Audience

Hmm, what fortuitous timing, Dumbledore thought later.

He had been taking a walk around the castle, enjoying the after-dinner feeling. The school felt different at different times of the day. The morning had an energy that was brisk and almost frenetic during the school week, a more relaxed and lethargic energy on the weekends or holidays. Noontime was bustling with everyone going to the Great Hall for lunch. Afternoons were quieter due to classes and the time during dinner was busy once more with people enjoying their evening meal or going to the library or clubs. As curfew approached, the atmosphere was lower and quiet, heralding the dark and sleep.

Dumbledore had heard footsteps descending the staircase leading up to the Owlery and had paused. Most people did not go to the Owlery this late in the day unless they needed to send a last-minute post or package. When he saw who came walking out of the stairwell and into the hall, he turned and smiled genially. "Good evening, Mister Potter."

Harry almost jumped. He had been lost in thought while walking and had not realized Dumbledore was there. "Oh! Hello Headmaster Dumbledore, Sir," he said nervously.

"Do relax," Dumbledore chuckled. "You are not in trouble."

"Yes Sir," Harry said, relaxing a fraction.

"Last minute post?"

"No Sir. I was visiting Hedwig. Hagrid gave her to me when we were at Diagon and I like to visit her."

"Ah yes, Hagrid mentioned that. He said she was a beautiful snowy owl and quite taken with you."

Harry smiled bashfully. "She's the best."

Dumbledore nodded, looking at Harry thoughtfully. "And how have you found your first week here at Hogwarts, if I may ask?"

"I like it, Sir," Harry said with a little hesitation. "Magic is cool and really interesting."

The headmaster had noticed the hesitation. "Magic is indeed very cool," he said, smiling at Harry's look. "I am much older than you and I still delight in all the possibilities magic provides. Why just the other day I learned a new spell that warms your socks before you put them on. Makes all the difference in the morning and I imagine it will be even more invaluable when winter comes."

He enjoyed Harry's laugh. When the boy had first descended the staircase, he had been very reserved and nervous, understandably of course. However, with just a little relaxing, the boy seemed to change entirely. "Is there something I can do for you, Mister Potter?"

Harry shook his head.

"Anything at all?" Dumbledore pressed. "If it is not too unreasonable, it will be considered."

After thinking for a few moments, Harry took a deep breath. "Could…could I visit the kitchens? I would like to see them and see who makes all the food. It's wonderful but it tastes so different and I'd like to know more. I also would like to make something if I could."

Dumbledore hummed softly. "I heard that you like to cook," he said at last.

Harry nodded, wondering where Dumbledore had heard that. Then he remembered the Potions class from earlier, flushing at the memory of what happened after.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Very well. Follow me. Let us see what we can do. Typically students are not allowed in the kitchens, but it has been known to happen." He walked off briskly and Harry rushed to catch up. Dumbledore led him down a few staircases that had stopped moving when the headmaster approached them. "A benefit of being Headmaster," he said to Harry. "The staircases usually lead me to where I want to go."

They finally reached a broad hallway in the depths of the castle. Lanterns shone along the walls, bathing the stone with warm golden light. A very large painting of a bowl of fruit hung on the wall at the end of the hall and Dumbledore reached up and tickled the pear. The painting moved, much like the painting that housed the entrance into Gryffindor Tower.

Harry gasped with delight as he followed the headmaster into the kitchens. The space was enormous. The stones of the floor and the wall and the ceiling were so clean, they gleamed in the lantern light. Four long tables sat in the center of the big room, mirroring the position of the House tables in the Great Hall above. Stoves were lined up against the one wall, running the length of the room. Preparation tables dotted the space and gigantic ovens were sunk into the adjacent wall. Racks and racks of cooking utensils and implements ran the length of the opposite wall and a vast sink system was in the corner. Water moved and brushes and rags danced as things were cleaned and dried and stored away.

"Welcome to the Kitchens of Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, seeing Harry's look of awe and wonder. "And meet the many cooks that provide all of our meals. They are House Elves, magical beings that serve the castle and help take care of us all. They clean and cook and do all sorts of things."

Scores of diminutive figures worked industriously in the kitchens. They were dressed in clean towels folded into togas. When Dumbledore and Harry first appeared, they had greeted them but at Dumbledore's wave, had gone back to work. Large round eyes watched them curiously however, and their large ears flapped and moved with them.

"Inky, are you free?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes Headmaster!" A small House Elf appeared before them. She smoothed dark brown hair back and bobbed her head at Dumbledore and Harry. "How can Inky help?"

"Inky, this is Harry Potter. Mister Potter, this is Inky. She is one of the main Elves here in the kitchen and she always makes sure to give me extra jam and cream for tea time," Dumbledore smiled.

"Headmaster has a terrible sweet tooth," Inky said with a mock-weary smile.

"Quite," Dumbledore chuckled. "Mister Potter used to cook at home and would like to make something."

"Really?" Inky looked at Harry curiously. "Cooking at your age?"

Harry nodded. "I learned when I was little and cooked a lot."

"You are still little," Inky said flatly and shook her head which Harry found odd considering he was taller and bigger than her. "But Inky will help. What does Mister Potter want?"

"I'd like a stove please," Harry said after some thought. "I'd love to make an omelet. I haven't cooked in so long and it's one of my favorite things. Eggs, butter, salt, white pepper if you have it."

"That is easy." Inky led them to a small alcove and she soon had a table waiting with ingredients on it and a stove at the ready. She climbed up a stool and sat on it. "Inky has never seen a wizardling cook before."

"I hope you do not mind an audience," Dumbledore said, sitting on a stool as well.