Chapter 3: "Of Hobbits and House-Elves"

Hermione stood. "Shoo, shoo!" The girls scattered.

"Christmas dance?" said Frodo.

"Don't worry about it," Harry sighed. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Harry, but we've been walking a long way, with no proper food," Sam said.

"Of course," said Harry. "You must be starving."

"I'll bring them down to the kitchens," said Hermione. "Can I borrow your cloak, Harry?"

"Sure you'll be all right?" asked Harry and Ron together. Hermione glared at them and grabbed the cloak.

They headed down the stairs. After Hermione, Frodo and Sam had passed the Fat Lady, Hermione said "All right everyone, under the cloak. We're not supposed to go about after hours, and there's an ill-tempered caretaker here named Filch, who would not take kindly to our pilfering the kitchen late at night. Of course, getting there is the hardest part. Once we're in the kitchens, the house-elves will feed you anything you like."

"Elves," cried Frodo. "There are Elves here?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Well--no. Not the kind of elves you mean. Not ancient elves. These elves are...well, you'll see... Hey, Sam, watch that step."

Presently the trio found themselves in the Hogwarts kitchens. Sam marveled at the size of the kitchen and the array of brightly polished pots and pans. Dobby popped out immediately and said, "Miss Hermione, Dobby is so happy to see you and your little friends. Dobby heard about our new visitors, and has a small feast ready for you!"

Hermione was amazed that creatures so small could eat so much. The Hobbits refused nothing they were offered, even taking seconds and thirds. They happily stuffed pies, tarts, cream puffs, and seed cakes into their pockets.

Sam, looking the picture of contentment, leaned back in his chair and said, "Many thanks, Mr. Dobby. I wish my old Gaffer were here to admire your kitchens."

"Yes," said Frodo. "Now if only we had some pipe weed to aid in digestion!"

"Ooooooo! Smoking is not allowed at Hogwarts," Hermione chastised.

Dobby winked at the hobbits. "Come back tomorrow, small sirs."

They crept back upstairs, their bellies full and outlook much brighter. "Nincompoop," whispered Hermione.

As they climbed up to the Gryffindor common room, Sam asked
"Miss Hermione, who...or what are House Elves? I mean, there were no House Elves where we came from, I think."

Hermione frowned. "I'm a bit embarrassed to say so, but I really don't know."

"The history of little people is often forgotten," said Frodo.

Hermione said nothing, but gently patted Frodo's shoulder.

They found Ron and Harry still in the common room, playing chess. Ron looked up. "Finally. You're back." Self-consciously, Hermione pulled her hand away from Frodo. "Come on, Hobbits," said Ron. "I'll show you where the boys sleep."

Frodo and Sam settled into their four-poster feather beds. "We haven't slept in a decent bed like this since Rivendell," Sam sighed. "Good night, dear master."

"Good night, Sam." Frodo drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Elven kings.