Faery Heroes

Chapter 7: Last Minute Errands

Ahhhh... I know the last few chapters have been full of tragedy, angst, and background information. Finally, we have one that is devoted almost entirely to humor in one form or another.

Before we begin, I would like to give special thanks to Paladeus. Not only did he conceive the challenge that made this story possible, but he also recommended it in the latest chapter of his story Death's Pride. Thank you again!

Disclaimer: Was Harry always in a rush to pack and get to King's Cross on September 1, generally due to a certain ginger family? If so, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and anyone else she sold the rights to.
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Teenage boys are notoriously bad at keeping up with their possessions; it is simply a fact of life. Put five of them together in a dorm for a term or two, and it is a catastrophe waiting to happen. Put five of them together in a dorm for a term or two with no adult supervision, and the room does not have to wait to become a disaster; it has already been demolished.

Such was the case with the fourth year Gryffindor boy's room. The floor was covered with clothes they had neglected to put in the hamper for the house-elves to clean; candy wrappers and game pieces, mostly Gobstones and chessmen, were strewn randomly throughout; and each boy would need to ask the others for help finding any articles of clothing they were missing. Even the bed and dresser belonging to Harry, who was obsessively neat compared to his roommates, were total wrecks.

Harry, having walked inside just after nine in the morning, stared in mute horror. After he had to live on his own, he had regained some of the cleaning habits he developed at the Dursleys', though not to the extreme Petunia had taken them. What was normal and acceptable for him at fourteen was far worse than he was willing to deal with at twenty-four, even if only in his head. All I wanted to do was get all my stuff together and have it ready for the elves to take to the train when we leave in a couple of hours, not deal with this! I don't recall everything that belonged to me at this time, and I have other things I would rather use my time for than looking through this entire dorm for my clothing. He moved to his trunk and checked inside for his invisibility cloak – he stuffed that into a space-extended pocket – photo album, and Firebolt. At least my most valuable belongings are where I left them. Now what am I going to do for the rest of my things?

"Master Harry Potter sir needs Dobby's help?"

He spun about, wand sliding into his hand from his sleeve with a wandless summoning charm, and he shoved the tip in between tennis ball-sized eyes, which crossed to keep the business end of the focus in sight. "Dobby, don't scare me like that," he said, quickly withdrawing his wand. "Now, what did you just say?"

The elf shuffled on his feet, still a little upset about making his master unhappy. "Dobby wanted to know if Master Harry Potter sir would like Dobby to help get all of master's things."

"Yes, that would be wonderful. Thanks, Dobby." Dobby regained his normal spirits with Harry's words and clapped his hands. From under beds, behind a dresser, and even inside Ron's trunk, items flew over to them. Another clap had them neatly arranged and in his luggage, which was now standing on its side and waiting to be whisked down to Hogsmeade station.

"Dobby is being done, Master Harry Potter sir. Dobby be leaving now."

"Hold on," Harry said. He had discussed the house elf situation with Hermione and Luna when they had visited the night before, after he and Pomfrey had finished their own plans, and they had asked him nicely (that is, told him to do it or else) to speak with Dobby; he now had a short list of rules that the two beings would have to follow. Speaking of... "How is Winky doing? Is she getting better?"