Arya pushed the door open to the Slytherin common room and sauntered in, wide smile practically carved into her face. She was the new Slytherin seeker. She was going to play against Jon on the pitch. She was going to trounce Jon on equal terf and finally prove that--
"Oof!" she grunted as a weight suddenly barreled into her and nearly toppled her to the ground. It was immediately followed by screeching so high she was surprised she didn't burst an eardrum.
"ARYA! YOU DID IT!" Arya winced at both the force of the hug and the pitch of the voice. "OUR NEW SEEKER!"
"Nymeria, please, I beg of you," she gasped.
Nymeria Sand tightened her arms around the littlest Slytherin and then stepped back, hands on Arya's shoulders. Arya grinned wider at the sight of Nymeria's smile. A slow clapping from across the room drew both girls' attention and, almost simultaneously, their smiles faded and dropped.
"How touching."
"Ramsay," Arya took a step back from her friend and turned to face the seventh year, nodding at him in acknowledgement.
"Is that any way to address your captain?" the older boy asked. "I expect discipline and respect from my troops, Wolf."
Arya bristled at the derogatory tone dripping from the name but kept her mouth shut. He was lounging on one of the couches in the common room, Myranda practically draped over him as she played with the curls of his hair above his ear.
"You only got in because everyone else who tried out fell off their brooms at the first strike from a bludger. Don't get cocky."
Arya threw back her shoulders and tipped her chin up. "I'm not. I know my competition."
Ramsay smirked and Arya forced herself not to react at the gleam in his eyes. "No," he drawled. "You think you know your competition," he stated condescendingly. "Don't think that because you played your brother and cousin at the playground that you know how they play in a real game."
Arya bristled at his tone and clenched her fists. Any joy she'd had at learning the news she'd made it onto the team had practically evaporated. She watched silently as Ramsay rolled off the couch and slithered towards her, Myranda in his wake. She forced herself still as he leaned over her, his breath ghosting over her face.
"Practice starts next week at 6am. We'll see how good you really are then."
Arya waited until she heard the dungeon door open and close before she exhaled a small "Holy fuck" into the silent room.
"That guy's a real psycho," Nymeria agreed.
"Thank God we only have to deal with him for one more year."
Nymeria clapped her on the shoulder. "Don't worry. It's infinitely worse when you're on the quidditch team."
"Nooooo," Arya whined softly. "Why would you say that?"
Nymeria shrugged. "Just telling it like it is, sis." Arya grinned at the nickname. "So, how should we celebrate?"
"Kitchen raid," Arya said and Nymeria high-fived her.
***********
Arya waited another hour after her roommates had fallen asleep before she snuck out of bed and down to the common room where Nymeria, Obara, and Tyene were waiting for her by the door. She stifled a laugh when Obara pulled her against her chest and gave her a noogie, ruffling her hair so thoroughly that she knew she’d have a hard time untangling it. She huffed quietly when Tyene hugged her quickly before opening the door and pushing her out.
“We have to be careful,” Obara whispered as she took point leading them to the kitchen. “Littlefinger is patrolling tonight, but he’s supposed to be on the 4th floor so we should be okay.”
“Abuse of power,” Tyene whispered even as one finger delicately tapped against the prefect badge on her half-sister’s chest. Obara swatted her hand away with a sneer.
The four Slytherins crept through the corridors slowly and carefully until they reached the fruit painting and Arya tickled the pear, cringing when its giggles echoed in the deserted hallway. With a soft creak the painting swung out and the girls stepped in behind it and into the kitchen. They paused for a moment, all four inhaling the smell of baked bread and hot chocolate before letting out a contented sigh.
A small face with floppy ears popped out from behind a column and let out a delighted squeak before scurrying towards them. “More visitors!” it exclaimed happily as it grabbed Arya’s hand and pulled her further into the kitchen. “What can Milly get you, miss?”
“Hi Milly,” Arya said politely, watching as the house elf nearly cried at the greeting.
“What do you mean ‘more visitor’?” Obara asked as she followed behind them.
“Master Hot Pie and Master Gendry are here as well!” Milly exclaimed happily.
Arya had just enough time to run one hand through her disheveled hair before they rounded a corner and she let out an involuntary bark of laughter. Before her was a table as long as the one in the great hall nearly overflowing with comfort foods and hot drinks. At one end sat Gendry, a plate piled with tarts, pies, and what she suspected was some sort of marshmallow dessert that looked more like and explosion of white goo. Behind him, at another table, stood Hot Pie with a chef’s hat and an apron as he diligently attempted to copy a house elf making some sort of drink.
At Arya's laugh, Hot Pie startled and yelped, the noise quickly followed by a soft rumbling before the drink in front of him exploded with a loud boom and a hot tower of flames. The boy in question yelled again and fell backwards. Gendry was up in the next second and crouching next to his housemate, tilting his head back and inspecting the younger boy’s face.
“Sorry Pie,”’ he said with a small chuckle as he patted the other boy’s face as soft wisps of smoke rose from it. “Looks like you’ll be going eyebrowless again.”
Hot Pie sighed miserably. “One of these days I will get this drink right and not have it blow up in my face.”
“I am so sorry, Master Hot Pie,” the house elf next to him moaned. “Gibly should have been watching you better. But Gibly thought you did everything right this time. Gibly is sorry!”
“No, no. It’s okay Gibly. I mean, there’s a reason why house elves are usually the only ones capable of making this drink. It takes precise magic.”
“Gibly will bring medicine for Master Hot Pie.”
Hot Pie opened his mouth but the house elf was already gone. He sighed and looked toward where the other house elves were working and nearly choked on thin air. He turned an impressive shade of red even as he cried out a surprised “Arya!”
Gendry whipped around at that and stood up so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet and fell back down again. Fortunately for him, he caught himself (rather unceremoniously) on Hot Pie’s head and straightened his shirt as he leaned back on the table as nonchalantly as possible.
“Arya. Hi. Hi, Arya…” he waved sheepishly. He could practically feel his face turning red and for a hot second wished a black hole would swallow him.
But then Arya smiled at him and waved back, a small “Hi Gendry,” uttered as a greeting and Gendry couldn’t help his grin.
“I hear congratulations are in order.” His grin softened as her smile widened, pride suffusing her face as her cheeks flushed a little red. “Not that I’m surprised. I mean, I’ve seen you on a broom. You’re going to be cramping a lot of styles.”
Her smile turned wicked. “I live to serve.”
Nymeria cleared her throat, raising an eyebrow at Arya's stink eye as the girl turned to look at her. “We’re here to celebrate, not chat up the competition.”
“Oh, awesome!” Hot Pie exclaimed as he picked himself up off the floor. “I can whip us up something to drink and eat!”
“Isn’t that what the house elves are for?” Obara asked, confused.
“Well, sure,” Hot Pie agreed as he went to the table with the smoking drink and dumped it out into a barrel on the floor. “But I have a deal with the house elves. When I’m here, I'm the cook. Sometimes with their help."
“Why…?” Obara questioned as she took a seat. Arya followed suit and Gendry sat next to her before either Tyene or Nymeria could move.
“Because I want to be a chef.”
“He’s very good,” Arya confirmed. “I’ve had his bread. I want a direwolf bread, Hot Pie!”
“Coming right up!” he exclaimed, turning back toward the table and waving his wand in complicated arcs and sweeps.
Arya watched him silently for several seconds before sighing. "How are you so good at this but so awful at charms?"
Gendry chuckled. "He only gives you the perfected goods. You should see the experimentation phase. It's a disaster."
"Hey!" Hot Pie protested.
"Just telling it like it is, man!"
"If it's such a disaster, then how come you always volunteer to be my guinea pig?"
"And miss out on all the delicious, happy accidents? Are you kidding me?" Gendry exclaimed, winking at Arya. Hot Pie preened at the compliment and Gendry and Arya exchanged a grin.
Nymeria nudged Arya under the table and she snapped her head to glare at friend, who waggled her eyebrows and made surreptitious kissy faces toward her friend before Arya viciously kicked her in the shin.
“Motherfucker!” she gasped as she brought her leg up and clutched it. “You vicious little snail.”
“Don’t call me a snail! I’m the fastest person on a broom in this room.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Nymeria grumbled.
“Language,” Obara reprimanded them. “We have children in the room,” she said as she eyed Tyene, who immediately tried to elbow her in the ribs in retaliation.
“Wow,” Gendry murmured as he watched the four girls punch and kick each other as cussing flew back and forth between them. “Are they always so…”’
“Violent?” Hot Pie finished for him. He shrugged. “They’re Slytherin quidditch players with Ramsay as their captain. I’d imagine anything less and they’d be eaten alive by that snake.”
“I guess…” Gendry replied. He looked over his shoulder and saw Hot Pie standing behind him with a plate of food in his hands and perked up. “Oh! Is it ready?”
“Fresh out of the oven, so to speak!” Hot Pie answered as he set the plate of direwolf shaped bread on the table.
As soon as it hit the wood the squabbling Slytherins stopped and descended onto the food like a pack of ravenous hyenas, each grabbing a piece and taking a huge bite out of it. Gendry and Hot Pie watched on in disgust and awe as Obara and Nymeria practically inhaled their direwolf, and Gendry quickly snatched one of the two remaining pieces before either girls could go for seconds.
It seemed, however, that Lady Catelyn’s upbringing wasn’t so easily shaken off as Arya actually stopped to chew her food before she turned to Hot Pie and smiled. “This is amazing.”
The boy flushed a bright red. “Thanks!” he grinned happily as he snagged the last piece and sat down next to Gendry.
Arya hummed and bit off another piece of bread. She thought back to Ramsay and his condescending words, and how he had sucked the joy out of one of the proudest and best moments in her life. But, as she watched as her Slytherin and Hufflepuff friends bicker amicably, she smiled contentedly as that lost feeling suffused her chest is once again. She’d earn her place on the team and prove Ramsay wrong the only way she knew would count: she’d win them the House Cup.