Yes, those cute little miracle workers are so popular we just had to have a second House-elves Quiz. Do you remember which elves go with which story?
Want to give Hermione a run for her money in the know-it-all field? Simply play the quiz by commenting on this post with your answers at any time over the weekend. All comments with answers will be screened until the answer sheet is posted on Monday morning EDT. On Monday, all quizzlings with the correct answers will receive a pretty banner to prove their quiz prowess. Ready? Set? Play!
Match the quotes to the story titles without picking the red herring titles:
The Tenant of Lyonesse Hall by lady_rhian WIP
Damned House-Elves! by braye27 aka beffeysue
Survivors by Dyce
The Number Twelve House Elf Detective Agency by gingertart50
A Maid in the Devil's Manor by ms_figg
The Rules of Engagement by GlindaTrisstt (WIP - abandoned?)
A Weekend at Owl Hall by leela_cat
I F***ing Do! by The Hissing Harpies (or access the Hissing Harpies tag for the listing of all the chapters.)
A Thickened Light by mundungus42
Que Sera, Sera by cybrokat
House-Elves: A Brief Story in Letters by TeaRoses
A Pinch of This, A Dash of That by iamstarmom
1. A house elf opened the door, stuck her head out level with Ron's hip and stared up at him.
"Hello Winky," he said cheerfully.
"I is no longer Winky," the elf squeaked. "I is Miss Marple, and I is thanking you to remember that."
"Oh," said Ron, "right. Has Hermione been letting you lot watch her old detective videos again?"
"We has been learning about being proper detectives," Miss Marple assured him as she let him into the hall. "I is leaving you with Kojak. I is doing the filing with Brother Cadfael."
A male elf leaned against the panelling. He wore a little pair of dark grey trousers and a jacket, although the suave effect was rather ruined by the bare feet and the way his sunglasses slid off his face every time his ears twitched. He was sucking on a lollipop. He looked up at Ron, switched the lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other and said, "Who loves ya, baby?" in a muffled squeak.
"Is Hermione in?" he asked.
Kojak's ears swivelled automatically towards Ron, forcing the elf to catch his sunglasses as they fell off completely.
"Miff Hermione iff in..." He removed the lollipop and banished it. "Miss Hermione is in her office, Master Ron. Is I to be taking you up?"
"No, it's fine, you get on with whatever you were doing."
2. Kreacher was waiting for her, standing in the centre of her room. He was wearing a clean pillowcase with a snowy owl embroidered on the shoulder. Regulus's locket gleamed on his chest. His bulbous eyes narrowed menacingly when he saw her, and she instinctively pulled her dressing gown closer.
"The Mu—" Kreacher struggled for a moment to finish the word before saying, "The Granger-witch is wrong. The Granger-witch should not upset Winky with her wrongness."
"What?" Sidling past him, Hermione scrambled into her bed and under the covers. She slid her hand under her pillow and retrieved her wand.
"The Granger-witch does book research about everything except house-elves." Kreacher took a step closer and flexed his spindly fingers. "House-elves are being worth book research, even for the Granger-witch."
"Book research?" Hermione's mind stuttered and then began to race. She ran through everything she remembered reading about house-elves. "I've read books about—"
"The Granger-witch is only reading books written by witches and wizards."
House-elf books? An ache rose in Hermione's chest, a need to find and own every single one of those books, to add them to her collection of scrolls, tablets, and other items written upon by the centaurs, goblins, and other sentient species of the wizarding world. "I didn't know house-elves wrote books," she said.
"House-elves are not illiterate." Kreacher popped onto the bed and stood over her. "House-elves are simply knowing what they want from wizards and witches. House-elves want a home. House-elves want order and to be taking care of things."
3. “You is being the Miss who is letting Lyonesse Hall?” The voice was high, but the tone was almost gruff.
“Yes, I am Hermione. A pleasure to meet you, Pip,” Hermione said, extending her hand. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t take it, but that didn’t stop sadness from settling in the pit of her stomach.
“Why is Miss letting Lyonesse Hall?” Pip asked, arms folded across his chest.
Her eyes widened. “I wanted—” How best to describe it? “—I wanted a change, Pip. I… I left my job at the Ministry of Magic, in London. I wanted to… get away… for a while. And the former master of this house—”
At this, Pip let out a strangled noise.
“Pip? Are you all right?”
Pip looked up at her with a look that could only be called righteous indignation. “Mister Severus is leaving us with no reason. Mister Severus is not wanting us. Mister Severus is leaving Pip an orphan!”
“Pip,” Hermione started, tears springing to her eyes in spite of herself, “Professor Snape—he was my professor, see—he is dead.”
Pip put his head in his hands and wailed.
“Pip—Pip, please don’t cry,” Hermione said, kneeling down on the ground so she was face-level with him. She dared not try to touch him. “I’m here, see, and I want to buy the hall.”
At that, Pip looked at her strangely. “But the Ministry wizard is saying Miss is only letting the hall.”
4. A ruddy-looking and very agitated house-elf named Darren was glaring up at him, arms crossed, impatiently tapping one of his elongated feet.
“Weel you please explain ze meaning of thees?” His skinny little arm flailed sideways, indicating the girl that was currently waiting outside of Snape’s office. “WHY waz I not informed of zis intrusion!”
Darren was not just any house-elf. Formerly from the famed kitchens of Beauxbatons, Darren was Severus Snape’s Sous-Chef, his right-hand elf. Unlike the Hogwarts house-elves, there was nothing whatsoever subservient about Darren, as proven by the display of righteous indignation currently being directed towards the Master Chef of Hogwarts.
Severus drew his hand over his face, trying to stem the headache currently gathering like a storm behind his left eye.
“Darren, I was only just informed of—”
“Of course, eef you haf been un’appy wiz my work, perhaps you would prefer zomeone new?” the uniformed kitchen-elf huffed petulantly.
“Don’t be ridiculous—”
“I am zertain you will be more ‘appy wiz her!”
Severus was on his feet, glaring at the diminutive creature, who was glaring right back at him with a pronounced pout of injury on its pointy-nosed face.
5. Hermione hears her knock echo down what she imagines are endless corridors of stone, but a house-elf opens the door immediately, revealing a warmly lit entryway with a grand staircase curving upward toward a massive iron chandelier. The elf scrutinises the St. Mungo's badge she holds out to him, by way of explaining her presence. They both know it has no real meaning, but he courteously stands aside and gestures for her to enter.
'If Miss will wait here, Batty will be informing the Master.'
'Thank you, Batty.'
'Would Miss like tea?'
Batty disappears with a pop rather than a crack, which is, she supposes, the mark of a posh house-elf. The entry hall is largely empty, but for a large embroidered tapestry hanging on the wall. It bears an uncanny resemblance to the famous one from Bayeux except that its combatants move and brandish wands, and the Latin inscription reads, 'Here is Guillaume Malfoy making it rain fire.'
Her fingers tighten around her wand, and she momentarily considers fleeing, but another elf appears with a steaming cup of tea that smells like heaven. Rumour had it that all the Malfoys have resided in France since the end of the war, but suspecting something is entirely different from encountering it in reality. The tea is, thankfully, as English as it is strong.
Hermione is surprised that she feels as calm as she does standing in the foyer of her mortal enemy's home, and is even more surprised when Batty reappears, announcing that Master Lucius has invited her to breakfast. She takes a fortifying mouthful of tea and follows Batty down the corridor.
6. The old elf let out a snort and tossed her three curls to one side. “The choice between two boys and a man ? That is not a difficult problem for the likes of this young lady to solve.” Hermione felt almost complimented. “Leave us.”
“Now Wubby, we agreed……” But he didn’t get to finish the thought. Wubby snapped her long green fingers and Severus and Tinker disappeared instantly. Perhaps Severus hadn’t been joking about Wubby turning her into something. Hermione looked nervously at the old elf.
“Why is this a difficult decision for you ?” Wubby asked, her tone somewhat softer now that they didn’t have an audience.
“I … um … I hadn’t really planned on marrying so soon.”
“Yes, my Severus told me about the marriage law. He thinks it most unfair.” Wubby’s eyes had softened too, though they were still keeping a careful watch of her.
“He is a good man, my Severus.” Wubby said as she turned and walked back to the sink. Hermione, not knowing what else to do, followed her. Hermione was shocked to see the old elf was washing dishes by hand. Why would a being so powerful choose to do such tedious manual labor ?
“I think so, too.” Hermione said quickly as she realized she had not replied. The old elf placed her hands back into the hot soapy water and turned to look at Hermione who had picked up a towel to dry the already clean dishes. Wubby raised, what would have been and eyebrow on a human, but was just skin on her, at Hermione.
“If you know he is a good man, he can obviously provide for you,” She said indicating the manor. “and is completely besotted with you, what else is there to think about ?”
Hermione almost dropped the platter she had been drying. “ B ….b .. besotted ? The Professor ? With me ?”
“Come now child. You are the first girl my Severus has ever brought to meet me. He wants us to get along or he would have stormed right back down here from his room.”
7. Why on earth did they insist on serving dried beans every Friday night? Severus never – never – ate them. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the taste, he did, but if a little action happened to come his way on a Saturday, he did not want to have to worry about… well, that tell-tale effluvium for which the “musical fruit” were known.
At breakfast Saturday morning, the usual suspects were present for the morning meal, and Severus, as was his wont, had been one of the first to arrive and was nearly finished with his morning meal. Pheeewwwwww… It was such a small sound... but it gave every evidence of becoming one of those SBD’s his father used to subject everyone to. His father’s Silent-But-Deadlies were the stuff of family legend, and at an early age, Severus had made a vow never to partake of said “musical fruit” when he left home for Hogwarts. He would starve first. He quickly ate the last of his toast, washing it down with the last of his tea, and wished his colleagues a good day before exiting the Great Hall.
8. "Loki's tits! And the elves are behind it all? What the fuck do they achieve by getting their disgusting, treacherous little fingers in the pie?"
"Massive elf bragging rights. Plus a bit of pay-back for SPEW…" She sniffed. "Well-named, in hindsight. Right now I want to vomit right down the front of Buggy's 'oh-look-at-me-I'm-so-bollocking-immacul
"And the Goblins? What in the name of Wayland's wanger do they get?"
"They won't spill a fwooping bean. Not even Griphook – and I got him drunk enough to proposition Ron in the toilets at the Cauldron."
9. Severus looked at his cringing servants.
“I have an assignment for you,” he began.
The house elves all raised their heads and looked at him attentively, although a few ears remained flatten in nervous fear that the assignment would be a wicked one, like in the old times.
“It will be a challenge. But you all have always been good elves and followed my instructions to the letter in good time,” he continued.
The house elves visibly swelled at this rare praise from their Master.
“I want the Manor reclaimed,” he said. “The shutters opened, the windows washed and raised so fresh air can permeate these dank, damp halls. Every shutter and every window in the Manor.”
There was no need to have the Manor cleaned. The elves kept it spotless. The small creatures began to smile and jump about in glee. Severus stilled them with a sharp motion of his hands.
“I also want the labs cleaned thoroughly, and every evil instrument of torture removed and destroyed. I want every trace of suffering erased. They are going to be reopened, but this time they will be used for good, not evil. Also all the rooms on that level are to be cleaned, and the furniture replaced,” he continued.
The ears of every single elf were raised in elation, their wide eyes wheeling with joy at their Master’s orders. They had suffered in darkness too, these long, long years and longed for sun-streaked floors and fresh air.
“But,” said Severus, “here is the difficult part. This must be accomplished by Friday morning at the latest. It is a large job to do in a short span of time. Do you think you can accomplish this?”
Answers of “Aye, Master. We can,” rang out from the small creatures surrounding him.
“Then go and reclaim the House of Snape,” Severus said.
10. Winky nodded. "The world is changed very, very much," she said seriously. "Especially this year. Many good things gone, many things changed forever. Winky is glad to have something familiar. Someone who needs taking care of."
Hermione nodded, her throat tightening. "A few months ago, I... lost someone I loved very much," she said quietly. "The only person I've ever been in love with. And there were other friends, who died too. And more who got hurt, and lost parts of themselves." Her voice cracked, and she looked down at the picture, her eyes filling with tears. "It's selfish, I suppose, but I won't let him just... disappear. It's bad enough that people go away when they die, but to die to the world when they're still alive..."
Winky reached over to rest a small hand on Hermione's arm. "Winky knows how it feels, losing people," she said very softly. "Winky is glad that Hermione is stopping Master Snape from losing himself."
Hermione shook her head. "I'd like to, Winky, she said quietly. "But I don't think I can. I want to help, but..." She huffed out a frustrated breath. "People are so difficult to fix," she said ruefully. "If he was a... a clock, or a potion, I could open him up or distil him down to his components, and find out was was wrong and fix him. But I can't. All I can do is... be here. Whether it helps or not. At least he knows he's not forgotten."
" Hermione is helping," Winky said seriously, and then suddenly she grinned. "She gives Master Snape something to think about, and someone to yell at. He is getting up out of his bed again, now, and he is throwing a teacup this morning. Making Hermione go away is good reason for getting better."
Hermione blinked, and then she laughed ruefully. "Well, if it works out that way, I guess that counts as helping." She looked at the baby Severus again, and put the picture down, reaching for a handful of thin silver spoons.