Book 1: The First Year (ROTBTD Hogwarts AU) (PREQUEL)

17. Hiccup's POV: Late November

Something that no one in the castle talked about was the fact that there were no rules stating whether or not students were allowed into the Hogwarts kitchens. This was mainly due to the kitchens residing in the domain of the castle's Imāris', and as such they were the ones who decided who or what was and was not allowed.

Despite how vast and airy the kitchens were, it didn't really do much to help Hiccup and his nose when standing right next to the stove. Trying to subtly wipe said nose didn't work either when he was surrounded by kitchen underlings all tittering at him.

"Shameless, the lot of you. Absolutely shameless," the hare in charge of them chided. He stirred the steaming pot with a deft paw, his other keeping a firm grip on the huge, copper handle. "As if none of you ever started out as a greenling. Some human young just can't handle their spices and that's all that needs to be said about it."

"It says here that this is a sweet dish," said a larger than average mouse, peeking over the shoulder of a larger than average weasel, who held the witch's travel diary.

"Even so, it's none of your places to judge."

"Can I have my book back now?" Hiccup asked. The weasel stuck her tongue out at him.

"We're almost done, young master, don't you fret." The hare turned back to smile at him.

He made a series of sharp clicking noises that sent several of the underlings into disarray, until one of them emerged from the fray with a huge sampling bowl and held it up for the hare to ladle a large portion of the food into.

"Taste test!" The underling screamed. The others converged upon them. Hiccup was promptly shunted out of the group and just barely caught a nearby counter before he could faceplant the floor.

Somewhere in the confusion they all ended up getting their shares and eagerly barked, chirruped, squeaked, and hissed their opinions. Over a month of hearing it did not make it any easier to understand or get used to.

Hiccup was still in the middle of unraveling the chatter when several of the creatures reached their paws up and unleashed thin strands of magic that lifted the pot off of the stove and sent it floating away, the herd of them all running alongside it to most likely cart it off to depths unknown. The only ones who stayed behind were the weasel and the hare.

And also a different field mouse, who came sprinting over to them waving a sheet of paper. "Done!" he squeaked, giving it to the weasel.

"Finally. I've been waiting here for ages. We have things to do, you know," she complained.

"Ha! As if you didn't enjoy the watching."

The weasel rolled her eyes, not bothering to knock the mouse off of where he'd climbed onto her shoulder. "Oh, stuff it. We still need to get this into the books. Onwards!" The weasel dashed off.

She made it a few steps away before skidding to a halt. "Oh, right. Here, catch!" She spun around just long enough to pelt the book in Hiccup's direction. Hiccup had to stand and watch it go sailing through the air while his heart made the terrible decision to pull the blood from his veins.

Somehow, he caught his book before it met an untimely end. The hare chuckled.

Hiccup shot him a glower. The hare answered it with a grin that said, 'you could've caught that with magic if you'd wanted to, you know'. Which, true, but still—that didn't mean he had to be happy about the rough handling. His poor book was tattered enough; it deserved better.