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Ravenclaw House Table

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Miles Weber

It took Miles only a few seconds to count the potatoes (things like that were easy: now, if he'd gone for lines in the wooden table, or peas, it would've taken him quite a bit longer). By the time he was finished, some one had taken a seat next to him, looking quite as miserable as he felt. He tried to picture himself with a grimace across his face, but he simply couldn't. He was so used to being content, he couldn't even imagine what he looked like when he was upset. He had a tendency to take things in stride, and accept them as they were...so why was this so different?

 

"Oh, hello," he replied, looking up from his potatoes. Mushy things, anyway. "Miles."

 

He looked down at his hands. Ten fingers, one more than the number of potatoes in the bowl in front of him. The girl asked him if he was unhappy with being placed in Ravenclaw, and Miles smiled. "No, not at all." It was the truth: he was thrilled, tickled, even, to be in Ravenclaw. Before the Sorting began, he hadn't had a clue as to where he would end up: his sisters had decided that it was a toss-up between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, with the very slimmest of chances for Gryffindor. Miles took their opinions as baseline, though he couldn't help but hope for whatever house Ryu got.

 

"And you weren't prying," he continued, his appetite building with each word he spoke. "It's no big thing, really. Kind of stupid, actually. My best friend just got into Gryffindor, and...I dunno, I guess I'm worried I won't see him much anymore." The extent to which he sounded like a girl was disturbing. "How about you, then? You don't look particularly cheerful to me." Miles scooped a potato out of the bowl and onto his plate. Eight.

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Paul Valentein

Paul stared at the nasty shape that had been a muffin. He wasn't sure whether he should actually pick up the disgusting glob off the ground.... or leave it there. An even better thought wouldbe, even if he did pick it up, where would he put it.

 

Disgusting thoughts involving him and the wad swam throigh his mind. He couldn't take it any more and forced himself to look away from the disgusting mess.

 

"Oh, ummm.... I don't know..... Transfig-....uration sounds in-interesting." he mumbled, the muffin thoughts persisting.

 

He had made himself look like a short savage animal spitting his food up. Oh merlin, what would people think. He wanted to punch himself for that. Paul's face turned slightly red as the embarressment slowly seeped in. Each second worse than before.

 

The girls looked like they didn't care, but oh Merlin he did. He must have looked disgusting. Paul wished he could somehow crawl under the table and hide without attracting attention to himself.

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Attia McKenzie

Paul was distracted and Attia felt for him. Her laughing probably had not helped. He kept eyeing the clump of muffin. So help me Merlin, I am going to be unladylike AGAIN!.

 

She grabbed and napkin and swooped in for the kill. Yes it was kind of gross. But the kids in her neighbourhood used to do similar things. She had never had the pleasure of having her own younger siblings, but she looked after others. She wondered if Paul was some kind of neat freak, maybe that's why it worried him so much. but then again... he had just dropped half chewed muffin on the floor... on his first day of school, in front of multiple girls. He was probably just embarassed. We'll take care of that.

 

It was probably quite awkward for Paul, since she kind of had to manoeuver her way around his legs to get the glob, but it was cool. On the way to Hogwarts she was in a compartment with a nose picking and eating boy, Paul was definitley much better.

 

The god secured tightly in the napkin she placed it onto her plate, which was now finally empty.

 

"There, that takes care of that, better?" she asked, glancing at Paul.

Edited by Attia McKenzie

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Lucy Megan Pavlina

Lucy had finished her dinner a bit earlier than she would have wanted, leaving her with some more time to spare. No one had spoken to her still, and it was starting to erk her. Did she smell bad? Was there something on her face? Just in case, she grabbed the napkin and rubbed at her face.

 

Lucy looked down the table. She saw three kids--two girls and a boy--sitting together, laughing as though the world would come to an end if they didn't. Next to them was an empty seat, and Lucy decided to risk it. She walked over and shyly cleared her throat.

 

"Er, hi," she started. "Do you mind if I sit here with you guys?" Then she remembered something very important. "My name's Lucy." She felt herself flush slightly from how awkward she sounded. She smiled to cover it up.

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Lillyanna Deegan

"Ello there Lucy! I'm Lillyanna, thats Attia and thats Paul! We were talking about what class we are most looking forward to, what are you looking forward too?" Lillyanna asked

 

 

[OOC sorry about the little post im watching X Games so im slightly distracted by Levi Lavallee and Sean White and Simon Dumont! sorry im rambling]

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Alcyone Brillare

Miles...

 

Strangely enough, he looked like a Miles. Especially the face he was making, as if he had walked a hundred miles.

Aly mentally slapped herself. The name comparison was lame and stupid. Thank Merlin she was in the habit of thinking before she spoke.

 

"No, not at all."

 

Aly really felt like an idiot now. Of course he would be happy with Ravenclaw.. who wouldn't be happy with Ravenclaw? It was clever, smart, intelligent, intellectual...

 

She needed more synonyms for smart. Really. Aly felt like putting that hat right back on and holding the brim down until it sorted her anywhere. Anywhere but Ravenclaw. She knew she wasn't stupid, at least school-wise. Socially was a different matter, because being locked up in a giant house all day wasn't anyones idea of social time. But still.. WHY?

 

"And you weren't prying.." "It's no big thing, really. Kind of stupid, actually. My best friend just got into Gryffindor, and...I dunno, I guess I'm worried I won't see him much anymore."

 

"Ohh..." So that was it. Aly would be empathetic, but she really didn't have a best friend yet. Potential friends, yes, but not much beyond that. And with that, he took out another potato. There were 8 now... just as she liked it.. nice and even. But now she couldn't take a potato because that would make 7.

 

And 7 was a non-perfect number. Irritatingly so. She'd have to take a carrot instead.

 

"How about you, then? You don't look particularly cheerful to me."

 

There it came, the question.. "Erm.. its sort of complicated. My parents are very demanding and they wanted me to be in Ravenclaw. So I should be happy I suppose. Its just that I sort of wanted to do something that I wanted to do for once. And it turns out that I'm not my own person after all, like I thought."

 

She said this in a sort of rush, then blushed. It wasn't rational or logical.. she should be happy. The boy would obviously think so too. She must appear like some pampered melodramatic princess. She'd have to show him that she wasn't of course...

 

Then it hit her. If Miles was missing his best friend who was a Gryffindor, maybe they could go over to the table? It would be better for only one of them to be sad rather than two. And she had some unfinished business with that Ivy girl. The fiend had burned off her eyebrow. Being roaring mad is much better than extremely disappointed. It would help take her mind off the whole fiasco.

 

But, Miles barely knew her. He wouldn't want to go with her anyway. So, Aly shut up and waited for his response. Maybe if he didn't think she was a complete idiot, she could say her rather odd idea.

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Paul Valentein

Paul smiled nervously at Attia. It was his way of saying thank you, in his own little way. He felt a bit better that the object which reminded him of what he had done several moments ago was gone. It had been a bit akward when she had crawled over him to get it, but he was fine with it. No problems.

 

He felt a shadow block his view of the next table and looked up. Another girl was standing there, asking if she could sit down. Paul nervously wondered if somehow had cast some kind of magnetism charm on him. He had never gotten more than one preson in his life to ask to sit by him. Why was he so popular all the sudden?

 

As if to check for a spell, he brushed off his robes. No afffect on anything. Silently he scooted over, forcing another student to accidently drop their knife when he bumped into him.

 

He apologized to them and looked back at the group, his anxiety increasing.

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Attia McKenzie

Uh oh.

 

Attia's food was finished. The ceremony was going on forever and her leg was begining to jiggle. She was getting... not bored... not anxious... but restless. If something didn't happen soon, it wouldn't be surprising if she jumped on the table and began to sing kareoke. Despite the fact that she had a lovely singing voice, it was something she doubted everyone wanted to witness.

 

Another girl had come to join them. Thank Merlin! That might keep her rooted on the spot for a little while longer. She smiled at her, no need for introductions as Lilyanna had taken care of that. She wanted to talk, but she felt like that would be rude... but she really needed something, ANYTHING!

 

Luckily, Paul looked a little relieved, but now there was another emotion on his face. Paranoia? No not quite. Probably just nervous. Who isn't nervous today of all days? All The newbies, then all the scarier older looking students... intimidating looking professors...

Edited by Attia McKenzie

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Lucy Megan Pavlina

"Ello there Lucy! I'm Lillyanna, thats Attia and thats Paul! We were talking about what class we are most looking forward to, what are you looking forward too?" Lucy smiled greatfully when the boy named Paul scooted over to make room for her.

 

"Thanks," she muttered. Then out loud she said, "Well, I'm muggleborn, so I only know about a few of the classes. I skimmed through some of our textbooks, and after talking to some people in Diagon Alley, I think I'd like the class where, where you change certain things into other things." She knew that her last sentence had to be one of the stupidest sentences she had ever spoken in her entire life. She suddenly wished Emilee was sitting there next to her. "I mean, well, uh! That last part came out all wrong, I'm sorry." She blushed once again, hoping she hadn't made a complete fool out of herself.

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Lillyanna Deegan

"Oh transfiguration! thats what Paul said!!"

 

Lillyanna too was getting restless her ADHD kicking in and finding herself unable to keep her attention in one place for too long or she might pop! Not wanting to be rude she looked around for someone else to say or do something.

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Alasdair McCandlish

Ravenclaw? Alasdair blinked his eyes rapidly, three times in quick succession. Well that was surprising. Great Aunt Mary had said he was a shoe in for the Slytherin house what with the way he was so mopey and tended to have a dark look on his face at all times. Then again, Great Aunt Mary was also going blind, deaf, and walked with a cane. She was a good judge of character, but she was also very old, and slightly senile sometimes. Dair had learned at an early age to take everything Great Aunt Mary said with a very large grain of salt. Even though salt tasted awful on its own.

 

"You're...sure?" he asked the hat, but before the hat could answer, it was whisked off his head, the boy was literally pushed off the stool by the next kid, and Alasdair headed to the table that looked the most cheerful to have recieved another pest. Not that Ravenclaws looked that entirely enthused, really. A somber lot indeed. And the Sorting had been going on for ages now. Alasdair didn't blame them for the lacklustre welcome into the house.

 

Needless to say, Dair plopped himself down by a few of the other newly sorted Hogwarts students, survived the welcoming speeches, drank to Wrigglewrithe or whatever it was, and then began to load his plate with the dinner that looked fairly amazing. He hadn't even realized he was hungry until he got here and.. well... Maybe Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad if they were given decent food. Did different houses get different food? Dair would have to make a mental note to see if the Hufflepuffs got less superior foodstuffs later on.

 

Digging into his mashed potatoes and steak, and then spearing a steamed carrot with his fork, Dair began to shovel the food into his very willing mouth. He absorbed the conversation around me, choosing to not participate in the slightest, until one girl said something that made a lot of sense.

 

"And it turns out that I'm not my own person after all, like I thought."

 

"You're not the only one who thinks that," he said as he leaned over to make himself closer and more audible. "Though I guess that now we're all away from our families, we can start to become more...alone?" He frowned, and jabbed his fork into another slice of carrot unhappily. "No, self-sufficient." That amended, he bit the carrot off the end of his fork, and chewed vengefully.

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Annie Wilson

Annie walked over to the Ravenclaw house table. She had expected to be there, and was glad about it very much. She still hoped she wouldn't be too far behind just because she was a muggle-born. She wondered how many of those there were at Hogwarts.

Not really looking around her, she sat down at the table.

 

"Hi." She said in a friendly tone. The food had already appeared, so she poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice and helped herself to a peice of toast. All the excitment had made her forget from her hungriness, and it had died down a little. She couold hardly eat anything at all now.

 

I hope this is going to be a fun year! She thought, her blue eyes glancing around her, trying to get a picture of how the Ravenclaws look.

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Jules Lloyd

Jules kept her eyes on her plate as she listened to the conversation going on around her. It seemed she wasn't the only person with something to prove, but for some reason, the way her new housemates spoke made their attitudes sound far more childish than her own.

 

Jules hadn't wanted to get sorted into the houses of her parents, but to be fair, it had nothing to do with her parents themselves. It was her own contrary nature that had pushed her into deciding Hufflepuff was the better choice. She simply didn't want either of her parents to guess the outcome of her sorting correctly. And now, having been sorted into Ravenclaw, she faced the task of bolstering her father's pride while letting down her mother, all in one letter.

 

And yet, if she were honest with herself, Jules wasn't entirely disapointed to be sorted into Ravenclaw. It reinforced a lot of opinions she already held about herself. She was bright, and probably cleverer than the people who got into Hufflepuff. Ari Greymalkin was over at the Slytherin table, which wasn't much of a surprise, but if he'd been so clever as he seemed to think, he'd be sitting at this one.

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Melinda Onigiri

Mel saw her best friend run over to the Hufflepuff table, and smiled. She knew the houses well enough to know that she never had a donut that was where Blair was going to be put. Oncer her name was called she walked up with not a thought in her head that would give her secrets away.

Mel nodded to what the hat had said about her, and slowly got off the stool, and made her way to her new house table. She looked around, and made mental notes of those around her, and other first years. She pulled out a small note book from her pocket, and made sure to note where all those she had met over the summer had been placed.

Blaire was Ravenclaw, and the girl Jules she had met in the clothing shop was Ravenclaw as well. She nodded to the girl, and let her eyes scan for the others. With no luck, becasue of so many students all here at once. She wrote down a few things she wished to remember. Once her writing stopped she put the book away, and filled her plate slowly eating.

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Cherry Howell

Cherry had put the hat back on the stool, walked up to the cheering Ravenclaws, not hearing their cheers, seeing only a blur of faces and bodies. She felt hot in her face as she sat down where there was still room for many others who got sorted into her house. Her house. Ravenclaw. Really, she was so ecstatic her hair forgot to POP like it usually did in situations like this. Some other table cheered for new housemates. Then the Ravenclaws cheered again.

 

Good. So it wasn't just too much attention given to shy little Cherry. She looked around and saw smiling faces and people whispering to each other while someone had the sorting hat on their head. Many shy or excited looking new first years joined the Ravenclaw table. Cherry was overcome by how many people there actually were! She sat there, wide-eyed, until the end of the sorting ceremony, and listened to the headmaster's speech. When he had finished, the table was overflowing with food of all sorts. Cherry just stared. Her hands were in her lap, fumbling the fabric of her skirt and robes, and she was looking at her plate, eying the other Ravenclaws under her curly hair.

 

Fionnwyn had been sorted into Hufflepuff. She was the only person she considered a friend in this place. There was also Ella, but Cherry had missed her sorting for some reason. Besides they had only met once on the train. Cherry felt lonely. She didn't even recognize anyone's face from Diagon Alley or the Hogwarts Express!

 

Cherry didn't feel like talking to anyone. She just wanted to go to bed. She had been taught that things would always look brighter the next day. And she knew it was true. She felt like crying, but would be so embarrassed if she did, that she wouldn't even dream of it. She took a deep breath and then some food, and ate in silence, watching the others with mixed feelings.

 

On one hand Cherry was in Ravenclaw, and she had always wished that. On the other she was far away from home, family and friends, and she felt lonely in the great hall where there were so many people she didn't want to start counting them!

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Tristan Blackwood

Was Tristan really a second year? The year had gone by too fast. Reminiscing as he watched the sorting ceremony, Tristan's memory was very vivid from when that same hat was placed on his head, claiming his faith to Ravenclaw. Oh how nervous he had been that day. It was such a relief to know that his name would not call him forth that night.

 

Trying hard to keep up with the pace of the sorting ceremony, Tristan managed to cheer as each of the new first year Ravenclaws found their way to their 'family' for the next seven years. His first year ended up being fun, but he did regret not making any friends. He knew people, and he talked to people, but the only "friend" he made was Eva, and well.. Tristan did not even want to begin to think about her. Being so busy with classwork, and Quidditch, it was hard to socialize for Tristan, not to mention the fact that he was shyer than a lot boys in his class. Most were obnoxious, trouble making fools who weren't afraid to speak their mind. Of course they would make friend. That would be his goal this year, to make friends, good friends, not just ones to smile at as they passed each other in the hall.

 

There was that one Slytherin girl he thought to himself. Trisha? Tammy? Tatiana! Although, that ended up sort of awkward. Freya was always a good friend, but she was usually running off with the first year girls, and Tristan always got rather nervous around girls. A guy friend, he thought, Tristan needed a pal to hang out with. How about that kid that painted his face? No he was... odd, but who is Tristan to judge?

 

Shoving a pile of food in his mouth, he gave the friendship thought a rest. All he needed to do was to try to be more personable. That's it. No more shyness this year. He slightly nodded his head at the thought and chomped down on a spoonful of the house elves specialty.

 

A new year, a new start.

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Patrick Reith

Ravenclaw. The hat just said Ravenclaw. Patrick stirred for a moment before feeling a hand placed on his back to prod him to move along. Feeling startled, Patch jumped off the stool, knocking the hat haphazardly aside, and turned back.

 

"Oh, pardon, I'm so sorry Mr... er, Hat, yes, here you go," he mumbled, flusteredly pickin gup the hat and setting it gently upright. That was sincerely the freakiest thing that had ever happened to him in all his short life. A hat had read his mind and spoken to him. In his head. And furthermore, it had thought him intelligent. Witty, even. He was suddenly beaming.

 

And erm, still standin gpu at the Head Table.

 

"Oh right"

 

He jumped again and skittered as fast as he could down from the front of the room, eliciting a small number of titters from the crowd. But Patrick didn't care. What had the poem said? Ravenclaw was for what, exactly? He saw the blue and bronze streamers and quite instantly felt insanely proud to be there. He was clever - this said so! He was smart and witty - he hat said so! He looked around the at the people crowding the long Ravenclaw table and wedged himself into a seat. It wasn't hard, since he was terribly little for his age, still waiting to grow into his large blue eyes.

 

"Hullo!" he announced brightly, sitting up and looking around. "I'm Patrick," he added, to no one in particular. He looked over at a boy - that'd be Tristan - and smiled. "What's your name? How old are you? Do like being Ravenclaw?"

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Miles Weber

Miles nodded empathetically. It was the Hoofle in him. He understood what the girl was saying, what her predicament was, but not necessarily why fulfilling the wishes of her parents was causing her to be so upset. Miles was a goody-two-shoes, and he tried his hardest to please people: it was usually the first thing on his agenda, as a matter of fact: making other people happy, even if what he was doing wasn't necessarily what he wanted. He was simply eager to please, and hated to see people disappointed.

 

He picked up his fork and made to stab into his potato when some one else leaned across the table and joined their conversation, talking about self-sufficiency and independence. Miles was all for it, to be honest: it would just take him a while to get used to it. He'd always preferred to let others do the talking, while he stood quietly in the background, inspecting a bug or counting stones.

 

Independence didn't really entitle that. Independence was big on the whole "attention" factor. Miles decided. Asking people for things. Drawing attention to oneself. Miles, though he liked making sure everyone was satisfied, never relished the attention that came with it. He'd totally saved a baby over the summer, and didn't want any credit for it. Yeah. He was practically a superhero. So was Laurie. Who...was totally in Gryffindor, too. D:

 

"Better luck next time, Miles!" Miles looked up: Keira Madison, his Giggleswick neighbor, was shouting to him through cupped hands from the Gryffindor table. Miles reddened and stared back down at his potato.

 

The boy across from him bit a carrot off the end of his fork, and Miles jabbed into his potato, fluffing it with the prongs of his fork. "Alone?" he said. "Yeah. Sounds...great. Develops...character." Miles stared back down at his potato spitefully. Stupid tuber. D:

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Tristan Blackwood

Shoving another spoonful of pretty much a mixture of everything on his plate a young boy plopped right down beside him. Looking extra enthused, the boy took a look around at his new surrounding.

 

"Hullo!, he almost shouted. "I'm Patrick!". Who was the kidding even talking to anyways? Nobody had even bothered responding to the poor first year. They were all too busy conversing about their summers, or stuffing their faces with their suppers.

 

The boy turned his body around and carried on to introducing himself to the second year.

 

Give me some of your outgoing personality, kid, Tristan thought, slightly sarcastic.

 

"What's your name? How old are you? Do like being Ravenclaw?", did he just ask ten billion questions in one second? He must have broke a record. Slightly choking on his mashed potatoes. Tristan wiped the excess food off of his mouth to make himself somewhat presentable to the little first year.

 

"I'm Tristan.", he replied nodding. "Second year... and ....yes.", hoping he remembered the questions in the right order. Slightly disappointed that the little one had interrupted his rhythmic patterns of scooping up scrumptious meal, Tristan couldn't ignore the poor kid.

 

"Welcome to Ravenclaw", he said lifting up a spoonful of salad, spitting out the words just before continuing his feast.

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A'Marie Breck

So the summer was already over. Of course, the nerd that had consumed too much of A'Marie's life had been anticipating this; she'd even had her calendar charmed so that the days would count themselves off with large red x's. It didn't really matter that the calendar had come from the Rainbow Apple Witch Club, even though the radio show had been for kids, she'd still liked the colorful pictures of the witches dancing around apples. It was most definitely not a rip-off of Strawberry Shortcake *shifty. If anyone had noticed and mentioned it to her though, she wouldn't have admitted to it. That's where blaming seven-year-old sisters had come as useful.

 

She'd spent the past morning planning out how she would unload her luggage, trying to find a good place to hide her calendar. She'd been dumb enough to bring the thing with her and after noticing it snug in the litter of her other possessions, she'd realized there was no where safe to hang it. It would probably be hidden in the bottom of her bag for another year.

 

As she met the usual crowd at the Ravenclaw table, it had hit her that she was no longer a first year. The group of students crammed into a line near the hat had taken over that title, and judging by their looks of panic and fear, they'd managed to get the gist of it quite well. Poor ickles. The thought had been foreign and bizarre sounding, referring to someone else as an ickle. It had even been weird just to even think of the word not being in reference of herself, because she was no longer an ickle to be stuffed in broom closets frequently. Just where had the time gone? She hadn't even done anything constructive over the summer. She'd found a few new books to occupy herself, but most of her time had been spent sleeping in and bugging her parents to buy her a new sketchbook. Her last one had been filled to the last page, even if most of the sketches were doodles she'd penned during class. She hadn't even had classes to keep her busy and the summer had become too boring too quickly.

 

She had, however, managed to bring her books with her to the sorting ceremony. It wasn't as if she'd found the ceremony too dull, but it was always good to get a head start on classes. Nerd. And she'd just found an interesting chapter in her Potions book that she couldn't wait to ask Giordano on.

 

Some of the ickles had already found seats at the table, either gibbering to their neighbors excitingly or staring gloomily at their food. She noticed that almost none of the second years had joined the table and with a bit of disappointment, she sat across a boy she'd vaguely recognized from class. She flipped open her Potions book and glowered at the next list of vocabulary, none of it seeming half as interesting as that chapter of exploding potions had seemed. "You're a second year, right? I just didn't want to be the only one," she greeted the classmate, her eyes still focused on her book. Noticing that she was also surrounded by new first years, she gave a distracted wave and added, "welcome to Ravenclaw." Oh yes, she was so exciting.

 

(lame post >.<)

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Alcyone Brillare

Just as Aly was explaining her predicament, another boy joined their conversation with an epic speech about self-sufficiency, independence. She knew he was trying to make her feel better, but the fact was it really hadn't helped.

 

She didn't want independence. Aly had enough of that already. She just wanted to reassure herself that she wasn't going to turn into some housewife with no feelings.

 

Aly took an appraising look at the newcomer. He looked clean, which was a definite plus. So many of the children smelled back from the lake. He looked smart, another plus. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, even if his speech was rather abrasive. She saw that it hadn't helped Miles either, he had just nodded rather apathetically and gone back to counting his tubers.

 

There was the same number after all. She had already checked.

 

A loud voice cried over from the Gryffindor table, "Better luck next time Miles." Aly bristled. That was no way to make anyone feel better. What an incredibly rude person. It was at this moment that Aly decided to act. She'd prove that she wasn't some gutless Ravenclaw.

 

"C'mon Miles," she said as she grabbed his arm rather roughly, "Let's go see your friend in Gryffindor. I've got some business to settle there anyways."

 

She took a long look at their mysterious neighbor.. "Erm..." She didn't know his name. "You can come to if you'd like."

 

They must have made an odd trio. A small girl tugging frantically at a boy who was all too much absorbed in his tubers, and the odd boy sitting by them.

 

((OOC: Sorry, its lame I know. Miles can visit Ryu, Dair can visit Ivy or whomever. Aly wants to yell at Ivy some more, but she's already involved in a pretty hectic prefect bathroom thread, so in the end she won't find her.))

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Megan Vance

*Graces this thread with more 6th year awesome*

 

 

 

Their little voices were pounding in her skull. They were squeaky. They were annoying. They were eeeeeevil.

 

Megan of course, wasn’t sitting in the middle of her two best friends, rather, they were both on the same side (her left if you were wondering) of her, leaving her to sit near a bunch of loser 11 year olds.

 

It was times like this she didn’t appreciate her mates at all. She swore she could feel her eye twitching with every little sound the first years made. The clink of their glasses. The crunch crunch CHOMP of their eating. Even the sniffles that the homesick ones made, brought on the feeling of strangling them all. The Ravenclaw sixth year had glared at the sorting hat every time ‘RAVENCLAW!’ left it’s dirty folded ‘lips’.

 

“Chew with your mouth shut for Merlin’s sake!” Megan snapped, turning her attention to a little black-haired first year that had been munching away happily on a carrot stick. The sixth year earned herself plenty stares from her peers and her eyes narrowed. “Can I help you?”

 

Needless to say, heads turned away quickly for fear of death after seeing her glare.

 

"Yeah. Sounds...great. Develops...character."

 

“Hah. You’re going to need all the character you can get kid,” Megan informed a little blonde midget, sitting a ways down the table who was pitifully staring down at his plate. Awww he looked so sad.

 

Seriously. Suck it up and deal with it. Megan didn’t want him here either.

 

Couldn’t the headmaster just lock all of the first years in a separate part of the castle? Until they were…say…third or fourth years? They were much less annoying by that point in time. Even that shy little Tristan bloke was pushing it by being a second year. Ugh.

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Naima St. James

Foooooood.

 

It felt like Naima had gone an entire SUMMER without it. She wouldn’t go as far to say that she was starved, really, but the St. James family definitely did not prepare as much food as Naima knew as just waiting for her down in the Great Hall. What if she wanted pasta at home when they were having salmon? Tant pis, she was stuck with the salmon. And Naima absolutely abhorred fish.

 

She slinked into a seat next to Megan and mumbled a greeting before reaching, rather ruddily, across the sixth year to grab at a plate. It was pretty hard to come across disgusting food at Hogwarts, and even as Naima eyed the contents of the plate (maybe a casserole?) she knew it was safe. No hidden surprises, no slimy mushrooms… wonderful.

 

“Eat your veggies,” she said to a young girl who sat across from her, and heaped a pile of green beans onto her plate. Naima, who was infamous for enforcing vegetables at practically every meal, beamed when the girl smiled, forced or not, and gingerly stabbed at one of the green stems.

 

“You know,” Naima murmured, leaning over towards Megan a bit so she didn’t have to talk so loudly, “that’s a fine way to get yourself NOT liked. Unless, of course, that’s what you’re going for.” Unlike Megan, Naima had to show at least a bit of restraint when it came to dealing with the first years. But Merlin knew, she wished she could knock some sense into them. Earlier that day she’d already seen two of them trying out spells in the corridor; it was only the first week of class! Did they honestly believe they were going to be able to perform a leg-locker curse so easily?

 

Delinquents. Every – single – one – of – them. “Pass the pepper, will you?”

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Alasdair McCandlish

Stupid tuber indeed. Unhappy Boy #1 dolefully stared at his potatoes, Alasdair was massacreing those carrots both with his teeth and his fork, and the girl...seemed to be against the subjugation of vegetables. At least, she didn't seem to have the wrath for them that Alasdair and Unhappy Boy #1 did. Interesting. It made sense, though, didn't it? Weren't girls supposed to be more docile? Except for Trudy, Dair's older sister. But she didn't count, she was more fat harpy than docile girl.

 

His comment was left unreplied to, which was alright with him, he supposed. If you didn't have something intelligent to contribute, why contribute at all? Alasdair could appreciate people who kept their mouth shut. These two might end up useful to him in the future. With another sigh, Alasdair stared down at his own plate, and shifted the carrots into the mashed potatoes and patted down the maleable white food until it seemed like the carrots were in their very own little snow cave. Minus the snow, the fun, and really...everything cool about a snow cave. Bored with his vegetables, he cut off another piece of his steak, savoring the taste of meat that was cooked exactly perfectly. When the McCandlishes did have good steaks, it usually ended up tough, leathery, and slightly charred, if only because Bessie McCandlish had never quite conquerored the 'cow' part of the kitchen.

 

He raised his eyes while chewing the meat to watch his newfound accomplices (because Alasdair had officially inducted them as such). It wasn't until Unhappy Boy #1, now called Miles was yelled at that something exciting happened. And it did! The girl began to tug on the boy's arm, devising one plan in a matter of short seconds. A good idea it was, too. Just because they were sorted into a specific house didn't mean that they necessarily had to eat with their newfound housemates. It was a perfectly reasonable desire the girl had, to change seats.

 

And then he was invited, and was all the more intrigued. Would it be against the rules to move? Did Alasdair really care all that much? He was bored here, that was for sure, despite the two older girls who were generally looking snooty and mean. Having little patience for girls who appeared to care about nothing other than themselves, Dair's eyes drifted back to Miles and company.

 

"Yes, I'd like that." Phoebus had ended up in Slytherin, and while he'd like to go visit with somebody he actually knew, well...Phoebus was probably busy already, learning how to smirk better or some nonsense. "I haven't got any reasons why I wouldn't." He dropped his fork on his plate, it making a slight ting! noise.

 

((OOC. If Aly can't find Ivy, I don't see why Dair would find her either. Lemme know by PM what we plan on doing next! <3))

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Patrick Reith

Patrick blinked at the boy who answered him blankly. Wow. The boy was definitely not very friendly. If it had been a normal day, and not the happy day of the exiting sorting, then Patch would have slunk away with his tail between his legs. But no, today was not a normal day. It was Patrick's first day at Hogwarts, and his spirit was not to be dissuaded from bubbling over exuberantly by even the most sullen sort of person. Well, at least Tristan welcomed him. That was a nice thing to do.

 

"Thanks," he said, undaunted. "I didn't kow anything much at all about the hosues before the sorting song, but I'm real glad to be Ravenclaw. I'd rather be clever than anything else," he prattled, heaping a large glop of mashed potatoes on his plate. From somewhere, a voice told all of them to eat their veggies, and Patrick just grinned.

 

"Always do - I'm a vegetarian," he announced, before turning back to Tristan, who, try as he like, wasn't getting rid of Patrick any time soon.

 

"Whachoo like about being a Ravenclaw?" he asked. "You play quidditch or something?"

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