Harry Potter: I Cast

The hidden room was filled with row upon row of wooden bunk beds—four beds to a bunk and five bunks lined up against each long wall. I quickly tallied up the numbers in my head. One hundred beds in all, and nestled on every single mattress was the tiny, slumbering form of a house-elf.

They lay curled beneath patchwork quilts in a rainbow of faded colors, each one handmade by the looks of it. A few had what appeared to be beloved trinkets or articles of clothing clutched tight to their chests—a single woolen sock, a tarnished silver thimble, a scrap of bright ribbon.

I surveyed the slumbering elves again, marveling at the way my map had expanded to encompass the hidden dormitory as soon as I entered. Names materialized on the parchment next to each curled up figure—Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak, and a score of others equally peculiar to human ears. Almost as if they were--

The realization dawned on me quickly enough. "Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak!" I said aloud, snapping my fingers. "Those were the names Dumbledore called out at the Welcome Feast."

But I was already turning on my heel, pieces falling into place. I strode back out into the main kitchen and surveyed the four long tables with new understanding. "I'll bet you a barrel of Bertie Botts those are elf names—the ones in charge of sending up each course through apparition! Hah! And here I thought he just insulted us, guess I owe Adrian an apology."

"Oi, can we leave already?" Jarvey's irritable voice cut through my racing thoughts. "This place reeks like a troll's armpit on a hot day. I'm choking on the stench of detergent over here!"

I opened my mouth to retort, but another voice beat me to it.

"Who goes there? What is you doing in the elves' quarters?" The high, squeaky tones were thick with sleep and wary suspicion.

I whirled around. One of the house-elves had woken up and now sat bolt upright in its lower bunk, tennis-ball eyes fixed on Jarvey and me. As if on cue, several more began to stir, their bulbous heads popping up like curious prairie dogs.

"Milly heard voices—"

"—Is someone needing assistance?"

"Students out of bed! Students in the kitchens!"

Within seconds, the dormitory erupted into a what I could only describe as a chaos of squeaks and rustling bedclothes. Elves clambered from their bunks, spindly limbs flailing.

They clustered around us in a tight semi-circle, long fingers twisting the hems of their pillowcase smocks, bare feet shuffling

"I is Tillery, the head elf," squeaked an elf who had stepped to the forefront of the group, one knobby-kneed leg thrust forward in a passable imitation of a courtly bow. "How may we serve, young master?"

"Erm, hello," I said, feeling suddenly wrong-footed. Jarvey's presence on my shoulder was a small comfort—it kept me from fidgeting too obviously. "I'm Felix. Felix Serendipity. I was hoping to ask some questions about how you lot manage to apparate inside the castle? Seeing as it's supposed to be impossible, according to Hogwarts: A History."

A murmur rippled through the assembled elves.

"Mister Felix is wanting to know elf magic?"

"Why is you asking, sir? House-elf magic is being very different from wizard magic..."

They conferred amongst themselves in hurried whispers, shooting me frightened, sidelong glances. I caught snatches of words like "ministry" and "clothes" and fought the urge to sigh.

"I'm just curious, is all," I said, raising my hands in a placating gesture. "I've been thinking about apparition, you see, and I wanted to know how someone could circumvent them. Then I realized you lot pop about the place at will, and I thought, well, maybe they can explain it better than any dusty old book..."

My little speech had the desired effect, acting Felix for the win. The elves stopped muttering and turned to face me directly, their bat-like ears perked with interest.

Tillery took another shuffling half-step forward and inclined his head.

"We is happy to help Mister Felix however we can," he said. "If sir is really wanting elf apparition explained, Tillery will do his best."

"That would be brilliant, thank you," I said, feeling a rush of excitement. Jarvey made a small scoffing noise in my ear, but I ignored him. "All right then. Could you perhaps give me a demonstration? From one end of the dorm to the other?"

Tillery nodded so hard his ears flapped. "Of course, sir! Tillery will show you. You is watching very closely now."

Before I could brace myself, he reached up to grasp my hand with his long, twiggy fingers. His touch was surprisingly cool and dry, his skin smoother than I'd expected. I felt the telltale compression of apparition magic building around us, and then—

CRACK.

At first, it seemed to mirror what I'd felt the few times I'd apparated alongside Dumbledore or my mom, the inking blot forming inside of Tillery. But the instant we winked out of existence, Tillery's magic changed, unfurling with startling speed.

Magic spread out of him, kind of like how my I Cast magic worked, but I immediately knew it was different in some way, I didn't know how yet but I was going to figure it out.

No sooner had those questing threads brushed the stone walls than we popped back into being at the dormitory's far end, the magic rushing back into Tillery. I staggered a step, disoriented by the abrupt relocation.

Tillery didn't seem to notice my graceless lurching. His bulbous eyes were fixed on the rest of the kitchen staff, who had descended upon Jarvey in a frenzy of tidying.

They swept up his shed fur, polished his claws, and dabbed at imagined stains on his coat. My familiar's outraged yowls, punctuated by the elves' squeaked apologies, echoed off the high ceiling.

Putting the commotion from my mind, I turned back to Tillery. "Can you apparate us again? I'd like to concentrate on the feel of your magic moving through the castle wards."

He bobbed his head. "Of course, Mister Felix sir! Tillery is happy to demonstrate as much as you needs!"

I took his hand once more, and with another loud CRACK, we squeezed through the strange in-between space only to reappear at our starting point. This time, I replayed my past experiences with apparition. 

The rough yank and twist of accompanying Dumbledore, my own Misty Step streaming above the wards' surface like a skipped stone, and this—the elves' power flowing through Hogwarts' protections as easily as light through glass.

"Again please," I murmured.

For the next hours, we flashed back and forth across the chamber, instantenous, teleportation yet each one I could think of as an eternity, over, over and over. With each trip, I felt the differences between the three modes of transport more keenly.

Wizard apparition, it seemed, was almost entirely self-contained, just like all other wizard magic—a wizard pulled their magic into themselves, then used it to propel their body from one point to another.

Bypassing wards would probably require overpowering them head-on, like a Bludger trying to smash through a Shield Charm, the only people who maybe could do so would be Dumbeldore but even that seemed a stretch, a very big stretch.

My Misty Step, by contrast, used my magic to skim above the wards' surface. Basically as my magic moved out of me, it could phase or bypass the wards, how? I had yet to figure that out.

But house-elf apparition, I now realized, actually moved through the wards themselves. It was like they were part of the castle's itself, that was how their magic moved out of them, they used the wards. 

House elves, fed on the castle's magic and were able to move through the magic of Hogwarts just as easily.

Finally, feeling I'd gleaned all I could, I signaled Tillery to stop. "Thank you," I said, grabbing my temple from the barrage of near-instantaneous journeys, again how I hadn't got used to my head hurting I still didn't know. "You've been incredibly helpful."

Extracting Jarvey from the over-attentive elves, now trying to polish his whiskers, I shooed them away. "All right, thank you, but please hand him over. He's as clean as he'll ever be, believe me."

With much bowing and squeaking, they released my bristling familiar. He leapt to my shoulder, back arched like a Halloween cat. "Bloody menaces!" he hissed, fur standing on end. "Touching me with their prying little fingers—I ought to bite the lot of them!"

"Oh hush," I scolded. "They were just trying to help." Shooting an apologetic smile at Tillery, I dug in my enchanted wallet and withdrew a Jarvey Radio. The metal gleamed dully in the low light.

"Here. Please accept this, as a token of my appreciation." I held the device out to him.

Tillery froze, then stumbled back a step. "Oh no, sir! Tillery couldn't—Tillery mustn't—Tis too fine a gift for a house elf!"

Looking at the scared look in his eyes, I immediately realized why we didn't have a house elf of our own, one of the main reasons was because dad was a muggle but mom had also said, she hated how house elves acted.

Looking at Tillery I could see why, after all I had also read about house elves, they saw any gift as punishment always put themselves down, it was honestly horrible to watch, but this is how they are, this is all they have ever known and probably all they ever will know. I held his bulging gaze, recognizing a way I could get him to accept the radio. 

"Tillery. You've done me a great service tonight, sharing your magic. I want you to have this." Slowly, giving him time to refuse, I reached out and closed his long fingers around the radio's casing. "Please. It would disappoint me greatly if you didn't accept."

His drooping bat ears perked up slightly. "Truly, Mister Felix? You...would be disappointed if Tillery didn't have it? "

"Absolutely."

A beatific smile spread across Tillery's wrinkled face. He cradled the little radio to his chest as if it were his most cherished possession. Perhaps, I thought with a pang, it was.

"Then Tillery accepts, sir! Tillery will treasure this forever and ever!"

I rose and dusted off my knees. Bidding the elves goodnight (and threatening Jarvey with a Silencio if he didn't quit his grumbling), I slipped out, the hidden door sealing seamlessly behind me.

One more radio went on the kitchen ceiling, courtesy of a quick 'I Cast Fly'. Then, buoyant with the success of the night's escapades, I hurried out of the basement.

- Flashback ends-

Consulting my watch as I went. 8:58. Damn. I had to be quick or I would be late to charms.

I picked up speed, robes flapping, but just as I reached the landing of the second floor, a deep, silken voice froze me in my tracks.

"Mr. Serendipity. Stop right there."

I turned slowly on the spot. Billowing black robes. Yellowing teeth bared in a sneer. A great hooked nose that seemed to stab towards me like an accusing finger. 

Snape.