The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
When Gray grasped her hand, Errol relaxed slightly, feeling better now that the fellow Hufflepuff didn't judge her too harshly for being so sloppy and having a layer of grease coating her hand earlier. She failed to notice that Gray still lacked the comfort and confidence she had as she offered him a friendly toothy smile and rested her elbow onto the table, leaning onto it as she rested her cheek on it. "It's a pleasure to meet you too," she replied a little less formal than Gray, mostly due to the fact she lacked formality. Growing up, Errol never had to worry about being formal, she was never put into a situation where she had to limit herself to appear proper and reserved. In her family, everyone was open about everything, there was no secrets nor limits on how they behaved, as long as they were respectful to their Maimeó, anything was fine.
Now Errol was going to have to learn how to hold her tongue, at least in front of the Professors and in class. She didn't want to seem disrespectful and get off on the wrong foot with her elders. Slightly lost in her thoughts, Errol noticed the tension in Gray slip out with an exhale- she didn't know what had caused the sudden shift in his demeanour, but she was glad that he was relaxing a bit.
"So," she began, her fingers fiddling with a newly fallen curl that had found its way over her right eye. Most often than not, her hair was impossible to deal with, constantly disobeying her as it made attempt after attempt to fall into her face to blind her. No matter how many times she raked the curls back or tied her hair up it always escaped, which was one of the many reasons she was envious of her younger sister Eveleen. Eveleen never had to worry about her unruly hair that turned into a nest of knots almost every hour, at least not with her straight silky hair, but still, Errol wouldn't change her hair for the life of her. It was the Morgan family's hair, besides, Errol was beginning to learn a few tricks to control the curls.
"Where are you from?" she asked with eagerness.
Now Errol was going to have to learn how to hold her tongue, at least in front of the Professors and in class. She didn't want to seem disrespectful and get off on the wrong foot with her elders. Slightly lost in her thoughts, Errol noticed the tension in Gray slip out with an exhale- she didn't know what had caused the sudden shift in his demeanour, but she was glad that he was relaxing a bit.
"So," she began, her fingers fiddling with a newly fallen curl that had found its way over her right eye. Most often than not, her hair was impossible to deal with, constantly disobeying her as it made attempt after attempt to fall into her face to blind her. No matter how many times she raked the curls back or tied her hair up it always escaped, which was one of the many reasons she was envious of her younger sister Eveleen. Eveleen never had to worry about her unruly hair that turned into a nest of knots almost every hour, at least not with her straight silky hair, but still, Errol wouldn't change her hair for the life of her. It was the Morgan family's hair, besides, Errol was beginning to learn a few tricks to control the curls.
"Where are you from?" she asked with eagerness.
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
Noticing her fiddling with a curl of her hair that had just fallen off, Grant felt a twinge a of sympathy for her plight. For a moment, his eyes averted down towards the table at his right side. He too had issues with the curliness of his light, leather hair at times, especially back in the time when it used to reach beyond his shoulders a couple of years ago, he had a mullet back in the day. Along with that thought, a distant vision of the past played itself in a reel like motion in his mind, which was about an embarrassing time back when he was still in his old school.
During his days as a nine year old who was still not yet exposed to the world that contradicted much of the elements of the world he once knew, there was the time where he had to perform a presentation about a particular subject that Grant doesn't seem able to remember what, or bother exploring too deep into it. But he did remembered that the weather was noticeably thunderous that day, it was raining cats and dogs, heavy multitudes of nearly translucent water were drenching down on the school buildings, sizeable waves of water flowed down the continuous bricks that sit beside each other in the numerous worn-down walls the school still possesses after so many decades; the red paint of brick were almost gone by the time of this event. Occasionally, a strike of a zigzagged line will land upon the plain hills that watches over those below it, their blinding white streak of spontaneous electricity smoking the thin grass into disintegrated dust and ashes. The students at this specific school were safely inside the classrooms, the air conditioners installed emitted heat from their recently cleaned vents, keeping the youth and teachers warm after just walking through a rainstorm that had constantly rained down droplets on their jackets, coats, and for the unprepared, shirts.
Secured in his classroom, the Grant long ago felt a short wave of relief after escaping the heavy storm that gave them a difficult struggle that can be compared to the experience of walking underneath a rainfall of dominoes. This feeling however, would not last very long, as the day for presentations has now commenced, despite what Grant thinks of that. Unlike the usual relaxed giant others would see, Grant was visibly rubbing his hand with his fingers, scratching them as his apprehension devolves even further with every minute, and his entire body seemed to be unusually stiff for just going through several corridors of the school that looked small compared to others. His way of speech was also hindered, his inflections were inconsistent, and his tones were all over the place. In general, Gray Grant was not like himself that day in the mildly concerned eyes of his classmates and teachers.
Grant carefully placed his drenched bag down on the floor next to his seat, and positioned it into an alignment in which nobody could have any chance of tripping over, or where the leaking water could disperse off freely in the soft flooring of the classroom. Hastily, Grant would set himself in the desirable position on his chair, and waited patiently for the alarm to go off in order for class to begin. He can see that the teacher held a slight disgruntled look with his body practically laid down on his dim, leather chair. Via his ears, other classmates, who weren't already in the classroom, rushed in with a frazzled curve of their eyes, and an open frown.
Diiiiing!!!
Feeling even further aches throughout his curved back, Grant let out a soft groan as he straightens himself up, while his right hand would reorganize his tangled strands that was moist from the rain outside. As the teacher calls attendance, the cesspool of his worst sides held a spectating role during the session, watching as time flows through, and tightening its control of Grant's thoughts and feelings. Right after the call, the teacher immediately began calling up students to present their projects for the current unit taught for the past weeks. His anxious gaze stared at the wall-sized whiteboard, its gloss and black words on the side was all he could see from the outside, while his mind battles with the prospect of presenting something that's clearly not up to his standards, his apparent tiredness from lack of sleep, and would likely be at the most be marked an acceptable grade. The thin branches of the awfully stiff tree were tightly crossed, and its main body was positioned right in front of another thing that looked vaguely bipedal, while also moving its long opening, that seemed to radiate sounds connected together. As these vague images keep moving back and forth, the pale boy could only sense ambiguous conjoined vowels and consonants, that came out of the beings' holes in the form of signals to his ears.
Finally, from what seemed like an eternity in the stare through the deep etches and whiteness of the board, the teacher looked upon Grant's quiet, stiff disposition, with his left eyebrow raised up, he said his name with an unsteady articulation that sounded like an uncertainty the teacher hid inside his own mind. In a instant, and a surprise to everyone who so happens to be looking at him, Grant raised himself up from his desk, and interestingly enough, without his actual papers in his hot claws. The way he walked was quite automatic, for his every step on the floor was notable for their constant stiffness befitting of a machine walking on its own, everyone stared at him with a bewildered, yet interested gut in their stomachs. As Grant turned around from the whiteboard, his head was turning from left and right, gaining an outlook of its audience, and environment, making sure that everyone would pay attention to what he was going to say. From everyone sitting down on their desks, his watches appeared like a guard surveying an area in which they heard a unusual sound from, the cold, methodical gaze was unlike of anything they saw from Grant before, because of this, a chill much like they felt in the rain outside traveled down their spines. The occasional thunder and flashing lightning outside didn't exactly helped matters much.
The eyes in Grant's face wandered onto the ticking clock at his right hand view, the period was a couple of minutes from ending, he had to make this quick. Before he could even register or think properly, words came flooding out of Grant's mouth, each sentence, each pause, were almost exactly like the printed ink on his already worn sheets of white paper. With his hands placed on his back, he had on a gradual turn of his head back and forth, looking at the faces of his audience, taking noting of their every feature, and blemish manifested on themselves. Several times, his hands would release from each other's grasp, and gesticulated in various movements in order to emphasize some of his points. His blank stare was apparent to everyone watching him, to them, this was a clear indication that something was seriously wrong, but no one dared pointing out these unusual characteristics to Grant himself, not even the teacher himself.
As his speech went on, his bangs gradually fell upon his eyes, blocking his vision from his classmates while his mouth did all the work. This earned a few quiet chuckles out of some of them, but as soon as they do that, they would hastily shut down their mouths in order to quiet their involuntary gesture, not wanting to offend the ghastly giant speaking to them Grant himself doesn't seem to be too bothered or vexed by this occurrence, but later on, he pushed back his bangs as far as his hair would allow him to, using the sides of his left hand as his mouth moves with every word, phrase, pause, and emphasis he intents to share to his bemused congregation.
By the time he was finished, almost everyone felt deeply impacted by the late presentation, the smooth pace of his speech, organization, and serious tone were not things they expected to see from a nine year old. Despite the clear coldness of his oration, they felt a subtle passion that was underlying his words, it wasn't so cold that it was robotic, but instead, it had possessed a certain quality to it, that was filled with unrelenting confidence, without even a single hint of worry or anxiety. His utmost confidence in himself, and subtle passion in his work had an especially memorable effect on his speech, everyone in the room actually felt that they've learned something from his presentation.
With a wide smile on his face, he spoke his final words to the classroom, "Thank you for listening to my presentation, I appreciate that all of you were intent on the subject matter, for that, I must thank you again." Then he took a quick bow, and had promptly gone back and forth to his desk to return his actual papers to his teacher, the teacher without even looking, grabbed hold of the papers off of Grant's hand, his wide eyes, still pleasantly surprised from the late presentation. With a slight smile, Grant walked back to his desk, knowing that he had most likely succeeded his assignment.
Diiiiiiinnng!
Class was over, and everyone hurried themselves out of their classrooms so they could go home. Along with them was Grant, who was still blissfully unaware of what he had just done. It wasn't until he stepped out of the gate in which one of his classmates ran up to him right in front of his face, and blabbered incessantly about his presentation. When she was done, Grant was left with wide eyes, stretched cheeks, and open mouth, he stood there for five seconds until he abruptly moved forward to his home a few blocks away, while his head was down. When he returned home, he immediately veered into his room, dropped his backpack with one unclasp besides his bed, and buried his face on his pillow, just to process and attempt to remember what exactly happened there.
Coming back from his flashback, Grant returned his blue eyes back to Morgan's greens, and relaxed his chin on his right palm, with the elbow stationed on the table. He wondered what Morgan was thinking about, perhaps her family or friends back home? Whatever it was, he was perfectly able to listen to anything that comes out of her mouth. Sensing a curl is about to drop on his left eye, he quickly pushed it upwards with the rest of its fellow strands, chuckling to himself at the coincidence.
In response to Morgan's question, with the same eagerness Morgan had wielded, "I came from Manchester of England, it's a nice big city that has a lot of people in it. It's nice there, but my mother and I aren't exactly rich, neither was there any hint of this anywhere back at home. In fact, I don't even know my own father, but my mother did mentioned that he had a certain 'magical' quality to him, I guess she was talking about his magical abilities. From where I'm from, there wasn't anything like this, it was more..."
Grant would quickly place his fingers on his chin, trying to think of a suitable phrase or word. "Modern, not as colorful or fantastical, but with an extensive amount of technology, you can probably tell that I'm not from a magical family, but a 'muggle' one, is the word right? Anyways, I'm from the muggle regions of the world, there was no magic until my Hogwarts letter came in the mail a bit of a while back."
Grant would let out a small chuckle at how out of place his background probably is among other fellow wizards, he was just like a normal muggle boy before he even received his letter, blissfully unaware of the magical world that was seemingly far away from his line of sights.
During his days as a nine year old who was still not yet exposed to the world that contradicted much of the elements of the world he once knew, there was the time where he had to perform a presentation about a particular subject that Grant doesn't seem able to remember what, or bother exploring too deep into it. But he did remembered that the weather was noticeably thunderous that day, it was raining cats and dogs, heavy multitudes of nearly translucent water were drenching down on the school buildings, sizeable waves of water flowed down the continuous bricks that sit beside each other in the numerous worn-down walls the school still possesses after so many decades; the red paint of brick were almost gone by the time of this event. Occasionally, a strike of a zigzagged line will land upon the plain hills that watches over those below it, their blinding white streak of spontaneous electricity smoking the thin grass into disintegrated dust and ashes. The students at this specific school were safely inside the classrooms, the air conditioners installed emitted heat from their recently cleaned vents, keeping the youth and teachers warm after just walking through a rainstorm that had constantly rained down droplets on their jackets, coats, and for the unprepared, shirts.
Secured in his classroom, the Grant long ago felt a short wave of relief after escaping the heavy storm that gave them a difficult struggle that can be compared to the experience of walking underneath a rainfall of dominoes. This feeling however, would not last very long, as the day for presentations has now commenced, despite what Grant thinks of that. Unlike the usual relaxed giant others would see, Grant was visibly rubbing his hand with his fingers, scratching them as his apprehension devolves even further with every minute, and his entire body seemed to be unusually stiff for just going through several corridors of the school that looked small compared to others. His way of speech was also hindered, his inflections were inconsistent, and his tones were all over the place. In general, Gray Grant was not like himself that day in the mildly concerned eyes of his classmates and teachers.
Grant carefully placed his drenched bag down on the floor next to his seat, and positioned it into an alignment in which nobody could have any chance of tripping over, or where the leaking water could disperse off freely in the soft flooring of the classroom. Hastily, Grant would set himself in the desirable position on his chair, and waited patiently for the alarm to go off in order for class to begin. He can see that the teacher held a slight disgruntled look with his body practically laid down on his dim, leather chair. Via his ears, other classmates, who weren't already in the classroom, rushed in with a frazzled curve of their eyes, and an open frown.
Diiiiing!!!
Feeling even further aches throughout his curved back, Grant let out a soft groan as he straightens himself up, while his right hand would reorganize his tangled strands that was moist from the rain outside. As the teacher calls attendance, the cesspool of his worst sides held a spectating role during the session, watching as time flows through, and tightening its control of Grant's thoughts and feelings. Right after the call, the teacher immediately began calling up students to present their projects for the current unit taught for the past weeks. His anxious gaze stared at the wall-sized whiteboard, its gloss and black words on the side was all he could see from the outside, while his mind battles with the prospect of presenting something that's clearly not up to his standards, his apparent tiredness from lack of sleep, and would likely be at the most be marked an acceptable grade. The thin branches of the awfully stiff tree were tightly crossed, and its main body was positioned right in front of another thing that looked vaguely bipedal, while also moving its long opening, that seemed to radiate sounds connected together. As these vague images keep moving back and forth, the pale boy could only sense ambiguous conjoined vowels and consonants, that came out of the beings' holes in the form of signals to his ears.
Finally, from what seemed like an eternity in the stare through the deep etches and whiteness of the board, the teacher looked upon Grant's quiet, stiff disposition, with his left eyebrow raised up, he said his name with an unsteady articulation that sounded like an uncertainty the teacher hid inside his own mind. In a instant, and a surprise to everyone who so happens to be looking at him, Grant raised himself up from his desk, and interestingly enough, without his actual papers in his hot claws. The way he walked was quite automatic, for his every step on the floor was notable for their constant stiffness befitting of a machine walking on its own, everyone stared at him with a bewildered, yet interested gut in their stomachs. As Grant turned around from the whiteboard, his head was turning from left and right, gaining an outlook of its audience, and environment, making sure that everyone would pay attention to what he was going to say. From everyone sitting down on their desks, his watches appeared like a guard surveying an area in which they heard a unusual sound from, the cold, methodical gaze was unlike of anything they saw from Grant before, because of this, a chill much like they felt in the rain outside traveled down their spines. The occasional thunder and flashing lightning outside didn't exactly helped matters much.
The eyes in Grant's face wandered onto the ticking clock at his right hand view, the period was a couple of minutes from ending, he had to make this quick. Before he could even register or think properly, words came flooding out of Grant's mouth, each sentence, each pause, were almost exactly like the printed ink on his already worn sheets of white paper. With his hands placed on his back, he had on a gradual turn of his head back and forth, looking at the faces of his audience, taking noting of their every feature, and blemish manifested on themselves. Several times, his hands would release from each other's grasp, and gesticulated in various movements in order to emphasize some of his points. His blank stare was apparent to everyone watching him, to them, this was a clear indication that something was seriously wrong, but no one dared pointing out these unusual characteristics to Grant himself, not even the teacher himself.
As his speech went on, his bangs gradually fell upon his eyes, blocking his vision from his classmates while his mouth did all the work. This earned a few quiet chuckles out of some of them, but as soon as they do that, they would hastily shut down their mouths in order to quiet their involuntary gesture, not wanting to offend the ghastly giant speaking to them Grant himself doesn't seem to be too bothered or vexed by this occurrence, but later on, he pushed back his bangs as far as his hair would allow him to, using the sides of his left hand as his mouth moves with every word, phrase, pause, and emphasis he intents to share to his bemused congregation.
By the time he was finished, almost everyone felt deeply impacted by the late presentation, the smooth pace of his speech, organization, and serious tone were not things they expected to see from a nine year old. Despite the clear coldness of his oration, they felt a subtle passion that was underlying his words, it wasn't so cold that it was robotic, but instead, it had possessed a certain quality to it, that was filled with unrelenting confidence, without even a single hint of worry or anxiety. His utmost confidence in himself, and subtle passion in his work had an especially memorable effect on his speech, everyone in the room actually felt that they've learned something from his presentation.
With a wide smile on his face, he spoke his final words to the classroom, "Thank you for listening to my presentation, I appreciate that all of you were intent on the subject matter, for that, I must thank you again." Then he took a quick bow, and had promptly gone back and forth to his desk to return his actual papers to his teacher, the teacher without even looking, grabbed hold of the papers off of Grant's hand, his wide eyes, still pleasantly surprised from the late presentation. With a slight smile, Grant walked back to his desk, knowing that he had most likely succeeded his assignment.
Diiiiiiinnng!
Class was over, and everyone hurried themselves out of their classrooms so they could go home. Along with them was Grant, who was still blissfully unaware of what he had just done. It wasn't until he stepped out of the gate in which one of his classmates ran up to him right in front of his face, and blabbered incessantly about his presentation. When she was done, Grant was left with wide eyes, stretched cheeks, and open mouth, he stood there for five seconds until he abruptly moved forward to his home a few blocks away, while his head was down. When he returned home, he immediately veered into his room, dropped his backpack with one unclasp besides his bed, and buried his face on his pillow, just to process and attempt to remember what exactly happened there.
Coming back from his flashback, Grant returned his blue eyes back to Morgan's greens, and relaxed his chin on his right palm, with the elbow stationed on the table. He wondered what Morgan was thinking about, perhaps her family or friends back home? Whatever it was, he was perfectly able to listen to anything that comes out of her mouth. Sensing a curl is about to drop on his left eye, he quickly pushed it upwards with the rest of its fellow strands, chuckling to himself at the coincidence.
In response to Morgan's question, with the same eagerness Morgan had wielded, "I came from Manchester of England, it's a nice big city that has a lot of people in it. It's nice there, but my mother and I aren't exactly rich, neither was there any hint of this anywhere back at home. In fact, I don't even know my own father, but my mother did mentioned that he had a certain 'magical' quality to him, I guess she was talking about his magical abilities. From where I'm from, there wasn't anything like this, it was more..."
Grant would quickly place his fingers on his chin, trying to think of a suitable phrase or word. "Modern, not as colorful or fantastical, but with an extensive amount of technology, you can probably tell that I'm not from a magical family, but a 'muggle' one, is the word right? Anyways, I'm from the muggle regions of the world, there was no magic until my Hogwarts letter came in the mail a bit of a while back."
Grant would let out a small chuckle at how out of place his background probably is among other fellow wizards, he was just like a normal muggle boy before he even received his letter, blissfully unaware of the magical world that was seemingly far away from his line of sights.
Reducio
More than 2000 characters, holy moly...
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
A large smile was plastered on Malum's face as she sat down at the Hufflepuff table. Her eyes widened at the sight of all the deserts. In her opinion, desert was clearly the best part of the meal, and must always come first. She cheerfully munched on a slice of cake, observing her surroundings.
From her peripheral vision, all Malum could see were more Hufflepuffs, possibly even future friends. Straight ahead there was other house tables, which could also possibly contain future friends. All Malum wanted to achieve at the moment was friendship. Her sister was nowhere in sight, which slightly worried her. Regardless, Malum remained in a positive mood. She was not going to allow her troubles to get the best of her!
Her thoughts drifted over to the recent sorting. What was it like in other houses? She wondered. Malum was very content with the one she was placed in, but she was curious. Gryffindor was for the brave. Bravery was something Malum respected. Ravenclaw for the wise. Wisdom was always handy, hopefully she would meet someone from that house. Slytherin was full of clever people. They could probably get out of bad situations with ease.
As she waited for someone to spark up a conversation, her gaze shifted to the ceiling. Most likely, it was always going to fascinate her. She let out a sigh, nobody wanted to chat. This was alright though!Malum would simply find people elsewhere. The young girl skipped out of the Great Hall, determined to find some friends.
From her peripheral vision, all Malum could see were more Hufflepuffs, possibly even future friends. Straight ahead there was other house tables, which could also possibly contain future friends. All Malum wanted to achieve at the moment was friendship. Her sister was nowhere in sight, which slightly worried her. Regardless, Malum remained in a positive mood. She was not going to allow her troubles to get the best of her!
Her thoughts drifted over to the recent sorting. What was it like in other houses? She wondered. Malum was very content with the one she was placed in, but she was curious. Gryffindor was for the brave. Bravery was something Malum respected. Ravenclaw for the wise. Wisdom was always handy, hopefully she would meet someone from that house. Slytherin was full of clever people. They could probably get out of bad situations with ease.
As she waited for someone to spark up a conversation, her gaze shifted to the ceiling. Most likely, it was always going to fascinate her. She let out a sigh, nobody wanted to chat. This was alright though!Malum would simply find people elsewhere. The young girl skipped out of the Great Hall, determined to find some friends.
M. N.
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
Happy to finally have a house and the one she was rooting for, she sat down at the table rather quicker than she aught as she almost tripped into someone already sitting there. She sat down and ignored anyone who may have said anything as she was too intently listening to the sorting as to focus herself on any one thing other than the crowded room. She looked at the candles on the ceiling again and appreciated how they glowed not too brightly. As she was hypertensive to light as well as sound. She pet Charlie's back a bit until he sat down in a seat next to her that was just enough room for him.
"Thanks Charlie for the comfort." she said to him.
He ruffed back at her. She looked all around at the room... All the people. The kids of different ages and all the pointy hatted children her age still standing, waiting, for themselves to be called.
"What a long ceremony. I'm so hungry." She muttered to herself as she looked to her left and right, taking in the people around her.
"I wonder if they have veggie only options." She though aloud as she looked at the empty plate in front of her.
After another student was called she couldn't take it anymore and left to the quiet or rather... Hopefully quiet common room. "Come on, Charlie." She said to her cat who was batting at a fork on the table. She left quietly to the Common Room.[/i]
"Thanks Charlie for the comfort." she said to him.
He ruffed back at her. She looked all around at the room... All the people. The kids of different ages and all the pointy hatted children her age still standing, waiting, for themselves to be called.
"What a long ceremony. I'm so hungry." She muttered to herself as she looked to her left and right, taking in the people around her.
"I wonder if they have veggie only options." She though aloud as she looked at the empty plate in front of her.
After another student was called she couldn't take it anymore and left to the quiet or rather... Hopefully quiet common room. "Come on, Charlie." She said to her cat who was batting at a fork on the table. She left quietly to the Common Room.[/i]
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
Once the sorting was done with, all that was left was to join up with the rest of his house members. Finding the Hufflepuff table was easy enough. Everyone seemed pretty lively, with students chatting, laughing and just having a good time. Zander had never seen so many people eating together, so it was a new but memorable spectacle for him. Hogwarts was a magical school, so naturally the food was unreal. Every table was decorated by numerous exotic delicacies. Just the aroma in the air made his stomach rumble.
Advancing towards the Hufflepuff table, he scanned the students present. Everyone had welcoming smiles and comforting auras, probably the advantage of being in Hufflepuff. Locking on an empty seat among the first, he proceeded to take it. Settling down, he wondered if he should start conversations with the other first year students. Before he could follow on with the thought, all the food present in front of him proved too tempting to ignore. Picking up his plate, he started to gather whatever he fancied, which was a lot. This was going to be the grandest meal of his life by far. Sitting down to eat he wondered if the rest of his meals in hogwarts would be similar.
Zander was fairly surprised at the hustle-bustle emanating from the hall as a whole. There would be several future wizards who would become famous from here on. He wondered for a moment what the future had in store for him. Grand success or epic failure? Either way he hoped to leave a mark , so that he wouldn't just be forgotten, lost to the ravines of time. Only time would determine that. Currently he needed to focus on academics and school activities. Maybe make a friend or two. After all they were going to be in Hogwarts for seven years. Being a loner wasn’t a good option. Especially the members of the same house needed to stick together.
Advancing towards the Hufflepuff table, he scanned the students present. Everyone had welcoming smiles and comforting auras, probably the advantage of being in Hufflepuff. Locking on an empty seat among the first, he proceeded to take it. Settling down, he wondered if he should start conversations with the other first year students. Before he could follow on with the thought, all the food present in front of him proved too tempting to ignore. Picking up his plate, he started to gather whatever he fancied, which was a lot. This was going to be the grandest meal of his life by far. Sitting down to eat he wondered if the rest of his meals in hogwarts would be similar.
Zander was fairly surprised at the hustle-bustle emanating from the hall as a whole. There would be several future wizards who would become famous from here on. He wondered for a moment what the future had in store for him. Grand success or epic failure? Either way he hoped to leave a mark , so that he wouldn't just be forgotten, lost to the ravines of time. Only time would determine that. Currently he needed to focus on academics and school activities. Maybe make a friend or two. After all they were going to be in Hogwarts for seven years. Being a loner wasn’t a good option. Especially the members of the same house needed to stick together.
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
With an excited nod that bounced a curl back onto her face, Errol smiled approvingly at Gray's choice of words, already the young half-blood was picking up on wizard terminology, Errol couldn't help but think that he would fit into this school in no time. "Yup, Muggle is the word," she replied as she turned to the table and snatched a buttered bread roll from one of the platters on the table, her appetite slightly returning as she conversed with the fellow Hufflepuff even though moments ago it felt like her stomach would pop. Taking a bite she nodded as Gray finished up his sentences. Now that he was relaxed his words weren't so messy, instead they ran smoothly out of his mouth like honey, when he had finished, Errol swallowed the rest of her mouthful and smiled.
"England, huh?" she said as her eyes rolled upwards to the sky as she imagined the neighbouring country she had never set foot in- at least not since her birth. It was probably like Ireland she imagined, probably. In her head everywhere must've been like her laidback home, at least that was until she was forced to leave it and head into the city where everything was much more livelier than her home but also a bit more dreary with the major lack of magic, almost like all the wonder of the world had been sucked out by the presences of Muggles. It hadn't even been a full school day and already Hogwarts was changing her life and way of thinking nearly completely.
"So did you like this better," she asked vaguely, her gaze returning to him with a look of innocent curiosity, her smile growing small as a more serious mood took over. "I mean the magic?" she clarified before he misunderstood. Growing up, Errol had little to no contact with the Muggle world, the closest being the few trips she made into town with one of her aunts, but those became fewer and fewer as Eveleen grew up and instead of Errol, who's long limbs and wild curls caught everyone's gazes, it was subtle Eveleen who was brought along. Errol never minded, her heart to pure and innocent to feel jealousy, instead, she would take that time away from her youngest sibling to go on adventures her Maimeó said was too dangerous for the babes.
Errol's visions of the Muggle World were incredibly vague due to this and she thought it was a wonder how they lived without the existence of magic, which was so obviously thriving in the world around them if only they looked harder. Poor Gray was going to hear an earful of questions whenever Errol could manage to shoot a question out, she was starving for knowledge and Gray was a chief. Wiping the bit of melted butter that had managed to miss her mouth and coat her lips like a thick oily lipstick with one of the napkins, she once more plucked up the roll and took another bite. This time she did it with more care in order not to fully disgust her new friend and make a further mess out of herself.
"England, huh?" she said as her eyes rolled upwards to the sky as she imagined the neighbouring country she had never set foot in- at least not since her birth. It was probably like Ireland she imagined, probably. In her head everywhere must've been like her laidback home, at least that was until she was forced to leave it and head into the city where everything was much more livelier than her home but also a bit more dreary with the major lack of magic, almost like all the wonder of the world had been sucked out by the presences of Muggles. It hadn't even been a full school day and already Hogwarts was changing her life and way of thinking nearly completely.
"So did you like this better," she asked vaguely, her gaze returning to him with a look of innocent curiosity, her smile growing small as a more serious mood took over. "I mean the magic?" she clarified before he misunderstood. Growing up, Errol had little to no contact with the Muggle world, the closest being the few trips she made into town with one of her aunts, but those became fewer and fewer as Eveleen grew up and instead of Errol, who's long limbs and wild curls caught everyone's gazes, it was subtle Eveleen who was brought along. Errol never minded, her heart to pure and innocent to feel jealousy, instead, she would take that time away from her youngest sibling to go on adventures her Maimeó said was too dangerous for the babes.
Errol's visions of the Muggle World were incredibly vague due to this and she thought it was a wonder how they lived without the existence of magic, which was so obviously thriving in the world around them if only they looked harder. Poor Gray was going to hear an earful of questions whenever Errol could manage to shoot a question out, she was starving for knowledge and Gray was a chief. Wiping the bit of melted butter that had managed to miss her mouth and coat her lips like a thick oily lipstick with one of the napkins, she once more plucked up the roll and took another bite. This time she did it with more care in order not to fully disgust her new friend and make a further mess out of herself.
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
Roma shakily sits down in a seat away from the rest, staring up at the ceiling, and trying to focus on how that was even possible instead of how practically's eyes were on her just moments before. After a while of staring at the ceiling, which she wasn't sure was a ceiling at all, she stared down at her plate, not really in the mood to eat at all. Despite how hungry she had been before, she couldn't really stomach that she'd had to run away from her parents, no matter if she couldn't have come here had she let them bring her. She shuts her eyes for a moment, and then opens them, gazing off into space, or rather, into her plate. She reminds herself to clap as the hat screams out "HUFFLEPUFF!" again, finally calming down somewhat, and managing not to burst into tears. She bites her lip, gazing at the rest of the Hufflepuffs at her table, wondering how she could have been sorted into a house so kind and friendly when she couldn't so much as reply with a simple "Hi" to a stranger saying "Hello" to her. She puts her head in her hands, waiting to go to bed.
Because we all have those little twinkles and those little twinkles are all important and beautiful and without even one the sky just wouldn't be the same.
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
"Hmm," Grant's eyes would wander off into the direction towards the lit flames on top of the sticks of wax, now that he thinks about it, does he really prefer the world of magic over its modern counterpart? For some reason, this was a difficult question for the newly initiated giant to answer, after all, he was once a denizen of the "muggle" world until approximately a week ago, and he had only just tasted the tip of the world befitting of a fantasy. Slowly raising his hand up to his chin, he rubbed it in a motion much like a farmer hoeing their planted crops, his eyes would wander throughout the medieval Gothic architecture of the spacious, brightly lit hall, just by examining the style of the castle itself, remembering how dated Diagon Alley is in terms of its structures, and the fact that wizards are apparently still using trains to get to places, he suspects that the magical world doesn't have the same comforts or technology the other world.
From what seemed only like a few seconds to anyone outside before the tall boy replies back, inside his mind, gears turn and spin in the form of innumerable neurons relaying electrical signals to each other as Grant thought about the magical existence for his first impression. With the quite outdated architecture in mind, what about the conditions themselves? Well, most of the things he saw here seemed well-kept, and clean, though it didn't seemed as sanitary or "safe" as your average public building, of course, there's always magic to take care of that, but knowing which spell would be most suitable is unfortunately outside the bounds of his knowledge. One more thing to mind is that apparently, according to another student whom Grant eavesdropped from a couple of meters away. there are moving staircases, now okay, that sounds like a fantastic idea at first, being able to go from one place to another just by waiting for the platform you're standing on to connect with another one sounds mint, but if you account the risks for falling off, accidental disconnections, and possible motion sickness the idea as a whole seems to fall apart, especially in terms of everyday use. Again, there's magic to take care of the disconnect problem, but the other issues? No clue.
Concerning the staircases, there's also people, people can be stupid, some even do it as a full time job, or switch on their stupid side 24/7. And when people act dumb, they tend to take risks, risks that would certainly get them killed, and when you put in moving staircases into the mix, this could end terribly for that person, and the cleanup crew, morbidly enough. If he sees people falling off staircases onto another, especially if there's indeed a big section of such staircases, he's not going to save them, unless they're a friend, if they ended up falling off into the abyss in which their body ends up being contorted in all sorts of horrible directions or protrusions, along with a large pool of blood slowly flowing on the stone floor. Yikes. And if they succeeded anyway, well, hopefully they'll succeed the next time, otherwise... But people here don't seem to be particularly daredevils, they're probably smart enough that jumping off stairs that can move is probably not the greatest idea of all time, at least, Grant hopes so.
In addition, technology seems to be one's least advanced in this world, the denizens here are still using quills and ink for writing for god's sake. It could be a stylistic thing for all he knows, but still, there are pencils and pens that are much more convenient, so why not use them? As far as he's seen now, electronics are nonexistent, he's definitely going to miss them quite a bit, but hey, we got magic, that's good enough, right? But still, why hasn't anyone here brought any electronic device into here yet, there's got to be some sort of catch somewhere about, maybe magic doesn't work well with these kind of things.
With technology in mind, what happens if we combine it with magic? Will the world suddenly have their minds blown by the sheer genius of such a combination? Or will it fall flat on its face when trying to do more of the advanced functions. Even then, such a combination would make the world a more interesting place indeed, perhaps at that point of time, the magical world and the muggle will finally be one... And if such a thing happens, he can freely visit his mother anytime he wants to, because the world is finally just one, and there's no barrier or limitation that'll keep them apart, he'll have a much easier time fulfilling his lifelong dream. But alas, the muggles and the wizards would likely wage war on each other, unable to accept their differences, and all that would be left of the world is a charred piece of rock and metal. Sometimes he wishes that humans would just get along, and have peace in the world, without constantly fighting or bickering. Anyways, he hasn't yet seen or felt the full version of the world he's in yet, he's got to experience a couple of years of it, or perhaps longer. Maybe he'll figure out a way to unite tech and magic together, perhaps something to research into for later times...
Quickly, his hands would unclasp from the protrusion of his lower jaw, and returned his eyes back to Morgan. He's already had a moment of thinking, now to finally answer her question. Placing his arms on the table, and overlapping them, he nudged his head to an exact point in the air where his speech would be perfectly heard. Finally, his lips finally start to open up...
"As for that, I don't think I've been in this world long enough to get a good opinion of it. Indeed magic is absolutely amazing, and a wonder of the world, but I do find myself to be having some issues with how society here functions. It just seems outdated from the muggle world I once lived in, when it comes to technology and architecture, of course, I've lived almost my entire life there."
Grant would chuckle a little, but a hint of stutter can be heard towards the end, he himself is nervous about his choice of words. Hopefully, he's not offending her or anyone else sitting around him...
"Ah, is there a particular reason or rationality of why wizards haven't adapted to the ways of the muggle, or at least some of it. I mean, combining technology and magic sounds like a fantastic idea, right? With the internet, smartphones, world wide communication, and all of that advanced stuff. ... It's not like anyone here actually believes that the way they are, automatically makes them superior to other people unlike them. I mean, that's totally ridiculous."
A slight upward curve can be sighted from the corners of his mouth, with his eyes staring at Morgan's facial features. Trying to make light of the last statement, Grant slightly grinned, as if he was attempting to make such claims less serious than what they're really are, and that such a thing wouldn't be manifested in reality. At least, that's what Grant's optimism led him to.
From what seemed only like a few seconds to anyone outside before the tall boy replies back, inside his mind, gears turn and spin in the form of innumerable neurons relaying electrical signals to each other as Grant thought about the magical existence for his first impression. With the quite outdated architecture in mind, what about the conditions themselves? Well, most of the things he saw here seemed well-kept, and clean, though it didn't seemed as sanitary or "safe" as your average public building, of course, there's always magic to take care of that, but knowing which spell would be most suitable is unfortunately outside the bounds of his knowledge. One more thing to mind is that apparently, according to another student whom Grant eavesdropped from a couple of meters away. there are moving staircases, now okay, that sounds like a fantastic idea at first, being able to go from one place to another just by waiting for the platform you're standing on to connect with another one sounds mint, but if you account the risks for falling off, accidental disconnections, and possible motion sickness the idea as a whole seems to fall apart, especially in terms of everyday use. Again, there's magic to take care of the disconnect problem, but the other issues? No clue.
Concerning the staircases, there's also people, people can be stupid, some even do it as a full time job, or switch on their stupid side 24/7. And when people act dumb, they tend to take risks, risks that would certainly get them killed, and when you put in moving staircases into the mix, this could end terribly for that person, and the cleanup crew, morbidly enough. If he sees people falling off staircases onto another, especially if there's indeed a big section of such staircases, he's not going to save them, unless they're a friend, if they ended up falling off into the abyss in which their body ends up being contorted in all sorts of horrible directions or protrusions, along with a large pool of blood slowly flowing on the stone floor. Yikes. And if they succeeded anyway, well, hopefully they'll succeed the next time, otherwise... But people here don't seem to be particularly daredevils, they're probably smart enough that jumping off stairs that can move is probably not the greatest idea of all time, at least, Grant hopes so.
In addition, technology seems to be one's least advanced in this world, the denizens here are still using quills and ink for writing for god's sake. It could be a stylistic thing for all he knows, but still, there are pencils and pens that are much more convenient, so why not use them? As far as he's seen now, electronics are nonexistent, he's definitely going to miss them quite a bit, but hey, we got magic, that's good enough, right? But still, why hasn't anyone here brought any electronic device into here yet, there's got to be some sort of catch somewhere about, maybe magic doesn't work well with these kind of things.
With technology in mind, what happens if we combine it with magic? Will the world suddenly have their minds blown by the sheer genius of such a combination? Or will it fall flat on its face when trying to do more of the advanced functions. Even then, such a combination would make the world a more interesting place indeed, perhaps at that point of time, the magical world and the muggle will finally be one... And if such a thing happens, he can freely visit his mother anytime he wants to, because the world is finally just one, and there's no barrier or limitation that'll keep them apart, he'll have a much easier time fulfilling his lifelong dream. But alas, the muggles and the wizards would likely wage war on each other, unable to accept their differences, and all that would be left of the world is a charred piece of rock and metal. Sometimes he wishes that humans would just get along, and have peace in the world, without constantly fighting or bickering. Anyways, he hasn't yet seen or felt the full version of the world he's in yet, he's got to experience a couple of years of it, or perhaps longer. Maybe he'll figure out a way to unite tech and magic together, perhaps something to research into for later times...
Quickly, his hands would unclasp from the protrusion of his lower jaw, and returned his eyes back to Morgan. He's already had a moment of thinking, now to finally answer her question. Placing his arms on the table, and overlapping them, he nudged his head to an exact point in the air where his speech would be perfectly heard. Finally, his lips finally start to open up...
"As for that, I don't think I've been in this world long enough to get a good opinion of it. Indeed magic is absolutely amazing, and a wonder of the world, but I do find myself to be having some issues with how society here functions. It just seems outdated from the muggle world I once lived in, when it comes to technology and architecture, of course, I've lived almost my entire life there."
Grant would chuckle a little, but a hint of stutter can be heard towards the end, he himself is nervous about his choice of words. Hopefully, he's not offending her or anyone else sitting around him...
"Ah, is there a particular reason or rationality of why wizards haven't adapted to the ways of the muggle, or at least some of it. I mean, combining technology and magic sounds like a fantastic idea, right? With the internet, smartphones, world wide communication, and all of that advanced stuff. ... It's not like anyone here actually believes that the way they are, automatically makes them superior to other people unlike them. I mean, that's totally ridiculous."
A slight upward curve can be sighted from the corners of his mouth, with his eyes staring at Morgan's facial features. Trying to make light of the last statement, Grant slightly grinned, as if he was attempting to make such claims less serious than what they're really are, and that such a thing wouldn't be manifested in reality. At least, that's what Grant's optimism led him to.
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
Sarafina glanced around before sitting suspiciously at the Hufflepuff table. She was far too shy to start a conversation, and didn’t feel like talking to people anyway. She didn’t know anyone, but didn’t really want to. She was immensely surprised on how she had gotten Hufflepuff. There must have been some mistake. She had always thought she would be in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. She was very smart after all. But maybe she was in Hufflepuff because she strove for Justice? That seemed more of a Gryffindor thing... she puzzled over this, not paying any attention to the person beside her. They might have been trying to talk to her, but she honestly didn’t care. She didn’t touch the door on her plate, just sat and stared off into space. She could tell she probably wouldn’t be making any friends. Who would want to be friends with her? She was weird and dreamy, the hugest introvert in the world, and now had been sorted into Hufflepuff! The world must really hate her, she thought. Her blue eyes focused on the floating candles. They were beautiful, but at the same time seemed a huge fire hazard. But then again, it was magic. Everything nowadays is magic, she thought to herself.
Fina
The Hufflepuff Table 2017 - 2018
Oh boy. Amadea could hear the loud chatter of her fellow classmates from the end of the corridor. She walked slowly up to the entrance of the Great Hall, peeked in, and immediately withdrew her head from the room and slouched against the wall, trying to catch her breath.
No, she told herself fiercely. She was not going to have a panic attack right here. She had successfully survived through her first few days at Hogwarts without being terrified enough to lose her cool like this. She closed her eyes, feeling the cool stone seeping through her robes onto her skin. She took a deep breath and turned toward the Great Hall again. This time, she walked through the entrance and navigated her way toward the Hufflepuff table. Many people looked as out of place as Amadea was feeling, which gave her a slight bit of comfort. She sat down at the table and set her things down. Some people next to her were chatting, but others were staring down at the table just like Amadea was. She looked around and decided to crack open a book. If someone wanted to talk to her, they could make the effort. Amadea had already had enough of trying to talk to people today.
No, she told herself fiercely. She was not going to have a panic attack right here. She had successfully survived through her first few days at Hogwarts without being terrified enough to lose her cool like this. She closed her eyes, feeling the cool stone seeping through her robes onto her skin. She took a deep breath and turned toward the Great Hall again. This time, she walked through the entrance and navigated her way toward the Hufflepuff table. Many people looked as out of place as Amadea was feeling, which gave her a slight bit of comfort. She sat down at the table and set her things down. Some people next to her were chatting, but others were staring down at the table just like Amadea was. She looked around and decided to crack open a book. If someone wanted to talk to her, they could make the effort. Amadea had already had enough of trying to talk to people today.