CHAPTER 17

The brothers met up later that night in Dean's room, and Sam and told him about his meeting with Myrtle. He recounted everything from when he snuck up to the girl's bathroom, to how Myrtle became a ghost, to the fact she was undressing him with her eyes.

"What is it with you and the nerdy chicks?" Dean asked.

"I have no idea." he admitted shaking his head. "But she agreed to let us experiment."

"Yeah? How'd you get her to agree to that?" Dean asked.

Sam didn't answer. He awkwardly took a step to his left trying to avoid eye contact and accidentally knocked over a stack of books that Dean never bothered to put away.

"Oops." Sam faked, and began to pick them up still avoiding the question.

"Sammy?" Dean probed.

Sam pretended like he didn't hear.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing. Really." he insisted.

"Oh no, a ghost doesn't just stand still and let someone poke and prod it."

Sam paused and stared at Dean a moment. "You haven't met her yet."

"What is she getting out of all this?" Dean pressed.

Sam sighed. He knew he wasn't going to get out of telling him. "I sorta . . . promised her. . .I'd . . . visit her once a week. That's all, I swear!" he threw his hands up and surrendered.

Dean smiled. Genuinely smiled. "That's it?" He erupted into laughter. "You, uh . . . got yourself a ghostly girlfriend, didja?"

"Jerk!" said Sam.

"Bitch!" Dean responded in kind.

They both worked off the last of the laughs they had built up, at which point they said their good-nights.

The next morning, Sam began to pack a bag with books on ghosts, the poker from his small fireplace in his room, and a few other things he wanted to test. He got dressed and not a minute later Dean was knocking on his door. Sam grabbed the bag and joined him in the hallway.

"You ready, Loverboy?" Dean asked jokingly.

"Ha Ha Ha." Sam said. "Yeah, we need to find some salt though."

Dean thought a moment. "Well, we have three options."

"Okay?" Sam asked.

"One, we ask Severus, and I really don't want to bug him. Two, we steal it from the breakfast table, which might draw attention . . ."

"And three?"

Dean looked glossy eyed and far away as if daydreaming of his happy place. "Yeah, I'm going with three." He said and he took off at a fast clip.

"Wait, what?" Sam asked as he stood there, confused. He realized Dean was neither stopping, nor answering, so he made a mad rush to catch up with him.

He followed Dean through the corridors, down the stairs, and past the doors to the Great Hall, where everyone else was going. They took a few more turns and in a hallway Sam had not yet been down Dean finally stopped by a painting and let a group of Hufflepuffs walk by.

"What are we doing here?" Sam asked.

Dean grinned goofily from ear to ear. He looked up and down the hallway and saw that it was free of students. Satisfied, he suddenly he turned toward the large painting on the wall behind them, which was a huge bowl of fruit, and started scratching at the paint.

Sam nearly went off on him for defacing artwork but became distracted when the pear in the picture began to giggle.

A doorknob appeared, and Sam finally realized where they were going. The Hogwarts Kitchen. Dean turned the knob and the portrait swung open like a giant door. The second the portrait cracked its seal, the hallway, which already smelled of breakfast, became a hundred times more fragrant and their stomachs began to rumble with anticipation.

"You looked like you were having too much fun tickling that pear." Sam said.

Dean simply looked his way, gave him a wink and tongue click, and stepped into the frame sideways and out of view.

"I worry about him sometimes." Sam said to himself before following his brother through the painting's door.

Sam closed the latch behind him and turned to see at least a hundred knee-high creatures busily scurrying all around the enormous room.

Dozens of House Elves perked up from behind their food laden trays and they turned to look at them with their huge eyes. They were carrying them to four long tables that mocked the ones in the Great Hall on the floor directly above them. They had elongated and pointy ears, some of which drooped, some of which jut right out the sides of their head like Yoda. They were all wearing tea towels like togas, which all bore the Hogwarts crest.

Metal pots and pans were hanging all along the walls in rows, and were stacked in heaps in corners. Several stations of low tables, wash basins, ovens and such were occupied by the House Elves in the midst of cleaning and cooking.

"Heeeeeey! What's up guys!" Dean called out.

"Master Dean has returned!" one of them exclaimed joyfully catching the attention of those who had not yet noticed his arrival.

A chorus of House Elves cried out at once, "Master Dean!" followed by a scattering of cheers.

"Wow." Sam said to Dean. "You didn't tell me you had a Fan Club."

Dean laughed and waved at a few of the Elves he recognized from his previous visit. He leaned toward Sam a moment and said, "Heh, heh! Cheer up Sammy. You got your bird ponies, I get the Short Order Cooks."

"You would." Sam said under his breath as Dean moved forward to greet more Elves.

They hurried along, filling the tables full of Cornish pasties, kedgeree, kippers, and porridge. Black pudding, and toast, fried eggs and grilled tomatoes. The aroma was almost too much to bear here in the kitchen. Both of the brothers' stomachs rumbled in anticipation.

A little House Elf placed the tray he was carrying on one of the tables and then practically fell over himself to come greet them. He bowed low to Dean, and then Sam in turn and then looked up them both with his great big eyes.

"Master Dean, to what do we owe the honor of your return visit?"

"Hey, hey! How you doin'? Gorky, isn't it?"

The little creature gasped in delight that Dean had remembered his name and again bowed lowly to him. "Oh! Yes, sir! I am Gorky, at your service!"

"It's good to see you again." Dean said.

By this time, several other Elves had finished their tasks and joined the welcoming party.

"Everybody, this is my brother, Sam."

"Greetings, Master Sam!" they exclaimed in unison with bows so low their pointed noses nearly touched the floor.

Sam respectfully, if not awkwardly bowed back. "Pleased to meet you."

"Let's see here." Dean said. "This is Gorky, that's Woobey, that's Gerda, and Gretchen . . . they're sisters. "

Sam nodded to each of them in turn.

"And that one," Dean pointed to an Elf near one of the tables. "is Dobby." Dean watched Sam's face as his eyes lit up. He leaned in and said, "Don't get all fan-girly now."

Sam laughed. "I won't. I just wanted to see if he looked like the illustrations or the movies."

"And?" Dean asked.

"A little bit of both."

Gorky approached them and took them by their hands and led them further into the kitchen.

"Masters must be hungry! Gorky insists you must not skip breakfast, tsk tsk tsk." he chided.

"It's like an Italian family in here." Dean said to Sam. "All they want to do is give you more food."

Gorky, with brothers in tow, approached the now fully laden tables. He seemed to fall into place alongside a row of other House Elves. Sam and Dean realized there were at least a dozen of them encircling each table. Gorky cleared his tiny throat and raised his hands, and a hush fell upon the kitchen. All the chatter, dish washing, and clanging of pots silenced and all the other Elves also raised their hands.

Gorky gave a small nod and all at once they all shouted, "BREAKFAST IS SERVED!" and they all collectively snapped their fingers. There were multiple crack and pop sounds and the food on the tables before them disappeared!

Sam and Dean both applauded politely at their magical display. A few of them bowed humbly. In the blink of an eye, Gorky had made a hand gesture and they were suddenly surrounded Elves. Some were pushing them towards the tables, some were pulling them enthusiastically. Before they had even gotten within five feet of the table, there were already two place settings and a veritable feast laid out before them. They were all encouraging them to sit down and eat before they wasted away from hunger.

Dean and Sam thanked them profusely and Gorky remained by their side after all the rest had gone back to work.

Dean had already started stuffing his mouth with pasties when Sam turned to Gorky.

"Thank you again, this is all very nice of you."

He seemed taken aback. "Begging Sir's pardon, but it 'tis Gorky's job to do as such."

"Yes, but . . ."

"Sam." Dean interrupted. "I went over all that last time I was here. They are twice as insistent as a Jewish mother. It's no use."

Sam mulled that over. "Well, thank you anyhow."

Gorky bowed once again. "The pleasure is ours, Sirs."

"We actually just came to ask for some salt." said Sam.

"Salt! At once, Sirs!" Gorky said loudly.

Before he knew it, there were at least twenty House Elves closing in on them, all with salt shakers in their hands urging Sam to take them.

"Oh!" Sam said overwhelmed by the urgency of the jumping creatures. He looked over at Dean who was laughing uncontrollably through a mouthful of food.

Gorky seemed to be confused. "Is this not what Sir asked for?"

The Elves stopped jumping up and down and became still. They were all hanging on Sam's answer with baited breath. Some looked to be on the verge of tears for fear they had done something wrong.

"Yes!" Sam decided was the best answer, and they all exhaled and smiled with the knowledge they had done well after all.

"I was just wondering if we could get a lot of salt . . . . to go."

"How much salt does Sir require?" Gorky asked, and the Elves poised themselves to fetch it at a moment's notice.

"Oh, I don't know, uh . . . a couple of pounds ought to do it. I mean, if you can spare it!" he added.

"Of course, Sir. What kind will Sir be needing?" The Elves looked so eager they could hop right out of their shoes had they been wearing any.

"Kind?"

"Yes, Sir! Kosher salt? Pickling salt? Sal de Tavira? Black lava? Celery? Garlic? Fleur de sel? Himalayan?"

He seemed to get more and more excited with every salt he named. Sam held up his hands to stop him, but that only seemed to make him more desperate to offer more variety.

"Sea salt!"

"No, I –"

"SMOKED SALT!"

"No, it's just –"

"JUKYEOM!" he shouted excitedly, then began to pant.

"Regular old table salt is just fine." Sam managed to say. A dozen Elves quickly went to work, sprinting off toward the pantry.

Sam finally turned toward the table and took a few bites of his food. Damn but it was good.

"Does Sir require anything else?" Gorky asked.

Dean piped up. "Actually. I do have a favor to ask."

"Yes, Sir?"

"We have a long day ahead of us, and we are probably going to miss lunch."

"Would Sirs like a packed lunch?" Gorky asked hopefully.

"That would be great, Gorky. You're the best." Dean said giving him thumbs up.

"Would Sirs like the Special?" he asked.

"What's the –" Sam began to ask but Dean held a hand up to stop him quickly.

"That'll be just fine, Gorky. Thank you."

The little Elf ran off to tell the others and seemed overly excited about it. Sam looked at Dean with a "what just happened" look on his face.

Dean just laughed and said, "Watch this! You're gonna love this!"

Sam turned back around and watched as instructed. He saw the Elves bring out ingredients and place them on their counters and go to work setting prep stations.

Gorky cleared his throat, like before. "And a-one, and a-two, and a-three!"

The House Elves went to work and to Sam's surprise broke out into song.

"I like mine with lettuce and tomato!" sung Gorky.

"Heinz 57, and French fried potato!" answered the rest.

"Big kosher pickle and a cold draft beer! Gandalf, Almighty which way do I steer?"

Sam's mouth dropped open as he watched the spectacle unfold.

"You taught them Jimmy Buffet?"

Dean was laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. "Yeah." he managed to squeak out.

"Gandalf? Really, Dean?"

Dean just slapped his leg and urged with a pointed finger to keep watching.

The whole kitchen was now singing as they prepared "The Special" for them.

". . . For a cheeseburger in paradise!

Heaven on earth with an onion slice!

Not too particular, not too precise!

I'm just a cheeseburger in paradise!"

By the time they had finished the song, two packed lunches containing cheeseburgers, fries, kosher pickles and bottles of butterbeer had been prepared and presented to them in a picnic basket.

Sam and Dean broke out into applause and they all bowed lowly and began to clean their workstations.

They both finished their breakfasts and thanked them all for the wonderful time and delicious food. As they were headed for the door with their picnic basket, Dobby tugged on Sam's pant leg and handed him a five pound bag of salt.

"Thank you, Dobby." Sam said. "It was great to meet you"

"Sirs are too kind." He said simply and ran off to continue his chores.

Sam and Dean exited the kitchen with smiles on their faces.