George offered reassurance—they were probably just being suspicious, right? Sadie chewed her lip, glancing back up at the Head Table. The Headmistress seemed impassive, tucking into a roasted pumpkin. Professor Sprout looked cheery as ever, regaling Madame Hooch was a tale, hands dancing as she spoke. 

Niall didn’t look convinced. His brows had furrowed, blue eyes still watching their professors, like he didn’t trust them. She couldn’t imagine why not. Her professors seemed lovely—although Professor Binns’ voice was very difficult to listen to without feeling drowsy—why should she distrust their judgment? It wasn’t like she knew enough about this world yet, anyways.

“I guess,” he said finally, shifting his gaze over to the Slytherin table, as if he were trying to make eye contact with someone. He nodded his head towards the table and shrugged. Sadie resisted the urge to twist around in her seat and see who he was looking at.

“Are werewolves common, then?” Sadie asked Seine. God, would she ever feel like she knew this world? Every day seemed to be a constant reminder that the rules of reality she’d known her whole life meant nothing.

Seine shifted uncomfortably for a moment, studying his mashed potatoes as if they might answer her question. She was nearly ready to brush it off when he spoke up.

“Yeah—during the war there were a lot of attacks. A lot of people were turned.”

“Jesus,” Sadie didn’t mean to blasphemy, but it was just… she didn’t know the context, but even she could tell that that was awful. She frowned, pushing her roast beef about her plate with a fork. She forced her thoughts to better places and turned to George. “Right! So, muggle Halloween…”