The smells of a fantastic dinner permeated the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The sound of children’s voices was almost overbearing in the confined space, made more resonant with the increased population. Hogwarts had rarely seen such a high populace and the hall was crowded, almost uncomfortably so. For the first years, this would be the norm, but for everyone else, the amassed masses were an anomaly. The TetraWizard Tournament was an extraordinarily new concept, a first in fact, and one that brought a smile to the weathered faces of many a staff lined along the head of the room.

By this point in the year, most of the student (and indeed – staff) inhabitants of Hogwarts were well used to the odd additions to the usual fanciful feast: roast turkeys accompanied by bredela[1], the roast beef paired with the lutefisk[2], and one simply couldn’t forget the gumbo[3], a favorite of Headmistress McGonagall. The veteran headmistress tilted her head to the left, then to the right, as she took in the familiar sights and smells of a castle full of students. Though her stern features would never show it, Minerva truly missed the students when they were away for break. An empty castle was lonely, and there simply weren’t enough editions of Witch Weekly to fill the hours.

The hall was bedecked in a myriad of colors, representing the different cultures found within the walls. Gone were the Christmas trees, and back in their place were the usual decorations of the hall. The paintings that retired Headmaster Reid had had installed still surrounded the walls and the spectral forms of the Hogwarts ghosts levitated through the crowd. As the last bit of sunlight faded from the high windows, the candles floating high above sputtered to life. When most of the amassed crowd had found their seats, the Hogwarts Head stood from the ancient high-backed chair and waited for the hall to quiet down.

“Welcome back to Hogwarts,” Said the witch, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “As I’m sure you’ve gathered, we’ve a few announcements before you turn in for the evening, but for now: dig in,” Though Minerva lacked the dramatics favored by her predecessor and friend, Albus Dumbledore, she couldn’t help but clap her hands together as the coverings lifted from the dishes and the pewter goblets filled with pumpkin juice. A twinkle filled her eyes as she sat back in her chair to enjoy her own steaming bowl of cock-a-leekie soup[4].

1.	Wikipedia
2.	Wikipedia
3.	Wikipedia
4.	Wikipedia

Gale was beyond pleased to be back. He would miss his boyfriend dearly, but was very happy to have the students all there and accounted for. Of course he had worried, thought about a few of them often, and even tried his best to pick up on little rumors of the few that he was close to just to make sure they were doing alright. The holiday had gone by very slowly, or so he felt, and despite his rather hectic end to the very wild weeks that followed in behind Christmas--he seemed to be holding together well.

He wasn't wearing anything out of his normal, a long billowy top over skinny brown riding pants with boots that nearly met his thighs,[1] and of course a sprinkling of vintage gold around his neck, wrists and ears--tame for his standards, but he still wasn't in his formal robes. In truth he'd simply been so excited to see the students that he hadn't thought about it, and made his way on the outskirts of the room simply going over mental checklist of a few of his favorites.

"They survived," He said with a smile taking his place at the staff table, and looked over to Minerva with a bright eager face, "Seem to all be here. All happy. Eager to be back." He was pleased, and stirred his own soup (sans meat of course) and broke his bread to start soaking the broth.

1.	Polyvore Set

Hooch had arrived only moments before the Headmistress and her old friend Minerva McGonagal introduced the feast.  The nonagenarian witch's face was still ruddy from the cold air outside, and her flying goggles were sat atop her head.  In the same manner she'd done for ages, she'd flown in by broom from her home in Edinburgh.  She hadn't too much business at the castle this early in the week.  Remedial Flying wouldn't start until next and new Quidditch didn't begin until later in the month.

But she always few in special for start of term feasts.  It was a hot meal in the best of company!

It was very crowded in the Great Hall these days, but the space always found a way to fit in just one more when it was needed.   

"Pass the potatoes!" she called down the way towards some colleagues.  There was nothing like steaming, garlicy, smashed potatoes to warm one up from inside.  "And the wine, please!" 

That too.

Lucas was actually happy to be back at school. His undershirt wasn't tucked in, but he was still in uniform. He looked around at everyone as he walked in and made his way to the Ravenclaw table. He couldn't wait to see everyone again. He missed his friends and had spent the whole break coming up with new ideas on how to prank his peers. He even thought about trying for a professor this semester. He came in excited and ready to share his latest ideas with his partners in crime.

He sat down at the table, still a bit in awe of the great hall. Sure he came from a magical family, but in some ways he still couldn't believe he was actually here. He sort of liked being at home with his family, but with his mother's mood swings, he felt more at home and more relaxed here. He was able to do more and feel more free than he did at home. There, he felt like he needed to walk on eggshells most of the time. Here, he was with friends and people he cared about and people who cared about him. He didn't realize exactly how much Hogwarts had become home to him until he was gone for the break. All he could do was smile.

With scraggly white hair curling off in whatever direction it chose, Deaglan stared out at the sea of young faces.  Never in all his years did the old wandmaker think he'd be looking across the Hogwarts Great Hall, again - especially not viewing it from this particular vantage point.  As a student, the staff table had always possessed a certain forbidden mysticism.  Always there, above everything else.   But, here he was seated at it.  Professor.  Head of House.  During a Tournament year, at that! 

A spread of food, like none Deaglan had seen in quite some time, was laid out in front of them.  Snagging a small scoop of potatoes before the plate traveled on to Xiomara, Deaglan turned to the professor next to him.

"I'd just about forgotten what Hogwarts feasts were like," he confessed, adding a slice of roast to his plate.  After decades on the road, the older man had grown accustomed to a much more humble diet.  Even after a week of settling in at the school, Deaglan was still getting used to the impressive array at most meals. 

Deaglan's gaze slid over towards the table lining the far side of the Great Hall where a sea of crimson robes were huddled around.  Gryffindor House.  His alma mater.  They were certainly a motley looking crew. 

Late! She was late! She had fallen asleep and none of her dorm mates thought it normal to wake her up for the feast. She entered the Great Hall angrily, pushing against the heavy door with a vengeance, looking like a black fury in her mourning dress - six inches deep in mud, her long silver locks - a mess of lusterless disheveled curls, her eyes - red and raw—and she could not be bothered to care about any of it. Or any of them! She had been dragged here against her wishes by a gorilla with a wand and she was determined to let everyone know her sorrow and bitterness.

"I've had it with you, young lady! Do as you please! Sleep on her grave like some—some lunatic! Wail your throat raw! Get yourself sick for all I care, but if you're not at King's Cross tomorrow, I will send out for someone to take you back to the school. Whether you want to or not" Miss Richards had shouted at her after the first night she spent curled up on her sister's memorial angel statue. And the woman had the nerve to actually keep to her word! Earlier today, a brute of a wizard came and ripped her away from her sister's resting place, mumbling a "Sorry, Miss." He had practically kidnapped her and delivered her under lock and wand all the way to Hogsmeade—while still in her muddied boots and funeral attire. And then she had fallen asleep while staring at the ceiling of her four poster bed. She'd not be doing anymore sleep after that experience. She woke up screaming, and she was happy nobody was there to see the horror and despair in her voice and eyes.

She sat down with a thump next to an older girl - a pretty brunette she'd seen around the Common Room but didn't know the name of - scowled at her goblet and immediately vanished the horrible liquid in it.  She took her gloves off while muttering and pulling at them vigorously, before finally slapping them down on the table, next to her plate. The sight of food made her ill. When was the last time she had eaten?

At least the hated pumpkin juice, the flurry of her arrival and the entire agitation of the Hall were a welcome distraction. She feared the moment she would have the time to process it all.

A cold wind carried over the room, or at least he felt a shadow enter. With a look around the room he caught sight of Amara, and though her normal gothic attire wasn't very far fetched--the dress she wore wasn't of her normal. He wished he could shake from her this desire to always wear dark things, but with that thought pressed from his mind she seemed different--stressed, heartbroken, and exhausted.

"Excuse me," He spoke to those beside him, bumping Hooch's chair without thinking, and mumbled a distracted apology. From the staff table he crossed the room slowly, pretending to be interested in all of the students as he passed, and there were some of them he was eager to say hello to again. However, Gale knew where he had to start, and worried greatly the closer he got.

"Miss Báthory," He spoke softly from behind her, bending a little so that she could better hear him as he used soft, quiet words. Her title was always spoken with such respect, but when he nearly whispered it his accent came out in full force. "Can I get you something to eat?" Of course, his biggest concern was feed her, one couldn't function without a full stomach, and she simply didn't look herself.

Leyla was a small, quiet face underneath her hat.

Hogwarts was louder than she remembered, and busier, though months of sitting alone at a cauldron might have warped her perceptions. Still she could feel the cheer that pervaded the air, a glow of warmth that recognized the dark haired witch as easily as she placed it. This was coming home.

A close voice startled Leyla from her bowl of broth. "I'd just about forgotten what Hogwarts feasts were like," commented the elder wizard sat next to her; Deaglan McDonough, their new professor of Herbology. Of course they had been placed together at the table, being the faculty's latest additions.

"I know," she echoed the sentiment with a mellow smile. "It's richer than I remember." Her diet had never recovered from Iran, a steady intake of soups and stews and plain breads with meat. Leyla coloured. "Not that I'm complaining." Food at Hogwarts was the heartiest.

One of the other staff members - a pale man - jostled past towards the student tables and she pulled her chair in closer. Well. Some things never changes. The professors still cared.

Figaro came into the Great Hall with his tie in a knot and looking like he'd seen a ghost.  Something worse yet.  He'd seen Professor O Morain outside.  And he was back.  For good.  He walked as a ghost to the table of Hufflepuffs.  Look at them.  So happy.  So cheerful.  Didn't they know.  Didn't they know.  He wished he was them.  He wished he could unsee the truth and go on with a merry, lively life for the next two days. 

But O Morain was back and there was nothing to be done of it.  He took a seat furthest to the back and started dishing himself up a plate of roasted red peppers and bread rolls and cottage cheese. 

In his pocket was still a little pouch full of billywig stings, but he still had kind of a headrush from the trainride in.  No use digging into that just now.  Besides, he was starving.

Frank had been looking for his brother since the train arrived at Hogsmeade station.  But even when the feast had begun, he'd been no where to be seen among the Hufflepuffs!  He was supposed to be at the feast! Those were the rules! And Figaro had his stuff!  The youngest Sellaphix slumped in his seat and had began to tuck into the food with his Ravenclaw friends when someone got his attention.

"There he is, Frank."

Frank slipped out of his seat and trotted quickly down the long aisle to the back end of Ravenclaw table and looped around to crouch next to Figaro.  They weren't supposed to get up from their seats too much at dinner, but he needed to speak with Figaro.

"Fig, do you have my books?  I need 'em for tonight."

Figaro turned towards his younger brother with an annoyed look.  So young.  So pesky.  So blissfully unaware of the monster that lurked in the Care of Magical Creatures classroom.  "In my commonroom."

"You said you'd bring them to the feast!" Frank insisted.

"I forgot.  It's fine, I'll get them to you later."

Frank let his forehead bump the edge of the table with a groan.  "Fiiiiiiiiiig, I need them."

Rolling his eyes, Figaro pushed Frank's head off the table.  "No you don't.  You haven't got any homework.  You're a firstie.  Go back to your seat."

Frank slapped Fig's hand away and hissed at him through gritted teeth.  "Figaro, we are doing a study circle tonight and I need my Astronomy charts."

"Do you have any idea how nerdy you sound? Merlin's pants, Francis, we can get it after."

"Don't call me that!"  Frank was mortified.  He'd told Figaro a thousand times he hated being called that! So far no one at Hogwarts was and he wanted to keep it that way.  "There won't be time!"

Glad he got the reaction he wanted, little Francis having a fit, Figaro smiled.  "There will.  Now bugger off, Francis."

"AUGH."  Frank stood, glowering at his big brother and then stomped away back to Ravenclaw to sit back down with a harumph.

Pax watched curiously as Professor Kesali strode past, towards one of the Slytherin girls. He started to wonder what the matter could be, but then remembered that staring was rude and turned his gaze back to what he had been focused on pretty much ever since he sat down. He didn't know what had happened to Amara Bathory over the winter break, so there was no way for him to be aware of the irony of looking down at little album of photographs of his new baby sister. He sighed as baby Primrose, along with his four-year-old sister, gazed out at him from the photo the album was currently open to. It hadn't even been a day since he's seen Primrose, and already he missed her so much. When Poppy had been born, Pax had been around full-time to play with her and watch her grow up. Much as he adored Hogwarts, it did keep him away from doing the same for his newest sister.

No use dwelling though, especially when his stomach was rumbling. He tucked the little album back into his inside pocket and started scanning the table for vegetarian dishes so he could tuck in. But what ended up catching his attention was Figaro Sellaphix. The older Hufflepuff had a healthy plateful of food but looked somehow ill. 'Fig?' Pax frowned and swung off the bench to move down to where Figaro was seated, reaching him as his little brother was storming off. Pax squeezed in next to him and prodded him lightly in the shoulder to get his attention. Before the appearance of Frank, the sixth-year had seemed to have some kind of thousand-yard-stare thing going on. 'Fig, what's up?'

Another feast.  Another term.  Another round of long class days.  At least, having finished his GCSE exams, Sasha didn't have quite as much hanging over his head.  He still had a full schedule of NEWTs and he would need to start turning his attention towards A-Levels but it wouldn't have anywhere near the same level of intensity. 

Now, he just had to wait anxiously for the rest of his midterm scores and his GCSE results. 

Sasha had been picking, distractedly, at his plate of carrots and potatoes when one of the first year Ravenclaws, Figaro's younger brother, plopped himself on the bench across from him looking none too pleased.  The sixth year looked up from his plate and across at Frank. 

"Everything alright?" he asked, sliding a serving platter of drumsticks closer to the lad. 

The seat beside Sasha was open. Oh happy day! Sophia who had been standing close to Frank heard a good deal of the exchange between brothers would have happily offered her books if it wasn't for the distraction of getting to Schlagenweit's seat before anyone else did.

"Frank, you can borrow mine if it would please you?" She offered the boy with a smile, rather fond of that Frank. With one of her little chicks found, the mother hen in her looked down the table to make sure her ducks were in their row, but she only found Lucas. Offering the pale boy a wiggle of her fingers she scooted closer to Sasha.

"Good Evening, Sasha, I hope you had a good break." She started to open her mouth about what Abby had said about Professor Storm. He'd been in an apron! An apron! But she feared that would throw the conversation towards Abby, and now we couldn't have that could we?

Nancy was so glad all of her litle Puffles were back in the castle again. It had been rather difficult finding sokething to do over the holiday. When one cannot physically hold or touch objects, finding things to do is sometimes a challenge. She floated around the hall, greeting students and faculty. Nance made her way over the Hufflpeuff table, nodding and waving to the kids she adored.

She came right up to the faculty table and greeted the new Professors. She got the best news on new arrivals at the castle, being a ghost, one can fit through walls and eavesdrop quite easily. "Hello Professor Naceri, Good evening Professor McDonough, my name is Nancy, I am so very pleased you've joined our staff, enjoying the feast?"

When Nancy was alive, Hogwarts meals were the best she ever ate, but her favorite was the fig pudding around Christmas time, the chicken wasn't half bad either...

Frank's head snapped up when Sasha Schlagenweit spoke to him.  Sasha was the best student in Ravenclaw and even did muggle homework on top of his Hogwarts schoolwork when he didn't even have to.  He was kind of a legend among the younger years and even though Frank knew that Figaro and Sasha were friends, Frank was still a little in awe of him.  (How a stupid git like Fig was friends with Sasha, Frank couldn't figure out.)

And Sophia was being nice - like an actual human being? Maybe there was something in the food.

"Thanks," he said to Sophia. 

Then to them both: "Stupid Fig didn't bring my stuff for Astronomy circle like he said he would," he explained, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.  "He's a git."

He didn't really want to borrow Sophia's charts.  It wouldn't be the same as his charts which he'd made some notes on and even drew little pictures to help him remember the constellations and names of the stars.  But it would be better than nothing.