Dobby's behaviour turned strange as the summer went on. Draco watched him whenever he was able to, and he couldn't figure out what the problem was. Sure, he could ask, but Dobby could be sly when needed—something Draco was rather proud of.
When Dobby entered Draco's room with his fingers hidden in a ratty uniform, he knew something needed to change.
"What happened?"
Dobby looked down before slowly extending his hands.
The sight of long fingers bandaged rather clumsily had Draco concerned. He pulled out his potion's kit and crouched to Dobby's height.
"I'm waiting," Draco prompted, wishing that Dobby would just talk to him more.
"I burned Master Malfoy's pre-supper meal."
Draco arched his brows—annoyed that his practice hadn't paid off yet and couldn't master a single brow.
"You have never burned a meal as long as I can remember."
Dobby's chest puffed out in pride before he looked to the ground as Draco began placing a healing salve on his fingers.
"Dobby was distracted."
"Is the reason why something that you are willing to share with me?"
When Dobby looked at him in surprise, Draco's heart clenched painfully.
"Dobby, I wouldn't force you to tell me your secrets. That's not—I'm not—" he closed his eyes as he realized that it wasn't just Muggleborns and Muggles that he needed to open his horizon to. The road to understanding would be a harder path than he originally believed it to be.
"Dobby," Draco tried again as he looked down at his fingers, not strong enough to look up. "You've been the only friendly face I've ever known. I can remember being tiny, alone and so confused. You used to charm my toys to play with me, because I didn't have anyone else. I remember that you would sing to me—horribly—but you only stopped when father almost caught you."
Draco blinked rapidly when large fingers tentatively touched the back of his hands. "Even if you were busy with a dozen unreasonable tasks, you always made time for me. Whether it was a new adventure that you imagined we would one day go on, or if it was gossip from the other house elves. You're my best friend, and I'm only just now realizing how wrong that is."
"Wrong?" Dobby whispered as his hands retreated slightly but were still in touching range.
Draco looked into Dobby's eyes, hating that his vision became blurry. "You're enslaved to the family. There's no free will in anything you do. What I saw as a friendship was nothing more than me taking advantage of your kindness. Every action you take is ordered by wizards. That's not okay, and I've contributed to your fate."
Draco covered his face as the tears began to fall. "I just wanted a friend, and I made you be that for me. I'm so sorry."
"No, Master Draco, no."
When Draco wiped his eyes and looked up, he had to brace himself as Dobby lunged forward, arms wrapping around his neck.
"Dobby is bound to the family, but Dobby is also Master Draco's friend."
That had Draco's shoulders trembling. He wished it was easier to explain, wished that his own feelings weren't so contradictory.
"But if you were free, you wouldn't be. If society had better standards, we never would have met."
Dobby frowned before placing his hands on his hips. "Most house elves don't want change."
That wasn't unheard of, but Draco knew that was associated to hundreds of years of being conditioned to think so.
