Chapter Two- Breakfast and the Assorted Happenings Associated..

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

b Breakfast.. /b

The next morning, students ambled into the Great Hall with varying levels of enthusiasm. Some bounded in and brightly drank their juice and ate, while others stumbled into the room, still half asleep, and occasionally the grumpy anti-morning person could be found among the group.

Along the Head table was much of the same, and there were some professors who hadn't even arrived yet. At one end, Bill Weasley, a very shaggy red-head and a professor of Ancient Runes, was discussing the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher(s).

"I wonder who they'll have gotten this year.." he mused aloud to his colleague, Professor MacMillan.

Freddie shook his head, "I have no idea, mate. It seems that position has switched with Defense since I was in school. Used to be, we couldn't keep a defense teacher around for more than a year. I suppose now it's that way with Care of Magical Creatures." He laughed and slapped Bill on the back, "At least we've both got our own jobs, they wont be sending i us /i out there anytime soon.. at least, I hope not." He added and took a sip of coffee.

A few seats down, Professor Vector, was trying desperately to keep her head from plopping face down into her bowl of porridge. She was not a morning person and was therefore, was making poor progress.

Just then Professor Prewett, clad in her classic purple robes that clashed brilliantly with her graying red hair, entered the Great Hall and tried not to grab the door and start banging her head on it. She was being followed closely by Professor Medina, who kept alerting Samantha to the necessity of a tarot reading for her.

"Now look Samantha, I know you have doubts in the abilities of the divine, but you must listen. In that reading I was doing last night I know one of the cards was referencing you. I can feel it!"

"Gerdie. You're going to be i feeling /i my breakfast down your front if you make me lose my appetite by discussing your ridiculous divination anymore." Prewett practically growled. This was very unusual for the head of Hufflepuff, who was normally quite bubbly and encouraging. However, she had obviously had enough of divination for one day. And if you asked her, she would have said for a lifetime.

Prewett made her way to the Head table and took her seat next to Vector with Professor Medina still so close she was practically on top of Samantha's robes, urgently trying to get her fellow professor's attention. Gerdie didn't even noticed when she scambled to take the seat on the other side of Prewett, that she knocked Professor Vector's head those last few inches into her porridge. Samantha glanced to her side and pitied her friend Jennifer Vector. 'Although,' Prewett thought, 'She might be on to something..' Prewett thought about the soundproofing possibilities porridge had as Medina went on rambling about the importance of the tarot and divination.

On the other side of the table, Mr. Dervish was sitting close to Professor Giordano and they had abandoned their breakfast in favor of various scripts for wizarding musicals. They were trying to put together a performance for the school and both seemed to be extremely dedicated to the project, however they couldn't agree on which script to pick.

"Now, Dervish." Giordano admonished, "You know very well we can't do Lakeside Story." Isabella didn't think they could argue the same point anymore. "The children will take it all out of context and before you know it, we'll have our own version being played out in the halls! I don't want to be cleaning up Slytherins and Gryffindors all semester."

Mr. Dervish chuckled as he always did when their negotiations got to this stage. "Now now moppet," he earned himself a hearty glower at the nickname, "I'm sure the students won't be running off to relive the play. And besides, it's the play with the most parts and I think we'll get a good turn out to see Slytherins and Gryffindors with an excuse to batter each other up a bit." He smiled good-naturedly, and their conversation continued along the same lines.

Out on the Quidditch Pitch, the officiators were surveying their turf. During the previous year, a Triwizard tournament had come and not only given all the officiators a vacation, but had severely damaged their beloved pitch.

"It looks lock they did a decent job…" mused one of the officials, Viktor Krum, a Bulgarian transplant. "Want to bet?" mumbled Madam Hooch, who was very disgruntled at all of her pitch being desecrated and then restructured. Ludo Bagman, the third of the officials bounced excitedly and raised his hand. He was always game for a bet, even if he lost. "Oh I do!"

"Shut up, Bagman." The other two chorused. There had previously been a fourth official, however, he had mysteriously disappeared after the last game of the season two years before and hadn't been found. At some point in time, one of the officials would have to remember to replace him. However, none of them were viable candidates. Viktor had translation problems, Bagman had gambling problems, and Hooch's 'drinking had Quidditch problems,' as some of her colleagues liked to joke. Each of the officials had gained something in their time apart during the previous year though, Viktor had gained another bump on his large, mis-shapen nose from an incident with a fellow Bulgarian during the Triwizard. Ludo had gotten lucky by betting on the Quidditch playoffs and for once came out in the positive by quite a decent sum. And Madam Hooch had gotten a tan from her vacation in Bermuda, and now had a liking for rum as a result instead of her normally favored drink of whiskey.

Viktor rubbed the bridge of his rather large nose. "I rally don't see any problem with de stadium, Rolanda. Can't we go inside and eat yet?" Large Bulgarians such as Krum couldn't go without a meal, their poor, large, muscular bodies couldn't manage if they did. Ludo turned to him conspiratorially, "I'll give you five for ten she doesn't let us go," he whispered. Viktor raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment. "I vill of course haff to take that bet, Bahgman," the Bulgarian smiled devilishly.

"Oh Rolanda?" he called and turned back to her. "Someone seems to haff spiked de pumpkin juice in the Great Hall. A first day treek or something. Perhaps we should go check dat out?"

Before either of them could say another word, Madam Hooch had already grabbed her trusty Silver Arrow and was flying towards the school, "Last one there is a rotten- I mean, yes we should probably go and help investigate that juice.."

Viktor turned back to Ludo and held out his hand expectantly. With a muffled oath, Bagman dug into his pockets. Looking up sheepishly he started, "Hey Krum, hows about you and I make a deal.." Krum rolled his eyes and grabbed Bagman by the scruff of the neck. "Forgeet it mahn. Vee must go and pull Rolanda off of some poor keed who's juice she has probably commandeered." And with mutual agreement they hurried towards the Great Hall.