Hermione stayed back after class. Kids were making a habit of this.
"I found the entrance to the kitchens," she said with her head held high, a little bit defiant. Apparently the other students still weren't taking her very seriously. "We can go there, right now. Are you coming?"
"I promised, didn't I?" Ed said, and pushed himself to his feet. "Which way?"
Hermione led him through the halls without hesitation. The kitchen turned out to be not far at all from Ed's rooms, which he took a mental note of, and you didn't even need a wand to go in; Hermione tickled the pear of a large fruit bowl painting, and it giggled before morphing into a doorknob. Magic was weird.
"Mr. Professor!"
Ed glanced over and smiled when he saw Dobby turned toward him, eyes wide and ears perked up.
"Mr. Professor didn't call for Dobby, did he?" Dobby asked anxiously. "Dobby has been busy, sir, but Dobby didn't think he wasn't paying attention!"
"Nah, it's good to see you, but that's not what we're here for," Ed said, waving the thought away. Hermione was looking furtively around the kitchen, pinched with worry. It looked like a pretty normal kitchen to Ed, albeit a big one like the military bases had, and run with fires and runic iceboxes instead of electricity. "Hermione wanted to ask about house elf work conditions, remember?"
"Ohh!" Dobby exclaimed, somehow perking up even more. "Dobby knows who would like to talk about that, yes, Dobby does! Dobby talked about it with everyone!"
Hermione beamed at him. "Thank you, Dobby! That's very helpful!"
Dobby beamed back, and then turned and trotted away, dropping off the pot of peeled potatoes he was carrying by an elf who was snapping potatoes into perfectly cubed pieces. Ed couldn't hear over the din of activity, but from the way they were swaying, Ed thought they might have been humming a tune as they worked.
There was a small cluster of tables that looked free – in fact, there was a waifish, hollow-cheeked second-year student sitting at one, snacking quietly by themselves. Ed wondered if students came by often – especially, say, students looking for extra food.
They sat down, and only a few minutes later, Dobby returned with a few other house elves. One of them looked very old, one of them fairly young, and the last was wringing their ear nervously. All three were wearing draped cloth tunics with the Hogwarts crest, which appeared to have been lovingly tailored from something else – pillowcases, maybe.
"Dobby says that Mister and Miss are curious about house elves," the oldest elf said, hands clasped behind his back and looking at them with an appraising eye. "I am Bitsy, the young one here is Tammy, and Xena is a family elf. Bitsy wants to know what makes Mister and Miss ask about house elves' work with wizards."
Hermione was looking suddenly shy, so Ed took over. "Hermione and I are both from the Muggle world, so a lot of wizard culture is pretty confusing to us. For us, the only context we have for working without pay is human enslavement, which is generally considered one of the worst things one person can do to another. I was made to understand that your situation was different, though, and we were wondering if you could tell us about it."
Bitsy made a sound of comprehension. "Ah- Bitsy has been wondering why Muggleborns react so badly to house elves. Bitsy assumed they found us strange." He ruffled his tunic. "Humans and money... Bitsy understands that a society that demands precise exchanges of work and value must take outrage at- Bitsy will call it theft, yes?"
He shook his head, looking bemused, and the younger elf piped up, hopping from foot to foot with what seemed to be excess energy.
"But it is good! It would make it hard to be unfair. Wizards can take too much when they think it all is free!"
"Tammy has been listening to Dobby," Bitsy said dryly. But Hermione was perking up, like a spider whose web had been tickled.
"You want to be paid?" she asked hopefully – wanting to be proven right, Ed supposed.
Tammy looked startled. "No, no, miss! Tammy doesn't want pay, no she doesn't. Tammy wants room to breathe, yes miss, but not pay!"
Hermione opened her mouth, and Ed nudged her arm firmly. "Why don't you want pay? Don't you want something for your effort?"
Tammy stomped her foot, looking irritated. "No, no, no! Wizards always say that! So rude!"
"Tammy," Bitsy reprimanded, and Tammy subsided, looking mulish. To Ed, he said, "A well-treated house elf is part of a wizard's family. To us, that is all there is: there are those that are family, and those who are not family. Does a mother ask for pay to care for her children? Or a grown child to care for their elderly parent? No. That would be terribly crass, yes?"
Hermione's lips parted, surprise and uncertainty creeping into her expression, and Ed tilted his head and nodded slowly.
"But most children at Hogwarts never even meet you," she protested weakly. Bitsy clicked his tongue at her disapprovingly.
"You are all children," he said. "Children ought to be cared for. The professors, the caretaker know most of us by name. All is well here." He smiled. "You oughtn't be concerned. House elves take pride and joy from taking good care of their communities, and Hogwarts is a noble community to care for."
"What about Dobby, then?" Ed asked. Bitsy frowned, looking concerned, and Ed elaborated hastily, seeing Dobby look over with wide eyes, "It's not a problem, I love the little guy and he asks for next to nothing. I'm just curious."
Bitsy's expression cleared. "Dobby is from a very bad family," he said heavily, shaking his head. "His goodwill, it is much used up. He wants to work but he does not want to be exploited, and Bitsy thinks pay reassures him. But you see that Dobby does not ask for very much; in the end he still enjoys caring for others, and he knows that it is his responsibility, not his burden."
"So you're more like... full-time volunteers?" Hermione asked tentatively. All three made confused sounds, one after another, and she had to hide a guilty giggle. "Um, it's something Muggles do. They might work at a soup kitchen, or a donation center or something, and they'll give food and clothes to people without taking any money. People do it just to be kind."
Bitsy smiled warmly. "It is a little like that, yes."
"You've made a couple references to bad families," Ed said, pleased that he was starting to build a picture of this institution. "What does that mean to you?"
"Bad families," Xena said softly. Bitsy cast her a pitying look.
"Xena is Tammy's older sister," Bitsy explained. "Xena is too fretful to work very much, but she was very interested when Dobby mentioned your inquiries, Miss Granger."
Hermione's eyes widened a little. "And... she doesn't have to work any more than she can? I mean, comfortably can?"
"Never," Bitsy said firmly. "Hogwarts has many house elves, yes it does, so no one need ever work too much."
"Bad families make their elves work too much," Xena said quietly. "One elf will do all of the chores and the family will do none, and give the elf nothing. Bad families make their elves do bad things to themselves for petty reasons, or make them work naked, or sleep in bad places..."
She rocked on her heels unhappily, shivering, and Tammy took over, bouncing on her toes with odd ferocity.
"Bad families are mean and cruel! They say bad things and insult their elves lots, and hit them, and won't let elf families stay together unless they all work! Spiteful, mean, bad families!"
"Can I write this down?" Hermione asked intently, and squeaked when Bitsy snapped his fingers, providing parchment and a quill. "Oh- thank you- so that's, um... the end of corporal punishment, mandated maximum hours for single-elf households... or maybe per elf? Per elf might be safer, if there are medium-sized households. Um- material to make their own clothes, if they can't be given any... And a certain quality of bedchamber? I don't know how to quantify that. Oh, what do child emotional abuse laws look like..."
"She's writing down how laws might be made so that these things can't happen," Ed explained, seeing Bitsy's ears twitch dubiously. "I think it's especially important in a situation like this, where wizard and elf ways of thinking are so different. For wizards, unless there's standard rules for how to treat an elf, they probably won't put a lot of thought into it. This way, abused elves would have someone to report to and a way to get out."
"But that would be a betrayal of the family," Bitsy said, heavy and unhappy.
"They'd have to betray you first," Ed said. "If it makes you feel better, there's rules about that in human families too – I don't know about wizards, but Muggles have laws against child abuse and neglect, and you can divorce your spouse for those things too. It's like... you've gotta send your child to school, and feed them enough or whatever. You can't hit them, you can't make them feel like shit. That's a law. That's a whole bunch of laws."
Bitsy looked uncertain, but Hermione was nodding fervently.
"Xena likes that," Xena said quietly. Bitsy softened right away.
"Bitsy will speak to the other elves," he said. "There are more who might have things to say."
"Is that a fucking dragon?" Ed asked incredulously, staring at the roaring beast caged inside the stadium, waiting to be led inside.
Alastor snickered at him, which was completely unfair. "Sure is. Welsh Green, mostly seen in the wild flying over the Irish Sea to hunt for fish. Doesn't mean it won't take a human if it sees one."
"A dragon," Ed repeated with delight, leaning against the railing to look.
He was excited to see what the tournament would be like. Despite all the time he'd spent at Hogwarts already, Ed was sure he'd only seen a fraction of what magic could do. And sure, these were students, but they were good, clever students... and he and Cedric had been here just a few days ago, going over the composition of the earth.
He wondered if Cedric would use what he'd learned.
"Calm down and stay in your damn seat," Alastor said, grabbing a fistful of Ed's robes and dragging him back. Ed yelped and sat down hard, giving Alastor an offended look, which the man ignored.
Minerva, a row back, was chuckling. "It's easy to forget that Muggle adults can be as infatuated with the magical world as the children new to it," she said fondly. Ed tilted his head back and grinned at her.
"You'd have to be dead inside not to be," he said. "There's nothing in the world like learning something new. And today I learned that dragons are real."
It didn't quite describe the rush of delight and discovery that kept Ed company while he was getting to know Hogwarts, but from the affectionate look Minerva wore, it came close enough. There was a reason that Ed was putting up with the temporary loss of his automail.
The announcer – Bagman, Ed recalled – explained the task over the magical equivalent of a loudspeaker, and Ed didn't think it sounded too bad. He definitely could have done it at their age, and honestly, he probably could've done it at thirteen or fourteen. Easier than a spar with the Colonel.
"Imagine if the imposter had gotten his way," Alastor muttered, and Ed's smile faded.
The task wasn't bad for these kids, who had damn near finished their schooling and were probably some of the brightest in their schools in one way or another. Harry attended alchemy only sporadically, so Ed didn't know him well, but he seemed like a kid who kept his head down and tried not to be noticed. Ed knew the type – Harry assumed that any attention was going to be bad attention, and he didn't want it.
"Why Harry, anyway?" he wondered aloud, and at least five people turned away from the arena to gape at him. He frowned back. "What?"
He didn't get an answer; at that moment, Bagman called for Cedric, who emerged from the tent only a few moments later. His steps were slow, almost dragging, and his eyes were fixated on the dragon with apprehension that was obvious from a hundred feet away.
Alastor clicked his tongue. "Looks like no one cared enough to warn the kid," he said with a touch of pity. Ed frowned at him.
"Wasn't it supposed to be a surprise?" he asked. Alastor barked a laugh.
"Yep. But Karkaroff and Maxime aren't interested in playing fair; Dumbledore's the only one that much of a bleeding heart. If they haven't told their champions what was coming, I'll eat my wooden foot."
"Huh," Ed said. "Well, bully for them. Long as Cedric keeps his head, he'll be fine. He has all the tools."
"Has he been attending your lessons, Professor Elric?" Minerva asked, with a degree of surprise that was kind of rude. Ed nodded anyway.
"We came out here yesterday to go over the composition of the grounds, just in case. I don't know what spells he could use to help him with this, but he definitely knows enough alchemy to get him through, if he plays his cards right."
It didn't appear at first that Cedric was planning on using alchemy. He hid behind a rock, out of sight of the dragon, and worked with a large loose stone for a while – repeatedly trying the same spell, Ed guessed, and failing due to his nerves. But eventually the rock grew legs and a head, becoming a horrible rock-dog hybrid, and one swift swat had it running away, yipping in terror.
Despite the obvious botching, it did its job. The rock-dog ran away across the arena, yelping wildly, and the sound echoed around the arena with unnatural volume. The dragon's attention turned sharply onto it, and it hesitated only a moment before lunging in pursuit – not too far from the eggs, but no longer so close.
"Sonorous spell on the transformed creature," Filius murmured. "Very clever, Mr. Diggory." He sounded proud.
Cedric didn't run out right away, and Ed squinted at him, trying to make out what he was doing. After a minute, he concluded that he was scratching something into the ground with his wand, and he found himself smirking.
"What's this, do we have a champion with some knowledge of rune magic?" Bagman called out, sounding delighted by the surprise. "But we'll see if he can pull it off – runic magic is famously tricky!"
Cedric pressed his palm to the circle, and energy crackled out from his hand, seething across the ground toward the dragon. Along the way, slowly, it started to accumulate a swell of clay and stone, and like a slow and groaning tide, it chased the dragon without the creature's notice.
"Why, that's not runic magic!" Bagman shouted. "I don't believe I recognize it at all!" Pause. "Great Scott! Dumbledore tells me it is an obscure form of alchemy, which Diggory could only have begun learning at the start of this school year! What resourcefulness!"
The pile of earth finally caught up to the dragon as both it and the not-dog reached the edge of the stadium, forcing the dragon to skid to a halt. As soon as it did, the clay wrapped around its forelegs and hardened, holding it fast. The dragon tugged at its trapped forelegs and roared in frustration, and for the next few minutes was preoccupied with its struggle against its bonds.
Cedric ran for it, and Ed rocked forward in his seat and cheered loudly, a shout of excitement that blended with the rest of the crowd. The dragon's head snapped up, and then it looked around and shrieked in rage when it saw Cedric going for its nest. It spat fire, but it was too far away, so it turned its attention back to its bonds.
With the mighty strength of a nesting mother, the dragon roared and heaved upward, freeing itself and sending broken rock in every direction. Nearly in the same motion, it turned and took off after Cedric, shrieking madly as it dove for its nest. Cedric grabbed the egg as he passed by and kept running, and by the skin of his teeth, made it to cover before the dragon got close enough to hit him. The dragon paced and scoffed a few times, clearly unhappy, but stayed braced over its nest instead of giving chase.
The crowd cheered, and Ed let out another shout of excitement.
"An excellent performance, as expected of our champion," Minerva said, smiling proudly down at Cedric, who was wisely remaining under cover as the handlers came to retrieve the dragon. "And a fascinating display of alchemy- Professor Elric, could you perhaps shed some light on that for us?"
Ed hummed, leaning back again to consider. "Kudos to him for being able to do that kind of math on the fly so soon after learning what math is," he said after a moment. "The circle's pretty basic, but it was a good idea to use his wand to carve it out. And the speed wasn't bad, considering how new he is to it." He tilted his head back to grin at her. "Honestly, the cleverest part is that he thought to prepare ahead of time, even though he didn't know if alchemy would be useful."
"Know your surroundings and use your resources," Alastor said gruffly. "Boy will go far if he keeps that up."
"Mr. Diggory has always been fond of compensating for natural talent with hard work," Minerva said warmly. "Though he has his fair share of that as well. I'm certain that the judges will recognize that much."
Cedric did get high marks across the board, the lowest being Karkaroff, who gave him six points. He left the field with his head held high, in a much better mood than when he'd entered, and the next dragon was led in by its cautious handlers.
"You're taking this quite well, Professor Elric," Filius said. Ed cocked an eyebrow at him. "I understand that Muggles typically have more delicate sensibilities when it comes to dangerous situations."
Alastor barked a laugh.
Ed snorted too, suddenly understanding. "I had kind of a weird childhood," he said dryly, "on top of it being objectively shitty. My sense of danger is kind of skewed." Filius glanced down at Ed's limp sleeve, and he almost rolled his eyes. "Trust me, that was just the beginning." Or maybe the middle. Rock bottom, really.
"I assumed you were older," Filius admitted, doing a half-decent job of not sounding unnerved.
"Most people do these days," Ed said, and was thankfully rescued from the rest of that conversation when Bagman announced the entrance of Fleur Delaceur.