"Mate," Ron said beside him, looking completely flummoxed, "you have wings."

"Yep," Harry said simply, moving to spoon another glob of sickly-sweet oatmeal into his mouth.

"...You have wings."

Harry sighed in exasperation. "Yes, Ron. I have wings. It happens every nine months, and they usually vanish in a day or two." He flexed his shoulders, and his wings unfurled to reveal their full glory. "Bloody things are early this year, though."

"Okay," Hermione said. "Okay. Okay. Okay."

The wing-eyes blinked as one and focused on Hermione, and she squeaked a little.

"You alright there?"

"Okay, okay, okay, okay..."

Harry looked at Ron. "I think Hermione's broken."

The eyes in his wings blinked, and each turned to look around the various students in the Great Hall. What surprised him was that several muggleborn and muggle-raised half-bloods (as far as he could remember, at any rate), a few students from Durmstrang, and one or two of the French witches began mumbling what sounded like prayers and crossing themselves. His eyes focused all on them, and they all blinked.

"What's their problem?"

​

Yeah, no idea where this came from, heh. I think this lurked in the back of my brain.

https://youtu.be/aGXIQqclQv0?t=187