Byron tore his horrified gaze away from the rotting food spread at the sound of voices, there was a Hufflepuff he didn't know, an older girl from his own house and Little Harlow from the gardens. The boy managed a smile for the first year, "To each his own, eh?"

He'd opened his mouth for just two seconds to say that sentence, and yet he regretted that he'd done it at all. It was as if he could TASTE the rot.