I know where I am!

Not really sure what to do with himself, Raven had decided to wander about the castle. Maybe even try and find that room he'd been trying to find since last year. The one that would make itself be whatever the user wanted. It was a good past time especially seeing as it was a rather dreary rainy day. Granted most days seemed to be that way and if it wasn't raining then it threatened to rain. The air would just seem heavy and wet and ready for the heavens to open up and dump a bucket of cold rain on you.

Climbing the stairs from the dungeons to the floor where the kitchen was located, the boy found a fond smile on his face that soon turned into a smirk. He was recalling his foray into the kitchen and meeting the older Hufflepuff girl. That had been rather fortunate that she knew where the other opening was and being able to get all that food to pack away for exploring. Stopping, he canted his head to the side and considered. Was he hungry enough to go to the kitchen and ask the over eager house elves to trip over themselves as they made him food?

Deciding that he wasn't, Raven was about to continue past the kitchens when he stopped to think again. Letting his brown eyes roam in contemplation, his lips quirked up. Pia was a 'Puff. The Hufflepuffs Dorm was near the kitchens if he recalled what Pia had told him correctly. He had found out after the fact that his friend had braved the dungeons in search of his Common Room last year. What kind of friend would he be if he in turn didn't search her out? Well, maybe that was just an excuse so he could spend some time with her.

Shrugging since he now had an activity and something to occupy himself so he wouldn't grow bored, the boy walked casually along, hands in the pockets of his corduroy pants. Whistling a tun he'd heard that was played often on the radio station his mum listened to almost obsessively, the Slytherin almost began to actually move to the tune that was playing in his head.

Of course, a sense of direction, Raven was not an inborn trait of his, so he got turned around and was completely lost. That was just great. Now how was he to find Pia? Sighing, he stopped and crossed his arms, canting his head as he thought about it. Shrugging, he began to walk and whistle again. 'Puffs were good finders right? Pia was always finding stuff even if she wasn't looking for it. So, even if she wasn't looking for Raven, she was bound to find him since he was in her territory right?

There was no need to worry anyways. If all else failed, he could be certain he'd be able to hear when the hoards of students made their way to the Great Hall for a meal. A bit more at ease, he continued his trek until he heard the scuffing sound of footsteps. Turning, prepared to inform whomever it was that he was not lost and knew exactly where he was, but the words didn't even make it out of his mouth. There was no need. Grinning, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Sup? Fancy meeting you here, eh?"

Cass is not very hungry today, and finds that a little sad. It is all down to her having a quite large amount of food up in her dormitory last night but still, she'd have thought that there was some part of her still eager for a bit more nourishment. Nevertheless, she needs to get out of her dorm and if going through the kitchens is the right way to go about it then so be it, she'll go through that way. Besides, the only other way of leaving Hufflepuff Common Room, she found, was to go through the window, and that didn't look so successful from her bed. Not to mention she'd gotten a few splinters in some tricky places (the back of her knee for example) from her broomstick- which made all of her brothers insistance that you didn't sit sidesaddle on a broomstick all into perspective- and she wasn't that sure she'd packed a light jacket.

Still, her mood brightens somewhat when she closes the Hufflepuff dorm door and heads out of Badger Territory entirely. The morning is positively absent of light, but Cass really likes these days, and it's only because she is positively a social genius that she doesn't mention to people that she hates sunny days because they give her headaches. This weather always promises rain in the end, anyway, so there sun!

As she focuses out of this little realisation, there seems to be a figure in front of her. The first thing to think when she sees someone appear out of nowhere to her is that she's either in trouble or been cornered by a dementor. Cass' hero Harry Potter had that happen to him once, in a street called Little Whinger, which Cass sometimes taunted Bradley and said that was where she found him. But no, it doesn't seem to be a Dementor, partly because it has two feet and also green trimming on his robes. So it's bound to be a Slytherin, unless her eyes are playing up, which she would only be glad for so she could blame said ailment on the sun.

"Fancy seeing you here,"
"Fancy yourself," she grumbled, sticking out her tongue. "There's nothing fancy about me being out of my common room, you know. We're allowed out of Hufflepuff. There's no secret meetings that we must stay inside for."
Which, you know, if there was, then Cass wasn't involved with. "And so, are you here for the buffet, the company, or, are you here to start an inter-house war?"

Raven turned away briefly to hide his grin when Pia replied. Had he implied that she was a prisoner? Of course if there were secret meetings, the boy couldn't really imagine a bunch of Hufflepuffs having a meeting about how to go about world domination. Then again, the 'Puffs would be the least likely suspects wouldn't they? No one would actually think a 'Puff would be that way. That was more in line of Slytherin, an ambitious Ravenclaw using advantages, or a fallen Gryffindor at the very least.

No, the Slytherin wasn't hungry and he would rather have the company. As for the inter-house war... That had potential. Canting his head, a smirk forming, Raven wondered if he could maybe talk a professor into having a huge water balloon fight. That would constitute as an inter-house war right? It would prove fun, as well as show Raven who could be potential running buddies and fellow pranksters.... And maybe they would be able to actually toss the balloons at the professors?

Trying and failing to hide his snicker, the boy instead attempted to put on an innocent expression. "Why couldn't I have just been passing by and we happened to meet by happenstance?"

Looking positively furious, Cass eyed him down. "What, and you think us Hufflepuffs aren't able to hold secret meetings? I told you- a Slytherin- about our secret meetings which defeats the having-an-actual-secret-meeting, yeah, but I trust you not to snake around and be a spy or anything. But if you have, then I will be at my liberty to kill you," she says, smugly. "It's always the ones you least expect, you know?"

Cass could see that smirk a yard off. He was definitely planning something. She was only hoping that it wasn't something she'd said. She didn't want to be the source of all of his deadly plans. Oh no, she wasn't getting involved.

"I don't think so," she spluttered. "You're a very deliberate sort of person, I should think."
Cass took a look around the kitchen, eager to find something she could eat for later. Stocking up like a hamster, tick. Something big and heavy, like a casserole or a lasagna or a stew.
"Well?" she said plainly. "Are you going to come and help me or not?"

Hands on her hips, she scanned through the cupboard.

Grinning, Raven nodded in agreement. Oh he knew it was always the ones that they least suspect. What was great about his and Pia's friendship was that even if she didn't know it, they though a lot alike. And it was always funny seeing the shock on peoples faces when they found out that Pia was his best friend and fellow plotter.

Clasping his hands behind his back, the boy rocked back and forth on his heels, brown eyes lighting up with mirth. "Ah, but you know me best, Pia. You know that half the time I make things up as I go along. I just wing it. Not deliberate at all."

Watching his friend rummaging around he arched his brow. When he was asked to help he slowly walked towards her. "We're not going to be making another of your cauliflower puree mash stuff are we?"

Last time he'd tried to make it in his kitchen, his mum had a fit. Of course, at the time he had no idea what it entailed and just basically tried to do to it what you did with mashed potatoes.

"I'd call you knowingly winging it deliberate alright," she grumbles. "You can't half make an impact when you 'don't want to', you know. I've had you down as a sneaker ever since you were seven buddy. Slytherin or no Slytherin," says Cass, wagging her finger.

Cass has a little think about Raven's last statement, "I don't know about knowing you best, but I am quite good at knowing," she says smugly, obviously not in the know. She keeps her knowing smile on her face and folds her arms. "That's what you do best anyways. Making it up as you go along. There's no better way when it comes to Raven Drake!"

She can't find anything of a good interest. Not even anything that's remotely good for even a food fight. Nothing at all. Humph. "Dear brother, if you wanted to make the thing Angels sleep on all you had to do was ask, really. And if you want Cauliflower Pureé, then yes, yes you may."

Cass reasoned a measley Second Year Hufflepuff couldn't possibly stop someone such as Raven Drake, prolific Slytherin when he wanted a bit of food making could she now?

"How do you know?" Raven asked half serious and half poutingly. It wasn't like he tried to make an impact anywhere he went. He was just always himself. He couldn't help but grin at the latter half of her sentence though. Laughing he agreed stating, "I can't help it if I'm good at sneaking. And wasn't my fault that mum had to show me those delicious deserts then stick them up atop the icebox telling me not to touch."

In Raven's opinion telling a child they couldn't touch something as delectable as that was just asking for them to get into it. Everyone knew if you told a little kid not to do something they were bound to do it. Reverse psychology. And he quite prided himself on winging it and making things up as he went along. He puffed up a little bit and grinned back smugly at his friend.

"Oh trust me Pia," Raven replied as he rummaged around looking for ingredients or preferably something already made up, "You do know me best. Or at least better than anyone here does."

Trying to hide his expression when Pia thought he actually wanted to make the stuff, he picked up the pace of his rummaging. He'd better find something fast. Taking out an unlabeled container, he frowned. "Shouldn't this stuff be labeled?"

Shrugging, he tried to open the lid and grunted a bit when he couldn't. Holding it up to his ear he shook it and listened. There was no sloshing, so it wasn't liquid in the sealed condiment container. There was definite movement so it had to be a powder and not a paste or jellied substance. "Hey, Pia. What do you reckon this is?"

"I'll have to anonymously send you some sneakers so you can wear them on your jaunts around the castle. I'll make them extra squeaky so that you'll get caught every corner you go," she said, adding a little evil giggle afterwards.

"Labelled?" she asked incredulously, before taking a better look at what he was talking about but instead something caught her attention on her personal shelf; something was out of place. Immediately, she snatched it the shelf. How was her container in that pile on her personal shelf?! Either a poltergeist, a hufflepuff or an unordinarily jumpy toad was the reason for this, and she threw a filthy look at her satchel on the stool where Bradley either was or wasn't sleeping in and opened the container to show Raven.

"The best thing about having an unlabelled container is people think it's important. Especially if it's with other unlabelled ones. You just have to mark it so no-one can tell it's yours."
Cass holds the lid of her own food box to the light to show an etching in the corner of the transparent top, rubbing her finger along the groove.

"Back-up food," she says proudly, displaying her arms around this particular side of the cupboard. "All mine. And what you're holding is my own grounded pepper. Mum has the pestle and mortar and the pepper seeds of course. At least I think they're seeds," she muses. "I'm sure somewhere in here will be the back up Pureé," she says, motioning to her shelf.