The dining hall was crowded with students like it always was; everyone was scrambling to get their food before the day could truly begin. Even though it was a Sunday every boy seemed to be eating as if he were starving or on some kind of deadline. He smiled to himself; he wondered how much effort it took to feed so many young or teenage boys in a single day? It probably cost more than he cared to imagine. As they passed by the tables he saw that the boys at the tables would turn to look at them, then turn back to their friends and whisper among themselves. Even though they tried to keep their voices down he frequently heard the words "storm" and "violet house" mixed into their conversations and their hushed voices could not hide them. Apparently what had happened last night was the talk of the entire school, but why shouldn't it be? It was the closest to a disaster the school had ever come to probably, and he did not mind their curiosity. He just hoped none of them tried to question him directly.

He sat down at the prefects table and had to fight the urge to lay his head down and fall asleep. Instead he leaned back in the chair and pushed his cowl back, forcing himself to look at the bright lights of the dining hall in an effort to stay awake. The others sat down and also scanned the room; none of them were used to being inside while they ate if it was the spring or summer, they only ate here during the winter. They usually had their food brought to them at the gazebo by other students, but today everything was in such disarray that it didn't make sense to eat outside. Not to mention the gazebo was soaking wet from the storm and coated with leaves and other debris. While they had walked here from Violet House the whole campus looked like it would take some time to clean up, even though the gardeners were working overtime and the school had hired more outside help. It seemed the college was going to spend a small fortune making everything right again.

He reached out his hand for the tea pot, pouring himself a generous helping of Earl Grey in the tea cup closest to him. It was still steaming hot when he brought it to his lips but he took a sip anyway. The hot liquid burned his tongue on its way down his throat but he didn't care. The heat felt good and it was waking him up. Gregory set the cup down and looked over the food choices that were prepared for the breakfast meal, as usual there seemed to be too much food but he was unusually famished this morning. There was smoked and honey cured back bacon, pink ham, fried tomato, fried mushrooms, little crisp rolls of bacon, dishes of scrambled and fried eggs, fried bread, sausages, black pudding, hot toast in white napkins, fresh rolls, sweet butter, marmalades of all types and colors, jams, jellies and mounds of fresh fruit. In addition there were also various dishes of porridge and Melton Pork Pie, crepes, stewed figs, pots of coffee and others filled with tea. It was certainly a feast that had been prepared this morning and it would be the same when they took their luncheon and also their evening meal. Gregory himself had always been very thin and usually had a very small appetite when it came to food, but today his stomach growled when he saw breakfast. Perhaps it was all the strain and physical activity that he had endured and the lack of sleep. His body was desperate for energy and it didn't seem to care where he got it from.

He reached for the eggs and sausage and the other meat heavy dishes, earning raised eyebrows from his friends who only ever saw him eat porridge, or perhaps some fruit and bread; and if he was very picky he would only have a cup of tea or coffee. Violet began devouring the sausages and in a few seconds they were completely gone. The eggs followed soon after and he stopped only long enough to pour himself another cup of tea. Herman was watching him wide eyed with a look of amusement on his face. "I have never seen you with such a hearty appetite Gregory!" The Green House prefect laughed good naturedly as the young man also helped himself to more sausage. Violet nodded but felt suddenly self-conscious about his eating, but it didn't stop him from reaching for the crepes next along with the stewed figs. "I think it's fantastic that you have an appetite this morning Violet, you rarely eat anything and many times you don't eat enough to satisfy a bird," said Edgar as he sat in his chair, on leg crossed and a London paper spread out in front of him as he took dainty bites of toast and sips of coffee. "It's not healthy for such a young man to have so little appetite for food." On this Gregory had to agree, even the vain Edgar Redmond easily ate more than twice what he did in a single day. Violet was usually too preoccupied by his artwork to ever realize he was hungry. Even then he wouldn't stop for hours as his stomach begged him to eat.

The crepes and figs were done, and he took a small bowl of porridge with some fruit on top, finally feeling his hunger start to ebb from the food he had consumed. It was helping him feel more awake and he could feel strength returning to him and he felt more alert. He looked at the others feeling a sudden and strong pang of companionship. Edgar was done with his toast and was gingerly eating some strawberry crepes on his own. Herman meanwhile was consuming more than any of them, eating pork and sausage; chasing it with the Melton Pork Pie and the Black pudding, even finding room to add the fried bread and ham. However, he assumed his healthy appetite was all from the amount of physical exercise the Green House prefect did on a daily basis. Meanwhile Lawrence, who was oddly quiet today, had his eyes trained on the book in front of him while he drank some coffee with cream and sugar. His breakfast had consisted of the fried mushrooms and tomatoes, along with toast piled high with orange marmalade, sweet rolls and some nice crisp bacon. It made Gregory's own stomach growl again and after his porridge was done he still managed to eat a few slices of bacon.

Finally satisfied Violet leaned back and scanned the room feeling an odd sense of contentment. There was so much activity in the dining hall today, the sounds of the boys eating and the movements they made as they joked with one another or reached for more food was so colorful. Violet felt his fingers itch to draw something, then with a moment of panic he realized that he had completely forgotten his sketch pad in his room, it was the first time in years he did not have it with him. He started to say something to the others, about needing to leave to go and retrieve his art pad, but then his eyes were drawn to a somewhat overweight woman standing off to the side of the dining hall. Someone standing so still in the hustle and bustle of the room caught his attention; mainly because it stood out against the vibrancy of the hall. It was the head cook, a robust and older woman with her hair in a bonnet. Standing next to her he saw with some surprise was Josie. He suddenly remembered that she had said that the head cook was her Aunt, and the realization made him study the older woman closer. He could not be sure of her hair color as it was covered, but she had the same kind brown eyes that Josie possessed. The woman was a few inches taller than her niece but the resemblance was more than just skin deep. They both radiated a kind of warmth and kindness that was palpable even across the crowded room. They were having some kind of discussion and the older woman gave Josie a small basket covered with a white cloth. Josie shook her head and tried to hand the basket back to her, but the woman refused, and finally Josie took the basket and tucked it under her arm with an air of finality. The older woman smiled and gave her niece a hug before turning around and heading back to the kitchens. Josie waited till she was gone from sight and turned to leave herself, walking out of the dining hall quickly.

Gregory watched her leave then stood up from the table. His sudden movement caught the attention of the others and they looked up at him from their meals. Lawrence finally looked away from his book and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he regarded Violet. "Leaving already? But then you do have the dorm and its repairs to look after don't you?" Bluer asked as he took a sip of coffee. "Yes, of course, also I seem to have forgotten my sketchpad in my room," said the young artist as he pushed his chair back and stood up from the table. "By all means, we completely understand Gregory. You need to make sure everything is in order," said Edgar as he delicately finished his crepes. "We will see each other again for the noon luncheon," the young Redmond said with a dismissive air. Violet nodded at them and placed his hood back over his head as he made his way to out of the crowded dining hall and into the bright morning sun. He walked slowly to the dorm even though he was not particularly fond of the bright sun. The amount of work that awaited him, even if he was not directly involved in the reconstruction of the dorm, was enough to make anyone feel overwhelmed. Gregory sighed and quickened his pace, worrying about it now wasn't going to get him anywhere. He was the head prefect after all, and he also realized suddenly and with a bit of surprise, that he wanted to see Josie too.