Chapter 30: Dinner and Minor Drama

Since there was only one student after him and—more importantly—that student didn't end up sitting under the hat for nearly six minutes like a certain skeleton had, the whole ceremony thing wrapped up in short order. With the final name called and sorted, Professor McGonagall carried off the hat and stool.

At the head table, a wizard with a long white beard stood up and gestured for the students to quiet down. All attention turned his way.

Recognizing him from descriptions he had been given—plus having personally seen him at a distance during their escape from Hogwarts—Sans figured he must be the famous (infamous) Headmaster Dumbledore.

"I only have two words to say to you," the old wizard said, voice magically loud enough to be heard throughout the entire Hall. "Tuck in."

Sans snorted, undeniably amused by the unexpected humor. To be honest, he hadn't been holding out too much hope for the headmaster's character, given what he had been told about the circumstances behind Sirius's twelve years of incarceration. Still, someone who sincerely likes bad jokes has a sort of integrity; perhaps he should give Dumbledore a bit more breathing room before judging him.

The plates filled with foods, everything from roast beef and sausages to carrots and salad. There was even a tray of hard candies, for some reason. There was a small flutter of magic by his feet, and when Sans glanced down he saw that a bowl filled with dog food had appeared.

Sirius, to his credit, did not turn his animagused nose up at the non-human chow.

Still, though. It felt weird sitting among piles of delicious food while his friend was left with what was essentially scraps. Nobody noticed that the food Sans set on his own plate simply vanished, and certainly nobody noticed how that food seemed to just appear on the ground in front of a conveniently hungry dog. He did eat one or two spoonfuls of the mash potatoes, though.

It was a good few minutes into the meal before conversation resumed.

"Your name doesn't make much sense, I think," said Luna, head turned contemplatively. She gestured vaguely in the air with her fork, either not noticing or (more likely) not caring how it shed lettuce leaves as she waved. "Given you do have a skeleton."

Sans nodded. "well, if it clears anything up, my middle name is 'ian'."

She blinked at that, then her expression became thoughtful as she tried to puzzle out how that new information changed what she already knew.

He had been planning on a pun for his name since he first learned he would need a last name, and coming up with one he considered suitable was easier said than done. His first choice was, naturally, something along the lines of 'Skinner': taking direct advantage of his first name to pun about his skeleton-ness. The problem being, of course, that nobody would be able to appreciate the joke. And that then he would have to be called 'Mr. Skinner' by his professors.

So that plan was bust.

"ya know, sans ian skelton," he added, as if that helped.

Luna tapped her finger thoughtfully on one of the tomatoes in her salad. Her eyes brightened when an idea struck, and, smiling almost serenely, she asked, "How is your last name spelled?"

"precisely," Sans answered.

She looked pleased.

Before further discussion or confirmation of his one-step-removed name pun could continue, however, the plates full of dinner food were magically cleared away and replaced by assorted desserts. Spooning herself what could be technically termed as 'just one bowl' of pudding—the pile wobbled a bit precariously taller than the height of the dish—Luna then began preparing another.

"woah." Sans raised an eyebrow at the second bowl, somewhere between impressed and concerned. "you sure you should be pudding that much?"

She quirked her head to the side, then glanced between the dessert and him. "This one is yours," she said, as if that should be obvious.

Sans blinked. Sirius, sitting on the floor, flopped his head down on the seat with a upward glance at his friend. His doggy expression was clear: eat the food, or else.

So, of course, Sans took the offered bowl.

He had never been one for sweet foods, though, and wasn't sure what to do with the sugary pudding. Nice Creams are all well and good, but he would take ketchup—or even amazingly well-cooked spaghetti—over popsicles any day.

"You ate the potatoes." Luna sounded thoughtful. She cocked her head to the side, watching with apparent interest as he poked at the dessert.

"goes great with ketchup. doesn't work so well with pudding." Adopting a thousand-yard stare, he concluded, "a man's gotta draw the line somewhere."

Sans scooped up a spoonful and swallowed, and Luna looked positively intrigued. In as much as her airy demeanor seemed to allow, anyway. "How does it work?"

Answering with regards to potatoes, he said, "photosynthesis, partly."

"But skeletons aren't plants?"

The people sitting around them were clearly tuning out their entire conversation, or were at least used to Luna spouting nonsensical statements. Well, mostly; there was a group of girls sitting on the other side of the table who snickered amongst themselves in a distinctly mean way.

Sans frowned to himself, though his smile remained fixed in place. Hearing that disdainful edge to the laughs, Sirius's ears pulled forward angrily.

Still, he decided it would be best to ignore them for now.

Besides, he had a question of his own; brows raised in surprise, he asked, "you know what that is? i was under the impression wizards tree-ted science like dirt."

She smiled, and, with what seemed to be nothing more than a distracted whimsical comment, didn't let him steer the conversation away: "You're not green."

He shrugged, took one last bite of pudding, and set aside the bowl. "well then, luna my friend, since you're so set on asking how i function, the answer is simple."

Her eyes sparkled like light on water. "Magic?"

With a nod, arching his hands over his head and giving his fingers a wiggle for emphasis, Sans said expansively, "magic."

She nodded, sagely. "Of course."

Then what little remained of the dessert vanished from the plates, followed closely by the plates themselves disappearing—a swirl of magic very much like his shortcuts whisking away the dirty dishes. Sans blinked, a little startled. Sliding a hand across the table where his bowl had been, he curiously prodded the afterimage of the spell. It was similar to his own in color, though with a bit more green.

He was pulled from his musing by a gentle tap, and Luna directed his attention back up toward the head table. The headmaster was rattling off a list of basic school rules, what cool things were prohibited in the halls (and in the school at large), and a mandatory safety warning regarding the forest. Having been in the forest previously, Sans wasn't really sure what could be so dangerous… well, other than maybe those flying cloak-demon things. But he had already taken care of that.

And then, just as Sans had stopped paying attention again, it seemed like the entire student body began freaking out. Quietly freaking out, but freaking out nonetheless: mostly whispered shock and speechless glances, and it was enough to drag him back.

"what'd i miss?" he asked, leaning over so Luna could hear him over the appalled murmuring. "i wasn't paying attention."

"Apparently Quidditch is canceled this year."

She actually sounded vaguely bothered by that, which Sans wouldn't have expected: Luna just didn't really strike him as a sporty person.

"oh no," he said, in a perfectly distraught deadpan. "not sport ball, i love that game."

"Shush," Luna chided.

Then a bang from the doors of the Great Hall opening cut the headmaster off mid-sentence.

A flash of lightning danced across the enchanted ceiling, the rolling rumble of thunder filling the air. Framed in the doorway was a hooded figure, cane in one hand and peg leg sticking out from the bottom of the dark traveling cloak. It was a real top-tier dramatic entrance, definitely full points there. Bonus for the quality mysterious vibes.

Sans could respect a good introduction, to be sure.

From under the seat, Sirius bristled. And growled, low and quiet and angry.

"ah, so this is the guy?" He flicked through his memories, trying to find more info from their various debriefing sessions. The guy in question had just pushed back his hood: scraggly dark gray hair, a face covered in scars, and one blue eye swiveling wildly in its artificial socket.

Sirius nodded, stiff and still looking very much like he wanted to tear into the peg-legged man's remaining good leg.

Voice quiet, pitched specifically for dog ears only, Sans said, "what was his name… sad-pie gloomy?"

The golden retriever whipped his head around to stare at his friend, expression torn between wanting to laugh like an idiot and demanding he take things more seriously.

Well, in that case: "wait, was it pissed-peeper pessimist?" He consulted his mental thesaurus. "or maybe angry-optic? yeah, i'm thinking it mighta been angry-optic mopey."

Sirius rolled his eyes, and huffed. He did look amused, though.

"wait, it's 'mad' as in 'crazy'?" Sans translated. "…so you're saying he's wacky-optic mopey."

Luna leaned over, glancing between dog and skeleton curiously. "Mad-Eye?"

"yes, of course!" He snapped his fingers with a boney click, as if he'd only just remembered. "it's mad-eye mopey."

Looking for all the world as if he expected—or maybe wanted—the ceiling to fall on them both, Sirius exhaled forcefully and gave his friend a sharp look.

"i'm not underestimating anybody," Sans defended. "i'm just making fun of him."

The cloaked figure made his way to the high table, one asymmetric thump of a step at a time. He reached Dumbledore and held out a scarred hand, which the headmaster took with a welcoming smile. There was a whispered exchange—over before Sans could even consider eavesdropping—then Mad-Eye took his seat to the headmaster's right.

A twist of magic had a few new plates of food appearing in front of him, which he regarded with suspicion. He pulled one over that was loaded down with sausages, gave them a paranoid sniff, apparently found them safe, and began to eat. That crazy blue eye was still spinning about, as if trying to track an insane mosquito at close range.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore was as chipper as ever, even faced with the confused-shocked silence pervading the Great Hall. "Professor Moody."

Sans leaned down to the golden retriever still glaring daggers at the scarred man. "ah, so it's moody. well, at least i was close."

The dog broke off his glare, sneezed quietly, then settled back down to the floor.

A couple of the professors tried to applaud, welcoming, but stopped fairly swiftly as it didn't catch on. It would seem the entire student body was too generally confounded by the past two announcements to do anything but stare.

The crazy-not-angry-magical-blue-eye of the new staff member continued its wild swirly regard of the entire room, but the rest of him didn't seem to care about the splash he'd made as he continued his meal in an undisturbed hurry. He pulled a flask out from his jacket, took a swig, and then tucked it back away.

Feeling the incredibly faint current of magic that followed—so small that he would have missed it if he hadn't been focused on the target—Sans knew what had just happened.

"looks like we've got an alcoholic," he remarked, purposefully nonchalant.

Sirius's ears twitched, acknowledging the code with a quiet angry bark. They hadn't been completely sure when the switch between real and Polyjuiced-fake had taken place in the original timeline, but this time around, at least, the imposter was already running the show.

Dumbledore coughed into a fist, clearing his throat, and decided to swiftly move along before the silence suffocated anyone.

"As I was saying," he said, trying to gather attention again, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months."

That statement at least got some people to refocus off of the new professor.

"was that what he was saying?"

Luna shrugged, not interested in the announcements anymore. Instead she reached into her pocket, pulled out a pair of flamboyantly colored spectacles, put them on, and turned her gaze to the Head Table. She hummed to herself, thoughtfully.

The paper glasses had a large, flared-out frame made of something shimmery and pink, and it made her look sort of like Snowdrake, if somebody had dropped him into a massive bowl of glitter.

"what're those?"

She tilted her head to the side, as if his inquiry required a great deal of consideration. Then, with a dreamy smile, Luna took the glasses off and tried to put them on Sans. Being a skeleton with no ears or nose beyond the immaterial ones on his glamour, the paper specs slipped right off and landed in his lap.

He blinked down at them, then back at her. "that does not answer my question."

Luna was unbothered. "A project I'm working on," she said, "to help people see."

Picking them up, Sans skeptically regarded the almost-solid-color lenses attached in the paper frame before curiously holding them up to his eye sockets. Specks like motes of dust twinkled into existence, appearing one moment then vanishing, as if the glasses were struggling with a bad connection.

"huh."

"You're JOKING!" exclaimed somebody from the table in red, presumably in response to whatever announcement Dumbledore had just made. The outburst startled laughs from everyone, the tension from Mad-Eye Moody's imposing arrival shattering into giggles.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley." His voice remained even, but there was a chuckle in his grin. "Although I did hear a rather good one recently about a werewolf and a dog visiting a bar…"

Sans blinked, seeing that sly smile for what it was. The headmaster never looked his way, but he could very well recognize the knowing glint behind half-moon spectacles. From the measure of the headmaster's body language, he knew that Remus and Sirius were in cahoots about something—but Sans would bet two bottles of ketchup that the headmaster didn't know nearly as much as he thought he did.

For one point, if Dumbledore knew about the skeleton thing he probably would have included that in his cheeky remark.

A werewolf, a dog, and a skeleton visit a bar, Sans thought to himself with a sad smile. Sounds like the usual for Grillby's, no big deal.

Dumbledore was pulled back on track by Professor McGonagall, who loudly cleared her throat.

"Where was I? Ah, yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

Which Sans was glad to do. He did, after all, know quite a bit about the tournament to come. Or at the very least, his doggy friend did.

So, while the rest of the school was briefed on what the upcoming year had in store, he zoned out and toyed with the idea of falling asleep right there at the table. He was, in a word, bored. Luna had taken back her odd glasses, so he didn't even have those to fiddle around with.

"—and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected," said Dumbledore, wrapping up his speech. "And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

This was the cue for all the students to noisily get up and make their way to the doors. The first years, Sans included, were swept up in the flow of bodies exiting and simply doing their level best to stick with people wearing the right colors.

As the student body split up—Slytherins and Hufflepuffs heading down, and both Gryffindors and Ravenclaws faced with a lot of stairs—the individual houses split up quite a bit as well. Upperclassmen had learned faster ways to navigate the castle, but the newbies to the school had to stick with the prefects and trust they knew what they were doing.

When there were only kids in blue in the crowd, one of the prefects stepped up to the front of the group. His brown hair was combed tidily to one side, his uniform was clean and orderly, blue tie tight, and overall he had a look almost perfectly opposite to Luna. He smiled, friendly and welcoming.

"Right then," he said, making sure he had everyone's attention. "Welcome to Hogwarts! My name's Marcus Turner, I'm one of the Ravenclaw prefects. Feel free to come to me if you need anything."

"How about a map?" quipped one of the other students.

Marcus shook his head. "Can't help you there, I'm afraid. Your best bet if ever you get lost is asking a portrait for directions, or maybe a passing ghost."

As the group continued up staircase after staircase—apparently the Ravenclaw common room was in a tower, for some reason—the prefect continued sharing odd tidbits and factoids about the school in an annoyingly not-exhausted tone of voice.

Sans, who was trying not to look like he was huffing and puffing his way along, very much resented that. This castle was big, he was small, and in a group like this he couldn't cheat with shortcuts.

At the top of a tight spiral staircase was a small landing, just large enough to fit all of the Ravenclaw first years if they squeezed in tightly.

Marcus gestured at the door. "Here's the entrance to our common room. It's not particularly secret, but don't go spreading it around like the Gryffindors do with theirs."

Taking advantage of his short stature, Sans wove his way to the front of the group. Sirius had a bit more trouble, but got there eventually.

There was no doorknob, but, smack-dab at the center of the door, there was a bronze knocker shaped to look like an eagle in flight. A heavy ring was clutched in the bird's talons, and magic had been forged directly into the metal.

"We don't use passwords, you see," the prefect was saying, lifting the ring away from the door. "Instead, you need to answer a riddle."

Then he let the knocker thud back to the wood.

The eagle's beak opened, and a soft voice asked simply, "What has fewer holes, the more it is torn?"

"a net." Sans answered at once.

"Swiftly answered," the voice remarked. "Welcome, young Ravenclaws."

And so the door swung open.

The common room was a wide round space, as open and airy as the sky outside the tower walls. Though, of course, less rainy. Large arched windows lined the walls, flashes of lightning peeking from between shut curtains, and rain pattered peacefully on the glass. Patterns of stars were splashed across the domed ceiling and the carpet underfoot, and were even faintly carved onto the various pieces of furniture.

Sans approved. Though he thought it could use a single sock, positioned just so at the side of the largest bookshelf; he'd handle that later.

Again the group split, with the girls heading off their own way and the boys being led up yet another staircase to their own dorm. There were five beds—large four-posters hung with heavy blue curtains.

Sans found his small luggage at the end of one of them, alongside a large dog cushion: the perfect size for a certain golden retriever. He kicked his shoes off as Sirius curled up on his dog bed.

The disguised skeleton climbed into his own bed with difficulty, and Sirius had a doggy chuckle at his expense as he struggled. Cursing tall mattresses, having had to make use of his trunk to get all the way up, Sans flopped down on the pillow.

Then the lights flicked out, and the patter of rain lulled him to sleep.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

Some of the dialog in this chapter is directly from the book, so extra disclaimer there.

Dramatic entrance: Li-ten-ning/10

Sans Ian Skelton = Sans 'e' in Skeleton
It's a joke about the spelling. We're reaching levels of pun that shouldn't even be possible.

Updates are on the first of the month based on where I live, which is Colorado.
As always, thanks for all the support! I never thought this little story floating around in my head would do so well once I got it on paper: I mean, for goodness gracious we're almost at 900 reviews! So yeah. Thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I hope you continue to enjoy.

Ajar The Halo Nerd: Chara showing up from the locket was just the Horcrux poking around in Sans's SOUL to find people it could use against him. In the actual book, Ron sees Harry and Hermione taunting him. I figured Chara would be a good prospect that the shard would latch onto, as they are something Sans fears that the Horcrux could actually replicate. Thought I'd clear that up.

TheEscapedCharacter: I've read that same post about Cassius, and I confess that I've drawn quite a bit of inspiration from it.

xXx: Thanks for the review, even if you cut yourself off. Hey, just means two reviews for the price of one for me! I, too, can't believe it's been 30 chapters. On the one hand, that's a lot. On the other, true nuff, they've only just got to school!

Captain Tobi: How bored will Remus get?—depends. An office job is, frankly, pretty boring. But who know what kinda stuff might happen at the Ministry in general. They do have a whole department for mysteries, yaknow.

See ya on the flipside, everyone!