6th year Slytherin dormitory, six o'clock pm

Thursday night found Jasper studying over his schoolbooks avidly. He was slumped down in his bed turning one careful page after another. A person might think he was studying for the upcoming exams - and in that, they would be utterly, utterly WRONG. Jasper, you see, was a very 'think about the future!' person. As it was, he was studying for his NEWTs, which he would take in approximately...one year. One year was definitely not enough time at all. Jasper had been studying since the moment he finished his OWLs and he still worried. What if he got something horrible, like an A on Potions or something? A for acceptable? It was a horrible, horrible grade. It was average, and whatever Jasper was, he was NOT average. Average was normal, plain, unexciting and incapable. He, on the other hand, desired to be the very best. At everything.

There was a peculiar smell in the dormitory at the moment and Jasper scrunched his nose up disgustedly. What's that? Chances were, someone in his dorm hadn't showered in several days (or weeks. Jasper didn't have a very positive view of some of his dorm-mates mental capabilities.)


"What is that?" he said aloud, with a grimace.

It was only the beginning of evening, but Zoey didn't feel like partaking the usual dinner rituals of Hogwarts. Bea would probably be upset with him for ditching, but alas, he didn't care again. Instead, he was concocting his own recipe for dinner, in his own dormitory that was. Being muggleborn, he'd learned to cook at a young age, so he set up his potions equipment (all cleaned of course), and then started working his magic, so to say, on a traditional Asian dish of rice, mixed with multiple herbs. He'd asked his mother to send the ingredients earlier that week.

"What is that?"

A voice woke Zoey from his concentration. Apparently, he wasn't alone in his dorm. And by the word 'that', he could only think of the smell of his rice dish. Peeking his head over his bed, as he was situated on the floor, Zoey saw Jasper Quinn, one of his more acceptable roommates, and smiled. " 'Ey there, Jasper. It's me." He paused. "Well, not me, but what I'm making. I've decided to cook my own dinner tonight. And I'll let you know, the smell is nothing like the taste." He nodded from his floor position and then returned to his cooking.

He was reduced to staring. Jasper did not cook. It was not due to any sort of 'males don't do that!' pretentiousness, but rather due to his very real lack of cooking capabilities. It was a sad fact, but Jasper - who had a Potions tutor and everything - almost always managed to turn the simplest of recipes into disaster. Potions, cooking, chemistry... If it involved putting more than two things together and stirring, there was good chance Jasper could mess it up.

Zoey had always being one of Jasper's brighter dorm-mates, though he was certainly eccentric. As evidenced by the Slytherin's choice to cook. On the floor of the 6th year Slytherin guys' dorm. "...because cooking on the floor is just the most logical thing in the world?" he grumbled, half-sarcastic, half-amused. And his curiosity had been piqued. Jasper had to see what was going on now. He removed himself from his pile of books and strode over to Zoey, crouching besides him to stare at the bizarre-smelling dish. "You know how to cook?" he was surprised, but not incredibly. Anyone could beat Jasper's....'talent' at cooking and potions with little effort.