novelraw Chapter 20: Hogwarts Kitchen
Chapter 20: Hogwarts Kitchen
Chapter Twenty: Hogwarts Kitchen
At one o'clock in the morning, Draco Malfoy appeared in the Hogwarts kitchens wearing light grey pajamas.
More than a hundred house-elves in Hogwarts tea towels turned in unison, their faces beaming as they bowed and curtseyed.
This was mortifying. A respectable Malfoy never appeared in public in his nightclothes—not even before house-elves.
This catastrophe had begun two hours earlier.
It was an evening after Easter. He'd just finished his tedious essay on the magical history of the Self-Stirring Cauldron and was preparing for bed when—CRACK—a strangely dressed creature suddenly appeared before him.
Draco barely recognized Dobby.
The elf's outfit looked like it had been assembled by the world's most irresponsible child. From the teapot-shaped tea cozy on his head to the cluster of brightly colored badges pinned to his chest; from his horseshoe-patterned tie to his mismatched shorts—not to mention the two different socks—everything clashed spectacularly.
"Dobby has found it!" he shrieked, clutching a thin black book.
"Really? Give it here immediately." Draco leapt up, abandoning any thought of criticizing Dobby's wardrobe.
Dobby respectfully handed over the book, thoughtfully opened to the correct page.
The description of Horcruxes was only a few lines, but it was enough—precisely what Draco had been missing.
*"If one wishes to create a Horcrux, the caster must use the spell to split the soul and seal fragments into a container..."*
Soul-splitting... Draco drummed his fingers on the desk thoughtfully.
"Geminio." He waved his wand and duplicated the book, then handed the copy—its cover so blackened the title was illegible—back to Dobby.
"Well done, Dobby. Return this copy to where you found it." Seeing Dobby's eyes welling with tears at the praise, Draco wisely changed subject. "Where did you find this book?"
But no sooner had he finished than Dobby began banging his head against the wall.
"Dobby is a bad elf! Dobby has betrayed his master's trust!" the elf kept shrieking, as though he'd committed murder.
"Dobby, I order you to stop! Explain yourself," Draco commanded immediately. Fortunately, he'd had the foresight to cast a Silencing Charm on the entire room before Dobby's arrival.
Otherwise, such commotion would have woken half the dormitory.
Dobby finally ceased his self-punishment, panting weakly. "Thank you, Master! Dobby searched the entire library! Dobby couldn't find it!"
He blinked his round, tennis-ball-sized eyes pitifully. "So Dobby searched and searched, and finally found it in that room—that evil room!"
Draco watched the elf regain his swagger, hopping with delight at his own cleverness. "Which room?"
"Oh! Master! That's the master's secret chamber, the one hidden beneath the drawing room! It's full of evil Dark magic!" Dobby shrieked.
Then he shuddered and charged at Draco's wardrobe, intending to bash it with his head.
"Stop! Dobby, I command you not to punish yourself without my permission! Why are you punishing yourself?" Draco rubbed his temples in annoyance and called Dobby, who was now bowing and thanking him repeatedly, closer.
"The master doesn't allow us inside freely. It's a secret. There are many Dark artifacts hidden there." Dobby shrank back, clearly frightened. "But the noble young master wanted Dobby to find the book, so Dobby had to search until he found it."
"Dobby, you did excellently." Draco resolved to visit that chamber during summer holidays.
He knew the room—the forbidden collection at Malfoy Manor.
In his previous timeline, when he'd actually ventured inside, he'd been fifteen or sixteen. By then, the place had been nearly empty, nothing remarkable remaining.
But what had been stored there during his childhood remained a mystery he'd never investigated.
He'd never thought about that chamber before. In his memory, it had been unremarkable.
Moreover, it had later been transformed by the Dark Lord into a prison—a filthy, terrifying place. He'd avoided it unless absolutely necessary.
He didn't want to remember.
But now Draco couldn't help his curiosity. Once summer began, he would investigate that chamber properly, see what secrets it held.
Dobby stood trembling, face pale.
Draco studied the elf's pitiful state with an inscrutable expression, reassessing his value.
Unexpectedly, Dobby had actually found information about Horcruxes—Draco had nearly given up hope.
This elf was surprisingly useful. Though annoyingly loud, he got results. His abilities exceeded expectations.
"Do you like Chocolate Frogs? There's one on the table. Sit and have it," Draco said kindly.
Dobby hesitated, glancing at Draco furtively. Seeing he wasn't joking, Dobby followed his young master's instructions.
He quickly grabbed a chocolate from the corner, unwrapped it with shaking hands, and ate it.
"Better?" Draco asked.
"Dobby—Dobby feels much better," he said, trembling. His expression had calmed somewhat. He was examining the card from the Chocolate Frog with enormous eyes.
"Who's that?" Draco asked.
"Cornelius Agrippa," Dobby said, blinking.
"Excellent. I hear that card's quite rare and popular among collectors," Draco said. "Keep it."
The elf seemed to brighten. He examined his first Chocolate Frog card with delight, turning it over repeatedly, apparently forgetting his earlier distress.
Draco studied Dobby's expression carefully. "Father told me you're now my personal house-elf. From now on, you answer only to me. My standards will be higher than others', so you needn't punish yourself for such things."
Dobby nodded happily, bowing so low his large ears swept the carpet.
Draco had long known Dobby was unusual—an anomaly among house-elves.
After leaving the Malfoys, Dobby had reportedly visited various estates seeking employment and even requesting wages.
He'd heard this from Pansy Parkinson, self-proclaimed gossip queen.
Which conservative pure-blood wizard would accept such an unorthodox house-elf?
But Dobby wasn't without merit.
He could read and had found books about Horcruxes.
He could Apparate—even into Hogwarts, supposedly Apparition-proof.
He possessed wisdom rivaling wizards. In Draco's previous timeline, he'd rescued Potter right under the Death Eaters' noses.
Most terrifying—he'd done all this without a wand. His magic might exceed many adult wizards', potentially invaluable in crucial moments.
In a way, Dobby's abilities were worth compensation. Better to bribe him with money than let him betray the Malfoys and spill their secrets.
Draco spoke carefully. "Dobby, you're a capable elf. I can pay you if you need it."
Undisguised surprise flashed in Dobby's eyes.
"Ten Galleons weekly. How's that?"
"No!" Dobby's surprise transformed to terror, as though the coins were poisonous. "Master, that's too much! It would ruin Dobby!"
"Five Galleons weekly?"
"Still too much! Young master, Dobby hasn't fallen so far! Dobby can survive months on one Galleon!" the elf shrieked.
"One Galleon weekly. Final offer. Plus weekends off," Draco said impatiently.
Dobby jumped about frantically, tugging his ears. "Master gives Dobby too much! Dobby likes freedom, but not too much freedom! Dobby prefers working!"
"Dobby, stop!" Draco said helplessly.
What bizarre house-elf complained about excessive pay?
"Then what do you want?"
Dobby nervously twisted his long, thin fingers. "Dobby wants one Galleon monthly, and one day off monthly."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Fine. We'll accumulate holidays—take them together, perhaps seven consecutive days for a beach holiday."
Dobby shuddered at the mention of extended leave, and Draco quickly added, "Or convert unused holidays into wages."
"Also, when you complete tasks well, I'll give bonuses or extra holidays." He waved his wand, and ten Galleons appeared beside Dobby.
"Your reward for excellent work this time," Draco said.
Dobby stared at the Galleons in disbelief, lips trembling, then sobbed. "My great young master... no one has ever treated Dobby like this..."
Good.
"Now Dobby won't be clamouring for freedom constantly," Draco thought.
"Right, take them. By the way, Dobby—how can you Apparate into Hogwarts?" Draco suddenly remembered, finding it incredible.
*Hogwarts: A History* clearly stated wizards couldn't Apparate within the castle.
"Dobby doesn't know." Dobby barely stopped crying, shaking his head, pointed ears swaying. "Dobby has always been able to come to Hogwarts. Dobby even visits friends." He suddenly covered his mouth, as though he'd said too much.
"Friends? You have friends?" Draco asked with interest. "House-elves?"
Dobby blinked and nodded fearfully.
"At Hogwarts?"
"Yes." Dobby relaxed when Draco showed no anger. "They're all in the kitchens, preparing food for the school. They serve Hogwarts. Hundreds of them."
"Take me there," Draco said, showing genuine interest for the first time. "I've been curious about the Hogwarts kitchens for ages."
Before he'd finished speaking, Dobby rushed forward and grabbed his arm.
Draco felt himself being squeezed violently—his eyes, nose, and eardrums pushed deep into his skull...
In his previous life, Draco had used Apparition regularly, but he'd never been fond of it as transportation.
"We've arrived, young master," Dobby said cheerfully.
"Oh, Dobby," Draco said, fighting nausea, "I didn't mean bring me here *now*."
Two house-elves had thoughtfully positioned an armchair behind him, and a table floated before him.
Several other elves brought a large silver tray with steaming cocoa, a large teapot, milk, and plates laden with cakes and biscuits.
"No, no, no," Draco said hastily as Dobby moved to touch him again. "I can't manage another Apparition just now."
He sank into the comfortable velvet armchair and sipped his cocoa.
"Ah, delicious. Thank you," Draco said.
The elves looked delighted, bowing slightly before retreating.
"I'll rest here briefly." Draco slowly drank his cocoa, observing the house-elves watching him covertly. They wore tea towels emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest and were impeccably groomed—unlike Dobby.
"Wait—" Draco called.
A house-elf stopped, curtseyed, and looked at him timidly.
"How do I find this place again?" Draco asked.
It was a female elf whose voice was clearer than Dobby's.
"Sir, you must go down from the Entrance Hall to the corridor below. There's a painting of a large silver fruit bowl. Tickle the green pear, sir, and the door opens."
"Thank you, Winky," Dobby said cheerfully, apparently naming the friend he'd mentioned.
"Why haven't I seen you before?" Draco asked her.
"We don't usually appear before wizards, sir. We're invisible when cleaning dormitories and common rooms," she said respectfully.
"Can you Apparate within Hogwarts?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. Most Anti-Apparition Charms don't affect us," she said respectfully.
Extraordinary!
Merlin—he'd inadvertently discovered a major flaw in Hogwarts' defenses.
If Death Eaters knew house-elves' capabilities, Hogwarts would be as penetrable as a sieve. He wouldn't have needed to spend months repairing that Vanishing Cabinet in his previous life.
But how many wizards bothered about lowly house-elves' abilities?
Most pure-bloods regarded them as menial servants, never imagining they possessed abilities beyond housework.
Draco nodded, indicating no further questions. The elf, perceptive, bowed again and withdrew.
The cocoa's warmth rekindled his drowsy mind, prompting reconsideration of soul-splitting spells and Quirrell's current state.
The Dark Lord had probably only possessed Quirrell—not actually imprisoned a soul fragment on the back of his skull.
Otherwise, how could he have escaped so easily in the previous timeline?
"Dobby, from now on, watch Quirrell. Report anything unusual. Keep your distance—don't let him discover you," he instructed.
Dobby puffed out his chest and nodded, apparently proud to be useful.
CRACK—the elf vanished.
"Wait—" Draco stood, reaching out, but too late.
Dobby reacted too quickly.
"Never mind. I'll walk back," he thought absently.
Draco wasn't keen on Apparating again. He finished his cocoa contentedly, feeling much better.
Guided by Winky's enthusiastic directions, he walked through the enormous high-ceilinged room—as large as the Great Hall above.
He looked around curiously. Four long wooden tables—identical to those in the Great Hall—stood empty. Copper pots and pans lined the walls, and a large brick fireplace dominated one end.
The food appearing in the Great Hall must be placed on these tables first, then sent upstairs by magic, Draco thought.
As he moved toward the door, numerous elves gathered, handing him packages of cream cakes, biscuits, and pies.
Draco thanked them politely and took his leave, making the house-elves bow and curtsey repeatedly in delight.
If there were an elective course in the Hogwarts kitchens, Crabbe and Goyle would rush to enroll, wouldn't they? Draco thought drowsily, munching a chocolate muffin.
For them, this place—with its endless food supply—would be paradise.
Who'd have thought? He'd imagined stealing kitchen food would be difficult, but the house-elves handed it over enthusiastically!
He ate another muffin, then stealthily climbed the stairs to the Entrance Hall along the brightly lit corridor, before slipping quietly down the opposite staircase into the dark passage where the Slytherin common room lay.