((Littlefinger's motives for coming to Hogwarts stolen from Camilla. Thanks!))
A short man with grey-green eyes and a goatee strolled leisurely through the Great Hall to the head table. His elegant silk blue cloak with its silver mockingbird clasp was caked with mud, but he was smiling. "I should really have a talk with that Thoros," he drawled. "
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He briefly considered fondling her. Then he realized that she looked more like Eddard than like Catelyn. He felt a pang of disappointment.
"Arya of House Stark? I'm Petyr Baelish, former Master of the Coin under King Robert and King Joffrey," he said, crouching down to her height and extending a hand to her. "Your mother was an old, old friend of mine. She was more than that, actually, but that's not for the ears of a child."
Interesting. Very interesting. His brain was racing to work out the implications of finding the younger Stark daughter. If it would ever be in his best interests to invalidate the Bolton bastard's claim to Winterfell, he could produce this girl and prove his Stark bride an impostor.
And if it wouldn't be in his best interests...well, there were always those convenient crossbow quarrels to get rid of the evidence. After all, it wasn't as if the girl looked anything like Catelyn.
((Petyr's sources haven't told him about the no-kill rule.))
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Petyr's smile disappeared. Arya's words had struck the most (and possibly only) vulnerable part of him.
"Really," he said, a sharp edge in his voice. "Love. You are aware that their fathers arranged the match for political purposes, right? And that your mother would have just as cheerfully married Brandon Stark if Aerys hadn't got to him first? And I suppose you don't think the bastard your lord father sired rather gives the lie to your silly fantasy that their marriage was a glorious romance?" As the hurt from his wounded pride subsided, he realized something about Arya's comment had been off. "Why are you using present tense? Your father is dead."
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Arya narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on Needle, though she didn't draw it, now that she had her SORT OF ALIVE YEY parents back and needed to keep in mind what they would think of her. She didn't think that grievously wounding someone from home, no matter what a camel's cunt they were being, would go over well with either of them. She didn't grace him with an answer to his blatant lies! version of events.
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