#26 Breakfast

Before entering the Great Hall, Martha had paused in the Entrance Hall for a moment. From where she stood, the noticeboard was obscured by a sea of students who clamoured to see how they had ranked. Some came away happy, some relieved and others had been visibly upset.

Her stomach had knotted and she knew then, she would rather wait for her results during the summer. She didn't need to see how badly she stacked up against her peers. So she sat at the Hufflepuff table and anxiously twirled hair around her finger.

Martha's mind raced. A hundred different possibilities were popping up and each time she worried they could be true.

She closed her eyes, placed her hands flat on the table in front of her and took a few, slow and deep breaths. She needed to calm down before she went into anxiety overdrive. Despite trying, her leg still bounced under the table but Martha had long given up on trying to curb that habit.

As long as she got good enough grades to pass into sixth year and take the subjects she wanted or needed to proceed after Hogwarts... Then everything was going to be okay.

Inhale. Pause. Exhale.

Martha opened her eyes again and started to pick a few, simple to eat items for her plate - a croissant, some butter and jam, a spoonful of scrambled egg and some fruit. She still had a bit of packing left to do (and then unpack and repack to make sure she had everything) so she didn't want to linger in the Great Hall for too long.

Orla noticed immediately that she was the only one wearing her robes, but that was alright. She loved her robes and their many pockets; wearing them kept her relatively chill-free in the more drafty parts of the castle. Underneath them though she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, both of which had seen better days.

There was mending to do over the summer, but that would have to wait.

Orla took a seat at the Slytherin table just as the owls arrived. She didn't look up as the scant flock went about their business - she was still stewing in annoyance over the rankings. 

As she grabbed a steaming pastry and stuffed it into her mouth, she looked around at the Ravenclaw table for MJ, disappointment slumping her shoulders when she didn't spot her.

Orla chewed sadly, worried for her friend.