Foods & Drinks

With three weeks left until the ball I decided it was about time we decided about foods and beverages, waking up on a Saturday morning without breakfast in order to decide which road should we take in that matter. As everyone loves to wake up early on a Saturday with no classes I had an exciting meeting with them at the Teacher's Room, which was, obviously, empty too. I was apparently the only one stimulated with the perspective of free food and drink, since the first thing Kile asked was:

"Why are we here?"

"Well, as the ball is in three weeks I thought we could start planning the drinks and food that will be served."

"I'd suggest Honeydukes." Amy yawned as I wrote the name down, even though I doubted sincerely that the guests would like to spend the whole party eating chocolate frogs and liquorices wands. James raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"I suggest Rosmerta. She's nice, cool and makes everything. Beverages, courses and sweets. I just doubt it will be cheap."

As I wrote the idea now I felt a pinch, as though I was being watched. I elevated my eyes and caught him observing me distractedly. James had changed a lot since that disgraceful party of Sirius. His hair was longer, and now he ceased to keep messing it up all the time. Days before I had seen him defending a second year from Avery, from Slytherin, who was probably trying to curse the boy. He and Sirius had stopped to bother everyone, and even the Professors were starting to compliment them. I beamed lightly to him, and only spoke when we were alone, after I sent Kile and Amy to Professor McGonnagal in order to ask for permission to go to Hogsmeade to talk with Rosmerta and the owners of Honeydukes. Better said, we were technically alone.

"You know, I had another suggestion, but I dunno if it's viable." He approached whispering, and I frowned. "Have you ever been at the place where all our food is made?"

"No, but I suppose there are cooks here. Every school does."

You can call me lazy, disinterested, but I've never really cared about who made the food, and really thought there would be cooks. After all cooking must've been much easier with magic. James shook his head as I raised the hypothesis, and after looking around, he ripped a piece of parchment ("hey!" I yelled as he did it) and wrote a note saying we were out to solve an issue with the food (he really wrote "issue with food") and would be back soon, so Amy and Kile were to wait for us. Then, he pointed at the door.

I followed James to the Great Hall, where a few early risers ate breakfast, but he wasn't leading me there. He entered through a door by the end of the hall, which led to precipitous stairs that went underground apparently. When we reached a tapered corridor, dimly lit by candles on the walls, my heart stopped. What on earth did he want there, I asked myself desperately. I was about to yell about being attacked when James started heading straight. My eyes caught a glimpse of the portraits on the wall, all of them of a food theme.

Along the hallway I saw another staircase, which we ignored, and stopped by the end of the way, facing a dead end of stone with a fruit paint, a green pear stressed in vivid green from the other fruits. I stood rigid and put my hands around my waist, tapping my foot on the floor.

"Cool, a fruit portrait."

"Easy now." He laughed and started moving his fingers over the pear, sort of tickling it. I was on the verge of rolling my eyes and telling he has serious mental issues when the portrait started moving, reminding me that, as a witch, I should be prepared to see almost anything, including a fruit portrait which lead directly to…

"THE KITCHEN!" I yelled as soon as James and I passed through the threshold of the place. I must've rendered my chin useless when I saw about a hundred elves darting around, some carrying trays filled to the top with the same cake the people upstairs were eating, others flying with barrels of pumpkin juice to fill smaller jars. Never had my eyes seen so much food, or so many dishes. A mountain of it was being washed, a pile of plates, cans and pots which ended on the ceiling even though it didn't seem to upset the elves, on the contrary. The only thing that made them happier than seeing so many dirty dishes to wash was seeing James there.

"Mr. Potter!" an elder elf stopped cooking the soup he was working on (which was promptly attended by two more elves the moment the stopped) to talk to us. "What do you need, sir?"

"Hey, Quib!" James beamed amiably and kneeled to be at the same height the elf was. I lowered too, but the elf seemed outraged by the fact there was no one else for them to feed. Swaging his hands madly and agitatedly he called a near elf, who put about five slices of cake on my lap. She didn't stop to insist until I started eating, and then James started:

"We're throwing a graduation party, Quib, and we wanted to know how much would it cost for us to rent your work for a night. Full served dinner, beverages, service and all."

"Cost?" the elf wriggled his face until it became a misshapen mass with a pointy nose, as if the sheer pronunciation of the word sickened him. "You don't need to pay anything for the service, Mr. Potter. Quib and the other elves here are fully satisfied just to please you and your friends, Mr. Potter."

"Has Mr. Black come?" the elf who was "serving" me appeared, interestedly looking around. I beamed enchanted at her. Her eyes, as big as tennis balls and lavender as two pearls, shinned dreamily. Sirius is a dog.

"Not today, Yara." James tidied his glasses on his face and I felt a sudden affection for him. Lately he had been nice, gentle and generous, besides never missing an opportunity to be kind to me. I decided to procrastinate these thoughts for later whilst James bargained some kind of payment with Quib, who denied restlessly accepting anything.

"So, Quib, free, then?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Ok, bye! Be call, I'll come later to take the food." He talked loudly as many elves approached with tons of food for us. As the door closed behind us I crossed my arms.

"Ok? James, I refuse to throw any sort of party by which these elves are not receiving any payment! I refuse! I mean, I thought elves only cleaned, but they cook too!"

"They're happy living like this." James shrugged, and I started to revolt.

"I refuse to do it unless we pay them."

"I've got an idea. House-Elves hate clothes, because they mean freedom…"

"So what? Let's give them clothes, make them free!"

"Lily, believe me. Hogwarts is the best place for a House – Elf, freeing them would only make them suffer. I've had a long talk with Quib, he said Dumbledore treats all of them very well and doesn't care if something goes wrong sometimes. Wizarding families are far crueler to them."

"But your…"

"My family is an exception. Quib always said Dumbledore treats them very well."

I crossed my arms, resigned. If rumors are true, they'd better stay at Hogwarts, anyway. But under no circumstances I would use their service without paying.

"I want to reward them."

"I had an idea."

"What?"

"Can't tell, it's part of the decoration."

"You can tell me!" I assured him, but he just laughed and ran in front of me. "PLEASE, TELL ME! I'M CURIOUS! JAAAMES!"