When Leon sat down, his knobbly elbows banged into the table top. His attention WAS towards the enchanted ceiling, but not so much now.The simultaneous pain was acknowledged by his silent scream and twisted face. His peachy skin was now a shade of embarrassed pink as he slowly peered around, trying to decipher the looks and see if anyone noticed his faux pas. The awfully curious numbness that followed the pain was being rubbed out and if anyone chanced a look now, it just appeared Leon was a bit chilly.

The lanky pre-teen just wanted to fit in at his new school. He poured himself some pumpkin juice and sipped at it. His eyes drawing judgments about the other tables occupants and strategies developing for how he would get through his first week.

The first thing Hayden did when she entered the Great Hall was look around for her table. It was unmistakable, covered with yellow and black. It didn't look like too many people had decided to be brave and venture toward other tables. So, wanting something to drink but nothing major, Hayden started to walk toward the Hufflepuff table. But then she noticed a different table, and a young boy sitting all by himself. She glanced between the two tables for a moment and then walked toward the one under the green and silver banner before she could change her mind.

"Hello," she said shyly to the boy when she reached the table. But she didn't sit down yet. What if he didn't want her company?

Leon was startled by the soft voice from behind and he choked a bit on his drink. His face flushed red with embarrassment as he dabbed at the spill on his lap. He turned to face her and replied, "Hi there." He stopped trying to dab at his lap and just laid the napkin over it. Oh gosh, it looks like I didn't make it to the loo He folded his hands over the napkin and grimaced a smile.

"Ah hoy, you're a Hufflepuff." He tried breaking the ice, embarrassed once more that he was stating something so obvious. Of course, if he played this right, he could write home that he got a girlfriend.

"Youhaveprettyhair" he forced out. Being 11 was weird.

No, she totally did not see him spill his drink. Because he probably would have preferred if she hadn't, so she didn't. What drink? Maybe she'd accidentally surprised him. Oops.

Yay he said hi. And he wasn't chasing her back to her own table. "And you're a Slytherin," she said after his declaration of obviousness. Maybe he was nervous. But why would he be? She was nice! Wasn't that a requirement of being Hufflpeuff? (Obviously not according to a certain prefect). PRETTY HAIR? She blushed and tugged on her red braid. "Thanks." She smiled. "Yours looks good too." Well it wasn't bad, but she'd mostly just said it because it seemed like the proper way to respond to a compliment. Though after she said it, it just seemed weird. So she rushed to change the subject.

"My name is Hayden."

Okaay. So Grace was really hungry. Like really really hungry. And she needed to fix that. The only way was she get some food. Potatoes. She wanted mashed potatoes. They were like her favorite food. Humming to herself she hurried down to the slytherin table. She wanted her food now. She sat down in the middle of the table, and began filling her plate with mash. "Yummm." She giggled a little, putting the big spoon down, before picking up her fork. Smiling, she began eating her mash. Mmm. That was filling the hole in her stomach. Now she'd be able to go to potions and totally not be distracted or anything.

Despite the countless number of times she had been to their house, Dima didn't really KNOW Grace. All he knew was that she was a Slytherin in Angelo's year and that her mum and his dad were friends and that he had to give her this note because his brother had asked him to do so.

And that was all he cared to know, really.

"Hi Grace," he greeted politely, dropping into the empty spot next to her. Could he sit there? Were the snakes gonna kick him out? Was this NOT ALLOWED? "You remember me, right? Angelo's brother?"

Someone was talking to her. Someone was interrupting her eating of potatoes. Did people not get that she didn't want to have people interrupt her? Eating potatoes was important. And not to be interrupted. Oh. It was only Dima. She could put up with him. Dima was good. "Hi Dima..." She smiled, eating some more potatoes before turning to him. She hadn't seen him that much around school. Which was kind of bad. But she had always kind of knew his brother better.

"Yes. I remember you." She wasn't likely to forget a Toussaint in a long long time.

"Hi," he repeated, smiling back at Grace sort of tentatively. Yep. Hi. Hadn't he said that already? "Oh. Well... uh, good! I remember you too!" Which was obvious, considering he'd just found her and greeted her by name.

... right, then. Moving on. "Angelo wanted me to give this to you." YES, Dima DID KNOW what it said. And NO, he did NOT approve.

He passed it to her and waited. For... something. An answer, maybe? Or was he done playing owl?

He was saying hi again? Yup. They didn't talk so much. So maybe it was kind of awkward. "umm.... Good?" He had known her name, so she had figured that he had remembered her. It would make sense. Because you know. Yeah. Was he here for a reason? Because she didn't really know what to say to him really.

Angelo had a note for her? Oh yes. She remembered. "Oh..." She nodded, taking the note from him before reading it. Oh... Ooh. Very Interesting. She grinned a little, before looking at Dima. "You read it...." She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm gonna owl him back myself." After she'd thought about things.

It was obvious what she wanted to do by that weird girly smile of hers, and Dima had to refrain from gagging. Ew.

"I did read it," he stated, nodding, not a the slightest bit of shame on his face. What? Angelo definitely wouldn't mind his brother reading it or he wouldn't have had Dima deliver the note, and it wasn't really a secret or anything. Only weird.

She could answer herself? Well. Good. Wasn't like he didn't know what was gonna happen anyway. "Cool. I'm... gonna go then. Bye."

And if she took up Dima's time with Angelo over Christmas, they were gonna have ISSUES. Just saying.

Grace actually wanted to go owl Angelo right away. That was weird right? But christmas was going to be very interesting. But Angelo was off in durmstrang right now and she was eating potatoes. So the reply could really wait. Anyway. She had more important things to do. Like go tell Ava. This was going to be soooo much fun. She'd need to practice. She'd never done this before.

"Okay..." It was good he was going. Because she didn't really want to talk to him. "Bye." And now she could eat her mash in peace.

She was scowling, a very displeased and possibly hateful scowl. Beverly Wayne gave off a look as if touched, she'd either snap or burn the person on sight. Christmas was her least favorite time of the year. Not only was it evident on her face that she was utterly displeased at the Christmas tree closest to the Slytherin table, but on the crime scene next to her. On a tray lay about a dozen decapitated gingerbread men.

This year around though, the holiday wasn't the only thing she was unhappy about. It was at the letter she had received moments before, that was now balled up in her fist. Stupid muggles. Stupid women. Stupid dads who fell for muggle women. No--actually, her dad was not stupid. He never could be. Stupid Lucia Escalante. UGH!

Beverly wanted to punch her. So badly.

For now, she settled for breaking gingerbread men heads off. And plotting. Lots and lots of plotting. Maybe this holiday wouldn't go to waste after all.

Ugh. Was it that time again? Cutty wore a look that suggested if one were to sneeze in his general direction, it wouldn't be out of his way for him to transfigure the offending orifice into a pair of snapping fingers. How's that for involuntary reaction?!

It was all the Christmas what did it. Not his favourite holiday. Not by a long shot. He rather disliked it. And so it pleased him when he took a seat near one, Beverly Juniper Wayne and saw that she was single handedly beheading all of the gingerbread men at their table like a guillotine girl. Very nice! And she had on a scowl as she was doing it too. This was authentic. Maybe Walker said something that girls would find idiotic. Heh.

"Joost the head? I'm sure there are other parts that might be as equally deserving of severing?" He suggested, popping on of the severed gingerbread heads into his mouth and reaching for his beloved Pixie Puffs cereal.

Beverly was in the middle of planning to write a letter to her cousin and demand he lend her his catapult. She knew of things existence and it could come in useful. That was, until that familiar accent reached her ears.

Cutty Mordaunt had entered her den.

"You're right," she said, swirling on her bum back toward the table, as she had been facing the other away. Picking up one of the beheaded gingerbread men, she broke it right in half, where it'd hurt the most if it could feel. Letting it fall back on the tray, she dusted her hands. Job well done.

"How's that? Or should I break the legs off, too?" Christmas and her just didn't mix. Could you tell?

Not that he was enjoying the decorations anymore than she was, but he recognized that he was usually in the minority when it came to being not-a-fan-of-Christmas. Thus, when he saw her uncharacteristic aggression toward the gingerbread man he assumed it was other things. But not Walker. Bev was too strong to let something a dude said to her bother her. He took a spoonful of Pixie Puffs, chewed and swallowed as he got out his wand. "Don't stop there. Sky's the limit! Reducto." He spoke calmly reducing the gingerbread man down to what appeared to be sugar grains.

"Mehrlin, I hate Christmas." He said before taking another large spoonful of cereal to his mouth.

Cutty hated Christmas.

Beverly had been so wrapped up in herself that she'd failed to notice the manner in which he had entered the Great Hall, but his actions and words were enough to let her know that he wasn't a fan of Christmas before he even said it. It pleased her in a way that he, of all people, shared that with her.

"That's sick," she said, in a tone which indicated she thought it was cool the way he just obliterated the cookie. Approved. Beverly brandished her wand. "Incendio!"A gingerbread man's head burst into flames, leaving behind a tiny pile of ashes. "That's better," she mused, twirling her wand between her fingers. Then side glancing at Cutty, she poked another gingerbread man. "What's your story? Why do you hate Christmas?"

Normally she wouldn't pry into others business, but this was Cutty Mordaunt and he was intriguing at times, and it made her curious. Even if after the common room thing where, if she was being honest, she would have punched him if she hadn't been taken by surprise.

Whoa. Look at Bevie go!

Cutty picked up a nearby gingerbread man and expressionlessly held him over Beverly's Incendio spell until his head was alight as well. His face, though was soon screwed up in an expression of thought whilst he considered the question. Why did he hate Christmas?

"I dunno." He said with a shrug. "It's just sort of annoying, I guess." Came his typical boy answer. It wasn't as though he didn't have some pleasant Christmas memories. Like that time his mum polyjuiced as him and they ran about all day joshing with people. Cutty extinguished the flaming head of the gingerbread man in a glass of milk. "What about yew? Are yew a big fan or something?"

Fire to the gingerbread men, poor fools. Lighting another up, Beverly turned to Cutty with a raised eyebrow. He hated Christmas because it was annoying? She supposed it was. Like that miniature Santa Claus whizzing around the Christmas tree next to their table. Would the professors mind if she blew it up?

"It's not cool enough for you?" Because he had this chill demeanor about himself at times. Maybe the lights and idiotic decorations were too foolish for him.

Beverly expected him to ask the same question in return and she was fully intending on lying. Now though, she didn't feel like it. Stalling, she reached over and poured some Pixie Puffs into a bowl and popped some dry puffs into her mouth. And chewed slowly. Then blasted another gingerbread man.

"I hate it," she said with a shrug, then with her best neutral face expression, she added, "my mum died two days after. I hate it since." She wasn't going to cry and be all dramatic about it.

It probably didn't make sense. The holiday had nothing to do with it, but she couldn't bring herself to celebrate and have fun when her mother had agonized in her last days of life. It'd feel as if she were celebrating her being gone, which was so wrong.

Cutty knew he was awesome. So when Beverly stated that Christmas was not cool enough for him, he had to agree. "Yeah. That's probably it." He said calmly, as if they'd used logical deduction to figure something out just now. At least they got the bottom of the mystery.

The Slytherin boy watched as another Gingerbread man had died in spectacular glory. 'Cruk St. Germaine, December 2083-December 2083, He lived a sweet life and died a crummy death', is what the epitaph would say. Cruk. What kind of a name was Cruk?


Whilst he considered other ways to vent on his annoyance over the garish holiday, Cutty heard Bev say it. It was neither a smile like Toby, nor torrential tears like Marigold. It was sort of matter-of-fact. As if she were simply stating a fact. He didn't feel sorry for Beverly Wayne, instead, he read her tone as one of strength. "Naff 'n a half holiday, anyway." He said as if to move away from the conversation on Bev's dead mum. If he wanted to know more, Obituaries were at the London Magical Archives & Library. Mr. Wayne with all the money he had wasn't likely to be a low-pro name. This was interrupted by Majnun, spreading his black wings overhead and coming in for a landing. He dipped his beak into a bit of sliced sausage from someone's plate and devoured it like a boss then departed from the Great Hall having dropped off Cutty's latest shipment. "Yer done with yer breakfast? I got some imports in to show yer." He said wrapping his greedy little hands around the brown wrapped box.

"Of course," Beverly agreed coolly, going along. He was SUCH a boy. Too cool for a holiday, as if, but she'd let him go with it. Anything was cooler than Christmas. What with all of the cheesy holiday cards. People sending others presents in hopes to receive some in return. Pfft! Just go out and by yourself whatever you wanted. What was the need to wait for someone to buy it for you? And don't get her started on Christmas carols, just a big ball of NO.

This is sort of why she didn't make up an excuse for her dislike for the holiday. Beverly had a feeling Cutty wouldn't start with the 'I'm sorry to hear that' or whatever other pity party people usually threw at her. Popping more Pixie Puffs into her mouth, she nodded with a shrug.

She didn't say more as they were briefly accompanied by an owl. Her eyes studied the creature as it ate someone's food. Loser dweeb. Oh, a delivery. What ever did Cutty Mordaunt have there? Beverly wanted to know. She pushed the bowl of Pixie Puffs away and turned her body toward Cutty. "You have my undivided attention." Now show her.

Beverly was done with her breakfast. Just like that. And just what Cutty Mordaunt was hoping would be the reaction.

"It's probably my chocolate pyramids." He wasn't originally going to open up the box there and then before Merlin and everyone in the Great Hall. But, after considering the free advertising this was, he thought better of doing so. Cutty rattled the box and pressed his ear near to it to tease Beverly Wayne. "Or the Rainbow Serpent gums. Could even be..." He remained looking down upon the package as one hand flipped open one side of it's wrapping. "...Chocolate Sphinxes."

The still roundish fingers on his other hand inched up and flipped open the other wrapped side of the package. Reaching a hand into the opened side, Cutty pulled out the colourful box and removed the lid. Two out of three wasn't bad. The Egyptian chocolates, along with nougat and pistachio squares were evident. "Oh! Oh, you've got to be careful when opening up these things." He said rattling one of the chocolate Sphinxes, still in it's packaging. "If yer not quick, they'll fly away from you." And it gave on the sense of being a hunter.

"Bev, you understand mooney." He made this assumption as he lined up each of the sweets one by one for her to view clearly. "How much do you think I should be selling these fer?"

Beverly raised an eyebrow when he rattled the box then pressed it to his ear. She was cool and collected, but on the inside she wished he'd just dump the items on the table and let her get a look at them.

Oh...Rainbow Serpent gums...or Chocolate Sphinxes?

She...may be interested. Was he selling still? She had a few jewelry pieces on her person. Though, the silver band with little charms dangling of it on her left wrist was off limits. It was new, and for the first time she wasn't showing it off to Cutty Mordaunt.

Her eyes were on the Chocolate Sphinxes as he warned her about it. "Then I'd like those," she said, a glint in her eyes. It'd be a nice prank in the girls' dorms. Set off a bunch of flying Chocolate Sphinxes. Ha! Poor dorm mates.

Oh, he wanted to talk about money. Beverly shrugged a shoulder, along with a nod. She didn't care about money. It was the last, LAST thing on her mind. Actually, she couldn't even remember the last time she thought about money. She simply got what she wanted. But this was not just any money talk. It was business talk. Beverly Wayne liked business.

Pursing her lips and walking her fingers over each sweet in turn, she asked, "How much did they cost you? Because you don't want to sell them too cheap that it won't cover your original cost." Or too high or no one would buy, but she had a feeling Cutty knew that.

As the pretty snake girl fixed her eyes on the chocolate sphinx, Cutty noted the look along with the other expressions she held. Was that what it looked like when Beverly Wayne wanted something oh so badly? He let out a small chuckle and let a rare favourable comment loose, "Patience now, loov. You are first in line."

"Good point." He said hearing Beverly Wayne reason the cost. There was also shipment too, for those items came from afar and carried with them his avaricious intentions. The little pyramind shaped box which had been held in his palm with fingers wrapping around the outside of it was then placed down onto the surface of their house table as he said, "Eight sickles." A little more than the chocolate frogs but they were a rarity in these parts. The Slytherin boy's fingers released the pyramid box housing the chocolate sphinx and held out his hand, palm up for Bev's payment.

Beverly raised an eyebrow at him, more amused at what he had called her. It was Cutty Mordaunt, she'd let it slide. Besides, she was FIRST in whatever line he had designed. It's all that mattered. "I'm not a very patient person, Cutty Mordaunt," she said, smirking a bit as her gaze fell back on the sweets.

Following the pyramid-shaped box as he set it down, Beverly snapped her eyes back up a him when he announced the prize. "I should get a discount for advising you," she muttered, patting her pockets. Oh, right. Beverly Wayne didn't carry money around with her. Why would she?

Reaching for her earlobe, she unclasped a tiny golden owl earring, it's eyes minuscule rubies. She placed it on his greedy little palm. "This'll do until I get you money." Because she wanted sweets now and so she could share a few with Jeremiah when she saw him. He'd like these.