AT THE MOMENT, everyone was seating themselves at the four house tables in the Great Hall. Today was the first day back for all students, September first. Arden and Cedric were sitting together at the Gryffindor table, betting with Fred and George on what platters and dishes would be served for tonight's feast.
"No way will it be Yorkshire pudding. Last year, it was shepard's pie and cornish pasties," said Fred, shaking his head at Arden's prediction.
"Your prediction is about as weak as your prediction of Bulgaria winning the World Cup," George finished, mirroring his brother and shaking his head.
"Whatever, shepard's pie is not the kind of meal you introduce the new school year to. Yorkshire pudding, however, is a big winner in my book," Arden insisted, lightly tapping her fingers on the table. Before anyone could say another word on the devastatingly lame matter, Dumbledore cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention.
"That's my cue to leave," Cedric said, standing up and smiling to Arden. However, as she started to smile and wave, he slipped her a small piece of folded parchment.
Astronomy Tower, 11 pm
Smiling to herself, she looked up and began to watch the new first years, all looking nervous as they stood in a line at the front of the hall. She smiled at the memory of when it was her, feeling as though it happened only yesterday.
Once the hat began its new song, the sorting flew by (for Arden). However, for Cedric, it graced by slowly, as if time became a steady waltz. Completely unaware of everything going on around him, his attention was fixed on his bestfriend. Gazing at her candidly numbed his mind of everything — looking at her now, staring up at the now-starry ceiling, took his breath away. Every day he put a staggering amount of effort to conceal his feelings, not wanting her to ever suspect or find out, yet, sometimes, moments like this occurred (another was when they laid together at the bottom of Stoatshead Hill), where the facade breaks.
Alas, Dumbledore announced that the feast had begun, causing everyone dig into the fine cuisine that magically appeared on the golden dishes.
"Aha, what did I say, Fred, George? What was it again?" Arden grinned, using one hand to motion the large, golden fork to the even larger platter of Yorkshire pudding, and the other to cup her ear.
"Well, Thomas, we would say that you have outdone yourself this one time, dare I say, a true predictor of time, but. . ." George started, a feigned look of admiration forming on his face.
". . . There also appears to be at least half a dozen plump shepard's pies at this table alone, and oh! Look around, no Cornish pasties. Concluding these calculations, you receive a single point, and we received two. Pay up," Fred finished smugly, holding out his hand.
The bickering continued throughout the remainder of the feast, though they enjoyed themselves with stupid jokes and full bellies. Before the three knew it, the plates were cleared, signaling that Dumbledore was going to begin to speak again.
"Now that we are all fed and watered," he projected, "I would like to discuss that the inter-house quidditch cup will not take place this year." Gasps and groans emitted from the student tables. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much time. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts — " before the headmaster could finish, however, a loud roar of thunder bellowed from the ceiling. Many students jumped and cried out, yet, before anything could be done to fix the rather wet ceiling weather pattern, the tall doors to the Great Hall swung open, and a bright flash of light shot to the ceiling and ceased the downpour.
