Catch The Snitch

[[Continued from: Sleep? What's that?]] - Reserved for Nigel Dextera


After Nigel's departure from the Great Hall, Julian had barely skimmed the headline of the opening article in the Daily Prophet, when another staff member arrived and took Nigel's place at the table. More teachers arrived throughout the morning, and eventually, the table was alive with discussion. Julian was happy for the company, but as the group continued to chat well past the end of breakfast, he began to look for the opportunity to excuse himself. He had fully intended to be early in meeting Nigel downstairs, and as he still needed to speak with one of the Aurors about his use of profanity (not that Julian minded personally – he was known to drop an expletive or two in close company, but this was a school, after all) he felt like he was cutting it quite close.

Resisting the urge to check his pocket watch again (he could only do it so many times without it being rude), Julian hoped that Nigel had also been stalled in whatever he was doing in Hogsmeade this morning. At last, he found his polite exit during a discussion about an article in the Daily Prophet. "Ah, I haven't had a chance to read that one yet, but please excuse me - I'm expected somewhere at nine." After giving a light warning to Dorian to watch his language around the children tomorrow, Julian swiftly ducked out of the Great Hall before he could be delayed any further.

It was 8:55 when Julian had descended the last of the stone steps and into the kitchen corridor, slipping his watch back into the pocket of his robe after confirming his arrival time. He was pleased to see that Nigel had not been waiting for him, and took the moment to collect himself after his half-jog downstairs. Julian rubbed his hand across his jaw, feeling stubble growth. He would need to shave again today, especially if he wanted to look presentable during his speech tonight. Julian wasn't nervous though; he was a smooth public speaker – it was one-on-one conversations that he found were more of a challenge. He was beginning to feel at ease with Nigel, though, and felt somewhat lighter at that recognition.

Julian assumed that Nigel – being a fellow Hufflepuff – knew where the kitchens are located, but he wasn't sure if Nigel had ever been inside. While most Hufflepuffs knew to tickle the pear in the portrait that was just down the hall from the common room, meals were plentiful at Hogwarts and there weren't many reasons to enter the kitchens at all. Deciding it would be better to wait outside for Nigel, Julian remained at the bottom of the steps. He wondered idly if Nigel was flying into Hogsmeade - and if so - if he would be using his latest invention. Chuckling at the memory, Julian also recalled Nigel mentioning a surprise and pondered what that might be.

At a minute to nine, Nigel finally appeared at the kitchen corridor – quite literally. One moment there was a faint shimmer in the air at the staircase landing, and in the next the young professor materialised from out of thin air. Since he left the Great Hall earlier in the morning, he had put on a beige overshirt and acquired a heavy black duffel that he was just setting down on the ground. A faint smell of smoke and Firewhisky clung to his clothes and bag, and anyone who frequented the Three Broomsticks Inn might find the smell oddly familiar. Certainly he had not Apparated here from Hogsmeade – that could be safely ruled out due to the Anti-Apparition Charms protecting the castle grounds. Besides, the manner in which he appeared seemed to resemble an invisibility spell wearing off, which was a lot more likely, given the complicated broom compass that Julian seen earlier that morning was now clipped onto the duffel’s handles.

“Good morning once again, Julian,” Nigel greeted, very much aware of how strange his entrance must have looked. “In case you’re wondering what’s going on, a bit of context would be helpful. My rather cheeky Curse-Breaker friend had this bag bewitched with an Anti-Disapparating Jinx, a Lead-weight Charm and various magical wards that preventing me from dispelling those charms,” he continued, indicating the duffel at his feet. “She’s generous with her gifts to us, but we’ve got to be smart enough to solve the little puzzle she loves to set for us.” The puzzle today wasn’t too hard to solve, although Nigel felt that he had cheated because he was lucky to have the broom compass with him.

“I didn’t have a broomstick with me to because I Apparated to Hogsmeade, so I had to improvise a little.” Those words were bound to raise more questions than they answered. But instead of a wordy explanation, Nigel figured that a quick demonstration would be a lot more concise. “I just discovered an unintended side effect of my broom compass.” With that, he put his hand up over the duffel and issued a single command: “Up!” Immediately the bag responded and lifted itself off the ground, its carrying handles settling into his open palm like a pair of enchanted reins. And as he closed his fingers around the straps, the stealth charms on the broom compass kicked in and removed him from sight, bag and all.

Under the veil of invisibility, he was reminded about how grateful he had been for the stealth charms when he was in Hogsmeade. Thank goodness nobody had witnessed the manner in which he had returned to Hogwarts! It would have been a most bizarre sight to behold, to say the very least, and it would be very embarrassing if he were to land on the front page of a newspaper or something. Flicking a switch on the compass, he disabled the stealth charms and faded back into view. “I really should keep the compass securely, don’t I?” he concluded, seeing how possibilities for device’s misuse had just increased rather dramatically.

Thus was the mystery of the invisible professor and his bag unraveled, and they could move on from this little digression to what they had met up to accomplish: thanking the house-elves for their hard work. But first, they would have to find the hidden entrance. Fortunately, most Hufflepuffs – including present company, Nigel assumed – were familiar with secret of the painting of a fruit bowl: if one were to tickle the pear, it would laugh and transform into a door handle, allowing passage into the kitchens.

“It’s been a while since I went into the kitchens. As a student I used to learn how to cook from the house-elves,” Nigel revealed. “But these days I’m just here to deliver some unusual food and drinks from all over the world that my friend would send to us.” Earlier this year before Easter, it had been a batch of chocolate made from the rare Criollo variety of cocoa beans, which was perfect for making chocolate eggs. This time round, it was a cask of Lithuanian mead, which was currently inside the magically enlarged duffel. “What about you, Julian?” he asked, curious as to whether his fellow Hufflepuff alumnus also frequented the kitchens as both a student and member of the staff.

When Nigel appeared out of thin air, Julian fumbled in surprise with the watch he had just been checking. It wasn't too often that he saw a person materialize out of thin air in a Hogwarts corridor -- not with the anti-Apparition charm. Of course, there were ways to make oneself invisible. Knowing of Nigel's background as an Unspeakable, Julian wasn't surprised that Nigel seemed to own an Invisibility cloak, but he was puzzled as to why he would choose to wear it now. Feeling slightly unnerved, Julian sheepishly returned his watch to his pocket and looked down to their feet at a duffel that Nigel had been indicating.

Intrigued as to how the duffel could be the answer to Nigel's bizarre entrance, Julian observed it closely. He recognized the golden disc that was attached to the duffel's handles as the broom compass that Nigel had shown him earlier that morning. Although Julian did not immediately understand why Nigel would have attached it to the bag, (he assumed explanations were forthcoming) it seemed to at least have solved the mystery of the invisible professor. Relieved that Nigel had not actually intended to sneak up on him, Julian laughed in earnest, the discomfort in his cheeks serving as a reminder of how long it had been since he had truly smiled.

Julian watched in amusement as Nigel demonstrated the compass's effect on the duffel. He laughed again as Nigel disappeared from sight and reappeared moments later. "You're not saying you flew here on that bag?" Julian asked incredulously, realizing the implications of the compass. If the duffel responded to the Up! Summoning spell as if it had been a broomstick, then what else was it capable of? He could only imagine what this might look like ... and the fact that Nigel had kept the invisibility charm engaged, made Julian believe it must have been a crazy sight to behold. "How do you fly it?" he asked, grinning at the images that came to mind; he was clearly enjoying this conversation.

Julian couldn't help but picture Nigel looking like a beloved character from his childhood. "I have to admit, I'm picturing the bag above your head like Mary Poppins and her umbrella." He paused as it occurred to him that Nigel might not understand the reference. Not many wizards would have read the book or watched the film (or understand what a film even was) unless they had a Muggle upbringing or Muggle relatives, and Julian did not know much about Nigel's family background. "My parents are Muggles," he explained, with just a trace of hesitation in his voice. Although proud to be Muggle-born, his childhood, and especially his family, were not the easiest of subjects for him.

Under most circumstances Nigel would have been too shy to go into greater detail about how he had made his way back here from Hogsmeade. The privacy offered by the kitchen corridor, however, was more than sufficient to convince him to reveal what had transpired. When Julian asked if he had flown on the bag, Nigel had to think if what he had done could be considered as ‘flying on a bag’. “Well…” his voice trailed off for a moment, before he added with a nod, “I suppose you could put it that way.” For all intents and purposes he did use the bag as an airborne mode of transport, regardless of how improper his method had been.

“In theory, all you need to do to fly on the bag is to hold on to the handles, and pretend that the bag is a broom. But that's easier said than done, given how strange it is to sit on top of a bag.” He had said nothing about needing to sit on the bag, and there was a reason behind that easily missed omission: there was simply no requirement to do so. Similarly, one did not need to sit on a broom to fly it, and indeed it was possible to stay aloft even when one stood atop or dangled from the broomstick, as many Quidditch players had demonstrated.

At Julian’s mention of Mary Poppins, Nigel opened his mouth to say something, but found himself at a loss for words because he was unable to recall where he had heard that name before. “Wait, I know this one... but where did I come across the name before?” Pacing around, he rapped his fist on his head, as though that would knock the answer out from some dusty, forgotten corner of his memory. It didn’t work, of course, and it was only when Julian explained (somewhat hesitantly, for some reason) that his parents were Muggles did it finally click into place.

“Mary Poppins, how could I have forgotten that!” Nigel exclaimed as he recalled the day he became acquainted with the protagonist of one of the most famous Muggle films in history. “I watched the film on the tellybox at my maternal grandmother’s place – my mother’s a Muggle-born,” he revealed. “My father, despite his fascination with Muggles and their technology, was never into what he called ‘inane Muggle entertainment’ unfortunately. My mother never let him off the hook for that.” To be fair, the older Dextera’s idea of entertainment was to tinker with his clockwork contraptions, and he simply wasn't interested in things like Quidditch or music. Nonetheless, Nigel – despite being much more acquainted with Muggle culture than the average wizard – still couldn’t claim to know much about Muggles. “Sometimes it’s quite unbelievable how wide the gulf is between wizarding folk and Muggles,” he mused with a resigned shrug. “But I digress.”

“It’s funny and very appropriate that you mentioned Mary Poppins,” Nigel said, getting back on track to the original topic of discussion. Since there was nobody else within sight, he felt comfortable enough to attempt a demonstration. Still, a caveat was in order. “For your eyes only,” he stressed, before he swung one leg over the levitating duffel. The duffel was rather large, though the position of the handles meant that he had to sit closer towards one end of the bag. Gently the bag floated higher into the air, until his feet could no longer touch the ground, and then even higher until his head almost reached the ceiling.

A problem immediately became apparent: Nigel’s weight was making the bag tip dangerously towards one end, and he had to lean forwards as much as he could to maintain his balance. “If this already looks like a recipe for disaster, do note that I’m merely hovering in place indoors, rather than moving at high speed while being buffeted by strong winds. In that situation, however…” With that, he slowly backed up a little, giving himself ample space in preparation for the most significant part of the demonstration. Grabbing the handle of the bag as firmly as he could in a white-knuckle grip, he retrieved his wand with his other hand and conjured up a gust of wind. Trapped within the confines of the corridor, the wind roared angrily and blasted past Nigel, violently tipping him off his perch. With the stiff breeze blowing and the professor dangling from the bag like a pendulum, the result was almost like a scene right out of the Mary Poppins film, except Nigel was ‘flying’ with far less grace and poise than the fictional nanny. He clung on for a few more seconds for Julian to properly appreciate the ridiculous sight, his face reddening further with each passing second, before he decided that he had embarrassed himself enough. Swinging his own body to counteract his oscillations, he then lowered himself back onto terra firma, and concluded the impromptu showcase with a princely bow to salvage whatever shred of dignity he still had left. “That’s pretty much what happened,” he said, his face still flushed from the demonstration. “Thank goodness for all the stealth charms – I have no wish to find myself on the front page of tomorrow’s papers.”

Although Julian had been greatly amused by Nigel's confessed mode of transportation, he hadn't expected a demonstration. In fact, he felt a twinge of guilt for pressing the subject, for the professor seemed somewhat reluctant to go into greater detail. When Nigel had offered to show him, Julian had raised his hands, palms out in polite protest. Nigel had already proceeded with the demonstration, however, and as the professor swung his leg over the levitating bag, Julian could not be sure that he had seen his gesture and reconsidered his objection. He hadn't been able to get the images out of his mind since Nigel had explained what transpired, and, considering the stealth charms, this would likely be his only opportunity to witness it for himself. His curiosity getting the better of him, Julian found himself lowering his hands and agreeing to Nigel's terms, stammered "Of course," and then - much more assuredly - promised: "You have my word."

Out of respect for Nigel, Julian willed himself not to laugh at the ridiculous sight of Nigel hovering atop the bag in the middle of the kitchen corridor. He didn't have to suppress his laughter for long, though. As Nigel conjured up a gust of wind that buffeted him around, Julian found the sight to be impressive rather than humorous. He was truly awestruck, not only by the compass' abilities but how well Nigel managed its unintended side effect. "Well," he said as Nigel climbed off of the bag. "I won't be able to forget that any time soon. I'm very impressed. I don't think I could have managed that wind, not even on a broomstick. Thank you for sharing that with me." He was not exaggerating for Nigel's benefit; it was true that he was not a talented flier. It turned out that flying did not come as naturally to Julian as academics did, and he did not continue lessons past his first year. To this day, Julian does not fly recreationally and much preferred other modes of transportation.

Julian offered Nigel a warm smile before clapping his hands together and exclaiming, "Well then! Let's find this door!" As he strolled down the brightly lit corridor, Julian was careful to keep his body language welcoming, but his back turned to Nigel; he had not missed the flush on Nigel's face and had a feeling that the professor needed a private moment to catch his breath and regain his composure. They passed many different food-themed paintings, but only one was of interest: the giant bowl of fruit. Knowing that Nigel needed no instructions as to how to open the door, Julian went ahead and tickled the pear as soon as he was close enough to reach it. The pear giggled and transformed into a doorknob; Julian grasped it to swing the portrait outwardly, revealing a hole in the wall large enough for two adults to walk through without ducking.

The kitchens hadn't changed much over the years. It was the same gigantic, high-ceiling room that Julian remembered from his childhood. The stone walls were covered in pots and pans, countertops and stoves. The tables in the kitchens were identical to the ones above in the Great Hall; currently, there was only one table present as they had seen earlier at breakfast. There was one, glaringly obvious difference: the lack of house-elves. It wasn't that long ago when one could easily find at least twenty house-elves by simply walking through the kitchen door. Now, as Julian stepped into the kitchens and looked around, not one was to be seen.

Although many of the house-elves of Hogwarts survived (and participated) in the Battle of Hogwarts, not many returned to the school. Julian had since been able to employ a small number of house-elves, and though they were proportionate to the staff and students, they were not at their usual capacity and no longer had a full-time kitchen staff. "Ah, they must be preparing the dormitories for tonight, but I'm sure they will be back shortly." He looked around the room, feeling nostalgic -- especially when he recognized a very familiar storage area. He hesitated on his next words; it was in his nature to be private. Nigel has just shared something in confidence with him, however, and Julian saw an opportunity to return the gesture.

Clearing his throat quietly, Julian began: "I used to study right there." He pointed to the corner of the room, specifically a spot on the floor beneath a window. It was out of the way, where one could sit and still have a good view of the house-elves at work without being a hindrance. In fact, Julian thought his little study space looked rather cozy, even taking into account the bagged potatoes that were piled high in stacks on either side. "I used to lose track of time and study through meals, and I'd come in here looking for a snack. The house-elves were always so kind and welcoming. I liked it here more than in the library, or common rooms." He paused, considering whether or not to elaborate on this bizarre statement. "I was teased a lot for being a Teacher's Pet – I deserved it, I was a know-it-all back then," he laughed as to indicate no lingering resentment. "I studied for my O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in this very spot."

Nigel would have loved to see Julian’s reaction to the Mary Poppins-esque way in which he dangled from the duffel, but alas he was swinging and spinning around too much to get a proper glimpse. He figured Julian might find the scene funny, but he hadn’t thought that Julian would feel impressed by what he had done. “I must say, I was clinging on for dear life more than anything else,” he said. “It’s just pure survival instincts, rather than skill or anything else.” And when Julian thanked him for sharing the details of his eventful morning, he smiled and shook his head. “Think nothing of it. Stories like this are meant to be shared.” Something so odd and curious didn’t happen too often, and he didn’t mind letting certain people around him know as long as it brightened their day.

With that huge digression out of the way, the duo moved on to their original agenda. Leading the way forward, Julian walked down the corridor to the hidden entrance of the kitchens. Nigel followed behind, careful not to let the bulky duffel bump into anything around him. Thanks to the broom compass still clipped onto its handle, the heavy duffel was effectively weightless, and Nigel could pull it along without any effort. While the headteacher’s eyes scanned the numerous paintings, the younger professor took the opportunity to quickly tidy himself up, running a hand through his hair to brush aside the stray locks that had fallen over his eyes. The demonstration earlier had also left him feeling a little warm, so he shrugged off his overshirt, before folding and draping it over his arm. He was just done when he spotted the painting they were looking for: a painting of a fruit bowl with a pear.

Julian reached out to tickle the pear, which giggled before transforming into a green doorknob. Turning the doorknob, the headteacher swung the secret door outwards and stepped into the opening. Nigel followed, and found himself in a large, familiar room with rows of stoves, large expanses of countertops, and a mind-boggling amount of kitchenware. It looked almost the same as it had been on the day he first stepped into it as a student, but with a couple of differences. Right off the bat, the layout of the kitchens today was atypical: a single table was positioned right in the middle, perfectly mirroring the placement of the staff’s dining table in the Great Hall.

And then there was the most obvious difference.

“I haven’t seen the kitchens this empty before.” The few last times Nigel had visited the kitchens, all of the house-elves had been present. As Julian said that the other house-elves were preparing the dormitories, and left only a handful behind to tend to the kitchens, he nodded thoughtfully. He had known for a while that many house-elves didn’t come back to the school after the Second Wizarding War ended, but the stark reality of just how few of them did had only just hit him. Hmm... Perhaps there was something he could do to help make the house-elves’ jobs easier.

Julian directed Nigel’s attention to a corner of the kitchens. “I used to study right there.” It was an empty spot just beneath the window, with sacks of potatoes piled up to either side. Nigel remembered that spot clearly: he had seen it before years ago, and always assumed that it was either deliberately left empty, or reserved for some other purpose he was unaware of. All in all, it was a nice and cozy place, albeit a highly unusual one for studying. “I never knew that anyone studied here in the kitchens, but it does look like a great spot to hit the books.” He had once studied in a corner of his father’s workshop and found it remarkably easy to focus despite the chatter of the customers and the sound of his father working on the timepieces, and he could see the similarities between the two locations. “A little oasis of calm amidst the flurry of activity around you. Such places are oddly conducive to studying, for reasons that elude me.” And when Julian mentioned that he preferred the kitchens to the library or the common room, Nigel didn’t quite understand why initially, until Julian explained casually that he used to be a Teacher’s Pet and a know-it-all. Immediately everything clicked into place, and Nigel could not help but feel for Julian, even though the headteacher seemed to have put the whole matter behind him already. “Unfortunately teenagers aren’t paragons of maturity after all. But we all turned out pretty well, all things considered.”

The more Nigel looked at the cozy little spot, the more he wondered what it was like to be preparing for major exams like the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s here in the kitchens. The pin-drop silence of the library could get rather suffocating sometimes, and the Hufflepuff Common Room was usually too lively and full of distractions. “I’m not sure if this makes any sense, but I suppose studying here is like being alone without being lonely?”

One of the house-elves who had just finished her chores looked up and noticed the two men in the kitchens. “Good morning, Headteacher Rossi and Professor Dextera. How can Bibmy be of service?” she greeted, as her eyes drifted to the duffel that Nigel was carrying. Based on the bag alone, she could guess why Nigel was here. It wasn’t the first time he had came to the kitchens bearing a gift from his Curse-Breaker friend for everyone at Hogwarts, including the house-elves.

“First things first,” Nigel began, “thank you so much for the scrumptious breakfast today. And the tea – it’s absolutely divine. Pray convey our gratitude to the others too.” Next, he unzipped the duffel, revealing a glimpse of the objects within its magically expanded depths: a wooden barrel of mead and a generous jar of honey. “According to Faye,” he added, referring to his Curse-Breaker friend, “the mead is a little strong for house-elves, so the honey is exclusively for all of you.”

“For all of us?” Bibmy asked, her large eyes widening in surprise. “Yes, for all of you house-elves only,” Nigel confirmed, to which the house-elf began jumping for joy. “Bibmy gives thanks to Professor Dextera and Mistress Faye!”

“No need to thank me, Bibmy,” Nigel replied. “I’m only the deliveryman.” And a happy and willing deliveryman he was indeed. All these years, the house-elves had worked tirelessly behind the scenes without any complaints, taking care of all the chores that needed to be done and ensuring that all the staff and students were well-fed and taken care of. Helping to deliver these gifts from Faye was the least he could do for them in return.

Studying in the kitchens had been exactly as Nigel had described: alone without being lonely. When studying, Julian much preferred the company of the house-elves to that of his housemates. He found the sound of elves working harmoniously in the kitchens to be much less distracting than the conversations and laughter in the common room. He didn't mind the silence of the library quite so much; even the kitchens got very quiet after hours. Julian's aversion to the library was mainly due to the librarian at the time. She was excessively strict with her rules and unforgiving to those who broke them. Ever since accidentally spilling a bottle of ink on the school copy of 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi', Julian found it difficult to concentrate with her breathing down his neck. "I couldn't have said it better myself," he replied, nodding in agreement to Nigel's comment. He had been about to elaborate when a small voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Ah, the house-elves have arrived," he thought. Upon realizing there had only been one, a look of concern passed fleetingly across the Headteacher's face before it was replaced with a welcoming smile. "Good morning, Bibmy." Julian never would have predicted that the house-elf issue would have endured as long as it had. He wasn't surprised that very few elves returned that first year, but had thought - perhaps naively - that as years passed without incident that the population at Hogwarts would resolve itself. While that was certainly true for the staff and students whose numbers increased with each school year, the elf population had stagnated despite Julian's best efforts.

Julian watched as Nigel unzipped the duffel, realizing that – in the excitement of the compass' special abilities – that it had not once occurred to him to wonder what was inside of the bag it was attached to. He peered down into the bag and listened to the conversation between Nigel and the elf, impressed with the ease with which they interacted. He had been particularly surprised when Bibmy accepted the jar of honey with gratitude rather than offence. It was not in the nature of the house-elf to accept anything other than kindness, and Julian quite admired Nigel for his accomplishment. He was beginning to wonder if perhaps there would be a better-suited member of staff to liaison with the house-elves, but when Bibmy squeaked "Can Bibmy please get sirs a beverage or something to eat?", Julian decided to table that idea for future consideration.

"Well, I was really just coming to see if you needed anything for tonight's Feast," he began, but knowing that it would make her happier if she could be of service, he added, "but a coffee sounds lovely, please, Bibmy."

"Oh… yes!" Bibmy squeaked. She hesitated shyly before continuing. "We have a new type of beans for you, sir. If Bibmy may be excused to fetch them?"

"How wonderful, thank you," Julian replied pleasantly, beaming at her.

Bibmy waited for Nigel's response before she departed the kitchens with a bow, and Julian tried not to let it bother him that Bibmy seemed entirely more at ease with the professor than she had been with him. When the elf disappeared from sight, the emptiness of the kitchens was overwhelming and Julian couldn't help but voice his concerns. "I do worry about the house-elves. I want them to be happy here, but I know they're overworked… and this year brought even more staff and students, I don't know how much longer we can manage with these numbers."

The momentary look of concern on the Headteacher’s face as Bibmy came up to greet the two Hogwarts staff members did not go unnoticed by the young professor. Having heard about the lack of house-elves at the school following the conclusion of the Second Wizarding War, and subsequently seeing what the situation was like for himself, Nigel too had fretted over the deep-rooted issue. It wasn’t something he – or anyone, for that matter – could easily fix, and the most he could do for now was to make sure the house-elves who stayed behind were well taken care of.

Although the house-elves were quite used to these gifts from Faye, they always made it a point to offer something back in return, even if it was as simple as getting a drink or a snack. “I’ll have a coffee as well, thank you,” Nigel said, mirroring Julian’s request to make things easier for Bibmy. While he was primarily a tea drinker, he had come to better appreciate coffee from his days at the Ministry, thanks to the high-stress work environment that the Ministry staff were in.

After Bibmy bowed and excused herself, Julian brought up the topic that was foremost on both of their minds: the lack of house-elves and their ever-growing workload. Nigel listened intently as his brows knitted with concern. Nodding in agreement to what the Headteacher was saying, he added in his two cents’ worth as well. “Unfortunately the root of the issue, that being the house-elves’ aversion towards working here at Hogwarts, isn’t something that will change anytime soon.” As a direct consequence of the Battle of Hogwarts, many house-elves had chosen to leave the school after the Second Wizarding War, and few were willing to seek employment (and re-employment, for that matter) there in the subsequent years. Nigel had overheard the topic being discussed at the Ministry of Magic, and it was not for lack of trying on anyone’s part that the problem persisted. “Many of us have done what we could over the years to change the minds of the house-elves who used to work here, and reassure them that the school is safe. We’ll have to keep going, of course, even if our efforts haven’t borne any fruit yet.”

The aforementioned efforts had been confounded by yet another issue the school was facing: the stationing of Aurors at Hogwarts. “Some of the house-elves see the Auror presence as irrefutable evidence that the school still isn’t safe.” As ironic as it sounded, the tightened security at Hogwarts did imply that the Ministry was not satisfied with the safety of the students and staff to begin with, and Nigel found it hard to argue against that point of view.

Despite this impasse, there were still ways to alleviate the lack of house-elves at the school. “In the meantime, we might be able to help reduce the house-elves’ workload in a couple of ways. For starters, we could enlist the students’ help with some of the chores, such as tidying up the common rooms and dormitories.” There was an almost mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he added, “We’ve all been young once, and we know perfectly well what goes on behind closed doors. Hopefully this would help to instil a sense of responsibility in the students, especially if they would now need to clean up their own mess.”

Julian nodded as he listened to Nigel's thoughts on the house-elf matter, feeling grateful to be finally discussing it with someone. Julian had never brought the subject up before; not only did he dislike burdening anyone with his problems, many of his colleagues weren't even aware of the issue in the first place. In the last six years, the house-elves had worked with such efficiency that it would take a visit to the kitchen to notice something was amiss. Very few members of staff went into the kitchens, however, and to the students who had not experienced Hogwarts pre-closure, this was simply the norm.

The portrait door swung open, and Bibmy returned, using elf magic to levitate a bag of coffee beans. While listening to Nigel's comments, Julian watched out of the corner of his eye as she prepared the coffee, and then loaded up a tray with various accoutrements while she waited for the brew to finish. Julian noted that it did look odd indeed to see a single house-elf at work, and then returned his focus back to his conversation with Nigel, hoping that together, they could find a solution.

It had occurred to Julian that Auror presence at Hogwarts might send the opposite message about the castle's safety, but he had assumed that conclusion was merely the result of his constant rumination. Julian hadn't been aware that his colleagues felt the same; after all, most of the complaints he had received were that the Aurors were redundant, an insult to their abilities to keep the school safe, and a few other phrases that Julian could never repeat if he wanted to stay diplomatic.

"I was afraid of that," he admitted quietly, while Bibmy levitated the tray to the top of the only table; the one that mirrored the staff table in the Great Hall above. After thanking the elf, Julian helped himself to one of the many biscuits (that neither he nor Nigel asked for) and began to prepare his coffee to his liking, gesturing for Nigel to do the same. The fact of the matter is Julian had little to no say over the Aurors, whose presence was a non-negotiable term of Hogwarts' reopening. While the Ministry of Magic controlled many aspects of how the school was run, Julian agreed with Nigel that there were things they could do to alleviate the situation.

"An excellent suggestion," Julian beamed, immediately thinking of how he could address the solution in tonight's speech; the sooner he told the students that they needed to pitch in, the better. Julian sipped his coffee, going over his topic points for tonight and finding the perfect opening to make his request. "I think I'll take that advice, thank you," he said a few minutes later after he had mentally re-written his speech to include the new announcement.

The portrait door swung open again, revealing a parade of house-elves returning back from the dormitories. "Oh, hello sirs!" the one in the front of the group squeaked in greeting. "Don't mind us! We is setting up the House tables now!"

"Good morning, Gabdey," Julian replied with a smile, setting down his now-empty coffee cup onto the tray and stepping away, allowing for the staff table to be moved into its proper position. "Please let us be of assistance."

"We is not needing help, sir, but..." Gabdey hesitated nervously, looking to his fellow elves for support. "... Hinkey is asleep in the linen cupboard, sir."

"Oh?" Julian coaxed; judging by all of the worried faces, there had to be more to the story.

"She has been getting into the Butterbeer, sir."

"Oh dear," Julian responded, carefully displaying the appropriate amount of solemnity warranted for the situation. "Thank for you letting me know."

The house-elves left to join Bibmy, murmuring amongst themselves, ears drooped in concern for their inebriated friend. "Professor Dextera," Julian began, respectfully addressing Nigel with his formal name in public, "if you'll please excuse me, I will check on Hinkey and see you tonight at the Feast." Julian waved goodbye to Bibmy, and then departed from the kitchens.