As it turns out Hermione had planned and planned well.
Obviously that evening was spent targeting key figures to help add to the likelihood of their survival. Unfortunately for them when reduced to the amount of people who would a) believe them after being woken up late at night/early in the morning and b) believe or even just help despite the only evidence being a panicked first-year who seemed to be speaking gibberish and his paranoid friend that number includes only Fred and George who don't believe it but don't mind seeing what great prank might have come from the crazed mind of a brilliant, overworked Muggleborn, the boy-who-lived-to-be-badass-and-possibly-madder-than-a-box-full-of-merpeople and the clumsiest boy in first-year. They have already offered their services in case the kids need their products to get out of trouble after something goes wrong and seem genuinely glad to be given the opportunity to raid the kitchens at one in the morning under the protection of the boy-who-lived.
They even invite Ron. He isn't keen on being woken up but is out of his bed at the thought of food and the threat of being left behind. Hermione is certain he didn't process anything about the zombies.
Harry leads the charge. Well, rather the sedate walk.
They freeze as they come across a stream of hufflepuff- all years together- streaming from the Great Hall in the vague direction of Tim's room.
"They shouldn't notice us." Harry says nervously as they tread past.
"Tim is great." Says one.
"Praise Tim." Declares another without looking at the one who spoke first.
If it weren't so terrifying in the darkness of the castle it might seem funny.
Only now do Fred and George pale slightly.
"Bloody hell, Fred!" Whispers George. Fred replies in kind and they keep staring at them, trundling past them obliviously.
"He must be calling them." Says Hermione, scribbling something in her notebook, "That means tomorrow will be carnage. We'll have to get as much food and drink as we can. We don't know how long we're going to be stuck in the common room and we don't know how these zombies work." She says calmly, hands shaking only slightly. The witch clenches her fists and breathes out, marching past Harry.
She looks back at the group of boys.
"Well- don't tell me you don't trust Harry's spellwork." The girl smiles thinly, wand held in a neutral position for now. Fred and George step forwards too and the group speed up, heading deeper through the crowd who don't notice them at all.
There's a smash from somewhere else and they hear Peeves cackle.
"Naughty Hufflepuffs out of bed- what's going on here?" From elsewhere comes the sound of Professor McGonagall in full Scottish rage.
"I'm glad that not me she's yelling at." Mutters Ron. Everyone laughs despite their situation.
"I think I'd quit being a zombie if she did." Says Neville, smiling.
Cheered slightly by the sounds of a threat being taken seriously even if misunderstood the adventurers continue on to the painting of the fruit bowl.
The kitchen is revealed to them and Fred and George usher the first-years inside, quietly whispering about House Elves to Harry and Hermione. If anyone is watching closely enough they would see the second fire of determination light in the witch's eyes.
Silently the House Elves watch as several of their number pull the sextet to a little table which the twins seem very comfortable at.
"Tonight I think we need something calming." George says, propping his feet on the table and stroking an imaginary beard. Fred mirrors him.
"Yes- maybe with a little extra-" Says Fred.
"You-know-what." Finished George, both of them eyeing the elf between them. It's great ears flop forwards as it nods.
"Flipsy will do her best but Dumblydores had been telling us elvsies that the boy twins are too young for drinkses." She chides. The boys both nods solemnly.
"But Flipsy-" Says one.
"-we're in a rather-" Continues the other.
"-unfortunate situation." The twins lower their legs to the floor, folding their arms over their knees.
"You see Hogwarts has been taken over-" Confesses George with a sigh.
"-and we need a bit of liquid courage." Sighs Fred.
"Just enough to help us prepare to take back the castle." Pleads George.
"For us." They finish. Flipsy looks panicked and theirs a whisper which spreads in ripples throughout the room.
"Hoggywarts is in danger?" Shouts one of the elves, dropping their rolling pin.
"Yes." Says Hermoine, standing from her chair, "There are a number of students who have been turned into zombies by Tim- he's the new teacher- and they're on the move. We are leading the rebellion against them to take back the school but we need help. We need a way to get supplies and spies to keep a watch on the enemy. Will you noble elves help us?" She finishes, now standing on the table.
The elves consider, talking amongst each other.
Slowly more and more trickle to the front. Almost all of them join but some of them don't seem to believe.
"If you studentses are telling the truths we will stand with you." Says an elf who seems somehow older than the rest, ears that little bit larger and skin just that much more wrinkly.
"We can gets foods and drinkses to everywhere in Hoggywarts. We can spy on wizardies and witchses without being seen if they aren't our masterses." The elf declares.
"But we needs proof." He says. The rest of the elves nod alongside him.
"For Hoggywarts." He states and the community echo him, possibly a hundred voices ringing out in alliance.
"For Hogwarts." Agrees Hermione, beginning the tricky business of clambering down from the table.