Magic? || Years 1-5

Hermione And The House-Elves: Year 4

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table cheered. Fred and George hissed.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

So it was Colin's brother.

He tripped forward, barely able to move in Hagrid's massive cloak. Speaking of which, Hagrid had just walked into the Great Hall.

He gave them a wink as he sat down, focusing his attention on Dennis.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Dennis was beaming so brightly Amisty was sure his face was glowing as he raced over to go sit next to his brother.

"Colin, I fell in! It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed bmeback in the boat!" He exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.

"Cool! It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!" Colin replied, his voice rivaling Dennis's in enthusiasm.

"Wow!" Dennis's eyes went even wider.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there?" Colin whispered suddenly. "The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

Amisty saw Harry look away, the tips of his ears pink.

She snorted, covering her smile with her hand as Emma Dobbs got sorted into Ravenclaw.

As it continued, she looked over to find Ron rubbing his stomach. He groaned dramatically, "Oh hurry up."

"Now, Ron, the Sorting is much more important than food," Nearly Headless Nick scolded him.

"Madley, Laura!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"'Course it is, if you're dead," Ron snapped back.

"McDonald, Natalie!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

They all clapped as Nick continued, "I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch. We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And then finally, there was only one boy left.

"Whitby, Kevin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Sorting was officially over.

Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and stool and carried them off to the side.

"About time," Ron licked his lips hungrily, picking up his knife and fork and staring at his plate expectantly.

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, his arms spread out wide in welcome as he smiled around at them, "I have only two words to say to you. Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" Harry and Ron shouted as the dishes surrounding them were piled high with every food imaginable.

Nick watched in jealousy as the four of them loaded up their plates. Amisty immediately started eating, shoving a spoonful of beans into her mouth.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," Ron spoke around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know. There was trouble in the kitchens earlier," Nick commented.

"Why? Wha' 'appended?" Harry asked, his voice just as muffled as Ron, only he was talking around a bite of steak.

"Peeves, of course. The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast -- well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council -- the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance -- but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down," Nick answered. The Bloody Baron was the only person -- er -- being at Hogwarts who could somewhat control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," Ron muttered, clearly thinking back to his soaking.

Amisty nodded bitterly, only reminded of the occurrence as a drop of cold water rolled down her back.

"So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual. Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits -- " Nick shrugged, his voice cut off as Hermione knocked over her goblet. Pumpkin juice stained the nearby tablecloth orange.

Uh oh.

"There are house-elves here? Here at Hogwarts?" She gasped, staring at Nick in absolute horror.

"Certainly. The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred," Nick replied, looking surprised.

Amisty couldn't blame him.

Hermione was known for being the one to know everything.

"I've never seen one!" Hermione protested, seeming as if she didn't want to believe what he was saying.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning... see to the fires and so on... I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?" Nick explained.

She stared at him, dumbfounded, "But they get paid? They get holidays, don't they? And -- and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nick laughed so hard his head fell off his neck, the thin sliver of skin the only thing keeping it on.

"Sick leave and pensions? House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!" He exclaimed, amused as he put his head back on his neck.

Hermione stared down at her food, placed her utensils on the table, and pushed everything away.

Amisty just looked at her, words on the tip of her tongue about wasting food.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," Ron accidentally sprayed Harry with Yorkshire pudding. "Oops -- sorry, 'Arry -- You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor. That's what made this dinner," Hermione declared furiously. "Slave labor."

The first course was soon replaced by desserts, and still, Hermione didn't even look at anything.

"Treacle tart, Hermione! Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!" Ron exclaimed, shoving the plates toward her.

Hermione just glared back, her gaze so frigid Amisty felt the nearby air grow cold.

She took it upon herself to slide all the food Hermione abandoned onto her plate. No use in wasting it.