"Still, maybe that is part of the fun of being a student here," Tyler said with a smile. "Maybe Hogwarts never prepared a proper map because it wanted young witches and wizards to learn independence by exploring the castle themselves."
He glanced along the shifting corridor, where portraits pretended not to eavesdrop and a suit of armour creaked faintly as they passed. "I suppose the founders expected us to get lost a few times. An ancient magical castle probably wants to be discovered, not simply walked through."
"You really do know a lot, Tyler," Hermione said, looking over at him as they continued down the stairs. "Sometimes I honestly feel like you are not the same age as the rest of us. Your magic is advanced, and you always seem to know something about everything."
"I have just read a few more books," Tyler said lightly. "And in other people's eyes, you are already impressive too, Hermione. You know far more than most students our age."
Hermione's cheeks flushed a little. "I only read ahead because my parents are Muggles, and I did not know anything about magic before my letter came. I thought it would be better to prepare as much as I could."
"That is exactly why you are impressive," Tyler said. "Most people get nervous when they are thrown into a strange world. You opened the textbooks and started building a path for yourself."
Hermione looked embarrassed, but she did not seem displeased. She hugged her Transfiguration book a little closer, and for a moment, the anxious edge she carried softened into something closer to quiet pride.
While they talked, the two of them reached the entrance hall on the ground floor of Hogwarts Castle. The great double doors to the right led into the Great Hall, and behind them came the low echo of scattered voices and clinking dishes.
When Tyler and Hermione stepped inside, the hall was still mostly empty. Only a few early-rising students sat at the long tables, eating breakfast or reading with the grim focus of people determined not to waste the first morning of term.
No matter what kind of school it was, there were always a few hardworking students who began the day before everyone else. The wizarding world was clearly no exception.
"Hermione, over here," Tyler said, choosing a place at the Gryffindor table. The benches were long and polished, and the enchanted ceiling above them showed a pale morning sky streaked with soft clouds.
Hermione sat down across from him, then looked at the empty table with a puzzled frown. "How are we supposed to get breakfast?"
The moment she asked, food appeared on the table. Plates of toast, fried eggs, bacon, sausages, grilled tomatoes, porridge, marmalade, butter, and pumpkin juice arranged themselves neatly before them, though the portions were modest enough to avoid waste.
"Oh," Hermione breathed, her eyes widening. "That is amazing. I wondered yesterday how all the food simply appeared. There must be some kind of transportation magic involved."
"It should be the house-elves," Tyler said. "They prepare the meals in the kitchens beneath us, then use their own magic to send the food up to the tables."
He looked over the breakfast spread, but his appetite did not stir much. It was not bad food, exactly, only heavy and greasy in a way that did not suit him first thing in the morning.
"Timo," Tyler called quietly. "Are you there?"
There was a soft crack, and a small house-elf appeared beside the bench, his large eyes shining with delight. "Young Master Tyler called, and Timo is here!"
Hermione nearly jumped. The elf was short, thin-limbed, and dressed in a plain tea towel, with ears that stuck out and a face so earnest it was difficult to look away from him.
"Timo, did Headmaster Dumbledore allow you to stay in the Hogwarts kitchens?" Tyler asked. His tone was calm, but there was a faint warmth in it that made the question gentler than it sounded.
"Yes, young master!" Timo said, wringing his hands excitedly. "Headmaster Dumbledore is very kind. He has allowed Timo to stay in the Hogwarts kitchens, so Timo can look after Young Master Tyler and Young Master Jamie properly."
"Good," Tyler said. "Then prepare my usual breakfast, please. Make two servings. Jamie will probably want his soon as well."
"Oh, honoured young master, Timo already prepared it!" Timo said, almost vibrating with joy. "Please wait only a moment. Timo will bring it at once."
With another crack, the house-elf vanished. Hermione stared at the place where he had stood, clearly torn between curiosity, concern, and the desire to ask at least ten questions at once.
"Was that a house-elf?" she asked at last. "I have read a little about them, but I have never seen one before."
"Yes," Tyler said. "That was Timo. He has taken care of me since I was small, and although he always calls himself a servant, he is not merely that to me."
Hermione looked at him carefully. "What is he, then?"
"Family," Tyler said. "He has been by my side for years. Whatever the customs of the wizarding world say, I do not think of him as something disposable."
Before Hermione could answer, several new dishes appeared on the table in front of Tyler. Instead of the standard Hogwarts breakfast, there were warm rolls, soft porridge, poached eggs, sliced fruit, delicate pancakes, and a pot of lightly sweetened tea.
The food was simple but carefully prepared, the sort of breakfast Timo knew Tyler preferred. It was lighter than the heavy sausages and bacon around them, and the smell alone made it far easier for Tyler to pick up his fork.
"Oh!" Timo appeared again with a crack, tears already streaming down his face. "Timo heard it. Timo heard what the young master said. Young Master Tyler is the kindest master in the world, and Timo is the happiest house-elf alive."
"Timo," Tyler said, already used to this reaction. "Do not cry at breakfast."
"Timo cannot help it," the elf sobbed, wiping his eyes with the corner of his tea towel. "Timo's heart is too full."
"You may return to the kitchens," Tyler said, waving a hand lightly. "I do not need anything else right now."
"Yes, honoured young master," Timo said at once. He wiped his nose, bowed so low his ears nearly brushed the floor, and vanished again.
Hermione watched him disappear, then turned back to Tyler with a troubled expression. "You were rather cold to him just now. Should you really speak to him like that when he was only trying to help?"
"If you understood house-elves better, you might not see it that way," Tyler said. He did not sound angry, only patient, as if he had expected the question.
"He was crying," Hermione said. "And he called you master. That does not seem right."
"I know why it bothers you," Tyler said. "But house-elves do not think exactly the way humans do, and pity can be insulting to them if it ignores what they value. If you truly want to understand them, the library should have books on their history, magic, and customs."
Hermione pressed her lips together. Her instinct was clearly to argue, but Tyler had not mocked her concern or dismissed the issue entirely, and that made it harder for her to respond sharply.
"I am not saying the system is perfect," Tyler continued. "I am saying that judging it from one scene is too easy. Read more first, then decide what you truly think."
Hermione looked down at her plate for a moment. "I suppose I spoke too quickly. I am sorry, Tyler."
"It is fine," Tyler said. "We should all read more. Knowledge is power, and books are often better teachers than anger."
Hermione nodded slowly, though her expression remained thoughtful. The matter of house-elves had clearly not left her mind, but for the moment she let it rest.
Tyler began eating his breakfast, while Hermione returned to the toast and eggs in front of her. Around them, more students started drifting into the Great Hall, some sleepy-eyed and yawning, others already talking loudly as if the morning had personally invited them to be noisy.
A few Gryffindors glanced curiously at Tyler's different breakfast, but no one came over to ask. At Hogwarts, strange things happened too often for one student's meal to hold everyone's attention for long.
Hermione took a sip of pumpkin juice, then looked toward the staff table. "Professor McGonagall's class is first, isn't it?"
"Yes," Tyler said. "Transfiguration. It is one of the most important branches of magic, and Professor McGonagall is extremely strict, so being late would be a terrible start."
Hermione immediately straightened. "Then we should leave early. I do not want to get lost and walk in after the lesson begins."
"That would be wise," Tyler said. "Especially in this castle."
He finished the last of his breakfast and set down his fork. If he truly lost his temper over a girl's momentary anger, his tolerance would be laughably small.
.....
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