Filbin Langley, 5th year Hufflepuff, ducked into the kitchens, giving the painted pear a quick tickle in just the right spot.

House elves bustled about, but it was so late they were really only focused on pastries for breakfast the next morning.

"Hey, anybody seen Chris?" he asked, catching a small elf with her short arms full of a bowl of currants.

"No, sir," she squeaked, but looked toward the root cellar door. "But Miss Gwen is here asking about her too, sir!"

He let her go and dusted her off. "You could pass for a ghost, all covered in flour," he said, smiling. "Go on, but she'll be around soon."

"Yes, sir," she squeaked, "we know, sir. We're trying to be finished before she arrives, sir!" The elf scurried away and the others stirred faster, their eyes on the door in something like fear.

Filbin flicked his wand and a handful of dried apricots flew out of their bowl with a flourish, right into his hand on his way to the root cellar door.

Gwendolyn Connolly, also a 5th year Hufflepuff, sat on a high stool… with a puddle of water underneath her. "Hey!" she smiled. "Come sit!"

To most other people, her snowy white hair, light blue eyes, and smattering of prominent freckles across her nose were an unusual combination. Filbin, not so much, but he did eye the puddle under her with concern. "Not where you are. What's up with this?"

She looked around and then grinned at him mischievously. "My assignment from Chris," she whispered, then opened her long slick rain coat to show a large net of fresh wriggling shrimp sitting on her lap. "I got em from the lake! Want one? They're scrummy!"

Filbin almost gagged. "Like alive?! No thanks." He laughed and picked a very dry seat nearby. "That may fly with selkies, but most people prefer seafood cooked. Sushi's one thing, but… well I'd cook any fish that came from that lake a good looooong time. Have you seen the scum in there?"

"It's good for shrimps," she said, opening the top of the net carefully and peeking in like a first year with a bag of everyflavor beans. "And clams, but Chris asked for shrimps."

"Speak of the devil," Filbin said, around an apricot. He pointed to the door.

Charisma Dobbs sent house elves scurrying for cover, so much so that she almost tripped on one of them and spun, keeping a careful grip on a burlap sack. "Whoa! Where's the fire?"

Gwen held a shrimp she'd picked out, and pointed at her friend with it. "You! Seems like they all remember the last time we visited."

"You mean the last time she visited," Filbin corrected. "We weren't around for the last experiment."

Charisma waved her hand airily. "Nevermind. This will be much better than that. This is an actual recipe I had once, not an experiment."

"Have you made it before?" Gwen asked, surprised enough she put her shrimp back without a nibble.

"Well," Chris hesitated, waffling on her answer.

"Means no," Filbin filled in. "So it IS an experiment, just less an experiment than her magic marzipan."

Charisma scratched her head, her fingers buried in abundant curly blonde hair, and bumping her potions goggles she constantly wore on her head. "Still don't know how that could have gone wrong. You guys were going to love it – it was a present. Or it would have been if it hadn't come alive." She shook her head and waved her free hand for silence before her friends could speak up. "No! No, this is different. Now," she said, holding up the burlap bag by the neck. "Guess what's in here!"

Gwen's expression fell. "Oh, I don't like guessing games…"

Filbin examined the bag closer and squinted. "Is that bag … smoking?"

Chris' whole face lit up and she gripped the neck of the bag tighter. "No what's IN the bag is smoking! Y'know how Bets was talking about their herbology lesson? With the" –

Gwen scrambled off her chair and backed up, clutching her shrimp net with her. "African Incendi Peppers!" she hissed, when Filbin looked at her in confusion.

He just grinned. "Hey! Did you steal em?"

"Borrowed," Chris sniffed, offended. "It's for a good cause. Besides, Professor Longbottom wasn't in his office to ask properly."

"Did you go during office hours?"

She avoided Filbin's eyes. "No time. I only got the idea this afternoon. Besides, it's so cold outside and with finals going on, this soup would be exactly what everybody needs! Gwen, did you get the shellfish?"

"Shrimps!" Gwen beamed proudly.

"Perfect! Come on. Filbin, grab that big pot over there. I put some stuff in it we're gonna need."

"Wait," he said, though he already had his arms around the large stew pot. "We're not cooking it here? Don't we need the stove?"

Chris waved off the question. "Just be careful carrying that. There's a bottomless vial of water in there. Break it and you'll be swimming."

Once through the barrels and down the stairs, Chris set up the pot half full with water on a round stone stool. She put on gloves and chopped up the Incendi Peppers, dropping them directly into the water. It immediately boiled.

Filbin looked in. "Sweet! Why didn't we get a class on these when we were 3rd years?"

Gwen cleaned shrimp, taking the nasty bits out to make a tidy pile ready for the pot. "You wouldn't if there wasn't a bush in the greenhouse when you were a 3rd year."

Chris pushed Filbin away from the pot. "Chop some carrots and potatoes." She pulled her goggles down over her eyes. "It's gonna start smelling spicy in here!"

Ingredients went into the pot, some magic, some not.

The smell drew other Hufflepuffs into the common room, the 7th and 5th years first as they were up anyway, stressing over their midterm tests.

"What did Chris put in it?"

"Don't get too close, it might explode."

"Phwah! It's burning my nose! … when will it be ready?"

"You can't be serious. Cooking in the commonroom? Probably one of Filbin's charms."

"Hey, look up the ingredients and we'll count it for Potions study."

The shrimp went in last. Once she threw the last one in, Chris grabbed up a Snow Mint leaf. She held it up to the light, snipped it in half, counted to 23, and dropped one half in the pot.

The boiling stopped instantly, but the steam swirling off the surface showed it was still nice and hot.

"Ha!" Chris beamed down at her creation, her goggles fogged up by the steam. "Just like I remember it! Hope it tastes as good." She looked up, then around because she couldn't see much, then pushed her goggles up. "Oh, that's better." She dug a ladle out of their supply pile from the kitchens. "Who wants a taste?"

Even Gwen and Filbin held back.

Filbin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Look, it's fun and that was cool and all, but… well…"

Chris looked crestfallen. "… really?"

Gwen cleared her throat. "You did paralyze him with that batch of cupcakes that one time…"

"I said I was sorry! And I fixed the recipe in time for his birthday!"

Filbin nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, you did…"

Chris stood by her soup, literally and figuratively, reaching out to Gwen and then every other person in the room to get any takers.

A third year, her eyes still a little bleary from having been asleep, silently came in from the dormitory. She looked over the scene at a glance, and the whole commonroom hushed. She blinked once, smiled at Chris, and walked over, picking up a bowl from the optimistically large stack Chris brought along. "Your soup is delicious," she said with absolute confidence.

Filbin immediately snatched up a bowl and took his place behind her. "If Elfie says it's good, that's good enough for me," he shrugged. "Go on, then, fill 'er up, Chris!"

A massive line formed, orderly and amiable, even before the second ladleful made it into Elfie's bowl.

The third year took her spoon but didn't wait to take a sip. "Oo!" she gasped and giggled. "Nice and warm. Thank you!"

Chris winked at her. "Have as much as you want! I owe you one."

She stood to the side so Filbin and the others could get theirs. She blinked at her. "Why? You made the soup." She wandered off to a seat, tucking herself in a massive overstuffed armchair next to a window all blocked out by a snowbank outside.

Several servings for everyone later, Chris sat back and Gwen flopped across her friends' laps.

"I don't say this often," she mumbled, feeling awfully warm and cozy for it being nearly 4am, "but I think that recipe improved the shrimps."

Filbin patted her head. "See? Come to the cooked side – we have Chris' Incendi Soup!"

Chris giggled. "It has a real name, but I like that better. Incendi Soup. … Pity that won't be on our midterms…"