POV: NATSUKI

Okay, Natsuki. This is it. Get ready.

I paid hardly any attention to the ongoing ceremony at the front of the Great Hall as Professor McGonagall's clear, firm voice announced the latest name to the surrounding crowd.

"Weasley, Ginny."

Light footsteps followed afterwards as who I presumed to be Ginny stepped forth to seat herself on the ever-esteemed stool.

I counted the seconds of silence that passed before the booming voice of what I knew to be the patchy old Sorting Hat echoed loudly throughout the extravagant room.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

With some difficulty, I managed to tune out the following cacophony of sound as the students by our table exploded into idiotic hooting and applause. I glanced up, not because I was particularly interested in the small girl with bright flaming hair trembling towards us, but to double-check if she really was the last one.

My heart pumped just a bit faster at seeing that the small crowd of first-years indeed had vanished entirely, all Sorted among the four giant longtables filling the hall.

I quickly returned all attention to the blank wooden surface before me, staring without blinking and readying my body to act within a moment's notice.

You can do this. You've prepared for this moment all summer.

My anticipation was briefly interrupted by a jolt of annoyance when I heard the headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore himself, clear his throat.

"Welcome, students!" He announced solemnly.

I'd forgotten all about the speech that followed in the wake of the Sorting.

No, no, don't be fooled! I reminded myself just before going off the deep end and cursing everyone working at the school. Remember last time- his real speech came AFTERWARDS, this is just a bad joke!

Sure enough, there was a clear and obvious flair of light-hearted mischief present within Professor Dumbledore voice when he next spoke.

"Longwinded monologues are crucial to understand rules and stipulations, but only through brevity do we gain true appreciation- especially when we're all too hungry to think clearly. Let's fix that, shall we?"

The crowd applauded. I kept watching the table, not daring to blink.

One moment, the surface of the table remained barren and empty. The next, a wide plate and goblet had appeared before me, followed swiftly by knife and fork. All around me, similar items materialized in front of everyone else.

In the time it took me to snatch the metal utensils into my hands, glorious dishes of elaborately stacked food had popped into existence across the entire table, and a heavenly waft of perfectly cooked meat and veggies spread throughout the room. My stomach churned over itself at the sight.

Here I go!

My hand moved on instinct, shooting forward like an automatic springboard to stab a knife through the largest duck drumstick in my immediate vicinity, and deposited it onto my plate. Wasting no time on celebrations, I quickly moved on to compete against every other reaching Gryffindor to ensure I got the best pickings of each dish.

It wasn't an easy task, by any means. I had to exert the greatest amount of self-restraint I could muster to not just empty a dish on to my plate and start stuffing my face with juicy, tender meat. Only the vague memory of the intense tummy-ache I got last year prevented me from gorging myself right here and now despite the urging growl of my stomach.

This was a strategy game. I had to control myself, and only pick a little bit of everything this time around, all the while keeping in mind to save room for dessert.

Truly, the hardest challenge Hogwarts has to offer.

But even though I followed my self-imposed rules to the letter, soon enough my plate still ended up resembling a sloppy mountain of various meats, sauces and potatoes. Unable to deny my watering mouth any longer, I finally ceased my gathering efforts and dug in while most of the people around me were still in the process of slowly passing around dishes. Like the fucking casuals they were.

The food at Hogwarts was always good, but there was something special about the welcoming Feast that surpassed mere 'good' by quite a margin, and instead slipped directly into 'heavenly' territory. Maybe it had something to do with the two months I'd spent scavenging every single day just to get one measly meal to eat that made it taste so brilliant. Another reason I had to be careful about eating too much at once.

That was probably why the other students were being so blasé about the free banquet. I strongly doubted any of them had had to go hungry to bed a single day during the summer.

Lucky bastards.

But I didn't dwell on it too hard. In fact, by the time I'd raised the first piece of roast beef to my mouth and bit down, the entire Hall seemed to fade away from my awareness until all that remained was me, my seat and the food. My senses were overwhelmed as a combination of mashed potato, peas and meat blessed my tastebuds.

It was all I could do not to moan in pleasure like an idiot and embarrass myself in front of everyone. Was it just me, or had the food turned even more delicious since last year?! How was that even possible?!

The more I ate, the more things seemed to brighten up around me. As I grabbed hold of the enormous drumstick on my plate and started biting large chunks off it, I soon came to the realization that I really didn't have that many reasons to be so angry with anyone. I was back at Hogwarts, Lit Club meetings were gonna start again soon. I was far away from those creepy-ass horse thingies and of course his reach, and I was going to eat like a queen every single morning, afternoon and evening for an entire year.

I smirked to myself as I chewed down the duck, feeling a thin trail of grease trickling down my chin. Maybe this year wouldn't be so miserable after all!

And yet, as mad as it felt to describe this meal as anything less than perfection, there was something missing about it. Gulping down the three mouthfuls I'd just taken, I found that it needed just a little bit of something more to enhance the flavour. Something fluid, but not too watery. Viscous, was the right word.

Gravy. I realized dimly. It needs gravy!

I shook my head, reluctantly allowing the world back into my periphery as I scoured the table for porcelain pourers. I soon managed to locate it close to a bushy-haired brunette about two seats across from me, vaguely picking at her own, far more humble plate.

I swallowed the last bit of duck in my mouth, and cleared my throat.

"OI, GRANGER!" I hollered, appreciating how the girl flinched in alarm. "PASS US THE GRAVY, YEAH?!"

Conquering the initial shock, she turned her head in my direction, glaring me down with a look of thinly veiled disgust when she took notice of my stuffed plate. Amused by this reaction, I deliberately made sure to wipe off my mouth with my sleeve.

"I think you forgot the magic word there." She bit back tersely with an absolute glorious look of cringe.

I paused for about half a second to think up a response. Finding one, I quickly raised my rucksack and opened it.

This should be fun.

"Oh geez, I'm so sorry about that!" I exclaimed with practiced obliviousness, rummaging for my wand. "I mean, I guess I could cast the Summoning Charm, but I don't think we're supposed to learn that one before, like, fourth year or something?

"Are you completely incapable of saying anything without sarcasm, Belby?"

"Please, call me Natsuki!" I responded pleasantly, still fumbling for my wand. "So, like, I'm not exactly sure what'll happen when I try casting it, you should probably steer clear… Say, you know if it's pronounced 'ax-io' or 'acchi-o?´"

"Ugh, forget it!" Granger rolled her eyes with an impatient sigh before grabbing hold of the pourer's hilt and passing it along. "You're unbearable, you know that?"

"Thaaank you!" I drawled proudly, abandoning my wand bluff in favor of accepting the offering. Lifting the pourer over my plate, I turned its bottom, ensuring every single edible item was completely coated in a sticky layer of thick, gooey gravy. I glanced up to see Granger looking on with revolted fascination.

I grinned back at her, finding it hilarious. As if I gave a crap about what some fussy know-it-all thought about my eating habits.

"Hey, so, what's your plan this year?" I quickly added in a hushed voice. "Got anyone in particular on the hit-list?"

She frowned at me, confused.

"What?"

"Y'know, people to paralyze." I shrugged, innocently. "I mean, you nailed Neville Longbottom last year, so I'm assuming you'll be going after even more people this term. I just want to make sure I don't get tangled up in your crosshairs!"

Her expression quickly turned from vague annoyance to absolute horror. I savored the way her eyes shifted back and forth for any listeners. Now that I'd recovered a bit from the trip here, it was time to do what I did best- getting on people's nerves.

"Oh relax, Granger!" I eventually decided to take pity on her. "It's not like what you did is a secret, whole school already knows! They just don't care since you happened to win the House Cup in the process!"

Her face turned red with silent indignation, lips tightening to a thin line. I cackled softly. This was too easy.

"But back to your game plan this year." I went on. "You know me, of course I won't snitch when people start getting randomly attacked around the place. But I'd still love to know who you've got in mind. Do you take requests?"

Hermione Granger twisted her head back to her plate, resolutely ignoring me. Probably the best decision she'd made all evening.

Since she wasn't rising to the bait, and I was running low on jabs anyway, I let her be. Kind of boring, but eh. Whatever.

But just as I was about to commence my feeding frenzy again, I noticed something… off, about her. It took me a bit to put my finger on exactly what it was- her appearance was pretty much identical to last year. Same brown, bushy hair, same protruding front teeth, same fussy attitude. The only noticeable change being that she'd gotten a bit (infuriatingly) taller.

Then, it dawned on me. It wasn't anything about her that seemed weird, but the utter lack of the usual people sitting with her. Like me, she was… alone.

I scoured the lengths of the Gryffindor table, searching for any dark-haired nerds with stupid haircuts and freaky lightning bolt scars in their foreheads. Despite my best efforts, I found no one fitting the description.

I raised my drumstick again and took another bite of the now gravy-enhanced meat while pondering the matter. While I didn't really give a damn where Mr. Celebrity had gone for the night, it did give me an idea for an extra button to push. I couldn't just let such an opportunity pass.

I turned back to the Granger girl.

"Shooo…" I muttered casually through the mouthful of duck I hadn't bothered to fully swallow. "…how cohm your boyfriend isnht here?"

"…pardon?"

She glanced up at me with another annoyed scowl, checking if I was talking to her.

"Y'know, shkinny guy." I clarified with a shrug, and swallowed. "Messy hair, the 'Boy Who Lived,' youngest Seeker of the century, the one you snuck out with last year after assaulting Longbottom? I'm surprised you don't remember him, he's kinda a big deal."

"What are you even talking about?!" Granger demanded impatiently as her cheeks flushed red with anger and, unless I was very much mistaken, a degree of worry. "Harry's not my boyfriend!"

"Huh, breakup that bad?" I asked, taking nonchalant a sip of pumpkin juice from my goblet.

"He's never been my boyfriend?!"

"Say whaaat?" I smirked back, proud of myself. It'd been far too long since the last time I'd gotten on someone's case. It was nice to see I hadn't lost my touch during the summer. "Surely you didn't go for the Weasley instead? I mean, I'm sure he has his charms somewhere, buried deep, deep down, but to pick him over the famous Harry Potter?"

"Did you say Harry Potter?!"

A high-pitched squeak of a voice had suddenly erupted from behind me, alerting me to someone's presence. I turned around in my seat to take in the sneaking intruder when-

FLASH!

"Garh! What the-?!"

I let out a surprised yell as searing light consumed my vision, lingering in the air before me like a stubborn miniature sun. I tried blinking rapidly and rubbed at my eyes, but to no avail- the burning whiteness remained strong as ever, blinding me to the Hall at large.

"Whoops, sorry! Need to adjust the flash, people say it's too strong!" The shrill voice spoke again, still firmly locked in perpetual excitement. "But I heard you talking about Harry Potter! Do you know him?! Do you know where he is?! I've been dying to meet him ever since I got my Hogwarts letter! I'm hoping to get a signed picture from him, d'you think he'll do that for me?!"

"What…?" I shook my head, overwhelmed by the avalanche of questions relentlessly hurled at me. Finally, the void of white began fading away just enough for me to catch a brief glimpse of a boy even shorter than me, sporting an ear to ear grin and a large camera obscuring the upper half of his face before-

FLASH!

I cursed loudly as the boy clicked his camera and caused another spark of bright light to explode from the cone-shaped bulb he held separately, blinding me again.

"The hell is wrong with…?!" I exclaimed, furiously clawing at the air in a futile attempt to find and grab this optical abuser by the neck. "Who are you?!"

"I'm Colin! Colin Creevey!" The boy responded at the same cheery break-neck speed, seemingly oblivious to any wrongdoing. "I just got sorted into Gryffindor, I've heard that's Harry Potter's house but I can't find him anywhere! What's your name?! How come you have pink hair?! What's with the hairclip?! Are you Harry Potter's girlfriend?! Do you wanna be my friend?!"

More clicking from his camera accompanied his incessant questions, approaching my right side. Still unable to see anything but white, I tried lunging my arm out and felt my fingers hit something metallic- and cried out in shock at the shivering sensation of cold liquid splashing down my front, soaking my robes. If I had to make an educated guess, I'd say I'd just managed to tip over my goblet of pumpkin juice.

And still, the rapid clicking went on.

"Stop it! Stop taking pictures of me!" I howled, desperately feeling around for the rucksack containing my wand. First, I'd dry myself, wait for my vision to clear again and then make this twerp eat that fucking camera raw!

"But I promised me dad I'd take all the pictures I could of this place!" Colin rejected my command, still entirely unperturbed. "He's a muggle see, and he really wants to know what the Wizarding World is like!"

"Aww Natsuki," Came an amused, derisive voice from across the table that made me instantly regret allowing her to use my first name.

Hoping to avoid the risk of yet another camera flash to the face, I turned around and was just barely able to make out Hermione Granger's sly smirk. "Have you made a new friend? Or is he already your boyfriend?"

"Don't hurt yourself, Granger." I sneered back, trying to squint away the lingering spots of light floating around my periphery. "Leave the comedy to the people with a sense of humor, yeah?!"

"Oh, I don't know about that." She retorted smugly. "From where I'm sitting, this looks pretty darn funny!"

"Ooh, your name is Natsuki?!" The menace known as Colin gasped eagerly, actually taking a seat right next to me. "That sounds foreign, are you foreign?! Is that why your hair's pink?! Can I call you Suki for short?!"

"Absolutely not!" I whipped around snarling, fully intending to lock my hands around his rodent-like throat and finally shut him up for good-

FLASH!

"Wow, you looked really great there, Suki!"

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" I screamed in pain as my retinas got burned for the third time in a row.

POV: YURI

"…hear what Travis said about Potter?"

"Travis is such a liar, there's no way he actually used a flying car…"

"But The Prophet said-"

"C'mon Terry, don't be daft! Do you really believe everything you read in the paper?"

"Uhm, e- excuse me-" I attempted, only to have my voice drowned out by more of the idle chatter surrounding our table.

"…have a real bad feeling about those Slytherins. I think they've got something up their sleeve this year!"

"Cho!"

"Did you see Flint's smile when he saw Wood? He looked like a kid on Christmas! I'd bet a hundred Galleons they've got some kind of secret Quidditch plan!"

"Who cares about Quidditch, Cho, tell me-"

"What do you reckon it is? It has to be something really big to make him think they've got a chance after Gryffindor demolished them last year-"

"Cho, Cho look at me! Did you, or did you not spend the summer with Cedric Diggory?!"

"…what? What's that got to do with anything-"

"Oh my gosh, you totally did! I need to tell Padma-"

"No! M- Marietta, wait, it- it wasn't like that-"

"C- could someone p- please pass the pota-" I tried again meekly when a girlish shriek of hysterical giggles erupted from the girls sitting just a bit further down from me. With a frustrated sigh that nobody heard, I lowered my head in defeat.

It seemed like every time I'd gather enough courage to ask for someone to pass me one of the many dishes strewn about the Ravenclaw table (all of them conveniently out of my reach), someone was at the ready to share some new, loud exclamation of gossip, rumors or activities they'd done during the summer. At this point it almost seemed like a deliberate, cooperative ploy to tune me out.

No, that's ridiculous. I grimaced at the idea. As if anyone would go through all that effort just to bother someone they probably didn't even knew existed.

This was so stupid. With such an abundance of delicious food at our disposal, there really shouldn't be any excuses for someone to go hungry to bed. And yet, my anxiety seemed to have vastly differing opinions on the matter.

As soon as I'd tell myself to just raise my voice and make myself be heard above the chatter, a kind of suffocating presence would be quick to follow, pointing out how rude it'd be to disrupt their conversation, call attention to my stutter and make me look like a fool in front of everyone. When I'd tell myself to just get up and procure the potato dish, it'd dissuade me by saying how much standing up would make me stand out. And I could go on- with every proposal I came up with to overcome my issue, there would be a thousand more counter-arguments at the ready detailing how it wouldn't work, go wrong or end in some sort of disaster.

I knew this wasn't logical. Of course I knew. It was irrational. Childish. Blowing everything out of proportion. This was the welcoming Feast, why would anyone here think twice about some girl like me asking for a dish? They probably all thought it was even weirder that I wasn't eating anything! I should quit stalling, stop fretting about unrealistic scenarios and solve this non-issue already!

I opened my mouth- and quickly closed it again once it became clear no sound was going to emerge in the foreseeable future.

The suffocating presence was increasing its hold on me, further injecting my body with its paralyzing venom. Despite knowing exactly how absurd I was being, I remained powerless to do anything about it.

Powerless. Disabled. Weak. Coward.

I closed my eyes in quiet resignation. Oh well. Wasn't like I really needed to eat dinner, anyway. I could easily wait until tomorrow where hopefully I'd have better luc-

"Yuri!" A chipper voice exclaimed from my side, surprising me right out of my stupor. "Hey, good to see you again!"

Heart lodged in my throat, I turned automatically to see an older girl with long, blonde and curvy hair looking down at me. She was carrying a plate of assorted half-eaten food items in her arms, just below a blue badge attached at her chest embroidered with a bright, shiny and authority-giving "P."

I recognized her immediately, having just spent a good portion of the train ride in her company. Penelope Clearwater was probably the closest thing I had to a 'friend' in my own House- which only meant I'd shared a little more than a few fleeting sentences with her during last year. If she hadn't just initiated, I wasn't even sure if I considered us close enough to a first name basis.

What's she doing?! What does she want?! Did I do something wrong?! Is she going to out me?!

I must have looked about as frightened as I felt, judging from the gentle, reassuring and mildly overbearing smile she flashed me.

"Don't worry, it's just me." She winked and seated herself at a vacant spot on the long bench next to me. Her tone was mostly casual, although I thought I could detect a layer of concern hidden beneath it. "Hope you don't mind, thought it might be nice to have some company?"

I very much did mind. Having dinner with this many people present was already anxiety-inducing enough, but to have someone join this spontaneously and expect to engage in some kind of dialogue? I just wanted to be left alone and 'eat' (metaphorically speaking, of course) in peace!

"N- no, of c- course not..." My mouth muttered back automatically, as I felt it contort into an insincere smile.

At that, Penelope's own smile seemed to drop slightly, and she leaned a bit closer to me.

"I saw you were having trouble breaking through all the noise." She lowered her voice confidentially. "Thought you might like some help?"

My eyes widened in alarm and embarrassment. She'd noticed my stupid dilemma. If she'd noticed, that probably meant she wasn't the only one. How many other Ravenclaws were laughing at me right now? It would have to be really obvious when a Prefect had decided to step forth to talk down to me!

"N- no, you don't have t- to do that…" I managed a faint reply, avoiding looking her in the eyes. "I'm j- just being… silly…"

"Yuri, it's completely understandable!" She chuckled kindly. "All these blokes are chatting up a storm! I think we had a much higher rate of new Ravenclaws this Sorting than usual, so there's no shame in feeling a bit lost in the crowd. Honestly, even I'm a bit overwhelmed!"

I didn't believe her. She was just lying in an attempt to relate to me and make the weird, overly sensitive problem girl in her House feel less like a complete outcast. I supposed it could be seen as a kind, noble gesture on the surface level- but that still didn't make it feel any less belittling. I couldn't imagine anyone else here would need Prefect assistance with something as stupid as this.

"Come on…" She gently pushed on. "I noticed you missed way too many meals last year. We wouldn't want your parents sending complaints to Hogwarts when they see how thin you're getting, would we?"

I suppressed a resigned sigh. That was definitely something they might actually do. As humiliating as it was to ask Penelope for help, the proposed alternative was much, much worse.

I nodded, slowly.

"All right!" Penelope exclaimed triumphantly. "What can I get ya? Lamb chops? Sausage? Shepherd's Pie?"

"U- uhm…" I hesitated, feeling the familiar warmth spreading across my cheeks again. "I- I'm a vegetarian, actually…"

"Oh, gotcha!" Penelope nodded back. "Hey, good for you! Suppose you'll want the potatoes then?"

I nodded again, almost ashamedly.

"OI, YOU!" I flinched again when Penelope's sudden outcry erupted, her voice as sharp and brutal as the crack of a whip. "PASS THE 'TATERS!"

Internally, I heavily debated putting my hood up to hide the embarrassment as the selected dish got passed from hand to hand like a connected chain until finally arriving before me. It got especially hard to resist this temptation when Penelope started barking out similar demands for peas, carrots and corn on the cob.

After a borderline fortress of bountiful vegetable-dishes had been assembled around me, I hurriedly began stacking spoonfuls onto my plate with shaking hands. After all that trouble at my expense, I was hardly going to refuse it.

Even so, it was difficult not to harbor feelings of resentment towards Penelope for coddling me like this. I wasn't even sure why. She'd been nothing but nice, and no matter which way you looked at it, her help had undeniably been a good deed. Getting annoyed at her made no logical sense.

"Tha- thank you." I opted for a quiet murmur of gratitude as I picked up a knife to slice the potatoes into more manageable sizes. I definitely wasn't going to lash out and air any of my own, barely understood grievances at her.

"Don't mention it!" She said, giving me a hearty clap on the shoulder. "So, how was your holiday? Did you travel anywhere?"

Oh no. I thought despairingly, my knife freezing up half-way through a potato. Not this, mercy please! Anything but casual small-talk!

I was saved the fate of having to respond when a vague, but insistent voice spoke up close by.

"I'd be careful with those potatoes, if I was you…"

I glanced up in mild alarm to see a girl directly across me, one of the new first years judging by her size. She had long, wavy dirty-blonde hair and bore a peculiar expression with her very large, protuberant blue eyes that seemed to be looking directly through me.

Uncomfortable with her unblinking stare, I adjusted in my seat.

"Uh, m- me?" I hesitantly asked and gestured at myself for clarification, my uncertainty legitimate. The girl's voice had been so airy and dream-like, it could've easily been mistaken for a stray thought she'd voiced aloud on accident if not for the "potato" buzzword.

"Yes…" She confirmed in an equally ethereal tone. "Studies have shown a noticeable uprising of dread-drip poison in normal, everyday potatoes. Strangely enough, only very few people have been talking about it…"

"W- what…?" I asked timidly and furrowed my brows, wholly unsure what to make of such an absurd statement.

The girl nodded solemnly, and leaned closer across the table. I noticed what looked to be her wand nesting behind her ear.

"It's a secret ploy by Cornelius Fudge himself to spread paranoia among us…" She breathed in a hushed voice. "Hundreds of potato-consuming witches and wizards are affected every single day!"

I examined her intense expression, trying to find some kind of tell. A wink, a curl of the lip, anything that might reveal the joke she had to be pulling on me. To my surprise however, she seemed one hundred percent serious in her conviction.

"Uh- b- but why would the Minister of M- Magic want to p- poison us like that…?"

The girl's already wide eyes opened even further as she shifted them to each side. She then leaned closer, practically laying on her stomach over the table now.

"Why, to make us turn a blind eye to his goblin-killing, of course!"

Suddenly grateful for Penelope's presence, I quickly turned to her for help. Thankfully, she already had an expression of mild amusement at our back-and-forth which helped confirm the preceding conversation hadn't just been a fever dream-fueled hallucination.

"You just got Sorted here, didn't you?" She asked politely, receiving a nod in response. "Would you mind repeating your name?"

"I'm Luna." The girl replied, her voice reverting to its 'normal' dream-like tone, which was the exact same as the one from before, just with a bit less intensity. "Luna Lovegood."

"Nice to meet you, Luna." Penelope smiled back. "I'm Penelope. Say, can I ask if you have a source for these claims?"

"Yes, of course I do!" Luna nodded eagerly, reaching down to fish out a thin magazine from her rucksack. With a proud look, she held up the front page before us.

I blinked as I read the headline, my heart sinking more and more with each word.

THE QUIBBLER

"EXPOSED: MACABRE MINISTRY MUTINY MUTILATING MURPHIES!"
In this groundbreaking, exclusive issue, we interview anonymous eye-witnesses to hear their shocking testimonies to what REALLY goes on behind the closed barn-doors of Britain's farms! If you've ever consumed a potato only to feel an increased sense of panic afterwards, you DON'T want to miss this- we'll be taking you through all the undeniable evidence to answer HOW, WHY and WHEN it started happening- as well as showing WHAT you can do to prevent dread-drip poisoning! This, and much more, on page 4!

Accompanying the headline was a cartoonish drawing that looked like something ripped directly from Sayori's notebook, showcasing a bottle with a skull and two crossed bones tipping some kind of blue liquid onto a handful of huge, blotchy potatoes.

Rendered speechless by what I'd just read, I turned again to Penelope for assistance. I found her in the process of biting her own lip, struggling desperately to not laugh out loud.

"My dad has been working on this story for months." Luna said with a perfectly straight face. "It's his biggest Scoop of the year! The Ministry even contacted us and made him put a theory disclaimer in the issue- that means they're worried about it!"

"But that's complete nonsen-" I was about to blurt out when Penelope hurriedly interjected, speaking over me.

"SO, I take it your dad runs The Quibbler then?" She asked with practiced curiosity.

"Yes…" Luna said, vaguely squinting her enormous eyes at me, as if not entirely certain if she should be offended or not. "He's always breaking the most important stories to the public, but even though our paper is much more relevant and helpful, we don't get nearly as many readers as The Prophet. It's really unfortunate, but most people would much rather stay blind to the actual truth…"

"Well, Yuri and I definitely appreciate the warning!" Penelope chuckled kindly, making me cringe inwardly. I hated when people spoke for me. "That being said, though- surely the infection hasn't spread to every potato in the country, right?"

"No…" Luna relented with a shrug. "They don't have the budget for that. My dad puts it best in the actual article: 'not every potato, but any potato.' There is a simple way to check, though…"

She reached up to her ear, and grabbed her wand. Without further warning, she pointed it at my plate, and made a confident flicking motion.

"Dreadio Revelio!"

Nothing happened.

"Hmm…" She mused thoughtfully, depositing the wand back up behind her ear. "Okay, those should be safe enough... If they'd had the poison, they would have turned turquoise. But I'd still chew slowly and be wary of any unfounded aggressive feelings towards goblins when you eat."

Then, without further comment on the matter, Luna returned her attention to her plate of Haggis as if the preceding happenings had never taken place.

I blinked, dumbfounded. I still couldn't determine what exactly had just transpired, everything said from the moment this 'Luna Lovegood' had introduced herself felt like, to coin a term frequently used by Natsuki, a very elaborate fever dream of utter nonsense.

Is she even real…? I watched with sceptical fascination as the blonde girl quietly ate her dinner, seemingly oblivious to the world at large. I had immense difficulty believing someone could actually have a perception of reality this flawed.

Penelope brought me back to earth by placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Just go with it…" She whispered with a carefree shrug, and gestured to my plate. Suppressing a sigh, I obeyed her and recommenced cutting my meal into chunks, hoping I was finally free from any further interruptions.

"You okay?" But of course, Penelope had to dash my hopes by continuing her interrogation of my wellbeing.

"I'm fine." I nodded decisively, doing my best to conceal a blush of irritation and shame. I wasn't sure whether she was doing it intentionally or not, but I really wished she would stop sounding so condescending towards me. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." She replied warmly, going so far as to pat my back in an embarrassing display of pity. "And hey- if you ever find yourself in trouble, or an uncomfortable situation of any kind, please don't hesitate to find me. I promise I'll drop everything and help you out, okay?"

I felt sick to my stomach as I glanced sideways and saw the look of genuine empathy on her face. My blush doubled in intensity. She actually believed I was that delicate.

"O- okay." I croaked out meekly, squirming in my seat at the new low I'd reached. Was this really how pitiable I came across to everyone else? How could anyone even stand to be around me?

I made a silent, determined vow to myself to never, as long as I continued to breathe, take Penelope up on her offer. No matter what happened to me, there was no possible situation in my mind where doing something that pathetic could ever be justified.

I'd sooner die than take advantage of someone's kindness like that.

"This is good." Luna suddenly spoke aloud again, gesturing to her plate. It was impossible to tell if she was addressing me, Penelope, or indeed anyone in particular. "But I do hope there's pudding afterwards…"