Um, hello. This is my first story, so I hope you like it. Reviews are welcomed. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
They were a brilliant place to be, the Kitchens. Everybody heard about them, but not too many people had ever found the elusive entranceway into the house-elf ruled domain called the Kitchens.
Harry James Potter adored the Kitchens. Having practically grown up in the kitchen in Privet Drive, having cooked for the Dursley's from the young age of four, Harry loved the smell of cooking food, the noise of ovens and pans and people - or, in this case, House Elves - cleaning things. With all the time he spent in Hogwarts Kitchens, he found that House Elves loved cooking and cleaning dishes the normal way - they just didn't like cleaning rooms very much.
He also loved the large space and the quite atmosphere of work the House Elves always provided. His favourite thing to do was curl up in the large window seat that the House Elves had set up after his first time he had appeared there, a large bay window that overlooked the Quidditch Pitch and the Forbidden Forest. The window seat was high enough for his feet to hang a few inches of the ground when he sat up straight, long enough for him to stretch out comfortably and still have a few more inches until his feet touched the end, as well as wide enough for him to curl up with a pile of books beside him, one in his hand, and enough space for his back to be protected from the cold window by a large pillow.
Though it was a little known fact, Harry loved reading. He wasn't particularly fond of school books, but he loved history books, as well as fiction books. When the House Elves had found this out, every lost and forgotten fiction or history book in the school appeared on a big book case that had found its way to the wall to the right of Harry's window.
. . .
Today, Harry was once again curled up on the window seat, a small plate with a flapjack and a cup of chocolate milk balanced on the revealed wooden of the seat. He had a book propped up on the sturdy glass, his eyes carefully scanning the words, taking them all in as he read. It was an extremely interesting book, a small hardback previously owned by what must have been a muggle-born, or at least a muggle raised. It was part of a series, and the person had lovingly brought four of them to Hogwarts, and had forgotten them or lost them, leaving them behind when he or she left, and most probably forgetting them. The 39 clues: Maze of Bones was a brilliant book, and though he was rather sad that someone had forgotten it, he was also quite glad.
It was raining quite heavily outside, and the Kitchens were lit up brightly, bright yellow balls floating all around the room, lining the high ceiling. Looking away from his book for a moment, he craned his neck, his bright green eyes roaming over the deserted grounds through the rain splattered window, his breath fogging the glass slightly.
It was October 3rd, a Saturday, a little over a month into his sixth year at Hogwarts. He had more then enough time to spend in the Kitchens with only the House Elves for company, for although Hermione Granger, one of his friends, was taking nine N.E.W.T classes, and Ron Weasley, another friend, was taking seven classes, Harry was only taking five - Ancient Runes, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. That gave him plenty of time to spend on his own when his friends were in their own classes, and he quite enjoyed the time away from over-bearing friends.
Turning back to his book, and scratching absently at his hand, he didn't notice when the entrance to the Kitchens had opened, nor that a group of people had walked in, until he heard his name being said loudly.
. . .
Slytherins had a reputation. They were calm and collected, only getting angry when one of their own was hurt. They were sly and cunning, they were snakes, able to slither in the grass, keep in the shadows. They knew as much as one could about what happened in this school. None of them were muggle-born, all of them Pureblood with the occasional half-blood. They had there own set of rules, approved by each and every headmaster since the making of the school, and they stuck to them.
They were the epitome of Slytherin, the few who were expected to go far and well in life, no matter what path they chose.
Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass. The five Slytherins with the most power, even though they weren't the oldest in the Snake Pitt. The five sixth years were practically royalty to the other Snakes. They even had bodyguards - Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
So, a little before noon on the first Saturday of October, Draco, Blaise, Theo, Pansy and Daphne entered the Kitchens, intent on finding a snack before they hid themselves away in the Slytherin Common room for the afternoon, their previous plans ruined by the sudden rain. They had gone the normal way, tickling the pear on the painting of the fruit bowl on the wall of the corridor three floors up from their Pitt.
Draco went in first, his beautiful grey eyes sweeping over the room, casually taking in everything from the House elves to the bookcase he knew for a fact wasn't there before. He had done a full sweep of the room, and was looking back at the House elves when his brain caught up with his eyes, and his head turned so fast that he was sure he heard something crack. He stopped walking, standing silently a few feet away from the Kitchens entrance, his eyes wide as he stared at the person siting by the window that was surely not that big last time he had been here.
Blaise came in next, not noticing that the blond had stopped, and bumped into him. He stumbled slightly, catching himself just in time to catch himself from falling on his fellow Slytherin. Being two inches taller than the blond, he was, when he turned his head in the same direction, easily able to see what his friend was looking at. He, too stopped moving, and merely blinked at the sight that he'd never thought he'd see.
The other three had noticed the two teens standing in front of the entrance gaping at something, and had managed to maneuver around them, the girls bodies fitting easily in the small space left between the boys and the wall, although Theo's lanky, slightly broader body had a bit of trouble. When they noticed what the two young men were staring at, they too, stared at the sight.
Harry Potter's tiny body lay curled up on a window seat all of the Slytherins knew hadn't been there last time they had been there - which was last May - a book leaning against a glass of something, a piece of flapjack held up to pink lips by a small, long-fingered hand. He hadn't seemed to have noticed them, and being the Slytherins they were, they would have noticed if he had, even if he had tried to hide it.
"Potter!" Draco said loudly a minute later, slightly annoyed at not being noticed.
Harry started, the piece of cake slipping from his fingers and falling to the pillow his arm was resting on and his head moving up so fast that everyone heard the loud crack it made.
His eyes, a gorgeous, luminescent green, were wide as he stared up at them, still laying on his side.