Chương 13: Feast

Mathis had one of the longer sortings, but eventually joined Luna and me at the Ravenclaw table. Ginny went to Gryffindor and sat near Percy. If I wanted to continue caring about our group from the train, that would put us split 3: 2 between the two houses. I'd need to reach out to Ginny at the very least, but Colin had been annoying, without Ginny's advantage of being closely tied to the plot.

Not to the point I wished him ill, but there was a big gap between letting someone die and seeking them out for friendship. The new Ravenclaws had mostly formed into boys on one side of the table and the girls on the other. Mostly, not because anyone had chosen to break that minor taboo and sit with the opposing sex, but because some—like Ginny—had family they chose to sit with instead.

There were thirteen first-year Ravenclaws total, and of the six girls—which I was counting myself among—only a girl named Eliza had left. The rather pudgy girl barely acknowledged the rest of the first-years before slipping down the table to sit beside an older Ravenclaw boy who immediately shifted over to make room. I had decided on two main methodologies for interacting with my house in my planning sessions before today.

Either establish myself as a centrist; asserting only opinions that don't piss anyone off, or take the lead and establish myself as a neutral, stable model of behavior. There was significant overlap in both approaches, and that was intentional. No plan survived contact with the enemy, and so it was always better to have backups prepared and aim to position yourself in places with mobility should something go truly wrong. Unexpected developments happened. They were unavoidable.

Since I was in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor, taking the lead would probably mean distinguishing myself academically. I already intended to go all in on learning, so that option seemed the more advisable main focus for now. The sorting finished with, "Yarrow, Gillian," becoming a Slytherin. As McGonagall returned to her seat from where she stored the Hat, Dumbledore stood. The few conversations and murmurings that had started during the ceremony quieted.

"We have a great many announcements and reminders to go over this year," Dumbledore started solemnly.

"Information that will be important for all of our students. Young and old." He let the words sit for a second, before continuing in a much more casual tone; "But they can all wait. Let's eat." He clapped, and food appeared on the long tables from the kitchens below. A few scattered laughs and cheers sounded out. The man really had a way with speeches. The smell from the food hit me like a wave, causing my mouth to water.

Despite living in England for two years prior to my life as Lyra, I hadn't actually eaten very much local cuisine. Buying ingredients and cooking simple things for myself was easier on a college student's budget, and I hadn't exactly had friends I went out with to restaurants. Strawberry House had also gone for price over quality. This was my first time trying much of what was on offer, and it was exceptional quality. I opted to try a little bit of everything.

The only dishes I didn't enjoy had more to do with my personal preferences coming into play. Tomatoes ruined any dish they were a part of. The novelty would wear off eventually. I liked trying new things on an intellectual level, but I was a picky eater at heart. I reminded myself to become familiar with the house-elves. A lot of this food was fairly calorie-dense, and I'd like to have a say in my diet. That was secondary though.

My plans for ending elf slavery may be on hiatus until the snake idiot was dealt with, but there was still plenty of research and mutual understanding I could work towards. A more structured changeover from the current system that takes into account the elves' situation and needs was by far and away preferable to hitting everything with a hammer and hoping everything works out better for everyone in the end.

It would also make it harder for wizarding society to regress into enslaving them again if I could address the void in service workers. Hermione had her heart in the right place, but asking the slavers to free their slaves by annoying random schoolchildren whose families didn't actually own any was a wasteful time-sink. Peaceful protest alone—particularly without a concrete plan or broad support—had rarely, if ever, succeeded in ending any human rights violation.

At least the Hogwarts elves weren't in Dobby's situation, but convincing the ones who liked being enslaved to accept freedom, was going to be a chore in and of itself. I'd talk to and attempt to befriend a few of the elves. The absolute least I'd need to do was learn their names. It would be another thing on my steadily growing list, but not one I could shirk. Aside from my natural hatred of slavery, having them in my corner was bound to be useful.

They could Apparate around places warded against it, do magic that seemed to easily trump powerful wizard enchantments, or even just overhear conversations. Having them help with minor tasks alone would be useful. Maybe I could request meals without tomatoes? Or a meal service so I wouldn't have to eat around so many people? The crowd was already making me itchy. Similarly, having one or several as an enemy sounded like a nightmare. Kreacher's betrayal of Sirius was more than enough of an object lesson for me.

Dobby wasn't even trying to harm Harry and he was causing the boy a ton of headache. I watched as Snape joined the feast and spoke to Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. McGonagall hurried off, expression promising murder. Not long after, Dumbledore also packed up and left with Snape. Poor Ron and Harry. When my full intentions become clear, it would probably cause a few of them to respond very negatively.

A positive relationship may serve to buffer me from the worse of it, but every change is met with resistance. Still, ending slavery took precedence over what any group or individual wanted. I didn't want to end the institution only for the elves' sake; being part of a society that viewed slavery as a good thing was not great for wizardkind. As Dumbledore would put it; killing harmed the murderer's soul. Slavery poisoned more than its victims. It poisoned the society that accepted it.

More charismatic crazies like Voldemort were bound to be born, and raising them in a community that viewed slavery as good wouldn't end well, especially as advancements in magic or technology are made. My internal ranting carried me throughout the eating portion of dinner, and served as a good place to vent my stress over having my back to most of the hall.

I'd sat next to Luna because I knew her, but I would've preferred if we were sitting on the other side of the table instead of so close to the first-year Slytherin boys. As people slowed in eating, conversations started up. I pretended to remain focused on my food at first. Choosing to listen to, and evaluate, my peers before volunteering my own personal information. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"A demon? Really?"

"Don't worry, my eyepatch holds its dark powers at bay," Cordelia said with eager pride.

"The seven seals shan't let any leakages occur. Key word being Shouldn't."

"But… aren't you a muggle-born?" asked one of the boys.

"Sod off. Muggles have their own proper magic, you twat. You're just jealous I have royal heritage and you don't."

"Oi, you're just gobshite. You got any proof of yer shite? Proper wanker, you are." I turned away from the conversation and Cordelia's angry response. Something about the evil magic being strong enough that several secret and ancient wizards feeling the power from her demon and individually seeking her out to place their seals on her demonic eye. All with enough slang that I struggled to parse it. Cringe factory, and defensive. Got it. Avoid where possible and don't aggravate.

I'd place a thousand to one odds that the eyepatch was purely cosmetic, with normal store-bought glitter glued to it. Unless she came from a different world as well? I shook myself. No, that didn't make sense for a number of reasons. Why would she be openly talking about magic that didn't exist in the world and not bring up that it was from another world? I turned to Riley Rosewood, the girl on my left. She was currently talking past me to Luna, over on my right.

"Only my dad is a wizard. They got a divorce when I was very young. Mum didn't take the magic reveal very well. Dad lives off in the forest. Trying to grow a better wand tree, and Mum teaches at Ravenscroft Comprehensive." She had stylishly untidy, long strawberry-blonde hair—the kind of style that even I knew took forever to get right—and currently had a wild, eager look about her. Like an extrovert who had never been around so many people at once. I pegged her as particularly dangerous; in the social sense.

"That movie is awful!" laughed Mathis across the table as he spoke to Ben Carter, a verbose muggle-born from London proper.

"That's the point!" Ben replied enthusiastically. At least Mathis seemed to have settled in somewhat. I had been mildly worried about him ending up in Ravenclaw since he was forming a pretty close bond on the train with Colin.

"What about you, Lyra?" Fiona Cornhill asked from Luna's other side.

"Never knew my parents. They might have been magical but I don't know. Grew up in a children's home."

"Children's home? Is that like an orphanage?"

"No– of course not," I said sarcastically.

"Orphanages don't exist in England anymore."

"So what's the difference?" I was well-equipped to answer, as I'd researched the same question after waking from the coma and before learning about magic.

"Well, after WWII, the British government was seeing a lot of corruption in their orphanages. So they completely rid the country of them. However, they ran into a new problem: Namely, what to do with all the children who couldn't be raised by their own parents—for whatever reason—and who didn't fit well into the foster system. So they magnanimously solved that issue by creating children's homes."

"Okay, but what's the difference?"

"I just told you. The British government was getting a lot of criticism over how their orphanages were overrun with corruption, so they solved the issue. No more corruption in government-run orphanages. Then, in their infinite wisdom, they fixed another issue by generously helping those children in need of homes. Truly, problem solvers like them deserve to get re-elected." Gotta love politics.

"That doesn't tell me the difference."

"She's saying they privatized the industry," interrupted Luna. I think she was mildly annoyed at Fiona and I holding a conversation around her, like she and Riley had been doing to me.

"Now the muggle government can claim they'll never be at fault when children are abused. It's like how the Ministry blames the weather for delays– so that wizards will grow less trusting of nature and more reliant on the Daily Prophet."

"Err– I think she's just saying the politicians renamed the system so they could manipulate their popularity in the polls." Riley said, joining in on the conversation as well, and sounding a bit bemused at Luna being Luna.

"Bit of both really." I was mildly impressed. If I dismissed Luna's addition, this was much better critical thinking skills than the kids I'd been interacting with at the House.

"To be fair, they did make changes that removed some of the potential for abuse, but those changes were all relatively minor. Whatever you imagine as a 'modern orphanage', it's probably pretty close." The name was also more accurate. Not everyone at Strawberry House was an orphan, and whether or not someone was, most people didn't exactly like being referred to by a name that literally means 'your parents are dead'.

"Oh, Boo-hoo your parents are dead– who cares," came a crass boy's voice from behind. Speaking of which. We turned around and I recognized Harper, the future quidditch seeker, sitting at the Slytherin table.

"Oh? Did I interrupt all your weeping about how you failed to drown yourself in the lake?"

"You might want to think of taking a bath yourself, Harper; we can smell you from here," I replied calmly. Harper turned red. If he was that easy to taunt, he really shouldn't be bullying others.

'Turnabout is fair play', 'do unto others', and all that.

"Yeah? Well you're ugly and poor!" Definitely glad I'm not sitting at that table. The only Ravenclaw I'd found inexcusably offensive—at least so far—was Adam Branstone. A boy who'd made a truly disgusting mess while eating and half shouted everything he said, regardless of how much food was in his mouth at the time. Still, a far cry from Harper's opening lines.

"You know, most recent studies indicate bullying is a result of home issues," Riley said conversationally.

"Shut up!"

"That's not even denial!" Fiona said.

"Ooo~ How often does your dad get drunk and beat you?" There was a disturbing amount of eagerness in that question. He was about to say something in reply when Riley spoke up again.

"Well, if your face is like that because of beatings, guess I should pity you instead of tossing my dinner."

"Nah, his dad must've thought rearranging that face a bit could only improve it. His old man is innocent—the fault lies with him." Fiona again.

"You don't know anything about my Da!"

"Do you? Your actual dad I mean—I hear your mum is very friendly." I turned to stare at Fiona. I enjoyed winning arguments. I enjoyed putting bullies in their place. The results. Fiona was enjoying the process itself. Harper wasn't just losing, he was entertaining her. After a short pause—where I think Harper had to figure out what Fiona was implying—he opened his mouth again; but was interrupted again, by Riley this time.

"Fiona. Watch what you say. The poor boy has brain damage. He won't be able to follow the conversation if you use big words like ' innocent'or' friendly'." Well, okay then. I guess all the girls here are a bit sadistic. Luna wasn't joining in; she could be our moral center. I spotted the doors to the Great Hall opening. McGonagall. She had been up and down all evening, dealing with some aspects related to Ron and Harry breaking the law.

I lightly kicked a few legs and indicated the direction with subtle head and eye movements. Fiona's smile, which had been growing with every exchange turned positively predatory as she tapped my leg back in acknowledgement.

"Oh look, he's getting all defensive of his mum~ It'd be cute, but maybe he's just jealous of her nightly partners." Harper snapped. Standing in a fury. Honestly, I was a bit disappointed in his attempt at bullying; Malfoy was eloquent and somewhat clever. Harper was coming across as more of a Crabbe or Goyle; all dumb brute energy, except without the size to back it up.

"Yeah? I'll show you a beating," he said way too loudly, afraid of being cut off again.

"You know nothing! I'll show all you what a true wizard is you stupid mudbloods, I-""Harper!" Professor McGonagall snapped.

"It's not even the first day of classes and you're already threatening other students? Five points from Slytherin and take a detention." The other Slytherins—including a few older third- and fourth-years who'd been watching but leaving him to flounder against our united front—turned on Harper like sharks scenting blood. An initiation test. The older boys wanted him to prove himself. I looked like the easiest target: small and still damp from the lake. I was even more glad not to be in Slytherin now.

Hazing rituals were stupid. I'd feel bad for Harper, but if I was right, he was probably given options by the older students. Choosing to immediately attack a girl with no parents was on him. Doing so while she was surrounded by people likely to ally with her was the kind of tactical mistake that just served to bury any compassion I might've felt. I'd have to keep track of Slytherin's internal politics. This wouldn't be the last time someone targeted me; I had too many apparent vulnerabilities.

A better response than trading insults was necessary. Then again... perhaps keeping their attention on me wasn't entirely a bad thing. I could distinctly remember that Luna was severely bullied. It got to the point that she thought of the trio as some of her closest friends despite almost never interacting with them. The only person in her year she considered a friend was Ginny, and that wasn't until the DA meetings in the fifth book.

After having spent most of a day in her company, I could see why people might target her. She was openly strange, and completely inept at understanding social cues. I could handle the Slytherins. She couldn't. Fiona was another matter. That joy I saw in her was worrying. I'd have to watch her as well, but I didn't miss she only really went for Harper's throat in my defense.

"Thanks," I said to the group, turning away from the spectacle happening at the next table. Riley shrugged.

"It's what friends are for." I paused, keeping my face neutral. Were we friends? After a single meal together and wearing a talking hat? If friendship had levels, we had a long way to go for the kind of connection I was looking for, but it was a start.