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Slytherin House Table

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Tybalt Groves

It was dinner time, a week from the interesting Defense Against the Dark Arts class that had left Tybalt Groves questioning his professor’s sanity. After attending three lessons taught by out of character professors the Slytherin had come to the conclusion that something fishy was going on at Hogwarts. He’d heard faint mutterings of a seventh year prank but that had not yet been confirmed at least to the boy’s knowledge.

 

Needless to say it was with the upmost amount of hesitation that Tybalt sat down with his fellow Slytherins at a seat closest to the head table. The Trimble he knew would not care for food being thrown at his face but Tybalt, being a fan of house points an extra credit, could not help but think that maybe that was what Trimble wanted him to think. Maybe this was some twisted lesson on constant vigilance in the form of expecting the unexpected which, in this case, would be Trimble’s craving for a pastry to the face.

 

This entire course of events was driving the Slytherin to the brink of insanity. Lost in thought the twelve year-old shoveled food into his mouth at a brisk pace despite wanting time to halt instead of accelerate. At the same time his eyes roved the hall searching for any sign of a first year uprising. As it would figure there were a handful of Gryffindors grabbing whatever food they could lay their hands on and slinking towards Trimble at the head table. Tybalt hoped that the group didn’t believe they weren’t being suspicious because they certainly were. Pressing yourself against the wall of the hall didn’t create an allusion of innocence.

 

But this could be the perfect opportunity for some sneaking around of his own. Taking advantage of the awkward form of inconspicuousness that was Gryffindor first years Tybs spooned out a glob of mashed potatoes into his hand and excused himself from the table. He walked to the front of the hall and made to go visit a Hufflepuff where he stopped at the beginning of their table. The food flew from the Gryffindors’ chubby fists at that moment and, in shock, the entire hall turned their heads in the direction of the clump of students.

 

Seeing his chance Tybs reared back his arm and flung the potatoes towards Trimble hitting not only his target but also spraying several other professors on the way. Tybalt stuffed his hands into his pockets before ambling towards the door in desperate need of a change of clothes. He didn’t care to smell potatoes for the rest of the night.

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Lisa Knox

Lisa blinked. Now this was surprise Micah wasn't doing anything. AT ALL. No yelling no slapping her hand, or saying something rude. Well that was a surprise maybe Micah finally realised Lisa's amazingness, and started respecting her? Fat chance but a girl could dream couldn't she? Lisa grabbed the bacon, and put it on her own plate. She didn't grab much just four pieces out of the like TEN Micah had on her plate. God what a flippen food hog, it was no wonder she had no friends, at least not any that Lisa knew.

 

She grabbed one of the pieces of bacon and shoved it in her mouth. Still nothing from Micah. It was like a miracle she was quiet for once. Lisa continued to chew on her food. The bacon was great she didn't blame Micah for trying to hog it all. Then Micah finally said something. Lisa gulped down her bacon. The girl just had to talk didn't she? What did she mean by disturbed her. Lisa raised an eye brow at her.

 

“You do know that all the food on your plate came from one plate that people picked food off of right?” she answered back. “So I don't really understand how that would disturb you when you do it all the time, and so does everyone else?” Lisa rolled her eyes at the girl. She was denser than a sack of coal.

 

“Besides, you took all the bacon. I doubt you were going to eat all that, so I relived some of it for you.” she snickered while putting a cocky grin on her face. It was funny how Micah never made any sense, and Lisa did. Why do you need all of that bacon? And you share plates with people all the time. Funny how Micah never picked that up huh. Lisa guessed it took a real disturbing person to get it, well disturbing in Micah's world. Lisa grabbed another piece of Bacon off her plate, and shoved it in her mouth. She wanted to finish them before Micah got any ideas.

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Nick Westbrook

Nick was feeling pretty good about himself. After all, he had just flown for the first time all year down on the Quidditch pitch, and he had impressed even himself. All those workouts with his older cousins, and the summer league he played in, must have really paid off. Because Nick has managed to cut his time from goalpost to goalpost down by a whole second and a half! Sure, a lot of that had to do with him being a year older and larger, but it was impressive nonetheless. And when Tristan and Stela saw? They were going to have no choice but to run the offense through the twelve-year old speedster.

 

Riding high on confidence, Nick swept into the Great Hall, wind-blown hair strayed across his forehead and goggles hung around his neck. One thing that didn’t change from last year was the fact that flying always caused Nick to work up quite an appetite. And there was a DELICIOUS looking treacle tart with his name on it over at the Slytherin table.

 

Nick’s eyes absolutely lit up, and the young boy made a beeline for the delectable pastry, goggles bouncing and robes swishing all across the Great Hall. As soon as he reached his destination, the ravenous Ravenclaw swooped in and plucked the tart right off the table. Nick began to take a bite, and… oh. Oh dear. What was this now? Nick suddenly became aware that, indeed, there were other people sitting at the Slytherin table. Specifically, there was a girl sitting right where Nick’s snack used to be. A girl who, based on Nick’s observation, seemed to be older than he was.

 

Nick had often heard stories about different groups of people. He had heard things about older kids. He had heard things about Slytherins. And yes, he had heard things about girls. All of this knowledge combined to make Nick realize that the older Slytherin girl in front of him could possibly be VERY, VERY dangerous. And he had just gone and plucked a tart that may or may not have been hers (oh, how Nick hoped it wasn’t hers) right off of the table.

 

It was at this point that Nick realized he had been staring at this girl with a treacle tart in his mouth for quite some now. As the young Ravenclaw’s face began to redden, he quickly finished biting down and took the tart out of his mouth. Oh, it was delicious. But she couldn’t know that!

 

“Oh! I, uh, yeah, about that… Did you…? I mean, this wasn’t yours, was it? I’m sorry! It uh, it tastes horrible. Yeah. Horrible.”

 

Real smooth, Nick. Real smooth.

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Micah Cassidy

"Oh, sod off, Lisa." Micah was really fed up with even looking at Lisa. That girl was good for absolutely nothing. Kind of like war. Unnh! War! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing.

 

She slid down away from Lisa, content to leave her housemate to eat by herself. Micah just wanted to be sure to get out of the Great Hall before Anna Lizzerd showed up. She'd join Lisa and the two of them would have a field day making fun of her. Sometimes it was just tiring have to defend herself all the time. Finally, she had a bit of piece and quiet with which to eat and study. She propped a book open on her lap and began piling things carefully on her plate.

 

And just when she was about to reach for a particularly scrumptious looking treacle tart, a dirty hand came out of nowhere and snatched it right up. As normal, Micah recoiled at the uncleanliness of the hand. She scrunched her nose up and curled her toes inside her mules. Honestly, was she the only one who washed her hands ten times a day and applied sanitizer almost double that?

 

Oh, wait.

 

Micah looked up at the owner of the hand and raised an eyebrow. He was wearing Quidditch gear. That would explain it - but how hard was it to wash up a bit before dinner and take off the ridiculous goggles, even if they were just around his neck? And how about using a comb, hmm? Then she noticed he looked a bit like her brother, which was not only disturbing...it was almost like Frankie was already here, at Hogwarts, with her. Her heart skipped a bit.

 

"Did you see my name on it? The food is for everyone.." Micah noticed the color of his Quidditch gear. He was a Ravenclaw. "Well, the food on THIS table is for Slytherins, not Ravenclaws." Please, Micah...be a little more snobby. I don't think he got the picture.

Edited by Micah Cassidy

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Nick Westbrook

Thankfully, the girl didn’t seem to be too mad at Nick. However, she made it quite clear that his little old Ravenclaw self was less that welcome at the Slytherin table. Nick realized that she probably had a good point, but the treacle tart seemed so… delicious. And what was so bad about taking one tiny dessert from a different house’s table?

 

The Slytherin girl had made her move. Now it was time for Nick to make his. What to do? Run? There’s no way she could catch Nick if he just took off! No, that would make too much of a scene. Say it was an accident? No, she would never buy that. Erase her memory? Seemed like an interesting idea, but Nick wasn’t sure he could actually pull it off and there were too many witnesses.

 

Suddenly, Nick had an idea. He grinned like a Cheshire cat, realizing that this girl had absolutely no idea who he was! Nick Westbrook would NEVER steal a treacle tart from the Slytherin table… but one Mr. Lyle Anthony Weber Jr. certainly would! …What? There were around a thousand Weber’s running around this school. How was the girl going to know the difference? And Nick knew Miles wouldn’t mind if he claimed to be some sort of distant cousin of his. Perfect! This plan was absolutely fool-proof!

 

“Hey Nick!” said a small voice, as the first year boy who’s bags Nick had helped carry onto the Hogwarts express passed by, stopping only to wave at the older boy before he zoomed off.

 

…Really? Seriously? So much for Nick’s fool proof plan. He helps one kid onto the train, and they come back to stab him in the back like this? That would be the LAST time he went out of his way to help out any first years. Realizing his cover had been blown, Nick knew he had to say something. And all the other options were looking pretty bad. So, Nick decided he was going to wing it.

 

“Yeah, I’m… uh, I’m Nick. Nick Westbrook. Yeah, sorry about that. The uh, the Ravenclaw table is kind of far away, and I… I hurt my leg! Yeah, I hurt my leg playing Quidditch. Yep. I pulled a leg muscle flying and it hurts to walk, so I came over here because it was the first table I saw.”

 

Surprised he was able to pull such a good excuse out of thin air, Nick flashed the girl a somewhat forced smile. Girls were supposed to be sensitive, right? She would have to feel bad about Nick’s “injury,” wouldn’t she?

Edited by Nick Westbrook

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Micah Cassidy

When someone grinned like the Chesire cat, it usually meant they were up to no good, did it not? Micah, understandably, felt uneasy at the boy's expression. She slowly moved her hands from the table and patted her pocket for her wand. Good, it was there. She let her hand rest on the bench next to her. That wya, if he tried anything tricky, she could blast him to Uruguay.

 

Micah eyed the small boy who greeted the tart thief. His name was Nick. It was probably a conspiracy that she knew so many people with names that started with the letter N. Nicodemus, Nico...and now Nick.

 

"You hurt your leg?" She looked down at it skeptically. Maybe it was because he looked like Frankie, but Micah felt sympathetic of his plight. She pushed a plate of the treacle tarts toward him and motioned for him to sit down across from her.

 

It wasn't that she was sensitive, no. Micah defied all laws about how a girl was supposed to act. It was just that he looked so damn much like her little brother, and if he actually was her brother, she would have been out on the pitch WITH him to make sure he hadn't been hurt. And if he had, she'd been the one to yell at whatever or whoever had hurt him, even if had been a thing, not a person.

 

"I'm Micah Cassidy." She said it with an air of importance...as if he should know who she was. And who knows, he might have. Slytherins were a well known bunch. Smirk.

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Nick Westbrook

Oh dear. Now this girl had to go and make Nick feel all bad about himself. She seemed to be genuinely concerned that he might actually be hurt! Weren’t Slytherins supposed to be all callous and mean and not friendly Well, the ones who played Quidditch (and got away with VERY obvious blagging, thank you very much!) certainly were, but apparently some of them were nice people. After all, this girl offered him a whole plate of delicious looking tarts!

 

Nick slowly sat down, making sure not to move too quickly so she wouldn’t catch on. So what if he wasn’t actually in excruciating pain? He was still pretty sore from all that flying. So it’s not like he was really lying or anything, was it? Plus this girl seemed really nice, so maybe Nick was supposed to fib (not lie, fib) so that they could meet!

 

Having thoroughly convinced himself that he was not a bad person, Nick slowly reached for a tart and took a bite. The girl introduced herself as Micah, and Nick thought the name might have sounded a little familiar. Either way, he was now pretty sure Micah wasn’t his age, and she certainly didn’t look like an ickle, so she must have been older.

 

No matter what her age, Nick suddenly felt a surge of confidence. This older Slytherin girl, who only moments ago had seemed absolutely terrifying, no longer seemed so imposing. After taking another bite filled with tarty deliciousness, Nick decided it might be a good idea to sit and stay. After all, his leg was hurt and he couldn’t exactly go sprinting out of the Great Hall, right? Nick put his tart down, brushed his hair out of his eyebrows, and smiled.

 

“So Micah, I thought this food was only for Slytherins? Why the sudden change of heart?”

Edited by Nick Westbrook

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Micah Cassidy

Micah watched every move Nick made. For some reason, she didn't believe that he had really hurt his knee. But if he really had, she'd feel really bad. Only because she was feeling sympathetic. ONLY REASON.

 

She took another treacle tart for herself, poured a goblet half full of juice and took a sip. She eyed him over the rim of the cup and raised an eyebrow. He did look a bit like her brother, with a few differences, now that she saw him close up. Frankie's eyes were narrower and he had Micah's pointy chin and small mouth. Other than that, the hair and coloring was spot on. It was a little bizarre, actually. She supposed it was weird that she thought he was a bit cute, but thought nothing of it at the moment.

 

"Well, there's no use in being mean to strangers, right?" Micah was lying. She usually wasn't nice to people she knew, and was only casually nice to people she did know. Except for Laurie, Terence, Miles, Orson...wow, she had more close friends now than she had had in her entire life. Awesome.

 

"Plus you look like my little brother," she added bluntly, then tore viciously into her treacle tart. "I mean, not much, but if you combed your hair just so..." Micah motioned toward his head. Frankie combed his hair on the side and used water to wet it down. Micah liked to call him Poindexter when he did so, but it was a term of endearment. She found it adorable.

 

"Just don't eat too much of it, yeah?" Micah playfully stuck her tongue out and closed her textbook.

 

"How is Ravenclaw doing? Better than last year, I would hope." She taunted.

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Godric Geoff

Godric walked over to the Slytherin table and took a seat. He glanced over at the Ravenclaw table and saw Sam, why did she get sorted THERE!? During the summer she had been confident that she would be in Slytherin, probably sitting right next to Godric.

 

Godric was happy but yet confused about what the hat had said to him. About, how he bear the name oof one of the house fonder's and then discriminate it. He thought about it for a moment. If his parents had both been in Slytherin why would they name their kid after their enemy? That was definatly a mistery and he didn't really have time to think about it. The Great Hall was pounding with thee noise of children's laughter and chat.

 

Godric glanced around the table. This was going to be a great year, he was at the best place on earth, and he was in the best house on earth. Everything was just right, except he didn't have Sam in the same house as him. What was he going to do about that. He look across the table again, and saw that Saren Dippity girl, she was stunningly pretty, but yet very cruel. But, this was the house for her. Godric's stomach growled and he began to eat the delious feast in front of him.

Edited by Godric Geoff

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Nancy Roberts

Nancy felt in a word, devestated. She hadn't wanted to be in Slytherin. She'd been certain she'd get into Ravenclaw with Sylvia. But now, Sylvia was in Gryffindor and Nancy was in Slytherin. Nancy gently took to the stairs and off the stool. She felt like she was gonna throw up. She took her place at the table. She didn't feel very hungry. But the food smelt lovley.

 

'I don't know why you're fussed. New start.' The voice whispered.

 

For once, Nancy took the voices advice. It was a new year. She would still see Sylvia around. The hat had been sorting people for centuries, it had to be right about her. Giving into her mouth, she helped herself to a huge portion of food. She said to some-one next to her,

"Hi!"

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Nick Westbrook

Oh. No. She. Didn’t.

 

Nick thought it was pretty cool he reminded Micah her of her brother. After all, Nick was an only child and often envied kids who were close to their siblings. But then she had to go and bring up the sorest of all subjects, which was of course last year’s Ravenclaw Quidditch season. Yes, Nick knew the team had accomplished a lot of good things, especially considering how young they were. But he also knew that success was measured in wins and losses, and that Ravenclaw’s less than stellar record had made them quite the laughingstock amongst the other houses.

 

Given Nick’s competitive streak, Ravenclaw’s poor performance in the win column had struck a particularly sensitive chord with him. He hated losing. Hated it. And he hated being reminded of when he lost. So of course Micah had to go and ruin all of the positive vibes he had been feeling after his good practice today by bringing up last year.

 

Although, now that Micah had changed the subject to Quidditch, Nick was presented with an excellent opportunity to talk some smack of his own. And Nick loved getting the last word in almost as much as he hated losing. So now that Micah had gone and opened this can of worms, she was going to hear more about Ravenclaw Quidditch than anyone would ever want to know.

 

“Actually, we’re doing pretty well. And yeah, we’re going to be much better than last year. I mean, we did have one of the youngest teams in Hogwarts history. And we finished pretty close in the cup standings, didn’t we? I mean, if all you other houses were impressed that you beat up on a bunch of little kids, that’s cool. Now that we’re all a year older and more experienced, you guys might want to watch out.”

 

Nick flashed a friendly smile across the table. Yeah, two could play at this game.

 

“Plus, Ravenclaw still has me, don’t they? I played so well as a rookie that they’re getting me much more involved in the offense this year.”

 

Actually, Nick had no clue what kind of offense Ravenclaw was running this year. Or what position he was playing. Or if he was even guaranteed his spot on the team. But Micah didn’t know any of that. And Nick had played really well for a first year, so he wasn’t really lying, was he?

 

“So, is Slytherin ready to step aside this year? You know what they say, out with the old and in with the new!”

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Paddy

((God-modding has been Approved.))

 

Continued from Here.

 

Making his escape from the cat, Paddy had to wonder just how he got himself into this situation. How did a harmless prank go so wrong? Instead of the cat "laughing", it had decided to get it's fur in a bunch and now Paddy was the main course for it. That is if it could catch the lil' leprechaun.

 

Scanning the Great Hall, he saw a perfect way to get off of the floor and maybe even make his escape. But mastering this was going to be somewhat of a problem. Lets pray that she doesn't move before his short legs can make it over to her. Turning his head to see just where the cat was positioned, he couldn't help but snicker as he saw the shoe attached to the cat still and now a house elf had joined the chase. Oh this was getting fun.

 

Paddy made his move with a small grunt as he jumped on a girls head, who had bent down to see what all the commotion was. Hopefully she didn't care that a lil' "green man" was on her head and messing her hair up. But Paddy would rather deal with the human than deal with the evil cat. It had sharp teethies.

 

"Sorry human." He added as he jumped from the girls head to the top of the table. This wasn't going to turn out good. Hundreds of humans all trying to eat with forks and knives...and Paddy being smaller than some of the food they were eating. They could possibly think he was some kind of weird green, dessert.

 

"DON'T EAT ME!!!" He screamed as he started running across the table, avoiding as many plates as possible but accidentally running across a few, even getting his left leg stuck in some white, fluffy stuff. Oh great, now he was stuck. "Hey human! Can you help me out for a second and just pluck my leg out of this white stuff?" he asked hurriedly, "And FAST!"

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Mrs Norris

Oh ho, that miserable wretch of a small green creature was not going to get away with this little stunt, whatever it tried to do. Mrs. Norris was now on a single-minded path of destruction that was, in her mind, going to end with shreds of green flying. The cat let out another howl of anger and a hiss of challenge. Obviously the thing was a wimp, attacking her from behind and then running away instead of taking responsibility. Why couldn't anyone take responsibility in this castle besides her pet and her?

 

Mrs. Norris was fast, but not quite fast enough to overtake the green thing. Luckily for the leprechaun, the shoe that was still flying behind her was slowing her down considerably or otherwise she would've caught it by now. Plates were flying behind her and pipsqueaks were jumping, but she didn't care. By the time the aforementioned thing landed after flying, she was long gone, so there was no chance of it landing on her and that was all she really cared about, after catching the small, offending creature, of course.

 

As the cat chased, she saw the thing jump up. For a moment she lost sight of the creature and let out a very loud, angry hiss of frustration as she continued running ahead. But wait! There it was! The red eyes resumed their focus and the chase was on again.

 

The leprechaun then did something that made the cat hesistate for a moment-it jumped on a table! Now, the cat knew that jumping on the table was strictly forbidden of her, especially when the feast was going on (hence the hesistation), but she was more concerned with catching the creature, so up she went, scattering a few more things and hitting more midgets with the shoe. Stupid shoe!

 

That thing was annoying limber, but thank her lucky catnip that the cat was quite limber herself, more so than her unfortunate target. She managed to leap between all the plates while it managed to get itself stuck in one. Perfect! This was her chance to catch-up, especially with that ground she had lost hesistating. Mrs. Norris let out a yowl to let that creature know that she was still out to get him. Let the fear chill it to its bones!

 

((to here.))

Edited by Mrs Norris

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Finlay Barclay

The cat had taken off after the little green man and Finlay was unable to see where they had gone. He was distracted from them as he loaded his plate with food. There didn't seem to be anyone around that cared if they had seconds or thirds. This wasn't like eating at home at all. He could make a pig of himself if he wanted to. Just as he was about to dig in to the huge pile of mashed potatoes he had put on his plate there was a commotion near him. Suddenly the leprechaun was running right down their table. Goblets of pumpkin juice spilled and the middle of the table ran like a pumpkin juice river. The leprechaun was just mid step through Finlay's plate when he got stuck. The little creature did seem scared for his life. He began to panic and yell for help. Finlay wrenched the little foot out of his mashed potatoes just as the cat leapt onto the table shoe and all.

 

Finlay didn't like cats. His family had tons of cats and he would probably be given a cat if he got a pet at all. He didn't want a cat. He wanted an owl or a hawk. He liked Leprechaun eating cats even less. Finlay tried to grab the cat as it dashed across the table and actually caught hold of the shoe for a moment before it pulled free. "Catch the Cat!" he yelled to his housemates hoping one of them would be able to save the Leprechaun before he became cat chow.

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Nancy Torrent

Nancy hadn't been watching the cat and mouse little green man chase as interestedly as her cousin Finlay had been, but she had noticed, and when a glass of pumpkin juice was overturned, it's orangey liquid bleeding out across the table cloth in her direction she definitely noticed. Jumping up and away from the table in order to save her brand new uniform Nancy scowled at Fin who had somehow ended up with the leprechaun in his hand.

 

She didn't particularly like cats either, but they had practically hundreds of them at home, and she'd seen them eat mice plenty of times so that the sight didn't bother her any more. Really, how much different was a little green man than a little grey mouse? "Ugh." she said, "Jist let th' cat eat it."

Edited by Nancy Torrent

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Phoebe Torrent

Phee saw the cat and Leperchaun chase, and couldn't help but stare, they were running right in front of them. Now Phee had a soft spot for cats, since she had grown up with them all her life. She often wished her daddy would have let her take one of them to school, she had pretended that her cousin Ainsley's cat had been hers on the train, but now that she was in a different house she had no pet. Just before the cat lept after that green thing Phee snatched up the cat, "Oh you poor thing," she coaxed it gently, quickly untieing the shoe caught on her tail. "Who would have done this to you," she sighed trying to cuddle the poor thing, but it was obviously desperate to get that green thing.

 

Phee not knowing what it was, and whether or not to let the cat get it called out to Fin, "well what are you gonna do with that thing?" it was getting harder to hold on to the cat, and he didn't seem to like cuddling.

 

((OOC I hope that was ok to say Mrs. Norris... please let me know if I need to edit it.))

Edited by Phoebe Torrent

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Jodie Jaszczak

What the heck?

 

Jodie wasn't really in a good mood from her summer. Spending months cooped up in a house with six other family members who were all quite annoying could drive one mad. Or angry in Jodie's situation. Especially when they totally didn't understand the awfulness of her being deprived from magic. They did not know how life was with handy spells like Jodie did. They just didn't understand.

 

In fact they really refused too. Her parents had practically asked her to stay home when they dropped her off at the train station. That had left Jodie in such a fowl mood that she didn't even care less for the people she snubbed in the train. Nor did she bad for threatening to set a few ickles on fire when they tried to enter her compartment. Sure, it was a little psycho threat, but it kept them away.

 

It was no surprise then that she sneered, scoffed or scowled at anything said that was even slightly displeasing. This also explained why she was rather irritated by the sight of this green man person and cat in some sort of spat. The second year leaned down to see what the hell was going on.

 

"What the hel--lc" Jodie yelped, trying to make sure not to curse as the thing used her head as some sort of stepping stone onto the table. Delayed by shock for a few seconds, she came back up and lunged to grab the green thing. Damn. Missed. She scowled even more when her arm had landed in some gravy and the elbow on the other arm knocked a pitcher of pumpkin juice over.

 

"Ugh. Forget this." She muttered. Jodie had enough, she was done for the night. The Slytherin stormed out of the Great Hall to a more comforting place. Maybe the dueling chamber was already open.

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Chelsea Marie Blythe

((OOC: So I figured with having been over a month or so since the last post, it would be okay to start it as a new day :) ))

 

Chelsea made her way to the Great Hall, not quite looking forward to the first time she would dine with the rest of the school. She had been overwhelmed by her experience so far. She had arrived in time for her lessons yesterday, and then had spent her entire evening trying to get a good portion of her Herbology make-up work done. Then this morning she had woken up at a ridiculously obsurd hour in order to complete the rest of her make-up work, so that she would at least be caught up in one class. She really was quite displeased with her parents' rash decision to take her and her twin on a trip around the world. They had had so little faith that either of them would get into Hogwarts, and her mother had been only too happy to take them somewhere to 'distract them from not getting it.' No one was more surprised than their mother to return home after months of traveling to find that not only had only Chelsea been accepted, but she had now missed almost her entire first term of school!

 

Chelsea was used to being the best, so this whole playing catch-up thing had her in quite a foul mood. She had done her best to avoid most people she encountered, as she would be in quite an unpleasant mood, and not up to making a terrific first impression. She had spending every spare second that she could in the library, completeing make-up work, and studying like crazy in order to simply pass the upcoming exams that she had't been preparing for all term due to her late arrival to school. However, this morning, after completing her Herbology make-up work, she had decided she should attempt to spare a short while to meet her housemates. After all, these were the people she would be getting to know for the next six and a half years. It wouldn't do to ostracize herself to start out.

 

She took a seat, notcing she had been the first to arrive. She was assuming the table with the green banners flying above were the Slytherin tables. She wasn't surprised she was the first one there, after all, she had been up way too early that day, and had completed the rest of her work earlier than expected. Granted, she still had three classes to go, but she still felt slightly pleased to have one subject out of the way. She poured herself a class of juice, and slowly sipped, hoping others would soon show up.

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Isolde O'Seighin
Isolde puffed up with pride and smiled, pleased with herself and her sorting. She didn't think she'd be less proud to end up in Gryffindor, though. She hoped it wouldn't make it awkward that she had nothing against the rival house on principal. Not yet, anyway. The hat did imply they were a bit dull. The real point was that she'd been sorted and she couldn't be happier. She made her way to the the Slytherin table and managed to find a seat. She didn't know anyone yet, so she wasn't sure where to sit but sha managed to find a place. She got a few "Welcome to Slytherin"s and "Nice job."s and she would smile and thank them. She listened to the Headmaster speak and found herself both thoroughly disappointed and very excited at the same time. No Quidditch? A Triwzard Tournament! But too young to enter? Augh! What an absolutely mental day! She shaking her head and allowing herself to breathe, she focused on putting food in her stomach and hydrating herself.

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Finlay Barclay

Finlay had had enough of his brother and cousins. Day in , day out for the entire summer. It was a relief to get back to school. Finlay listened to the opening speech as he stuffed his face. He had made room for a couple of new first years that had joined the Slytherin ranks. He elbowed the one next to him as he heard the headmaster tell them about the Triwizard tournament.

 

"This is going to be great !" he exclaimed. "You have no idea. I've heard of these competions. There are games and competions and dangerous beasts. We are lucky to be here for a Tri Wizard Tournament. Finlay looked around for his cousins Phoebe and Nancy. They were squabbling over something a little way down the long table. He called to them.

 

"What do you think? A Triwizard Tournament!"

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Isolde O'Seighin

Isolde felt a nudge and furrowed her brow at the slightly older boy. She nudged him back and made a face.

"I do hear they're exciting. The last one was a little too exciting from what I hear.Even so," she had to admit, looking down at her mashed potatoes with those pale blue eyes. "I'm sort of disappointed that I'm not old enough to enter. Well, At least I'm less likely to die this way." She shrugged, knowing that the older boy didn't really care about what she had to say. She was a firstie but that had never stopped her from being social before and it was unlikely to change now. She never had been shy.

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Chamomile O'Kreele

Chamomile refused to run from the Sorting Hat. She'd seen more than a few Gryffindors run away from the hat squealing with glee and landing onto their tables at rates that must surely bruise their bums, but that was most certainly not for her.

 

With as much dignity as she could muster - and a feeling of self-satisfaction, as after all, she'd intended to be sorted into Slytherin - she stood from the stool, put the hat back down, and walked over slowly to the Slytherin table, where she sat down and smiled shyly at either side of her.

 

"Food then!" You may now insert an appropriate time of her munching hungrily - it had been an extremely long day, and she'd had nothing to eat since her plastic-tasting chicken and bacon sandwich, so it was some time until she stopped focussing on replenishing her stomach and started listening into other people's conversations.

 

"Even if there weren't an age restriction," she interjected into the girl's conversation, "I don't know about you, but I don't know hardly enough spells just yet to take on any 'dangerous beasts'. Much better to focus on learning them, and cross our fingers they bring back the tournament before we graduate."

 

Oh gosh, was that blancmange?

 

"Anniversary of Lord Voldemort's return though," she said blanky. "Think the deatheaters will do anything?"

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Lai Harthorn

Lai was grinning like a man gone mad as he plopped his plate down on the table, before he plopped Aoi down next to him on one side. He didn't notice the different colors but obviously he was pleased with his spot, which seemed rather close to some very touchy people... For they had backed away from the two like they were pure evil. Lai grinned, taking a deep breath before he smiled innocently. "HellomynameisLai

HarthornandIcameherecauseIwasboredoverthereifthat'sokaywithyouguysandthisisBeanstalk,sayhibeanstalk!"

 

Aoi didn't say a darn thing, not one word, he was petrified. "Ohwell,hedoesn'tseemverytalkitiverightnow,

sides,I'dliketoannouncethatallyourbasebelongstousnow,ifyoudon'tmindthatwe'llbebestestofbestfriendsforever!"

Edited by Lai Harthorn

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Chamomile O'Kreele

Chamomile cringed at the boy who had just sat down so rudely next to her. There were occasions when she questioned her own sanity - but this wee thing had just convinced her of something no amount of therapy would ever have been able to do.

 

She was completely and utterly sane.

 

As he proceeded with his babbling, her eyes climbed higher and higher up her forehead until it seemed two little caterpillars would reach her hairline itself.

 

"Hi Beanstalk." Chamomile said, still leaning away from the boy before she moved in and whispered sharply in his ear. "Are you sure you're alright? I think you're meant to be over there." She pointed firmly at the Gryffindor table. "They can help you. Go. Now."

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Nelda McClain

"What are you doing here?" Nelda said, her mouth full of mashed potatoes and gravy. She gestured at the two Gryffindors who had just sat down at the table, one who seemingly had words exploding from his mouth. She studied both of them, a frown crossing her face. "Are you colorblind? Maybe you should go sit with, you know, the people you belong with."

 

Then she looked back at her plate, stirring the mashed potatoes listlessly. Oh, she could make a volcano! Heaping up the potatoes into a tall pile, she took her spoon and fashioned a little mountain with a hole in the top. She reached over several people for a ladle full of gravy and poured it. With satisfaction, she watched the gravy run down the sides. "Look at my volcano! WHOOSH! It's erupting!" She made various sound effects like that of a volcano. Everyone sitting beside her must be impressed. It's wasn't every day Nelda got the satisfaction of making such a large mashed-potato volcano.

 

UGH. THERE WAS PEA ON THE TABLE BESIDE HER. "Gross, get it away!" Nelda exclaimed, as she flicked the pea at the Gryffindors. "You can have that."

Edited by Nelda McClain

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