What Dobby Sees

What Dobby Sees

"Here you are, Dobby. Fifteen Sickles." The prom and proper woman, Headmistress McGonagoll as the younger humans called her, handed me my monthly pay. I smiled at the money, glad that about the overwhelming improvement in pay from my previous job (I still shiver when I think about Malfoy Manor).

"Dobby thanks you, Missus!" I exclaimed. I inwardly cringed. My English didn't sound as smooth as the woman's. Elvish is MUCH easier to speak in my opinion. But it wasn't like I could just learn how to speak English properly. Nobody was willing to teach a house elf how to speak properly. We're not anybody's time of day.

Headmistress McGonagall chuckled. "Any time, Dobby. Now, I must be off. Hogwarts only partial runs herself. I must help with the rest!" With that, she turned on her heel and scurried away.

I stuck my coins into my sock. Satisfied, I thought about what I should do next. I could talk with Winky, but she didn't always...appreciate my company. I could try to convince the other house elves we were being robbed, but all they did was cry and glare at me.

And then I came to me: Harry Potter! He was always so nice to me! He saved me from the Malfoy Manor, you know. He was very gracious. I always get a little sad when I think about him. I knew his parents, you know. House elves have longer life spans than wizards and witches. His parents were very pleasant. I only saw them once or twice every year, when the old Mr. Malfoy would visit the school. They were always bickering. But the last year I saw them, they were holding hands; obviously in love. You could just tell by looking at them. It was sad Harry Potter wouldn't ever get a chance to see Lily Evans and James Potter be in love.

As I walked to Harry Potter's living quarters (I didn't much like Apparating in Hogwarts; I only did it when I had to), quite a few portraits I used to clean were abandoned. The halls of Hogwarts seemed...empty without the usual chatter of the portraits. Don't get me wrong; the paintings were often times very rude. They often look down on me, being all proper. I never minded though; they were only doing what they'd been taught.

I was relieved to see the pretty lady in the portrait was still outside Harry Potter's living quarters, even if she did look worse for wear.

"Please let me in, Missus." I asked politely, using my best English.

"I'm not supposed to let you in without a password." I saw her waver a bit. I could work with that.

I widened my eyes, giving her my well practiced look of innocence. "Please, Missus? Harry Potter needs Dobby!"

The pretty lady breathed heavily in defeat. "Alright, I suppose I could make an exception for you," her expression turned grim. "My Gryffindors will need all the help they can get. They've had a hard couple of weeks."

I nodded vigorously. "Yes, ma'am. Dobby thanks the pretty lady." I ended with flattery. She giggled a little bit, before swinging open.

I'm not sure what I expected when the door opened. I think it might've been along the lines of a laughter, smiles, and warmth. Hogwarts was had plenty of all three of those. But what I actually saw? Tears streaks on witches' faces, dark circles under the eyes of countless wizards, and the gloomy feeling that war often brought in its wake. And all these sad faces were staring that me, wondering what a house elf was doing in their presence.

I looked around, more than a little frightened. I didn't like all of them staring at me. Not at all. I scanned the room, looking for the dirty mop of black hair that Harry Potter possessed. When I didn't find that, I looked for the blinding red hair that his male friend, Ron, I think, had. I couldn't find that either. I knew what I had to do. I had to venture into the crowd of weeping humans.