In a flourish, the door swung open completely on its own. The children were now getting restless to enter the castle and Henry was no better alternating his stance on his tiptoes to get a better look inside. When he was finally able to see something, his eyes widened when they met shimmering green ones. They belonged to a poised and regal looking caster who was using his long fingers to stroke his pointed beard at the very end of his chin. He had a very serious face and Henry's first fleeting thought was this was the type of teacher you did not want to disobey.
"Presenting the firsties, Professor Garspatuon," said Hagish and took his feathered cap off with a bow. Professor Garspatuon returned the gesture with a slight bow of his head and then appraised the group of young students. It could have been Henry's imagination, but did those green eyes linger on his blue ones for a beat longer?
"Thank you, Hagish. I will lead the way from here." When he spoke, it was low, slow, and commanding rather than apathetic. Henry noticed that he carried his own wand and with a circular motion with his wrist, the door opened further. Harnock's first lakeside entrance hall was so enormous you could have fit the Doofly house as well as the one nextdoor.
The walls were stone and lit with flaming torches just as the ones back at Bingpott's National Trust bank. When Henry looked up, he noticed that the walls curved to make the hallways almost tunnel-like in construction. At the end of this hall and past the stony figure that was Professor Garspatuon, Henry noticed a large staircase that would lead them from below the ground and take them to what he hoped was the Grand Hall.
Hagish stepped aside and bid anyone that passed him friendly wishes. The front of the pack was following Professor Garspatuon. A huge hand belonging to Hagish ensnared Henry's bony shoulder and held him for a beat.
"Remember lad, stay humble, stay true...you belong here just as much as anyone. Perhaps even more." And then the boy was released. He wasn't even able to look back to see Hagish's face. Hagish's words embarrassed Henry and he took to just keeping his eyes down. He watched other students' heels and the flagged tone floor of the corridor. The children were not instructed to keep quiet so voices bounced and were amplified amongst the walls.
"Where do the older children enter Harnocks if this way is just for first years?"
"I wish we weren't paraded up in such a flourish. It's utterly embarrassing."
"I agree! The attention is already on us for being the youngest!"
"Why make it worse?"
Henry tuned the rest of the chatter out once the whole gambit of children were packed in tighter than natural comfort at the landing of the great staircase. Professor Garspatuon easily towered over the group and appraised them all once again with a definite arch in his one brow.
"I welcome you to Harnocks," he said with finality. "It is tradition for a start-of-term feast in the Grand Hall. You will be joined with the rest of the upperclassmen of the school." Henry took notice how the Professor's accent made him roll his 'r' sounds in the most fanciest of ways. "In the Grand Hall, there are four accommodating tables for each house. Obviously, since you need a House, you are not be permitted to sit and eat until you are classified into your House. Which brings me to the Classifying Ceremony. It's one of the most important traditions you will uphold here at Harnocks. You may have heard from an upperclassman how important your House will be," Professor Garspatuon crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. "Be it friends or family, they may have all formed opinions in your mind." Henry couldn't help but focus on Jon. "I hope wherever you heard your information, they gave you the courtesy to also include that your House and the students (younger and older) will be like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your House, you will lay your head in the House dormitory, and free time will be spent in your House common rooms with your Housemates." This got some students whispering and chattering excitedly.
"If you would please," was all Professor Garspatuon had to say as his hand slightly raised and everyone silenced. It seemed Henry wasn't the only kid who had a correct impression of the stoic but somehow cool, calm, and collected caster.
"There are four Houses. Alpaggard, Ivybell, Leetlefloof, and Owlenmoon. I would be remiss if I didn't remind you each house has its own noble history, lineage, prestige, and with that comes the respect for anyone that gets classified. Be it family, friend," those green eyes were most definitely fixed on Henry now, "or foe." Professor Garspatuon raised his head every so slightly to again scan the group. "Each house has produced outstanding and powerful witches, wizards, warlocks, casters, and magical sims. Your stay at Harnocks will be monitored by your House leaders. Any triumphs will be rewarded by the earning of House credits," if possible, his face got even more serious, "any rule-breaking or disobedience will be consequenced with the loss of House credits." A flourish of chatter arose from the children until Professor Garspatuon put his hand up again. He didn't even have to speak a word this time for the children to become silent.
"The end of the year will result in a counting of the collection of House credits. The House with the most points is awarded the House Cup. This is a very high honor to achieve, younglings. I hope and expect each of you to be a part of the credit to whichever House becomes yours." His eyes lingered on some of the students with crumbs on their robes from the trolley, frizzy hair from the humidity off of the lake, Taryn's cloak which was backwards, and Jon Parsley's unzipped trousers.
"The Classifying Ceremony will begin in five minutes time. This is during which our Headmaster, Iris Simbledoor, welcomes the upperclassmen and gives them expectations and decorum of her very own. Take heed that this is your first impression to the faculty and student body at Harnocks. I suggest...you smarten up as much as possible for this magnificent occasion."
Henry took his cue once he noticed others frantically fussing over their appearance. He straightened his glasses and smoothed his hair. He wished he had known where to get a new pair at Caster's Alley.
"You are to keep your voices at the bare minimum for I have to get to my post at the faculty table. Once these doors open you are to walk down the aisle way and stop at the Headmaster's podium. Any students observed running or stepping foot on the platform where the podium and faculty table resides will be given a consequence...of the highest degree." Without another word he disappeared through the doors without giving away exactly what was behind them. They must be thick, because it didn't seem as if there was a Headmaster giving a speech or an entire student body just waiting to gawk and point and a wide-eyed first year. Henry's heart sank when he realized he agreed with the chatter and commotion that was said before they all climbed these steps. He felt like cattle.
"How do they classify us into our Houses exactly, Jon?" Henry asked to get his mind off of it. Jon sort of jumped when he heard Henry's voice. He imagined Jon was taking Professor's rules of voices low to be none at all. "Hagish mentioned it had to do something with your traits?"
"Yeah...it's like, some sort of test, I think," he bit his lower lip. "Matthew says it hurts and upperclassmen judge you by if you squeal or not," Henry felt his eyelids drop at something so ridiculous. "Yeah...you're probably right...that can't be true," Jon stammered.
Henry didn't want it to, but his heart began to pick up speed. He had never been a good test taker. While he didn't believe it could actually hurt, if it had something to do with magic, Henry knew nothing! He shouldn't be expected to do something magical first thing upon arrival. In front of everybody, no less! Looking around, he noticed most of the children looked exactly as Henry felt. Not very many of them were talking. Esmani Ghadjer had some sort of pocket-sized book she was scanning very fast judging by her eye movements. There was one voice though that was just above a whisper to be considered rude and against the Professor's instructions.
"I have practiced many spells over the summer," Kimmi Slymer boasted. "Father made sure of it. Whatever these traditional tories make me do, I'll be ready for it!" Lobby and O'Doyle snickered and gave their friend a thumbs up. The nerves were ascending to staggering heights. Henry couldn't remember the last time he felt this way. Not even when he took a report card home from school to Aunt Daisy and Uncle Vincent. Not even the time when his teacher mentioned in the comments that by some fault of Henry's her eyebrows had been dyed green. Any second now, Headmaster Simbledore would finish her speech and those doors would open. Don't forget how to walk. Don't forget how to walk. Henry's eyes were fixed on those doors.
"What in the h…?!" A student pointed upwards and Henry craned his neck. Some children squealed. Some screamed. Esmani looked up for a second and then shrugged, turning back to her book. Jon hit Henry in the stomach to get his attention, probably meaning to aim for his shoulder.
Mere inches from the top of their heads, twenty some ghosts ebbed and flowed towards the wall of the entrance doors. There were all kinds of different colors but transparent at the same time. As some went through the window, some glided lazily and chatted amongst themselves. For a second Henry wondered if they could see the living children below them. His question was answered.
"Look at the new crop! I hope to see you in my house," this ghost looked like a very fat monk. He had old tattered robes and he was the color purple. Inside his translucent body, pulsating orbs like a lava lamp would bubble and burst.
"Leetlefloor is not the House for a couple of them I can tell," said another ghost. He was almost just a disembodied voice. You could barely see him except for hints of smoky black that made up his limbs and what Henry assumed were his eyes. By far the creepiest, Henry shivered. "Stop the conversation or we will be late. And forgive old Sceeves. I know you don't think he's a ghost but he does make the castle a bit more fun at times."
Slowly and with a loud, low creak, the door began to open. Every face in the group forgot about the ghosts and looked towards their entrance. Some began to breathe quicker, some mussed their appearance quickly, some wiped errant tears of embarrassment or nerves.
The aisle was wide enough for about three students and Henry was pretty impressed that a bunch of eleven year olds walked slowly and almost somberly through the doors. Henry could see Simbledor still behind her ornate podium. Professor Garspatuon was on the platform gesturing for them to continue forward. On his left, was Jon Parsley, and on his right, was a girl with strawberry blonde hair. His legs felt like lead or metal that hadn't seen oil in years and yet they still allowed him to walk and keep pace.
Once Henry's part of the group passed through the archway of the doors, an exhale escaped his lips without his permission. The Grand Hall was something that could barely be imagined. He looked to his right and saw two long tables with the upperclassman from the Houses Alppagard and Owlenmoon. Alppagard students were seated closest to the aisle and as he passed, he tried to make out a familiar face belonging to a Parsley but it was impossible. To his left he saw the Houses of Leetlefloof and Ivybell. Overhead, the tables were lit with long, white candle sticks floating in midair. Each of the four tables were adorned with glittering silver plates and chalices. At the front of the hall was a platform with another long table. The teachers were sitting there.
At the end of the walk, Professor Garspatuon merely had to twirl his index finger for the first year brigade to turn. Their backs were now to the adult faculty and they were facing the tables of upperclassmen as well as the door from where they had come. Henry looked up and noticed a huge glass ceiling. He did not want to meet the eyes of all of the older kids looking at him. The ghosts were milling and hovering about, looking down curiously at the students as well.
"The ceiling is just a regular glass ceiling you know," Esmani whispered to the girl next to her, "but the Headmaster can bewitch it to look like anything. Day, night...raining, snowing. My guess is this is just natural right now. I read it in…"
Henry ignored the rest and just looked up. It didn't seem like a ceiling was there at all. Just a huge, gaping hole that led to the universe. The black, brimless caps all first years were to wear began to feel heavy and hot on top of his head. He fidgeted with it and realized Professor Garspatuon was talking.
"Headmaster Simblodore, staff, and students," Henry couldn't see him speaking from behind him but took note of his commanding voice. "Please welcome this year's class of first years." He saw some older kids nod respectfully while others made silly faces kindly to ease tension. Some students turned their noses up, and even some rolled their eyes. "You may turn, first years," Professor spoke and the group did as they were told. Henry realized he had placed an unremarkable wooden stool. On top of it was an old wizarding cap. Wrinkled, tattered, and patched with a midnight blue square of fabric on one side. Someone as finicky as Henry's Aunt Daisy would have tossed it in the bin years ago.
Maybe it is painful to put on, Henry couldn't help but think and watched for Jon's reaction. He looked almost as translucent as the ghosts above him. Everyone was staring at the cap, Henry noticed. He did the same, wondering if the collective gaze of the entire school made it...do something…?
"It is my honor," a pause for grandeur, "to present to you for the 679th year," another pause, "Harncock's very own...Classifying Cap!" Professor Garspatuon bellowed and the students clapped. Henry did so in a daze. When the applause ebbed, one of the wrinkles split and formed a wide mouth...the hat actually began to sing:
I may not be the prettiest to you,
But I'm not a simple, average hat-it's true,
I'll bet you I'm the cleverest at hand,,
And boy, do I have work to do.
Keep your bonnets for a maiden,
Keep your bowlers for a chap,
For I'm Harnocks Classifying Cap,
And not to be brazen…
There is not anything I can't find,
Your head is not closed off to me,
The Classifying Cap can see it all,
Where you shall rightfully be.
Does your heart belong to Alpaggard?
Outgoing and adventure awaits,
Their handy nature and cheer
Is a Leetlefloof's fate.
Or are you that of Ivybell kin?
Being clever and rational.
Those genius kids are organized
And steadfastly traditional.
There could be an Owlenmoon,
With wisdom to spare,
Their creativity can problem solve
With a think and a pair and a share.
So on your head I go! Don't have a fright!
No fleeing like a rat!
You're safe and sound (though I have no ears)
For I'm a Thinking Hat!
The entirety of the Grand Hall exploded in a thunderous applause as the hat finished on its bellowing note. The pointed tip of the wizarding hat bowed to each of the four tables once, then once to Professor, then once to Headmaster Simbledore. Henry was haunted by the Gregarian nature of the song. The only reason he knew of that genre was because it was some of Ms. Snealy's favorite music. The feminine voice that had since gone quiet left the hat very still and back to its original form.
"So that's it...we've just got to put on a hat," Jon fidgeted with the one that was already on his head, "I'm gonna throttle Matthew. He said at one point, a class of first years had to wrestle a zombie." Henry smiled weakly in return but wondered if there were zombies in the Realm of Magic. He looked towards the ghosts. Anything was becoming possible in Henry's mind nowadays. The news that it was just a hat to be tried on comforted Henry considerably. He just didn't understand what in the world tradition had made it to be so...public. Couldn't the kids have all tried it on in the corridor and walked up the staircase to just sit at their tables. Henry was hungry and wanted to feast! Then there was the House description that the cap gave. At the moment, Henry didn't feel like he had any of those traits. Which House would be for kids that felt like they were about to throw up tons of Harnocks trolley candy?
Headmaster Simbledore stood calmly and serenely behind her podium and looked fondly at her newest additions. Next to her, Professor Garspatuon held a scroll of parchment with what Henry assumed were this gaggle of nervous kids' were like, a hundred kids up here! It'd be like a dull graduation ceremony waiting for your name to be called!
"When your name is called, you will sit on this stool, set your trainer's cap on the floor next to you, put on the Classifying Cap, and wait for its decree," Professor Garspatuon answered Henry's internal thoughts. "Abney, Lilah!"
A pudgy girl with sandy blonde pigtails stumbled and struggled to the front. As she was told, she plucked off her trainer's cap, set it to her left, and took the cap from Professor Garspatuon. It fell right over her eyes. Henry was thinking she was holding her breath when…
"LEETLEFLOOF!" the cap shouted in almost a shriek.
The table closest to the aisle opposite Alpaggard, in all yellow stood up and cheered. Lilah blushed and followed Professor Garspatuon's gesture to sit with her new House. She took off the cap, handed it to the professor, put her own cap back on, and found a seat at the Leetlefloof table. Older kids were shaking her hand and giving her high fives.
"LEETLEFLOOF!" Screamed the cap again, and much the same as Lilah did, a girl called Holly Bagot scampered to sit next to Lilah at the Leetlefloof House table. The fat monk ghost did backflips and chuckled merrily.
"Bassanious, Oscar!" Exclaimed Professor Garspatuon.
"OWLENMOON!" Screeched the Classifying Cap. The students were flowing through the motions so easily it began to sound like a call and response. Enter a student's name, emerge classified with a House. The table all in blue next to Alpaggard stood to clap and gave their newest house member thumbs up.
"Beaty, Thomas!"
"ALPAGGARD!"
Henry didn't know why but he felt a rush of jealousy for Thomas. The dark skinned boy proudly jumped off of the stool and almost forgot his trainer's cap he was so excited to meet his new House members. Henry saw Matthew Parsley ruffle Thomas's hair.
"Burt, Joseph!"
"IVYBELL!"
It could possibly have been Henry's imagination, but as Joseph walked towards the table, despite the friendly welcome, as a whole...the group seemed...sort of unpleasant. This whole business was making Henry sick with anxiety. It was like a dull graduation mixed with being picked for a sports team in gym class. Henry always was picked last. Those were the days when people were unfriendly to Henry just so they wouldn't have to answer to Curtis.
As the ceremony went on, Henry noticed that sometimes the cap blurted out a House the moment it was placed on the kid's head. Other times, it took awhile, like the house was thinking. Maybe these kids had conflicting traits? Terrible thoughts came to fruition in Henry's mind as they do when one is nervous. What if he wasn't picked for a House at all? What if he sat there, the cap on his head...and Professor Garspatuon only waited for a minute or two before he yanked it off his head and told Henry to be on the next trolley home?
"Ghadjer, Esmani," Professor Garspatuon said and Henry realized he missed out on a bunch of kids' sortings. The girl from the train could barely keep her trainer's cap on with her cottony, frizzy hair spilling from underneath it. Henry watched as she confidently walked up the short step onto the red carpeted platform. She even nodded her head politely to both Headmaster Simbledore and Professor Garspatuon which Henry thought was a nice touch and one he would copy. She took the cap and sat down eagerly, her poise slipping away into excitement.
"ALPAGGARD!" Shouted the hat and Jon moaned. Henry faintly smiled. He would have pegged her as an Owlenmoon...but there must be more to her than meets the eye. He watched the other girl from the train jump in shock when her name was called out.
"Goodfellow, Taryn!" Nervously, she clutched her always missing toad in one hand. Henry internally cringed when he watched her stumble up the platform. Some Ivybell students were snickering and Henry frowned. He did not want to be like them. When the cap was put on her head, visions of Henry's daydream seemed to be coming true. The cap just...sat there...it could have been seconds but it felt like minutes. Would Taryn be sent home?
"OWLENMOON!" Taryn jettisoned herself off the stool and forgot to give back the Classifying Cap. Students erupted into laughter as the red-faced girl meekly handed it back to Professor Garspatuon. Huh. Henry did not see that one coming. Jack looked very pleased and patted the empty space on the bench for Taryn to sit.
A few more Ivybell students were classified, a few more Leetlefloofs...Henry's attention was coming in and out of focus just waiting for the P's.
"Parsley, Jonathan!" Henry watched his friend push through the thinning crowd. As he made his way up, he looked over at the Alpaggard table to see Perry and Matthew looking over heads. When Henry turned his head to the other side, he noticed at the blue Owlenmoon table, Jack was doing just the same. The hat was lowered onto Jon with his shaky hands. Henry squinted. He could see Jon's mouth moving...but couldn't hear him to be saying anything. The cap twisted and turned as if it was thinking.
"ANOTHER PARSLEY IN ALPAGGARD!" The house bellowed and Matthew jumped to his feet quickly or Henry might have missed it, Jack used her thumb to push the tip of her nose up. Matthew returned the gesture by making a heart with his two hands. Maybe they had placed bets. Or maybe they had wished Jon to go in either of their Houses and Matthew's won. Either way Jon had a relieved smile when he was able to sit next to his brothers...furthest away from Esmani that he could.
"McNamara, Jesse!"
"ALPAGGARD!"
"Platel, Jasmine!"
"LEETLEFLOOF!"
"Platel, Jenica!"
"OWLENMOON!"
Somewhere in the back of Henry's mind, he was surprised to see sisters, let alone twins, get sorted in different Houses, especially when they seemed so similar...
He was shaken from his thoughts as Professor Garspatuan's formal voice brought his attention back to the present.
He waited with baited breath.
"Puffer, Henry!"
Henry's brain told him to move, but at the announcement of his name, whispers suddenly broke out as if ten or twenty feral cats were let loose in the Grand Hall.
"What...no way…"
"Puffer, did he say...like the…"
"Mr. Puffer...step forward, please," Professor Garspatuon said gently but with finality.
Crap. He was blowing it.
He wiped his clammy hands on his robes before making his way up the platform, making sure to pick up his feet and not to trip. Slowly he removed his trainer's cap, setting it next to the stool before straightening stiffly and taking the Classifying Cap from Professor Garspatuon and sitting down. Craaaap. He forgot to bow or smile or show some sort of respect. But he was sitting and put the cap on quickly so he didn't have to look out among the throng of students young and old who were probably gaping at him. The room went black as the brim of the cap fell past his eyes. Henry had an errant thought of lice when the old musty smell of the hat invaded his nostrils. But he waited.
"Hmmmm," mused a small voice as if it was speaking directly into Henry's ear. "This is tricky...this is tricky. Plenty of adventure and bravery in this one's heart. Not a bad mind, I see despite so much...pain. Hey! What's this? Talent...creativity even...an air to prove oneself, eh?" Henry realized the cap must slow down time or something because he bet that kids were counting the minutes just as he had done. Gripping the sides of the stool Henry began to chant.
"Anything but Ivybell...not Ivybell…"
"Not Ivybell, hm?" That little voice said. "Are you positive? You would be great, you know...I have it all here...right in your head. Ivybell would help you achieve your ambitions. Unlock that cleverness within you but...I guess if you insist...you better be an ALPAGGARD!"
Henry felt himself blink once. Twice. Three times before the whooping and hollering started. As he took off the Classifying Cap, he noticed his Alpaggard House mates were cheering the loudest of any first year yet to be sorted. Relief then washed over him as he realized he was not in Ivybell. As he reached to put on his trainer's cap, he realized that the inside lining, once black, was now that purplish red of the Alpaggard House.
On shaky legs, Henry was met by the Alpaggard students with rough claps on the back, high fives, huge grins, and a first bump from Matthew Parsley. Perry Parsley even got up and shook Henry's hand with vigor. "We got Puffer! We got Puffer!" A couple of rowdy boys began to chant. That eerie, blackish wispy ghost dove towards him and patted him on the shoulder. It felt like Henry's whole left side was submerged in sub-zero water. More names were being called as Henry situated himself on the large bench at the Alpaggard table.
He could clearly see the Faculty Table now. At the very end, just behind Simbledore's podium, sat Hagish. They caught eyes and the former gave Henry a charming smile and a little wave. Henry grinned in return. He took in Headmaster Iris Simbledore who stood pleasantly behind her podium observing each young student get classified into his or her house. She looked exactly like her Popkins card. Henry could surmise that the large gold chair in the middle of the table would belong to her. Her silver and white hair glimmered as much as the Alpaggard Ghost's body. Henry also spotted Professor Querkle who looked like she was about to throw up but she cleaned up nicely. She wore a rather large Victorian brimmed hat.
"Slymer, Kimberly," Professor Garspatuon exclaimed and Henry didn't know why but he perked up. He had to know, for some reason unknown to him, where the bratty girl from the robe store and the trolley would be placed.
The girl in question had the fakest smile on her lips looking more like a sneer. She swaggered toward the front and waved in a showboating way towards each House table as if the choice wasn't going to be obvious.
It barely touched her head.
"IVYBELL!"
She joined her friends Lobby, O'Doyle, and the rest of the Ivybell crew. They all seemed to have a high pitched chortle that reminded Henry of hyenas. He shook his head to forget about it. This was what he was waiting for. As a couple of names continued to be called, Henry took in the sight of his Alpaggard House mates whispering and chortling. Henry also took note of the familiar first year faces that were now Alpaggards for the rest of their time at Harnocks.
"Can someone change Houses, Jon?" Henry wanted to know.
"Nope! In the seven years that you're here...you're in the same House for the whole time," Jon answered and stared longingly at his empty plate.
Henry looked down at his empty silver plate, too. He didn't realize just how hungry he was. The sweets on the trolley seemed like years ago. Perry and another Alpaggard girl started putting their fingers to their lips to shush the younger students and Henry realized Iris Simbledore was about to speak again. Her arms were spread wide and she was beaming at each and every student as if nothing could have made her happier to see them. Professor Garspatuon was rolling up his scroll of names and moving the stool with the Classifying Cap out of the way. Once done, he rounded the table and took a seat in the empty chair to the right of the gold one for the Headmaster.
"Welcome to my fully composed Harnocks student body!" She said and the room erupted in applause. Welcome to a new year, welcome to the new faces, and welcome to the faces of yester-year!" She paused with an almost grandmotherly smile as she seemed to drink up every one of the over a thousand faces staring back at her. "Before we begin the feast I have a few words," most students sat upright with grave reverence. This must be important! Henry did the same. "And those words are: Flibbity! Jibbity! Bop! Try! Cranberry Pie!"
"Thank you!" She finished with a large, cheeky grin.
She rounded the long table and sat on the wonderous, gold chair in the middle. Everyone clapped and cheered. Henry didn't know whether to laugh or crack some sort of code. Is there a Magical Realm language he wasn't fluent in or…?
"Is she...a bit crazy in the head or…" Henry asked Perry with uncertainty.
"Crazy?" Retorted Perry as if Henry had asked a vile question. "She's a genius! I would say she is the best wizard in the entire universe! But…" he stared off into the distance, "yeah...you could say a bit crazy, yeah."
"Mashed potatoes, Henry?" Matthew asked with a large serving bowl in his hands. Henry's mouth fell open. The dishes that had been in front of him were now piled high with foods of all kinds. He was done asking himself if it was real and moved on to questions such as how is this even achieved? How could magic spawn every food Henry could imagine that he ever liked to eat in his entire life?
Roasted chicken, chargrilled steaks, tender beef, pork chops, and even lamb chops, too. There were sausages, random strips of bacon, and potatoes of every kind. Boiled, mashed, baked, and fried. Ethnic foods such as sushi and enchiladas as well as sides such as peas, carrots, corn on the cob. Henry's eyes couldn't take it in fast enough because serving bowls and platters were whizzing by him at top speed.
Henry will admit that the Dooflys never once did starve him. However, it was safe to say he was never exactly allowed to eat as much as he wanted. Curtis would always take, and take, and take. Curtis had the habit of eating until he was sick. With acceptance to everything that was offered to him and then some, Henry began to eat. Not only did the food look and smell divine, it tasted delicious.
"You make that look really tasty, lad," the disembodied voice said right next to Henry. His voice was sad and Henry realized he was shoving perfectly cut pieces of steak into his mouth. Up close, he realized the ghost actually pulsated in and out of focus. For two seconds he is a smoky gray (but remember also see-through) male figure. Very old timey looking. Henry couldn't place it. Two seconds after all but his limbs disappear and are outlined in black smoke. His eyes are two black orbs. It looks creepy, until you see the kind eyes of the smoky gray figure two seconds after that.
"You can't…?"
"I haven't eaten in nearly five hundred and sixty four years," said the ghost sadly. "I don't need to, mind you, but you miss it when you see generations of alive ones eating merrily. I'm terribly sorry I haven't introduced myself. I know you as the great Henry Puffer but you don't know me. I would tell you my Watcher given name but I don't really remember. My demise has made me very forgetful."
"I know who you are!" Jon said exuberantly with his mouth full of dinner roll. "My brothers told me all about it! You're...Barely Bludgeoned Bob!"
"I would prefer it...if you'd just call me Bob," the ghost sighed. "Or at least Robert. Bob is such a disgusting, modern nickname. Whatever my real name could be...I hope it to be something less…"
"So why'd they call you 'Barely' Bludgeoned," a boy with a very thick accent interrupted. His name was Patrick O'Rourke. A first year just like Henry. The ghost in question wrinkled his nose upon being visible and stayed that way for three more cycles of his after life appearance before he spoke.
"People are eating, child," he was very visibly miffed and spoke as if he wanted to be talking about anything else. Henry found him extraordinary. Patrick pressed on.
"Oy' mate! Piss off with that sissy chumpy sort! Show us why yins be 'barely' bludgeoned. How?"
"Like THIS," poor Bob snapped. He turned around and lifted his hair to reveal the back of his head where it met his neck. Very visibly, there was a large dent in that area. Someone must have tried to bash the poor sod's head in, but either failed, or couldn't finish the job. Releasing his hair covered the indent and Bob smiled serenely at the shocked and disgusted faces of the first years that had taken notice of the conversation.
"And that can't be killing a grown man like you," Patrick paused, a bit confused with the terminology, "were." Bob the ghost just shrugged.
"For centuries people have looked into my death. Every ghost at Harnocks and every ghost in the magical realm gets assigned a color upon death." Henry stopped chewing to hear this. It was that easy to tell how a ghost died? "You'll learn about it in one of your classes but I can tell you a few like," he counted on his fingers, "death by fire leaves your spirit reddish orange with flames and smoke in your innards," he thought some more, "drowning leaves you blue and always dripping," he tapped his head, "see what I mean? Nothing else comes to mind. But I'll tell you this. Not a single wizard knows what caused my death. I'm the only ghost that looks like...this."
The group of students listening looked at each other excitedly.
"Don't worry yourselves! I'm just as happy as a clam to be the Alpaggard House Ghost," Bob was clearly changing the subject and the students wordlessly all agreed to oblige. "I can expect great things from this new group. Maybe even some aid in winning the House Cup Championship this year? Alpaggard hasn't won in three years! Ivybell won it last year and the year before that. It only takes two wins in a row for the Revengeful Regal to become downright unbearably snooty." Henry and the other children looked towards where Bob was looking. "He's the Ivybell ghost."
His spiritual body was dark green. Images of creepy and terrible nature were floating in his innards in vibrant neon green. Henry wanted to ask Bob the cause of death badly but had a feeling he wouldn't know. The ghastly ghost was sitting right next to Kimmi Slymer and at least, to her credit, she looked just as terrified if not as disgusted as Henry felt looking at such a...thing.
"Why is he revengeful?" Patrick chose to ask with great interest.
"Either I've forgotten or never asked...I can't remember which," said Bob.
"I can't eat another bite," Jon moaned some time later. It had seemed that most students were slowing down. With each decree of defeat, the students' remaining food would disappear completely from his or her plates. Left, was the same shining silver that greeted them hours prior. In an instant, the desserts appeared. Jon whined.
Pies of every fruit and flavor, tarts, donuts with any kind of filling and frosting, fruits, jellies, jams, puddings, and…
"The Realm of Magic didn't have ice cream up until about ten years ago," Jon informed Henry. "Simbledore really liked it from her time in the Normie world."
"Ohhhh and it looks ever so amazing," Bob was heard but not seen somewhere off to the right of Henry. He had to focus up, because some of the boys were chattering and Henry did not want to miss the chance to get to know some new friends.
"I'm more half-and-half than what goes in your cuppa," crooned Patrick, "call me Paddy by da way. Now listen, me da's a Normie...an' me mom didn't tell him she was a witch til' after da wedding. He was so shocked he was in a coma for three days. Whatta start to the honeymoon, eh?"
Everyone around him roared with laughter.
"...and I really liked Taryn," Henry tuned out the rambunctious boy's discussion and focused on Esmani Ghadjer talking to some other Alpaggard first years. "Her gran brought her up good and proper as a witch. Get this, her family thought she was 100% Normie. She showed her magic way late. About eight years old! Her gran's brother tried to startle it out of her! Throw her out windows and from high bridges. She even nearly drowned once! But then one day...she bounced! Sad family. Barely believed she'd make it here. I guess she must have something special in her noggin being placed in Owlenmoon. Her toad is even…"
"But you're 100% Normie born though, right," a squeaky-voiced Alpaggard second year asked. Henry only knew this because she did not have a trainer's cap on but still looked to be his age.
"Well...my parents are...I'm not too privy on the genetics of it all but…"
"Transfiguration! That's my most favorite lesson in Magic of Practicality."
"Magic of Mischief! Most notably Burliate!"
"Transfiguration! You dirty klepto, geez!"
"Magic of...OH! Jack! What in the…?!"
Henry's attention was taken away from Esmani by the arguing of Perry and Matthew Parsley. Henry assumed they were fighting over which class was the best at Harnocks. Somehow...the one and only Jack appeared from under the table. She made herself comfortable and snatched a blueberry scone.
"You moron! You'll lose fifty credits already for leaving your table," Perry hissed. Jack just shrugged her shoulders.
"Meh, I've had worse. To tell you the truth I actually agree with you, Perry," the older boy's mouth fell. He hadn't expected that. "It's pretty dope turning sh...sh-tuff into other...stuff. Like matches into needles your first year and then on to pretty big things like cats into capuchin monkeys." Henry was now convinced Jack had a very vulgar mouth when not around eleven year olds.
"I've been betrayed!" Mattew gasped and put both hands to his mouth. Jack threw an arm around his thick neck and pulled him down to noogie him with her two knuckles. Matthew cackled and squealed.
"Why care about Magic of Mischief when I've already got enough in spades with you," she released him with a chuckle. "Also...I have this idea...of maybe," she whispered her plan into Matt's ear. His large grin nearly split his face into two.
"I calculate three points of exit, a wire coat hanger, a rubber band, three spells that I'm sure you know, a hammer, and…" Matt scanned the table, "that." Jack's eyes went wide.
"OH no…Matt you promised mom!" Perry said. He and Jack just squinted.
"Can we make two?" She said out of the side of her mouth.
"Yep," Matt said.
The two high fived under the table. Matt grabbed what he needed and Jack shoved three more scones into her…(don't blush) bra. The two slipped under the table and were out of sight until a small hand reached up to grab a huge chocolate muffin. A large hand reached up to grab some peanut butter.
"You know me SO well," Jack's voice was getting fainter.
"Yes, yes I do...exit point 2 shall do it," answered the fainter voice of Matt.
They were gone.
"I'm going to suck at my job if I can't even control my brother," Perry whined and made a move to get up until Henry's voice shocked him enough to sit back down.
"Ouch!" Henry clapped his hand to his head. Right over his scar.
"What is it, Henry? What's wrong?" Perry asked with genuine concern.
Henry had been watching Jack and Matt warmly and sleepily. The food was digesting well and Henry just felt...heavy. As the scene had played out, Henry watched the teachers at the Faculty Table. Hagish was drinking chalice after chalice of...something. Professor Garspatuon was talking to Headmaster Simbledore fondly. Professor Querkle, in her fancy hat, was talking to a teacher with a pale, greasy face, hooked nose, and cold eyes.
She wore a blue and purple head wrap and her eyes left her conversation partner to look straight into Henry's. That's when the sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on his forehead.
"Noth...I guess...nothing…?" Henry sputtered.
The pain had gone as quickly as it had arrived. What wasn't as easy to shake off was the feeling Henry got when he looked at that sallow teacher taking to Querkle. That look she gave him...as if she didn't like Henry one bit.
"Perry, who's that teacher talking to Professor Querkle?" Henry asked.
"Oh! You know Querkle, eh? I can imagine why'd she be looking nervous. She's talking to Professor Snabes. She teaches potions and alchemy but everyone knows she doesn't really want to. She's after Querkle's job. I'd say she knows almost too much about the Untamed Arts of Magic, Snabes does."
Henry watched Snabes for a bit, but she didn't look at Henry again.
Soon after, the desserts disappeared and that was Headmaster Simbledore's cue to get to her feet and round the table to her podium again. The Grand Hall fell silent.
"Pardon me! Just...a few more words for now that we are all fat, dumb, and happy. There are a few start-of-term notifications I have for you all," she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
"First year students should always bear in mind that the forest on the Harnocks grounds is absolutely not allowed to any and all pupils. Some upperclassmen would do very well indeed to be reminded of that as well."
Simbledore's twinkling eyes matched her whimsical face. She had her gaze set in the direction of Matthew Parsely who Henry hadn't noticed had returned from whatever he and Jack had gotten up to.
"I've also, with regards from Mr. Feltch, the caretaker, to remind you all that magic will not be permitted in between classes and in the corridors."
"Grilled Cheese Dueling tryouts will be held in the second week of this term. If you feel as if you are interested in playing for your House you should take responsibility for contacting Madam Hoover," Simbledore gestured towards a witch at the Faculty Table that looked like an owl with spiky, short, gray hair.
"And finally! I must tell you all that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side that houses a couple of out-of-order bathrooms is deemed out of bounds to anyone that does not wish to die a very painful death."
Henry laughed a short, bursting sound. He and only Patrick.
"Wait...Perry is she...serious?" Henry had to ask.
"I think so," said Perry with a frown towards Simbledore. "It's weird...because she usually just gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere. The forest I get, it's full of creatures and beasts that are dangerous. Everyone knows that. I never knew of a place in the school to be off limits. Maybe she has yet to let on to us Princeps what's going on." He looked to the girl about his age who Henry guessed was the Princep for the Alpaggard girls. She just shrugged looking just as annoyed with Perry's existence as Henry was beginning to see everyone was.
"Bedtime is fastly approaching SO, before all of that we shall sing our school song!" cried Simbledore. Henry noticed that almost every teacher's smile looked fake at the Faculty Table. Snabes wasn't even trying. Her black, painted lips were drawn in a thin, straight line turned down slightly at the corners. Maybe this was a new thing that everyone was not totally on board with?
"Any tune will do!" Exclaimed Simbledore. She shot burgundy, green, yellow, and blue ribbons out of the tip of her strangely crafted wand with a flick of her wrist. The ribbons floated up and above the House tables. Lyrics were printed on them.
"And a one-uh, AND a two-uh!" Simbledore was using her wand like a conductor.
The whole school chorused:
"Harnocks, Harnocks, Harny Nocky Harnocks,
Learn us something good and proper,
Drop our jaws,
Fall right off our rockers!
Our brains need the knowledge,
poured right in the head,
We could be sitting on our kiesters,
But we're learning instead!
So teach us stuff worth keeping,
Remember what we miss,
Just do your best, and nothing less,
And bask in academic bliss!
Everyone finished at different times and Henry didn't even finish after he began cracking up at the kiester part. Matt and Jack held the last note together the longest. The only voices in the whole Grand Hall. Simbledore cut them off with her wand and they followed which made her clap hysterically from her podium.
"Ah! Music, music, MUSIC!" She said and wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye looking back and forth between Matt and Jack. "Such a magic beyond all that we do here at this school. And NOW! Off you pop! To bed! Lead Boys and Lead Girls to your posts and Princeps are to lead the first years to the House dormitories. Good night and fond dreams to you all!"
Alpaggard first years followed Perry through the throngs of chatter and commotion from students of every House. Out of the Grand Hall, the pack was led up a marble staircase. Henry's legs felt like the unoiled metal again. Or like heavy lead. He was so tired and full of food. In his dreariness, he failed to even react to the hundreds of antique and ancient portraits moving and whispering to each other. Some even pointed towards the new first year students. Henry should have been paying more attention, but failed to note Perry was leading them through sliding doors, tapestries, corners, and bends in the endless stony corridors that made up the large castle of Harnocks.
The group climbed staircases and trudged along. Yawns plagued the young group and feet were dragging. Henry was getting a bit cranky as he wondered just how much longer they had to go when the whole gaggle came to a screeching halt.
Some of the stone benches were floating along the walls of this particular corridor.
"This is the work of Sceeves," Perry told the first years.
"He's a poltergeist," the female Princep informed.
"Sceeves! Show yourself," Perry commanded a bit too boastful.
A loud, rude sound of someone blowing a raspberry was the response.
"I will march right to the Revengeful Regal and out you," Perry warned.
There was a popping sound like the first kernel of popcorn and a fat, little man with wild, feral eyes appeared. His mouth was split wide in a nasty grin. His legs were crossed lazily as he floated there, he snapped and the stone benches lowered to their natural places.
"Oooooh," he cackled terribly. "Itsy bitsy firsties! Oh what fun!"
Sceeves dove low and some first years had the sense to duck.
"Be gone Sceeves, or the Regal will hear about this and I mean it," Perry barked.
The poltergeist stuck his tongue out, but vanished. Clattering and shattering of whatever was in the now invisible spirit's way were heard all down the corridor until it was left silent.
At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very lovely lady dressed in a pink silk dress. She must have been a princess in life.
"What's the password, darling?" She said sweetly and Henry didn't know why but he blushed. He looked to Jon, who was doing the same thing. In fact, most first year boys were.
"Caraladum Snu Win Low," said Perry easily. The portrait of the lady swung forward to reveal a round hole cut right into the stone wall. Perry and the female Princep ushered the group through it. What they found themselves led into was the Alpaggard common room.
It was a round and very cozy room. There were squishy armchairs and a roaring fire. The decor was in all sorts of reds, purples, maroons, and burgundies.
The female Princep (Henry wished he knew her name) directed the girls through the one door to the actual dormitories and the boys were led through another by Perry. It was at the top of a spiral staircase...they were obviously in one of the huge towers Henry had seen when taking in Harnocks's grandeur from the lake. That seemed like ages ago.
The dormitory was also a round room with a kettle in the middle and four-poster canopy beds. The bedding and everything was of silk and velvet...red of course.
Jon took a step near a bed, claiming to recognize his trunk. Henry realized that all possessions that they were told to leave on the trollies had in fact been whisked to their rooms. Henry was relieved when he saw that his belongings were by the bed next to Jon's.
"ARG!"
SPLAT!
Henry jerked his head towards Jon's cry. Apparently, with one more step, Jon tripped and triggered something. From above his bed a curly spring was tripped with a cream pie attached to the end. Jon's face and upper chest was covered in the dessert.
"Matt and Jack...I'm gonna…"
"ARGGGG!"
SPLAT!
Perry's voice could be heard from another dormitory.
I guess they did have enough to make two.
With pajamas on and full tummies, the prank dissolved into something to laugh about. Even Jon admitted that it was a good pick of pie to be covered in. He didn't mind the second round of dessert once he calmed down a bit.
Henry had never laid in such a comfy bed and was instantly out like a light switch. Perhaps it was the food, new surroundings, or the fantastical day but...Henry had the strangest dream. He was talking to Querkle's large hat...or...it was talking to him. The hat had a mouth just like the Classifying Cap. It told Henry to transfer to Ivybell House. Henry would tell the hat that he was not going to that House. Then it jumped off of Querkle's head and on to Henry's head. There, it became heavier, and heavier until it forced Henry to his knees. When he looked up Kimmi Slymer was there. She was just laughing at him struggling. The hook-nosed teacher with the large and eclectic head wrap was there too. Snabes. Her laugh was high pitched and cold. Then there was a burst of green light and Henry bolted upright.
With some trepidation, he fell back into the warm sheets only to fall instantly asleep again. When he woke up the next day, the dream was completely forgotten.