Hermione had swiftly disregarded whatever inclination to musing about returning to Hogwarts she might have had and focused instead on Flitwick and his unusual behaviour. She surveyed the Entrance Hall critically, on the lookout for things amiss. The wee professor seemed more at ease with the doors shut, but he also did not take them to his office which was the most logical place to speak privately. If something had happened here, he might still be spooked. They could never rule out Ministry interference, so it was possible parts of the castle had magic listening devices. (It was also possible that Hermione was approaching the threshold of paranoia.)
But there was one place few wizards would even think of, and even fewer would expect visitors. "The kitchen," said Hermione decisively. Then she blinked once or twice and looked a bit sheepish. "I want to see how the house-elves are coping with independence. It's been four years since Dobby's Law, and- well. I'm a bit peckish."