Spoiler: show
Harry moved through the hallways, keeping to the shadows, watching his targets. There always seemed to be shadows in Hogwarts, one of the hazards of lighting half the hallways with natural light and torches. Granted, it did make it easy to move around undetected.
His targets were heading down to the basements, in the direction of the Hufflepuff Common Room. Interesting. Nobody was supposed to know where it was. What else would they be looking for?
The targets came to a stop in front of a large painting of fruit. They glanced back and forth before tickling the singular pear. The painting swung open, and the duo stepped inside, the painting closed again.
Harry dropped out of the shadows and walked over to the painting. Strictly speaking, it didn’t look too much like a magical painting. Nothing was moving, though fruit didn’t tend to move on its own. But Harry suspected that if any other painting wandered through, they’d be able to pick up the fruit and eat it.
Though that raised the question. If another painting ate the fruit from the painting in front of him, would the fruit go away permanently, or would the painting eventually return to its original state?
Oh well, that was a question for another time, and probably one to be posed to a teacher. Professor Flitwick would know. Actually, were the paintings animated via some sort of Charm? Or was it a permanent Enchantment? Did they teach Enchanting at Hogwarts? Harry hadn’t found a list of the upper level classes, but he knew there were additional courses offered to the advanced students.
He was getting distracted again. Harry tickled the pear and the painting swung open.
It was a gigantic, high-ceilinged room, with five tables just like in the Great Hall, but covered in brass cookware and cooking utensils. A huge brick oven was at the back of the room, and Harry could feel the heat all the way out at the doorway.
“Fred! George! What are you doing here?”
The two redheads turned around guiltily. “We can explain – oh, it’s just you, Harry,” Fred said.
“We’re just getting a bite to eat. Too long to the next meal, you know.”
“And we’ve got to keep our energy up.”
“What with Wood running us ragged every practice.”
“Shh, don’t tell him that.”
“True, I suppose he does belong to the enemy team.”
“Not that he isn’t alright in other ways.”
“For an ickle firsty.”
“And everybody knows how Quidditch-mad Wood gets.”
“Too true, that.”
“Guys, I just wanted to know what you all were doing down here. You were the ones who started talking Quidditch practice.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“I don’t see what it matters though.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “So these are the kitchens? Just… who… is making the food?”
“The House Elves. Never seen one before?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Most Muggle-raised haven’t.”
“So, what’s a House Elf?”
“That’s a House Elf. Short little green thing, big ears, thought that was a bit obvious.”
“Most of the hob-knob families buy the services of at least one, sometimes more. And Hogwarts needs them to keep everything clean. Who do you think does your laundry?”
“And do you think your food cooks itself?”
“And only a fool would think Filch actually spends time away from skulking around the halls and menacing students to clean the castle.”
“I haven’t had any trouble with him. He never really seems to notice me.”
“Really? He’s a right arse he is. Never passes up the chance to give out detention.”
“Even checks the tapestries and dark corners with a mop handle.”
“So untrustworthy.”
“It’s tragic, Fred, it really is.”
“So House Elves are paid servants?”
“Not quite.”
“Bonded servants.”
“You buy them and board them.”
“But they aren’t paid daily wages.”
“So they’re slaves.” Harry’s face was beginning to darken.
Fred and George were quick to hold their hands up and shake their heads. “No, not slaves. Bonded servants.”
“I think there’s a ceremony when you bring them into the household.”
“And they love the work. Really enjoy themselves.”
“The elves here love us.”
“They call me Mr. Messes One.”
“And I’m Mr. Messes Two.”
“They never mix us up, either.”
“It’s so disappointing.”
“But they feed us whenever we want.”
“That makes up for it.”
This was getting dizzying. “I still don’t like the way it sounds, but I can do that research on my own. How’d you two even find this place? You don’t go around tickling all the paintings, do you?”
“Don’t you know, troublemakers always know the secret spots.”
“As for how we found it, we can’t give away all our secrets.”
“But what about you? How’d you find the kitchens?”
“Found them faster than we did, you cheeky firsty.”
“Oh, I just had these two troublemakers show me the way in. Guess they need to be better at covering their tracks.”
“You’re right, George, he is cheeky.”
“Somebody might take offense.”
“But not us, George.”
“Certainly not, we’ve got a great sense of humor.”
Harry raised a finger. “Speaking of you two not taking offense at things, I wanted to talk to you. About Draco Malfoy.”
“Ah, our favorite test subject.”
“Goes redder than Ron half the time, he does.”
“About that, actually. I’d like you to lay off him, at least for a while.”
“Why would we do that?”
“He impinged our honor.”
“We have honor?”
“We must have, he impinged it.”
“Or do you have an idea for him?”
“Can we help? Mentoring a budding prankster sounds like it might be fun.”
“No, I don’t have anything planned. But I’ve just noticed that you guys are going after him pretty hard. I don’t have any problem with pranks normally, but you’re two Third Years spending half your time going after a First Year. It’s making you look like bullies.”
“Bullies! We’re no such thing!”
“The Weasley Twins are the Premier Pranksters of Hogwarts!”
“Supreme Scoundrels!”
“Jovial Jesters!”
“Which is why you want to lay off Malfoy. I mean, going after a First Year like that, it’s an easy target. If you’re really the best pranksters in school, you might want to pick a harder target. People might think you’re going soft.”
“Blasphemy!”
“Heresy!”
“But young Harry may have a point. We’ll have to do something about this.”
“What about that thing we thought up last Tuesday?”
“Good idea. I’ll get the yak’s milk and tapioca pudding. You get two spools of rope, an octopus, some Disappearing Ink, and a Self-Correcting Quill, and meet me on the roof of the Astronomy Tower.”
“Oh, this will be too fun. And don’t worry Harry, we’ll make sure you don’t miss a second, since you alerted us to the situation.”
Harry was struck with a strong sense of warning. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I might be busy,” he tried to say, but Fred and George weren’t listening. As they walked out of the kitchen, picking up a picnic basket from a House Elf on their way out, Harry got the distinct impression that he had unleashed a nightmare.
His targets were heading down to the basements, in the direction of the Hufflepuff Common Room. Interesting. Nobody was supposed to know where it was. What else would they be looking for?
The targets came to a stop in front of a large painting of fruit. They glanced back and forth before tickling the singular pear. The painting swung open, and the duo stepped inside, the painting closed again.
Harry dropped out of the shadows and walked over to the painting. Strictly speaking, it didn’t look too much like a magical painting. Nothing was moving, though fruit didn’t tend to move on its own. But Harry suspected that if any other painting wandered through, they’d be able to pick up the fruit and eat it.
Though that raised the question. If another painting ate the fruit from the painting in front of him, would the fruit go away permanently, or would the painting eventually return to its original state?
Oh well, that was a question for another time, and probably one to be posed to a teacher. Professor Flitwick would know. Actually, were the paintings animated via some sort of Charm? Or was it a permanent Enchantment? Did they teach Enchanting at Hogwarts? Harry hadn’t found a list of the upper level classes, but he knew there were additional courses offered to the advanced students.
He was getting distracted again. Harry tickled the pear and the painting swung open.
It was a gigantic, high-ceilinged room, with five tables just like in the Great Hall, but covered in brass cookware and cooking utensils. A huge brick oven was at the back of the room, and Harry could feel the heat all the way out at the doorway.
“Fred! George! What are you doing here?”
The two redheads turned around guiltily. “We can explain – oh, it’s just you, Harry,” Fred said.
“We’re just getting a bite to eat. Too long to the next meal, you know.”
“And we’ve got to keep our energy up.”
“What with Wood running us ragged every practice.”
“Shh, don’t tell him that.”
“True, I suppose he does belong to the enemy team.”
“Not that he isn’t alright in other ways.”
“For an ickle firsty.”
“And everybody knows how Quidditch-mad Wood gets.”
“Too true, that.”
“Guys, I just wanted to know what you all were doing down here. You were the ones who started talking Quidditch practice.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“I don’t see what it matters though.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “So these are the kitchens? Just… who… is making the food?”
“The House Elves. Never seen one before?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Most Muggle-raised haven’t.”
“So, what’s a House Elf?”
“That’s a House Elf. Short little green thing, big ears, thought that was a bit obvious.”
“Most of the hob-knob families buy the services of at least one, sometimes more. And Hogwarts needs them to keep everything clean. Who do you think does your laundry?”
“And do you think your food cooks itself?”
“And only a fool would think Filch actually spends time away from skulking around the halls and menacing students to clean the castle.”
“I haven’t had any trouble with him. He never really seems to notice me.”
“Really? He’s a right arse he is. Never passes up the chance to give out detention.”
“Even checks the tapestries and dark corners with a mop handle.”
“So untrustworthy.”
“It’s tragic, Fred, it really is.”
“So House Elves are paid servants?”
“Not quite.”
“Bonded servants.”
“You buy them and board them.”
“But they aren’t paid daily wages.”
“So they’re slaves.” Harry’s face was beginning to darken.
Fred and George were quick to hold their hands up and shake their heads. “No, not slaves. Bonded servants.”
“I think there’s a ceremony when you bring them into the household.”
“And they love the work. Really enjoy themselves.”
“The elves here love us.”
“They call me Mr. Messes One.”
“And I’m Mr. Messes Two.”
“They never mix us up, either.”
“It’s so disappointing.”
“But they feed us whenever we want.”
“That makes up for it.”
This was getting dizzying. “I still don’t like the way it sounds, but I can do that research on my own. How’d you two even find this place? You don’t go around tickling all the paintings, do you?”
“Don’t you know, troublemakers always know the secret spots.”
“As for how we found it, we can’t give away all our secrets.”
“But what about you? How’d you find the kitchens?”
“Found them faster than we did, you cheeky firsty.”
“Oh, I just had these two troublemakers show me the way in. Guess they need to be better at covering their tracks.”
“You’re right, George, he is cheeky.”
“Somebody might take offense.”
“But not us, George.”
“Certainly not, we’ve got a great sense of humor.”
Harry raised a finger. “Speaking of you two not taking offense at things, I wanted to talk to you. About Draco Malfoy.”
“Ah, our favorite test subject.”
“Goes redder than Ron half the time, he does.”
“About that, actually. I’d like you to lay off him, at least for a while.”
“Why would we do that?”
“He impinged our honor.”
“We have honor?”
“We must have, he impinged it.”
“Or do you have an idea for him?”
“Can we help? Mentoring a budding prankster sounds like it might be fun.”
“No, I don’t have anything planned. But I’ve just noticed that you guys are going after him pretty hard. I don’t have any problem with pranks normally, but you’re two Third Years spending half your time going after a First Year. It’s making you look like bullies.”
“Bullies! We’re no such thing!”
“The Weasley Twins are the Premier Pranksters of Hogwarts!”
“Supreme Scoundrels!”
“Jovial Jesters!”
“Which is why you want to lay off Malfoy. I mean, going after a First Year like that, it’s an easy target. If you’re really the best pranksters in school, you might want to pick a harder target. People might think you’re going soft.”
“Blasphemy!”
“Heresy!”
“But young Harry may have a point. We’ll have to do something about this.”
“What about that thing we thought up last Tuesday?”
“Good idea. I’ll get the yak’s milk and tapioca pudding. You get two spools of rope, an octopus, some Disappearing Ink, and a Self-Correcting Quill, and meet me on the roof of the Astronomy Tower.”
“Oh, this will be too fun. And don’t worry Harry, we’ll make sure you don’t miss a second, since you alerted us to the situation.”
Harry was struck with a strong sense of warning. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I might be busy,” he tried to say, but Fred and George weren’t listening. As they walked out of the kitchen, picking up a picnic basket from a House Elf on their way out, Harry got the distinct impression that he had unleashed a nightmare.
MrRigger
I laughed harder than I have in a long time at the 'Hail Britannia' bit.