Harry Potter and the Strings of Order

Learning to Serve

"Control, Miss Granger," Kyla said, her voice firm but calm. "Your movements must be deliberate, disciplined. Try again."

Hermione steadied herself, holding the pitcher more firmly, and poured another glass. This time, she managed to keep the stream steady, stopping at just the right level. Kyla nodded approvingly and moved on to the next person.

As they finished with the pouring exercise, Kyla called them to attention once more. "Serving is not only about precision. It is about presence. How you present yourself matters. A servant of the House must greet each guest and each master with respect and poise."

Kyla demonstrated, bowing her head in a graceful nod. "When greeting a Master or Mistress, you will lower your head slightly, eyes down, and say, 'Good morning, Master,' or 'Good evening, Mistress.' Your tone should be respectful, without eagerness or hesitation. If you are addressing Mother or Father, you must say, 'Good morning, Father' or 'Good evening, Mother,' with the utmost reverence."

Hermione watched, her curiosity piqued. She felt a strange thrill at hearing these titles, understanding that this was a world entirely different from her own.

"Now, practice," Kyla instructed, gesturing toward her. "Approach me as though I were one of the family."

The first servant in line stepped forward, bowing their head and murmuring, "Good morning, Mistress." Kyla nodded, satisfied, and the servant stepped back.

Hermione's turn came, and she approached Kyla, her mind racing. She felt an instinctive urge to speak plainly, to look her directly in the eyes, but forced herself to follow the instruction.

She lowered her head, her gaze fixed on the floor. "Good morning, Mistress," she said, trying to keep her tone steady and respectful.

Kyla nodded, though her gaze lingered on Hermione, as if she sensed her hesitation. "Well done," she said, but there was a faint note of challenge in her voice. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that Kyla was testing her, waiting to see if she would break the rules.

After greeting practice, Kyla led them to another part of the hall, where a table was set with covered dishes. She gestured to the platters with a calm, expectant look.

"Serving food requires attention to detail and awareness of the guest's preferences," she said. "When serving, hold the dish at the guest's shoulder, allowing them to choose before placing it on the table. Each movement must be smooth, unobtrusive, yet attentive. You are to serve as though you are invisible, yet indispensable."

Hermione's curiosity grew as she observed Kyla's instructions, following her every move. She picked up a dish, holding it carefully and approaching the table as instructed. She felt oddly self-conscious, the weight of Kyla's gaze making her painfully aware of each small movement.

Once again, Kyla offered guidance, correcting the angle of Hermione's arms, reminding her to keep her posture straight, her hands steady. By the end of the exercise, Hermione's arms ached from the weight of the platter, but she was determined not to falter.

Finally, Kyla addressed them one last time, her tone firm and unyielding. "In this House, you are not here to be seen. You are here to serve, to bring order and respect to each task. Follow these principles, and you may find purpose in what you do."

Hermione took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and strange satisfaction. The tasks, though simple, demanded focus, and she had never been forced to engage with such detail before. But part of her resisted, the questions bubbling beneath the surface.

She raised her hand, speaking cautiously. "But, Kyla... why is everything so strict? Why must we follow these rules to the letter?"

Kyla's eyes flashed with a faint hint of irritation. She walked over, stopping directly in front of Hermione, her gaze stern. "The rules, Miss Granger, are not open to interpretation. They are to be followed, without question, without delay. You would do well to remember that."

Hermione clenched her fists, feeling a surge of frustration, but she lowered her gaze, choosing silence over defiance. Kyla nodded, as if satisfied, and moved on to address the rest of the group.

At the end of the training session, Kyla dismissed them, her gaze sweeping over them one final time. "Remember the rules. They will guide you, give you purpose. In this House, we are all bound to them, from the highest master to the humblest servant. Learn them well."

As they filed out of the hall, Hermione felt her mind churning. She didn't understand this place, its customs, or its rigid order. But one thing was becoming clear: this House was unlike anywhere she had ever been. And if she was to survive here—if she was to find Harry—she would need to adapt, at least for now.

Dinner in the Servants' Hall

That evening, Hermione joined the other servants in the hall for dinner. As she waited in line, she glanced around, noticing how everyone moved in quiet unity, their steps aligned, their gazes focused. There was an odd calmness in the room, as though each person found comfort in the discipline and order they served.

When her turn came, she received the same modest meal: a piece of bread, a cup of soup, two thin slices of meat, and water. She took her tray to a table, sitting alone as she quietly ate.

Her thoughts drifted to the lessons of the day, to the weight of the House's rules, and to the quiet authority of Kyla. She couldn't help but feel an odd respect for her, despite the woman's strictness. The tasks themselves felt trivial, yet in their simplicity, they demanded something she wasn't used to—absolute focus, an attention to detail that left no room for questions.

And as Hermione ate her meal in silence, she began to understand, just a little, the purpose behind the House's order. It was a place that demanded one's full attention, a place that left no room for outside distractions.

But as she finished her meal, she couldn't shake the thought of Harry, wondering what he had found here, and why he had chosen to stay.

Tomorrow, she decided, she would learn more. But for now, she would follow, she would observe, and perhaps—she would begin to understand.