0591 Sneaking

It was approaching ten o’clock, and under normal circumstances, the castle would not be this deserted at this hour. There were always some adventurous young wizards who loved to wander and explore the castle after curfew. But on this particular evening, perhaps due to the bitterly cold weather that seeped through even the thickest of cloaks, Hermione found the castle eerily deserted as she lingered for a while on the second-floor, and she did not see any young wizards or professors in the entrance hall below.

Thud, thud, thud – her footsteps echoed loudly in the hall as she hurried down the stone stairs. The howling wind whipped through the open front doors, puffing up her black wizard’s robe so that it rose behind her like a flowing cloak.

Hermione clutched her clattering book bag tightly to her chest as she paused briefly in the entrance hall, her eyes darted left and right as she discerned which direction to take. Decisively, she turned and ran quickly to the left side of the hall where a heavy wooden door stood slightly open, leading down to the castle’s basement.

As soon as Hermione crossed the threshold, she was enveloped by warmth which was a stark contrast to the chilly entrance hall. The underground passage leading to the cozy Hufflepuff common room had a completely different ambiance and style from the damp, gloomy one that led to the Slytherin dungeon.

Here, torches burned brightly in iron candleholders every few steps on both sides of the stone corridor, bathing the space in a warm, golden glow and chasing away the deep chill.

Hermione paused beneath one of the flickering torches, rubbing her hands together and stamping her numb feet until the feeling started to return. She took a moment to collect herself, then nervously took a deep breath and walked forward cautiously.

BANG!

A sudden, sharp noise from behind made Hermione nearly jump out of her skin.

Heart pounding, she turned around to look back the way she had come, her wand was already in her hand with a defensive spell on her lips. But the long stone passage stretched away behind her was deserted and still with no shadowy figure or looming threat to be seen.

After a moment of tense consideration, Hermione thought that the startling sound had most likely been caused by a strong gust of wind slamming shut the heavy wooden door she had left open at the top of the stairs. She hadn’t latched it properly in her rush to get away from the cold gusts howling through the Entrance Hall.

This reasonable deduction allowed Hermione to heave a huge sigh of relief. The absolute last thing she needed right now was to run into a curious Hufflepuff student or patrolling professor; she wouldn’t know how to explain her presence here.

In fact, she had considered borrowing Harry’s invisibility cloak, but ultimately decided against it. The cloak Hagrid had hurriedly made for her use in the Triwizard Tournament was in tatters after the events of the competition, and to borrow Harry’s, she would’ve had to explain to both him and Ron exactly what she needed it for.

And until she had some concrete results to show for her efforts, Hermione simply wasn’t ready to bring them in on her plan. They would probably think she’d gone round the twist again.

The unsettling thud and resulting spike of adrenaline made Hermione realize she was dawdling, lingering too long in one place as her overactive imagination ran away with her.

Determined to carry on, she turned her back on the empty stone corridor and continued forward at as swift a pace as she dared, craning her neck and narrowing her eyes she studied the oil paintings that covered both walls, stretching as far as the torchlight illuminated.

The paintings depicted a bewildering range of strange and wondrous foodstuffs, some recognizable and delicious-looking, others so bizarre they twisted the stomach.

Hermione paid these unsettling paintings no more than a passing, distracted glance as she hurried by. Her gaze flicked from frame to frame, never resting on one for more than a heartbeat or two. Under her breath, she muttered a few words to herself,

“Silver bowl… fruits, then a large green pear, where could it be…”

It took another hundred and eighty feet or so of brisk walking, but eventually Hermione found the object of her search. Directly in front of her, illuminated by the blazing light of two wall candles, was an oil painting with the image of a silver bowl piled high with ripe, luscious-looking fruits.

Hermione ran over excitedly. She looked carefully for a few moments, then a smile blossomed on her flushed face,

“Okay, yes, this is it. Fred said I should…”

“You should tickle that pear with your finger-” A sudden, eerily familiar voice spoke up from right behind her left shoulder.

“Oh, you’re right Harry, thank you. I need to just reach up and…”

It took Hermione’s overclocked brain a full three seconds to realize she was conversing with empty air. She blinked once, twice, then turned her head around so fast she nearly gave herself stroke. Her huge, startled eyes scanned the seemingly empty corridor, then narrowed in suspicion. She reached out with both hands, groping at the air, then latched onto something silky and slippery and pulled it.

With that pull, the invisibility cloak slid to her hand, revealing a sheepish Harry and a smug-looking Ron standing behind her. The three friends stood locked in silence stared at each surrounded by nothing but the oppressively close stone walls and the faint crackling of the torches.

“YOU FOLLOWED ME!”

Hermione’s shocked exclamation shattered the tense silence. In a fit of annoyance, she tossed her heavy book bag at Ron, who caught it awkwardly against his chest with a startled “oof.” and glared at them furiously,

“I can’t BELIEVE you two! you dare do this!”

“Hey now,” Ron protested weakly. “We never thought you’d lie to us.”

Ron flipped open the flap of Hermione’s bag and searched around inside for a moment before withdrawing a round pin inscribed with the familiar abbreviation S.P.E.W. – Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare and he held it up in an accusing manner flipping it back and forth, and snorted,

“Going to the library to make up for lost study time over Christmas hols’ indeed. Your ability to spin utter rubbish has greatly improved of late, Hermione. Luckily Harry was smart enough to figure out right quick that this passage leads to the kitchens, not the library!”

Hermione glared fiercely at the sheepishly smiling Harry with her eyes, finally realizing how she had been exposed.

“Well, since you two have already sunk to the level of creepy stalkers, you might as well make yourselves useful,” Hermione snapped bossily after a moment. She latched onto each of their arms in an intensely tight grip and dragged them over to her side in front of the oil painting.

“Now come in with me. I’m going to have a chat with Reega, she’s Freodom’s mother. You two can help me promote our ideas to the house-elves in the kitchen-“

“Those are your ideas-“

Harry said in a voice full of grievance. He was starting to regret following Hermione now.

But Hermione completely ignored their complaints. She grabbed their arms and pulled them next to her. Then, swallowing, she reached out her index finger and tickled the green pear on the silver bowl.

Fred and George were frequent visitors to the kitchen, but Harry, Ron and Hermione had never barged into the kitchen before. Under their nervous gaze, the green pear squirmed and grunted, then suddenly turned into a large green door handle.

“Maybe we should put the cloak back on?” Harry suggested nervously as Hermione boldly grasped the knob and gave it a sharp twist. “There could be professors in there, not just House Elves.”

But his warning fell on deaf ears. With typical Gryffindor recklessness, Hermione twisted open the hidden door and pulled her two reluctant co-conspirators over the threshold before they could utter another word of protest.

The trio huddled together just inside the doorway for a moment, blinking their eyes widely as they took in the massive, bustling space before them.

In a hurried glance, Harry only saw a high-ceilinged room as large as the Great Hall above. Many shiny copper pots and pans were piled up against the stone walls around. On the other side of the room was a large brick fireplace, with a row of brick stoves on either side. Just as Harry was scrutinizing the four long tables in the middle of the large kitchen, an excited scream suddenly came from the other end of the kitchen!

“Harry Potter, sir!”

The sudden shout made Harry, Ron and Hermione all tremble in fright. Harry even saw a small dark shadow rapidly approaching him. He quickly pulled out his wand from his pocket, which indeed made the small dark shadow rushing toward him restrain itself a lot. It braked with its heels on the ground. After a long braking distance, it finally stopped in front of them!

“Do…Dobby?”

When he looked at the face of this little creature, Harry’s expression suddenly froze. He asked in a daze, and his inquiring voice also caused the nervous Hermione and Ron to look stunned.

‘Dobby?’

Ron mouthed incredulously at Harry over Hermione’s bushy head, staring at the creature in front of him that might be the most oddly dressed he had ever seen.

‘Wasn’t this the completely nutters House Elf who had belonged to the Malfoys? The one who, in their Second Year, had charmed a Bludger to try to take Harry’s head off during a match, and then proceeded to make it his life’s mission to “save” Harry from apparent threats, even if it killed him? The one who had sealed the wall to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King’s Cross Station in their second year, forcing him and Harry to come to school in his father’s illegally enchanted car?

What in the name of Merlin’s pants was HE doing in the Hogwarts kitchens?’

“It IS Dobby, sir, it is, it is!”

Now that Harry called out its name, Dobby suddenly became lively again. It was no longer afraid of the wand in Harry’s hand, but rushed over and fiercely collided with Harry’s abdomen, hugging him tightly.

“Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see his friend Harry Potter again! And now Harry Potter and his Wheezy have come to the kitchens at last! And they is bringing the great, the wonderful Miss Hermione Granger with them!”

Dobby let go and took a few steps back, looking at Harry with a big smile, his tennis ball-sized green eyes brimming with joyful tears.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then at Harry.

Harry never dreamed that he would see Dobby in the Hogwarts kitchen. He had even chatted with Crouch’s house-elf Winky about Dobby for a bit on the night of the Quidditch final. Harry thought Dobby was still wandering homeless searching for work now!

“But… But what are you doing HERE?” Harry blurted, his voice slightly higher pitched than normal due to his lingering astonishment. He never in his wildest dreams (or worst nightmares, frankly) thought he’d ever see Dobby turn up in the Hogwarts kitchens, of all places! “How did you end up at Hogwarts?”

“Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, Harry Potter, sir!” The ecstatic Elf bounced up and down screaming excitedly. “Professor Dumbledore is giving Dobby and his friend Winky jobs!!”

“Winky?”

Hermione immediately perked up. She had a deep impression of this house-elf who had been kicked out by Crouch for an unjust accusation. It could even be said that it was Winky’s painful experience that ignited the idea in Hermione’s heart to fight for the rights and interests of house-elves.

Hermione raised her head to look at the house-elves who had stopped their work and were respectfully looking at the three of them. She searched for Winky’s figure among them.

“Where is she?”

Dobby obviously recognized that the lady standing with Harry Potter was one of the Triwizard champions, a powerful figure who could handle dragons. It tilted its body and pointed to the other end of the kitchen, saying in a respectful tone,

“Right over there, respected Miss Granger. If you wish, Dobby can lead you to see her!”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep