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**Wilber Winterbottom** · #1 (**permalink**) 12-25-2022, 11:27 PM

Once you've tickled the pear and turned the knob, the Hogwarts kitchen will be revealed to you. Located directly beneath the Great Hall, the kitchen is a high-ceilinged room with five identical tables to the ones in the dining room above. Unlike the room situated above however, heaped around the walls are large quantities of pots and pans. On one end of the room are shelves of plates and utensils, stoves, sinks, and a large brick fireplace.

Here numerous house-elves are working on the castle's next meal when they aren't tending to their other duties as employees of the school. The team of house-elves have specific assignments to accomplish inside the kitchen, whether it is to cook, wash the plates and cutlery, keep the pantry stocked, place more wood into the fire, or set the tables before everything is summoned to its exact replicas overhead. Though the house-elves are incredibly busy, they will surely serve you a snack ... if you aren't asking Algamus. Or you can, of course, make your own food. Just don't leave a mess behind!

OOC: Please do not role-play for the House-Elves.

*Samia* · 05-11-2026, 03:30 PM

The pear gave way beneath Marina’s fingers after considerably more aggressive tickling than was probably necessary.

The portrait swung open and warm air immediately wrapped around her, thick with the smell of bread, cinnamon, melted butter, and something rich simmering somewhere deeper in the kitchen. Usually, the moment she stepped in here, she lit up. The kitchens had always felt safe in a strange sort of way. Loud. Warm. Alive. A place where nobody really expected anything from her except maybe not setting things on fire.

Tonight, though, Marina slipped inside quietly.

Her tie hung loose beneath the collar of her uniform, sleeves shoved messily to her elbows, blonde hair escaping in every direction from a ponytail that had long since stopped cooperating. She let the portrait swing shut behind her before pausing there for a moment, exhaling slowly through her nose like she’d only just realized how tightly wound she’d been all evening.

Because Adrian had noticed.

Of course he had.

And worse, he’d asked questions in that careful way people did when they already knew something was wrong and were just waiting for you to admit it yourself. Marina had spent the better part of the last week dodging those conversations with increasing creativity. Different corridors. Different staircases. Different exits from rooms entirely. At one point she’d pretended to remember urgent homework just to escape a perfectly reasonable “Are you alright?”

The problem was she didn’t actually know how to explain any of it.

Not the anger sitting permanently beneath her skin lately. Not the horrible sharpness she kept tripping over inside herself. Not the fact that every tiny thing seemed to hit too hard these days until suddenly she was throwing goblets at people or snapping over names or wanting to cry because someone looked at her too kindly.

It was exhausting.

Marina dragged a hand down her face before making her way toward one of the tables, climbing onto the bench sideways and pulling one knee up loosely against her chest. The kitchens buzzed around her in soft chaos while she stared unfocused at the wooden tabletop, jaw resting against her knuckles.

Then, after a long moment, she reached blindly for the nearest comfort food she could find like it alone might hold her together tonight.

Honestly, at this point, she would accept emotional healing in carbohydrate form.

*squidnie* · 05-11-2026, 06:57 PM

It wasn’t the first time that Cat had spent so long in the library that she’d missed dinner, but it was the first time it had happened this early into the term. That is to say, she was not new to eating alone in the kitchen, and she should probably give at least some attention to why she was spending so much time reading when one of her goals was to chill out. But that was a worry for another time.

For now, she was simply worried about food. Perhaps what sort of bread the elves had made most recently.

That was, until she actually entered the kitchen and found none other than Marina Garcia Massey sitting at a table. Cat hesitated for a half-moment, considering the possibility that her friend wanted to be left alone. But she decided almost immediately that regardless, Marina probably needed some checking-in-on.

And also, Cat was hungry.

“Hey, Marina,” she called, mostly just to make her presence known. She headed straight for the table and helped herself to the bench next to the other girl, sitting sideways so they were face-to-face. She even naturally pulled up one knee toward her chest to unintentionally mirror her friend.

“What are you eating?” There were probably more important questions to be asked, but she’d stick with that one for now.

*Samia* · 05-12-2026, 10:46 AM

Marina startled slightly at the sound of her name, attention snapping up from where she’d been aggressively stirring whipped cream into what was rapidly becoming more whipped cream than hot chocolate.

And for just a second, instinct lit her face up.

“Cat - ” It arrived automatically, that familiar brightness she always had for her best friend, but it faltered almost immediately beneath the weight of remembering. The feast. The goblet. Cat having to step between her and disaster for what felt like the hundredth time lately.

A flush of embarrassment crept up Marina’s neck so quickly she immediately looked back down at her mug like it had become critically important to national security. Still, she shifted over on the bench without hesitation to make room for her.

“Um.” Marina glanced at the table as if only just realizing the absurd quantity of food she’d accumulated. There was toast. Two kinds of jam. A grilled cheese sandwich she’d only eaten one corner of. Chips. A bowl of strawberries. Hot chocolate absolutely drowning in cream.

“Everything, apparently.” Her mouth twitched faintly despite herself. “I think I’m stress eating recreationally.” The joke came easier than honesty did.

Marina pulled one leg up tighter beneath herself before finally looking properly at Cat again, and guilt immediately tugged at her chest all over again because Merlin, she was tired of Cat having to find her like this lately. Moody. Explosive. Falling apart in increasingly creative locations around the castle.

So before Cat could ask anything difficult or kind or observant, Marina abruptly redirected. “How are you?” she asked quickly, almost suspiciously fast. “And also if you say you forgot dinner because of studying, I’m confiscating your books. I’ll do it. I’m stronger than I look.” The pause that followed was brief before she added more quietly, softer around the edges now, “...probably.”

*squidnie* · 05-12-2026, 05:36 PM

Cat’s eyes followed Marina’s, taking in the spread of food on the table before them. Wordlessly, she helped herself to a piece of toast with strawberry jam. She chewed on it thoughtfully as Marina spoke. She swallowed hard before reaching for her own mug of hot chocolate. Dinner of champions.

She paused in her feasting when Marina aptly assumed that she was here because she’d forgotten dinner. Cat slowly, deliberately set down her mug before glancing sideways at her friend, her expression almost comically suspicious.

“You are stronger than you look,” she said confidently. She assumed it was too soon to start making jokes, but she was sure that a certain other third year Gryffindor could directly speak to Marina’s unassuming strength.

Moving on.

“I did, in fact, forget to eat dinner because I was studying.” She stated. Her back straightened a bit on its own accord. “However, you are not only self-described as stress eating, but also very obviously trying to keep me from asking how you are.” She paused, her expression and tone softening. “So, if you get to be worried about me, then I get to be worried about you, too.” Deal?

*Samia* · 05-12-2026, 06:49 PM

Marina’s mouth opened immediately at the mention of her being stronger than she looked.

Then closed again.

Because unfortunately there was recent evidence supporting that claim and the memory arrived so vividly she nearly folded in half from secondhand embarrassment all over again.

And then Cat did the horrible thing.

The reasonable thing.

Marina narrowed her eyes immediately.

“But I asked you first,” she informed her with immense conviction, like this was a matter of sacred conversational law. “That means you answer first. Then maybe I decide if I’m emotionally stable enough to participate.”

“And also,” she continued, “you’ve worried about me approximately eight thousand times recently. It is literally my turn now. You don’t get to pull the Uno reverse card every single conversation.”

The point softened a little near the end though, concern threading through the dramatics despite herself.

“You forgot dinner in, like, the second week of term, Cat. That’s not even academic excellence anymore, that’s wizard negligence.” Marina leaned back slightly against the bench, eyeing her with exaggerated suspicion. “What are you even studying that intensely already? We barely got back.”

*squidnie* · 05-12-2026, 07:32 PM

Now it was Cat’s turn to open her mouth to protest, realize that Marina was a thousand percent correct, and then close it again. Because of course she was right. Even if Cat would most definitely prefer to focus entirely on someone else for the foreseeable future, Marina had beat her to the punch fair and square.

“Unfair use of Ravenclaw logic against a Ravenclaw,” she half-mumbled. Still, one corner of her lips tugged up in a barely-there smile. She knew what Marina was doing here. Marina practically admitted to avoiding certain conversation topics like the plague. But she had a point. Cat was also arguably Not Doing Well. And if Marina was avoiding topics, Cat was pretending they didn’t exist at all, and had been since at least the conversation with a certain Head of House.

She pursed her lips, considering. And also reminding herself sternly that she was fine, thank you very much.

“Wizard negligence?” She repeated, a real smile appearing this time. But then she sighed, running a hand through her (already quite messy) hair. “Spellwork theory.” She admitted. “I’m tired of being rubbish at Charms. And Transfiguration. And Defense Against the Dark Arts.” And literally everything that wasn’t primarily hands-on. “I feel like I’m always trying to catch up.”

*Samia* · 05-13-2026, 03:38 PM

Marina looked deeply, deeply pleased with herself when Cat admitted defeat that quickly. “As a Gryffindor, I believe exploiting loopholes is part of my cultural heritage,” she informed her solemnly before immediately taking another sip of hot chocolate like she hadn’t just invented that on the spot.

But the joking eased the second Cat actually answered.

Marina’s expression softened almost instantly, irritation with herself and the world briefly shoved aside by something far more familiar: fierce, immediate protectiveness where her best friend was concerned.

“Cat,” she said at once, sounding genuinely bewildered, “you are not rubbish at Defense Against the Dark Arts. You literally keep surviving Hogwarts on purpose. That already puts you above average.” She shifted more fully toward her now, one leg folding beneath herself on the bench as if settling into the conversation properly. “And Charms is horrible sometimes because half the class only acts like they know what they are doing when they are suffering just like us,” Marina frowned faintly. “Plus spell theory wording is awful. I swear it feels like professors are just inventing terms when they could just say what they mean like normal people.” Did she get them all?

Her nose wrinkled.The humor lingered lightly in her voice, but underneath it was something sincere now. Steady.

“You don’t look like someone failing to catch up, Cat. You look like someone trying really hard.” Marina tilted her head slightly. “Which is different.”

And because Marina could never sit in earnestness for too long without immediately trying to soften it sideways, she added:

“Also if you ever become better than me at everything, I’ll actually have to develop a personality outside Quidditch and chaos. So for selfish reasons, I need you to remain at least mildly academically troubled.”

Oh wait. She forgot to trash transfiguration. Alas!

*squidnie* · 05-14-2026, 04:03 AM

Of course, there was the immediate urge to argue. Because, no, she was most definitely not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. But Marina had a point. And Cat wasn’t usually one to disagree when someone was objectively correct.

Surviving Hogwarts was a low bar, admittedly, but it was apparently not the lowest bar.

She naturally mimicked her friend’s frown as she contemplated her words. With a soft sigh, Cat pulled her other knee up toward her chest and wrapped her arms loosely around her shins. She wanted to believe what Marina was saying. She was fairly certain that her friend wouldn’t lie to her just to make her feel better. But somehow, trying really hard and failing to catch up were a bit synonymous for her. She wasn’t sure how to untangle them.

Or how to untangle all the related feelings. Which was why it was easier to let herself get so engrossed in her textbook that she forgot to eat. Or rather, at the present moment, become so interested in her hot chocolate (which she too added exorbitant amounts of whipped cream to) that she didn’t have to look Marina in the eye. “You forgot Transfiguration,” she said pleasantly. It was a joke, but only a half-joke.

“Also,” she said, pausing for dramatic effect and to sip her hot chocolate, “there’s no way I’ll ever be good at Quidditch. So you can always have that one.” She chanced some eye contact, smiling just a bit. “But I hear you. I also think that you have a huge personality outside of Quidditch and chaos. Which-” another pause for dramatic effect, and a very knowing look, “brings us back to you, I think.” Please. “How’s the emotional stability looking?”

*Samia* · 05-15-2026, 05:44 PM

“Excuse you,” Marina said immediately, scandalized enough to point her spoon at Cat like a tiny weapon, “I did forget Transfiguration because my brain is protecting me from traumatic experiences.”

She shook her head gravely before taking another aggressively whipped-cream-heavy sip of hot chocolate. And then Cat brought the conversation right back around again with all the subtlety of a guided missile wrapped in politeness.

Marina froze mid-sip. Her eyes narrowed slowly over the rim of her mug.

“That,” she informed her after swallowing, “felt manipulative.”

The knowing look made it worse. “You Ravenclaws are terrifying when you decide to emotionally corner people. It’s all very gentle and academically formatted.” Still, despite the dramatics, some of the fight drained from her shoulders a little. Enough that she slumped sideways against the bench rather than sitting upright like she was preparing for battle.

“Well. I have not thrown any objects at anybody today.” she said, dryly, “Yet.”

Progress.

She stared into her mug for another second before continuing, voice quieter now around the edges. “I don’t know, Cat. I just feel… off lately.” Her fingers tightened slightly around the ceramic. “Like I’m trying really hard to act like normal-me again and it keeps not fitting properly.”

*squidnie* · 05-16-2026, 03:47 AM

Cat couldn’t help but smile at that. “Understood,” she said solemnly, though fighting a laugh.

Her laughter quickly dissipated, though, at Marina’s next words. Manipulative. She wasn’t sure if Marina meant that, or if it was another joke, or if she maybe sort of meant it but it was a stronger word than she actually felt. Either way, Cat didn’t want to be manipulative. She wanted to be supportive.

She wanted to laugh again at academically formatted emotional cornering, but held it back.

Cat took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Marina’s confession was… big. Big in a way that Cat felt completely in over her head. How was she, another thirteen-year-old girl in a similar boat, supposed to help Marina when her old set didn’t fit properly?

Okay, okay. She knew she wasn’t supposed to. But she wanted to.

She took another deep breath, setting her mug down so that she could hug her knees again. This out-of-depth feeling made her want an armchair and a heavy book in her lap. Instead, she focused her vision on her friend’s fingers visibly tightening around her own mug.

“I think…” she started, frowned, then tried again. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re going through.” She refrained from a pointed look because a certain someone was not saying certain things that would possibly help her know what a certain someone was going through… “But, like… I think there’s a lot of not-fitting happening. Dad says that it happens to teenagers.” Not in those words, but Cat felt that the sentiment was the same.

She reached out, placing her fingertips on her friend’s knee for the briefest moment before taking it back. “I don’t know. I’m just saying that maybe it’s okay that normal you isn’t fitting? Maybe you’re supposed to be… a different fit.” The analogy was getting lost and Cat truthfully didn’t really know to what she was referring anymore.

But she wasn’t quite done. “I mean, maybe the old you just has to fit different now.”

*Samia* · 05-20-2026, 08:33 AM

Marina went very still after Cat finished speaking.

Quiet enough that the sounds of the kitchen seemed louder around them. Her eyes stayed on the whipped cream for a moment longer before lifting back to Cat slowly, like it cost effort.

“That,” she said at last, voice softer than before, “was annoyingly wise for someone who forgot dinner because she got into a fistfight with spell theory.” The corner of her mouth pulled faintly with a smile.

Because Cat was making sense, as she always did. Marina naturally hated when things made sense while simultaneously feeling awful - but that was story they were not focusing on today.

A different fit. The words lodged somewhere uncomfortable in her chest.

She pulled one leg up onto the bench beneath her then, curling slightly into herself as her fingers toyed absently with the sleeve of her jumper. There was less performance in her now. Less frantic sparkle trying to compensate for the fact that she felt vaguely like a staircase with one missing step.

“I think I just…” She exhaled once through her nose, eyes dropping again. “I think I liked who I was before. Or at least I understood her.” That felt more honest than she intended. “She was easier.” Another tiny shrug. “Everything was easier when I was just loud and good at Quidditch and accidentally setting things on fire emotionally instead of…” She made a vague little motion with her hand. “Whatever this is.” A haunted Victorian weather pattern, apparently.

Her mouth flattened slightly afterward, embarrassed by her own honesty now that it existed in the open air between them.

Honestly, it felt like they should probably be hugging right now. Instead, Marina smiled. A real one this time, smaller and softer around the edges, but real enough to warm her whole face.

What she had done to deserve Cat remained one of the great unsolved mysteries of the wizarding world.

Then, because Marina could only tolerate emotional vulnerability for a limited number of consecutive seconds before instinctively attempting escape, her eyes narrowed suddenly over the rim of her mug.

“…soooo,” she said carefully, suspicion threading through the word, “you know the Gryffindor troll?”

She was, of course, talking about CJ.

*squidnie* · Yesterday, 09:30 PM

Fist fight with spell theory. Cat wrinkled her nose at how accurate that statement felt. “I have to use my powers somehow. They’re clearly wasted on me.”

She shifted slightly on the bench, lowering her knees so she was sitting cross-legged. The hot chocolate mug was warm through her socks as she rested it on her leg. She studied her friend silently, aware of a small change that she couldn’t name. Marina seemed to… deflate a bit. But not necessarily in a bad way. A more real way, maybe.

She sighed softly, starting to play with a loose string on her sock. “I get it,” she said softly. “I think this is what people mean when they say being a teenager is hard.” It was always vague - it was still vague in her mind, honestly - but she’d heard it plenty of times. “And… you know, since everything happened with my parents…” she paused, suddenly self-conscious. She didn’t want to seem like she was making this about her. “I’m just saying that I get it, and it’s okay, and I still think you’re amazing.”

She wanted to hug her. Could she hug her? The table made things tricky.

But Marina had moved on, for which Cat couldn’t help but feel grateful. All this heavy talk was… difficult.

There was only one person she could be talking about, too. If the Gryffindor troll wasn’t CJ, Cat would eat her potions textbook.

“Know is a strong word. I ran into him - rather, he literally ran into me - at Florean’s over the summer.” She paused briefly before adding, “He’s rather hard to forget, isn’t he?” Given the way he was and everything.

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