table again, but he forced them in the opposite. Like a magnet, he immediatly focused in on Draco Malfoy, one of the people Harry was not looking forward to seeing right now.
Turning to a starry-eyed Hermione, he tried to think of somthing un-stupid sounding to say to break the awkward silence.
"You're thinking about homework again, arn't you?"

[Hermione Granger]

"No!" Lied Hermione, "You have no faith in me what-so-ever to think about something OTHER than homework!" Hermione sighed and took a deep breath. No need to get worked up. "I was thinking about how this is our second to last year. Thinking about how odd it'll be when we don't have to go here every day. And mainly, I'm thinking that I'm worried about your sanity."

Yes, it may not have been the best thing to say to a boy who'd basically been called insane by the Daily Prophet, only to prove them wrong. Prove them wrong in such a sad and disasterious way... "I can't wait for the feast to start," Hermione said hastily, worried that Harry'd yell at her or something for her previous comment.

[Harry Potter]

Harry felt like he'd just flown a broom into a brick wall. His mouth dropped shut, and his eyes traveled down to focus on his empty plate in front of him.
Worried about his sanity?
He'd known they were all thinking it, of course. But he never thought Hermione would openly throw it in his face.
I knew they'd worry.
Pushing a hand through his hair, Harry faught against the surge of anger boiling inside of him at Hermione's comment. He wanted to push his bench back, stand up, and yell at her. Yell at everyone. They didn't know what they were talking about. Who were they to talk about him? Swallowing the heavy lump in his throat, Harry felt his rush of anger subside, leaving him with a cold, empty feeling. What if he was going crazy? Crazy Potter, with delusions of grandure.
I can see the Daily Prophet articles now.
Harry looked up at the Banners once again, but they seemed to flutter in the nonexsitant breeze eerily now. The Griffindor lion seemed to smirk directly at him. A glance up at the table prooved the Teachers whispereing softly amung themselves.
The heavy doors to the Great Hall seemed so inviting. What Harry would give right now to be able to bolt through those doors...
"Yes. The feast." The words seemed stiff and unnatural even to Harry's ears. He veered away from the previous subject his friend had just casually brushed past.

[Hermione Granger]

"Harry," Hermione started, biting her lip, now realizing how incredibly stupid she was. "I'm sorry. I-- I didn't mean it. All I ment was that..."
What do I mean?
"I wasn't thinking. At all. I'm such an idiot," Hermione looked down meekly. Boys were such fickle creatures. You could never tell what was going on in their head. Sometimes they could be daydreaming when you're thinking they're paying attention... Or was that called fantasizing about... thinks... Hermione didn't exactly want to think about Harry or Ron doing that while she was talking.

How many times had she said something like this before? Countless times, completley ignoring Harry's feelings. It was meant to be helpful. Not hurtful. But often times those two mixed, and out came this awful and pathetic attempt. Hermione often said such stupid, bold things that got her into trouble with her friends. Saying blunt things to Ron to piss him off, or anything like that. It was turning into a bad habit.

I'm such an idiot. Hermione thought for the millionth time that moment.

((Ride's here! Gotta get to school.))

[Harry Potter]

"I wonder whose teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts this year?" Harry asked, his voice mechanical and slightly higher pitched then normal. Mentally, he kicked himsef repeatedly for how immature he was being.
She's sorry, you blundering idiot, she's appologising!
Harry found himself skirting the whole conversation, and making a sloppy change of conversation. He wanted to comfort Hermione and tell her not to worry, but Harry himself was deep in an ocean of insecurity.
He didn't know how he was going to sane this year. He hadn't admited it to anyone, and just recently acknowledged it to himself, but with Sirius gone he wasn't sure he would make it through. A gaping whole had opened itself in his chest, and Harry felt pits of his soul seeping through. He had been to young to miss his parents. He now knew what it felt like to lose someone close to you.

[Hermione Granger]

"Oh..." Hermione's face fell. Either Harry was just being fickle, or very confused. Most likely a bit of both. "Yes, I do want to know. I hope it's someone in the Order," Hermione dropped her voice so no one over heard. "It would be brilliant if Lupin came back. Or Tonks would be good too, but I don't quite know how much learning we'd actually get done," she smiled weakly at Harry, trying to cheer him up.

Glancing around the hall, trying to get her mind off of stupidity and all things such, her eyes fell on one of her favorite people in the entire world. Draco Malfoy. With his father in Askaban, Malfoy was probably under a lot of pressure, and all sorts of that un-pleasent things. Half of her wanted to say 'Serves him right!' but that was just a mean and nasty thing to do, and Hermione wanted nothing to do with that. No matter how much she hated Malfoy.

"Who do you think'll be Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione asked Harry, bringing his question back to him.

((Tricia, who is going to be the new DADA teacher? And could we possibly get a Ron appearance? Not to be annoying, but it would be good for him to get in on this conversation.))

[RacewalkerHobbitTricia]

(OOC: The new DADA professor is...Nymphadora Tonks! She is now working /two/ jobs! And now, for Tricia to thoroughly butcher Ron and reveal exactly why she generally plays only original characters...)

Ron Weasley drew level to the Gryffindor table and his two best friends just in time for his auditory senses to discern Hermione's inquiry about the DADA Professor's identity. Quite naturally, he noticed, to his distaste, that the food was not out yet. Bah. He was so utterly famished that his stomach was practically digesting itself.

"I personally am quite optimistic about this year. After all.. what could possibly be worse than that old hag we were all stuck with last year?" Ron said, attempting to put on a chipper countenance because Hermione and Harry were looking downcast. But then... everybody looked melancholic as of late. Including Ron. Today, he was just... in the mood to endeavor to forget.

"When do you reckon the food will be ready?

[RacewalkerHobbitTricia]

(OOC: Now entering one of my OOC characters. Meet Toni! Related to each other, and no relation to Jeanie over on Erised. Yes, I /do/ like the surname Trotter.)

Having finally reached her destination of the Great hall, Toni Trotter was more than pleased to detach herself from the masses and assume a seat at the ravenclaw table, as far detached from everybody as she could possibly go. Detached... exactly the way she liked it. Toni had utilized her physical size in order to progress quickly. Her physical size was... diminutive, to say the very least. At 65 pounds and standing at a mere 5'1", Toni was not exactly one who required the utilization of a large amount of space.

Settling in her seat, Toni assumed her typical countenance of inapproachability. Her eyebrows were knitted almost into a frown, and her bony arms were folded against her chest as the skinny girl rested her arms on the table, patiently awaiting the Sorting that was to occur before she could commence stuffing her face. Generally, Toni did not have the patience for such things, but this year she could wait. Her young cousin Jared Eades,her first cousin on her father's side, was starting his first year at Hogwarts.

Lucky bastard.. he missed out on Umbridge, Toni thought, scowling at the mere /memory/ of the evil wench that had been inflicted upon the students the previous job. Thanks to her lousy teaching Toni had only scored an A on the DADA O.W.L. Up until last year, she had averaged between E and O. Damn her and her vendetta against using wands in class.. what the bloody hell was that all about anyway?

Her huge dark brown eyes scanned the Hall and settled on Harry Potter, seated two House tables away. Maybe he would know something? yes, yes, Toni had to admit to herself that he and his friends seemed to know a LOT... as she also heard from her Davus Trotter on a regular basis- but she could never approach him. Never. Hell bloody no. It wasn't the insinuations against his sanity- no, Toni had never bought them. She just had other.... reasons. all the same, she could not help but give the gryffindor in her year a long, speculative stare before realizing what she was doing and quickly diverted her eyes. Bloody hell, if someone had looked at /her/ that long she would have very quickly given them the sharp edge of her potent tongue! She was notorious in her year to be bitchy thus. Nope, Toni was no Slytherin wannabe or future Death Eater.... but she was not exactly what one might call a friendly, affable character either.

[Hermione Granger]

((Yes! I knew it was Tonks!))

"We could have some other famed dark wizard, possibly. Or Snape. You know how he's been after the position for forever. And it's always a possibility, if he's kept applying."

Hermione turned to look at Ron and sighed. "You're always thinking about food, aren't you? Just like a Hobbit," she shook her head, knowing that Ron could never possibly know what a Hobbit was. However, at that presise moment, Hermione realized that she was hungry. Curse the irony of it.


Ron could be such an idiot at times, but he had an excuse... Didn't he? He didn't have an excuse to be naieve ((Sp?)) about Wizarding affairs, which he most certainly wasn't. Ron was smart, Hermione had decided long ago, but she just didn't know how.

Hermione pushed back her bushy brown hair behind her ears. Her hair had become less bushy, but was still a neusance. Curse it.

((Ten bucks that Snape's DADA in the last book.))

[Cathy]

((Make it $20, heeee.... SNAPE....., okay, so I just watched Galaxy Quest....))

Draco looked around the hall. It was loud. Anoyingly so. He frowned and looked towards the teacher's table. There were a few empty seats. He noticed that his Head of House had taken up his usual chair. Draco smiled. He didn't mean it. Somehow, even though his father and Snape were old friends, he felt that there was something strange between them.
Draco pushed thoughts of his father to the back of his mind. He was here to study, and to keep up apperances. He sighed inwardly, and picked up his fork. It was silver, well polished. The Hogwarts crest was stamped in the handle. He turned it over. It was old, and reminded him of the silverwear at home. This looked like it had been through a few more battles than that emblezoned with the Malfoy crest. There was something scratched on the back. It was very faint, but if he held it like <i>that</i>, letting the light catch it, he could see. It was a name. 'Black'. An old pure-blood family. Now, unfortunately all dead. He traced over the letters with his finger. The name sounded... of course. Now he remembered. The Azkaban escapee. The traitor, who ended up dead.
<i>Blood Traitor</i>
The words pounded through his head. Memories of childhood filled his mind. His father. Yelling about something. He didn't remember what. But he remembered those words. Those words that, in themselves, ment so little. It was how his father said it, as if they had commited the most henious crime. Blood traitor...

[Harry Potter]

Harry snorted at Hermione's Hobbit comment. He was fully aware that Ron didn't know what was going on, and the familiar banter between the two eased Harry comfortably back into a sense of normalicy.

"Don't worry, Ron, the food'll come soon." Harry reasurred his friend, his voice full of genuine teasing. He was fully prepared to put previous events behind him, at the moment.

"I dunno, I guess the defence teacher could possibly be another ministry member." Harry felt no spark of sadness or regret at the memory of Umbridge. Instead, he felt only anger at her past endevours, and satisfaction at her end. "Hope it's Lupin."

[RacewalkerHobbitTricia]

Ron shook his head when Hermione made the Hobbit comment, dismissing her comment with a grin and a roll of his green eyes.... he just couldn't help wondering what the bloody hell a hobbit was. Wasn't it some sort of midget?

"I think I'm a smidge too tall for a hobbit." With his response, Ron was quite effective at masking his bewilderment about what a hobbit was. But before Hermione could so much as contemplate the fact that she had guessed wrong, betrayed his lack of knowledge on the existence of Tolkien's trilogy by inquiring, "What are Hobbits... is that something Luna Lovegood has come out with?"

[Pansy Parkinson]

((Sorry, guys. Am posting, finally. Blame the, oh, FOURTEEN assignments I have due, of which I've finished only about seven.))

Pansy strolled into the Great Hall, scanning the handful of people already seated for someone suitable to sit beside. She wrinkled her nose when she realised that Draco was the only Slytherin there, but went over to sit beside him anyway.
"Draco!" she cooed, moving so she was far too close to him for either of their comfort; she hated this farce every bit as much as Draco did, but if she didn't play her role someone was sure to comment to somebody else, word would get back to her mother that her Dear Daughter was Behaving Funny, and then she'd get another one of those lectures, about blood and a woman's role and submission, which she'd really rather not hear yet again. Telling Pansy about blood was just preaching to the choir, and as for her mother's nonsense about a woman's place, and about letting Daddy pick a good man for her - well. She was Pureblood, born into power. Why should she let herself be forced into a cage? Save that for Muggle-lovers and Mudbloods.
"Have you heard who will be the next Defence professor, darling? Pity the last one had to go; she was a puffed-up toadying idiot, but she had the right ideas about a couple of things." Smiling maliciously, Pansy let her gaze trail pointedly over to where Potter was sitting with his friends. "I'm sure with your sources, you might have a better idea than most. " She simpered up at Draco, for once genuinely interested in what he might have to say.

[Cathy]

(((Much appreciation Malting)))

Once Pansy's actions would have made Draco jump. Now, he had learnt to accept them as part of life. Draco put his fork down. He leaned over, gently resting himself on his arm.

"Ah," he said, in very friendly tones, "Pansy dear, so nice to see you. I am afraid, I have little information. I am lead to belive that this year we will be having a new teacher. Someone else from the Ministry. Don't raise your hopes though." Then he added, in a whisper in her ear "Mother said its another rotten half-blood."

He sat up a little, and continued, "Let us hope our studies are not so disrupted this year." He gave her a conspiriting sort of wink, and moved his arm closer to her. Anyone missing the wink could have taken the sentace at face value. The sort second-cousins-twice-removed that liked to write rolls and rolls about the tinyest thing back to their parents would of course have taken it to mean that Pansy and Draco had spent hours in the Library behind forgoten shelves making out. Pansy would know that it ment some thing more like 'I got another lecture from my mother'.

How he loathed this charade.

[Hermione Granger]

"Never mind, Ron," Hermione said, laughing slightly. The boy was helpless. She dismissed the Luna comment and instead turned back to Harry. "If it is a Ministry member, they better know what they're talking about. I couldn't stand another year learning apsolutley nothing, like with that Umbridge.... Woman," Hermione finally settled on that insult, not wanting to say anything too strong. She had never been too found of swearing, which was seemingly odd for a fifteen-almost-sixteen-year-old-girl like herself. Indeed, nineteen days untill Hermione was sixteen, and she was rather excited. Her birthday had never been a big deal at the castle, which she didn't mind. Her parents sent her presents, and Harry and Ron got her something. It was all very simple and rather nice.

"Did they ever find out what happened to her?" Hermione said with a glint in her eye. "I'm wondering if she even made it out of the Forbidden Forest alive..." It was a down right awful thing to say, and rather morbid too. But it was a question worth answering, and would probably get Ron and Harry to go off on a tangent about how awful that woman was. Which she herself would most likely take part in. After all, a large part of getting rid of her had been thanks to Hermione. It was her idea after all, to lead Umbridge into the forest to see Gwap. And she got to hone her acting skills, which she didn't have that many of. Ah, yes, such good times followed by such terrible times.

[Harry Potter]

Harry smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "No. She didn't make it out alive. We would have heard from her if she had." His words were cold, and his tone biting. "We could always reinstate the DA if we had to, if the teacher this year was horrible. But I'm resigning as head. You or Ron can take over, Hermione."

Resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward, Harry rubbed his eyes with his palms. He was tired; he was always tired these days. Perhaps him not sleeping very well had somthing to do with it.

Brilliant, Harry. Really. Bloody brilliant, you are.

Staring back up at the house banners, Harry focused on the imitation night sky above him. The stars flickered, and Harry watched, momentarily entranced, as a shooting star flew above. A mist of a cloud slid over the moon, but it shone brightly through.

When did the world leave me behind?

[Hermione Granger]

Hermione looked down at the table in a silent moment of silence for the "dearly" departed Umbridge. Turning to Harry, she spoke, "But you're the only one for the job!" Hermione protested, looking at Harry as though he had just suggested that Dumbledore had two heads. "We wouldn't know half the things to say, or do, or anything! Don't you agree, Ron?" Hermione turned sharpley to Ron, awaiting his reply.

Ron was being awfully silent, which was a definatly something different. Hermione looked at the staff table, trying to tell when the first years would be sorted, Dumbledore to make his speech, everyone to eat so Hermione could go back to her dorm and fall asleep. She had gotten up a tad bit to early that morning on accident. Crookshanks and spilled a potted plant in her room and she was forced to clean it. It took a bit longer than she had anticipated, so she had a small amount of sleep. And it was taking it's toll on her, slowly.