𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⟶ 𝑻𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆

CHAPTER FOUR

4 | the welcoming feast

𝟷 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟺

THE FOUR LONG House tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly to one another, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes.

Hermione, Harry and Ron stood among the chaos, surrounded by a large number of small first-years who began to whisper with each other, looking at them curiously. A small, terrified boy was looking at Ron, probably wondering if Ron was a half-giant judging by how tall he was. Ron grinned at him, wiggling his brows. "Nervous midget?"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, whacking him on the chest. "You can't call first-years midgets!"

"But they are! Look at them...they're titchy..."

"I know that but you can't call them midgets."

Hermione turned to Harry and reached a hand towards his messy hair, trying to fix it in an attempt to cover the lightning bolt scar. Harry smiled because he knew that Hermione knew he didn't want to be questioned by people about the damn scar that had marked his life. As she was about to enter the Great Hall someone had bumped into her. It was a girl with straggly, waist-length, sunshine-yellow hair, very pale eyebrows, and soft blue eyes.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry—I'm such a klutz—" the girl started apologising.

"Luna?" said Hermione, staring at the girl.

It had the girl freezing in place. She goggled at Hermione. "What?"

Hermione shook her head. "Sorry...but you just looked like someone I knew."

Harry and Ron were also staring at the girl, looking completely dumbfounded. The girl tilted her head to the side like a bird. There was a glint in her eyes but it was gone before Hermione could tell what it was.

"Well," said the girl as a slow smile broke across her face. "You aren't entirely wrong. My middle name is actually Luna."

Harry made a sound from the back of his throat. "Really—?"

The girl beamed and thrust her hand out. "I'm Claire Hawthorne. It's nice to meet you."

Hermione shook her hand. "My name's Hermione and this is Harry and Ron. We're—"

"The new students! I know. I overheard Professor Dumbledore talking to Professor Merrythought." Claire slapped a hand over her mouth, looking over Hermione's shoulder.

Just then Professor Dumbledore appeared by their side, a scroll in his hands, eyes twinkling. "Making friends already I see." He smiled at them and looked straight at Claire who was avoiding his gaze. "But I must insist you to take your seat now, Miss Hawthorne, as the sorting will begin any moment now."

"Oh, yes—of course, sir." Claire's cheeks now tinged with pink. "Talk to you later then."

Claire drifted away from them and towards the Ravenclaw table. Dumbledore gave them a sharp nod and entered the Great Hall. Harry stared at Dumbledore as he walked in, the long line of scared first-years following behind the man. Whatever his recent bitter feelings towards the man this morning, Harry was somehow soothed by the knowledge that Dumbledore was indeed helping them in their task.

The golden trio trailed behind the first-years, trying their best to ignore the mixed looks thrown at them—confusion, curiosity and scepticism. The hall started to buzz with whispers like hissing fires.