[Albus Dumbledore]

Dumbledore stood at the lectern watching the students filing into the Great Hall. It wasn't his first year as headmaster and, daresay, he felt somewhat like he had settled into that particular role, perhaps more than he had originally expected to.

It never failed to amuse him how much energy there was in the room before him. The Great Hall, in his mind, never looked better than the first day of term: the candles at their brightest, the enchanted ceiling letting in the majesty of the skies and stars above them, and all of the returning students already before him - eager to get back to learning new magic.

But for Dumbledore the greatest individual moment was just about to occur: the first year students arriving, eyes wide and shining with awe at the majesty of the Great Hall, the mumbling amongst them as to the nature of the Sorting, that moment when the world opened up for them and their first brush with their destiny manifested: that moment when the Sorting Hat would reach into them and start them on their way.

For someone somewhat sentimental like Dumbledore it was always encouraging to see it happen.

He smiled, and gestured with a wave of his hand for silence. As if by magic the room fell silent just as Professor McGonagall opened the great wide doors and led the first years through the middle of the hall, past the tables of students - as every year, the returning students watched the first years with a mix of anticipation and sympathy.

Professor Dumbledore's smile widened into a great beam as Professor McGonagall set down the Sorting Hat on its place, and it began to sing.

I may look like a dotty old hat,
In need of minding, mending, maybe a clean.
But rest assured, I'll know where you're at,
I look into who you are, not what you seem.

I don't care if you're freckly or tall,
I don't mind if you're athletic and lean,
I shan't notice if your shoes are too small,
I won't tell if your fingernails aren't clean.

I can sense what truly counts in you,
To find your home with a fellow student,
Bravery, honour, loyalty true
Or wits or cunning, whatever's prudent.

Whether Gryffindor, chivalrous lions at heart,
That dare to try to best their foes,
Home of the brave, setting them apart,
Keeping all the others awake on their toes.

Or Slytherin, cunning as a snake,
Supercilious, glorious, ambitious,
But of course, the connections you'll make,
Choices in life can be most auspicious.

Perhaps Ravenclaw, the home of booklore,
The keen of mind to devour the tomes,
And wit and wisdom, to learn ever more,
The power of the mind to roam.

And of course, Hufflepuff, hearty badgers,
Home of the loyalest and the just:
More important than deeds of greater stature,
Being true to each other, in each other we trust.

So don't dilly, don't dally, don't delay,
Your friend, the Hat, is here to decide,
With me upon your head, I will relay
Into which house, you will join with much pride!

Dumbledore led a polite round of applause. He had heard the Hat 'composing' this year's ditty while sat in his office - and truth be told, he rather thought the Hat was having an off-year this year. In fact, perhaps even for the last couple of years. There was always next year to look forward to.

But for now, he just watched, beaming, as Professor McGonagall called the first name on her list. They did look like rather a bright cohort this year.

[Sebastian Matthews]

It's good to be back in Hogwarts!

Sebastian thought to himself as he sat at the Hufflepuff table with a bright smile on his boyish features. Don't get him wrong, he loved spending time with his parents, but the loss of magic all summer had been so restrictive. It was a stupid law! Why shouldn't they cast spells if no muggles were around and there was a magical adult present to fix any mishaps? Not that it mattered now! He was back at Hogwarts, and by the time next summer came around he'd be seventeen and free to cast spells every minute of every day if he so wished.

"This is our year; I can feel it!" The sixteen-year-old boy commented as a few of his housemates discussed this year's Quidditch tournament. It felt strange to be in his sixth year, to know that it would not be long before he went out into the big bad world. Sebastian also felt grateful that he wasn't stuck in that position now. His OWL results had been less than stellar. With Exceeds Expectations in Charms, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Defence against the Dark Arts and Averages in the rest, he had barely gotten back into School. But at least he had not gotten any Poor or Dreadful or worse a Troll. That had to count for something, right?

The Hufflepuff listened to the Sorting Hat's song with half a mind. His stomach growled in protest. Sebastian could not wait for the sorting to be over and their dinner to appear. He let out a chuckle as one of the first years, something Harrison, he'd been too shocked to catch the first name, accidentally knocked the hat off its stool. To the boys credit he'd quickly picked the hat off the floor and looked down at the crowd brightly despite the red tinge to his cheeks. Well, that sorting was certainly going to be fun. He thought with bemusement. Hopefully the hat would not take the issue too seriously. The last thing the poor boy needed was a wrong sorting, as a result of some vendetta.

He lounged back in his seat as the hat continued the important task of sorting. He offered polite claps for every first year sorted and particularly loud cheers for anyone sorted into the badger house. It really was good to be back!

[Avie Brocklehurst]

The sheer selection of food at the sorting feast was one of Avie's favourite things about being back from the holidays. The trestle tables were piled high with a selection of food to tempt anyone, and a few odd things besides to tempt no-one. She carefully bypassed a strange plate of grey...somethings, and dove into the pastry-covered Wellingtons.

This year was all about focus. It was sixth year. Seventh year would be too late to make anything truly change. If she was going to work through all her ambitions, she needed to improve and build her networks now. The world was changing, and she wanted to be a part of making that change better. If only she could work out how.

A fellow Ravenclaw struck up a conversation about summer, and Avie eagerly regaled him with her holiday to France with her parents.

She pulled out a book with a set of photographs carefully stuck inside. Unfortunately, as she did so, a separate envelope rolled out of her bag. She had only a couple of seconds to notice it falling, and desperately tried to catch it back. Her flailing hands missed the fluttering envelope, and it fell to the floor. There was a brief pause, and then the entire envelope exploded in a shower of sparks and a billow of smoke.

[Grace Pemberton]

Grace was running late. Her dormitory mates had just arrived back after the summer and there had been a very unfortunate accident while unpacking Gemma's potion supplies. Her vials of larkspur extract had cracked during travel and of course the mess had gone everywhere. Despite several scourgify spells, Grace had to take a detour via the bathrooms to take a quick shower and make herself presentable. There were some kinds of mess that even magic couldn't clean up easily and good, old water was the best way to go.

Her hair was still damp when she tried to slide into the Great Hall undetected. The last thing she needed was to lose some house points on the very first day of the school year. Her house mates would be disappointed in her and she was determined to do we well this year. Having spotted a free seat, Grace squeezed through the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw table. With everyone sat down the space was a little tight, but still manageable.

She paused when one of the Ravenclaw upperclassmen suddenly turned around having dropped something. A white envelope was sailing through the air, before softly landing on the floor. Grace tried to pick it up for the girl, but her reflexes weren't quite fast enough. Suddenly, the envelope exploded into sparks and smoke, surrounding both girls for a couple of moments. Grace couldn't see much, but she was sure everyone's attention was suddenly on the two of them.

"What was that?" she asked immediately. Some king of howler maybe? Weren't they supposed to be noisier? But it would explain the puff of smoke. "I hope it wasn't anything I did," Grace continued nervously. She could have sworn she hadn't even touched the envelope and it had somehow just gone off all by itself. How strange.

[Bobby Cashmore]

Bobby was enjoying immensely himself in the Great Hall. Third year, he decided, was a good year to be at the feast. First year, everything's so new and it's all so exciting but also so nerve-wracking. He vaguely remembered his own sorting and the applause from Ravenclaw table, but everything was so wild and unlike everything he'd learned in Muggle schools before coming to Hogwarts.

Then of course there was the second year - it was still so new but at least he could observe the sorting rather than being part of it, and there was still the faint feeling that this was all some ridiculous dream that he would wake up from.

But third year? Long enough for it to be very much real, and to be comfortable with it, and around enough that it wasn't new.

He'd noticed Grace sliding in between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, and was just about to ask how the rest of her summer had gone after their trip to Dublin, when a fellow Ravenclaw seemed to fumble with an envelope just as Grace was passing. He didn't entirely recognise the student at first - Avie was a few years ahead of him, but more than that, she seemed to have had a holiday somewhere warmer than Britain if the suntan was anything to go by.

Bobby watched the events unfold almost in slow motion as the envelope fell, and Grace - ever helpful - went to reach for it before it burst into sparks and smoke.

Odd, though, it didn't have a red envelope so it couldn't have been a howler - not that he'd received one, but he'd certainly heard a couple... and there was no shouting voice.

Bobby wondered idly what the teachers were making of it - he almost didn't want to turn to see what Professor Dumbledore made of it. He kept watching, fascinated by what would come next.

[Avie Brocklehurst]

Avie spluttered in the debris of her dropped envelope, streaks of white powder staining her black robes and long hair. She was sure it was all over her face, and felt a blush start to spread across her cheeks.

A younger Gryffindor had got caught near the following explosion.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry," Avie gabbled, although at least the girl's words had sounded more inquisitive that alarmed. "No it wasn't you."

Here she faltered, and now she was definitely blushing. But there was nothing for it but explain. At least the teachers seemed so far to have ignored it as start of term high spirits. "They are...were... duelling practise sticks. Meant to improve reflexes, you know. They're meant to start to go off one at a time, and you've got to disarm them before the smoke starts. But I missed them."

And that had been her whole stock. She bit her lip, thoroughly embarrassed.

[Albus Dumbledore]

There seemed to be something of a commotion and errant behaviour at the Ravenclaw tables. Of course, it was start of term, and the excitable young minds before him were often glad to be back under the Hogwarts roof where they might get the opportunity to cast magic. It was one of the joys that old men in ivory towers forgot: the simple exuberance of youth, especially when restrained by the Ministry's rules about magic out of school.

And it would certainly be amiss to suggest that such enthusiasm and boisterous temperaments would never let off magic in the Great Hall. It was mostly a surprise to see at the Ravenclaw table, though as he watched, he noted the bright red of the hair of Miss Pemberton in between the two tables. He couldn't contain the hint of a smile; such was the fate of Gryffindors all alike, to be in the thick of it, as such. And Miss Pemberton had certainly found herself in the thick of a few things and it was only the start of her second, or perhaps third year? No, no, second year.

It wasn't clear exactly what had transpired, whether it were an accident of a Ravenclaw, or an accident of a Gryffindor but the shower of sparks and smoke was familiar enough - a student had purchased practice materials for duelling and had been unfortunate enough to set them off outside of duelling.

In any case, it hardly mattered who was to blame, laying the blame was for the short-tempered and the braggards. What mattered were the consequences. And a student who turns up preparing for duelling should not be punished for so doing: there would most certainly be need of duellists for some time to come, if he were correct. The recent incidents of a former student of Hogwarts and his... ascension and obsession suggested to Dumbledore that what was coming was going to be neither swift or decisive, and that the teaching of Defence Against The Dark Arts and duelling would be a very important fixture for some time to come yet.

So with a twinkle in his eye, he applauded enthusiastically with a cry of "Bravo!" It didn't matter if the other staff had noticed or joined in; what mattered is that, to the students, the easily-delighted old fuddy-duddy - if genius - noticed. Then as he stopped, the room fell silent, with an air of anticipation that was truly palpable.

"First of all, thank you for giving us this wonderful display; may we always start a new school term with a bang of excitement!" He thought he heard a few nervous laughs from the student tables.

"Duelling sticks, well, we haven't had those in Hogwarts in many a year. I daresay Zonko's will do a roaring trade this year! You see, I have decided that Hogwarts shall reintroduce an old favourite of many former students: a duelling club will be returning. It will be open to all students and staff, for any who wish to practice their skills in duelling. Details will be confirmed in the next two weeks so please do consider if you wish to participate or simply watch and cheer on your friends. Remember, even supporting your friends can be an important tactic. Do note that only third years and up can visit Hogsmeade, but practice materials will be available for younger students too."

He withdrew his wand and with nary a gesture, wafted away the smoke, quenched the sparks and rolled the envelope back up and let it drift back onto the table. He smiled, the twinkle shining in his eye. "I shouldn't really - it is a shade early for this, but two points to Ravenclaw for preparedness, and for the delightful display, and one to Gryffindor for an eagerness to help, no matter what that might mean."

[M. B. Montgomery]

Professor Montgomery was admist animated discussion with his colleague Prendergast. They hadn't seen much of each other over the summer with Msaed visiting extended family in the Highlands while Prendergast was doing whatever he usually did. It was nice to finally catch up, though the great hall wasn't as nice a venue as the local pub. Maybe they could sneak out later and grab a drink a little more potent than the butterbeer that was being served with dinner.

"Oh come on," Sid admonished, "don't give me a hard time about it now. Just because you don't have any flair for divination and can't explain it with your fancy arithmancy doesn't mean that it isn't real." He sounded a little more confident than he actually was. While Sid knew that divination worked, he was unsure if it could be taught. His own latent power was fickle and unpredictable and at the ripe age of seventy he still felt like more of a student than a teacher.

Harold's sceptical expression said it all. "Time is a river," Sid started, "and everything is in flow. If you know how to catch a current, you can see where it leads or where it came from. With the right focus and tools you can let magic show you the path ahead."

He wondered for a moment whom he was trying to convince. Himself or his colleague. Sid still wasn't entirely comfortable with switching subjects from Defense Against the Dark Arts to Divination. As a former curse breaker his knowledge of the Dark Arts and how to defend against them was far greater than anything he knew about predicting the future. However, it was also true that he stemmed from a long line of actual seers and had some ability of his own. According to Professor Dumbledore that was increasingly rare. After interviewing many a candidate, he hadn't come across another who had made a genuine prediction before.

"And even if I don't have any talented students this year, at the very least I can teach them enough to identify and expose charlatans." He repeated this line with a sense of routine. He'd clearly been using it before to justify things to himself.

Suddenly Professor Dumbledore cried out at something and then began to address the assembled student body once again. Had something happened? Oh, smoke and sparks. Those were the tell-tale signs of improper use of duelling practise equipment. Interesting.

Oddly enough, instead of reprimanding the students for the incident, the headmaster was awarding points and almost congratulating them on the accident. Did the man understand that somebody could have gotten hurt? It wouldn't do to contradict the headmaster in public, but Sid resolved to talk to him about it later. And what had that been, a duelling club? Sid glanced at Professor Prendergast to see if he knew anything about it. It didn't seem like it.

Once the headmaster had finished speaking, Sid couldn't help a snarky comment. "I assume I'm supervising that. Would have been nice to have been told in advance." Or perhaps the new DADA guy would when he arrived? Sid still wasn't over that Dumbledore had allowed him to start a couple of weeks into the term owed to a prior commitment. And they still hadn't talked about who would teach the students in the meantime. Sid supposed there was a possibility that Dumbledore would do so himself.

[Grace Pemberton]

Duelling sticks? Grace raised an eyebrow. She'd never heard of anything like it, but it sounded quite intriguing. She'd not yet been in a proper duel, but somehow had a feeling it was a skill worth learning. Grace enjoyed DADA as a class as well. It was such a shame that Professor Montgomery wouldn't be teaching DADA again this year. Hopefully, the new Professor would turn out to be nice. Grace hadn't spotted them yet at the head table.

"So what made them go off all at once?" Grace asked. Was it just that the Ravenclaw had dropped them? That didn't seem like a very good design if that was the case. Hopefully they hadn't been expensive. Where did one even buy equipment like that?

It was only now that Grace noticed the other girl was covered in some kind of powder. "Do you need help cleaning up? I can cast a quick scourgify over you if you'd like?"

Before Avie could answer Professor Dumbledore was suddenly speaking up, drawing all the attention in the room to them. Grace felt mortified and just wanted to turn invisible. Was it not enough to be doused in some weird stuff? At least the Professor didn't seem to be mad at them. That was something.

To Grace utter surprise house points were being awarded and she nodded numbly. It didn't leave her feeling cheerful so much as pitied. She'd take the point though. It was a start towards beating Slytherin this year, which in Grace's eyes was sometimes even more important than winning. Of course if her house could win too that would be wonderful.

As the headmaster's words ebbed, the students around them started talking again.

"Well, that was awkward," she said to Avie. "Offer of a cleaning spell still stands."

[Avie Brocklehurst]

Avie heard Professor Dumbledore say the words, but they took a second or two to sink in. There were a few muted woops from the surrounding benches, but mostly her fellow students seemed glad to have avoided the unpleasant clouds of smoke, and not to have got in too much trouble right at the start of the year. The remains of the envelope were still on the floor, smoking gently.

When the Gryffindor girl offered a scourgify spell, Avie realised just how much of the grubby grey soot had settled on her robes and face. She gave her nose an attempted rub, but only succeeded in smearing it further. She had something of a look of a badger about her, pale skin striped against grey soot.

There was a small frisson of Ravenclaw arrogance at the offer. The girl was what, a second or third year? And a Gryffindor? Would she even be able to cast the spell correctly? But then Avie quashed those thoughts down. She was probably just trying to be nice. She had resolved it was the year for making friends outside of her house and year group.

"Uhh, thanks. You can probably see better than me where I've got...stuff." She smiled ruefully. "I'm Avie, by the way."

[Harold Prendergast]

Harold had missed Sid over the summer. He'd been cooped up in his quarters with his experiments, and plenty of time to ponder over the letters he'd had - and whatever was going on in Dumbledore's mind.

Sid had just made some rather bold claims about the 'realness' of divination with respect to his own preference for what could be measured and studied. Then Sid sounded rather philosophical, that time was a river. Harold wondered if Sid would come to know just how true that statement really was, and it took a fair degree of Harold's self-control to not pat the rather intricate device in his pocket that looked - to the untrained eye - like a very decorative pocket watch. If ever one should wish to navigate time's river, that "pocket watch" made for quite the canoe, not that Harold would admit it to anyone.

Harold let him carry on; he knew Sid well enough to know that the next line or two would be a conclusion, probably one he could even agree with - and there it was, the practical observation toward exposing charlatans. It was a sentiment he absolutely could get behind and opened his mouth to say as much when he heard Dumbledore make a noise.

There was a commotion over that the Ravenclaw table, and Dumbledore was making some announcement in his usual grandiose style. A duelling club? That was interesting indeed, but it didn't bode well in his mind. This didn't seem like teaching duelling as a noble sport, or as a fun activity but practically so, and beyond what the usual Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching would presumably cover. Though strictly speaking duelling was not a 'dark art' even if a number of the more learned duellists may occasionally veer towards the more shadowy corners of their form.

Harold could barely keep a chortle in at Sid's indignance, though, he realised his friend was genuinely unimpressed at the situation. "I assume Dumbledore has a plan in mind, and that we're all invited. Perhaps he himself intends to teach some of the sessions. I suppose I could probably do a session or two if it came down to it, though duelling really rather wasn't my strongest suit, as a student or an adult." He wondered whether this had anything to do with their chance meeting in London over the summer.

[Grace Pemberton]

There weren't a great many spells Grace was good at yet, but cleaning charms she had plenty of practise with. Her mum had insisted that Grace clean her own room over the summer rather than adding to the house elves' workload. Her mum had dubbed this 'learning important life skills' though Grace wasn't entirely convinced by this argument. If she became a successful auror as planned, surely she wouldn't be expected to do the cleaning at home too? Well, at least she hoped so. Otherwise, what would the point of studying be?

"Okay, here goes nothing."

She pointed her wand at Avie and carefully whispered the incantation. Grace wanted for the spell to come out quite gentle. She couldn't imagine that having a cleaning charm blasted at you was a particularly pleasant situation, but it probably beat taking the walk of shame to the bathroom. Grace knew a thing or two about that.

Thankfully, the incantation went off without a hitch and Grace looked satisfied with the result. The Ravenclaw girl looked presentable again and all her limbs were still attached in the correct places.

"Are you alright?" Grace checked in. She would have been lying if she'd claimed not be nervous about firing a spell at the Ravenclaw upperclassman.

"I'm Grace, by the way," she introduced herself to Avie. Part of her suspected an introduction probably haven't been necessary. As the librarian's daughter most of the school seemed to have taken note of her, though unfortunately not in a good way. People kept accusing her of being a teacher's pet when nothing could be further from the truth. Grace really hoped Avie hadn't heard any of those stories about her let alone believed them.

[Bobby Cashmore]

Bobby had been paying attention to the events of Avie and the envelope - when his train of thought was interrupted by Professor Dumbledore of all people. The headmaster seemed to be pleasantly surprised and impressed by the duelling sticks that he had announced a duelling club, though several of the professors at the table seemed to hesitate or even wince in reaction, especially Professor Montgomery.

He'd heard a rumour milling around the Ravenclaw table that Montgomery wasn't teaching DADA this year but instead teaching Divination. He hoped it wasn't true; he'd liked Professor Montgomery and his enthusiastic take on how to tackle Dark magic. Dual-wielding wands had to be pretty incredible when you thought about it, and benig a Curse-breaker meant there were always interesting stories that Montgomery had of his former days. He wondered if the rumours were true and if so, why would he be leaving for Divination?

He saw Professors Prendergast and Montgomery engaged in a rather enthusastic debate between themselves, and basically ignored the rest of the people in the Great Hall, which had descended into a lot of debate about the combat they might encounter if they joined portal club. He was thinking about the duelling and this seemed to form the gossip amongst the tables - it was now pretty much all they were talking about, excitedly. Though he wasn't sure whether he wanted to participate, before his thoughts were interrupted by Grace and her trying to help with a cleaning spell, expertly puulled off by the loogs of things. He was sure Avie would have known the correct spell but was too embarrassed to try it front of everyone?

Whatever happened though, it promised to be a very interesting and exciting new year - and it was only just starting!

[Avie Brocklehurst]

Avie rubbed her finger against her nose, and it came away clean. Her clothes still seemed to all be intact. It had been a surprisingly good cleaning charm. She gave Grace a weak smile, trying to recover.

Looking up at the top table, she thought that all the attention had moved on. Better safe than sorry, though, and she sat down on the wooden benches. She kept herself turned around though, so she could keep talking to Grace.

"So, duelling club?" She raised an eyebrow, trying to break the awkward bubble of tension. "Is that something you'd be interested in?" Her ears were still buzzing from the explosion, and so she spoke a bit too loudly.

[Grace Pemberton]

"I'd love to learn," Grace said enthusiastically, "but I don't know that this is necessarily for second years. We don't know a lot of spells yet." She purposefully kept her phrasing a bit vague, but her true concern was that she didn't think she was good enough to try. Grace hadn't done terribly well during her first year. She'd studied a lot, but somehow it hadn't really paid off and she was still overly nervous in classes and fumbled things when it mattered. It didn't really change anything that her teachers seemed to have a lot of praise, it was just that she had failed to live up to her own expectations.

"Well, that and I might need the time to study. I really want to get better grades this year." Her last report had been lots of As and a few Es. It had been deeply disappointing when Grace keenly felt that she had a better grasp of magical theory than a lot of her classmates. However, it just didn't seem to materialise into practical outcomes. It had left her with the uncomfortable question of what was wrong with her to not do better, but she hadn't found a compelling answer yet.

"Maybe we could practise some time," Grace suggested. Casting some spells in front of just Avie seemed a lot less terrifying than trying to duel and fail in front of a whole class of students. Grace hated how the teachers at Hogwarts had a way of putting you on the spot and making you embarrass yourself in front of everybody. That always made things feel a million times worse to Grace.

Seeing how the attention on them had finally dissipated and people were minding their own business again Grace decided she could take a little risk. "I was thinking of having a midnight party next week to celebrate that we're all back at school. Would you like to come?"