"I think we'll find out if we keep reading," said Harry, a but amused.
Harry managed not to shout out, but it was a close thing.
"Yes, I can image that being a big surprise that warrant some noise," said Luna.
The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Harry knew instantly that this was what had been watching him out of the garden hedge that morning.
So I was right. It was a house-elf thought Cedric.
"What is it?" asked Harry, turning to look at the two who grew up around things like that, for Harry was sure it was some kind of magical…thing. Neither Cedric nor Luna answered him, having the feeling that it would come up in the book.
As they stared at each other, Harry heard Dudley's voice from the hall.
"May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
The creature slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long thin nose touched the carpet. Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm and leg holes.
Hermione frowned at that – it sounded positively barbaric. Cedric, however, realized that whoever this house-elf belonged too most likely wasn't treated extremely well.
"Er – hello," said Harry nervously.
"Harry Potter!" said the creature, in a high-pitched voice Harry was sure would carry down the stairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir ... Such an honour it is ..."
"I take it that Dobby is the creature's name," said Hermione said.
"Most likely," said Cedric. House-elves usually referred to themselves by their names, instead of using pronouns. It was a bad habit of theirs that he couldn't see being broken – of course, it's not like he ever really tried to break it, either.
"Th-thank you," said Harry, edging along the wall
"Does Dobby freak you out a bit?" Hermione asked.
"Just a bit, at least, for my book self," Harry said.
and sinking into his desk chair, next to Hedwig, who was asleep in her large cage. He wanted to ask, 'What are you?'
"I think it's understandable on why you want to ask that," Hermione said.
but thought it would sound too rude, so instead he said, "Who are you?"
"That's definitely a better thing to ask. Plus, he'll probably tell you what he is as well when he introduces himself, so you'll find out the answer to both of your questions," said Luna.
"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," said the creature.
"House-elf? What's a house-elf?" asked Harry.
"A house-elf is a sort of servant," said Cedric, sort of lying – he didn't think that Hermione would take too kindly to the fact that they were actually more like slaves, even if some people did treat them better than others did. He knew, by the reactions of some of his Muggleborn friends, that most did not take it well to learn that fact, at first. "They're used by wizards to clean houses." He didn't mention that they could also be used for other things as well.
"Oh – really?" said Harry. "Er – I don't want to be rude or any thing, but – this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom."
"That's definitely true," Hermione said – she didn't even want to think of what the Dursleys would do if they found Dobby there.
Aunt Petunia's high, false laugh sounded from the living room. The elf hung his head.
"I think I hurt it's feelings," said Harry, frowning. He hadn't meant to do that.
"Not that I'm not pleased to meet you," said Harry quickly, "but, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"
"Now, that is a good question," said Cedric. He would think that his master sent him, but since Ron was his only real pureblood friend and they didn't have an elf, he couldn't see that being true.
"Oh, yes, sir," said Dobby earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir ... it is difficult, sir ... Dobby wonders where to begin ..."
"Sit down," said Harry politely, pointing at the bed.
Cedric winced. That's not something that's going to be taken very well he thought – he doubted that an elf who hadn't been treated well would take being treated nicely very well.
Harry, who hardly missed anything, saw Cedric's wince, and was about to question him about it, but decided not too. It might have had something to do with the fact that Cedric looked a bit scared when he looked at Hermione – was he anticipating a bad response from her? – that made him not do so.
To his horror, the elf burst into tears – very noisy tears.
"S-sit down!" he wailed. "Never...never ever..."
Harry thought he heard the voices downstairs falter.
"Please tell me they don't hear Dobby," whispered Hermione.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or any thing."
"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard – like an equal –"
Hermione frowned but didn't say anything, knowing that not everyone treated those they paid well.
Harry, trying to say "Shh!" and look comforting at the same time, ushered Dobby back onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll.
Luna quietly sniggered at that, the picture it painted in her head looking rather funny to her.
At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his great eyes fixed on Harry in an expression of watery adoration.
"Looks like Harry here as another admirer," said Cedric, while Harry groaned.
"You can't have met many decent wizards," said Harry, trying to cheer him up.
Cedric feared that it would be the wrong thing to say. The elf might feel that he spoke ill of his family if he agreed to it – Dobby was obviously abused.
Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
"What is he doing?" asked Hermione dangerously. She pinned Cedric with a glare, realizing that he probably wasn't completely straight with her earlier. Cedric shrank away from her, looking at Luna imploringly, begging her to continue reading before Hermione could do anything else.
"Don't – what are you doing?" Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed.
"At least you stop him," Hermione said, still glaring at Cedric. Harry was beginning to feel a little sorry for the guy – he hadn't had it pinned on him, but he could tell that she probably looked rather scary.
"I probably only did it because, one, I don't think it's right, and two, I don't want the Dursleys to here," Harry said.
"That's probably true," Luna said. "I'd hate to see what they did if they did hear."
Hedwig had woken up with a particularly loud screech and was beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage.
"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir ..."
"Why would speaking ill of his 'family' illicit that response. I'm sure other servants complain about the people they work for, and they don't beat themselves up for it," Hermione said. Cedric was wondering if he could hide behind one of the others by now.
"Your family?"
"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir ... Dobby is a house-elf – bound to serve one house and one family for ever ..."
"You know, that doesn't quite sound like he's a servant, Cedric," Harry said, which seemed to fan the flames in Hermione's eyes a bit further. Luna looked a bit amused at the sight of her god-brother being scared of a girl younger than him.
"Do they know you're here?" asked Harry curiously.
Dobby shuddered.
"That's a no," Cedric muttered, hoping that Hermione didn't hear that. Maybe it wasn't quite the right idea to say that they were more servants than slaves, but he knew that she wouldn't quite understand the wizarding world's view…on a lot of things, in fact, and he really didn't want to be the one to tell her everything, especially if she asked questions that he couldn't answer.
"Oh no, sir, no ... Dobby will have to punish himself most griev ously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door"
"Okay, he is not a servant," Hermione seemed to snap this at Cedric. "He's a slave. Now, will you tell me about these house-elves, and why you lied earlier to me."
Cedric swallowed harshly.
"How about after this chapter," he said.
"I'll hold you to it," she said, finally turning her gaze from him. He let out a relieved sigh.
"for this. If they ever knew, sir –"
"He must either be powerful, have been sent there, or his planned punishment is allowing him to be there," said Luna.
"Probably a mixture of the first and second one – I can't see him being sent there, as the Weasley's do not own a house-elf –" "Good," muttered Hermione, as that was a point towards the Weasleys in her mind – "and I don't think Harry knows another wizarding family enough to get elf visits from them. Unless an enemy of his sent him, but I would think their would be some kind of protection against that," Cedric said, having ignored Hermione's muttering – he was also afraid of what she would do if she found out that his family owned an elf.
"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"
"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments ..."
Cedric winced, both because of what was just said and the look Hermione threw him. It was horrible how this elf was treated, and wrong. It might sound a bit hypocritical for him to be thinking that, but considering the fact that the Diggory family elf was treated way better than this elf and that Cedric had always been told to never be mean to the elf by his mother - in truth, his mother was always getting on his father for acting mean to house elves as well. So to find out how bad some families could treat their elves made Cedric think that whatever was going through Hermione's mind was probably right.
"But why don't you leave? Escape?"
"He can't, can he?" said Harry. It seemed that Dobby was just as trapped as he was.
"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free ... Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir ..."
Harry stared.
"And I thought I was hard-done-by staying here for another four weeks," he said. "This makes the Dursleys sound almost human."
"I don't think anything can make the Dursley's human," said Luna.
"I did say 'almost'," Harry said.
"Can't anyone help you? Can't I?"
"That's probably not a good idea, Harry," Hermione said, her voice scathing. "Remember how he was when you simply polite to him?"
Harry winced, as he did indeed remember.
Almost at once, Harry wished he hadn't spoken. Dobby dis solved again into wails of gratitude.
"Please," Harry whispered frantically, "please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything, if they know you're here ..."
"Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby ... Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew ..."
"I think Dobby's falling in love with you even more," said Luna. Harry shuddered.
Harry, who was feeling distinctly hot in the face, said, "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts, that's Hermione,"
"Thanks," Hermione said, losing her disgruntled look as she blushed.
"she –"
But he stopped quickly, because thinking about Hermione was painful.
"Because something's stopping my letters," Hermione said. She was absolutely sure that was the case of why Harry wasn't getting anything from her.
"Harry Potter is humble and modest," said Dobby reverently, his orb-like eyes aglow. "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He Who Must Not Be Named."
"Voldemort?" said Harry.
Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"
"Not even the house-elves like hearing his name," said Harry, shaking his head – it would be hard to break people of that habit. Of course, he kind of forgot that he had already done so with Cedric and Luna – they hadn't flinched or stuttered the name in a long while, though that was mostly through reading it in the book so much and the fact that Hermione was resolute against using it.
"Sorry," said Harry quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it – my friend Ron ..."
"He's going to be painful to think about, too, isn't he?" said Harry.
He stopped again. Thinking about Ron was painful, too.
Dobby leaned towards Harry, his eyes wide as headlamps.
"Dobby heard tell," he said hoarsely, "that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time, just weeks ago ... that Harry Potter escaped yet again."
"His owner knows Harry, then," said Hermione.
"Not necessarily. After all, not only do we not know what the rumors were and what Dumbledore said about them, but he could have heard about it from other house-elves," said Cedric. Hermione looked at him, about to ask how that would be, only to have Harry shake his head lightly as her. She decided to wait until their discussion later before asking her question.
Harry nodded and Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears.
"Ah, sir," he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grub by pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later ... Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."
"What?" Harry said, open mouthed. The others weren't much better, in varying states of shock as well.
"That's an unusual request," said Cedric. "However, it most likely wouldn't work. He kind of has to go to school, and I can tell you right now, what happened with his aunt and uncle last year – having Hagrid go get him – would most likely happen again this year. They probably will not let you not go to the school."
There was a silence broken only by the chink of knives and forks from downstairs and the distant rumble of Uncle Vernon's voice.
"W-what?" Harry stammered. "But I've got to go back – term starts on September the first. It's all that's keeping me going. You don't know what it's like here. I don't belong here. I belong in your world – at Hogwarts."
"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."
"Again?" Harry said, aghast.
"Why?" said Harry in surprise.
"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"
"We need to find out who his master is," Cedric said, seriously.
"Why?" asked Harry.
"Because something like this wouldn't be something said where everyone could hear it. This would be a secret – I get the feeling that Dobby won't be able to completely tell you because it's the kind of thing to keep secret. It's probably why he'll have to iron his hands later – the bond will demand it because he's probably been ordered not to tell anyone anything," he answered. His voice became admiring as he said, "Dobby is definitely a powerful elf if he can fight against the bond for something he believes in."
"What terrible things?" said Harry at once. "Who's plotting them?"
Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head madly against the wall.
"Yeah, he can't tell," said Cedric.
"All right!" cried Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't say, I understand. But why are you warning me?" A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. "Hang on – this hasn't got any thing to do with Vol— sorry – with You Know Who, has it?"
"It probably does," Hermione said. "I mean, he's really the only one who would target you, and, well, if the elf is coming to warn you, it makes sense that he's involved."
"You could just shake or nod," he added hastily, as Dobby's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.
Slowly, Dobby shook his head.
"Not – not He Who Must Not Be Named, sir."
"It's not with him?" Cedric questioned, confused. He kind of agreed with Hermione on the matter.
But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Harry a hint.
"Saying it doesn't is a lie," Hermione said. "He obviously can't tell you who it is – it's probably part of his orders – but that doesn't mean that he can't try and give you some clues, even if they kind of do suck."
"Then how do you know it's a lie?" Harry said.
"Because, Voldemort really is the only one who would go after you. He might have been instructed not to mention that Voldemort is the one after you, or has anything to do with it," Hermione said. "And notice how he says that it doesn't do with his title. We did suspect that it might not be his real name, so, perhaps, he's saying that it has to do with him, but because he's been told not to say that it has to do with him by his title..."
"Then he could actually say that it does, but because I don't know Voldemort by anything but his title, he can't just come right out and say anything about it," Harry said.
"Exactly," Hermione said.
Harry, however, was completely at sea.
"He hasn't got a brother, has he?"
"Oh god, please let that be a no," said Cedric. "Although, there's no guarantee that, if he does have a brother, they would be as evil as he is."
Dobby shook his head, his eyes wider than ever.
"Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of mak ing horrible things happen at Hogwarts," said Harry. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing – you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"
"I do believe that, like you, Dumbledore has achieved acknowledgement by elves as well," said Cedric.
Dobby bowed his head.
"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had."
"Is that what his masters say, or…" Hermione started to ask.
"I think it's a personal opinion, because anyone who is in Voldemort's camp will most likely hate Dumbledore," Cedric explain.
"Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He Who Must Not Be Named at the height of his strength. But sir," Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whis per, "there are powers Dumbledore doesn't ... powers no decent wizard ..."
"Oh no," Cedric said, frowning. "He just spoke ill of his family."
Harry frowned, knowing that Dobby would most likely do something to punish himself because of this.
And before Harry could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp and started beating himself around the head with ear-splitting yelps.
"There's no way to hide that, is there?" Hermione said. Luna's idea of being there was looking better all of the time – after all, with them there, Harry couldn't be locked away in his room.
A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Harry, heart thudding madly, heard Uncle Vernon coming into the hall, calling, "Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!"
"He is no where near little," said Harry – that statement didn't just apply to what they learned in the books, either.
"Quick! In the wardrobe!" hissed Harry, stuffing Dobby in, shut ting the door and flinging himself onto the bed just as the door handle turned.
"I would be mad at you for doing that if I didn't know it was for a good reason," said Hermione.
"What – the – devil – are – you – doing?" said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to Harry's. "You've just ruined the punchline of my Japanese-golfer joke ... one more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy!"
"He does anything to you, and he'll be the one wishing that," Luna said, sounding rather deadly, a change from her usual tone.
He stomped flat-footed from the room.
Shaking, Harry let Dobby out of the wardrobe.
"See what it's like here?" he said. "See why I've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got – well, I think I've got friends."
"You do have friends," Hermione said.
"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" said Dobby slyly.
"How would he know they haven't been writing to you?" asked Hermione.
"He would know because he's probably been taking Harry's letters," said Cedric
"So, I've been worrying about having been a bad friend when, really, it wasn't my fault at all," Hermione said. Cedric noticed that she was angry again, this time, thankfully, not at him, and felt a little sorry for Dobby. He had the feeling that Hermione would be glaring at him if he could, and, based on expierience, he could honestly say that it wasn't a pleasant stare to be under.
"I expect they've just been – hang on," said Harry, frowning. "How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"
"I almost thought you weren't going to catch that," said Luna.
Dobby shuffled his feet.
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby – Dobby did it for the best ..."
"Have you been stopping my letters?"
"Dobby has them here, sir," said the elf. Stepping nimbly out of Harry's reach, he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. Harry could make out Hermione's neat writing, Ron's untidy scrawl and even a scribble that looked as though it was from the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid.
"I wonder why he was stopping my letters," Harry said. "I mean, there is just no purpose to it."
Dobby blinked anxiously up at Harry.
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry ... Dobby hoped ... if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him ... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir ..."
"Actually, all that would have done was make me get angry at you and Ron because I would have thought you didn't write," said Harry. While he was hurt that they hadn't wrote to him, it wasn't really friends that drew him to Hogwarts so much as the fact that he wanted away from his family.
Harry wasn't listening. He made a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumped out of reach.
"Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!"
"He's trying to trap you," Cedric warned. "He's probably trying to tie you into a magical contract, so lying to him wouldn't really work."
"No," said Harry angrily. "Give me my friends' letters!"
"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice," said the elf sadly.
"There is always a choice," Hermione said, even angrier at Dobby – she had a feeling that Dobby was planning on disturbing the Dursleys dinner.
Before Harry could move, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open – and sprinted down the stairs.
Mouth dry, stomach lurching, Harry sprang after him, trying not to make a sound. He jumped the last six stairs, landing cat-like on the hall carpet, looking around for Dobby. From the din ing room he heard Uncle Vernon saying, "... tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason, she's been dying to hear ..."
"Somehow, I doubt that," Hermione said.
Harry ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt his stomach dis appear.
Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, was floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby.
Harry went pale; Dobby obviously didn't care for him that much if he was trying to get him killed.
"No," croaked Harry. "Please ... they'll kill me ..."
"Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school –"
"Dobby ... please ..."
"Say it, sir ..."
"I can't!"
Dobby gave him a tragic look.
"Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter's own good."
"It's not for my own good," Harry said, shaking his head. He wondered what Dobby would have done if he knew that doing what he did was going to get Harry murdered.
The pudding fell to the floor with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished.
There were screams from the dining room and Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen to find Harry, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Aunt Petunia's pudding.
At first, it looked as though Uncle Vernon would manage to gloss the whole thing over ("Just our nephew – very disturbed – meeting strangers upsets him, so we kept him upstairs ...") He shooed the shocked Masons back into the dining room, promised Harry he would flay him to within an inch of his life when the Masons had left, and handed him a mop. Aunt Petunia dug some ice-cream out of the freezer and Harry, still shaking, started scrub bing the kitchen clean.
"Somehow, I don't think he'll be getting a deal now," said Cedric.
Uncle Vernon might still have been able to make his deal –
"You mean he still might have been able to," said Luna, looking surprised.
if it hadn't been for the owl.
"Oh no," Hermione said, suddenly understanding what Dobby had been going for. Cedric and Luna gave Harry looks of pity for what was about to happen, while Harry frowned, knowing that his threats to use magic - which were the only thing really keeping him from being locked in the cupboard, as mentioned in the previous chapter - would no longe work.
Aunt Petunia was just handing round a box of after-dinner mints when a huge barn owl swooped through the dining room window, dropped a letter on Mrs. Mason's head and swooped out again. Mrs Mason screamed like a banshee and ran from the house, shouting about lunatics. Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke.
"Since they have no sense of humor, it's impossible for it to be their idea of a joke," Luna said.
Harry stood in the kitchen, clutching the mop for support as Uncle Vernon advanced on him, a demonic glint in his tiny eyes.
"Oh no," said Harry, knowing that he should have made sure to grab the letter before his uncle, or aunt, did.
"Read it!" he hissed evilly, brandishing the letter the owl had delivered. "Go on – read it!"
Harry took it. It did not contain birthday greetings.
"It's a warning for you," said Luna. "It's not supposed to contain birthday greetings."
Dear Mr Potter,
We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine.
As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).
We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity which risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence, under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.
Enjoy your holidays!
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
Improper Use of Magic Office
Ministry of Magic
Harry looked up from the letter and gulped.
"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," said Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. "Forgot to mention it ... slipped your mind, I dare say ..."
"No, I just knew that you would attempt to hurt me if I did tell you," Harry said bitterly – he wasn't Dobby's biggest fan at the moment, especially if they couldn't make sure that this didn't happen.
He was bearing down on Harry like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. "Well, I've got news for you, boy ... I'm locking you up ... you're never going back to that school ... never ... and if you try and magic yourself out – they'll expel you!"
"Okay, while he would normally be right, being imprisoned against your own will – outside of legal issues – can be considered an emergency, and you can use magic in those type of cases without fear of expulsion," Cedric said. "All, again, your uncle is severely underestimating the wizarding world if he thinks he can get away with keeping you away from the school. Dumbledore would never allow it, and he'd probably send Hagrid again, meaning your uncle would probably end up with a pig's tail this time."
The others let out a brief laugh at the brief image of Vernon with a pig tail ran through their mind, but the way the book was going wasn't something that would really allow for anything happy at the moment.
And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Harry back upstairs.
Uncle Vernon was as bad as his word. The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on Harry's window. He himself fitted the cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Harry out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, he was locked in his room around the clock.
I think your relatives should experience that," Hermione said. "See if they feel inclined to make you experience it after they do."
Luna clearly agreed with Hermione – she was also rather angry herself, as evident of her 'table', which bore the results of that anger.
Three days later, the Dursleys were showing no sign of relenting and Harry couldn't see any way out of his situation.
"Please let someone come, please let someone come," Hermione began to chant under her breath.
He lay on his bed watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window and wondered miserably what was going to happen to him.
What was the good of magicking himself out of his room if Hogwarts would expel him for doing it? Yet life at Privet Drive had reached an all-time low. Now the Dursleys knew they weren't going to wake up as fruitbats, he had lost his only weapon. Dobby might have saved Harry from horrible happenings at Hogwarts, but the way things were going, he'd probably starve to death any way.
"Which, I can honestly say, once Dobby hears that – if you did die – he'd probably feel extremely horrible about, since he caused it," Cedric said.
The cat-flap rattled and Aunt Petunia's hand appeared, pushing a bowl of tinned soup into the room. Harry, whose insides were aching with hunger, jumped off his bed and seized it. The soup was stone cold, but he drank half of it in one gulp. Then he crossed the room to Hedwig's cage and tipped the soggy vegetables at the bottom of the bowl into her empty food tray.
"Even though your starving, you still share some of your food with her," said Hermione, a soft yet sad smile on her face.
She ruffled her feathers and gave him a look of deep disgust.
"Of course," Harry laughed.
"Apparently Hedwig has standards," said Luna.
"It's no good turning your beak up at it, that's all we've got," said Harry grimly.
He put the empty bowl back on the floor next to the cat-flap and lay back down on the bed, somehow even hungrier than he had been before the soup.
"It got your appetite going, so your stomach is demanding more," said Hermione.
Supposing he was still alive in another four weeks, what would happen if he didn't turn up at Hogwarts? Would someone be sent to see why he hadn't come back? Would they be able to make the Dursleys let him go?
"In order, the first question is what the second question asks and of course they would make the Dursleys let you go," said Cedric.
The room was growing dark. Exhausted, stomach rumbling, mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep.
He dreamed that he was on show in a zoo, with a card reading 'UNDERAGED WIZARD' attached to his cage. People goggled through the bars at him as he lay, starving and weak, on a bed of straw. He saw Dobby's face in the crowd and shouted out, asking for help, but Dobby called, "Harry Potter is safe there, sir!" and vanished. Then the Dursleys appeared and Dudley rattled the bars of the cage, laughing at him.
"That is the strangest dream I've ever read about," said Hermione.
"Stop it," Harry muttered, as the rattling pounded in his sore head. "Leave me alone ... cut it out ... I'm trying to sleep ..."
He opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone was goggling through the bars at him: a freckle-faced, red-haired, long-nosed someone.
Ron Weasley was outside Harry's window.
"That's the end of the chapter," said Luna, handing the book to Harry. He flipped the page to the next chapter.
However, before he could begin, Hermione, who remembered that Cedric had promised to answer her previous questions after the book, said, "Wait, Harry."
He looked at her as she turned to Cedric, who had also remembered his promise. He looked at her as well, a bit thankful that Dobby's action had erased some of her anger, so she wasn't looking as if she was going to eviscerate him with a glare anymore.
"So what are house-elves, and please, be truthful this time," said Hermione. Harry closed the book around his finger so that he not only didn't lose his page, but he didn't attempt to read ahead. Plus, he was also curious as to the answer.
"You were right earlier when you said that they were more like slaves," Cedric said. "House-elf are creatures who, because of their love of cleaning, work for wizards and are, more often than not, devoted and loyal to their masters. They take care of domestic cleaning in the houses of their masters, and sometimes can be the only person whoever hears their masters secrets, secrets which they, more often than not, hold on their own, without needing an order not to tell anyone. At least, the most devoted elf is like that – usually, those elves are treated better than Dobby is treated. In fact, I have heard some wizarding families treat a house-elf better than their own children, which usually means that the elf will be so devoted to them that even speaking about that family badly will result in a horrible reaction."
"What about paying them? And sick days?" asked Hermione, sounding slightly horrified at the fact that the wizarding world had slaves.
"Hermione, their slaves – they don't get paid with money. Of course, that doesn't mean that they are not paid in other ways. They have roof over their heads, get told things others to do know, are trusted with tasks that their masters don't trust others with, have a house to clean, food to eat, someone to protect – yes, house-elves take particular pride when they protect their masters – and a bond, which elves usually want – I haven't heard of one who doesn't. As for sick days, they don't really get sick, and they don't want them. Trust me on that."
"How do you know that?" asked Harry.
"Oh, the Diggory's have a house-elf, named Tippy," Luna answered.
Hermione was tempted to ask about the fact that he owned a slave, but what he had said did manage to get through her head, and, while she could see that Dobby wasn't treated well, she got the feeling that Tippy apparently was.
"And why did you lie to me earlier?" she asked.
"Mostly because I knew that you would go off at the time about it, and probably wouldn't listen to anything else I had to say," he said, shrugging. "I was hoping that you would have more time to see how it was before I explained it in more detail. Of course, the fact that Dobby's abused didn't really help what I was hoping for much."
Hermione was silent as she thought about what he said, realizing that it was true. Had he said it straight out when she originally asked, she probably would have gone off and not listen to a single word he said, if she even let him speak. In fact, even once she figured it out herself, she hadn't really been ready to listen to him. In fact, it was only what Dobby did to Harry that made her – as much as she hated to say – glad that he was a slave and had to hurt himself. It was something that made her feel very ashamed of herself.
Noticing that the conversation was now over, Harry opened the book back up, reading to begin reading the next chapter.