In the morning, she strode back to the kitchens. The elves looked up from their washing. Remmy almost rolled her eyes.

"Miss is hungry?"

"No, thank you." She smiled. "I was just hoping for a cup of tea?"

Plumb jumped off of her stool wringing her hands. "Miss calls for Plumb? Plumb did not hear!"

"No, no. I didn't call." She waved her hands, hoping to keep Plumb from banging the kettle over her head. "I was just going to visit, and ask for you to make it here."

Where I can watch you.

Plumb leapt to work, setting a fire under the kettle.

"I'll just grab the sugar for you," she said, starting for the shelves. Wrenching the cabinets open, she searched for potion vials kept in handy locations for pouring into tea.

"Miss not like how Plumb makes?"

She turned to see a watery-eyed forty-six-year-old elf clasping her hands together.

"Er, no. I was just going to help you!" She opened another cabinet, finding nothing incriminating.

"Miss wants sugar? Not honey spoons?"

Her hands froze. The honey.

She turned to Plumb. Remmy stood right behind her with a shrewd twist to her lips.

"I was thinking I might not have honey any longer," she tested, watching Remmy's expression. If they were instructed to give her honey, laced with the suppressant, then they might panic.

"Miss hates honey?!" A tear fell down Plumb's trembling cheeks. "But Plumb is giving Miss honey for weeks!"

Hermione's eyes widened, unprepared for house-elf dramatics. "No! No, I like honey. I like it very much!"

Two more tears dropped from Plumb's violet eyes. "I makes honey tea for Miss and for Master Draco. Does Master Draco hate it too?"

Hermione frowned. Draco. Yes. The suppressant wouldn't be in the honey. Unless there was a special jar just for her...

"Might you have a different honey?" Hermione asked, mind working.

"THE HONEY IS GONE BAD?"

Remmy huffed and stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Plumb's heaving shoulder. "We has one honey. Plumb is giving three honey spoons to Miss and Master Draco. Does Miss want different?"

Plumb was now sobbing uncontrollably into her hands. Guilt sank heavily in Hermione's stomach. She just couldn't win. She knelt down in front of the violet-eyed elf and gently pulled her waxy hands away from her blubbering face.

"Plumb? I would very much like a cup of tea with three honey spoons. Might you be able to help me with that?"

Plumb nodded so violently, her little ears flopped into Hermione's face. She ran for the kettle, and Hermione turned to a frowning Remmy.

"Has there been any news on Master Dra— er, on Draco? Any word on when they are returning?"

The frown melted off Remmy's face, and she too began to tremble with unshed tears. "No. Master Draco is very hurt."

Hermione swallowed, feeling her pulse in her ears. "What happened? Did they say?"

"No," Remmy said sadly, shaking her head. "We is just hearing from this." She gestured to the short counter, where Hermione was shocked to find a Daily Prophet.