The Great Divide || OPEN

Friday, January 26, 1923
5:10 PM, Near the start of dinner

SPLAT!

For a moment, no one seemed to know what to say. There were many who didn't know the offence had even taken place. The hum of the great hall prevailed over the soft, squelching sound of mashed potatoes splattering onto the side of the second-year Slytherin's face. There was a breath, imperceptible against the noise as another typical day at Hogwarts sought to conclude itself.

Then came the scream.

Laura's voice cut through the evening's rhythm, forcing herself to the fore of everyone's mind as many turned to seek out the cause of the shrill scream that made utensils still and mouths close.

Kathryn didn't turn, not even when those sitting on either side of her began twisting in their seats. She knew the voice to whom the voice belonged and was not particularly invested in the distress it announced. Many would have been eager to find out what could have stirred the typically composed little girl. There may have been concern or a desire to revel in the screeching misery. Not her. The first year continued placing things on her plate.

"THAT'S FOR BEING A SODDING PIECE OF SHITE!" One Gryffindor boy loudly proclaimed as he jumped to his feet. A boy rose next to him, cackling as he offered him his hand for a high five. Many first years at the Gryffindor table burst into raucous laughter; a second hand of mashed potatoes sent soaring in the sudden uproar.

"YOU BRUTISH PIG!" Dorothy answered, rising indignantly to the rescue of her friend.

The girl reached for a chicken thigh that had been resting in Marjorie's plate, hurling it at the boy who dared assault their little clique. He ducked.

"OI! WATCH IT!" Someone shot, having evidently been the recipient of the cooked piece of poultry.

Still, Kathryn didn't look.

Posture straight, shoulders square, and blue eyes settled on the bowl of corn, the little girl gave no acknowledgement to the rising tide of chaos that swept its way through the great hall without warning. The factions that had lain hidden for most of the school's year seemed to crop up out of nowhere. The other Gryffindors needed no further invitation. The food the house elves had worked so painstakingly to prepare had indeed found its way off the many plates, but not for their intended purpose. They pelted the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables without prejudice, smacking any who hadn't managed to get out of the way in time.

Retaliatory fire was only natural. The tables answered with equal fire, nearly all students now out of their seats, whether they understood the cause or not. To an outsider, it would appear that the first and second years had suddenly and collectively lost their minds.

For some, it was nothing more than an unexpected injection of a bit of fun to end the week, but there were others who understood the lines that had been drawn beneath the noses of the professors. They understood that when little Harry Anderson rose and shot that mashed potato at Laura Cavendish, it wasn't a moment of spontaneous humour and trouble-making.

Many of them, on both sides, remembered the way Kathryn shook when her gloves had been yanked off her hands and dangled out the window in the corridor that led to the music room earlier that afternoon.

The memory brought the war.

---

OOC: It's a food fight, everyone! You don't have to know why the first and second years are beefing, you can just have your character caught in the chaos. If you'd like, though, you can absolutely have them know why and declare for a side. Everyone is welcome, no personal connections required. Honestly, it's a free-for-all, and anyone can hit or be hit.

"So anyways, like I was saying," Avery rambled on as he meticulously speared a slice of lamb from his chop. His housemates stared at him, blinking, their unending surprise at his ability to converse without taking a break still going strong. "Aside from nobody actually wanting to eat cold meat pies for dinner, lamb meat actually gets really waxy when it cools and coats your mouth. It's worse in gravy. The fat rises and becomes a weird skin on top."

He plucked the piece of meat in his mouth as he glanced up at the horrified expressions sitting across from him. He shrugged as he chewed, his shoulders rising slightly. "What? What did I say?" Lindsay pushed her plate away, while Gregory seemed to turn a little greener in the face, spitting his lamb out into his napkin.

SPLAT!

A scream rang out from further down the table, and the boy leaned forward and around Kathryn to see what all the commotion was.

To his absolute delight, it was Laura, now graced with mashed potatoes all over the side of her face. "Brilliant," Avery remarked, chewing excitedly as his eyes watched with interest. Gravity was a wonderful thing, and there it went, doing it's job, dragging the potatoes down the side of her rotten head and dripping onto the front of her pristine robes.

"THAT'S FOR BEING A SODDING PIECE OF SHITE!"

"Hear, hear!" Avery said, buttering another roll as he watched the back and forth growing with every second that passed. His house was buzzing, whispering among themselves about the two Gryffindors who had taken their shot at the nasty Slytherin girl. There was no love lost between Avery and Laura - or any of her clique for that matter - and he couldn't imagine a more deserving person to receive a pureed spud in the ear.

"YOU BRUTISH PIG!"

Poultry was launched next, smacking some random Hufflepuff kid in the eye. "You should see this, Kathryn. They're about to pummel Dorothy." His grin widened in realization as the first year Gryffindors suddenly shot to their feet, a barrage of food launching itself across the Great Hall towards the Ravenclaws.

Avery understood innately what it was about. For months now, Laura had rallied her little swarm of mean girls around Kathryn, bullying her at every opportunity they could find. Their latest offense having been snatching her gloves and dangling them out the window, knowing she wouldn't fight back.

Tension had been boiling ever since, and everyone knew Gryffindors didn't tolerate bullies well.

Avery sprang to his feet, quick to have it known that he was on the side of justice, and launched his overly buttered rolls directly at Marjorie.

For once, Morgan was grateful for the portraits that couldn’t keep their painted mouths shut. She’d been hearing the rumors about her sister – yes, she’d already been upgraded to full sister status by this point – and the group of bullies who insisted they were cooler than her. And the older girl had been counting down the time until dinner where she could check on Kate, even if it was just to lay eyes on her.

Morgan walked down the hallway towards the Great Hall, hearing yet another portrait speak about Kate and her gloves. No, she didn’t understand the girl’s desire for gloves all of the time, thought it was a bit strange herself, but never once would she actually bully her about it. Taking them from her was something that the Gryffindor would never even consider as an okay thing to do.

Even as a joke.

Yelling coming from the Great Hall caused her to speed up. She made her way inside to see potatoes and chicken, followed by rolls, fly through the air.

“What the…” she said and looked around at the faces of those who were involved in the current food war.

Dorothy. Laura. Marjorie. All of the ones who had been giving Kate a hard time since term began. She made her way towards her sister, dodging a chicken leg on the way. Kate was sitting still, her back straight, staring at something that had nothing to do with the food war.

Luckily, it seemed so far at least, Kathryn was untouched by the fight in general. No doubt she was one reason it was happening, but she hadn’t been the target of anything. Avery jumped up and launched a roll at Marjorie, a particularly nasty girl. “Good aim, you’ll have to try out for quid when it comes back,” she commented.

Morgan sat momentarily to look at the options of what she could throw. She had a lot of targets in mind, each one who had been anything less than nice to Kathryn was on her hit list.

Finally, she settled on roast potatoes. She spooned some out of the serving dish and onto a clean plate. Once there, and cooled for a second, she picked one up and launched it directly at the brat Laura. “Take that, you pathetic COW!” she shouted.

Sighing, Maevie pushed the same roasted potato over her plate that she’d been playing with for the past ten minutes, head in hand. She didn’t feel like eating, nothing seemed appealing. It had been going for a while again, this loss of appetite, ever since she’d run out of sweets and hadn’t found a way to get more. Slowly but surely sleep had slipped from her once more, night terrors had returned and a strange sense of loneliness had settled in.

Somehow she felt cut off from everyone else, like an invisible bubble she didn’t know how to penetrate. She tried. To be happy and fun, dancing through life like she always did. It just didn’t really work the way it used to.

Maybe she was just tired.

Her eyes lifted to the dishes lining the table. “Do you think they’ll still bring out the pudding?”, she asked, glancing at Benji and Rae. “Or did they run out—”

An ear-splitting scream erupted through the hall, cutting her off as she jumped a foot in the air. Immediate panic flooded her veins, heart thumping, eyes darting around the room to find the source of that screech. “What— Who—” Ever’s face flashed behind her eyes and Maevie quickly squeezed them shut, giving her head a shake.

"THAT'S FOR BEING A SODDING PIECE OF SHITE!"

Laughter erupted and Maevie opened her eyes, catching onto a crowd of Gryffindors. Now that more and more students jumped to their feet, it was easier to pinpoint the centre of the disruption, especially as food began to fly from table to table. Whatever was happening, none of it came close to having to be so panicked, and the realisation was both relieving and embarrassing at once.

Maevie sagged, rubbing the heel of her palm against her forehead. “Why are we throwing food?”, she eventually asked as the shouting grew more raucous, sounding almost exasperated.

Brooks had been halfway through explaining to the 3rd year Ravenclaw sitting next to him that American version of pumpkin pie was superior when the first scream cut through the Great Hall.

He looked up just in time to see mashed potatoes sliding down some girl's face. For a heartbeat, the entire hall seemed frozen. What the…?

Then all hell broke loose. Brooks grinned.

Food launched from the Gryffindor table in every direction. Rolls. Potatoes. The lions were savages. Brooks took in the chaos before joining in, impressed by how fast the entire student body lost their minds. Some took cover, most joined in.

A roast potato bounced off the shoulder of a Ravenclaw second year. Another splattered against the table. Brooks frowned. Hold on. Were they targeting Ravenclaw?

A wad of mashed peas whizzed past and exploded against the side of a girl's head two seats down, some landing on Brooks’ arm. That settled it. "Oi!" It wasn’t directed at anyone, more of a war cry to let others know he was joining in.

He shot to his feet.

Grabbing the nearest serving spoon, Brooks loaded up a glob of mashed potatoes and launched it towards the Gryffindor table. The first launch was a thing of beauty. A perfect scoop of mashed potatoes sailed across the hall and exploded against the chest of an unsuspecting Gryffindor.

"HA!" Brooks pointed. "Direct hit!" A second followed immediately after. Then a third.

Truthfully, he had no idea what was happening or why the fight began, but he was all in.
A roll struck his shoulder. Brooks whipped around. "Oh, now you've done it."

He seized an entire bowl of peas. Small little green balls, perfect for raining down chaos on unsuspecting students. Brooks sunk his hand into the green projectiles, pulled his arm back and let them fly. "INCOMING!" he yelled with a laugh.

A green barrage erupted across the Great Hall. Brooks laughed so hard he nearly dropped the serving dish. "THIS IS THE BEST DINNER HOGWARTS HAS HAD ALL YEAR!"

Like most nights, Matilda was sitting at the Gryffindor table, talking with her friends, enjoying the stories, laughing along with the jokes. Drago sat by her side, the silent anchor to her chatty effervescent personality. Two opposites, that much to everyone's surprise, were starting to make sense together.

Serik sat across from the pair, a typical third wheel that Matilda didn’t mind. She found it endlessly funny that Drago had to keep the two of them in line. Serik was much more accommodating to his older brother's orders. Matilda’s eyes got a work out with how many glares and eye rolls were sent his way.

She tried to keep it to a minimum, but he made it so easy.

”Ok, let me try again,” she said, looking down at her parchment. ”Good evening, it’s nice to see you.”

Serik snickered at her attempt. Pointing her fork at the boy she glared. ”Be nice, or no more cake for you.” She said, lifting her eyebrow in a silent challenge.

The Russian was slow going, but she was determined. She had added many words to her vocabulary, some conversational, others to needle at Drago. Which honestly was the most fun. His expression when she learned ”You’re like a weed.” Was priceless.

Taking a bite of her dinner roll, Matilda looked down at the parchment, trying to figure out where she went wrong. She didn’t like asking for help, wanting to get the words right on her own, but on occasion she would need assistance putting the vowels and consonants together to form the word that tasted weird on her tongue.

”Oh, I see. Is it, Good evening…” Her words were cut off as a splatter of mashed potatoes hit her on the cheek. Thankfully, not a full glob, just a bit of shrapnel from a nearby attack. ”What in the…”

"THAT'S FOR BEING A SODDING PIECE OF SHITE!"

And then, all hell broke loose. Food was being thrown from one end of the great hall to another. The main focus on the Ravenclaw table and a specific group of girls. Ahhhh, now she understood. The rumors had swirled, corroborated by Rae, Morgan and Benji. Kate was getting bullied and it seemed that the Gryffindor’s took personal offence.

Who was she kidding, her house didn’t need a reason to cause havoc and destruction. They thrived on it.

Matilda smiled at the mayhem, dodging a baby carrot from who knows where.

It had been awhile since a full on food fight had broken out in the great hall. She couldn’t hold back the smile, watching the harmless fun unfolding before her. Not one to miss out, Matilda started to stand, dinner roll in hand. Finding her target at the Ravenclaw table, naturally, she pulled her arm back to throw, not paying any attention to the man sitting at her side.

Sitting silently, Drago listened to Matilda’s attempts at Russian, offering only the occasional correction but otherwise not speaking much. She was getting better, slowly, but the fact she continued at all was reassuring. After their almost-fallout early December and his initial worries, at least this one relief was his — the fact that she’d come back around.

Nonetheless, his cooler demeanour remained, hardened after mother had passed. Responsibilities weighed heaver than before, requiring more resolve. Especially Serik.

 ”Good evening, it’s nice to see you.”

His brother snickered and Drago regarded him with a cool stare, arms folded on the table. He knew the boy wasn’t being rude, in fact it was good Matilda and him seemed to get along quite well. But as feared, after everything, Serik was even more unstable than before and required a firmer hand, now more than ever.

Catching his eye, Serik’s grin dropped.

”Oh, I see. Is it, Good evening…”

A shrill scream rang through the hall, halting everyone’s dinner as heads perked up, students twisting in their seats, nosy eyes searching. More shouting erupted further down the table, one student after the other springing to their feet and realization on what was about to happen hit a split second before chaos erupted.

Drago’s expression darkened. His gaze snapped to Serik immediately, killing the boy’s excitement at the root. “Sit your ass down,” he growled, staring his brother down until he was seated again, glowering. Having his brother involved in something as undisciplined as a food fight was the last thing he needed. Serik knew the stakes. He had talked to him.

And then his other problem rose to her feet.

Before Matilda could launch her missile across the room, Drago caught her wrist, pulling her back onto the bench. “No,” he said, gaze and voice firm as he took the roll from her hand, putting it on her plate instead.

The very last thing he needed was his betrothed, a future Zdravkova wife, to behave like a feral animal. He gave her leniency, but there was a line and this was it.

“You will not."

The evening found Rae in a less-than-stellar mood. The girl had been seething since lunch when she heard little pockets of whispers about what had happened to Kathryn.

It was getting out of hand and spoke to a more unsettling pattern that couldn't be tolerated: that second year, and her friends hadn't taken her and Benji seriously enough. Surely not. If they had, this business would have been squashed from all the way back in September when they'd put Kate's belongings on the Ravenclaw roof, forcing her, Benji, and Morgan to pay them a visit. On their end, Rae thought they'd been very clear. She hadn't shrunken away from putting her hands on any of them and had given them a preview of how much worse their Hogwarts years could be if they didn't understand the little girl was under real and physical protection.

Her boyfriend, who had the annoying principle of never putting his hands on a girl while Kaitlyn Dwyer walked free, hadn't had any qualms about making a statement either. But as with all things, terror only went so far, and they couldn't follow Kathryn everywhere she went. It was a big castle with too many ways not to run into someone if you weren't trying. It had made them comfortable.

They would have to fix that. For now, she bit into her shepherd's pie, trying to reclaim the joy of dinner while her blood still simmered.

“Do you think they’ll still bring out the pudding? Or did they run out—”

She glanced over at Maevie. The girl hadn't seemed herself that evening. Very mopey and unengaged with everything around her. "If they don't, we can always—"

The scream was...shrill.

Seeing the way the Hufflepuff reacted, Rae instinctively placed a hand at her back while she twisted in her seat to find out what new fresh hell had convinced Laura Cavendish that she deserved everyone's attention at dinner.

"THAT'S FOR BEING A SODDING PIECE OF SHITE!"

Ah, sweet Harry Anderson. Sometimes, Gryffindors could be useful.

Rae watched the great hall quickly descend into chaos, her badge providing no incentive for her to step in. She'd seen the shame and humiliation in Laura's reddening expression as she wiped the mashed potato from her face. It was the only language the girl might understand. Far be it from her to get in the way of a proper education.

“Why are we throwing food?” Maevie asked.

Rae removed the hand from her back, offering the girl a dinner roll instead. "Because hexes would get us more nights of detention. Look alive, Maevie. We're putting a little rich bitch in her place."

She didn't need to look at Benji to know he would understand the assignment, too. There were too many professors on the dais for them to explode the girl once and for all, but a harmless food fight could still do damage to the ego in the right doses. "Get her friends, too."

Lettuce fell in her hair, a part of a salad that was hastily thrown. She picked it up, enlarged it with a simple spell, dipped it in gravy, and then sent it flying toward her own house's table. It slapped right into the other side of Laura's face, the girl receiving a disproportionate amount of the assaulting food – as she should. There was no love lost, and this reason was as good as any.

Well, that didn't take any time at all.

Maddox watched from his slouched position next to his wife at the dais as the Great Hall shifted from the calm of the evening meal to end the week into utter mayhem. They'd been doing so well, the man thought. While there were still little pockets of mischief here and there and plenty to keep him busy with all the candy craze, it had been a while since the student body had collectively decided to make something his problem.

Blue eyes shifted to the Gryffindor table, the unsurprising epicentre of the eruption, but the dull anger never came.

It didn't take long for Maddox to understand the situation. Like the students, he'd also heard about the happenings of the afternoon. The Gryffindors had taken up the cause. He couldn't tell them he was proud, not in the earshot of anyone who might accuse him of enabling misconduct, but there was a swell inside his chest watching the misguided chivalry take the shape of pelted food.

Someone should stop them; someone really should.

He wondered who that someone would be as he swivelled the chilled pumpkin juice in his goblet. Whoever took up the task would have quite a bit of work ahead of them. "The pudding's lovely; have you tried it?" Maddox asked, his head lolling to the side to take in his wife while he ignored the insult his daughter hurled across the room.

Then he heard Morgan.

Usually, he preferred his children see trouble and walk the other way. It made his work easier, kept them out of harm and left him with fewer grievances he would have to reconcile. A grown man could hardly be seen holding grudges against children, as he no doubt would do the moment one of them hurt one of his. Morgan was an impulsive child who often jumped into things before thoroughly thinking it through. This time, the man was inclined to look the other way, a part of him pleased to see how well Morgan had taken to protecting her younger sister.

Now, could they have been more subtle? Certainly. He hadn't appreciated the report that his daughter had helped to beat a group of first and second years in September. But justice called a bit louder and promised him what he couldn't, on his own, accomplish.

The chaos grew as more and more students rose to take up the call. Maddox thought he could see lines forming and sides being drawn. Disappointingly, there were a few of his lions who found themselves on the wrong side. He would express his disappointment appropriately later.

"We should take some back for the boys."

He saw nothing.

"Brillian."

What was brilliant? The question would have to remain unanswered for the little girl who refused to look.

"THAT'S FOR BEING A SODDING PIECE OF SHITE!"

Harry.

Harry hadn't been in the corridor when her gloves had been stolen, but he'd passed her a silly note in the middle of History of Magic with the words "Gryffindor stands with you". Kathryn had folded the note neatly without ever looking back at the boy. She'd neither understood the message nor thought there was need to. Those who sported the scarlet and gold robes had many tendencies, the little girl had learned. One of them was participating in nonsensical things. They brought noise and chaos wherever they went, with exceptions far and few between. The note had read like some cryptic form of recruitment that she'd wanted no part of.

Recruitment for what? She didn't know at the time but thought she was understanding now. It never occurred to her that the boy's actions were on her account, the first year being unable to draw the link between the action and the outcome.

"Hear, hear!"."

That had her turning, but not to the fight. Her gaze landed on the Ravenclaw boy beside her who'd chosen to participate in the nonsense, verbally at first but then physically. What did he think he was doing?

"You should see this, Kathryn. They're about to pummel Dorothy."

Were they?

Against her better judgement, she too turned in time to see the assault on first the Slytherin and then the Ravenclaw table. Her eyes widened, though imperceptibly for most as the scene erupted. Broccoli came flying at her, but Avery, springing to his feet when he did, unwittingly blocked them. She could see the danger then. Soiled clothing and messes in their hair – the scene wrote itself around her as her peers became splattered without a care in the world. Morgan got a bowl of gravy poured over her head for her trouble, and the serious Russian boy who'd only tried to prevent his girlfriend from partaking wound out with a face full of pumpkin juice from a Slytherin with bad aim.

Laura had her own friends, friends who sprang into action the moment they realised just how targeted the fight was. Nothing was sacred. Liquids, semi-liquids, and entire pieces of meat took to the air. All the while, Kathryn shrank in horror.

She took Avery by the elbow, trying to get him to sit in an attempt at regulation.

From the Gryffindor table came a clatter. Several of the students had worked together to tip the table so its surface faced the rest of the great hall. It was unfortunate for those who'd only wanted a peaceful dinner. Involved or not, everyone's meal spilled to the ground while the Gryffindors took cover from behind the table.

"FIIIIIIRRRREEEEEE!"

It was an ominous warning that preceded an enlarged boil of mashed peas being catapulted across the great hall toward the Slytherin table. Its contents spilled the whole way, splattering indiscriminately as they went.

They'd all collectively lost their minds.

A single eyebrow arched above honey-brown eyes, not a hint of amusement crossing her lips as a shrill scream rang across the hall. Her elbow perched on the table and her index finger tapping lightly at the sight of her cheek, Julia watched the chaos unfold before her from her safe place on the dais, the Great Hall falling to the whims of Maddox's unruly Gryffindors.

Food flew in every direction, shouts and curses accompanying all of them as a table turned over to act as a shield to the destruction that was unfolding. Laura Cavendish and her little group sat in the center of it all, covered in mashed potatoes, peas and every other edible that the poor house elves had gone to so much trouble for today.

The scandal. The horror. The indignity of it all.

Someone should fetch an adult.

A quiet heat boiled in Julia's chest, the events of earlier in the day still fresh on her mind. As an adult, she ruled her own emotions with an iron fist when it came to children that weren't hers. Despite her instinct to go full mother-bear and rain hell upon those who would bully and torment her child, she knew her actions surrounded the adults that had raised these creatures, and every single one of them would feel her quiet wrath, wrapped in decorum and social hierarchy.

In the meantime, as Julia's gaze followed Morgan, she couldn't help the sense of pride that took hold. Justice always found its way, didn't it? She and Maddox hadn't raised children that shrunk from confrontation, and while her eldest daughter could do with a little more finesse, Julia had to admit it seemed....right.

Perhaps it was bad parenting. But who was going to chastise her? The little Slytherin girl who couldn't keep her dirty little hands to herself? That apple certainly hadn't fallen far from its headless tree.

"The pudding's lovely; have you tried it?"

Julia finally turned to meet the gaze of her husband, a twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips. They were always so in sync weren't they? Maddox didn't play about his children anymore than she did, and while she had her ways, he had his. Neither of them were interested in stopping this oh-so-unfortunate war that had broken out. It truly seemed like it was someone else's problem.

Julia wasn't in the business of proctoring, nor was she in the business of the custodial arts.

"Now, now," she tutted at his suggestion to take the pudding back to their boys, "You know what happened the last time Benji gave them pudding." Her eyes had cast back to their eldest son who was launching himself over the overturned Gryffindor table with what looked like an entire roasted fish in his hand.

She knew she loved that feral boy.

Without looking, her wand rose, flicking towards their youngest daughter and snatching her robes with an accio.

Kathryn flew across the hall, a handful of said pudding splatting against the side of her face, just before Julia caught her.

His stomach growled as they got closer to the Great Hall. It had been a long day and all he wanted was a hot meal and then a drink with his wife before bed.

Gideon made his way toward the Great Hall at a leisurely pace. Behind him came Roisin and Fiona, his wife moving slower these days thanks to a baby who seemed determined to make every task more difficult.

The sounds reached him before they arrived at the doors. Shouting, cheering, something breaking, then more cheering. Gideon slowed, legitimately scared to open the large oak doors.

One hand pushed open the door, causing an explosion of sound and side dishes to greet him upon entry. Food flew through the air with impressive accuracy, a bread roll nearly hitting the floating candles, someone was standing on a bench lobbing handfuls of cooked carrots. Someone else was using mashed potatoes like bombs. Somehow there was gravy on the ceiling.

Gideon's eyes moved slowly across the room, assessing the situation like he was back in the war. Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw. Gryffindor vs. Everyone. At least a few staff members were on the dais, doing nothing to stop the situation. If he wasn’t mistaken they almost looked to be encouraging it through their inactivity.

Students were laughing, screaming, ducking for cover, returning fire.

It was when he saw a pie being thrown like a frisbee that he shut the door, drowning out the cheers and cries of foul play. Blissful silence. The muffled sounds of warfare continued from the other side.

Roisin and Fiona arrived beside him, Gideon looked at the door, then at his pregnant wife and daughter. ”Nope, we’ll be eating in our quarters tonight.” He said, grabbing a hand from each and pulling them back down the stairs to the dungeon.

"The Great Hall is no longer under my supervision.” He said, as another muffled crash echoed through the halls.

Let the Headmaster sort it out. Or the Ministry. Or Merlin himself. Whoever currently held jurisdiction over that portion of the castle, because it surely wasn’t him. This was well beyond his pay grade.

Once inside his living quarters, Gideon immediately summoned a house elf. "Dinner for three. And if anyone asks where I am, please tell them we decided to eat in.”

The castle was still standing. That was good enough for him.

Benji's eyes hadn't moved from Laura Cavendish from the moment Rae had sat him down at the table.

He'd internally raged from the moment he'd gotten wind of what had happened to his sister, the earlier message he, Rae and Morgan had delivered to the mean-girl group having apparently fallen on deaf ears. The bullying had been going on far too long for his liking, and he couldn't wrap his head around anyone finding thrills in torturing a mute little girl that wouldn't fight back.

It was disgusting. If there was one thing Benji had always loathed, it was bullies, and since his first message hadn't been received cleared enough, he was ready to serve a second.

"THAT'S FOR BEING A SODDING PIECE OF SHITE!"

Benji didn't react, his eyes only following the airborne potatoes until it smacked the side of Laura's face. He'd been approached earlier in the day by Harry, a fire ant of a first year, informing him they intended to take matters into their own hands. Benji hadn't responded, fine with whatever the younger years had planned in defense of Kate, but the boy had ideas of his own.

It was his job to protect her and to ensure that these little shitheads finally got it through their heads that she wasn't their punching bag.

“Why are we throwing food?"

His girlfriend explained first, hand on the girl's back, comforting her over...he wasn't quite sure. Maevie was unusually down today, and while he'd normally have been eager to cheer her up, his mind had been elsewhere. Easily remedied. He nudged his younger friend with his elbow, offering her a hard-fought smile. "C'mon Marge. Time to see what you're made of." Hufflepuffs were loyal, not cowards or soft like some liked to think. He took her by the arm, helping her to her feet, while he nodded for Rae to hop on his back.

"Coming?" he grinned at Maevie, as he picked up an entire roasted fish, eyes intact and all. Not for long. He couldn't wait to watch them splat all over Marjorie's face. As soon as Rae was settled, Benji took a running leap, launching them over the overturned Gryffindor table, taking a splash of pumpkin juice to the front of his robes and a smattering of creamed corn to the side of his face.

None of it slowed him from his mission. It felt like slow motion as his feet hit the ground again, his girl slinging spells wildly from his back as he swung and slapped Marjorie across the face with the fish. She screamed, falling back from the bench and hitting the floor, covered in bits of fish and its juice. She screamed obscenities, but the boy was focused. As his sister flew from the Ravenclaw table, the boy brandished his wand, dodging an entire platter of airborne carrots. He flicked his wand at Dorothy, the wretch. "Slugulus Eructo!" he shouted, as an enormous slug suddenly spewed with force from the girl's mouth.

Rae hopped off, as he gave her an encouraging wink. "Get 'em babe," he said, and he rounded the Slytherin table, rushing for Laura before she could see him coming. Benji, as a rule, didn't put his hands on girls, especially younger girls, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

In one swift movement, his hand was on the back of her head, and he shoved, with more force than was probably necessary, her face splashing down into her thick soup. Her boyfriend, Anders shot up from the table, reaching for Benji, apparently thinking he'd do something about it, but Benji was faster, snatching the boy up by the collar.

"You and I are gonna have a little chat." Man to man. As a roll bounced off Benji's head, he dragged Laura's boyfriend by his robes, out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.

"Because hexes would get us more nights of detention. Look alive, Maevie. We're putting a little rich bitch in her place."

Maevie glanced up when Rae’s hand disappeared from her back, holding out a dinner roll instead. Taking it, she frowned. “A little rich bitch?” She scanned the hall again but by now it was hardly possible to make out what was happening or who Rae meant. To her at least, it all looked like total chaos.

Had she missed something important? The past week had felt like a haze, she hadn’t had the capacity to pay attention to the castle’s happenings but it had to be something big if the entire school decided to participate. Or maybe people simply loved to throw their food.

Maevie ducked beneath a flying sausage. "Get her friends, too," Rae said, tossing an enlarged lettuce leaf at a girl at the Slytherin table. Eyes growing wide, Maevie looked between her and Benji.

"C'mon Marge. Time to see what you're made of.”

The older boy pulled her to her feet, eager to get her to join the fight but Maevie wasn’t sure. Her mum always said to not play with food and this was worse than anything she had ever been admonished for. What if they all got detention? The ones she’d earned for being caught with the candy had been plenty enough already and surely the professors were going to put a stop to this soon?

As Benji set off, Rae on his back, fish in hand, Maevie still stood, searching the staff table. Mr. and Mrs. Barlowe were just sitting there, as though nothing was happening. Weren’t they going to do anything? Where was the Headmaster? Were they waiting for him to deal with this instead?

Her thoughts were interrupted when a load of mashed potato hit her straight to the chest.

For a moment she was too stunned to move, looking down her front in disbelief.

She should just leave, right? Or wait it out? Mum wouldn't be happy if she heard she'd gotten into more trouble again.

But all the chaos, the noise and laughter and energy buzzed against her body like it was trying to lure her in with the promise of a little bit of ecstasy and maybe she wanted that. Maybe it would be fine.

Heart beating, Maevie searched the space one last time.

Fuck it.

Picking up a chicken thigh she drew back and tossed, aiming for the girl’s head Rae had targeted earlier, already reaching for the next. It was the only target she knew, so one by one, chicken thigh by chicken thigh, Maevie flung her ammunition in the same direction, feeling the laughter begin to bubble up her throat.

Chaos. Normally Morgan thrived on it, but in this case she didn’t. Not really. She, Benji, and Rae had confronted the group of girls who had decided to target Kate at the beginning of term. While she hadn’t done anything except swing her bag of rocks as if she was ready to beat them with it, she let Benji do the talking and Rae do the physical threats.

Morgan and her bag of rocks was something the whole school knew about when she took down a sixth year when she was a simple firstie.

"THIS IS THE BEST DINNER HOGWARTS HAS HAD ALL YEAR!"

The gravy was still dripping down the side of her face when Morgan finally found him. Her eyes narrowed when she assessed his situation. She wiped some gravy off her face before she made her way to her best friend who was clearly completely clueless about the real meaning of this food fight.

If Kate being bullied wasn’t the start of this, honestly she’d be enthusiastic like him. But really… this was war in her mind.

Morgan grabbed him by the arm and pulled. Hard.

“Walk with me,” she said, the usual lightness in her tone nowhere to be found. Without even waiting to see if he’d follow her, she pulled him to the edge of the hall where they weren’t in the line of fire and he could hear her clearly. This was important.

Morgan turned to face him, gravy dripping down the sides of her face.

“You’re firing at the wrong people,” she said, her voice flat. “The Gryffindors started this on purpose. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins firing back… most of them are the ones who’ve been bullying my sister since September.”

The reason for the bullying was there, just below the surface, but Morgan refused to dwell on it. She held his gaze.

“Kate. They took her gloves today. Dangled them out a window. She uses them because… well, it doesn’t matter why. Point is they knew exactly what they were doing.”

Her eyes searched his, her face completely serious.

“We already paid them a visit in September. Apparently it didn’t stick,” she added. “So you gotta fight on the right side.”

He had no choice. If for some stupid reason Rook decided to fight against her, she would wipe her hands clean of any friendship she had with him.

This was his single greatest day in Hogwarts history. Granted, he had only been in the castle since September, but this would be hard to beat. I knew he was in for a detention, but so was the entirety of the school. And looking at the raised dais, there were professors watching the entire thing go down with no intervention.

Maybe, just maybe, they would get away with it.

Suddenly, he felt a tug and heard Mysty’s voice. “Walk with me.” She said, pulling him away from the protection of the Ravenclaw table. Looking her over, a smile tugged at his lips, laughter sitting just below the surface. “Mysty. Who did this to you? I saw some pupkin soup that I could retaliate with.” He said, still moving.

“You’re firing at the wrong people. The Gryffindors started this on purpose. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins firing back… most of them are the ones who’ve been bullying my sister since September. Kate. They took her gloves today. Dangled them out a window. She uses them because… well, it doesn’t matter why. Point is they knew exactly what they were doing.”

Looking around the great hall, he could see it now. The bulk of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs were aiming at a group of girls sitting at the Ravenclaw table. He didn’t know them personally, but believed Mysty and the things she said.

“We already paid them a visit in September. Apparently it didn’t stick. So you gotta fight on the right side.”

They were still close to the Ravenclaw table, and Brooks had an idea. “Listen, you go back over there. I’m going to retreat behind enemy lines for a little mutiny.” No one would be the wiser, since he was a Ravenclaw. They would just assume he was helping the mean girls.

“Just tell your friends to keep pelting them. I have an idea.”

Crouched down, Brooks moved around the mounds of food and scattered dishes. Land mines in the field of battle. He slipped more than once, trying to get to where he needed to be. Along the way, he gathered his ammo, looking for specific things, to make it worth his while. The chaos was still going strong, rolls raining down like bombs, peas and mashed potatoes splattering all around him.

The unfortunate part of food fights was that aim was spotty at best. You could try and peg someone in the face with a meatball, but more often than not, it wouldn’t hit where you aimed.

The Slytherin and Ravenclaw students at the center of the conflict were clustered together, making his targets easier to find. He didn’t know their names, but the smorgasbord of food covering their clothes was a good indicator on where to focus his attention.

Finally, just a few feet away, Brooks took the large pitchers that once held ice water, long since spilled on the floor, but now held a mixture of creamed spinach and fish stew. A vile concoction that caused him to gag repeatedly.

Knowing that he would be a target the minute he stood up, didn’t stop him. One pitcher in each hand, filled to the brim, Brooks stood and hopped over piles of food. Hurrying up behind the group he tipped the green clumpy mess over the group that was huddled behind the table. The green smelly sludge oozing down their hair and into their clothes.

“That’ll teach ya to pick on others. Have fun getting the smell out.” Dropping the pitchers, he made a break for it, running for cover and the safety of his friend.

THWACK

Before he made it far, a direct hit took him down. Covered in what looked like blood, but he soon realized was marinara sauce, Brooks laid on the ground and groaned. His demise was worth it, if it, just to see the looks on the mean girls faces when they smelled the green goo running down their faces.

Aww, yes. Best. Day. Ever.

The words blurted out in Russian were her first clue that Drago did not approve of what was happening in the great hall.

No surprise there. The room was devolving into mayhem before their eyes. Before Matilda was able to get a throw in, Drago had grabbed her by the wrist, and was pulling her to the exit. “No. You will not."

Matilda pulled on her arm, trying to get away, laughing at the absurdity. Was this how a pure blood woman of society was supposed to act? Hell No, but she wasn’t in society at this moment. Right now, she was a kid in school defending her friends. That was all that mattered.

It happened fast, a splat was heard before the target registered. A juice of some sort splattered all over Drago, causing Matilda’s eyes to go wide. She could only imagine how horrified he would be, but thankfully, he dropped her arm. With a look of apologetic amusement on her face, she said a quick, "sorry." before running back into battle.

Scurrying back over to the overturned Gryffindor table, she grabbed a few dinner rolls, dunked them into the ice water and squeezed. The doughy bread mixed with water would make a lovely bomb, and easier to throw than mashed… well, anything.

With her small pile of projectiles, Matilda straightened enough to see the battlefield. Most of her intended targets had taken refuge behind tables or taller students. One after another, she threw the water logged rolls over towards the girls who deserved every bit of the retribution they were getting.

Served them right for picking on Kate.

She knew she didn’t have long. Drago would come back for her eventually. The lecture would be worth it, she would never be the girl standing in the shadows while other people got their hands dirty. When her friends were involved, she would fight. Full stop.

Before he got the chance to even try and get Matilda and Serik away from what was quickly devolving into pure chaos, Drago felt the impact of it himself. A splatter of cold juice, straight to the face, startling him enough to let go of Matilda. For a split second he just stood there, eyes closed as he tried to keep the bubbling in his chest from rising. Whatever was wrong with this school, they needed to start fixing it. This was getting ridiculous.

Jaw tightening he wiped a hand down his face, opening his eyes only to look into Matilda’s gleeful face. Right before she set off at a run. And because one wasn’t enough, Serik decided launching an entire roasted chicken across the room was the right thing to do after being told the opposite, completely swept up in the havoc raging all around, his older brother forgotten.

Drago took a breath.

Matilda’s reaction he could somewhat justify. She didn’t know better. This was the school she’d always visited, the life she’d grown up with, behaviour she was used to. And apparently even social standing didn’t prevent from falling down this spiral, because was that Benji Laurence riding into battle with a whole fish in hand?

Maybe this was just what Britain was. Watching, Drago had never felt more like an outsider.

But no matter. Serik had been told what to do and had decided to disregard it. As much as he loved his brother, Drago couldn’t ignore what so obviously stared him into the face any longer. Something needed to happen. Instead of trying to drag the boy out of trouble again, this time Drago let him stay to feel the consequences.

Searching the hall, he looked for Matilda.

He spotted her crouched behind a table, shooting whatever at whoever, Drago didn’t care. Losing no time he strode through the clusters of students continuing their war, having to shove some fifth year out of his way to make it through the crowd, ducking mashed potatoes here, a slice of meat there. At least he reached the redhead. Without pausing or even saying a word, he threw her over his shoulder and calmly carried her back towards the doors, more splatters of food hitting them left and right.

Once outside, he didn’t plan on stopping, determined to carry her all the way up to Gryffindor tower if he had to but then another sight stopped him in his tracks.

“What are you doing?” His eyes darted between Benji and the boy he had in a headlock, struggling to get free. This didn’t exactly look like a fair fight, scrawny little legs and all. His brow furrowed. “Why are you fighting a child?”

He ignored Matilda’s suddenly beginning protests, his arm across her legs firmly locked in place, the fists to his back not enough to deter him in any way.

Ruth Anaya was a chaos gremlin and an impish one at that.

It hadn't taken long for little Harry's actions to set the entire Great Hall on fire – metaphorically; they weren't trying to be expelled afterall. All that mattered was passing along a message that wouldn't be so easily forgotten this time around. It was probably poor planning on their part, cornering the girls and intimidating them where eyes hadn't seen and they could pretend – with time – that nothing had ever happened. This was a different beast entirely. This was loud; it was obtrusive.

It was the sort of humiliation that she didn't expect Laura and her little group to forget any time soon.

They would leave Kathryn alone or they would never know peace. This? This food fight that none of the professors seemed keen to end? It was only the beginning of even bigger woes should they decide that they wanted to be persistent.

Was Maevie coming? Even with the bread roll in hand, she seemed confused about what might have been happening. It was hard to blame her. To someone who lacked the proper context, this really was sudden and inexplicable chaos. It was madness; it was anarchy on a level that even her head of house – grumpy man that he sometimes was – hadn't wanted to deal with it.

Honestly? Good.

This wasn't about the professors.

They'd had their chance to cool the rising temperature. They'd had their chance to teach that little girl what was and wasn't acceptable behaviour at Hogwarts. Now, it was the students' turn. They got to decide how the message was passed along, and they had chosen violence – food violence, but violence all the same.

Rae climbed onto Benji's back the moment it was offered, but not before grabbing a pitcher of pumpkin juice to take with her.

There were spells flying, some of them her own that had joined Benji's. A stupefy here, a tarantellgra there, it really was dinner and a show. The mild night had turned into an epic action reel, complete with Benji taking them both right over an overturned table. Now this...this was war.

Hogwarts kids knew how to do it right.

"Get 'em babe."

She would. Rae gave Benji a quick kiss on the cheek for his trouble before hopping off his back and turning her wand immediately toward the little Slytherin who'd become the target of the room. It was funny, watching them crowd around her. It was no doubt a result of promises to reward them should they protect her from further fire.

Nah, she could fight her own fights.

Rae used a knockback jinx to get her little clique out of the way before grabbing Laura by the robes and yanking her from her hiding spot. Laura screamed, but it was lost in the greater din that had settled over the room. Everyone was screaming; she could join the club. "Heard you like taking things that don't belong to you." Rae poured the pitcher of pumpkin juice over the girl's head, ignoring fish that Marjorie sent flying into the back of her head. The Slytherin prefect was of a singular mind and not so easily distracted, but if her friends weren't careful, a knockback jinx wouldn't be the worst of their problems.

Rae shook Laura.

"Heard you can't keep your hands to yourself either. We're gonna fix that, aren't we?"

"Now, now,. You know what happened the last time Benji gave them pudding."

Maddox grimaced at the reminder. How could he forget? That had been a night plucked directly from the deepest part of hell, and while he and his wife had gotten over that particularly unfortunate...bump, it wasn't something the man was looking to revisit. Pudding was, in theory, a fatherly gesture. It was a little treat for the boys who hadn't been able to join them for dinner. That fatherly love he held didn't need to come at the cost of his sleep or his peace. The elves had already prepared the boys their dinner. There really wasn't any need to complicate things.

The Gryffindor Head of House took another sip of his pumpkin juice, his eyes lazily sweeping across the room. Somehow, his lions had managed to tip over their table. Nothing was ever too much; there was no such thing as a step too far.

Merlin bless them.

It would be quite the mess to clean later, and he supposed someone would have to hand out detentions when it was all said and done, but that all sounded like a worry for the headmaster and the morning. His posture, slouched in his chair, should've been indication enough that the man saw this not as a problem for him but for someone else. Julia was of a similar mind. While he knew she'd been seething for the better part of the afternoon over the news of what happened to Kathryn, his wife had been doing a fine job of keeping those frustrations to herself. It could only mean one thing. His wife was only ever so calm when she already had plans for retribution brewing.

He couldn't wait to see where her path took her.

In an instant, a small body came flying toward the table. Maddox, at first, thought someone had blasted someone over – he'd seen Elliot knock those first and second years off their seats – but quickly recognised that it was Kathryn.

Julia had the right of it, even if her methods were likely to further stir the girl. It had already been enough chaos for her for the day.

As the little girl came flying over the dais, Maddox conjured for her a smaller chair to sit between him and her mother. Seeing the poor state the girl had arrived in, he offered her a 'scorgify' for good measure. The hair he would leave to her capable mother.

"Wasn't that Blackwood just now?" he asked, a finger uncurling to point toward the door.

"Solidarity on all sides. Can't say I blame him. This is quite the mess for MacLean to sort out when he gets here." The poor man. He had all of Maddox's sympathies but none of his assistance.

Duplicating his plate, he slid it across to Kathryn so she could resume getting herself dinner.