The Welshman
by Hyena Cub
Rating: PG-13 for violence, language, and death, especially later on.
Genre: Harry Potter

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CHAPTER 2: The Welcoming Feast

The Entrance Hall was nice and warm. The torches on the walls gave a cheerful light, and everyone was wringing out their robes and using drying spells on themselves. None of us knew the Quick-Dry spell yet and so we all had to use the slower version. The younger students didn't know any drying spells at all, and had to stick with wringing out their clothes and shaking the water out of their hair as they headed into the Great Hall.

I was struck as always by the sheer…grandeur of the place. That might sound pompous, but it was true, there just wasn't a better word for it. Thousands of candles hung in midair, lighting the vast hall, and the torches on the walls flickered across the polished stone floor and the gleaming wooden house tables. Each table had banners with the house standards over them, adding colour to the earth tones of the Hall, and the enchanted ceiling rose meters above everyone's heads. Even the simulated stormy sky above didn't take away from the magnificence of the place.

A shove from behind took my attention from the décor. 'Move it, Weasley! You're blocking the way!'

I should have known. If there was anyone at Hogwarts I hated more than the Moor twins, I didn't know what it was. Cuthbert and Gideon Moor had to be the biggest gits in the school.

'It's not my fault you're too dim to walk around us, you idiots,' I retorted.

'Oh yeah?' snarled Gideon, taking a step forward and flexing his muscles. They were identical twins, but it was possible to tell them apart, usually. Gideon had more muscles, and he liked to use them.

Not one to back down from a fight, I clenched my fists and stepped forward, myself. 'Yeah!'

Things could have gotten nasty, but Ke'koa got between us all, 'accidentally' knocking into Gideon and apologizing in a completely insincere manner. He didn't look back as he strolled towards the Gryffindor table.

'Watch it,' Gideon snarled, taking another step forward, this time towards Ke'koa, but his brother held him back.

'It's all right. He'll regret it.' Cuthbert glared at Ke'koa's back, but Ke'koa didn't even bother looking around.

'You'll be the ones regretting it, you gits,' I said. 'Just wait 'til Quidditch starts.'

There was no more time for pleasantries then, because by that point we were all blocking the way, and the impatient shoves and complaints from behind moved us all forward. The twins strode off towards the Slytherin table, and Arcturus grinned.

'Don't worry,' he said. 'I'll slip them a little surprise in their beds tonight.'

'Like a lethifold?' said Faolan hopefully, and Arcturus laughed in surprise.

'Sorry, I don't happen to have one of those in my trunk…but I'll think of something. See you guys later, then!' And grinning, he veered off to sit at the Slytherin table.

'A lethifold?' I asked, shaking my head, as we joined Ke'koa at the Gryffindor table.

'Sounded good to me,' said Faolan with a shrug. 'I'm sick of those worthless little bastards.' Faolan wasn't normally quite so vicious, but he was easily hurt, and the Moore twins seemed to like to take advantage of that. I didn't blame Faolan for being resentful.

'C'mon, mate. Forget them, they're not worth spit.' Faolan chuckled a little and agreed.

By the time I sat down at the Gryffindor table, I was just damp, not soaking wet, and much warmer. The house tables were filling up with black-robed Hogwarts students, chattering and talking and arguing and whatnot. I looked up at the staff table, seeing that everyone was there except for Artemis (because she was bringing the first-years across the lake) and Professor Miller had to go and meet the first years at the door. Professor Miller was the Deputy Headmaster and the Muggle Studies teacher.

The Headmaster was a wizard called Victor Ryan, and he was all right, I guess. He was nice enough, seemed to be a decent Headmaster. Boring and strict, but fair. Of course when he gave us all detention for doing something insane I didn't like him as much, but at least he was fair. He gave the Moor twins detention a lot, too.

As soon as everyone was in the Great Hall was full and the doors had been closed, Professor Ryan stood up and looked calmly out at the students. He smiled a little as the students eventually quieted down, but Professor Ryan didn't say anything. Instead he turned around to look at a door set into the wall behind the high table; most everyone else also looked.

The door opened and Professor Miller came through with a gaggle of first-years in tow. I grinned at the looks of terror, awe, and excitement I saw on their faces, sometimes all on the same person. I remembered feeling a little nervous, but mostly just excited. Ke'koa had felt the sae way…we were already friends by that point, as our families knew each other well.

Professor Miller was a very average looking wizard with brown hair and eyes, and a nondescript appearance. So most of the eyes in the Great Hall were not on him, but on the hat in his hands. It was patched, frayed, and looked like it had been through Hell…maybe even literally. It looked like it had been burned at some point in its life. When professor set out a three-legged stool and set the hat on top of it, all eyes were on it. Finally, a ragged rip near the hat's brim opened, and it sang…yes, the hat sang.

A millennium ago,

I was born from cloth and thread.

A man named Godric Gryffindor

Placed me on his head.

He always kept me with him,

For I was his favorite hat,

There's little that I haven't seen,

So just remember that!

I was here when Hogwarts

Was no more than a thought,

Conceived by four great people

Who then began to plot.

'A school,' they said, 'for magic!

'We'll teach the children young,

'And leave behind a legacy

'Of tales to be sung.'

And so they built this castle,

And began their epic quest

For children who had magic skill

And put them to the test.

For Gryffindor, he chose the youths

Whose hearts were brave and pure.

Those whose minds were sharp and keen

Were Ravenclaw's preferred.

Hufflepuff sought out the ones

Who worked hard at their chores

While those of great ambition

Were who Slytherin adored.

And even now, though they're long gone,

Their students they still choose.

They put some brains inside of me

So I could fill their shoes!

So put me on, don't be afraid,

It won't take very long.

I'll have a look and tell you

The house where you belong!

The Great Hall erupted into applause and laughter, because really, how many hats could sing, much less sing in tune? Most the people in the school were fond of the Sorting Hat, which was how kids were separated into their school houses at Hogwarts.

Then the Sorting began. There were all the old wizarding surnames, and the Muggle-borns, who would add their family names to the ever-growing wizarding society. As each of the first years at on the stool and put the hat on his or her head, the hat would shout out the house.

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

'SLYTHERIN!'

'HUFFLEPUFF!

'GRYFFINDOR!'

'RAVENCLAW!'

The Sorting never took too long, even if there was a large crop of first-years. When the last kid was sorted (some girl with the unfortunate surname of Zonko), Professor Miller stood up to take away the stool and the Sorting Hat. As he disappeared through the door behind the staff table, Professor Ryan stood at the podium looking pleased.

'Yes…well done, well done! Well then, a few start of term announcements. First of all, for our new students…and those old students who can't seem to remember they're not new students…the forest at the edge of the grounds is off limits to ALL students.'

I exchanged knowing looks with my friends…for some odd reason we were always in that group of 'old students' that Professor Ryan mentioned each year. What could I say? The Forbidden Forest was way too tempting.

Professor Ryan continued. 'The list of items forbidden at Hogwarts can be found on the office door of the caretaker, Mr. Hummel. It comprises some six hundred items, in alphabetical order. I suggest all new students take a good look if they think they might have something on that list. And yes, Mr. Hummel has it memorized, in case anyone wondered.'

Professor Ryan looked over to Hummel, who was sitting at the end of the table. Hummel was a weird one, he was. He was a competent enough wizard but seemed to like being caretaker, cleaning the castle and catching rule-breakers. Mr. Hummel waved amiably to the students.

'And so, for now…tuck in!' As the Headmaster spoke, the empty dishes and platters on the tables suddenly filled with food, and the first-years exclaimed in awe.

You never really got tired of Hogwarts feasts…at least I never did. There always seemed to be all my favourite foods, and plenty of it. It was a wonder we didn't all get fat after the first year!

Ke'koa was talking about the Creaothceann team and whether they'd cream Slytherin this year. (Slytherin won the Creaothceann Cup last year.) Creaothceann was a sport that had been banned for several centuries, but was recently re-legalised with several significant modifications. The original sport had involved players with cauldrons strapped to their heads, flying beneath falling boulders, trying to catch them. So many people died in that sport that it was outlawed. I think they brought it back fifty years or so ago, and it's become very popular. Not as popular as Quidditch, but what is?

And, of course, Ke'koa had tried out for it right away. He got into the Gryffindor team last year, when I had only made reserve for Quidditch. Lucky sod! Well this was my year…I fully intended to make the team proper.

Faolan told Ke'koa he was insane, which Ke'koa didn't deny. 'Duelling Club is just as exciting, and not as lethal,' he said. This was a debate they got into every year, so I was used to it by now.

'Quidditch tops them all,' I interjected through a mouthful of chicken.

Ke'koa gave me a look of disgust. 'What a pig!'

I swallowed my mouthful and gave him a wounded look. 'What?'

'You know what – that's just revolting. Why not just save time and vomit it all up onto the table for us to see?'

'Ew!' exclaimed one of the girls nearby, Ke'koa's indignation having caught her attention. It was Kelly Breen, one of the girls in our year. 'Gross…why are you talking about vomiting at supper?'

'Because he's being a prude,' I said with a laugh. Kelly gave me an odd look, probably wondering why a prude would be talking about vomiting. Next to me, Faolan was shaking with silent laughter, and Peter was looking at us as if we were idiots. He was probably right.

'You know,' said Faolan, prodding his shepherd's pie. 'You know what this sort of looks like, don't you?' It greatly amused Faolan to compare the current meal to various odd, often disgusting things, to the dismay of most of the girls…and Ke'koa.

Ke'koa hastily put his hands against his ears, giving Faolan a dirty look. Ke'koa could dive at seventy miles per hour on his broomstick or go into the forest seeking acromantulas, but he had a weak stomach. So when Faolan began talking about what the various parts of our meals looked like, Ke'koa usually protested. 'No, I don't want to know, you prat!'

I started laughing, thinking it was just as well that Ke'koa wasn't listening. Even I was rather disgusted by Faolan's comparison. I was pretty sure Faolan had never seen troll vomit, but it didn't stop him comparing his shepherd's pie to it.

'It's just lucky I have a healthy appetite,' said Peter, looking mildly revolted. He poked Ke'koa in the arm. 'It's safe!' he said loudly.

Ke'koa shook his head in disgust as he ate his dinner, and I noticed he didn't have any shepherd's pie.

Finally, after the puddings had been eaten and cleared away, and people were looking stupid with contentment, Professor Ryan stood up and called for attention. 'Well then!' he called. 'Now that we are well fed, I believe it's time for bed. As always, your Heads of House will be passing out timetables tomorrow at breakfast!'

The Great Hall filled with murmurs and footfalls as people started off towards their common rooms. Ke'koa was explaining about something called 'layzers' to Faolan that he'd learned about in his new Muggle Studies book, and Peter was directing one of the new first years towards the prefect who was leading them out of the Hall. I caught sight of Arcturus heading our way, ducking in between two of his Housemates to join us.

'You just ought to hear the Moor twins,' he snorted as he joined us. 'They reckon they've got all these strange murders solved.'

Ke'koa was distracted from his explanation of 'layzers' by this outrageous claim. 'What? You've got to be kidding. What do they say's the cause?'

'Well they're not about to tell me, are they?' said Arcturus with a laugh. 'When I told them to prove it, they said I'm not worthy to know.'

Peter laughed, looking disgusted. 'Idiots,' he said quietly. 'Of course they won't tell you; they don't know. I suppose their friends all believe them?'

'Of course. But then their friends aren't much brighter than they are. And that's saying something. Still….' Arcturus peered at the crowd of Slytherins heading down into the dungeons with a critical eye. 'They did seem to know…or at least think they know something about it all. I might have to haul out the ol' ear.'

The 'ol' ear' was Arcturus's Extendable Ear. We all had one, they were great for listening in on conversations. 'Let us know what you find out,' said Peter interestedly. 'It'd be kinda scary to find out their parents were involved or something like that.'

It was possible. Everyone knew the Moors had a long history of Dark magic usage, and the twins' mother had even attended Durmstrang, a wizarding school in Germany known for their emphasis on the Dark arts. In fact the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. What if the Moors were involved somehow? I tended to err on the side of belief when it came to things like mysteries and adventures. Peter says I'm naïve, and Arcturus is a little less forgiving and calls me gullible…I suppose they're right, but in this case I could tell my friends were thinking the same way I was.

Besides, I would just LOVE to see those two prats thrown out of Hogwarts for involvement with the Dark arts!

When we got out into the Entrance Hall, Arcturus split off from us again to go downstairs to the dungeons, waving good-bye to us. 'I'll talk to you in a minute!' he called as he disappeared among the other Slytherins.

'As always!' I called back. Arcturus and Ke'koa had two-way mirrors that Peter had attuned to one another so that we could talk to each other when we had to be in our common rooms. Arcturus would seclude himself in the boys' dorms, since the other Slytherins usually stayed out in the common room for a while before turning in, and we'd get out Ke'koa's mirror and we'd be able to talk with him. Ke'koa said he thought there was a way to actually send small items through the mirrors, but he hadn't figured out how to do it yet.

'You did bring them, right?' I asked Ke'koa. 'It, I mean. Your mirror.'

'But of course!' said Ke'koa with a really horrible French accent. 'You beeleef I could forget such a zing?'

Faolan cracked up laughing. 'You sound Russian,' he said. 'Or Trollish. One of the two.'

'Troll! No way do I sound like a troll, you--' Ke'koa took off after Faolan, who broke into a sprint, laughing. They both ignored an irate prefect telling them to slow down, and chased up the stairs. Peter and I exchanged a shrug and trotted after them.

They beat us up there, and by the time we got to the Fat Lady portrait, they were both out of breath, and Faolan looked as if he'd been rather badly noogied. His blond hair was standing up in a corkscrew on top. 'Nice hair,' I said, nodding my head towards the unique style.

Faolan felt the top of his head and made an irritated face as he began smoothing it out. 'Thank your friend, here,' he said, jerking a thumb at Ke'koa.'

'I don't suppose that anyone knows the new password yet?' puffed Peter, leaning against the wall. He was more out of breath than Faolan and Ke'koa, who had run all the way up here at a dead sprint.

'It's Alpha Orionis,' said a voice behind us; it was the prefect Faolan and Ke'koa had annoyed on the way up. The Fat Lady obligingly opened the portrait doorway as the prefect glared at us all. 'I ought to dock you lot some points for acting like a pack of baboons, I swear.'

'You shouldn't swear,' I said seriously. 'You couldn't get in trouble. Besides, it's not against the rules to act like primates, is it?'

Faolan., Peter, and Ke'koa all stifled snickers, and the prefect rolled his eyes in exasperation and brushed past us, through the portrait hole. Ginning, I followed. I suppose we were lucky the prefect didn't make good his threat…we didn't always get away with out childish behaviour so lightly.

We spent some time in the common room catching up with our friends, and the news of the summer, before the four of us disappeared into the third-year dorms. (Peter came with us because he was the only fourth-year, and it would have been silly to meet in his dorm.) I used an Engorgement Charm to enlarge my bed enough that we could all sprawl on it without being cramped, and Ke'koa got out his two-way mirror. He looked into it, grinning at his reflection, and said, 'Arcturus Rowle.'

Arcturus's dark face appeared in the mirror, smirking as usual. 'It's about time!'

'Well you know,' said Ke'koa, 'I wanted to put it off as long as possible.'

The rest of us laughed as Arcturus called Ke'koa a word I wasn't sure I'd ever heard before. That only made me laugh even more. 'So did the Git Twins say anything else about those killings?' I asked.

Arcturus snorted. 'No. They just went right from that to bragging about how they're going to kill Gryffindor in Quidditch.'

'Ha!' I snorted. 'No way! Just because they got on the team last year…their captain's not exactly fair. But I'll get on the team this year, I know it. They've lost both beaters because they graduated—that gives me a good shot, and I've been practicing like crazy.'

'Gideon reckons all he needs is one shot of the Bludger to send you to the hospital wing for the entire term.'

I felt a rush of irritation at that…Gideon was such a miserable idiot. I didn't know egos could get that big and stay intact. 'Yeah, well tell him he can bring it on. I'm surprised he knows what a bludger's for – their captain probably has to give him a demonstration every year.'

Everyone cracked up, Ke'koa rolling around on the bed. 'Yeah,' chimed in Faolan. 'He probably has to make a little diagram…with pictures not words…saying 'This is a Bludger. This is a bat. You hit the Bludger with the bat.' But he couldn't finish his explanation of Gideon-level Quidditch instructions; he was laughing too hard.

Once we'd all managed to calm down, Arcturus told us that he was gonna use his Extendable Ear that night while pretending to sleep…see if the twins talked about anything of interest. After that, we talked mostly about Quidditch and Creaothceann, and who was going to win what. Ke'koa was looking forward to Creaothceann practice…it was his favourite part of school. I like taking risks and all, but catching heavy rocks with my head I draw the line at. He always came back from practice with cuts and bruises and looking like he'd just gotten into a fistfight with a troll…our school nurse hated the Creaothceann players.

As the others talked, I went about decorating my area of the dorms. I put up my Kenmare Kestrels poster, where they took up their accustomed places, demonstrating the Hawkshead Attacking Formation…one of my favourites. I wasn't a Chaser, but sometimes I convinced the captain to let me play Chaser in practice just because they had so many cool moves.

When Arcturus finally said goodnight, Ke'koa put away his mirror and put up some pictures of his own. He of course had a poster of a Creaothceann team…the something-or-other Bashers, I thought they might be. Peter called him weird and headed for his own dormitory. I agreed with him.

By the time the other third-year boys came into the dorms, my bed was the normal size again, and all my stuff was in drawers and on my bed or on the walls. Tired as I always was on the first day at Hogwarts, I was not long in falling asleep.