General The Gryffindor Table 2018-2019

Margaret practically ran to the table, hoping for the start of the great feast. However, it still took a couple more hours since everyone was still getting sorted. She began tapping a random rhythm in the wooden table which caused some of the students to look at her in annoyance.
In frustration, she engaged the person next to her in a one-sided conversation about muggle sports.

"Hello, hello, how do you do? My name's Margaret but you can call me Maggy. Or Marga. Or Ret. I don't know just tell me when you're talking to me. Anyway, have you ever played football? It's like a muggle version of Quidditch, but get this... IT'S PLAYED WITHOUT BROOMS and only one ball. Muggles go crazy for it I tell ya. They only have this one box with moving pictures which they call a telly and my dad always goes crazy for football when we're watching it there--" chattering away, Margaret passed the time until suddenly, food appears on the table like a magical heavenly dream.

Margaret cuts herself off and begins stuffing her face with all kinds of delicious food and desserts.
"Man! This is the best!" says Margaret looking around at all the happy chattering students around her, she thinks: this is home now.

With a happy heart, Nora hurried over to her House's table that was already nearly filled with Gryffindor students. It was easy to tell which students were first years as they had the glow of either excitement or anxiety about them. Nora figured she probably looked the same way.

There weren't many spaces left on the table, so she opted for one next to a boy and a girl talking about clubs and exploring the castle, which seemed like just the conversation she could participate in. Nora sat next to the girl who was even more blonde than she was, and gave her and the boy a polite smile.

"Y'know I've go' a knack for findin' things that don' wanna be found," she said cheerfully, her Scottish accent more prominent than she would have liked. The majority of students here were probably English, so it would only make sense for her to try to follow their dialect and accent. But it was much harder than she'd expected. "I'm Nora, by the way. Maybe we could all do a li'l explorin' together sometime?" It was much easier to strike up a conversation with Muggles, Nora realized, since she knew more about their world than the wizarding world. While her mother had taught her the basics of her world, living in the Muggle world tended to make one more akin to Muggles.

Emile let out a sigh of relief as the sorting hat was removed from his head. He had gotten Gryffindor! It was the exact house he had hoped for. The gold, the red, loyalty, leadership. What could be better? He hoped the people at the table would be as lovely as he hoped they would be. 

As he walked up to the table his heart started to beat really fast for some reason. Well, maybe it was because he was about to meet the people he would be spending the next couple of years with. That was probably it. As he walked over to the table he took deep breaths, almost a bit dramatically. 

He then took out his small notebook from his pocket and scribbled something down on it. Thankfully, the Gryffindor table was somewhat far away, so he had a bit of time to collect himself—or so he thought. 

“What do you call a lazy Gryffindor?” He started. Oh my god what am I doing. “We’re just lion around!” He finished. He felt so utterly stupid in that moment, but thankfully most of the table laughed a bit. He shook his head, which was tomato red, at himself and took a seat at the table. 

Soon, the table was filled with loads of food. Chicken, potatoes, pudding, so much! He served himself a good plate and started to eat. He felt extremely happy to be at the table.

He took out his notebook and wrote something down. He usually wrote down his emotions or tiny things he might add to novels he wanted to write. He promised himself that he would write a novel during his time at Hogwarts.

Anyway, as he ate he tried his best to talk to some of his other housemates, but he felt a bit intimidated. Even so, he still enjoyed listening to talk of clubs, exploring the castle, and how their summers were.

This would be different from what Emile was used to, but he was definitely not against it. And so he ate, and he listened for the rest of dinner.

As the famous student approached the table and the next boy stepped up to the hat, some of the focus shifted away from her. That was a relief. A few people continued to stare, but that wasn't entirely unexpected. She strode up to the Gryffindor table, determined to make a good impression. These people were going to be her housemates after all- the people she would be living among for the next seven years. Some of them would likely have heard of her already, but she tried to set that aside as she walked up to the group. She wasn't the famous Guinevere Warren here. She was just Gwen. Gwen the witch. This was her chance to make some real friends for the first time in her life, and she wasn't about to squander it.

As she approached the table though, it became clear that she may have a more difficult time than predicted. Several students fell silent as she walked up, turning to stare at the celebrity. Gwen smiled and gave a small wave before sitting down in an open seat. The girls next to her shifted away as though they were afraid to touch her. She sighed, looking sadly down at her plate. This was certainly a fantastic place. The food seemed to appear and disappear at whim, and the goblet filled itself with whatever drink she could fathom. And yet... even here she could not blend in. She was just too well-known. Gwen had never wanted to be a different person so much as she did in this moment.

"I'm Gwen!" she chimed hopefully, scanning the faces around her. They stared back silently as if to say we know. Awkward. "I... ah..." She tried again. It had been quite some time since she was last at a loss for words. There was nobody feeding her lines now. No press with probing questions. Just the silent, interrogatory eyes of her new classmates. After what felt like an eternity of fishing for something to say, a voice broke the silence.

Emile Yorke wrote: 24 Apr 2019, 16:14 “What do you call a lazy Gryffindor?” He started. Oh my god what am I doing. “We’re just lion around!” He finished. He felt so utterly stupid in that moment, but thankfully most of the table laughed a bit. He shook his head, which was tomato red, at himself and took a seat at the table. 

Gwen couldn't help but laugh at the silly joke. The rest of the table were distracted by it as well, and several chuckles could be heard nearby. The tension was broken- thank heavens! Gwen looked at the boy who had made the comment. He was red-faced an embarrassed, much the same as she had just been. She smiled gratefully. The man took out a notebook and began writing something down, though Gwen could not see what it was from her angle. He then sat silently, observing just as she was. The redhead studied him intensely, only glancing away when she felt he might look in her direction. He seemed pleasant enough, and had done well at diffusing the awkward situation. Perhaps he would be a valuable acquaintance to have. No... she had to stop thinking like that. Perhaps he would make a good friend.

She waved to get his attention. "Hey there!" she said in the most casual tone she could manage. "What're you writing?"

For a little over a minute, Emile has felt like someone was watching him. He looked up once, but if anyone was looking at him they had promptly turned their head away.

He shrugged and wrote some more down in his little note book. His hand looked like it was scribbling at the speed of light, and every now and then he would look up and listen to more of the conversations or look around, and then nod to himself and write some more. If anyone here knew his parents, he would definitely be very similar to how they had been at Hogwarts.

He was still recovering from the embarrassment from his joke. He was thinking about how extremely stupid it was, even though people laughed. Who in their right mind thinks a pun is a way to start off a conversation. Unless you’re stupid. When he said this, he was definitely talking about himself.

Thankfully, a redhead nearby brought him out of his miserable state of thinking.

“Hey there!” The voice said. He flipped his notebook in his lap and his head shot up towards her. He looked extremely caught off guard, and his face had a surprised smile on it. Man, everyone at this table must think I’m so awkward. They’re probably right. 


Emile wasn’t one who kept up with the celebrity doings or drama, and so he didn’t recognize the girl in front of him. 

“What are you writing?” She asked, in regards to him scribbling frantically in his notebook. He wasn’t really writing frantically. He just thought that was how it looked. Generally, he thought he looked pretty idiotic most of the time.

“That is a good question.” He responded. He looked at his notebook. “I’m just writing what’s happening around, how this place looks, little architectural things. Mostly the conversations of others.” He told her with a proud nod. I must sound like a stalker. Man! I’ve got to go to public speaking class or something.

“I want to be a writer!” He said suddenly. “So I’m not a stalker or something.” He said quickly. “Sorry, as you can probably tell I’m quite the awkward person.” He said with an exasperated sigh.

“I’m Emile. Emile Yorke. You are?” He asked, holding his hand out to the redhead.

The boy looked up at her nervously, and for a moment she thought this may have been a bad idea. Had she distracted him from something important? He quickly put the notebook away and began rambling about people-watching. Ah he thought, he's the observant type. That was good. What's more, he didn't appear to recognize her. Perfect! Whether he knew nothing of the Muggle world or was just oblivious in general, this gave her a chance to just be herself. This was an excellent opportunity to- well, to be honest, she wasn't sure. She'd been playing a character for so long, she wasn't sure where to start.

"My name's Gwen!" That was as good a place as any. The redhead seemed out of place amount her fellow children, sitting with perfect poise and expertly-done makeup. Should she try to imitate them? Or to impress them? "Being herself" was something she certainly wanted to do, but not something she was entirely familiar with. She just continued to speak, hoping whatever came out was acceptable. "You don't seem like a stalker, they usually have cameras, and as far as I know know they don't really care about architecture. I mean, the dark robes kinda fit but I'm in no place to judge that!" She indicated to her own student uniform, half-smiling at her own lame joke.

Yeah... that was the wrong move. All of those days she had spent training to look perfectly adorable for the cameras didn't seem to help with face-to-face interactions. She didn't have a reputation to fall back on here either. She scanned about her for help, but the other students were caught up in their own conversations.

"Um... writing sounds cool! I know some writers. They're the most important part of any production, or at least that's what father says..."

She trailed off. Where as she going with this?

"Haha, sorry! In case you couldn't tell, I'm a bit awkward myself."

“A pleasure to meet you, Gwen.” He said with a big smile. Finally! Maybe he would actually be able to make a friend. This entire dinner he had sat there writing away in his notebook, looking for a change to come into a conversation but deciding not to. He secretly thanked whatever estriol being was up in the sky for giving him the chance to get a friend. That sounded pretty sad in his head, but nevertheless he wouldn’t let the change go to waste. He was determined not to look stupid in front of this girl.

She started to talk about stalkers, and she talked about them like she had experienced being stalked before. Suddenly he noticed her posture, and her face looked absolutely perfect. Blemish-free. “I don’t want to go snooping in personal issues, but have you been stalked before? That sounded pretty real.” He raised his eyebrows. “Also, you have amazing posture. Are you a ballet dancer?” He asked with a grin. 

The most important part of a production...He thought. Maybe she really is a ballet dancer! “Yeah,” He said, coming out of his state of thought. “My dad thinks writing is the most important part of anything.” Saying dad made him feel a bit bitter, but he didn’t let that show. “In fact, he thinks it’s so important I’ve really only ever read books.” He started. “My grandparents and parents don’t think TV is the best thing for the eyes. I’ve secretly watched a bit of shows. Not any muggle ones though. I wonder what they’re like...” He said, his brows furrowing. “Oh. Sorry for rambling. Again.” He said and scratched the back of his neck nervously.

In fact, Emile was both not involved in the muggle world along with being completely oblivious to the fact that Gwen was an extremely famous celebrity. Usually, he was able to perceive things well, but he just couldn’t put his finger on why Gwen was the way she was. He was curious about this girl, and he wanted to know more. 

“Great! We can both be awkward together.” He said with a thumbs up and another grin. 

Thankfully, Emile did not seem too put off by her awkward demeanor. His friendly smile put her at ease a bit. She smiled back, grateful for the opportunity to be treated like... like a normal person. As normal as an awkward preteen with newly-discovered magic powers could expect to be treated at any rate. Gwen was happy he didn't know who she was. It was a comforting change of pace. It also made her wonder just how segregated the two worlds really were. The way he referred to her world as "Muggle shows" led her to think that this place really was a whole universe of its own. What better place to make a fresh start?

"Have you been stalked before?" the boy asked innocently. Gwen's eyes widen and she struggled for a bit with what to say. Should she spill everything? Would it change how this boy saw her? She was rather new to this whole "making friends" thing, but she assumed lying about her former life wouldn't be a good place to start. Enough people here recognized her that she would eventually find out anyway. Yeah... the truth was her best bet.

"Well, not really. Not the creepy kind anyway."(She had in fact been stalked at one point, but the security team had decided not to inform the then eight-year-old Guinevere of the threat.) "My mother has had a few though. She told me to always keep an eye out for cameras either way. You never want to be caught of guard or the magazines would have a field day! I'm... um... well, actually I'm an actress." She admitted, somewhat embarrassed. "Or I was... but now I'm a wizard! Just like everyone else here!" She desperately hoped this new information could just be glossed over.

"I've done some dancing, but it's never been my favorite. Those shoes hurt like crazy." She grinned. The offer to be awkward together was something she certainly wanted to take up. "Haha enough about my silly Muggle life though, it must have been so cool growing up in a place like this!" Gwen gestured about her to the moving cups and dancing candles. "You must have so many cool stories to write about..."

“Wait, there’s different types of stalkers?” Emile asked, tilting his head a bit. On instinct, he pulled out his notebook and wrote down a small description of what he thought could be different types of stalkers. “Sorry..give me one second...” he said, biting his lip as he wrote. “That could help with horror..” he pondered to himself. He set his pen in his book and closed it shut. “Sorry about that!” He said, hoping he hadn’t come off as rude. 

“Wow! You’re mom seems pretty cool. Kicking stalker butt am I right?!” He said, holding his hands in the air. “I apologize that was stupid.” He said shaking his head in disapproval of himself. “Anyway..” He said, clearing his throat dramatically. 

“An actress?” He echoed. That explained how perfect Gwen seemed. Posture, makeup, camera. It made sense. Emile also noticed that fairly a lot of people had been looking at her since she sat down at the table. She must be pretty famous! 

Well, he thought, that’s pretty cool I might have an actress for a friend. He nodded to himself. 

Even though he could tell that she did seem to be famous, he definitely did not want that to get in the way of her feeling uncomfortable with him. He made a mental note that he would never, ever treat her any different from how he would treat a non-celebrity. So what? She seemed to just be trying to live her best life as a wizard, and he would do his very best to respect that wish. 

“Dang, you even have done dancing? I need to exercise more.” He said with a sigh. He’d usually only exercised his eyes by reading. It wasn’t really exercise.

“Man, your life is definitely more interesting than mine. I grew up with my grandparents..that’s all that’s different about mine.” Emile didn’t want to make everything depressing by talking about his parents, so he kept it at that. 

Maybe he was just used to all the wizardry at Hogwarts since he had grown up surrounded by magic. 

“I hope I gather enough to write one novel...” He said, and he looked at his notebook, then back at Gwen. 

Gwen laughed. This was actually going a lot better than she had hoped. While Emile did seem surprised by her former life, he was taking it in stride. He was still joking and laughing as though nothing was wrong. And nothing was, she supposed. There was nothing truly wrong with ether of them. It was the way people perceived her, not anything about herself, that had made her feel uneasy. And if he was this quick to accept her, than perhaps there really was nothing wrong with her at all. She chuckled a bit at the stalker joke, and at her new friend's tendency to write things down.

"Well of course there are!" she said. "There are the creepy kind who want to kill or hurt you and stuff, but there are the kind who just want to get gossip about you or take your picture for a blog or magazine, or the kind who think meeting someone famous will solve all of their problems for some reason." She laughed, watching him scribble down her words in his notebook. At least, she assumed that was what he was writing. Perhaps it was self-centered, but she was quite used to people recording her words.

Gwen found it doubtful that he didn't have any fantastic and magical stories in his past, but she supposed everyone here did. Heck, compared to the eccentricity of growing up in the magical world, her life in the spotlight probably wasn't even all that exciting. She wanted to know more- to know everything! But she certainly didn't want to pry. Either Emile really couldn't think of anything to tell her, or it was none of her business. And she certainly didn't want to drive away the only potential friend she'd made so far by being too nosy.

She decided to stick to the topic at hand. "A novel? That's awesome! What kind of novel?"

Gwen had never had enough free time to truly take up reading, but she had always been fascinated by fictional stories. Be they in cinema or books, she was always keen to be swept away into new universes and adventures. Perhaps that was part of her fascination with this place, and why she felt so strange here. Sue, anyone would be captivated by the discovery that magic actually exists, let alone that they had the power to wield it. But Gwen couldn't help feeling like this was just another role for her to play. Another character in a fictional, fantastical world. It was still slowly sinking in that this was all... real.