Author's Note:
The Houses Competition (or THC) Round 2
Story Type: Drabble (up to 1,000 words)
House: Hufflepuff
Class: Muggle Studies
Prompt: [Location] Kitchen
Word Count: 984
Disclaimers/triggers: Dobby canon-typical attempts (but not completed) self-harm. Winky canon-typical misuse of alcohol.
Beta Love: Thanks for my teammates for betaing this story
The creatively dressed house elf stumbled into the kitchens,his sight blocked by a towering pile of flour, sugar, marzipan, and other baking ingredients. The other house elves ducked out of the way as he rushed through the kitchen.
"Excuse me!" he shouted. "Dobby is trying not to drop anything. Dobby needs these ingredients to make Harry Potter a cake."
His unbalanced trip through the kitchen ended abruptly as Dobby crashed into a counter, sending everything flying. He scrambled to pick them up.
The head kitchen-elf, a matronly elf called Theodora who'd worked in the kitchens as long as anybody could remember, walked over primly adjusting the pillowcase she used as an apron.
"Dobby." She spoke sternly, "Here at Hogwarts, the food is for all the students. We can't use the school pantry to make treats for specific students."
"Dobby didn't raid the school pantry, Theodora," Dobby reassured her as he adjusted the pile of hats tipping precariously off his head. "Dobby went to Hogsmeade and bought these ingredients with his own salary. Dobby will make Harry Potter a half-birthday cake."
Theodora ignored Winky's sob at the mention of the word "salary" and considered the matter. It was unconventional, but working with Dobby was always a bit unconventional. There seemed to be no regulation against it.
"Alright, Dobby," she decided, "you can bake your cake, but you need to be finished before the lunch rush, understand?"
"Thank you!" Dobby squealed, "Dobby will finish in time to help with lunch." With that, he grabbed a bowl, tore open some flour, and began to make his cake. The two elves with workstations to either side scooched to make way for the tornado of eggs and food coloring. After several minutes of preparation, Dobby slid the cake into the oven, set a magical timer, and wandered over to where Winky was drinking some butterbeer on the other side of the kitchen.
"Dobby is going to draw Harry Potter on a broomstick. Dobby isn't a very good artist, but Harry Potter is a very good quidditch player, so Dobby will try anyway," he said, trying to engage Winky in conversation.
"Winky used to make birthday cakes for Barty when he was little," Winky keened, her voice breaking towards the end of the sentence and prompting her to take another swig of butterbeer.
"Dobby thinks Winky probably made very good cakes," Dobby reassured her.
The conversation was interrupted by a loud alarm coming out of thin air. Dobby rushed to the oven and pulled the cake out in such haste that he forgot oven mitts and was forced to juggle it from hand to hand before snapping his fingers and hovering it to the counter. Bouncing from foot to foot in excitement he forced some frosting into a piping bag and drew a stick-figure riding a broomstick with a lightning shaped scar across the forehead. Underneath he wrote, "Happy 15 ½ Birthday Harry Potter!"
Theordora came to check on Dobby's progress. She scrunched up her brow as she noticed an unopened bag of sugar on the counter.
"Dobby," she called, "I thought you were going to use this sugar you bought for the cake. I told you not to use the school's food."
"Dobby didn't use the school's–" Dobby's voice trailed off as he saw the unopened bag of sugar and his face went pale. He looked around his work area and noticed the nearly empty container of salt.
"Dobby used salt instead of sugar," he whispered, aghast. "Dobby can't give Harry Potter this cake." With that, the house-elf opened the oven and looked about to put his hands inside as punishment, but Theodora was faster and grabbed the younger elf around his middle and pulled him away from the oven.
"Shh," she chided, "It's almost lunch now, but you can make Harry a cake tomorrow."
"Tomorrow isn't Harry Potter's half-birthday," Dobby stammered between attempts to bang his head on the floor.
"Winky can help," a quiet voice offered from behind the two. Theodora turned in shock, but remembered to keep a close hold on Dobby as she did.
"Winky doesn't usually help with lunch," she said shakily, "so Theodora doesn't need Winky's help to prepare lunch. Winky can help Dobby make a new cake."
Theodora considered it. It was true that Winky was usually too immersed in self-pity to help with lunch, and Dobby often tripped over himself and spilled ingredients in sheer excitement. It would be inconvenient to have an oven taken up by the cake during the frenzied preparation of lunch for dozens of hungry teenagers. Theodora sighed internally, it was worth the inconvenience to get Winky engaged and away from her butterbeer, she decided.
"Dobby knew that Winky would be a good cook!" he exclaimed as she showed him an extraordinarily life-like dragon molded from marzipan chasing a tiny model of a quidditch player adorned in crimson Gryffindor robes leaning out to grab a snitch. Dobby finished frosting the double-fudge chocolate cake and Winky placed the models on top of the three-tiered cake. In neat cursive she piped out "Happy 15 ½ Birthday Harry!"
Winky sniffed but allowed herself a small smile, "Winky learned to cook from her mother. Winky used to make birthday cakes for the entire Crouch family." She still sounded sad when she spoke about her old position, but the act of baking seemed to have centered her enough that she didn't burst into tears when discussing the topic.
"Does Winky want to send the cake up with Dobby?" Dobby asked. Winky nodded and the two elves carefully moved the cake to the center of the kitchen where it was exactly under the place where Dobby knew Harry liked to sit at the Gryffindor table. At the same time they let go of the cake and snapped their fingers and the cake disappeared, sent to a pleasantly surprised trio of teenagers upstairs.