Penny and Harry happily shared the food from the plate in front of them, each of them choosing one dish or another to add to it in turn before enjoying it. Ron, Hermione, and Neville around them watched on with tolerant amusement as they ate their own food, and one of the older boys further down the table made a comment about them possibly feeding each other that confused Penny and earned the boy a stinging hex from a nearby older girl with a fierce "They're 11!" chiding. Why would they feed each other? It's not like they were small enough they couldn't feed themselves. Like the older girl said, they were 11.
"Well that brings back memories," Sir Nicholas commented as he floated up to the table, smiling indulgently over Harry and Penny. "It's always nice to see such close bonds start young. Why, I remember when I indulged in such interaction at that age." He frowned thoughtfully. "Of course, that was over 400 years ago..."
"Hey, Sir Nicholas!" Penny greeted warmly after swallowing her current mouthful before indicating another dish to Harry to add to the plate that she thought he'd like. "How's the castle been since Mom was here?"
"Oh, not bad, not bad," Sir Nicholas allowed with a warm smile. "No great hurdles, no big disasters, no great secrets revealed..." He chuckled softly. "It doesn't look like anyone will be living in interesting times this decade. Speaking of interesting, though, why aren't you at your House table? I'm sure the Friar would have loved to welcome you."
"Harry needs more hugs," Penny replied without a hint of self-consciousness as she nuzzled into him. "Besides, the Hat said I only had to sit with my House at the start and end of Feasts."
"He did now, did he?" Nick chuckled thoughtfully. "Well, you certainly have an attitude that would fit in with either House. It's a pity the Houses don't do more together..." He then turned to the others. "For those who don't know me already, I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. I am the resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower-"
"I know you!" Ron suddenly called out. "My brother's mentioned you! You're Nearly Hea-ow!"
Penny pulled her hand back from swatting Ron's shoulder. "Don't call him that, it's a sensitive topic for him," she scolded, making Ron lower his head apologetically.
Nick chuckled softly. "It's quite alright, Penny, I'm rather used to it as my unofficial 'nick-name'." He turned to the other students again. "Yes, some of you may have heard from your older Gryffindor relatives that I am also referred to as Nearly Headless Nick. As a result of an...issue when I was being beheaded, my head was not completely severed." He rubbed the side of his neck where a visible scar peaked out from the ruffles around his neck. "This resulted in a great deal of agony over the course of my protracted death...and no small amount of embarrassment and awkwardness since." He sighed softly. "While I won't object too strongly to the appellation, Sir Nicholas or simply Nick would be much preferred."
"I'll keep that in mind," Ron promised apologetically.
Nick smiled. "You're a good lad, as are all your brothers...even the more mischievous ones." With that, he floated around the table to greet others, and everyone focused on getting all the dinner they could handle off their plates and into their stomachs.
Before long, dinner seemed to fade from the table to be replaced with dessert, and everyone took a bit more time with it while talking to each other. Talk turned to families, and each of them described their situation. When Penny explained her family situation, one of the older students took interest. "How come your folks choose to live Muggle?" he asked curiously.
Penny shrugged. "It's a lot easier to live comfortably without dealing with politics as a Muggle than a Magical. At least, that's what Mom says. Dad says he prefers it because as a Magical working as a Muggle archaeologist, he's one of the first to learn when a new tomb has been cleared by the Curse-Breakers for the Muggles to find, so he gets to be on point for a lot of expeditions that make him famous." That got a few chuckles from everyone around, but she quickly turned as she felt Harry flinch, noticing him putting his hand to his scar. "You okay?" she asked worriedly, carefully reaching up to put her own fingers to it.
"I...I'm fine," he offered uncertainly as he rubbed the scar. Seeing her frown, he managed a smile. "I am, really. My scar just...twinged when I looked at Professor Quirrel and whoever he's talking to up there."
"Did it now?" Percy - Ron's older brother, a Prefect - observed as he glanced up. "Well, it is a magically inflicted wound, it could be that either Professor Quirrel or Professor Snape has a magic active that caused a reaction. It's not unheard of." He glanced up at the High Table, then turned back to Harry. "Or it might be something else completely unrelated. Eat anything here you haven't before?"
"Only just about everything," Harry allowed ruefully, leading to Penny nuzzling him again.
"Well that might be it," Percy allowed helpfully. "Maybe you have a magical allergy to something and scar pain is your primary symptom. There's all sorts of possible explanations..." He rubbed his chin in thought. "If this is the only time it happens, I think you can forget about it, but if it happens again go to see Madam Pomfrey immediately. She's the head of the Hospital Wing, and if she doesn't know how to treat your ailments, some other member of the Staff will be able to figure it out. Hogwarts is one of the highest rated Magical Schools in the world for a reason, after all!"
"I'll keep that in mind," Harry agreed with a smile as dessert faded out as well.
"Looks like the Feast is about to end," Percy told Penny. "You should get back to your own House Table for when everyone's guided to their dormitories." Noticing how Penny clung to Harry tighter, he hesitated before continuing, "Gryffindor dorms are in the West Tower. If you have a free period sometime tomorrow when I'm not busy, I'll show you where so you two can visit."
"Thank you!" Penny told him happily, briefly stopping hugging Harry to give Percy a hug before giving Harry one last hug. As Percy froze, plainly completely stupefied, Penny leapt back onto the table and raced back to her previous seat.
"She ate more than any three others with her, how can she still move like that?" an older female student demanded jealously as she landed.
A fourth year sitting nearby chuckled as he leaned over to her. "If you're able to move like that in the air as well on the ground, we could use you as a reserve player," he offered in a warm tone. He held out his hand. "Cedric Diggory, Seeker for Hufflepuff's Quidditch team. Can I count on you coming to try out once you've had your flying lessons?"
"Sure!" Penny offered happily. "But what's Quidditch?"
Cedric opened his mouth to reply, but Dumbledore stood up. "I'll explain later," Cedric promised as Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Just a few more words now that we're all fed and watered," Dumbledore stated calmly. "A few start of term notices to give you." He stroked his beard in a manner not unlike someone rearranging cue cards. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is Forbidden to all pupils...and a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."
As Dumbledore's eyes seemed to linger on the Gryffindor table, Penny let out a sigh of relief. At least she had an excuse to make to herself to not look into why that part of the grounds seemed so...welcoming. Plenty of time to figure out mysteries during the breaks.
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no wanded magic should be used between classes in the corridors," Dumbledore continued. This time his eyes seemed to turn towards the Hufflepuff table, making Penny blink in surprise. She supposed it was on her paperwork that she was a Shifter. "It's assumed," he continued, "that those capable of magic that does not require a wand knows how to be responsible with it, or they wouldn't have made it here.
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term," Dumbledore continued calmly. "Those who wish to play for their House Team should contact Madam Hooch. And finally..." His voice turned somewhat grave, giving his following words a great deal more seriousness. "...I must tell you that this year the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."
Penny felt herself shiver at that pronouncement.
"And now, before we go to bed," he continued in a much happier tone, "let us sing the school song." Waving his wand, he conjured a golden ribbon in the air that began to shape words. "Everyone pick your favorite tune...and off we go!"
Penny grinned as the enthusiasm everyone had for the song infected her. While it was rather cacophonous, she'd learned how to 'not hear' unpleasant sounds as part of her mother teaching her to handle the enhanced sense of hearing her squirrel form came with. Instead, she simply sang the song, choosing to use the tune of the 'packing song' she loved so much. It was the first spell her Great Uncle had taught her, and it didn't even need a wand to cast, and the tune was quite catchy.