#for freckle

Another school year was starting, and the Great Hall was filled with boisterous students anticipating (and dreading) their first classes. Flanking the hall were tables for Gryffindor and Slytherin, a study in contrast between the charismatic and feigned indifference. Between them were their respective peacekeepers, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. They sat back to back, the stalwarts between historic rivalries.

“OHMIGOSH! The magical world is so cool! Look at those candles! THEY’RE FLOATING!!” 

The exclamation echoed from a small brunette at the Hufflepuff table. Her green eyes sparkled with joy in the glow of the candlelight as she tugged on her musically themed scarf enchanted to keep her hair tied back at all costs. She exuded a practiced nonchalance despite her near hysteria.

The Ravenclaw first year bit her tongue trying to tune out the excited Badger behind her. They’re floating because they’re charmed. It’s a charm.

“OHHHH! The food just appears! Why can’t my food just appear at home!? Does this mean we don’t have to do dishes? I hate doing dishes.”

She felt a tick appearing at her eye. Did this girl never breathe? Surely once she starts eating, she won’t talk. Besides, the food is sent and summoned by Elvish magic. Didn’t the girl read Hogwarts: A History? Maybe that would be a good welcoming gift… Nope. Nope. Breakfast.

“Nothing beats Muggle inventions though.” Now the girl had the attention of her table. The Muggle-born witch was currently surrounded by witches and wizards at least raised in Wizarding Britain, and despite not being overtly prejudiced, they were at least curious. The chipper witch started explaining pens with practiced ease, but got in over her head in no time at all, as she moved on to more sophisticated technology.

“It’s for leftover food, okay? It’s a plastic and metal box… Plastic is like metal, but softer, kind of… and there’s a lightbulb in there, and your food spins, and after you punch in the time you want it to reheat for, it’s done! But sometimes it’s cold in the middle… It’s REALLY GREAT, okay!?”

The girl heard an infuriated sigh come from behind her. It was odd though, since no one appeared to be obviously listening. There was a solitary Ravenclaw witch sitting to her back reading a book. Maybe it was her? 

“You're wrong. Entirely wrong.”

The girl turned around, brown eyes flashing in annoyance. Her hair was braided back in a single plait, and the Hufflepuff witch swore she saw purple embedded in the brown.

“A microwave is a Muggle kitchen appliance that heats and cooks food by exposing it to microwave radiation in the electromagnetic spectrum, sort of like putting a stasis charm on hot food. This induces polar molecules in the food to rotate and produce thermal energy in a process known as dielectric heating, which would be infuriatingly difficult to explain over breakfast. I can source you Muggle books on the subject if you’re that interested. Microwave ovens heat foods quickly and efficiently because excitation is fairly uniform in the outer inch and a half of a homogenous or high water content food item; food is more evenly heated throughout, except in heterogeneous, dense objects, than generally occurs in other cooking techniques.”

Circe’s womb, what is wrong with me!? Okay, walk this back. Slowly. Calmly. STOP BLUSHING DAMMIT.

Before the Ravenclaw could apologize and flee, the Hufflepuff witch shrieked with delight and flung herself at the bespeckled brunette.

“You and me are going to be BEST FRIENDS! What’s your name? Your favorite color? I like yellow, so this House suits me. Is yours blue?! THAT WOULD BE SO COINCIDENTAL! Oh, what are you having for breakfast?? Are both tables the same-- ”

Before the girl could get one more question out, the Ravenclaw had wiggled to freedom, grabbed her bag, and fled to her first class- Potions in the dungeons.

The Hufflepuff laughed to herself, “This isn’t over, friend. You and I are perfect.”