Dobby and The Sorting Hat

Kitchen Thoughts

Dobby and the other house elves prepared for dinner that night. It was spaghetti, just like the last date Dobby and Sorting Hat had. That was almost a month ago. It brought tears to his eyes just thinking about it. Sorting Hat hadn't talked to him since. In his yearly song, he sang of the horrors that would come and banding together. He was probably troubled with the thought of Voldemort on the loose. Dobby gave him space.

For the hundredth time, one of the house elves tried to get Winky out of her stupor to help them make dinner. "Winky, you can't drink butterbeer forever! You'll die!" said the house elf in a squeaky voice.

"A house elf has no purpose without a master." Her eyes were bloodshot and dead. Dobby wondered what she would look like if she had a little love in her. Even the ache of missing someone you loved made you have life. It was natural, but she blocked it all out with the butterbeer she so dearly depended on. Dobby hoped she found someone, and soon.

The elves sent the food up and ate a little themselves. Sometimes, Dobby wished he was a normal house elf, wanting to work and not have feelings like he did. The only reason house elves stayed together was to preserve the family line. Dobby wanted something more than that. Maybe it was because he had never known his parents, who died at a young age. Dobby was only told to shut up and do work by his masters. He often thought of breaking free, becoming just like a wizard. The other house elves didn't understand. The values they had were old fashioned and restricted. Dobby just wanted to be free; to love, to hate, to work. If he didn't stay with Sorting Hat, who knew what he was going to do in later years?

And then then there was Harry Potter. His savior. The Boy Who Lived. He loved Harry Potter with all his heart, but Harry wasn't legally allowed to fall in love with Dobby. Dobby wasn't sure if he even wanted to. Despite the laws, Dobby couldn't stop loving Harry Potter, but he also couldn't stop loving the Sorting Hat, despite both of their problems. To Dobby, their problems made them more interesting to be with. He twirled some spaghetti around his spoon and relished the feeling of being in love. It was a privilege not everyone had.

"What do you have to be happy about, Dobby?" Winky's shrill voice called. "There's no purpose here!"

"But Winky, there's love!" A few of the house elves shifted uncomfortably. His new concepts bothered them. Dobby didn't care.

Winky snorted. "What love? House elves aren't supposed to love anything! Who do you love, The Sorting Hat?" The room grew quiet. It was the most Winky had talked in weeks. A dark green blush came to his face.

"So what if I do?" Dobby replied. "At least I'm not heartless like you!" Dobby stormed off to his room, where there was a wardrobe full of socks he could try on. Socks always made him feel better. He felt around for a pair he hadn't worn in a while. All the way in the back, he felt it. They were a rough, stretched out pair. It had tasteful yellow coloring, though Dobby thought at one point they were white. They were the socks Harry Potter got him for Christmas. He breathed in the sweaty smell and slipped them on his feet. This was love. This was what he wanted. Socks from Harry Potter in exchange for love, so much love, it was spilling out his ears. This is what he wanted.

Sorting Hat filled his memory. They'd been in a relationship for three years now. They couldn't just give it up for a wizard. Dobby remembered his harsh words and how Harry Potter wouldn't talk to him like that. How was he going to love both of them?

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Why am I doing this to myself?