Authroresses Note: Hey! We're back! With a new chapter! Missed us?
So, here is the arrival of our characters to the School. Forgive the sudden burst of hyperness, further on down the page, but hey, it had to be done. Now, we need one more female character, so if you know of one from a TV show, film book or play/musical that you would like to see, then include it in your review. Bear in mind that I am English. Here is Emily come to talk to you.
'Well, hello, I appear to be Emily, and for some odd reason my dearest buddy Tessa has got me writing a crazy message to all you loon-balloons out there. This story is velly velly good, and all of yous should read it otherwise I shall find my winged monkeys and set them on you. They're very polite, though. Anyhoodles, this story if true genius, and I suggest you read it. My God, is that a banana drinking tea? I must dash, toodle-pip y'all. READ IT!'
Disclaimer: Wow, imagine how rich we'd be if we actually DID own all these characters.
Roast Potatoes and Messages from the Heads
In which we meet four new charcters and a cream pie fight ensues
They walked along the path to th e school in silence, each occupied with their own thoughts.
Draco's were black and filled with anger and revenge. That filthy Mudblood dared to freeze him, Draco Malfoy? And that commoner, that Kitty Jones. It had been all her fault. He had ended up disgraced in front of all the others in his year, whom he knew he was well above. They would all remember this now. They would whisper and talk and tell others in the School. And then everyone in the School would know!
Oh he would get back at them, even if it took all year.
Aragorn was up at the front, along-side Arwen. His thoughts were ones of bewilderment and wonder. He still didn't know what had caused that boy to turn into that…that…thing, or how the girl had managed to turn him back. They must both be very powerful; he would have to watch them…
And the School. The School was beautiful. So big and grand and majestic. He wondered who their teachers would be and what their lessons would be like, who would succeed in what subject ad who would fail…
Arwen, beside him, was occupied with thoughts on her fellow classmates. The four little ones, the Hobbits, looked rather sweet and were very funny and charming. In contrast, the boy who had been hit by the spell, Malfoy, was a thoroughly unpleasant piece of work. She had no particular views, as yet, on Hermione, past the fact that she seemed nice. And as for Aragorn…she glanced up at his face, recalling their conversation during the journey. She couldn't remember exactly what they had talked about, but it must have been pretty fascinating. The conversations had been pretty intense, from what she could remember.
Aragorn was…nice. Very...nice.
Hermione's thoughts were all of Draco and his brill- erm, hideous, horrible, disgusting transformation. It had been very funny, she was so glad she had taken photos.
Meggie seemed nice too. Though fancy finding the works of Shakespeare boring! She could see she had a lot of work to do here.
Ron's thoughts were mainly on the upcoming feast in the School. He glanced at Hermione. The glint of firelight on her hair did highlight it very prettily…
Kitty Jones was walking at the back with the girls from her carriage (Lyra, the one who had introduced herself as Elizabeth and the girl with brightly coloured hair, Georgia). Her thoughts were also on Draco Malfoy's transformation. She had to admit, it was very funny, but the comic side of it faded as she realised with a shiver that it was meant to have happened to her. If it had, she wondered, would she have been changed back? How would events have panned out differently?
Two of the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, were thinking solely about how hungry they were and hoping there would be food when they got to the School. Their arms were also aching from dragging the heavy cases around, but as long as there was food at the end, they would never be heard complaining.
And so the first-years came to Sumach School for Secondary Characters.
As they stepped inside the large entrance hall, they were hit by a wall of noise coming from an open door to their right. Delectable cooking smells wafted out of the room with the noise, but before any hungry students could dash inside and stuff their little faces, Galadriel began to speak.
"Now first-years, pile all your luggage neatly to the side against the wall to be collected later.
After the feast you are to report to Professor McGonagall who will assign your dormitory, bed, locker and give you your timetable. You shall know who she is after the feast. Thank you. Have a nice meal my dears."
There was a flurry of noise and motion as the first-years, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, placed their cases or trunks against the wall and entered. Some (Ron, the Hobbits) flung their luggage vaguely in the wall's direction and dashed in, anxious to eat. Others (Hermione, Arwen, Legolas) placed their cases neatly against the wall and swept in (the elves with effect, Hermione with none).
The layout of the Hall now needs explaining, to avoid mass confusion.
The tables were arranged so that they ran widthways across the Hall. The teachers sat at the back, on a raised platform on a long, rectangular table. The first-year table was like the teacher's, the only difference being that they were not important enough to have the raised platform.
The second-years, however, had two tables, in the shape of large semi-circles. Behind them was situated the long oval-shaped third-year table.
The fourth-year had seven vaguely rectangular-shaped tables, each sitting seven people.
Two ovals made up the fifth-year tables, much more exciting than the sixth-year's two plain rectangular-shaped ones.
Finally, the seventh-year tables stood before the teacher's. They were circular in shape, each sitting a comfortable four. Evidently, not everyone stayed until their last year. Legolas later enquired as to why and was answered 'Well, for a variety of reasons, but most of them get killed.' None of the first-years knew what this meant and eventually dismissed it as fourth-year stories. Oh how little they know.
And now, back to the feast.
As the first-years entered, they noticed several things. Firstly; the strange layout, second; the thousands of pairs of eyes (the rest of the school) trained on them and thirdly; that there were four people already seated at the first-year table.
Two, a boy and a girl, were similar in appearance and clothing, both having chosen tunic. The boy wore black, the girl a simple leaf-green and gold embroidery style. Oh and both had wings. They also spoke with American accents, something that would drive their classmates to distraction but, unfortunately, it was something they could not help.
The others were a boy and a dragon. The boy was wearing the tunic option and his colours were red and gold.
Only the fact that they were prepared for strange beings saved the first-years from gaping in awe at the newcomers. As it was, they tried to sit as normally as possible, but therein lay a problem.
The seating arrangement.
The older-years looked on benevolently and recalled their first feast fondly as they watched the new students fumble for places.
Aragorn and Arwen took the first two places, the ones closest to the door at the left end and both sat down calmly. The girl with violet eyes and chestnut curls (Arianna) sat next to Arwen. She seemed tight-lipped and sent small glares in the elf's direction when she wasn't looking.
Kitty Joes pulled out the chair next to Arianna and coughed politely.
"Can I sit here?" she enquired and Arianna, her attention off the turned back of Arwen (who was again involved in a close, intense discussion with Aragorn) smiled and nodded.
The girl Arianna had shared the train journey with, Éowyn, strolled up to see that the seat next to Arianna was taken. She shrugged and seated herself next to Kitty.
Places were quickly taken and hurried introductions were exchanged. Some already knew each other; others did not and so there was an outburst of whispers which gradually settled down and were cut short when a tall, sharp-looking woman with what looked suspiciously like a witch's hat perched on the top of her head, stood. She surveyed the assembled students solemnly and began to speak. Her voice carried a Scottish accent; crisp and precise.
"Welcome to a new year at Sumach Secondary School. The Headmistresses are unable to attend this evening and send their warmest welcomes. They also inform Mr Bond that they have this year Proofed all of the cupboards. They say that they dare him to find an openable one." There was much smothered giggling from the fifth-year table at this announcement, which the woman delivered with an expression of stern disapproval.
"And now our first-years. I am called Professor McGonagall and shall be your Head of Year this year. We would like to inform you that the swimming-pool is out-of-bounds unless with staff permission and that all weaponry, be it swords, guns, knives, ultra-hyper-space-warp timers or screwdrivers," again much smothered giggling from the upper years. The teachers also seemed amused and all peered down to one, a young man in a brown pinstriped suit who was, at that moment, wearing an expression of mock outrage.
"...is banned." The woman finished, entirely unaware of the effect she had caused.
The first-years were stunned at this announcement. Eowyn looked shocked, Aragorn looked mutinous, the guy who had spent the entire journey with a murderous sword hanging over his head looked wrathful and the guy who persisted in wearing a pirate's hat firmly on his head, staggered when he walked and insisted that everyone called him 'Captain Jack Sparrow' looked very indignant. He was clearly heard to comment, in a world-weary voice, as Professor McGonagall proceeded onto other matters "It's as if they don't trust us."
"….that is all for now, I hope you enjoy the feast." The Professor sat down and an outburst of chatter engulfed the Great Hall as the sound of ringing cutlery, chinking glasses and hungry chewing fought for top position as the loudest noise.
The feast was sumptuous. Sunday roast seemed to be the main theme, with steaming chickens, crispy roast and soft boiled potatoes, both with melted butter oozing down them, honey-coloured Yorkshire-puddings and bowls of fresh peas, sweetcorn, runner beans and (for some strange reason as they aren't actually vegetables at all, but fruit) tomatoes were situated every couple of chairs.
Giant gravy boats filled with that thick, piping hot liquid and dozens of little bowls filled with bread sauce were dotted over the tables as well.
For the vegetarians, there were fresh, crisp green salads with bright red tomatoes and rocket, potato salads and mountains of roast vegetables, in which they dug in readily, for they were not the normal, half-cooked mostly-raw ones that were normally served up at school, but sweet and tender. It was utterly divine.
Hermione, ever the polite one, turned to the tall, girly-looking blonde elf sitting next to her, glowering at the table.
"Good evening. I am called Hermione Granger, what is your name?"
The elf raised his eyes slowly upwards and regarded her haughtily "I am named Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood," he said, tossing his hair proudly.
Hermione did not know what to say to that, so she just muttered a something under her breath and turned back to Meggie.
On the other side of the table, the boy with blue and silver clothes turned to the one next to him. "Hi, I'm Will," he introduced himself. The other was silent for a while and then laughed "That's my name as well." That was as much an ice-breaker as they needed and were soon conversing along the topics of weapons (a great favourite, it seemed, among the male half of the first-year students.)
A couple of spaces along from the two Wills, The boy with the dragon and Alex were regarding each other warily. On the-boy-with-the-dragon's part, it was just the usual male testosterone-ness that prompted this, but for Alex, it was a matter of genuine concern. The dragon looked lethal.
"She doesn't like that." Alex looked around sharply as the other spoke. "She says she is called Saphira and tells us to stop glaring at each other and introduce ourselves. I'm Eragon."
Alex blinked "I'm called Alex Rider," he said "You can hear my thoughts?"
Eragon smiled "Yep."
"And talk to…to Saphira?"
She snorted softly.
"You can talk to her directly, you know, she won't hurt you," Eragon told him.
Saphira looked around with wide, innocent eyes, that seemed to say 'Me? How could you suspect me of such a thing?' They both laughed and the tension was broken.
On the other side of the table, the fire-eater, the pirate and the Egyptian were having a loud, boisterous conversation about the distrust of the staff of the students. Well, maybe conversation is not the right word for it. More of a shouting match, with each of them (especially Jack Sparrow) inexplicably getting drunker and drunker, even though the only drinks being served were water and a strange amber liquid which reminded one of Halloween.
The fire-eater turned to the two sitting next to him and said, conversationally "So, you have wings."
"Yes," the boy replied, simply.
This didn't seem to deter the man from conversation "Wow. To be able to fly. I mean, I can be invisible but flying" he looked dreamy for a moment and then said "So, anyway, what are your names?"
They glanced at each other.
"Max," said the girl.
"Fang," said the boy.
Now the man seemed slightly more aware of their wish not to talk to him "Erm, right. Well, I'm called Dustfinger and…I'll see you later then." He turned back to his nosier companions.
The boy who had accompanied the girl with violet eyes in Compartment 5 was sitting next to three of the males from Compartment 3. He seemed quiet and insubstantial and kept himself to himself, but were you to watch him; you would see eyes bright with interest and curiosity. He was, at that moment occupied with listening to the conversation next to him. It wasn't eavesdropping exactly (as the famous saying goes 'I weren't dropping no eaves sir, honest') but more of a distraction from boredom.
"So, anyway," one was saying to the others "I swung at him with my sword. See, I knew he would jump to the right, so I was positioned jus so that when he did, I would come at him from that direction suddenly and I-" he paused, frowning "Faramir, are you listening?"
The person he was speaking to glanced around guiltily and flushed (I would say he blushed, but as we all know, men don't blush).
"Of course I was, Boromir. I had just…drifted away for a minute."
"He was staring at that group of girls over there, the one including my sister," the other involved in the conversation said, pointing at the opposite corner of the table. Faramir blush- sorry, flushed again and yanked the other's arm down.
"Don't point, Éomer," he hissed and then, noting them both staring at him with amused expressions on their faces, mumbled "It's rude."
"What do you think, Éomer," Boromir said speculatively, picking up a nearby tomato "Exactly the same shade, or a bit darker?"
"No, no, much brighter. I'm surprised no-one staring. You would definitely see it from the other side of the room."
They both laughed as the thouroughly embarressed Faramir buried the face in question into a large napkin.
Finally, about an hour later, after puddings had been consumed and the pupils begun to notice how tired they really were, the plates were cleared away and a new atmosphere pervaded the hall. Noticing the looks of resignation on the faces of the teachers (or amusement, in some cases) and the excitement building up in the pupils, Merry nudged Pippin and said "What d'you think's going on?"
"SHHHH!" came the loud reply from the second-year table and, thouroughly chastised, the first –year table fell silent, as all the other years had done.
Now there was complete and absolute silence in the hall. First-years looked at each other in confusion and teachers looked at each other in apprehension.
"Ding, ding, ding!" The notes echoed throughout the hall, each higher than the other. A large, rather shiny bubble popped into existence in the middle of the hall, floating above the fourth-years table. From the bubble came a chorus of cheery voices; "Hello campers!"
This announcement elicited cheering and calpping from the older students and much excited whispering. Among the phrases the first-years heard were 'Bugsey Malone', 'cream pies' and 'water guns'.
It does not take a bear of very little brain to guess what would happen next.
"Do your work, bring homework on time and adhere to the rules, yadda, yadda, yadda," the bubble said "But for now, we are bored and have just watched Bugsey Malone. And you all know what that means…"
"CREAM FIGHT!"
If you have never got into a cream fight, or even a water fight, then all I can say is; poor, poor you.
See, there is a tradition at Sumach School, whereby, at the end of each start of year feast, a large bubble appears somewhere in midair and delivers a message from the Headmistresses. Traditionally, this massage is short, because, traditionally, some form of food fight ensues afterwards. The origins of this tradition are obscure and not something I shall go now because, quite frankly, they are rather boring.
So, back to the cream pie/water fight.
The reactions of the first-years were varied and vastly amusing. The Egyptian boy yelled something that sounded like a war cry in an obscure language and grabbed the nearest cream-filled weapon he could get his hands on.
Captain Jack Sparrow blinked, then followed the boy's actions, whooping and whirling his chosen weapon above his head. It might have been rather frightening if the said weapon hadn't been a plastic water gun. But hey, he was enjoying himself.
Hermione immediately grabbed her wand and cast some sort of shield around herself and Meggie. This meant that they could hurl as many cream pies as they wanted, but not get touched themselves. Which, all things considered, is a rather clever idea.
Legolas screamed a scream definitely reminiscent to something someone of the opposite sex would emit and gabbled something about hair and being messed up. However, this ended when a pie thrown with fantastic aim hit him on the side of the face. All thoughts of hair forgotten, he grabbed a missile of his own and aimed it at the culprit, who happened to be one of the hobbits. They retaliated with a four-pronged attack which trapped in the middle of the four, being pelted at from all sides.
The fight continued in this same vain for some while, until Professor McGonagall decided that she had had enough. This might have had something to do with the cream clinging to the side of her face and hat or it might have simply been that she had grown bored.
Whatever her reason, she raised her hands and all cream and water in the hall disappeared. The students blinked, looking down at their now-clean clothes and grinning hugely.
"Thank you students," the good professor said dryly "Now it is time for bed. Goodnight. First-year students come to me for allocation of dorms, beds and timetables."
The laughing crowd of higher years slowly dwindled as they drifted though the door and up the stairs. This left the first-years in a crowd around Professor McGonagall, who had descended from the staff table. Her colleagues had long since left through a door situated behind the staff table.
"Now, I will call your name and you shall come forward to receive your room, bed and timetable. You will then go to the Outer Hall and collect your luggage. You will find a map there as well.
Frodo Baggins?"
Frodo stepped forward.
"Bed 4 of Boys Dorm 1." She passed him a timetable and glanced back at her sheet.
"Bartimaeus."
The Egyptian boy strolled to the spot in front of her.
"Bed 9 of Boy's Dorm 1."
And so it went on. It was learnt that there were twice as many boys than girls and do the boys had two dormitories, while the girls only had one. This decision could be good, or bad, depending on which student you talked to. However, the general consensus was that it was good, though some were excepted from this decision.
They all moved out of the hall after they had collected their timetables. Some were too tired to care and just stuffed it into a bag until tomorrow. Hermione and Meggie, predictably, were not of this opinion and were discussing the merits of each subject. As they passed him, Ron was heard to mutter "Y'know, I don't think they're human. I think they're robots devised to make us feel guilty about not doing homework and taking extra options."
The dorms were on the second floor. The two boy's dorms, it was discovered, were decorated in white and blue, with the same colour bed sheets and covers. Each person has their own, separate bed, with a small table with drawers next to it. On the other side was a tall wardrobe, with space to put both clothes and possessions. Each bed had railing around and curtain-like contraption, identical to a hospital bed, which allowed the occupant to have some privacy.
A door at the end of the room opened to reveal shower and cubicles, toilets and sinks, enough for there to be no crush in the morning.
The girl's dorm had the same layout, except for the fact that the colour scheme was soft red and white. The red was soft enough for those with suspicious minds to call the colour pink, but, thankfully, no-one at that moment really cared. They washed, changed and climbed into bed. There little chatter, and when it was, it was quiet and subdued.
Gradually, they all began to drift off to sleep. The rooms and school became dark and peaceful. Nothing moved.
Except the three dark shapes that moved from room to room, dorm to dorm, opening doors quietly and peering in for considerable minutes. They said nothing and made no sound.
Eventually, they reached the end of the dorms. They stood, conversing quietly for a few minutes. Then, they moved back and disappeared into the darkness and Sumach School for Secondary Characters was silent once more.
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