Clang!
Rozzle was startled out of the intense game of 'Catch the Nargle' she was playing with several of the other house-elves by a loud crash just outside the door. She glanced around to see if anyone else had any idea what was going on outside; everyone seemed just as confused as she. Rushing back to the kitchen to find Head Chef Bibbon, she collided with another quick-moving body.
'Wotcher—Oh, Rozzle!' trilled Lorny's voice from somewhere overhead. 'Blimey, what d'you reckon that crash was? Poor ol' Bib can kiss that soufflé goodbye. D'you think some of the new kiddies are playing out there? I don't think I've heard that much commotion outside since—' she was abruptly cut off by Rozzle as they both climbed back to their feet.
'Since the Fire Boys. Yea, they sure knew how to have loud fun! Well c'mon then, let's go check it out!'
They raced down the cluttered corridor to the kitchen, where they found a massive pile of rubble near the oven. A thick layer of dust coated every surface and hung in the air, making it difficult to see and breathe.
'Bloody Hell, what's happened, then?' cried Lorny, only to be met by a cacophony of harsh coughing and laboured breathing. A few elves lay sprawled on the floor near the wreck, looking stunned and bleary eyed in the aftermath. Bibbon slouched against the oven door, his face covered in soot from the proximity of the blast and a forlorn look on his face.
'Bibb, what happened? Are you all right? Who did this?' demanded Rozzle.
'I've no idea what happened, do I? I was just making the perfect soufflé for supper when that damned blast ruined it. Gave us all a shock, it did. Too violent for the sweet kiddies out there, if you ask me. No self-respecting Hufflepuff would deliberately risk ruining a delicious hot meal. Ahh, my poor soufflé!' resigned to the fact that Bibbon was just as clueless as the rest, Rozzle walked over to talk to some elves that were closer to the blast. Mind full of endless possibilities of pranks gone wrong, she was overcome with nostalgia as she remembered two young boys with a penchant for trouble. It had been years since she last saw either of the Fire Boys, although she'd seen glimpses of red hair around the castle and had spent countless hours with Lorny observing their younger sister.
'Rozzle, come quick,' Lorny's agitated voice carried across the massive kitchen. Rozzle ran to where Lorny was leaning on the wall near the newly formed hole, noticing the string clutched delicately in her long fingers.
'Wha—'
'Shh, listen,' Lorny hissed as she flicked her wrist and repositioned the extendable ear she was levitating through the hole above their heads.
Rozzle was met with an onslaught of shouting, crashing, and sobbing, as if a battle were taking place. Confused and frightened, she turned back to Lorny to ask if her friend had any idea what was happening outside. She was met with wide shiny eyes and noticed a tremor running through the other elf. Great, I guess I'm on my own here.
Suddenly, a tall boy burst through the door, giving a fresh shock to all the elves in the vicinity. Rozzle instantly recognised him by the red hair and the awkwardness with which he held his lanky limbs: Ron, the younger brother.
'Oi, mates, you should, um,' he stumbled through his words, panting slightly from his apparent sprint to the kitchens. 'There's a battle happening, as you may have noticed. Or not. Right, well, everyone needs to evacuate because it's not really safe here. Or anywhere, for that matter. I guess what I'm saying is that you're all free and that you should really leave soon, possibly with shields.'
He then proceeded to rush about the kitchen and through the halls, shouting for all of the house-elves to hurry up and go. Many, if not all, of the elves started arming themselves with any sort of weapon they could find in the chaos. Ron wandered back through to the kitchen, flustered by the flurry of activity around him. As he waited, he noticed two elves that stuck together and kept staring at him, which was a bit unnerving, especially since one was holding a mixer with the beaters seeming to eject at random intervals. Neither elf seemed to pay any attention to the spinning blades flying about in front of them and they both flinched and shot their heads up towards the hole they were standing under. It was then that he noticed the extendable ear and it made him wonder just how much time the elves spent in the outside world or interacting with students. He pushed his way towards them to find out what was happening outside.
'What d'you hear out there?' he asked once he got close enough. The elves had been watching his approach and neither seemed particularly startled by the sudden question.
'It was mostly just thuds and crashes in the beginning,' muttered the taller of the two. 'But now there're screams, too. Why is this happening?'
'The castle is under attack. Voldemort and the Death Eaters have invaded the castle. My friends and I are actually in the process of weakening him, so hopefully there will be an end to this battle. Where'd you get the extendable ear, if you don't mind me asking?'
'Fred gave us one before they left school, among other things. It's absolutely brilliant!' explained the mixer-wielding elf. Ron paused, wondering why on earth his brothers would give anything to these two elves and how they could possibly know each other. Another cry from the hole reminded him it was a question for another time.
Several minutes and an astonishing number of broken platters later, there was a small army of elves standing in front of the door. Brandishing cleavers, rolling pins, pieces of ceramic, and determined glares, they marched out of the kitchen.
Ron looked a bit stunned that all these elves would join the battle instead of flee to safety, but he decided to follow the two elf girls into the fray—at least until he found his way back to Hermione and Harry.
