Despite his mind racing with theories about ancient magic and detection methods, James forced himself to stop and acknowledge a more immediate problem: he needed food.
He'd skipped both breakfast and lunch, and it would be several hours until dinner. He hadn't eaten anything since last night's meal, and his body was beginning to protest. The last thing he needed was to faint from hunger in some corridor and wake up in the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey lecturing him about proper self-care.
James knew where the kitchen was supposed to be, near the Hufflepuff common room, according to the books. But he'd never actually been there, too distracted by the castle walls mystery to make the journey. Thankfully, he knew the general direction of the Hufflepuff common room from his mental map of the castle.
The walk took longer than he'd anticipated. The Charms corridor was on the opposite side of the castle from the kitchens, and the route required navigating multiple staircases and corridors. James passed a few students along the way, most of them heading outside to enjoy the pleasant Sunday afternoon.
Finally, after twenty minutes of walking, James reached the corridor he was looking for. The paintings here were cheerful, depicting various food-related scenes: feasts, harvests, and bustling marketplaces. And there, among them, was the painting he sought, a large bowl of fruit, with a particularly plump pear sitting prominently in the center.
James approached the painting and reached out hesitantly. Tickling a painting felt absurd, but he'd read about this in the Harry Potter books. His fingers made contact with the painted pear, and the sensation was strange, not like canvas or paint, but fuzzy, almost like touching peach fuzz or felt.
The pear giggled.
Actually giggled.
Then it transformed into a large green door handle.
James grasped it and pulled. The painting swung forward like a door, revealing a brilliantly lit corridor beyond. He stepped through, and the painting swung closed behind him with a soft click.
The kitchen was enormous, far larger than the Great Hall above it. The ceiling stretched high overhead, and the space was organized with impressive efficiency. Four long tables dominated the center of the room, positioned directly below where the house tables would be in the Great Hall. Around the perimeter were cooking stations, storage areas, and what looked like washing facilities, all scaled down to accommodate the kitchen's primary inhabitants.
House-elves.
Dozens of them bustled about, preparing what must be dinner. Some were chopping vegetables with impressive speed, their knives moving in blurs. Others tended enormous pots that bubbled merrily over magical flames. A group near the back was engaged in animated discussion, gesturing enthusiastically at what appeared to be a particularly stubborn stain on a tablecloth.
Everything was sized for the elves, the counters, the ovens, the storage shelves. If James hadn't known about house-elves beforehand, he would have thought he'd stumbled into an elaborate children's play kitchen.
The moment the door closed behind him, dozens of large round eyes turned toward him. The elves all wore clean tea towels wrapped around their bodies like togas, each one immaculately maintained. They looked happy enough, their expressions alert and curious rather than fearful.
Suddenly, four or five elves surrounded him, their high voices overlapping.
"Young student!"
"A visitor!"
"What can Tipsy be doing for you?"
"What would the young master like?"
They guided him toward the nearest table with surprising strength for such small creatures, practically pushing him into a seat.
"Hello," James said, raising his hands to get their attention. "My name is James. I'm a first-year Ravenclaw, and I haven't eaten anything since last night's dinner. Could I ask your names?"
The elves introduced themselves in a rush. Tipsy was the oldest, with large bat-like ears and kind eyes. Blinky was middle-aged by elf standards, her tea towel particularly well-pressed. Dobsy (no relation to Dobby, she assured him) was young and energetic. Winks had a small tear in one ear that gave him a slightly roguish appearance. And Keeny was the youngest, practically bouncing with enthusiasm.
When James mentioned he hadn't eaten since yesterday's dinner, they let out collective gasps of horror.
"Master James is not eating!"
"This is terrible!"
"Keeny must fetch food immediately!"
"But what would Master James like?" Tipsy asked, his voice more measured than the others. "Tipsy will make anything Master James wishes."
"Anything you already have prepared is fine," James said quickly. "I don't want to cause extra work."
But Tipsy was insistent. "What would Master James prefer? Tipsy is happy to cook!"
James thought for a moment. "Could I have some chips? French fries?"
Tipsy's face lit up with delight. "Yes, yes! Tipsy knows chips!" He snapped his fingers, and several potatoes flew through the air from a storage area, landing perfectly on his cooking station.
James watched in fascination as Tipsy worked. The elf's magic was different from wand-based spellcasting, more instinctive and integrated. The potatoes peeled themselves with a gesture. Another snap and they were cut into perfect strips. The oil in a nearby pot heated instantly, and the chips began to fry, floating in the oil and turning golden brown with precise timing.
The whole process took less than a minute and was accomplished without a single spoken word.
"Would the other elves like to sit with me while I wait?" James asked the remaining four.
They looked shocked, their large eyes growing even wider.
"Sit? With Master James?"
"But we is house-elves!"
"Please," James insisted. "I'd like the company."
Slowly, hesitantly, they climbed onto the benches across from him. It was clearly not something they were accustomed to, but James's genuine request seemed to override their usual protocols.
"How do you like working here at Hogwarts?" James asked.
Their faces brightened immediately. "Hogwarts is wonderful!" Blinky said enthusiastically. "The best place to work!"
"So many students to care for!" Dobsy added.
"And professors is always polite," Winks contributed.
James asked about their ages and was surprised to learn that Tipsy was 147 years old, Blinky was 89, Dobsy was 52, Winks was 43, and Keeny was only 34, practically a child by house-elf standards.
"What do you enjoy most about your work?" James asked, genuinely curious about house elves personal interests.
Keeny's enthusiasm was immediate and unexpected. "Keeny loves cleaning! Especially the messes from student pranks. The dung bombs are Keeny's favorite because they take so much time and effort to remove the smell properly!"
James couldn't help but smile, thinking of Fred and George Weasley's frequent corridor bombardments. At least someone appreciated their handiwork.
The other three elves primarily enjoyed cooking. They launched into a passionate discussion about the nuances of different cooking techniques, the satisfaction of a perfectly risen soufflé, the challenge of timing multiple dishes to finish simultaneously.
Nearby, another group of elves was engaged in an equally passionate debate about the best methods for removing different types of stains from clothing. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and James found himself genuinely interested in their perspectives.
Within ten minutes, Tipsy returned with a large plate of perfectly golden chips. "Master James's chips is ready!"
"Thank you, Tipsy. Could you sprinkle some salt and black pepper on them?"
Tipsy complied immediately, the seasonings appearing from nowhere to dust the chips perfectly.
"Do you have any ketchup?" James asked hopefully.
The elves looked confused. "What is ketchup, Master James?"
"It's a tomato sauce. Red, slightly sweet, a bit tangy. Good for dipping chips in."
Tipsy's face fell. "Tipsy is not knowing this ketchup. Tipsy is sorry for disappointing Master James!"
"It's not your fault at all," James said quickly. "I don't know the recipe myself, but I'll bring you a bottle when I come back after the Christmas holidays. Would you like that?"
Tipsy's expression transformed into pure joy. "Master James would do that for Tipsy?"
"Of course. You've made me excellent chips. It's the least I can do."
James ate quickly, the hot chips satisfying his hunger even without ketchup. The elves watched him with satisfaction, clearly pleased to see him enjoying their work.
When he finished, James stood and addressed all five elves. "Thank you all so much. I loved the chips, and I really enjoyed talking with you. I promise I'll visit again soon."
"Master James is always welcome!" they chorused.
"Anytime Master James is hungry!"
"Day or night!"
James left the kitchen promising to return, and genuinely meaning it. He'd liked talking to the house-elves. Their enthusiasm for their work was refreshing, and their perspective on castle life was unique. Plus, knowing he could get food outside of meal times would be useful for his frequent library and research sessions.
He made his way back through the castle toward the library, his immediate hunger satisfied and his mind returning to its earlier preoccupations. He still had those fifteen architectural books to return.
He was also aware that all his current passion projects, the rune puzzle, the ancient magic research, the spatial expansion work, were long-term endeavors. They'd take months or even years to complete. He couldn't let them completely derail his more immediate goals.
Time to refocus on finishing the seventh-year Charms coursework first, then he could allow himself to dive into the mysteries properly.
The library was quiet when he arrived, only a handful of students scattered throughout the vast space. Madam Pince looked up from her desk as he entered.
"Mr. Acton. Back again so soon?"
"Just returning the books I borrowed yesterday, Madam Pince. And thank you again for teaching me Libris Revelio. It was incredibly helpful."
She accepted the stack of architectural texts, checking each one carefully for damage before making notes in her lending register. "You read all fifteen in one day?"
"I have excellent memory, ma'am. I only need to read things once."
"Hmm." Her expression suggested she wasn't entirely sure whether to be impressed or suspicious. "Very well. Will you be borrowing more?"
"Not today, thank you. I have other work to focus on."
James made his way to his favorite spot in the ancient language section and settled at his usual table. The area was isolated and quiet, perfect for concentrated study.
He pulled out his seventh-year Charms textbook and opened it to where he'd left off. Time to finish what he'd started.
The mysteries of Hogwarts could wait a few more days.