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THE NEXT MORNING, Este, Pansy, and Daphne all woke up around the same time, with Este being the first, Daphne at a close second, then it was Pansy. They all finished getting ready and left their dorm room to find the boys all sprawled around the couches, waiting for them. Este walked with Atlas on one arm and Draco on the other──they were the closest in the group. The cousins. The big 3, Mattheo often joked. The imperial trio, Theodore jested. It didn't matter what nickname they had, Draco, Atlas, and Este were like three peas in a pod. Of course, Este and Draco fought a lot──and sometimes, their teases went a little overboard──and if it weren't for Atlas, Este and Draco might've murdered one another──but at the end of the day, Este could take a killing curse for Draco and he would do the same.
They followed the Hufflepuffs into the Great Hall, looking instinctively at the staff table as they entered. The enchanted ceiling above them echoed Este's mood; it was a miserable rain-cloud grey. "Oi listen up you little shits!" Atlas yelled, drawing everyone's attention to him, "Tryouts are on Thursday at five o'clock and the whole team will be there. Then we can see how the new person will fit in. If you think you won't make it. Don't bother coming, alright?" There was a collective nod, and the group of friends made their way to the end of the table, Atlas occupying the middle seat at the end of the table with Este and Draco on either side. "I need to beat Gryffindor this year," Atlas told them blankly, "It won't hurt to have new blood on the team."
With a whoosh and a clatter, hundreds of owls came soaring in through the upper windows. They descended all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it was clearly raining hard outside. Royal, her owl, was nowhere to be seen, but Este was hardly surprised; her only correspondent was Narcissa, and she doubted Narcissa would have anything new to tell her after only twenty-four hours apart.
Professor Snape was now moving along the table handing out schedules. "Look at today!" groaned Mattheo. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts . . . Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day!"
"Divination is a pathetic subject," Atlas deadpanned, "Loads of random guessing and lying."
"That's the beauty of it," Este said, "I won't have to try hard. I'll just have to tell that Trelawny woman about my upcoming doom."
History of Magic was by common consent the most boring subject ever devised by Wizard-kind. Professor Binns, their ghost teacher, had a wheezy, droning voice that was almost guaranteed to cause severe drowsiness within ten minutes, five in warm weather. He never varied the form of their lessons, but lectured them without pausing while they took notes, or rather, gazed sleepily into space. Theodore, Blaise, and Mattheo had so far managed to scrape passes in this subject only by copying Atlas's notes before exams; he alone seemed able to resist the soporific power of Binns's voice. Este had bought herself an enchanted peacock feather quill that helped her write her notes down for her, and so she never really paid any attention in class.
