Chapter 34: Kitchen Service
After a week of classes, Ethan slept for a full twelve hours that night and missed breakfast entirely.
"I'm starving!"
When he got up, the dormitory was empty. He grabbed a piece of candy from the stash he'd divvied up the night before.
"Boom!" Fire shot from his nose and ears, and he jerked fully awake.
"Good thing nobody got hurt," he muttered. "I can't hand these out. I'll keep them for myself."
He stashed the remaining two Pepper Imps.
"Maybe I'll give them to Hagrid as a gift. I bet he'd like them," he thought.
It was still hours before lunch, so he decided to hunt down the kitchen using a method he half-remembered.
After washing up, he headed down a staircase near the Great Hall and tried to find his way toward where he thought the kitchen was.
"Where's the kitchen? It should be down here somewhere," he muttered.
He wandered the corridors until he passed the Hufflepuff Common Room door, but still couldn't find the kitchen entrance.
He racked his brain, trying to remember the movies. Had they even shown the kitchen entrance? How did he know it was down here? Had he read about it somewhere, or seen it mentioned in the comments? The details were fuzzy.
As he kept wandering, he spotted two conspicuous redheaded boys laden with food coming down the corridor toward him.
The Weasley twins. Ethan's eyes lit up.
He hurried over to intercept them. "Hey, I'm Ethan, first year. I missed breakfast and I'm trying to find the kitchen. Any chance you could point me there?"
The twins exchanged a look. A first year hunting down the kitchen after just a week of classes? They liked his nerve.
"Course," said one. "I'm Fred Weasley, and this is George."
"Just keep going till you see the painting of the fruit bowl on the wall. Tickle the pear, and you're in."
"Which House are you from? We don't think we've seen you around Gryffindor before," Fred asked.
"Slytherin. Thanks, guys. I'm starving, so I'll be going now. See you next time," Ethan didn't bother with pleasantries as he headed off in the direction the brothers had come from.
"Slytherin has such polite first-years? That's quite rare." George shrugged, nearly dropping the food he was holding.
Fred reacted quickly and nudged him, saving the freshly baked pie.
"Which House doesn't have a few 'rebellious' ones? Setting that aside, doesn't Percy sometimes seem more like a Slytherin than a Gryffindor?"
"You're right."
The two of them carried their food toward the Gryffindor Common Room for a morning party.
With the brothers' help, Ethan successfully found the eye-catching oil painting.
He tickled the only pear in the painting, and it let out a chuckle, turning into a green doorknob.
As Ethan pulled the doorknob, he was startled to see about a hundred tennis-ball-sized eyes staring at him.
"Um, hello everyone. I'm here to find something to eat," Looking at the house-elves wearing identical uniforms who all looked very similar, Ethan couldn't tell them apart at all, so he simply spoke to the one closest to him.
"Of course, sir! Just ask, and we can prepare everything for you!" It wasn't just the house-elf in front of him speaking. The house-elves farther away were also shouting excitedly in their high-pitched voices.
"Well, thank you very much. I think I just need two pies and one, no, two roast meats. The portions should be large. I plan to give them to Hagrid," He'd thought for a moment before stating his request.
"Almost done, sir, please wait a moment!" The other house-elves immediately busied themselves, leaving one of them behind to guide him to a seat at a long table.
"Would you like something to drink, sir?" The house-elf looked at him expectantly.
"How about a cup of black tea? No sugar."
"I'll be right there!" The elf dashed off, and in less than a minute, a steaming cup of black tea was placed on the table.
"What's your name?" he asked, sipping the black tea, which tasted almost exactly the same as the one he'd had in Dumbledore's office.
"My name is Toto, sir!" Toto replied excitedly, as if he were honored that Ethan knew his name.
This sparked envy among the other elves, who hoped Ethan would ask their names too.
Unable to bear their intense stares, Ethan resigned himself to asking their names one by one.
"Shrek." "Kiki." ...
By the time he finished, the pies and roast meat had been sitting on the table for fifteen minutes.
"Thanks for your hospitality, but I should get going. Goodbye!" He grabbed the packaged food and fled the kitchen.
"You're all too enthusiastic. It's embarrassing." He shook his head, picked up the pie, and took a bite. "It tastes good."
He devoured the pie. Carrying the roast meat as a gift, he passed through the castle and headed out the back door toward Hagrid's hut.
The scenery along the way was beautiful, and it put him in a good mood.
Soon, he arrived at the cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
"Hagrid! Hagrid!" he shouted. No one answered.
He pressed his ear against the wooden door, listening intently.
He realized Hagrid wasn't inside. Fang didn't seem to be there either.
"Where did you go? The Forbidden Forest?" He couldn't help but look toward the dark forest.
Although he was curious about the Forbidden Forest, reason kept him from entering.
The Forbidden Forest was still too dangerous for him. He'd heard there were werewolves inside. Although he desperately wanted to see this legendary creature that he had heard of in his previous life, he was more afraid of being infected and living as neither human nor beast.
He sat down on a log, set the roast meat aside, drew his wand, and began practicing spells.
Professor Flitwick said that magic is the power to make things happen: so is it possible for me to conjure a flame that can ignite wood without Hagrid teaching me?
After practicing Lumos a few times with little progress, he pondered:
"Furthermore, Professor Flitwick said I should have a greater talent for fire magic and Dark Magic. Although I can't cast other fire spells yet, wouldn't I be able to learn this one easily?"
He looked at the pile of firewood Hagrid had stacked, found a piece about an arm's length away, set it on the grass apart from the pile, straightened up, and pointed his wand at the kindling.
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