16 December 2011
Friday at 6pm
The last dinner before the train leaves in the morning

The last dinner before the end of the fall lacked the urgency and excitement of the spring feast. The meal offerings included a few traditional Christmas favorites and more and more often there were Hanukkah treats on the tables. The halls were positively decked with big bushy decorated pine trees and floating orbs of warm light accompanied the usual floating candles. The Headmaster had traded in his usual cap for a red one with a white tassel - and he felt very smart indeed; he had the figure perfectly suited to Old Saint Nick but he'd not be convinced to color is black salt-and-pepper beard.

The mood then in this pomp-lacking close-of-year was subdued anticipation, many of the students breathing sighs of relief now that mid-term exams were done. Others were forlorn for staying behind for the holidays, others dreading their academic results being owled home.

The Headmaster, he'd be away from the castle for most of the vacation seeing to Wizengamot duties and recharging in the peace and quiet of his stone cottage in Kent. Hogwarts had again become his home, but the bustling halls took their toll.

Hanging over this particular dinner was the state of the world outside, the changes and dangers that awaited the young wix when they were released from school. It bore comment, and as the dinner wound down and bellies were getting full, Knox stood at his place. He needed no wand or spell to be heard.

"Good evening, scholars and scalliwags. Any attention you'll care to spare would be appreciated and may yet save your life," he boomed with a smile.

One more night and Contessa would be off on her way back home to see her parents in the flesh after what felt like years without them. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited and though Contessa was no stranger to the frequent occasional lie, now was not one of those times. It was plain to see that she couldn't wait, from the even brighter than usual grin pulling at her lips to the animated hand gestures that accompanied her words.

"Mother and father will be hosting their usual christmas ball of course, they promised me they'd get the weird sisters and Vanessa Carson to play. You know I think I shall miss Hogwarts. Not as much as I miss the manor though, I miss the beaches. Mother and father... less so. Just kidding, just kidding!"

A light hearted laugh bubbled from her lips, drawing similar sounds from those who sat around her.

"Do write, all of you. If you have time you ought visit as well, the manor is beautiful at winter. If it doesn't snow mother likes to make it do so in the ballroom so I can make snow angels."

Contessa glanced up when the sound of the headmaster came from the front of the hall. She tilted her head, a faintly amused smile pulling at her lips.

"That sounds like a death threat," Contessa hummed to nobody in particular with a mischievous look to her pale face, voice low as the headmaster talked. "Next thing you know Greyfriar's gonna spike our pumpkin juice."

Zeta was being rowdy, exploding with excitement to head back home for Christmas to spend time with her sister and the rest of her family. She had loads of plans like getting a tattoo going out to party, late nights in front of the fire, shopping in the best London shops...! And most of all, just getting away from the stress of classes. She was dreading what would happen when the owl bearing her bad marks arrived to her parents. But for now, she was laughing and carrying on with her friends at Hufflepuff table.

Hers was one of the last voices to quiet down when the Headmaster called for quiet. Zeta turned in her seat to see better. "He does have a flair for the dramatic," she whispered.

Sulwen sulked a few seats away from Contessa who was holding court. She picked at the tablecloth, listening to her peers discuss snow angels and ballrooms and professional singers.

The house Sulwen would return to was lovely and elegant but mostly empty. She couldn't imagine inviting her new friends over, especially not in a group. Her sister was bound to interrupt and ruin things, and her mother wouldn't appreciate the commotion.

At Knox's voice, she turned in her seat and paid full attention. She didn't greatly like or dislike the Headmaster, but she respected him much more than she had at the beginning of the term. Despite his werewolf condition, he saved a smile for them in classes and asked after his students in the halls. Despite his dramatic choice of words, he prevented a lot of student drama.

Sulwen narrowed her eyes at Contessa's comment and took a slow, calm sip of her pumpkin juice. She arched her brow at her, then focused again on the Headmaster.

Meanwhile, Wes sat near Zeta at the Hufflepuff table, fidgeting with his silverware on the table. He bounced his leg, catching bits of conversation around him, chiming in only to get distracted a second later, and guffawing at a kid who stuck too many sweets in his mouth.

He quieted for a moment as the Headmaster spoke, the man's kindly voice booming in the hall.

Scalliwags! Wes turned in his seat to grin at the Slytherin table, looking for Elaine.

Which reminded him of a snippet of conversation he'd overheard earlier.

"Hey! Pssst hey! Contessa!" Wesley whispered, leaning so far back in his seat that he would have fallen over if not for one of the older students catching his legs.

"When's the party?" He said too loudly, totally sure he was invited.

Contessa raised an eyebrow back at Sulwen, a cheeky glint to her eyes. "Something wrong Reid? Lighten up you wet blanket, can't you take a joke?" Her tone was cheery and friendly, but that was far from Connie's intentions of course. She didn't like Sulwen, not really. Sometimes the girl could be alright at times, but she was always so haughty and disapproving. Some of the other first years found Sulwen a bit intimidating, at least that was what Contessa had heard. She couldn't see why, but then again Contessa didn't let anyone intimidate her.

Next came the call of Wesley. Contessa bit back laughter, Wesley hadn't quite mastered the art of subtlety and here that was very obvious. Wesley she liked more than she did Sulwen, he was a good laugh. She never understood how he could spend so much time doing nothing, Tessa always had to be doing something, and he was so gullible, but he was also good fun.

"Ever heard of whispering?" Contessa whisper shouted back, grinning. "It's a christmas ball Wes, so July. You'd better come!"

Someone at Hufflepuff hadn't gotten the Headmaster's message; Zeta turned to find Wesley Wold in conversation with a Slytherin girl two tables away. He was nearly falling out of his seat. Zeta rolled her eyes.

"Shut! Up! Wesley!" she hissed, and smacked at him over the table. "Do you want to die, child?"

Zeta's call for quiet prompted others to call for her quiet and there was a cascade of unhelpful shushing as everyone decided they were a prefect for the day. Others just seemed to join in for pure love of sibilance.

All up and down the hall, the familiar mishmash of chatter, clinking plates and shuffling bodies hit all the familiar notes of a Hogwarts holiday feast.  Though the Gryffindor was usually quick to join the energy of mealtime chaos, for once Mairead was generally withdrawn and subdued.  She'd ignored the excited chatter of her neighbors and tried not to think about the week of exams she'd just completed or tomorrow's train ride back to London.

Mairead had never, actually, worried much about exams or grades before and if it weren't for the hope of being officially named quidditch team captain, she wouldn't have worried about them now.  But, she loved quidditch and maintaining decent grades was the price of being awarded the title.  She should have known from the beginning that wanting and trying to do better didn't automatically translate into better marks.  If she had, she might not have gotten her hopes up that high and she wouldn't have been waiting for those marks with a sense of dread and inevitable disappointment. 

It was enough to make one wonder whether there was any point to coming back at the end of the holidays, if her marks weren't high enough despite her best effort. 

The headmaster got to his feet, signaling the transition from meal to announcements; in short order, the remnants of dinner would disappear and be replaced with clean plates.  Half listening to Professor Greyfriar's initial comments, Mairead pulled the small cloth bag she'd tucked into her pocket and began plucking pieces of leftovers that were both easy-to-pack and likely to last a couple days without spoiling from the serving dishes.  The bits of food were carefully wrapped into napkins and placed in the bag.  She would do the same tomorrow at breakfast and, hopefully, by then would have enough food stashed away to tide her over a couple days when she got back to London. 

Elaine beamed as Contessa spoke of the upcoming holidays and nodded in complete agreement, recognizing her fellow Slytherin's tone with it's three parts genuine excitement and one part showing off.  That's what balls were for, after all: having fun, dancing, eating good food and doing everything you could to show up in holiday dress robes that were just a cut above everyone else's. 

Not enough to be annoying.  Just enough to show you knew what you were doing. 

Which meant that writing and visiting would likely be a given because you couldn't play the game otherwise. 

"We very rarely get snow along the coast.  It would be funny to see it snowing indoor!"  She would have to recommend that to her mother.  "We usually sail down to the Canary Islands or Greece for the Christmas holidays but there may not be enough time for that this year.  But, if you're near a beach, we could always sail up to visit!" 

Elaine turned her attention properly to the Headmaster when he got to his feet, only diverting her attention the hiss a shhh in Wesley's direction.  The Hufflepuff should really know better! 

"Greyfriar won't spike our pumpkin juice," Elaine corrected in full confidence.  "I think it's a warning.  Things have been happening.  Serious things, but my da won't say what."  All Elaine really knew was what her mum had told her: that her da had taken on a number of new sailors which meant they were worried about trouble. 

Elaine glanced past Contessa towards Sulwen.  "Oh let her be," she told Contessa.  It wasn't hard to see her two fellow Slytherins weren't the best of friends but Elaine liked to think she was everyone's friend.  That's how one became prefect one day.

Seated near Zeta Ayla had nodded along with her dormmate's exuberance but hadn't joined in. In between bites of food, her head had been deep in her notebook writing out a supply sheet. Where everyone else was set to go home and relax for the holidays Ayla was ramping herself up to get some serious work done. She only had a few days before the Winter Festival began in Hogsmeade and she needed to straighten away everything she needed to run her booth. She had already received several preorders from a fair share of regulars, not to mention she had some new ideas she wanted to try out.

She only looked up when a round of shushing was directed at little Wesley. She hadn't even noticed that Greyfriar had been demanding their attention.

Ayla tucked a turquoise lock behind her ear and put down her quill. She had declined Prefect duties again this year having found the responsibility too much the previous year but she was still Quidditch Captain, a seat of responsibility. It wouldn't do well to ignore the Headmaster, no matter how much she wanted to get back to her work.

She looked across to Wesley, "quiet now. The adults want to talk." She gave him a wink ignoring the passing thought that she was considered an adult now too - at least as far as Wizarding Law was concerned - having turned Seventeen only a few weeks before.

Harri dug into the end of term feast whole hog. It would be the last big meal she's be able to enjoy until she returned to the castle. Her father was on a health kick lately. With Harri away at school for most of the year, Dudley had gotten back into boxing, which meant meals at home were often rather bland. Even with the holidays coming up. She used to be able to depend on Grandma Petunia and Great Aunt Marge to spoil her but since discovering she was a Wizard she saw her father's family less and less. Her mother's family on the other hand were all hippies and always ate weird healthy stuff.

As the Headmaster called for quiet, Harri leaned back to get a better view past some of the larger students. She had no real connection to the wider wizarding world outside of Hogwarts and was curious as to what Greyfriar could say that could help save her life.

Aoide Shacklebolt’s bright eyes bore shadows beneath them. Her first term at Hogwarts had been involved, what with meeting so many new people, learning so much and surviving the weird quirks of the castle. Well, maybe not so much of the last one, she had got stuck in a step only the day before to her embarrassment.

Everything was new at Hogwarts, really, even this end of term dinner, knowing tomorrow the train would take her back to London and her Mum or even better, her Dad, might pick her up from Kings Cross and take her home to Godric’s Hollow. She looked forward to sleeping in her own bed, to seeing her older half-sister Ariadne at some point, her younger friends in the village and of course the expectation of Christmas presents.

“… and scalliwags…” Aoide giggled at the expression, wriggling in her place on the Hufflepuff bench to see what the Headmaster was doing. “… may yet save your life.” Aoide had been about to exclaim ‘he can’t be serious?’ but older Hufflepuff, Zeta Pepper, had hissed at Wesley.
“… do you want to die, child?”
“Quiet now, the adults want to talk.”

Aoide knew Zeta was a caring and hilarious sort, but her expression and the shushing of others that followed led her to perceive that the Headmaster was not joking. However, Ayla’s wink suggested otherwise. Who to believe!

“I don’t want to die!” Aoide whispered, clutching her seasonal napkin tightly in her hands.

As was customary, Greyfriar’s address to a rowdy end-of-term dinner was met with some attention and then massed shushing from the assembled students. They were, in reality, keen to hear what he said.

If the Slytherin table had been busy discussing plans of sailing to Greece, balls and other luxury, the Ravenclaw table had instead been discussing the finer points of Christmas decoration transfiguration. No, even Ravenclaws took a night off sometimes, even if Tim had considered staying on over Christmas to get ahead on next term’s OWL studies. He doubted his father and new step-mother would have forgiven him for missing his new baby sister’s first Christmas, and someone had to wind Ambrose up about what he was missing now he had opted out of Hogwarts…

Maybe he’d be lucky and get an invite to see friends, or agree a few friends over to their new home in Wiltshire. Tim’s new step-mother was Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and had more than enough space, she admitted.

“Anyone else feel like they’re in a Defence lesson?” Tim muttered wryly.

Cole was sat beside Feliks as she was found during most meals. The pair having become close over the last few months, especially given their own little "run in" with the Headmaster. She had listened politely to Contessa gloating about her holiday plans. Had this been even a year previous she may have joined in. As it was, her own holidays plans were rather up in the air. She had no idea if the grand Wentworth Tradition of a Christmas Ball was going to continue now that Arathorn was dead and Xavier owned the Ancestral Manor. She wondered if her dark broody older cousin had any inclinations to hosting such a Festive Event.

Cole glanced down to table at her 'brother' to see if Kyson was thinking the same thing. She couldn't tell, the older Slytherin seemed too absorbed in his own friends to be giving it much thought. She momentarily wondered if he would spend the holidays with the rest of her family instead or if he'd travel back to his actual sisters and father . . .

As Greyfriar called for quiet Nicola gave him her full attention. She still wasn't sure how to respond to the Headmaster now. Not after her own stupid 'brilliant ideas' had caused him so much trouble. Her face fell when his words seem to bring with them a darker meaning. Though her immediate family worked in the animal trade, Kyson's sisters were Aurors. She knew things weren't great outside the Castle.

The end of term anticipation served to extend the chatter beyond its normal lifespan, and the Headmaster was patient. His introduction required some processing and talking amongst each other was a normal thing for youths to do, ease tension with misplaced pokes and prods, shift gears as conversations wrapped up. As a many of many thoughts and words, Knox could empathize.

"Thank you," he said, when sufficient (but not total) silence eventually came. "I make these warnings not to frighten you or dull your spirits in any way. I will also not soften nor censor the message because it will not do you a service and additionally I've found in my day that those of your age can handle more than conventional wisdom holds."

He clasped his hands behind his back. "It doesn't take a Legilmancer to hear your kindly quieted demands that I get on with it, so here it is: fresh dangers await you outside these walls, perhaps exactly as many as before but could be a few more. I hope you'll count them all and take appropriate measures to safe-care yourself and those around you."

The Headmaster continued. "There have been, firstly, a rise in the dangers of the full moon. Injuries to werewolves and the rest have increased. Humor an old man and find your proper place on those nights."

"Further more, we have learned a forgotten secret. Once a phenomenon all were aware and wary of, only recently has our world remembered a Pentral. They deserve both our caution and our pity; take heed of any additional voices in your head - they may be a lost visitor."

He gave the whispers a moment.

"And finally, a threat you're all well trained in, a worry you'll all be accustomed to, and despite our familiarity with them, deserve a mention at our feast: Dementors yet roam our skies. Keep your wands and happiest memories handy. They're as dangerous as anything you'll ever meet."

Knox Greyfriar spread his hands and smiled. Job done.