The entire school filed out to watch the Quidditch match the next morning after breakfast. This, to Hermione, seemed the perfect excuse to linger behind, dart back inside, and explore the forbidden third-floor corridor.
Hermione felt prepared. She had with her a proper explorer's kit, assembled from many jaunts around the castle and odds owls sent to her parents. Her father, upon hearing she wanted to make an explorer's kit, had seemed oddly enthusiastic about sending her a backpack filled with a bedroll, mess kit, tinderbox, torches, lock picks, army rations, a waterskin, a crowbar, 50 feet of rope, and a grappling hook – one or two items at a time. By the time she was done assembling everything, the entire pack was incredibly heavy, and Hermione took out the rations, bedroll, and torches to help lighten it – she certainly didn't plan on staying in the corridor for days, despite her father's odd insistence.
Hermione had also gotten a music wand from Madam Pomfrey. Hermione had gone to the infirmary, pleading homesickness, and the nurse had given her the wand, suggesting a lullaby to help her get to sleep. The nurse had fixed her with a sharp look, telling her she wasn't about to give out Dreamless Sleep potions to young children for homesickness, but Hermione had been genuinely grateful for the music wand, and Madam Pomfrey's face had softened.
After carefully looking around the area surrounding the third floor corridor, Hermione activated the music wand and aimed an Alohomora at the door.
The giant, three-headed dog was still there, but as Hermione watched it, its face and ears seemed to droop with sleep, charmed by the Mozart issuing from the music wand. Hermione watched as it collapsed onto its paws, all its heads beginning to snore, and Hermione quickly shut the door behind her.
The trap door was just behind the dog, and Hermione was lucky it hadn't been blocked by the dog when it had collapsed. She was surprised to discover that the door opened with just a pull, but uneasy to see that it opened into black nothingness.
Biting her lip, Hermione left the music wand playing near the trapdoor, floating a few feet off the ground. It had an hour before it would automatically stop and need to be manually restarted again. She got out her grappling hook, and, after carefully wedging it onto the trap door and the floor (breaking some of the floor in the process – the grappling hook had sharper hooks than she'd thought), Hermione tied the end of the rope to her middle and began to climb down into the dark.
It was rough going. Her arms ached at holding her weight, and her hands were burning on the coarseness of the rope. As she climbed, Hermione nearly wished she'd brought a silken one, though she doubted it would have been strong enough.
Finally, Hermione reached the end of the rope, with still no end in sight. With a Lumos, Hermione peered below her, only to see that there seemed to be something green at the bottom – a bottom that was very, very far down.
It was as if she was supposed to just jump. Which seemed incredibly stupid, to Hermione – how was she supposed to get back up, if she jumped?
Muttering angrily, Hermione began to pull herself back up the rope. After a short while, though, she realized that her arms were beginning to burn and shake. Going down the rope had been a bit easier – climbing back up it hurt.
Hermione bit her lip, nearly drawing blood, as she tried to handle the pain in her arms. She couldn't just stay here – they would find her, and what would Snape say then? He wouldn't be happy with her, with her just dangling in the breeze in a forbidden area.
Thinking of Snape gave Hermione an idea. Dismissing her Lumos spell, Hermione craned her body and aimed her wand at her robes with a careful swish and flick.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
To her immense relief, she felt the spell take hold of her robes, lifting her slightly. Biting her lip, Hermione tucked her wand into her waist, being sure to keep her mental focus on the spell, and began to climb once more.
It was hard, keeping the spell going without using her wand, especially while she climbed, but Hermione could feel the spell on her body, lifting her just enough to take some of her bodyweight off of her arms, allowing her to climb back up the fifty feet to the top without her arms giving out.
When she finally made it out, hauling herself over the lip and collapsing onto the stone floor, it felt even harder to get back on her feet, put away the grappling hook, and close the trapdoor. The giant dog was still sleeping, and Hermione staggered to the door with the music wand, opening and closing the entrance and relocking it before finally turning off the music wand.
Unable to make it all the way to the dungeons, Hermione staggered into the nearby trophy room, leaned up against the wall in a corner, and promptly collapsed.
When Hermione awoke, it was dark out, and she felt much, much better.
Her arms ached, and Hermione reckoned she hadn't done that much physical activity in at least half a year. She seemed to have magically exhausted herself as well. Hermione hoped that whatever the Get Ron Weasley plan entailed, it wouldn't entail her casting any spells tonight. She could tell only a small part of her power had returned to her.
Staggering slightly, Hermione made it to her feet and left the room, making her way slowly down to the dungeons.
"Hermione?"
Hermione turned in the stairwell, surprised.
"…Ernie?"
Ernie stood there, a scroll tucked under his arm. He looked worried. "Are you okay?"
"Mostly?" Hermione admitted, looking herself over. "I'm magically exhausted, but I'll be alright."
"Is that why you missed dinner?" Ernie asked her. "You were too tired?"
"I got carried away practicing the Levitation Charm," Hermione told him, stepping around the truth. "I didn't realize I'd exhausted myself until it was a bit too late."
The worry on Ernie's face smoothed out, and he gave her a small smile.
"I've overdone it on studying a few times before myself," he said. "Want to stop by the kitchens with me and get something to eat?"
Hermione had been planning on eating one of the army rations she'd taken out of her pack, but fresh food sounded much better. "Yes, please."
Ernie led her down to the second floor, to a large picture of a bowl of fruit. Hermione watched as he tickled the pear in the painting, to see it magically morph into a door handle. Judging from Ernie's expression, she hadn't been able to hide her reaction.
"That's incredible," she told him. "How did you figure that out?"
Ernie colored slightly, scratching the back of his neck.
"The prefects told us all," he admitted. "The Hufflepuff common room isn't far from here – it's a secret they let us all in on."
They entered the kitchens, and Hermione stopped short.
"Those," she said, her eyes wide. "What are… those?"
There were masses of short, odd-looking creatures wearing torn (but clean) rags. They had long, floppy ears, gigantic eyes, and bony, thin limbs.
Ernie turned back to look at her, confused.
"The House Elves?" he asked. "They run the kitchens."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh…"
Looking at them with a new eye, Hermione bit her lip as she watched them. Ernie asked one of them for a plate of sandwiches, and the elf seemed only too happy to go and fetch them.
"This is… they're happy doing this?" Hermione said carefully.
"Yeah." Ernie shrugged. "They feed off the bond they have with a place or a family, and they get pleasure from working and doing a good job serving."
"Are these the only elves in the wizarding world?" Hermione asked. "If these are 'House Elves', are there other elves out there?"
Ernie frowned. "Come to think of it, I have no idea. There might be? Anyway, come over here."
He urged her over to take a seat, where she was presented with a large plate of sandwiches and a mug of pumpkin juice. Her eyes widened.
"This is great," she told the elf. "Thanks."
The elf blushed in pleasure, and murmured that if she needed anything else, to just let her know, before disappearing back into the mess of elves running around.
She and Ernie made light conversation while eating – Ernie mostly told her all about the Quidditch game, while Hermione made appropriate murmurings and gasps along the way, too busy eating for actual words. She came away with an understanding that Harry Potter had almost died from his broom being jinxed, but someone had counter-jinxed it in time to save his life, and in time for him to swoop down and capture the Snitch. Hermione made a mental note to interrogate Harry about that – what on earth had he done to make someone want to jinx him?
After the sandwiches were gone, Ernie and Hermione thanked the elves again, who blushed in pleasure. Hermione paused at the door, before leaving.
"Are you permitted to bring students things in the dormitories?" she asked.
The elves nodded rapidly, looking excited.
"Would you please bring a large tray of… let's say madelines, macarons, and tarts, to the Slytherin common room at 8 o'clock?" she asked, glancing at the clock, and seeing it was quarter 'til. "Is that enough time to make all that?"
The elves nodded rapidly, looking thrilled by the challenge.
"We will have to start right away, Missy Hermione!" one elf told her. "We will be making those right now!"
"Can you get them to the round table in the corner by the lake?" she asked. "The large one, with all the seating near it?"
"You is counting on us, Missy Hermione! Now shoo!"
The elf ushered her out of the kitchens, closing the door firmly behind her, leaving her bewildered in the hallway, Ernie laughing.
"They can be forceful, can't they?" he said, amused.
"They certainly can," Hermione murmured, brushing flour off her rear from the House Elf's hands. "And here, I was worried that they were slaves…"
Ernie looked uneasy.
"It might look like that at first, I guess," he admitted. "But they're more of a creature than a person. They live to work. It's a symbiotic relationship with humans, I guess. We can't exactly hold them to human standards, can we?"
"I suppose not."
Ernie grinned at her.
"Good to talk to you," he said, giving her a strong nod. "See you in class?"
Hermione nodded. "See you, Ernie."
Ernie strode off down the corridor, looking purposeful. Hermione watched him go, before heading back up to the trophy room, grabbing her stashed explorer's kit, slinging it over her shoulder, and heading down to the dungeons.
