HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter twenty two-dobby
[Harry's P.O.V]
☟ ☟ ☟
I watch from the doorway, stunned as this, weird creature jumps around on my bed, having the time of its life. The creature has large bat like ears which were incredibly disproportional for his small figure. His eyes were big and green and he wore a dirty pillow case as clothes.
It stops jumping when it notices me, staring at me in awe. "Harry Potter!" He bows slightly. "What an honor it it."
"Who are you?" I question immediately.
"Dobby, sir," the thing replies. "Dobby the house elf."
I turn and shut my door, instinctively lowering my voice as not to get the unwanted attention of Uncle Vernon. "Not to be rude or anything, but this isn't a great time for me to have a house elf in my bedroom."
"Oh! Oh, yes sir," Dobby exclaims, not receiving my hint of wanting him to be quieter. "Dobby understands! It's just that Dobby has come to tell you... It is difficult, sir. Dobby wonders where to begin."
I sigh but obviously grow intrigued at the house elf's words. "Why don't you sit down?" I offer.
Dobby's already massive eyes only grow wider.
"S-sit down?"
He jumps off of my bed and begins to sob. Panicked, I look from him to the door and hope that the wooden door is enough to conceal Dobby's sobs from the Dursley's.
Hurriedly, I approach the elf. "Dobby, shush. I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to offend you or anything."
Dobby momentarily stops his fit, looking up at me with his big green eyes. "Offend Dobby? Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but never has been asked to sit down by a wizard... Like an equal."
I suddenly feel tremendous sympathy for the house elf, to think that I though I had it bad here.
"You can't have met many decent wizards, then."
"No," Dobby replies. "I haven't," a look of panic arises in his face. "That was an awful thing to say."
He walks over to my dresser and without warning bangs his head onto it. "Bad Dobby!"
He scolds himself over and over again.
I rush over to him frantically looking at the door. "Stop. Dobby! Dobby, please! Dobby, please stop. Stop! Dobby! Please, be quiet!" I yell at him in a hushed tone sighing when he finally stops.
"Are you alright?" I ask once he's finally done.
"Dobby had to punish himself, sir. Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir," he says climbing up onto a chair and sitting on his knees so that he reaches my eye level as I sit across from him.
"Your family?"
"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir. Dobby is bound to serve one family forever. If they ever knew Dobby was here," he pauses and shudders. "Ooh! But Dobby had to come. Dobby has to protect Harry Potter, to warn him. Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. There is a plot. A plot to make most terrible things happen."
Despite the obvious issues with this Dobby fellow, his words undoubtedly send shivers up my spine as I think back to the all too vivid memory of Voldemort escaping Hogwarts on the night of the Philosopher's Stone.
"What terrible things?" I ask. "Who's plotting them?"
Dobby gasps. "He!...Can't...Say!" He starts spazzing once again and determined to prevent another fit, I realize that is the best I'm going to get.
"Okay! I understand," I tell him hurriedly. "You can't say. Just be quiet!"
Instead of following my orders, he surely seems to be a rotten house elf, Dobby leaps to my desk, grabs my lamp and begins hitting himself in the head with it.
I groan. "Dobby, put the lamp down.... Give me the lamp!" I try wrestling the lamp away from the house elf but he hold on with dear life, thrashing his head against it repeatedly. My heart drops when I hear stomping up the stairs, stomping I can only detect as Uncle Vernon.
This allows me to summon the strength to yank the lamp out of Dobby's grasp. I grab the house elf harshly by his pillowcase and throw him in my wardrobe.
"Get in there," I demand. "And stay quiet."
I just the wardrobe door at the same time Uncle Vernon opens my bedroom door. He scans the room before shooting me a deathly glare.
"What the devil are you doing up here?" he hisses.
Never being one to be particularly skilled at thinking on the spot, I squirm under his scowl. "I was just-"
I notice, out of the corner of my eye, that Dobby has slowly began peering out of my wardrobe.
I abandon my sentence and shove the door close, luckily Uncle Vernon doesn't notice as he continues to growl at me. "You just ruined the punchline of my Japanese golfer joke." He hisses.
"Sorry," I say pushing the wardrobe closed again.
This time, Uncle Vernon turns his attention to the wardrobe and my stomach twists and turns. If he opens that door and sees Dobby in there, I'm rightfully dead. By some miracle, he shrugs it off, probably itching to return to his dinner.
"One more sound, and you'll wish you'd never been born boy," he threatens. "And fix that door."
As if on cue, the door opens again to which I push it shut a third time. "Yes, sir."
Uncle Vernon huffs, irritated, then slams the door to my bedroom shut. I heave a breath of relief then yank open the door Dobby hides behind.
"You see why I've got to go back? I don't belong here. I belong in your world, at Hogwarts. It's the only place I've got friends."
"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" He inquires.
Ouch.
"Well, I expect they've been-" I stop talking and Dobby's eyes immediately grow wider. "Hang on. How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"
Dobby eyes me fearfully. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby," He begins. "Dobby hoped if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him, Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir."
Dobby pulls a, quite large, stack on envelopes out of his pillowcase-robe. Trying my best to conceal my furiousness, I know that if I do get mad at the house elf, he'll only make a ruckus again.
Instead I lay out my hand and say, through gritted teeth, "Give me those, now."
Dobby remains still for a moment before spinning around without warning and darting for the door. "No!"
I jump, trying to grasp him but he runs out the door, too quick for me. I chase him down the hall to no avail, down the stairs to no avail. I plead him silently not to make a scene. He reaches the entrance to the kitchen and sees Aunt Petunia's cake. He turns around and flashes me the most mysterious grin.
"Dobby!" I exclaim frantically, "Get back here."
All Dobby does is shake his head and snaps his fingers.
The cake levitates off of the plate threateningly and I know that this is not going to be good.
"Dobby, Please, no," I beg.
"Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school," Dobby replies.
"I can't," I protest. Hogwarts is my home."
Dobby gives me a look of sadness. "Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter's own good."
He snaps his finger once more, and the cake begins to float towards the living room. Without having an ounce of a plan, I impulsively shove Dobby out of the way and race after the cake, hoping with all my heart that no one notices, because how in the world would I explain this?
To my horror, the cake floats nearer and nearer to the head of Mrs. Mason. I sneak over quicker, thinking that just maybe I'll be ok because the Mason's face away from me. The Dursley's however face directly at me and their eyes widen as they see Aunt Petunia's masterpiece inches away from ruining the biggest deal Uncle Vernon's ever had in his career. Which he probably figures I'm trying to ruin.
I reach my arms out to grab the cake but just as I've nearly got it, I hear another snap and the cake drops, directly on to Mrs Mason's head.
At this very moment I do, in fact, wish I never was born, as I can't even begin to assume what Vernon will do to me this time.
"I'm so sorry," Uncle Vernon speaks out. "My nephew, he's very disturbed. Meeting strangers upsets him, that's why I kept him upstairs," he lies.
I look over my shoulder to see Dobby smiling widely in success. I scowl at him but he merely lifts his hands, snaps his fingers, and fades away.
Turning back to the mess I've made, I instantly feel terror among making eye contact with my uncle.
Did I mention that I am so done for?
Your P.O.V
"Goodnight, (y/n)," Hermione says, turning off her bedside lamp and putting away her current read, a book on fourth year transfiguration.
"Goodnight Hermione," I reply.
I lay in the darkness for awhile, staring up at the ceiling but unable to fall asleep, I slide out of bed and walk quietly over to the door. I sneak down to the main level of the house and step into the kitchen to fetch myself a glass of water.
"Miss (y/n)!" A voice behind me calls and I glance around the room cautiously at the unrecognizable tone.
Unable to see anything in the darkness, I glance at the clock. Now who could be calling out for me at two o clock in the morning? I grow fearful among the realization that everyone else in the Granger household is asleep.
Deeming myself overtired, I turn back to the faucet to get myself my water. I hear a small cough and whip around quickly, attempting to catch the owner of the cough, but instead spill my water all over the floor.
Frustrated, I grab a towel and crouch down on my hands and knees, wiping up the spill. I glance up to come face to face with a creature I'd never seen before, staring at me with eyes as wide as tennis balls.
I nearly scream but place a hand over my mouth as to not wake up the Granger's
House elf's are harmless creatures, from what Hermione has told me. Although it's hard to assess in the dark, the large ears, the ratty pillowcase as robes, it fits the description.
I sit in silence, trying to process at this ungodly hour why exactly there'd be a house elf calling for me, in Hermione's house at 2 in the morning.
"May I help you?" I whisper.
"Dobby must speak quickly, before his family notices he is not there," the elf, Dobby, replies hurriedly. "But Dobby has wanted to come to meet you, Miss (y/n)."
"Well... hi," I say awkwardly. "But why?"
"Dobby has a mission," the house elf answers.
"What is it?" I ask intrigued.
Dobby sighs. "You must promise Dobby that you will convince Harry Potter not to attend Hogwarts this year."
"What?" I ask. "Why?"
Dobby looks around nervously. "Because, bad things will happen to Harry Potter if he attends, because of the plot."
Confused more than ever, I shake my head at the little elf. Harry not going to Hogwarts? Absolutely not.
But, what plot?
"I'm sorry, Dobby, I can't promise that."
Donny begins sputtering in frustration and walks over to the oven, luckily I remember a very important detail about house elf's that Hermione had told me and I run and scoop him up before he gets the chance to wake the entire household by slamming his head against the oven.
"I'm assuming you can't tell me the plot," I say once he's calmed down, still cradling him like a baby.
Dobby shakes his head.
I sigh. "Well, I'm sorry, Dobby, but Harry's going to Hogwarts."
The house elf jumps out of my arms, but I scoop him back up.
"But, I can promise to protect him there," I say. the house elf looks at me intrigued so I continue. "Everything in my power, I won't let anything bad happen to Harry."
Dobby considers this for a moment.
"Do we have a deal?" I ask.
"Dobby and Miss (y/n) have a deal," he finally agrees.
"Good," I say. "Now get out of here and return to your family."
I begin walking out of the kitchen, turning when I get to the door.
"But Dobby," I begin, turning in hopes the house elf hasn't yet left.
"Yes, Miss."
"Why'd you come to me?"
Dobby snaps his fingers and begins to fade. "Because Dobby knows, you worry for Harry Potter as much as Dobby does."
The moment he's gone, I race up the stairs and into Hermione's room flipping the light switch on.
"What are you doing?" She asks half asleep.
"Wake up," I demand, taking a seat at her desk chair and pulling out a piece of parchment. "We need to talk."
Dear Ron,
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