So, my beta reader (Yellowemerald) got bored... and hungry... and ended up writing a chapter about pancakes.
There was a sharp tap on the door. Albus groaned and pulled the duvet over his head in an attempt to ignore it. He was still tired from the night before, and there was no way he was going to get up unless there was a bloody good reason.
"Potter!" The voice was vaguely familiar. "Oi, Potter, get up already! It's time for breakfast, and we always get pancakes for the first day. It's traditional to try and pinch some before the Gryffindors wake up… If you want any, you've gotta come now!"
Pancakes? Well, that was a good enough reason.
Albus sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and called out "I'll be there now!" to the voice outside his door. He tugged off his crumpled shirt and grabbed a fresh one from his trunk. He'd fallen asleep before he had chance to unpack, so it had a few creases in it, but there was no helping that now. With the clean shirt on, he probably looked presentable enough for breakfast.
He ran a hand through his hair nervously - it was as if he hadn't got the memo about the whole house using Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, so his hair's slight unruliness was suddenly weighing on his mind a lot more than it ever had before. He didn't even look like a Slytherin student, never mind feel like one!
"C'mon, Potter, I'm starving!"
"Oh, right!" Albus grabbed his wand, tugged on his shoes and robe, and unlocked the door to see Scorpius Malfoy leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking impatient. His hair was perfectly smooth (of course) and he seemed totally rested, if a bit annoyed with Albus.
"Finally! Let's get a move on - I've heard they put pumpkin sauce on the pancakes if you're early enough." He strode confidently down the corridor, with Albus half-jogging to catch up to him.
The scent of baking filled the corridor that Malfoy dragged him down, and Albus closed his eyes to inhale it, nearly colliding with a stack of barrels next to the wall as he walked.
Before he could ask whether they were going the right way for the Great Hall, Malfoy halted in front of a picture depicting a large bowl of fruit.
I get that he needs breakfast, but he'd better not try to eat that.
Malfoy took out a scrap of yellow paper and muttered something before reaching out to tickle the pear in the still life. The frame swung away from the wall to reveal a large room filled with house-elves. Albus looked around for the one called Slinky, but he couldn't see her. Malfoy had already walked in, and a small cluster of house-elves had formed around the blond boy.
"Can we help Master Malfoy?"
"Hello, everyone. We could smell breakfast cooking from outside, and it must be delicious - is there any chance we could have ours a bit early?" Albus marvelled at how polite his new acquaintance was to the cooks. It didn't sound like the Scorpius who'd bossed him around earlier at all.
"You like Snarky's pancakes? You must have some, then! Please wait here." One of the house-elves rushed to a stove and returned with a plate stacked with pancakes a foot tall. "Here, Master Malfoy sir - would you like sauce with that? We have lemon, strawberry or…" the house-elf lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "we even have the most excellent Mardy's pumpkin sauce, made from her own secret recipe - but you mustn't tell anyone that you've tasted it. Otherwise they'll all want some, and we only have a few barrels left!"
"The pumpkin sauce sounds great, and don't worry about it. My lips are sealed, Mister…?"
"Yampy, sir, at your service Master Malfoy sir."
"Mister Yampy. May I ask you for the same for my housemate over there? He's a little shy." Malfoy gestured back at Albus, who was half-hidden in the shadows of the doorway. Albus waved awkwardly at Yampy, who immediately scurried off to procure some breakfast. The other house-elves went back to work, sensing that the guests were being catered for. Albus walked over to Malfoy in astonished admiration.
"Wow, Malfoy, that was amazing! How d'you know about this secret pumpkin sauce in the first place?" Albus whispered, not wanting to disturb the cooks.
"I have friends in high places - that is, I heard some sixth-years talking about it last night and it reminded me of something I heard from Knuckles and Fists at the feast… how to get into the school kitchens. Put two and two together, and here we are! I reckon we must be some of the only first-years to know about this, so don't say a word when we go back, alright?"
"Of course I won't. Why'd you wake me up, though?"
"Well, I figured I owed you for your help earlier. Plus, if I'd got my foot stuck in the stairs I wanted someone there to help me out before a Prefect found me." Malfoy rolled his eyes, but he was only half-joking. The Slytherin first-years had no idea which stairs had that legendary characteristic, as they'd only gone down to the dungeons the night before. All the other Houses would have been guided upstairs by Prefects, so they'd know which steps to jump, while the Slytherins would be caught unawares. Albus vaguely wondered if the architects had designed things that way on purpose to stop Slytherin newbies from being tempted to break the rules and explore at night…
Before Albus had a chance to reply, an equally huge stack of pancakes wobbled its way over to him, accompanied by a floating jug of gently steaming orange liquid bobbing through the air. Both stopped in front of him, and he grinned.
"Thank you, Mister Yampy. You're very kind. These look fantastic!"
"You're welcome, Master Potter sir. Yampy hopes you both enjoy them!" The cheerful house-elf set down the pumpkin sauce with a flick of his hand and scampered off to help a pair of house-elves arrange a bowl of fresh fruit for a centrepiece.
The boys sat down cross-legged on the floor, balancing the plates in their laps. Albus peered over the top of the wobbly tower of pancakes at Malfoy, who was carefully pouring the sauce onto his breakfast. He glanced up, catching Albus's eye, and held out the jug. Albus grinned and poured a bit onto the top pancake, preferring to try it first instead of assuming he'd like it. The stuff was in short supply after all.
His first bite of the pumpkin sauce-filled bundle was not what he'd expected at all. It had all the rich flavour of a roast pumpkin, the tanginess of pumpkin juice and the delicious, mood-lifting sweetness of Butterbeer mixed with a slightly spicy aftertaste.
"This tastes brilliant!" He tipped the rest of the sauce onto the pancakes without further delay. If breakfast was this good, he wouldn't need lunch anyway.
"What did you expect?" Malfoy raised his eyebrows and smiled at Albus. "The Hogwarts chefs are some of the best in the country - kids never look at Muggle school dinners in the same way after eating here."
"No wonder!" Albus popped another pancake into his mouth, and chewed it contentedly. They really were fantastic. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "These are the best pancakes I've ever tasted! I can't believe - " that the Gryffindors never thought of sneaking in to get some "how lucky I am you told me about this. Thanks, Malfoy - I owe you one!"
"It's fine, I'd still be trying to hop around the common room if it wasn't for your Alohamora spell - I'd say we're even. Just remember that if you see me stuck on the trick step, you've got to help me out - got that, Potter?"
"Sure. Same goes for me if I get stuck - the last thing I need is James teasing me for weeks on end about my lack of Slytherin cunning to escape it."
When they'd both finished eating, they thanked Yampy and sent their compliments to Mardy and Snarky before setting off back down the corridor with the barrels. It didn't take them long to nearly bump into some fifth-years heading towards the kitchens - they only avoided being seen by Albus's quick thinking in dragging Malfoy behind a large statue of a rotund witch holding a cauldron when he heard voices coming around the corner.
"And I've heard the pancakes are delicious, you know…"
The Slytherin boys nearly burst out laughing when they heard the Gryffindor girl say that, and neither of them would make eye contact until the other students were long gone for fear of getting the giggles and attracting attention.