Lucca Faraldo's Story

Light ripples across the blue waters of the island’s cove, setting the waves aflame as the swells of water race towards the golden sands of the beach beyond. Half of the beach remains untouched, pristine stretches of sand racing down to meet the lapping salty waters. To the left, however, several small jetties have been constructed, floating on the waves and offering a safe docking space for the collection of magical ships arriving. The dock is only temporary, conjured up by staff for the arrival of the school’s students. Once the last has arrived the beach will be returned to its previous state, the swish of a wand deconstructing the floating pier in the blink of an eye.

For any muggles who catch sight of the yearly migration of ships, they might wonder where the sea faring vessels are going. The island is invisible to muggle eyes and technologies, blanketed by powerful spells that render it unmappable and undetectable. Yet, for those with magical blood running in their veins, they know exactly where the boats go and why. Above the beach, perched on the edge of the overhanging cliff, stands Orion Institute of Magic, a school dedicated to the education of young witches and wizards from around the globe. The castle gleams in the setting sun, appearing to sparkle as if its walls are littered with diamonds and crystals. The school’s flag flies from the Western tower, flapping in the sea breeze and proudly displayed the school’s crest – the Southern Cross constellation enclosed in a silver circle of vines with a pair of crossed wands beneath from which the words “To Learn Is the Highest Power” appear to be produced.

For the new students on the arriving boats, this is their first glimpse at their home for the next year, and an impression that will live on long after they have left the school. Awed gasps can be heard from some of those younger students, while the older students look on with smug expressions, their eyes already leaving the stunning castle above to scan the clear waters below. There, a dark smudge beneath the waves can be seen, flying through the water’s depths. There’s movement to the starboard side, barely caught by any who aren’t paying particular attention – just the flick of a tail and then calm again. A second later a shriek is heard from the front of the boat, small hands of the frightened first years pointing at the water monster emerging from the depths.

Long enough to wrap around the ship multiple times, the beast shares many similarities with dragons. Its skin is covered in glistening, dark multi-coloured scales, which seem to change shades as it swims from patches of sunlight to shadows cast by clouds high above. Above water the light also reveals the beautiful patterns engraved onto the beast’s scales. Sharp claws extend from its fore- and hind-legs, as long as many of the first years gapping in fear and astonishment on board the vessels are tall. Large, intelligent eyes blink up at the boat, its mouth opening to reveal rows of deadly teeth as it belches out a shriek. Spines stand to attention along its back, following the movement of its body as it slides through the water towards the boat. Just before the beast reaches the ship it picks up speed, causing more than a few of the new students to stumble backwards in fear as if it were about to smash into the ship's side. Then, to a series of gasps and startled shouts, it leaps from the waters, arching itself up and above the boat, the length of its body curving over the deck, before splashing back beneath the waves on the other side. From there it disappears down, a series of loud cheers and clapping erupting from the older students for its show.

On board the boats the knees of the first years shake, their eyes wide as they attempt to come to terms with what they’ve just seen.

“It’s a dragon… a- a-… a water dragon.” One mutters in bewilderment, no doubt questioning why a school would keep such a beast so close.

“No, it’s a Taniwha.” Another replies, possibly a resident of the neighbouring Island chain of New Zealand, from where the magical monsters originate.

The returning students grin on, confident in their knowledge that the cove’s Taniwha acts as guardian and protector of the school, and perhaps remembering their own first sighting of the beast. Many believe that the Taniwha’s appearance at the start of every year is his idea of a joke, a playful way to welcome the new students to Orion. For the rest of the year he – fondly nicknamed Moe because his full name is hard for many to pronounce – remains largely out of sight, apart from the odd glimpse of a tail or leg slipping beneath the waters.

Needless to say, once the shock wears off the new students and an older student has explained the situation, there’s no stopping the excited chatter. Yet, there is much more to see, and before long the students have left the boats. Carriages pulled by invisible steeds carry students up the winding path to the castle, while the first years are treated to flying hippogriff pulled carriages which zoom around the golden castle at an astonishing pace.


Just as the sun finally sets, the first years are set down and ushered into the grand hall. There wonder again sets in and necks crane up to inspect the charmed ceiling above. At first glance one might simply assume that the night sky outside has been reflected in the high ceiling of the hall, yet a second glance will show you there’s much, much more to behold, for the ceiling is alive with moving constellations. The crab of cancer scuttles behind the harp constellation of Lyra just as the dragon which gives house Draconis its name glides by. A school of sparkling stars in the shape of fish glimmer in and out of view as they pass swim around the figure of Hercules. Most stars can be seen in the ceiling at at least one time in the year as the ceiling seems to shift hemispheres on a whim. However, of all the constellations, only one is notably absent, both in the ceiling above and in the night sky, Orion the Hunter.

Yet, none of the students can be faulted for not reflecting on the constellation's absence at this moment. For, of equal interest to many is the large array of food spread across the four house tables, waiting to be devoured by the hungry witches and wizards. The feast is always a highlight, and every year the kitchen elves go to great lengths to provide a truly remarkable meal. Everything from roasted vegetables, chicken drumsticks, and mouth-watering burgers to creamy puff pastries, raspberries cakes, and lemon tarts stand ready on the tables. The only thing keeping the students from reaching out and starting their meal is the watchful eye of the school’s headmistress and her accompanying teachers. They sit at the head of the hall, patiently waiting for the first years to file in so that they may be sorted. Only then will a short welcoming speech be given before permission to eat is granted.

The sorting, thankfully, does not take an extraneous amount of time. An old hat is brought out, baring a striking resemblance to the sorting hat used by Hogwarts School. And in fact Orion’s was modelled on Hogwarts’ sorting hat many years ago. However, since its creation the hat has picked up several habits, such as dropping the occasional swear word into its yearly song and insisting on being addressed as ‘Daisy’. No amount of magic or persuading can get it to stop swearing, and the students have come to be fond of this little quirk. Daisy usually receives a raucous applause after any song particularly heavy in unsavoury language. Applause too is given as the new students are sorted into one of the four houses, older students clapping them on the backs and cheering as they move to join their tables. Then, after ‘Robert Zueqo’ is sorted into Draconis, the hat is removed and Headmistress Syborn stands.

A hush descends on the hall as the witch gazes out, her smile warm as she addresses the pupils, “To our newest arrivals, welcome to Orion, and to our returning students, welcome back.” Her voice carries across the hall, while her eyes dance from face to face. “I can see that many of you are already eyeing the lemon tarts, and I will not be the reason to prolong your wait.” A cheer goes up from some of the students, the hungriest no doubt, and Headmistress Sybron waits patiently for the noise to die down before she continues, “However, I would first like to remind all students and inform our new pupils, that unsupervised magic is prohibited, while the forest and beach are out of bounds unless accompanied by a teacher. Professor Savea informs me that the island’s local unicorn herd has several new additions and asks that anyone who happens to come across them, to please be respectful and give the young foals space.” Syborn pauses, her eyes gazing around at individual faces as she lets her message sink in, when she is sure that it had she smiles and raises her hands, “Alright, you may begin.”

That announcement receives a loud cheer, one that becomes progressively quieter as the students pounce on the food. And this is where we start out story, sitting among friends and filling out bellies.

Lucca always feels as though he is going to vomit on the first day back to Orion. No day has been quite as bad as the very first one, of course, when he did not know a soul and basically cowered afraid in any corner or shadow he could find until people sort of forced their way into his life. Force isn't an entirely fair term, as their initiative to enter it is one of those things for which Lucca is eternally grateful. He was always a kind of shy kid, hiding behind the back of his brother, and since he was nine that has only gotten worse. Friends have tried to prod him out of his shell, using his love for watching people and their passions as a rather reasonable tool, but only in small increments has he begun to open up. It seems his social anxiety will never fully leave him, regardless of any efforts made.

This is why he feels so uneasy today. He is excited to reunite with school friends, of course, but that excitement mixes with the nervousness of seeing so many people, especially the new ones, making a cocktail of squeamishness within his stomach. And the rocking of the boat hardly helps on the journey there. The only reason he had been able to face the boat ride his first year was for even greater fear of drawing attention to himself. Even today, he finds a corner of the boat to close his eyes and pretend that he is on solid ground. His hands squeeze tight around a pack of trading cards in his pocket. Many of them are worn from being held, having been among that first deck his mother gave him for his fifth birthday. The trading card club was the first one Lucca could pluck up his courage to join, because he had that small safety net. Even though he still speaks very little even to other club members, he has found himself to be at ease among them.

Once the feast has begun, however, Lucca is able to distract himself with food and friends. He can count his close friends with one hand, leaving fingers to spare, but is at least able to smile and nod and listen to most of the people in his own house without beginning to feel nervous. Even with the new first years, he begins to feel a sense of kinship as some smile and some try to make themselves as small as possible. He was certainly in the latter category years ago, willing himself into invisibility.

Even as he listens to others, Lucca's eyes dance over the heads to the other tables, looking for Leo, or Aidan, or- his eyes briefly meet, entirely accidentally, with those of Miss Adeline Butler. She probably doesn't even notice the exchange herself, but his face promptly goes scarlet. Lucca ducks his head and temporarily gives up on the search until his face has returned to it's normal pigment. For now, he takes a drink of water and frowns at his own general stupidity.

Lucca may be conflicted about the first day back at Orion, but Andromeda Quillen is always more than happy to return to the beautiful castle. After all, while she may not detest her family as some of the other pureblood children seem to, Andy doesn't always feel entirely comfortable in her home. With the rotting woodwork, fading paint, and background music of arguing parental units, it hardly feels like a warm bed to relax in after a difficult year at school. Quite the opposite, it always seems as though she is going on vacation when returning back to Orion. The sight of Moe's shadow beneath the boats, the gasps of awe coming from the various first years- they all greet her like the meow of a distinctly affectionate pet cat. Of course, she released Pines a bit ago, for he seemed more inclined to fly back to the castle and stretch his wings. Andy wishes she could whip out a broom and join him. She recently saved enough money to purchase her own broom, meaning Draconis's Keeper won't be the only one riding a school-owned broom this season.

For this she is grateful. Seeing her teammates getting new, top of the line brooms every year had begun to sting the girl's ego. She has always felt embarrassed about the state of the family fortune. It isn't necessarily the lack of money, but the fact that it was lost due to laziness and stupidity, and every british wizard born to magical parents knows it. Though her name is ancient, there are those purebloods who look down on her for the pitiful state her parents live in, holding themselves like kings when their kingdom is degrading to little more than a collection of moldy wood. And she is their princess, fulfilling the material needs of others at some school on the other side of the world. What honor is there in a few heirlooms if they live in dust, just waiting to be pawned off? There is a reason Andy doesn't frequently bring up her parents, though her name may earn some friends within Draconis.

At the feast, new housemates, and perhaps new customers, find their way to the Draconic table, which roars with each name claimed, and mutters with dissatisfaction for every Phoenicis. Outside of the Quidditch pitch Andy cares little for House divisions: they are all potential customers to her, after all. She gladly pours a glass of Cranberry juice at the end of the speech, and leans to listen, wicked smile dancing at the corners of her mouth, at the tales of some other student's exciting, expensive summer vacation. She does not begrudge people this gloating, instead inserting funny little remarks throughout the tale, investing herself in the conversation such that she needn't actually contribute with her own tales, which don't stretch much beyond hanging out with some other British purebloods, mostly Leo the little cub she's been around since childhood.

Glancing at one of the newer Draconis, who practically reeks of family gold, Andy sees no shame in advertising. "Just let me know if you guys need anything the school doesn't offer. I'll give you a house discount," she winks in that conspiratorial way which makes people feel let in on some great plot.

All day excitement had been a palpable emotion. The young witch had been fizzing with anticipation as she began her annual migration from her suburban muggle home in the suburbs of Melbourne, Australia, to the magical school of Orion. A short car ride to the harbour, a wave good bye to her parents, and an exchange of promises to write often, before the muggle born was boarding one of the enchanted ships that would carry her towards friends, magic, and her second home. Her bag was heavy with a packed afternoon snack her parents had insisted she take with her, the book of quidditch moves she had ordered over the holidays, and of course, all her clothes, textbooks, potion cauldrons, and more.

Her broom too made an odd sight, partially wrapped in protective bubble wrap as a precaution against any bumps that might mark its smooth surface. Her broom was by far Adie's most prized possession, bought last year after months of saving her pocket money and pooling her birthday and Christmas present allowance together. She can still remember the feeling of running her hands over the smooth wood, and knowing that this was hers. The first ride had been thrilling, and bubbling laughter had spilled from her lips as she had taken a lap of the school's quidditch pitch.

The holiday break had been the first time Adeline had had a decent quidditch broom at home with her (far better than the second-hand Southern Comet she had been given in second year by her sister who hadn't taken to flying at all), and she had been practically dying of impatience to visit her Aunt and Uncle's house.
They lived in the middle of nowhere, on a small farm with towering walls of eucalyptus trees that made a perfect practice pitch for the eager flier. It was there that Adie had spent hours practising every trick her quidditch book had to offer, at times convincing her older sister to join her so that she had someone to practice with. Mariah was not a natural flier though, a talented witch with endless potential when it came to casting spells, brewing potions, and so forth, but put her on a broom and she was like a fish out of water. Still, Mariah was better than no one.

Adeline's own home, situated in a comfortable middle-class suburb of Melbourne, had nowhere to fly without attracting the attention of muggles, and so, when they had returned back from her Aunt's home, Adie had felt the lack of flying as if she'd lost a limb. Mariah, taking pity on her little sister, had surprised Adie with tickets to one of the Tri-Nation Quidditch matches. Despite being called 'Tri' the competition actually involved at least six international teams from the southern hemisphere, and Adie was lucky enough to witness the clash between the New Zealand Silver Brooms, and Australia's Flying Wallabies. Even though Australia had lost to their trans-Tasman rivals, the high of the match had carried Adie through the rest of the break. Now she was eager to trade holiday gossip face to face with her friends. Letters, sent regularly to her closest friends, could only do so much to describe her enthusiasm. She had described the incredible moves of the New Zealand seeker over writing to Leo Duan, but what she really wanted was to give him a blow by blow commentary in person.

That was why, as Adie bounced into the Great Hall with the horde of other returning students, she was eagerly looking around for Leo and many of her other close friends. Though, the difficulty with being of short stature was the limiting view it offered her. Standing on her tiptoes gave her a slightly better view. Was that Leo's dark head of hair bobbing away from her? She shakes her head as the student takes a seat at the Draconis table, before golden curls catch her attention next. Mac? Or Emma? Again Adie is left in disappointment as the curls turn out to belong to a fourth year wizard. With a sigh and a small pout Adie decides it might be best to wait until after the sorting, when everyone is seated and the wall of black robes isn't such a large hindrance. With that thought she takes a seat at the far end of the Phoenicis table, paying equal attention to the food in front of her and the nervous first years being sorted by Daisy.

When Headmistress Syborn gives permission for students to start their meals, Adie gives an enthusiastic clap before loading her plate with goodies. Her parents may have packed an afternoon snack for her trip, but Adie hadn't touched it because she'd known that this magnificent feast was only a short trip away. Now she happily gorged herself on the array of deliciousness spread out before her, favouring anything with sugar in it. It may not have been the most nutritious dinner, but it certainly tasted amazing. As Adeline pulls another few sugared ginger-snaps and frosted raspberry cupcakes towards her, her eyes begin to scan the hall. She's searching for her friends, though her gaze catches on a few other faces too. Lucca Faraldo, a shy young man in house Centaurus meets her gaze. Adie offers the boy a smile and a wave, though she is unsure if he catches the greeting as he ducks his head quickly. Without thinking anything of it, Adie casts her eyes down the length of the table, quickly catching sight of several faces that she's been aching to reunite with since their separation at the end of the last school year.

Palming several lemon tarts - her favourites - Adie pulls herself from her seat and glides down the length of the table. An empty seat beckons her and she plops herself down in it as a grin spreads across her face. She's just in time to catch the tail end of Emma and Mac's conversation and she lets out a happy laugh, "They're right, I'm surprised you haven't cleared the whole table yet. Though, if you're still hungry Aidan, mum packed me some delicious vegemite sandwiches. I saved them just for you." Adie plasters an innocent smile on her face, knowing full well that Aidan doesn't think there is anything 'delicious' about vegemite. Turning slightly, Adie lets her gaze travel happily around her fellow Phoenicis team mates, "How were your holidays?" Seemingly unable to wait until after dinner, Adie leans in and adds with clear excitement in her voice, "I learnt a new quidditch move in the holidays that I can't wait to show you. We are going to wipe the floor with the other teams this year."

"Crush still going strong, I see."

Lucca would absolutely be more than okay if the professors suddenly decided they were in a foul mood and dismissed everyone to their dorms to stay in their bed until given further notice. He adores Hana, he truly does, and her being willing to initiate conversations is invaluable in their friendship given that he is often at a loss for how to do so with even his closest of friends, but she always manages to know precisely what to say in order to make him nervous. To be perfectly fair, I didn't start liking her till last year so I mean still is a strong word, he stumbles over his thoughts even when they are for his listening only, the poor sap. Of course, poor devoted Lucca doesn't realize that most people don't have such longstanding crushes. Before Adie, he had been enamored with a girl who graduated last year. Some people are simply prone to long, intense crushes: the somewhat awkward boy is plagued by this tendency.

The young man grabs a roll and obscures the bottom half of his face with the needlessly massive baked good. His eyes finally flick over to Hana, still watching him in that mischievous way of hers. There is no winning against the girl, Lucca by now knows this. He studies the small imperfections in the bun as though they are newly discovered constellations, imprinted their exclusively for the viewing of his starry eyes. "I- Well- yeah," he finally manages, looking up at Hana, waiting for her to tease him in some manner or another. It's inevitable, he knows- she's just like Leo in that manner. At least people have yet to tell him how entirely hopeless the affections are, given Adie's vivacity and popularity. He already scolds himself far too often over it to be able to withstand the well-intentioned warnings of others on top of it.

By the time he realizes he's doing it, Lucca's hands are already caught up in his own hair. It's a nervous quirk of his, one not uncommon to people in general, to mess with his hair when nervous. Thus he fiddles with it distractedly before finally smiling, deciding with slightly uncharacteristic initiative to change the subject. Directing it towards Hana is perfectly in line with his character, at least- he is one of those few who enjoys hearing people talk about themselves.

"Anyway, How was your summer?"


When Lito chimes in to offer a recommendation of Andy's business, several of the female first years begin listening with a renewed interest. Andy is caught between the instinct to smile at the advert and the desire to roll her eyes, and ultimately finds herself doing both. Of course, it is that crooked smile of hers, more sincere than a smirk but lopsided in such a way that makes it seem less than earnest. She could likely beam with complete and honest interest and still be taken as sarcastic thanks to this little lopsided aspect to her smile. Only an open mouth smile prevents this, and the young woman is of the opinion that these are only permissible when laughing. Luckily she does laugh frequently, often at the expense of another person.

Lito may still be talking but Andy is distracted by the fresh face beside him. Starting the year off with an acquisition? Oh you sly dog, his little sigh and disappointed glance towards the transfer student throws doubt at this little assumption of hers. It doesn't matter a good deal to Andy, of course- Lito may very well go ahead and mess with every person in the school, so long as they can keep up their constantly jesting friendship. Andy, while fond of flirting and sex and the like, is of the mind that friends are far more preferable than romantic interests. If you like someone enough to date them, wouldn't it be even better to be one of their closest friends? Given the various romantic plights and drama throughout the school, it seems some do not quite agree with her, or are too taken in a less than friendly way to adopt the Andy Quillen school of thought.

"I can give you a private one after dinner," Andy grins and tilts her head just so, allowing her to look at him under her lashes flirtatiously. Those who know the two are aware that this is not to be taken seriously. First years, however, wonder at the relationship between the two.

"As wonderful as that sounds, lovely, I worry that you wouldn't have the stamina to give me a satisfactory. . .reading," the effect of this, and the suggestive wink that it ends with, is completely ruined when she wiggles her eyebrows in a less than alluring manner. They are caterpillars come alive, as Andy is incredibly proud of her ability to manipulate them.

Andy winks in response to Aria's nod, and happily listens to the somewhat eccentric girl's warning. "Oh Aria, I'll gladly wander into your fairy cave," she teases across the table. If there is one thing some people may take issue with in Andy, aside from her shady dealings, love for dares and bets, flexible morals, and tendency to poke fun, it is the fact that she seems to communicate one third through teasing and flirting. It's simply far more fun a way to speak to people, especially when it gets them flustered.

The first full day of school dawns bright and early, sunlight seeping in through stain glass windows and falling on students eager to start the day ahead – or go back to sleep. Many enjoy their final hours of freedom before class begins, knowing that as soon as they sit down to learn, assignments and homework will mar their free time. As eight a.m. rolls around, most students can be found pulling themselves from bed and making their way to breakfast. Some eager – or unlucky – few have been up since the crack of dawn, the Phoenicis Quidditch team under the direction of their captain having woken before the sun in order to get a jump start on the other houses’ teams. Now, however the delicious smells of pancakes, bacon and eggs, porridge, and every other breakfast treat one could imagine seems to permeate the air. Any first year who has already forgotten the path from dorm room to Great Hall need only follow their nose.

The heavy double doors stand at the rear of the hall, directly opposite the teachers’ podium and bracketed by two large carvings – one a likeness of the Taniwha Moe, the other a carved map of the night sky with the cluster of stars known as matariki (the Pleiades) centre stage. On the wall either side of the doors hang the house banners, indicating which long table belongs to which house. To the far right upon entering one finds Centaurus, with Draconis right and centre. Pegasi house stands left and centre, with Phoenicis against the left wall. While the house segregation is strictly maintained during dinners, and in particular feasts such as the welcome back feast of the night before, breakfast and lunch are another story. Students are free to sit at other houses’ tables. One will commonly find most students grouped at their own house table, merely because this is typically where their close friends sit, but for those who wish to diversify their friend group, Orion allows for movement between the benches. It’s not uncommon to see Draconis sitting with Centaurus, or Pegasi beside Phoenicis. Students may roam where they please, though for the first day back it also pays to mind the Head of Houses.

The first day’s breakfast is when timetables are handed out by each house’s head. Most of the heads are able to recognise their house members, and for those who don’t and for the first years, the difference in colouring of their uniform offers a key clue. Centaurus students wear their clothing embossed with the mossy green and warm gold of their house. Draconis have a clear blue and dark bronze as decoration, while Pegasi have a softer lilac and silver combination. Students in Phoenicis house can be found with scarlet and black edgings to their uniform. Professor Dew, Head of Pegasi, can be seen gliding between the tables, stopping to hand out timetables to her students with a smile. She knows all by name and will often pause on her way to enquire after a student’s family or break. Her first years are welcomed with a calm smile and a note that if they have any problems, her door is always open. Centaurus’ head, Professor Favreau, looks as if he’s still half asleep. A piece of toast hangs from his mouth and when he finds a Centaurus student he can often be seen scratching his head as he searches through his collection of timetables. He too knows them all by name – or most of them at least - though he has been known to make up fond nicknames for his favourites. Across the hall Professor Maddox grins as he shares a joke with a Phoenicis student. He seems to view the handing out of class schedules as a competition with victory going to whoever can see all their students sorted the fastest, though he keeps getting distracted as he shares sarcastic banter with the louder members of his house. His attitude is perhaps the complete opposite of Draconis’ dignified head. Professor Jones of Draconis does not hurry, yet she is possibly the most efficient, handing out schedules with a nod of approval or a simple ’See me after breakfast to sort out this issue.’.

For the older students, their schedules are designed around the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T examinations they will be sitting at the end of the year. Some sixth years, having done terribly in one subject or another, are unable to meet requirements for their preferred topic and must pick another, while others sit tall with pride at having received near perfect marks (the majority of these seem to be found in house Centaurus). Other students are eager to look over their timetables and compare classes and schedules with friends, while others lament over a packed day and not enough free periods. Whatever your mood and wherever you find yourself sitting, there is sure to be much to discuss. The first day back is always exciting, and even the stars reflected in the enchanted ceiling above seem to be brimming with energy.

Given the choice, Lucca would be the sort of person who easily sleeps until past noon on weekends, and barely wakes up in time for class on school days. He'd discard any spare moments of anxiety and instead spend them in the embrace or strangle of his dreams, the risk-gain odds being easier to face on some days than those present in morning times. He would be the last person to arrive, such that there was never any need for awkward conversation and waiting for things to pick up. Everyone would already be there, laughing, and he could merely slip in and enjoy the radiance that slips out from the gaps between their fingers. Well of course, ideally he'd be among them, the sort of person able to reach out and grab at the sun without fear or reservation. But he is not so unrealistic as to aim for such status. He is glad to watch the light peek out from somewhere in their mind, through their smiling eyes.

He'd be satisfied just to be a late riser. Instead, poor Lucca, with all of his anxiety, is the sort who springs awake with the sun, and is incapable of falling back asleep no matter how hard he tries. In this sense, he'd be a perfect fit for a quidditch team, ready to start the day when it is still young. Instead he gets ready as soon as awake, and then tries desperately to occupy the time until breakfast. Read a book. Start a letter to mum and dad. Go for a walk- this is the best time for it, when everyone else is asleep. Do some light unpacking. Anything to distract himself from the thought of someone waking up and wondering why Lucca is awake- "What could you possibly be doing at this hour?"

And then he remembers. Of course, the music room is open at all hours before curfew. Already showered, clothed, and ready for whatever class he may have on this first day of school, Lucca heads to the music room to greet an old friend- one of the school's multiple pianos. As in all things, Lucca is a very shy sort of musician, and thus early morning presents a unique opportunity for him to play without the creeping fear of someone wandering in and discovering him. He hates nothing more than to be praised by strangers for his playing, because it turns him bright read, weighs his tongue even more than usual, and forces awkward interaction which half the time makes the poor young man want to vomit. That being said, one of his best friends had been met in that very situation- Aidan Zeller, so it can't be all as bad as he fears. Nothing really is, and he to some extent knows this; that's what makes the anxiety even worse. The knowledge that he is panicking over nothing, but can do nothing to stop it regardless. It makes him feel constantly stupid, no matter how many Outstandings he may earn.

So he sits at the piano and plays, mostly just messing around and making up little tunes on the spot. Matteo had always been the better player when they were younger, and likely by now would have been one to have girls melting in his arms by composing little songs for them. Meanwhile Lucca is happy for a secret concert for an audience of none, while he plays with both hands and tries to ignore the fact that this might have been the way the keys would have looked had it been him and Matteo, playing a solo together with each representing one hand, as they used to play at as kids.

By breakfast time Lucca has been playing an hour, but has no inclination to stop. The breath of air is too welcome, too necessary, for him to be tempted away by the thought of food, especially given the concern of arriving first and sitting alone. The hunger in his stomach is no match for the weight on his shoulders. So he enjoys the air here, even with the slight sourness it comes with. After all, to someone who has spent their entire life in the city, the bitter air might seem perfectly fresh. Such is Lucca's state of mind.

Lucca loves duets and orchestras, loves to watch people work together. But solos can sometimes make it so much easier to breathe, even with the lonely look of the keys that cannot be tamed by just two hands.

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The early bird catches the worm, but Andy is really more of an owl and does her best work under the cover of night. Already a few Pegasi girls have come to her requesting some of those nifty temporary love potions from that one shop back in Diagon Alley. Andy is more than willing to put in the order with a friend of a friend. Orion hasn't become as cautious about such packages as Hogwarts must have been back when her parents attended, and this makes Andy's job all the easier, much to her pleasure. The girl may be one always keen on a challenge, but easy money is never something the girl is one to argue with. Some of those who aren't her fans have accused the girl of being greedy and loose moralled, scolding her for the value she places on money. They are entirely correct objectively, but she couldn't give less of a damn, and often responds by throwing her arms around them and cheerily telling them to bugger off before she sneaks something mostly harmless into their morning pumpkin juice.

Not a lot of people are willing to mess with the girl, despite her unintimidating size and seemingly all cheer expressions. And for good reason.

Even a gal like Andy needs her rest, though, so she is far from the first to arrive at the Draconis table in the morning. Certainly there are those later, and those who sleep past breakfast entirely, but Andy will never be the most morningy of morning people. Hair still slightly damp from her wash and her handy dandy notebook in her cloak pocket, enchanted such that only she may see the contents via writing various passwords down in her rather distinct handwriting. Another package, a colorful box, is tucked beneath her arm.

As the girl walks in, she is delayed by Professor Jones.

"While I look forward to seeing you in class, Miss Quillen, I do hope you intend to focus more on the pursuit of knowledge this year," no teacher has been yet to concretely prove Andy's crimes, the girl being an amateur mastermind, but they all have a very good idea that she isn't exactly on the straight and narrow. Andy smiles back, sweet as you like, and takes her time table. "You know I quite Agree, Professor Jones. Knowledge really is the only thing worth pursuing, you know I've been considering going into teaching- wouldn't it be grand if I were to become a teacher and worked with you? I especially-"

Professor Jones unamused and interested in finishing passing out the timetables, cuts her off with a slight motion. "Yes, yes, Miss Quillen. I'll see you in class," and she is off, never rushing but always timely.

Andy grins and then catches sight of a familiar Draconis boy shoveling food into his mouth with no less grace than a monkey. She slides next to him and drops the colorful parcel in front of him. "Not to interrupt your admirable attempts to force New Zealand into rationing, but I've come bearing gifts. It's a muggle strategy game called smash- oh, wait. More importantly, if Lucy Rodericks or Casey Blair try to give you any foods this week don't take them."

Properly distracted, Andy takes a slice of toast and spreads a very generous amount of raspberry jam on it.

The first class of the year had been slow for most of Orion’s students, with everyone trying to ease their way back into the beat of school. The teachers, of course, had other ideas than to take it slow, and while some students moaned about the homework that was already being set, others looked forward to expanding their mind. Those who were still in holiday mode quickly settled in to the rhythm of class. That first class flowed into the second class, which then became the third, until a whole week had passed and to most students it felt like they had never left. That first week became two, and before anyone knew it almost a month had gone by since school started.

It’s now been three and a half weeks since the ships docked in the bay, and while many people in the northern hemisphere are pulling out the extra blankets, the southern half of the globe is happily in the midst of spring. Orion looks magnificent in any weather, but it practically glows in spring. Wild flowers sprout up around the edges of the forest, and more often than not bright coloured petals can be found decorating the waters of the magical waterfalls that send down buckets of liquid on unsuspecting students. The baby unicorns have been seen wobbling about the school lawn from the windows, while a pod of bottle-nose dolphins spent the last week playing with the taniwha, Moe, in the harbour.

Of course, none of that is quite as exciting as the prospect of the first trip to Mākutu, the magical village which shares the island with Orion. For those old enough to attend this trip was long awaited. Mākutu is always a treat, no matter how many times one has visited. Nestled on the other side of the island and only a short walk through the forest, it consists of a small collection of stores that sell everything from magical and muggle treats to spell books and novels. Most, if not all, of the stores can be found along the main thoroughfare, with the houses of the residents either occupying the upper storeys of the buildings or snuggled behind. In the centre of the town is a quaint square or cobblestones. A statue in the middle of the square depicts a tall, broad shoulder man of Polynesian descent with a wand in one hand and a magical compass in the other. As the plaque beneath his effigy read, the figure is the Mākutu, the wizard who found and settled the island centuries ago. His gaze fixes on some spot in the distance, as if seeking out his next adventure.

For many, their sights are usually fixed on the Honey Pot, an adorable café by day, and quaint bar by night. It’s here you’ll usually find students and islanders alike taking shelter from the rain, or merely stopping by to try their island-famous honey mead. Praised as the nectar of the gods, or the lovers’ drink (usually only by those who have had several more than they should), it will warm your belly and soothe your worries. It should be noted that students are forbidden from consuming alcohol in the village, though light beverages like butterbeer are allowed to the older students. Thankfully, the Honey Pot offers delicious non-alcoholic alternatives for the younger students, and their hot chocolates are divine. Though, if you’re an inquisitive student or know the right people to ask, you might find your way to the outskirts of the village where the Rusty Ship Wreck stands. While it isn’t a ship, the dingy pub is rather rusty, and locals have taken to calling it ‘the Wreck’ for short. Here, if you’re discrete and don’t irk the owner, a student can purchase and enjoy almost any beverage he or she desires.

It is places like these that have the third years buzzing with excitement as they wait by the school’s main doors to be officially allowed out. It’s their first year being able to explore the town, and most have made sure that they’ll have the whole Saturday to do so, their eagerness seeing them rise early for breakfast when for most a Saturday normally calls for a lazy morning. The older students, most of whom find the pull of the town less consuming, are still all likely to indulge in a trip through the woods. Why not? It’s a chance to stretch your legs, stock up on unhealthy, sugared goods, and possibly share a virgin honey mead with your crush (legend has it sharing the drink brings a couple closer). So, though the third years jump in excitement, they aren’t the only ones waiting for Professor Li and Professor Patel to start ticking off names and allowing students to leave.

Permissions have to be checked, particularly for the third years, but eventually the students are allowed out, and in no time Orion’s pupils are streaming into the village. There is no uniform needed to be worn today, so many of the students wear their own clothes, of which vary between the mundane and decidedly muggle, to the odd and hilarious. No ignorant muggle would be able to walk through the village without stopping in their tracks to gawp at one student, at least. Thankfully, no muggle has ever stepped into the village in living record, which is reassuring for the islanders. Of course, had our protagonists known about the series of events that begin to unfold on this inauspicious day, perhaps they too would have wished never to step foot in Mākutu.