This was the first time Severus Snape was venturing so far from home.
That evening, back in his dormitory, he frantically stuffed everything he thought might be useful into the small bag Pandora had given him as a Christmas gift.
After pilfering some of Pandora's experimental half-finished potions from the Room of Requirement and leaving her a note, Snape decided to head to the kitchens for some food.
He walked back along the corridor, descending to the ground floor and entering the entrance hall via the marble staircase.
At the foot of the stairs, the door to the left led to the Hufflepuff common room.
Snape pushed it open and, under the glow of low-hanging torches, stepped into a wide, brightly lit stone corridor.
It was a stark contrast to the dim, eerie, sunless underground passage of the Slytherin dungeons.
The corridor was adorned with cheerful paintings of colorful, appetizing dishes, and even the torches were intricately carved with badger motifs.
At the far end of the corridor, a cluster of wooden barrels was stacked in a corner. That was the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.
Snape had no intention of going there, though. He'd heard stories of people trying to sneak inside, only to tap the wrong barrel and end up drenched in vinegar.
According to Hogwarts' history, it had been nearly a thousand years since a non-Hufflepuff had set foot inside.
"Here we are," Snape muttered under his breath, stopping in front of a painting. It depicted a large silver bowl brimming with fruit.
He reached out with his index finger and lightly tickled the bright green pear in the painting.
The pear wriggled, giggling softly, and in the blink of an eye, it transformed into a green door handle.
Snape grasped the handle, pulled the door open, and stepped inside.
The room before him was vast, with a high ceiling and an area as large as the Great Hall above. Along the stone walls, gleaming copper pots and pans were neatly stacked. At the far end, a large brick fireplace roared with a lively fire.
The moment he entered, the bustling kitchen fell silent.
A group of house-elves, some stirring thick soup in pots, others kneading dough, paused their work. They turned, their tennis-ball-sized eyes fixed on Snape in unison.
Before he could take in his surroundings, a small figure dropped a large iron pot with a loud clatter and rushed toward him from the center of the room.
"Good evening, sir!" chirped a house-elf wrapped in a tea towel emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest. She bowed deeply, performing a curtsey, her voice high and shrill. "What can Mipple do for you, sir?"
Startled by her enthusiasm, Snape took a small step back, composing himself before replying, "Er… I'd like some food. Something that keeps well."
"Of course, sir!" Mipple squeaked, her bat-like ears flapping excitedly. "We can prepare anything for you, sir, anything at all! Please, sit! Mipple will get your food ready!"
With that, Mipple cautiously tugged at the hem of Snape's robes, guiding him to a table and gesturing for him to sit.
The kitchen held four long wooden tables, identical to those in the Great Hall above, one for each house.
Snape mused that the house-elves must prepare the feasts here, then use their unique magic to transport the food to the corresponding tables in the Great Hall.
The surrounding house-elves, all dressed in matching uniforms, beamed at him, bowing and curtsying repeatedly.
"Would you like a cup of tea, sir?" another house-elf called out in a high-pitched voice, straining to be heard over the clatter of food preparation.
"Er—yes, alright," Snape replied.
No sooner had he spoken than six house-elves scurried up from behind, carrying a large silver tray. On it sat a steaming teapot, an empty cup, a jug of milk, and a generous plate of biscuits.
"Thank you!" Snape stood, giving a slight bow of gratitude.
To his surprise, the house-elves' eyes welled up with tears, their expressions overwhelmed with emotion. "Oh, sir! You don't need to say that!" they exclaimed, covering their mouths and bowing low before retreating.
Snape sat back down, picking up a book from the table to occupy himself while he waited.
It was an old, yellowed copy of House-Elf Recipes, filled with creative dishes from Hogwarts' staff and students, some even named by Hufflepuff's founder, Helga Hufflepuff herself.
A short while later, Mipple returned, leading a group of elves carrying several large wooden boxes.
"Sir, we have cream cakes, pies, dried beef, roast suckling pig, pork chops, lamb chops, and sausages. Mipple has used elf magic to make them last a long time, sir!"
"Thank you so much!" Snape said to the elves, tucking the boxes into his bag.
As he effortlessly stowed the large boxes, Mipple let out a sudden squeal.
Startled, Snape watched as she dashed to the baking area, bent down, and picked up several bottles of wine.
"Sir, this is Mipple's homemade wine! Would you like some?" she asked, her eyes wide with hope.
"Oh, thank you, Mipple. That's very kind," Snape said, though he promptly took the bottles from her and slipped them into his bag.
The house-elves continued to bow and curtsey, escorting Snape to the door, bidding him goodnight and inviting him to return.
As he reached for the door, a sudden thought of Dobby crossed his mind. He turned and asked, "Do you know Dobby? He's a house-elf too."
"Dobby!" Mipple's enormous brown eyes sparkled, and she squeaked with delight. "Sir, you know Dobby?"
"I think so," Snape said hesitantly. Though, of course, Dobby wouldn't know him now.
"Mipple knows Dobby, sir!" the elf said cheerfully. "Mipple used to serve the Flint family, and I saw Dobby often then!"
"But Mipple hasn't seen Dobby in so long," she added, her large ears drooping. "Mipple made a mistake and was cast out of the Flint household. Mipple is a bad elf!"
"Mipple broke Master Flint's vase!" she cried, moving to bang her head on the wooden table. "Mipple was freed! Bad Mipple! Bad Mipple!"
Snape quickly caught her, holding her gently but firmly. "I order you not to harm yourself! As a Hogwarts student, you must obey me. Sit down, Mipple!"
Mipple let out a choked sob, obediently sitting on a stool, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Thank you, sir! No wizard except Dumbledore has ever told Mipple to sit…"
"There, there, Mipple. Take care of yourself," Snape said, giving her shoulder a gentle pat. "I'm Severus Snape. If you ever need anything, come find me. It's getting late, so I must go. Perhaps I'll bring Dobby to visit you sometime. Goodnight!"
"Goodnight, sir!" Mipple sniffled.
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