'Nothing like reading a good book in front of gaping doom,' Zane murmured, passing the fireplace. 'So where do they keep their broomsticks, Ralph?'
Ralph shook his head. 'I told you already, I don't know. I just know there isn't a common locker or anything, like the Gryffindors or Ravenclaws. Most of these guys don't trust each other all that much. Everybody has a private closet with a special magical key. Besides, their brooms aren't here now, anyway, are they? They've all got them out at the Quidditch pitch.'
'We aren't here to grab it now,' Zane answered, peering around the common room. 'We're just here to scope out where they might hide them.'
Even in the middle of a spring day, the Slytherin rooms were a pall of shifting green dimness. 'Lumos,' James said, illuminating his wand and holding it aloft. 'This hall goes back to the boys' quarters, right Ralph?'
'Yeah. The girls' rooms are on the other side, up those stairs.'
Zane threaded through the furniture of the common room, aiming for the stairs. 'Panty raid in the Slytherin girls' quarters. I'm on it.'
'Wait,' James said sharply. 'It'll be charmed, you know. No boys are allowed in any of the girls' quarters. You go up there, it'll be sure to set off some sort of alarm.'
Zane stopped, glancing at James, and then turned back to the stairway. 'Drat. They thought of everything, didn't they?'
'Besides,' Ralph said from across the room, 'they're called 'knickers' around here.'
'You say 'potato', I say 'patata'…,' Zane muttered.
'Can we get back to why we're here, after all?' James said as loudly as he dared. 'We're supposed to be looking for ways to get to Tabitha's broom. Even if all we can do is figure out where she keeps it.'
'Believe it or not,' Zane said primly, 'that's what I was thinking of. For all we know, she sleeps with the thing. Even if she doesn't, you can bet she keeps it near enough to guard. That means getting into the girls' quarters, doesn't it?'
James shook his head. 'Not possible. I'm beginning to see how helpful it was for my dad to have Aunt Hermione as part of his crew. He could've sent her up to check things out. We're pretty much stuck, though.'
As James finished speaking, a noise came from the stairway. The three boys froze guiltily, looking toward the stairs. There was a shuffling of small feet, and then a tiny house-elf came down balancing a basket of rumpled clothing on its head. The elf stopped, seeing the three boys staring at it.
'Many pardons, masters,' the elf said, and James could tell by the timbre of its voice that it was a female. 'Just collecting the washing, if you please.' Her bulbous eyes flicked between the three of them. She seemed disconcerted to have elicited such keen interest. James realized she was probably used to being completely ignored, if she was seen at all.
'Not a problem, Miss…' Zane said, affecting a small bow and taking a step back from the stairs.
The elf didn't move. Her eyes followed Zane's movement with increasing consternation. 'Excuse me, master?'
'Your name, Miss?' Zane replied.
'Ah. Er. Figgle, master. I apologize, master. Figgle isn't accustomed to masters and mistresses speaking to her, master.' The elf seemed to be nearly vibrating with nervousness.
'I'm sure that is true, Figgle,' Zane said understandingly. 'You see, I'm a member of an organization you may have heard of. We're called the… uh…' Zane glanced back at James, his eyes wide. James remembered telling Zane and Ralph about Aunt Hermione's equal rights for elves organization.
James stuttered, 'Oh. Yeah, S.P.E.W. The Society for the Promotion of, uh, Elfish Welfare?'
'Yes, what he said,' Zane said, spinning back to Figgle, who flinched. 'S.P.E.W. You've heard of us, no doubt. We help those who elf themselves.'
'Figgle hasn't, master. Not a bit. Figgle has loads of work, master.'
'That's exactly the point, my dear Figgle. We at S.P.E.W. are working to lessen that load. In fact, as an act of good faith, I'd like to help you now. Please, might I help you carry that?'
Figgle looked positively horrified. 'Oh, no, master. Figgle couldn't! Master shouldn't mock Figgle, sir!'
James could see where Zane was heading with this charade, but was doubtful it would get anywhere. House-elves, especially those who worked amongst the Slytherins, were often mistreated and tricked by their masters. Figgle looked as if she was about to burst into tears from fear.
Zane knelt down, bringing himself eye-level to the trembling house-elf on the second step of the stairs. 'Figgle, I'm not going to hurt you or get you into trouble. I promise. I'm not even a Slytherin. I'm a Ravenclaw. You know Ravenclaws?'
'Figgle does, master. Figgle collects the Ravenclaws' wash on Tuesdays and Fridays. Ravenclaws use less scent than Slytherins, master.' The elf was babbling, but she seemed a bit calmer.
'I'd like to help you, Figgle. Surely there is more to carry. May I carry it for you?'
Figgle pressed her lips together very hard, obviously caught on the knife edge between her fear of a mean prank and her duty to do what she was told. Her tennis ball-sized eyes studied Zane, then, finally, she nodded once, quickly.
'Excellent, Figgle. You're a good elf,' Zane said soothingly. 'There is more laundry upstairs, isn't there? I see you're piling it there by the door. I'll gather the rest for you.' He made to step forward onto the stairs.
'Oh, no, master! Wait!' Figgle said, raising her hand. The basket on her head wobbled a bit and she steadied it easily. 'Master will break the boundary. Figgle mustn't let the others see she is being helped.' Figgle jumped lightly down the last two steps and turned toward the stairs. She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. Something changed about the doorway. James would have sworn that something like a light had been turned off, although the actual lighting in the room hadn't changed. 'Now master can go up. But please, master…' Again, Figgle seemed tortured on the edge of fear and obedience. 'Please, master mustn't touch anything but the basket. Then Figgle will take all the wash to the basements. Please?' She seemed to be pleading to get this over with and be gone as soon as possible.
'Of course,' Zane answered, smiling. With only the slightest pause, he put his foot on the first step. Nothing happened. 'I'll be right back, guys,' Zane said over his shoulder, then trotted up the steps.
James let out a pent breath and heard Ralph doing the same. Figgle watched Zane tramp up the stairs, then glanced worriedly back at James and Ralph. Ralph shrugged at her and smiled. It was, James thought, a rather ghastly smile. Figgle didn't seem to notice. She weaved through the furniture, balancing the huge basket easily, and then tipped it onto a large pile near the door.
'James,' Ralph said quietly, 'the map.'
James nodded and opened the Marauder's Map again. He looked first toward the upper right area of the map, where a set of neat drawings illustrated the Quidditch pitch and grandstands. Dozens of names were crammed together there, most in and around the grandstands, but a few swooped around the pitch. The Slytherin practice session was still going on, although there seemed to be fewer people on brooms at the moment. They were probably gathered on the ground nearby, talking strategy or something. He glanced over the names ranged
