The Great Hall was filled with the rich aroma of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.
Ron pulled Gavin toward the end of the long table nearest the doors, moving a schoolbag aside to make room.
Harley sat down beside him, tapped her fingers lightly on the wooden table, and turned to Ron with undisguised impatience in her eyes.
With a sheepish smile, Ron pushed half a sliced pudding toward her.
Gavin picked up his fork and looked at the cold potatoes and roast sausages on his plate.
He was truly exhausted.
Did he really have to start another revolution in the kitchens?
His silver-and-green-trimmed Slytherin robes stood out sharply amid the scarlet and gold.
Two older Gryffindors beside him visibly frowned and shifted their plates away from him in disgust.
But with Ron loudly making him welcome, Harley sitting beside him, and the conspicuous smear of blood at the corner of Gavin's mouth, no one challenged him outright. They merely cast him a few strange, piercing looks.
His cutlery had barely touched the bottom of his plate when Ron nudged him gently with an elbow and jerked his chin toward the entrance.
"Look over there."
Hermione hurried through the doors, holding the package of treats wrapped in greaseproof paper.
Draco walked two paces ahead of her, a thick, battered Hardcover Dark Magic Book tucked under his arm. His pace was brisk, with no intention of waiting for her.
Harley's brows, which had just relaxed after securing her pudding, knitted together again the moment she saw Hermione following him.
Ron moved the tall copper pitcher blocking the middle of the table, giving Gavin a clear view.
Draco went straight to the Slytherin table, pulled out the bench, and sat down.
Three or four seats around him were empty.
None of the