(1941-09-01) Opening Feast 1941 - 1942
Details for Opening Feast
Summary: Start-of-Term Feast at Hogwarts for the 1941 - 1942 school year.
Date: September 1st, 1941
Location: Hogwarts - Great Hall

When all of the students have settled Dumbledore shares some quiet words with the Deputy Headmaster, Sirius Black, who strides to go meet the first years and lead them in for the sorting. The Sorting hat on the podium looks to be snoozing, up all night think up its song maybe? When the double doors swing open and Sirius returns with the first years following after him the Sorting Hat snaps awake and smacks his seam popped patch of a mouth lazily. That patch flaps a bit as he ahems a few times to warm up his voice.

"Welcome students old and new
are you panicked or nervous?
Fear not I know what to do.
For I am Sorting Hat, at your service!

Scarlet and Gold,
they do not fold.

Yellow and Black,
always has your back.

Bronze and Blue,
know what is true.

Silver and Green,
do much more than preen.

Have a seat and open your mind
I'll sort it through
and perhaps I will be kind
and with much to-do

I will shout it out,
with plenty of clout


Then you will know which House you'll be in!"

Deputy Headmaster Black does not seem entirely impressed with this years song and without much fanfare at all he unfurls a scroll and begins to read off names with one hand gesturing in a 'single line' queue formation. "Please stand, single queue in this order?
Alderton, William
Broadmoor, Karl
Broadmoor, Kevin
MacFarlan, Hamish
Merrythought, Aiden
Mulciber, Daedalus
Prince, Eileen
Spleen, Helbert
Toke, Matilda
Woodcroft, Moira
Thank you, very good, alright. Mr. Alderton please come up and sit down."

Seated with her fellow Hufflepuffs, comfortably wedged, in fact, between Oscar and Mateo - lucky thing! - Erica Stainwright smoothes her napkin with fastidious care across her lap and gently straightens the cuff of one sleeve before settling. Her attention, briefly waylaid by a shy smile aside at something muttered by one of the boys, soon moves up front; her expression avidly earnest as always. Folding her hands primly, the little blonde does her best to stare curiously at the little First Years as they're shepherded by.

Not quite the case from a particular gaggle of Ravenclaw Sixth Years. Morrow Selwyn, now fully recovered from the vague 'illness' she has referenced in overshadowing what had promised to be a fun-filled summer, regards the new-starts with the leonine air of the predator for the zoo-goers. Fresh meat! Seated with her usual selection of friends, the brunette does at least offer an encouraging smile to any who make eye-contact in passing - and there aren't many - before her gaze drifts briefly toward the Slytherin table across the way. Is she pondering who will get the pick of the litter? Or looking for someone? It's irritatingly difficult to guess, thanks to that superficial veneer of bored indifference. Propping her elbows on the tabletop, she links her fingers loosely and rests her jaw lightly atop.

Aasha is seated at the Gryffindor table, a welcoming smile lighting her face. She is quiet for the most part, listening intently.

Aasha looks around the area, offering a smile to those she knows, as well as to those she doesn't. The first years catch her attention, and she offers a reassuring smile to each in turn.

William is quite excited and so eager to be sorted it. When his name is called, a mall bit of dread chills his heart. What if the Hat had other ideas. He didn't think himself sly enough for Slytherin nor Bold enough for Gryffendor. But-

*cough* prat* cough

William ignores the comment from the Ravenclaw's table as he strides bravely to the podium and bows at the tall fellow, ready with the Sorting Hat. "Good Day, Head Master. Master Hat." He turns to set on the small stool and held his breadth.

The Sorting Hat begins to mumble, "A kind heart, very loyal, also quite the deep thinker then… Still, the answer is quite…"

William tensed in anticipation, "Not Hufflepuff, please," he quietly wimpered."

The Sorting Hat seemed to chuckled at the young lad's distress, "RAVENCLAW!"

With a a sigh of releif, the young lad blurts, "Thanks ever so kindly, Mr. Hat"

With the Hat removed William nods politely to the Head master and bolts to the Ravenclaw Table sticking his tongue out at his brother Arkie in the process.

"Karl Broadmoor, you're next, please sit down?." After Karl his fraternal twin brother Kevin sits under the hat and then after them it's Hamish. All three get the same and very certain sorting,


"Aiden Merrythought." Over the top of the scroll comes the stern gaze of Professor Black as he waits for Aiden to come take a seat so that he may lower the Sorting Hat down onto his head.

Aiden approaches the podium and hat he swallows nervously. He thinks of all of his family and the houses they were all in. When he reaches the Podium he smiles at Professor Black. "Aye tha's me Sir." He says sitting down. The sorting hat is lowered onto Aiden's head and He swallows hard and breaths deeply a few times. It takes a moment or two but the hat begins to think. "Hmmmmm…. Yes tricky, you are very difficult indeed." The hat says to Aiden. "Yes you're loyal, Intelligent, Bold, and Oh so very determined. Yes a true thirst to prove yourself. Hmmmm…." The hat says in contemplation. At this point Aiden's starting to get a little bit nervous seems like the hat is taking a little more time with him than any of the others. When all of a sudden the hats mouth opens wide and says. "Its clear now SLYTHERIN!!" As the hat is taken off Aiden is smiling he heads off towards the Slytherin table to an eruption of tremendous applause coming from his new house mates. Aiden sits down the cheers ringing in his ears for the first new Slytherin of this term.

After lifting the Sorting Hat back up to hover in the air out to his side he shifts the hat so it's not hovering over the built in stool within the podium and instead holds it out before him so that, "Daedalus Mulciber." can get the hat easily placed down onto his head.

Looking rather pale and nervous, Daedalus pushes his wheels forward, rolling into position and then turning to face the student body. The hat is quite some time deciding, talking quietly to him, "Intelligent, yes, very much so. Quick of wit, very logical. And yet… A determination, a fire to succeed, and so much potential. Yes, yes, it has to be," and then the hat yells, "SLYTHERIN!"

At the Slytherin table, there's an almost instant cheer from second-year Clarissa Mulciber. Meanwhile, at the Ravenclaw table, seventh year Ameinocles "Locks" Mulciber looks downright disappointed, though he smiles and claps when Daedalus looks his way.

Daedalus, once the hat is removed from his head, rolls over to take his position at the Slytherin table, smiling brightly to Aiden and then Clarissa.

Josie sits at the Gryffindor table, of course, watching the Sorting with interest. She claps politely for each sorting, even the Slytherins, but then cheering and clapping loudly for anybody, like Karl, who gets sorted into Gryffindor.

As the first of the Firsts wins himself a spot at the Ravenclaw table, to a round of applause, Morrow tilts her head a little askance in order to better hear the words murmured into her ear by the redhead beside her. Well, between the five of them it's fairly safe to assume they'll have at least some inkling of who the newbies are. An Alderton, hm? Half-blood? Well.. the night is young. And her housemates aren't all so err.. prone to snobbery. With a subtle nod, the brunette straightens her posture again, her stormy blue-gray eyes drift back up to the Sorting Hat and the dreaded perch atop the stool. Oh good. More Gryffindors. Just what the world needs, right? Ah well, there's a Slytherin to soothe the triple-sting. It's almost impressive, the way Morrow flits an assessment over each student and yet still manages to look entirely unconcerned by proceedings.

It is Slytherin for Eileen Prince and for Helbert Spleen who can't help but wave to his Grandmother, Madam Spleen, who's sat in her usual place at the high table excitedly. He's still waving when the hat plops down on his head and pops out his prominent ears, bending them over some. The boys blond hair can be seen when the Hat speaks as it sits so low on his head. "HRufrufflepruffr."

Professor Black 'helps' the sorting hat by lifting it up some by its point. "HUFFLEPUFF!" Then the lift continues til it's completely off Spleen's head.

There is a bit of applause from the Toke brothers, Slater and younger Harrel, when their little sister "Matilda Toke." Is called up. They both seem very ready for her to join them at the Gryffindor table, shifting themselves and those around them about to make space between them for their little sister. So imagine their shocked faces when the Sorting Hat announces, "Ravenclaw!"

"What!? Really? No way!" The brother's fortunately quiet and settle down with a little finger wiggle of admonishment from Gryffindor Head of House, Professor Enid Pettigrew.

The scroll of names grows shorter and shorter and the House Tables grow fuller and fuller. Finally the list is rolled up and set down on the podium as Sirius Black calls out the last name, "Moira Woodcroft."

Aasha watches attentively, anxious to see how the last sorting will be.

Moira lights up with excitement when her name is called. Some murmurs of recognition bubble up from the students in recognition the Woodcroft name. Anyone who has lived in or spent enough time in Hogsmeade has come across the name of the village's founding family, and likely encountered its red-haired princess bouncing through the shops and streets. Even now, there is a spring in her step as she approaches and hops up onto the stool.

Moira can scarcely contain herself as the tattered old hat is placed upon her head. The Sorting Hat, however, wrinkles up its features and lets out a prolonged, "Hmmmmm." As the hat falls into thoughtful silence, Moira's smile falters and she stares up at the brim, waiting with growing anticipation. "Could it be?" The Sorting Hat ponders aloud. "The times are changing, indeed. SSSSSLYTHERIN!"

As murmurs and gasps travel through the room, Moira's jaw drops open, gobsmacked. A half-blood in Slytherin? As her face drains of colour, her eyes turn slowly toward the Slytherin table, where she is met with a host of expressions, from bemusement to utter shock to glowering disdain. A lump rises in her throat as Moira slides down from the stool, and like a prisoner being marched toward the firing squad, she drags her feet toward her new house as if an invisible hand were pushing her forth against her will. As she nears an open seat, the nearby Slytherin's scoot away, lest her impure blood somehow taint them.

Sitting near the teacher's end of the Ravenclaw table, Susan has that distant half-distracted look on her face that tends to characterize her, more often than not. She doesn't even catch out the kid who mutters 'prat' enough to scowl gently at him. As new and slightly-dazed-looking 11-year-old Ravenclaws are assigned to her table one by one, she points out open spots with a murmur and a gesture, then watches, amazed, at the little girl's reaction from the Slytherin tables. Well.

Aiden's sorting was expected, after the lad had a serpents tongue. When Daedalus is sorted into Slytherin, the young Alderton boy looks creastfallen and quite disappointing. "Well then," he says simply and turns toward the comaradery of his new peers in gentlemanly fashion. When Moira is sorted, William can't help but clap. It appealed to his sense of fair play. Poor Syltherins. Whatever shall they do?

Aasha frowns, offering a reassuring smile to Moira. She makes sure to do this while the Slytherins are showing their distain.

Oberon Lestrange looms tall above most of his housemates, even while sitting. He isn't paying much attention to the Sorting Ceremony, instead whispering and joking among his friends. He casts the occasional glance toward the Ravenclaw table, but manages to consistently miss any glances coming his way, like a game of visual tag. But the murmurs and stares aimed at Moira draw his attention to the ginger girl. Woodcroft? That's no pure-blood name. His jaw sets and tightens, his teeth grinding. This. Will. Not. Do.

Is… is that even allowed? Morrow looks utterly incredulous as a half-blood slinks toward the Slytherin table. And she's not even that horrendous of a Purist, by comparison to those already seated over there. Oh dear. The child's sorting better have been spot-on, or she's going to be eaten alive. Unthinkingly, the infamous Selwyn flits a glance of distinct 'what in the hell?' toward Oberon Lestrange, though she's unlikely to catch his eye with such a err… pressing distraction. Tag, you're it.

Frankly, once the initial shock wears off, the brunette looks oddly intrigued, even amused, as if this were all some frightful stageplay that's going down like a lead balloon. What will the next plot twist be?

Samira gazes across the hall at the firsties to be sorted as she sits beside Oberon at the Slytherin table, across from Tom Riddle. As the Sorting Hat sends Daedelus to Slytherin, Samira offers him a subtle smile of greeting. However, when a half-blood finds herself sorted into Slytherin, Samira is among those who stare shocked.

Aasha frowns at the boy, speaking directly to Moira. "Don't let them get you down. Welcome to Hogwarts, Moira!"

Daedalus has met Moira before, and he's still new enough (all of three minutes) to Slytherin that he doesn't notice how unusual it is, so he's clapping with a bright smile at first after Moira's sorted, only belatedly looking around and noticing the reactions of the others at his table.

Tom Riddle has clapped in welcome to the new Slytherins to the table. The last Slytherin however, the clap slows into something that is even slow for a golf clap. "This could be beneficial…" He muses softly to a volume the Knight around him could hear him. "Hogsmeade Weekends could be our oyster. Smiles, play nice and we can benefit." Riddle as usual, has plans and machinations of silk covered poisoned dagger schemes.

After placing the Sorting Hat back down on the podium stool Professor Black gives the Headmaster a respectful nod as they pass each other by. Professor Black taking his seat at the high table again while Headmaster Albus Dumbledore steps up to the podium.

"Welcome welcome! I am so glad to see everyone whole and healthy - and human after such an exciting summer." Dumbledore chuckles a little bit with a warm smile as he seems to manage to meet every students gaze as he continues on with the usual announcements. He introduces all of the faculty and goes over the usual rules. There is a slight difference this year after four years of extreme restrictions?

"I am very pleased to announce that after the aid of several helping hands, some of those hands within these walls as I speak, the conflict between the centaurs is currently at a truce. The Starchaser Herd is in the process of returning to their home within the forest. Their village location on the grassy knolls will eventually be lessened to a simple shrine around the meteorite. The Herd is welcomed to come and go as they please to visit this site and it will be treated with the utmost respect and defiling or intrusion within the boundaries of the shrine will be met with heavy discipline. While the conflict has settled, the forest is still off limits to Students and similarly to the shrine, anyone violating the forest boundaries will face punishment, if you are lucky to survive at all."

From serious expression to a big smile and a clap of Dumbledore's hands. "That should do for announcements. I'm sure everyone is ravenous. Please let us know how you find the roast pork, the kitchen is trying a new recipe. With that, enjoy and once again, welcome, may we all have a happy, safe and educational year!" A wave of his hand and the feast appears on the table and the Headmaster turns to take his seat and serve himself up his own dinner.

Aasha helps herself to a reasonably-sized plate, her gaze still alert and watching for any snobbery.

Watching familiar faces being sorted into Slytherin, William keeps a half eye out for his fellow 'firsties'. When Daedalus sets next to the Half Blood Girl he grins broadly and offers a hearty thumbs up when they happen to look at Ravenclaw's Table. ""Well Sorted, Master Hat," he whispers softly.

Lissie has been very quiet this whole time, though her lips twitch when Dumbledore mentions the epidemic. Apparently she enjoyed being a seal, and she looks down wistfully at her un-webbed hands. But then he brings up the centaurs, and the girl flushes slightly. No, no points for it, but she didn't do it for points. "But I did promise a pretty sceptre. I wonder if he knows…. what happens if I fail."

Moira is in a daze as she settles in at the Slytherin table. She glances up at Aasha's call of support, and a twitch of her mouth is the best smile of gratitude that she can offer. Eventually she blinks through the fugue enough to notice Daedelus at the table as well. At least he is a familiar face, and one that isn't glaring at her. She gives him a nod and a hopeful lift of her eyebrows.

While those directly flanking her are a flurry of activity, filling their plates and chattering animatedly, Morrow's gaze lingers thoughtfully for a moment longer on both the Woodcroft girl.. and Riddle's reaction to her presence, in comparison to Oberon's. Hmm. Who does she side with? There's not so much as a flicker of giveaway in those fair features. Though she does relent to casting a wink in Samira's direction, before at last deigning to serve herself some dinner. Lapsing to conversation with the four girls surrounding her - something of a constant, the newcomers will soon realise - the brunette does now offer a genuine, charismatic curve of lips; smiling in welcome to the new faces at the Ravenclaw table as she neatly spears a new potato and pops it into her mouth.

Aasha smiles at Moira before turning her attention to her plate. Looking a bit worried, she takes a forkful of the pork. She smiles and takes another forkful.

Oberon does not seem to share Tom's enthusiasm over the half-blood in their midst. "Play nice, Riddle? If we stand for this, by next year there will be mudbloods in Slytherin. This isn't an opportunity, it's an abomination."

Aasha frowns, her expression clearly showing disgust at the Slytherins and their snobbish attitude. She offers a smile Moira's way.

After a moment, Daedalus shrugs, giving another smile to Moira and a quick nod, then turning his attention to look to Dumbledore for his speech. Once that's done, he turns back, grinning as the food appears, "Brilliant." He quickly starts to serve himself, filling his plate and starting to dig in.

Asmund has his plate full but he pauses before digging in. "Open practice tomorrow morning, not just Team players, but anyone. Even first years if you know how to fly. I'm no Hooch when it comes to flying lessons. After breakfast, it will be fun. Hope to see everyone there." He has managed to get over the sting of not getting Head Boy this year. Mostly. There was a slight grimace when the Head Boy was announced during faculty introductions. But just a slight grimace. He also has managed to keep jealous gazes towards Abraxas to a relative minimum since. So now that he can, at first chance, he is of course trying to distract himself and make his last year as Team Captain and Prefect the very best year ever.

Samira looks to Tom Riddle, ever the leader among the Knights of Walpurgis. Her expression remains neutral, but she offers a slight nod at the logic in Riddle's words. Her dark gaze flits to Oberon as he voices an outlook most Slytherin are sure to share. As if bored with the discussion of mudbloods and half-bloods, she glances off across the hall towards the Ravenclaw table. Her gaze drifts until she catches Morrow's wink. She pauses and offers a soft smile before turning to the newly-appeared feast at her table.

Aasha continues to eat, remaining mostly quiet.

Riddle gives a small shrug, and tucks into his meal.

"When will we be having tryouts?" Lissie chirps over to Asmund. "I havena missed them, have I?" She sits up, biting her lip. She fills her plate, or at least fills it to her concept of filled. She takes a swig of pumpkin juice, then straightens again.

Aasha cleans her plate in an unhurried manner, laying her napkin and empty plate aside.

Moira doesn't seem to have much of an appetite. She stares forelornly down at her empty plate, hands in her lap. Some of the intolerant words of her new housemates reach her ears, but she does not dare lift her gaze to meet their eyes. She spends the remainder of the feast in silent meditation, trying to crawl inside of herself.

The ebon-haired girl by Morrow's elbow chews rapidly, shrewd eyes taking in all the little nuances of conversation going on both here and in other nearby groups and clearly itching to talk about them with the ringleader. Instead, she settles for a safe topic, and one that's likely piqued the interest of some of their housemates. "So.. is it true you were an actual cat?" Her dark-lashed gaze settles on Selwyn, who calmly refrains from meeting it, keeping her attention on her plate and cutting some of the sweetly-spiced pork into dainty, bitesize portions.

"No." Ever the thespian, the girl takes a 'dramatic' pause in order to sip some pumpkin juice from the goblet before her. Setting it down, she smiles faintly. "..a tiger, Mildred. Get it right."

"Oh. Well.. is it true that Lestrange and Abbott got in a fight in your hospital room?" Mildred transparently wants to get a firm grasp on the gossip, if only so she can spread it as if it were fact that she's been privy to all along. The other girls glance up and between themselves, before watching Morrow for her answer to that one.

"No." The cool negative is offered again. Something of a habit, is it? Examining a piece of the lean meat, speared on her fork and twirling this way and that, the brunette sighs; an air of patient long-suffering. "..Oberon was the perfect gentleman. And let him be taken elsewhere rather than pluck and roast him." Err.. what? Faltering to a mischievous grin, she continues, blithely, "..a peacock wouldn't put up much of a fight, after all. Where's the fun?"

William nods in earnest excitement to the Toke Girl. "It's ever so nice to meet you. Sure to be famous friends, then. If you need anything, just let me know, yes?"

As he looks about he nods politely to young Miss Keir and Eoin as well. A curious look in his brother's direction just recieved a cheeky smile in turn. In his attentions over the Slytherin table and the familiar firsties, he notes what seems to be an odd interest in one of the older Ravenclaw Girls and a tall, sour face Slytherin boy. He winces at the thought of pairing. Tuely such a lovely girl can do do better than THAT.

Daedalus eats his meal pretty quickly, only pausing to talk occasionally, whether to his sister or to someone else at the table. Then, soon, it's time to eat desert, and his eyes are very wide as he looks over the selection. He takes a helping of just about everything.

William watches Aiden and Daedalus throughout the meal, offering a supportive grin should look his way. He also takes note of Lissie among the Hufflepuff and smiles at the first years there. He spares a glance toward Gryffendor's firsties before returning his attention his own table.

Now that it's on to dessert, people start to slip between the tables, to talk to friends. Josie's first target, though, is at her table, and she grins to Cillian, "Missed you this summer. Look what I got," she adds, indicating her new prefect badge.

Meanwhile, Daedalus backs his wheelchair up once he's finished his dessert, rolling over towards the Ravenclaw table. To William, he says, grinning, "Congratulations! Thought you'd get the house you wanted."

Cillian looks up from where he's settled with a grin, knee bending and arm resting over his knee where he's settled on that bench. He looks Josie over and whistles. "Well well well…congratulations!"

"Thanks," Josie says, grinning, as she sits back again. "I was hoping I'd get picked, but I didn't think there was much hope. Especially since I got in trouble for going into the Forest and using magic on my very first day out of school this summer."

"Can't help but be disappointed you not Ravenclaw," William confesses with a big grin. "But I think your Skytheries should count themselves luck to have you. All THREE of ypu. As said on the train, then. Need a hand, you can count on me. As long as it doesn't risk House Honor of course. Been warned of you Slytherin lads and your sly ways," Willaim jokes merrily.

Daedalus giggles a little, and says, "Thanks." Then, he adds, "I'm really surprised I'm not Ravenclaw, too. But I'm glad, I'm with my sister, and I think Moira needs a friend in Slytherin."

William gave a nod of agreement. "It a Clever Hat, that."

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