<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a7/Lost_y1_gal_garcia1_s_FULL.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Gabriel Brewer<br/><strong>House/Year:</strong>Ravenclaw/6th<br/><strong>Bloodtype:</strong>Pure blood—but only back 1 generation.<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Great hall, Ravenclaw Table<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Desiree, Anyone<br/><br/>Gabriel Brewer carried a book into the auditorium with him and settled back into the chair.  He read ‘til the talking started, then skimmed ‘til the sorting hat began it’s jaunty tune.  Looking up fully now, he nodded in appreciation of the artifact, remembering some of his studies of the legendary Goodricke Griffindor.<br/><br/>He glanced back at his book from time to time in the coming minutes.  Gabriel had about as much school spirit as fencepost.  He used to gripe about ‘being drafted’ onto the quiditch team, but his disdain for the position hadn’t lasted long.<br/><br/>It was<em>way</em>too much fun!<br/><br/>Still, it was a relief when they weren’t asked to sign the school song this year, and professor Flitwicks display of conjured confetti almost made him wish he’d been shouting with the rest of the kids.<br/><br/>Gabriel grinned when the food appeared--his mother was a borderline vegetarian and painfully fond of pasta, bread, and lentil soup.  He marked the place in his book with a ribbon and finally slipped it into his bag.<br/><br/>His eyes drifted around the table, taking note of the new kids, then back to some of his class mates.  Just about all of them had washboard stomachs and perfect teeth.  He groaned quietly and mumbled, “Why do I always feel like I’m the only one at this school without a Hollywood makeup artist and trainer?”<br/><br/>He noted a sleek and sexy brunet whom he took to be a newcomer and admired her quietly while spooning up a plate of sausage and sour kraut.<br/><br/>Perched on his shoulder, Nichodemus—a rather large raven with clever eyes—squawked once to demand a share of the loot.  Smiling, Gabriel cut a slice of sausage and offered it to his friend, “Her hair is like your wings,” he whispered.  “Who do you suppose she is?”<br/><br/>Nichodemus didn’t answer, but his bright eyes seemed amused. Shrugging, Gabriel cut another sausage and dipped it in some fine mustard.  Chewing on the delectable morsel, the sexy new girl spoke in a sensuous French accent that sent shivers down his spine.<br/><br/>The revelation hit him so hard he chocked.  Gabriel coughed a few times, covering his mouth so that he didn’t spray any more than he had too.  A few gasps later he turned to look the beauty full on and gasped out, “Oh, my lord, you’re Desiree?”