At dusk, the house-elves bustled back and forth around the long tables in the Hogwarts kitchens, preparing a lavish dinner for the students.
Suddenly, a shrill series of discordant pops rang out from a corner of the kitchen, startling the already frantic house-elves.
Several house-elves nearly flung the food they were carrying from their hands.
The platter of Stewed Potatoes that had nearly fallen froze in midair, as though someone had pressed pause, then returned to the house-elf's hands as if rewinding.
"Sorry, I startled you."
A gentle voice echoed through the kitchen. The house-elves, who had been working themselves into a frenzy, stopped what they were doing and turned toward the source of the voice.
"Mr. Anderson!"
No one knew which house-elf recognized the owner of the voice first and called out Albert's name, but delighted smiles soon appeared on the others' faces as well.
They set aside their work and gathered around, only to notice Hermione and Dobby beside Albert. Their expressions immediately filled with undisguised disgust and revulsion. They all avoided the pair as though they carried some terrible contagious disease.
Even so, two house-elves brought Albert tea and pies.
"Thank you for your hospitality. I won't disturb your work any longer." Albert picked up a pie offered by one of the house-elves and thanked them with a smile before leaving the kitchen with Hermione and Dobby, lest they cause the busy house-elves any more unnecessary trouble.
"They seem to like you. How did you do it? I mean, how did you make them like you?"
Hermione looked at the closed kitchen door, then turned enviously toward Albert, who was holding a pie, curious about the secret behind his popularity.
The difference between how she and Albert had been treated left Hermione inexplicably heartsore. Sometimes, she even