Better Be Slytherin!

was the only thing in the Wizarding world that required no thought on his part; it was all just instinct, and glory and FUN!

The Slytherin team captain, Flint, was a harsh taskmaster, but then, Harry had known that the day Flint ran him in circles to see if he would be a good enough Seeker for the team. He treated everyone the same, though, which Harry was very glad of. He was tired of people either being all gaga over his scar, asking to see it, asking if he really vanquished You Know Who -- as if he had any idea either, beyond what he had read in books -- or else being utter prats, just because he'd been sorted into Slytherin or because he wasn't a pureblood like Zabini.

Not once, during the entire practice, did Harry think of the detention he was missing. No, he raced his broom -- from the school broom shed -- and chased the snitch, and reveled in the wondrousness of being able to do something he was good at, with no one telling him he was a freak for doing so. He loved it.

After showering in the changing room near the pitch, he walked back to the castle with Draco, who chatted excitedly about maneuvers Flint had the Chasers and Beaters running through, while Harry nodded and smiled. Draco seemed really easy to please, actually, once Harry realized that what the blond wanted was a little recognition that he did things well, too, and also a chance to have fun. They were getting on pretty well these days, in fact.

Once in the castle, he looked sidelong at Harry as they crossed the Entrance Hall. 'We missed dinner. You want to come with me to the kitchens and grab something?'

Years of filching food from the Dursleys kitchen after hours had primed Harry for the job. 'Sure. Do you know where it is?'

Draco nodded. 'From here it's easy. We go down the Puffies corridor, and then follow our noses.'

Harry snickered and followed the other boy as they wended their way down to the level of the dungeons, but a ways removed from the Potions classroom and Snape's office. They arrived at a portrait of a very alive looking bowl of fruit, and Draco reached up to tickle his fingers along the side of a juicy looking pear. The portrait door swung open, welcoming them in.

'How'd you know this was here?' Harry asked as they ducked into the kitchen.

'My Father told me. He knew I might get hungry after practice and whatnot.'

Draco didn't mention his father very often, and then usually with this sort of calm flippancy, but Harry was reminded of the 'talk' they'd both been subject to, in Snape's office, a week ago. He didn't say anything about it now, though, but looked around the kitchen, to see dozens of long, wooden tables, with dozens of short, bulbous eyed creatures with long, floppy ears working at them on various kinds of pastries, breads, soups and pies. It all smelled wonderful. Almost as one, the creatures turned to see who had entered their realm.

'We would like something to eat,' Draco announced cheerily. 'That is, Harry Potter and I.'

A murmur of voices started through the kitchen and wended its way back and forth like a cyclone. Harry could hear his name being whispered, over and over, on the tip of every tongue in sight. He sighed. 'Did you have to do that?' he whispered to Draco.

Draco smirked and nodded, as a half dozen of the creatures came forward with trays of sandwiches and puddings and one even had a whole roast chicken surrounded by tiny carrots and braised potatoes.

'Harry Potter has come to the Hogwarts kitchen!' one of the little creatures exclaimed, its voice squeaky and kind of irritating, actually.

'Harry Potter wants food!' another called.

Harry Potter felt his face growing very red, and vowed to get back at Draco, somehow. Later. Now, though, he was hungry. 'Er, yeah. I, er, we are really hungry. We just had Quidditch, you know?'

'Harry Potter plays Quidditch!' went up the call throughout the kitchen.

Bloody hell.

Dozens of trays, now, were being shoved in his face, and Draco was taking things from them with abandon, loading up his arms with meat and buns and cakes, so Harry followed suit, and soon they both had their arms full and were backing from the room.

'Harry Potter must return soon!'

'Er, okay. I'll be sure and do that,' Harry said hastily, as he and Draco made good their escape.

Once back in the hallway, Draco tore a bite off a chicken leg and led him away from the kitchen by a different corridor, and soon Harry could see where they were, in relation to the Slytherin dorms.

'What the hell was that all about?' Harry asked, his voice muffled around a bite of pasty.

'You're a bloody hero, Harry Potter,' Draco said, making Harry's name sound like the creatures had said it, sort of sing-songy. 'Even the House-elves love you.'

'House-elves? Is that what those things were?'

Draco stopped and stared. 'You've never seen a House-elf?'

Harry rolled his eyes and swallowed the pumpkin treat. 'Muggle raised, remember?'

'Oh, yeah. I forget sometimes. You seem so normal.'

Not knowing whether to be insulted or complimented, Harry chose not to respond to the observation at all. Instead he shrugged and started down the hall again. Draco trotted to catch up, and the two of them entered the Slytherin common room together.

They brought all their pilfered booty over to the table their study group met at, and offered to share it around, as there was too much for the two boys to eat on their own. Millicent, who was still struggling with Transfiguration homework, sighed gratefully and took a handful of chocolate biscuits, which she nibbled on, humming happily around the snacks. Even Blaise Zabini accepted some of their largesse, and didn't even make any cutting remarks about it.

Once he'd taken the edge off his hunger, Harry was ready to start his homework, so he went back to his dorm