Rory Potter, the Girl Who Lived

The Chamber of Secrets: The House Elf

          "Yes, Moony, I know!" I hollar from upstairs. "You've been telling me for weeks!"
          "I'm just making sure you've got everything together, because you won't be here for the rest of the summer. Which means you won't be able to get anything you forget," Moony yells back. 
          We're not really yelling at each other. Only because he's downstairs and I'm upstairs are we shouting. I'm packing my trunk to go to the Weasleys for the rest of the summer: they're bringing me to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters to get to Hogwarts. And I must say, packing is stressful.
          I pick up my sleeping cat, Ivy, who has grown into the most beautiful young tabby. She has brown fur as soft as silk and big, beautiful blue eyes. She groans a few words of protest in my mind through the telepathic link my necklace creates, but she curls up in her basket anyways.
          "Rory! Come down here a moment!" Moony calls.
          "Coming, one second," I reply, throwing my shoes into my trunk. I run downstairs to see Moony waiting for me in the family room. He holds up a letter.
          "I just got a letter from the Weasley's, they're coming at noon rather than three o'clock. You've got to hurry; we have an hour."
          "Okay, I'll be ready. All I've got to do is get my broom and my books, then I'll be good," I say, running back upstairs. I go to collapse onto my bed, but I find there's already someone in it.
          I let out a squeak and press a hand to my mouth to keep from screaming. The little creature on the bed has large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. It's wearing an old pillowcase with rips for its arms and legs. The creature slips off the bed and bows so low that its nose touches the ground. I realize that it's a house-elf.
          "Umm . . . hello," I say nervously.
          "Rory Potter!" says the creature in a high-pitched voice. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, miss . . . Such an honour it is . . . I has met your brother already, miss . . . "
          "You've met my brother?" I ask him, then shake my head to clear it. "Pleased to meet you, Dobby. Here, have a seat."
          The elf bursts into tears. I gasp and put a hand on the little elf's shoulder.
          "Y-you and your b-b-brother are such great witches and wizards, n-never has D-D-Dobby been asked to s-sit down by a wizard!" he wails. I usher Dobby to sit on the bed, where he hiccoughs loudly. He fixes his eyes on me with watery adoration.
          "Are you alright?" I ask carefully.
          "You and your brother, miss, are very kind to Dobby. You treat me like an equal, miss," Dobby says. 
         "Dobby, does the family you serve know you're here? Did they send you?" I ask. Dobby shakes his head sadly, squeaking, "No, miss, they doesn't know Dobby is here, miss. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this, miss. But Dobby had to come. Dobby has to warn Miss Potter. Rory Potter mustn't go back to Hogwarts."
          "But why? I belong at Hogwarts!" I object.
          "There is a plot, Rory Potter, a plot to make dangerous things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Rory Potter mustn't out herself in peril, no, you are too important, miss."
         "But Hogwarts is the safest place for me! Dumbledore is there, and he is a great wizard. He won't let anything dangerous into the school," I say, but I seriously doubt that. After all, he let the Sorcerer's Stone in last year.
          "Professor Dumbledore is a great wizard, the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. But not even Albums Dumbledore will be able to protect Rory Potter from the dangers that await her."
          "What awaits me then, that's so dangerous? Why should I trust you?" I ask Dobby.
          "Dobby cannot tell, miss, Dobby can only warn Miss Potter not to go back to Hogwarts."
          "But Hogwarts is my home," I say. "That's where all my friends will be."
          "Friends who do not write to Rory Potter?" Dobby asks slyly.
          "Friends who do not write to me - " I echo, then become suspicious. "Wait a moment, how did you know my friends hadn't been writing to me?"
          "Miss Potter mustn't be angry at Dobby, it was for the best. Dobby thought that if Miss Potter believed her friends didn't like her anymore, then she would not go back to Hogwarts . . . " Dobby says guiltily, pulling out a wad of letters. Addressed in the handwriting of Hermione, Ron, Luna, and even Hagrid. But not Harry. I snatch at them.
          "Give them here, Dobby!" I snap, lunging for them again. He darts from my room, a look of terror on his face. He's scared of me when I'm angry. The list lengthens by another person.
          "Rory Potter must promise not to go back to Hogwarts," Dobby says, running down the hall towards the stairs.
          "No! I can't, Moony'd make me anyhow," I say, snatching at the letters.
          "Promise!"
          "No!"
          "Rory Potter must!"
          "I can't!" I cry, throwing myself at the house-elf. Unfortunately, we're at the top of the stairs, so we both go tumbling down. I scream and flail, but manage to grab the letters. When I reach the bottom, Dobby has dissapeared.
          "Rory! I heard a crash, are you alright!?" a voice says quickly, and Mooony runs into sight, followed quickly by Mrs Weasley.
          "Ow," I manage to groan, rolling over.
          "Whatever happened, dear?" Mrs Weasley demands. "Are you hurt? You didn't break anything, did you?"
          "I fell," I moan, sitting up, "but okay. Bruised, but in one piece."
          "Are you ready to go?" Moony asks. I nod and he dissapears to get my things. Mrs Weasley frets over me, but after a moment, Moony appears again with my trunk and Ivy. I grab the cat Mrs Weasley's arm, and Mrs Weasley grabs my trunk. We apparate to the Burrow.
          "Rory!" Ron yells, throwing himself at me. I hug him, but let out a hiss of pain. He pulls away, gasping, "Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? Why haven't you responded to any of my letters all summer? Have you heard from Harry? He hasn't responded either - "
          "Give me a moment, Ron," I say, wincing as I move my shoulder in a particular position. "I guess I'm okay, and hurt at the same time. I just fell down a flight of stairs. I haven't heard from Harry but I'll explain why in private later, maybe we can get the twins can help us . . . "
          "Fred would do anything you asked him to, even if you told him to go in the lake on Christmas Eve."