Hungry? Yeah, he was kind of starved. Damien had been off practicing his free throws in the Room of Requirement and all that exercise had caused the lanky Chicago bot to work up a most serious appetite.

He could've eaten a manticore with the right seasoning and the right drink to pair it with. Damien had showered and changed and was casually dressed in a t-shirt and fitted grey sweatpants as he sat at the Gryffindor table for a late-ish lunch.. Or perhaps it was an early dinner? No matter, he was there for food.

The boy had barely settled into his seat before his hands started to move, grabbing whatever was in immediate reach (which, turned out to be baked ham, peas, sweet potato casserole and a large hunk of bread) for his consumption.

I really freaking love Hogwarts. The boy thought before diving into his plate with an uncharacteristic abandon.