Reading Time: 130 Minutes

Title: A Puckish Turn of Fate
Author: MeyariMcFarland
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Family, Fantasy, Humor, Kid!fic, Paranormal/Supernatural
Relationship(s): Gen, background pairings
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: major character death, slavery (canon–house elves), Violence-Against Children (canon)
Author Note: House Elf point of view, House Elf grammar (lots)
Beta: Batspit
Word Count: 60,740
Summary: It was being a Very Not Good Thing that Winky had to save Old Master Crouch’s seat for the silly World Cup instead of taking care of Young Master Crouch. She was being a Good Elf, so she was Doing As She Was told. Until Dobby’s Great Harry Potter was admitting that he was not knowing about the Old Bond to Dobby. That was not being right. Not at all. Winky was going to have to fix it, one way or the other.
Artist: Mizu Sage

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1. To Save a Seat

Winky was being hunched into Old Master Crouch’s seat, hands firmly pressed over her eyes.

Horrifying. The whole stadium was being horrifying. All high up in the air on stilts with wind blowing everywhere and no good solid walls to keep a poor house elf safe. Dusty seats that no one was cleaning, already were getting covered with sticky spills from food. Winky was wanting to clean and clean and clean, but she couldn’t.

Old Master had given her an order so Winky would be following that order, no matter how much she was hating it. Old Master wanted this seat, this one in particular, so Winky would be sitting in it until Old Master showed up with his Very Special friends.

Very rich friends who was liking to throw their money around like it was leprechaun gold instead of hard-earned reward of generations of family’s work. New rich masters were being the worst with gold. No sense at all, just spewing money everywhere instead of making alliances and trading favors the way it should be being done.

Winky was not grumbling that, not out loud or even in the Elf Stream that let all Elves talk to each other. Winky was a good elf. She was not complaining about masters, no matter what.

Tippy in Hogwarts snickered about that as she scrubbed the toilets in Myrtle’s bathroom. Such a good order, that one. Always dirty and never clean, cycling through lots and lots of magic so it went all clean and healthy instead of dingy-dusty-sick.

Winky had not been wanting to let her little girl Tippy go when she grew up, but it was all turning out all right. Tippy was having a good place at Hogwarts and lots of lovely young magic to clean and shape and feed back to the children properly.

The magic of the Elf Stream swirled between them, making here and there turn into the same place. Before and Later was being mixed to be Now, too, but that was always taking lots of magic to really mix Before, Now and Later. Few could be doing that anymore without silly little time turners. Better to ask house elves now to talk to house elves when the master wanted to be. Share the now and the master could step to where he needed to be.

But no. Not anymore. Masters were not remembering that house elves could do that.

Tippy sighed and leaned against Winky’s side for a moment. Winky didn’t drop her hands, not even to admire Tippy’s very good work on the icky toilet, but sharing a bit of magic with her little girl was always nice, nice, nice.

They both flinched as three young people, Hogwarts’ children, pounded up the stairs so fast that the whole stadium shuddered with their paces. Winky knew, she really did, that three young people not even all the way grown up were not being enough to make the stilts supporting the stadium shatter and collapse underneath her.

That didn’t change her whimper of terror at the way the box shuddered around her.

Tippy disappeared back into her work, leaving Winky to whine and curl into a ball in Old Master Crouch’s seat. All alone in the big open stadium with the huge, terrifying drop in front of her.

“Oh,” one of the boys said. “What’s she doing here?”

“Huh?” the other boy said. “Oh, that’s Mister Crouch’s elf. Winky, I think? Probably has her saving his seat for him.”

“Um,” the first boy said very gently from far too close, “are you all right?”

Winky peeked and then gasped at the sheen of willful Dobby’s magic all over the boy. “You is Dobby’s Great Harry Potter.”

Harry Potter blinked at her, suspicion flashing before he pasted on a very poor approximation of a smile. “Uh, yeah, that’s me. Are you all right?”

That was not good. Young Masters was not supposed to being that wary. It said very bad things about the house he was living in until now. If Winky were a master, she would be making sure that the Great Harry Potter lived in a completely different house. With plenty of food and much better clothes and hugs.

The poor boy looked like he was needing all the hugs. None of which Winky said, of course.

Instead, Winky bit her lip before peering past him towards the railing. She whined and hid behind her hands again. If she couldn’t be seeing the drop then she wasn’t being afraid of the drop. The huge, horrifying, thousand and seven times taller than Winky drop that would make her go splat if a Master threw her over the railing in a fit of rage.

A proper elf didn’t pop themself to safety if a Master did that. It was all but a direct order to die from a master, not that Winky thought Old Master Crouch would do that. Young Master might, since he’d changed so much. Not when he was a young boy, a good boy, but now? Yes. Young Master would be throwing Winky over in an instant if it pleased his nasty Dark Lord.

“Is very high,” Winky said when the Great Harry Potter didn’t move to join his Weasley friend and the pretty young New Blood girl with frizzy hair that needed so much brushing, yes, so much brushing and proper care to stop frizzing. “Winky is not good with heights.”

“Oh,” the Great Harry Potter said. He looked over the railing, then looked at Winky, and then winced. “Yeah, I bet its even higher for you than it is for me. You could, I don’t know, pop away if you fell, right?”

“Winky could,” Winky agreed, peeking at him again. She squeaked in surprise when he sat next to her, close enough for her to lean against him and feel the wonderful Old Bond magic swirling around him. “If Master didn’t throw her over. If Winky was just falling, would be fine. Not that Winky would. Winky is not liking heights. She is not going near the edge unless ordered to.”

“Throw–?” the pretty New Blood girl spluttered. “That’s–!”

“Is not common,” Winky reassured her, smiling a little bit at the way the girl’s hair crackled with her magic. Such a strong New Blood. Would be a very good addition to whatever family she married into someday. “But it does happen sometimes. Master Crouch would not do that, though, no, would not at all. Winky is just scared of heights.”

The Great Harry Potter nodded as he opened the dreadful muggle knit thing with a hood that he wore over his awful scraps-worn-as-clothes. He was draping the knit thing over Winky’s head, enclosing her in warmth and softness and the lovely thrum of his family magic mingling with Dobby’s Old Bond.

Winky sighed and relaxed into his side. Into the protection he offered her wordlessly. Dobby was right. The Great Harry Potter was very great. And very kind too.

Dobby bounced in the Elf Stream, already blithering about how great his Master Harry Potter was despite every other Elf on the island groaning at him to stop already. Every single time anyone mentioned anything even vaguely connected to the Potters, Dobby was babbling about his Great Harry Potter.

Which was ridiculous.

“Winky is not wanting to hear it until Dobby takes proper care of his Great Harry Potter,” Winky told Dobby directly through the Elf Stream. “His is wearing rags and is not fed well. Dobby is proud but he is not being a good elf for his master.”

All the elves snickered as Dobby clutched his chest and staggered as if he’d been stabbed. Ridiculous male. Someone should be twisting his ear and making him do what was right for his master. There were so few Old Bond masters out there. Winky was scandalized that one would be living so poorly when they had a nice strong elf to help them.

The Great Harry Potter tucked his knit thing around Winky, resting one arm around her shoulders to keep her even safer.

“Does that help?” the Great Harry Potter asked. His smile and his magic were very warm and kind.

“Does,” Winky whispered, patting his thigh to distract from the way she blushed. “But Master Harry Potter needs to have his Dobby take better care of him. Such clothes and Master Harry Potter is much too scrawny. Needs feeding up.”

The Great Harry Potter laughed a little, his cheeks going as red as Winky’s cheeks had gone apple-green. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was bruised, then ran one hand over his hip, which was also bruised, before shrugging and gently patting Winky’s back.

Oh, such a not-good place for the Great Harry Potter.

“Dobby’s not mine,” the Great Harry Potter said, so very quietly and with so much sadness that Winky dropped her hands entirely. “I mean, I helped free him. He’s nobody’s elf now.”

Winky’s jaw dropped open as she stared up at him.

The Great Harry Potter didn’t know that he had Old Bonded to Dobby? And Dobby hadn’t told him? All the elves on the island had felt it. Their magic had spun together into a bond that was almost visible. Even now, Winky could hear echoes of the bond forming through the Elf Stream, ringing like a bell. How could a Master from such a strong, old, faithful family like the Potters not know?

“Dobby!” Winky huffed directly at him. “You is fixing this!”

Instead, Dobby used his Old Bond to disappear entirely into the Potter magic, becoming invisible in every way to the other Elves.

That boy. Winky would twist his ear, she would. He deserved it! Leaving his poor little Master in rags and underfed this way. What was the world coming to?

“You is calling Dobby later,” Winky ordered the Great Harry Potter as her master and his awful rich friends climbed the stairs together, noses all held high like they smelled something nasty. “You is asking him about Old Bonds. And you is not letting him sneak out without answering, no, you is not! What is the world coming to? Old Bonds among us and Masters not even knowing what they is doing?”

The Great Harry Potter opened his mouth slowly, a frown on his face and in his magic all but shouting that he had no idea what Winky was talking about.

But then Old Master Crouch arrived with his rich friends, which meant that the Great Harry Potter got to move back with his friends and Winky was finally, finally, finally released to go take care of Young Master in the tent under the invisibility cloak.

Such a bad idea bringing Young Master here. Winky had pleaded with Old Master, had begged on her knees to be allowed to keep Young Master safe at home in his special room in the basement of the manor with all the wards that kept him in and everyone out, but Old Master wouldn’t let her. Had to keep Young Master close or the Imperious would break and Young Master would start screaming and blasting things with wild magic before he ran off to try and find that nasty Dark Lord shade that was floating about.

If Dobby really wanted to do right by his Great Harry Potter, he would go find that shade and lock it in a smokey quartz crystal with trap and maze and illusion spells like the one the Old Mistress made before she died. Winky had added to it after the Old Mistress died to make sure that made the crystal would make the Dark Lord’s floaty shade think that had a body back when it didn’t.

Would be happy and content being all violent and nasty inside the crystal where it couldn’t hurt anyone. Then Dobby could pop to nice hot volcano and throw the crystal in.

Yes. That would work nicely so no more Dark Lord to twist Winky’s Young Master up in knots.

No matter how she tried, she just couldn’t clean the Young Master’s magic of all the compulsions and nasty curses with that mark on Young Master’s arm. It twisted him and twisted him until his magic was like a rope that had been coiled so tight it went into knots. Winky could barely even clean the outside of his magic. The inside was full of corroded old gunk that needed to be scrubbed off so the Young Master could be sane again, but no, Dobby had to lie and hide and not properly take care of the problem for his Great Harry Potter.

Dobby surfaced out of the Potter magic to stare at Winky through the Elf Stream.

“That is working?” Dobby asked.

“Is working,” Winky said as she gratefully bowed to Old Master Crouch and popped back to the tent with her poor Young Master. “If soul is fractured, bits can escape, but that doesn’t be happening all that often.”

“Aaaaaand if it does be happening?” Dobby asked while easing back down into the Potter magic like he was trying to hide under covers while making a bed with them. “Soul fractured-ed bits?”

Winky stood there next to the Young Master with her mouth dropped open like a fresh caught bass. There is fractured soul bits? Along with the shade?

“Dobby, you comes here right this instant!” Winky ordered, stomping her foot to emphasize her point.

Dobby popped in, already twisting up his clothes in his hands as he stared at Winky fearfully. Old Master Crouch’s tent was properly warded against intrusions. Even Old Master’s rich friends couldn’t come in. Winky should not, on punishment of clothes, have ordered Dobby in, but now that she had, the wards wouldn’t hurt him.

Winky might, though.

“You is telling Winky the truth,” Winky snapped at Dobby. “Is there soul fragments of Dark Lord’s shade floating around?”

“Oh, no, there is not,” Dobby said completely confidently but his magic flinched away from Winky’s stare.

“And is there fragments that is not floating?” Winky demanded. “Is they anchored to something? Several somethings? Is they anchored to living peoples and Dobby has not said something about it?”

Dobby whined and started tugging on his ears while dancing in place as if he was being pushed against a direct order. Except his magic is not straining against a direct order. Dobby is just being willful like Dobby always is.

“You is answering me!” Winky shouted at Dobby.

“…Yes,” Dobby whined as he collapsed to his knees. “There is fragments anchored to things. And people. Person. One person. But it is not hurting him!”

“Yet!” Winky shouted while waving her arms. “Is not hurtings him yet! They must all be found and tossed in volcano along with the crystal.”

“Dobby does not have…”

Dobby shut his willful mouth the instant that Winky popped the old Mistress’ smoky quartz trap crystal into his hands.

“Dobby has but does not know where…” Dobby started to say only to stop when Kreacher, of all elves possible, popped in with a nasty-bad-wrong locket.

“Master Regulus told Kreacher to destroy it,” Kreacher said, voice all creaky because it had been so long since he talked to anyone. “Kreacher has tried and tried but he cannot destroy it. He does not think volcano can destroy it, either.”

Winky touched one finger to the chain before flinching. “Is very nasty-bad-wrong magic. But is still a soul fragment. Old Mistress was very clear. All pieces must be destroyed together.”

Dobby leaped to his feet to glare at Winky, though he did keep the Old Mistress’ crystal clutched to his chest. “One piece is in the Great Harry Potter’s scar! Dobby will not be destroying the Great Harry Potter.”

“The Mistress would have known how to handle it,” Kreacher croaked at them, magic almost breaking with his lonely misery. “Mistress knew all kinds of soul magic.”

“Kreacher is going to ask her, then,” Winky said. Boys. Always with the running around and never with the asking questions and thinking things through. “She is giving books to be read. Then Kreacher is telling Dobby which books. Dobby is telling his Great Harry Potter. The Potters are Very Old and Very Rich. He will have the books in his vault, or he will be buying them. Then the nice New Blood girl can help with the Wheezy boy to remove it and put it in its own crystal and then all the pieces is being destroyed at once.”

Dobby blinked. Kreacher nodded slowly as he cradled the nasty-bad-wrong pendant in his hands.

“That is being a good plan,” Kreacher said. “Kreacher has tried everything else. Traitor Master is not helping with all the stupid things he is doing.”

“Then Kreacher is not handling him right,” Winky said, hands on her fists. “Bad masters is one thing. Willful masters who is not learning what they need to learn is another. Kreacher is old. Kreacher should be knowing this for a long, long time.”

Kreacher scuffed the floor with one dirty foot. “…Mistress gave orders on how Traitor Master was to be treated.”

Both Winky and Dobby side-eyed him strongly enough that Kreacher hunched his shoulders and muttered angrily at them. Even his magic muttered in the Elf Stream, which got him a round of annoyed shouts from all the other elves because Kreacher muttered in the Steam as much as Dobby bragged in the stream and neither of them was doing anything that they needed to be doing.

“Traitor or not, Sirius Black is being Master Black now,” Winky declared. “Is not mattering if you likes him. Is not mattering if he likes you. All that matters is that he is Master, and he has books. So Kreacher is asking the Old Mistress’ portrait about soul magics and then, oh, Winky is deciding that Kreacher is telling Traitor Master Sirius that Kreacher is seeing nasty-bad soul magics on the Great Harry Potter’s scar.”

“Oh!” Dobby breathed, starting to dance in place with glee. “That would make the Dogfather start thinking again, it would. He is almost soul-fractured himself, he is. Too much time around Dementors.”

They all shuddered for Dementors. No good elf, or even a very bad elf, wanted to be around Dementors. They sucked in and ate all the clean-good magic, spewing out nasty-bad magic so that all the masters and mistresses got sick and sad and miserable. Then the Dementors ate the bad feelings, leaving them sicker and sadder and more miserable than before.

Very slow way to die, Dementors. Very bad way, too.

Kreacher ran one thumb over the emeralds on Master Regulus’ locket. “Kreacher can be doing that. But if Kreacher tells Traitor Master that, Traitor Master will not believe Kreacher. Hates Kreacher, he does.”

Winky sighed and shook her head. “Boys. Kreacher is doing it anyway. Kreacher knows masters is no good at knowing what’s good for them. That is why they is having elves. Ask the Old Mistress about the right books. Tell Dobby. Then let Dobby and Winky handle it.”

Kreacher glowered at her. “Unless Old Master Crouch loses track of Young Master. Unless Old Master Crouch orders Winky not to do it.”

“If that happens,” Winky said, glaring right back at him, “then Tippy can help Dobby. Tippy is being a good girl. She can helps and the Dark Lord’s shades and all his fragments will being destroyed. The Great Harry Potter will being saved. And maybe, if we is all doing our jobs and working hard instead of lazing about whining about not being able to complete one single little task, the Traitor Dogfather Master can be learning to not be so bad with elves.”

Kreacher popped away but not soon enough for the apple-green blush to show through the dirt covering his cheeks. Such a terrible elf, Kreacher. He hadn’t always been being bad but since his Blacks started dying and serving the Dark Lord, he was going to pieces all over the place.

“Well,” Winky said, shaking her head and staring at Dobby, “that is that. Dobby is going. He is telling his Great Harry Potter about the Old Bond. And he is not lying or cheating or running away!”

Dobby popped away, too, with a squeak and a blush that he tried to hide behind the smokey quartz trap crystal. Silly. All the elves could feel his embarrassment. No reason for that. He should be just going and talking to his Great Harry Potter as soon as the scary flying game was done.

In the meantime, Winky would do her best for her Young Master. As long as Old Master Crouch didn’t start drinking and losing control over the imperious, it would all be fine. Winky sighed before biting her lip.

She’d better replace Old Master Crouch’s whiskey with elf wine.

***

“Mate, why’d you do that, anyway? The thing with Mr. Crouch’s elf?”

“He was just being nice, Ron. Seriously.”

“It was…”

“Yeah?”

“It’s hard to explain, Ron. But, well, she was there and doing something that terrified her. But she kept right on doing it because it was the right thing to do. And, well, I just. Felt like I should help. You know, a little bit. It’s nice to have help when you’re doing something that scares the heck out of you, you know?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Oh. Um. Huh. That. That makes sense, mate. Sorry I, you know, poked you about it.”

“Eh, it’s fine. I mean, seriously, it was just draping my hoodie over her for a bit. It was easy. No big deal, right?”

“No, not at all, mate. Not at all.”

“…Boys. You did very well and I’m sure that Winky was very appreciative of it, Harry. Maybe we can ask how she is later. I’m still very annoyed with Mr. Crouch for sending her up there to do that in the first place. The sheer lack of care that order displays infuriates me!”

“…”

“….Next time, I’ll ask when Hermione isn’t around.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that, Ron.”

 

 

2. To Right a Wrong

Dobby was lurking in the shadows under the seats in the stadium. His Great Harry Potter was sitting above him, bouncing with excitement and shouting as the silly wizard game with the broomses whooshed around in the center of the stadium.

Dobby was not understanding the game. He was not wanting to understand it. Too much flying and throwing things and crashing into things for Dobby, though admittedly the Masters did all find it to be a fine game.

Give him a nice game of elf-stones any day. No flying or swooping or crashing, just rolling dice and scooping stones and trading favors. Much better game, elf-stones.

Regardless.

Dobby was being here, close to his Great Harry Potter, and he could be feeling Winky’s disapproval through the Elf Stream. It was being a pointed stare at the back of Dobby’s head that remained even when he was ducking down into the Potter magic.

How Winky, who was a Crouch elf, could be glaring at Dobby when he was deep into the Potter magic and thus should be invisible was being unknown.

It was being Winky.

She was being beautiful and powerful and scary, as all good elf women should be.

He sighed a little over just how amazingly beautiful she was with her elegant long ears and long pointed nose. Keeping it inside, of course. Dobby might be a fool head over heels in love, but he wasn’t being an idiot. A wise elf did not be spewing his adoration all over the Elf Stream. That was being a perfect way to lose all respect from your chosen elf.

Well. Anyway. Dobby refused to leave his Great Harry Potter alone, especially when he was being so close to the old Bad Master and the Little Master. The Bad Master had said many times that cursing someone in the back was perfectly honorable because you lived to fight another day.

Dobby was agreeing with the old Bad Mistress who glared at the Bad Master for that. She was always cursing him in the back for saying such things in front of the Little Master, as an object lesson about thinking before speaking.

If only the Little Master had been paying attention to those lessons instead of his father’s lessons.

Oh, well. The Little Master would be having to learn how to conduct his own courtships from now on. Dobby was being a Potter elf now, not a Malfoy elf.

A little trill of joy came from the Potter magic.

That. That right there. That was why Dobby was believing that his Great Harry Potter already knew about the Old Bond.

Every time Dobby was being proud of being a Potter elf, there was a response from the Potter magic. And every time his Great Harry Potter thought about Dobby, there was being another slightly different trill of joy. A slightly strange one with a hint of regret.

Dobby was not understanding this regret. He should be asking about the regret.

Dobby was very much never, ever, ever going to be asking about the regret, even if Winky was glaring at him.

Unfortunately, Dobby was spending so much worrying about the regret and about the old Bad Master cursing his Great Harry Potter in the back that he was completely missing the point where the game was over, and people started having parties in the stadium seats.

At least until the booming shouts and stomping feet scared Dobby right out of the stadium and down to the hidden elf hidey-hole he’d built behind the Wheezy tent’s stack of firewood.

Dobby patted his chest to calm his racing heart and caught his breath while letting his magic keep track of his Great Harry Potter. Once his Great Harry Potter was being safe, Dobby could go find the shade of the nasty-bad-wrong Dark Lord and use Winky’s crystal. Very important to get that done, but not while his Great Harry Potter was being unsafe.

All the young ones ended up in the Wheezy tent, babbling happily about the silly game. They ate food which was very bad for them, as young wizards and witches always did when they were away from home on an Adventure. And, as the afternoon turned from golden sunlight towards rose-tinted sunset, the grown-up wizards and witches began their party.

With much more alcohol than was wise so close to muggles.

Those poor muggles. They was going to be obliviated so many, many times. Dobby was not approving.

And, actually, his Great Harry Potter would not be approving either, so Dobby could probably get away with putting elf wards around their little house? Probably. Maybe? No, yes, his Great Harry Potter would approve of that, as would Miss Grangy.

So Dobby popped over to put nice confusing elf wards around their little house so that no bad wizards or witches would come and torture them in the night. Should replace all the alcohol with elf wine, he should, but the wizards and witches would notice.

Sad.

“You is acting outside of yous authority,” Kreacher croaked as he popped in next to Dobby. His glare was a lot less venomous than normal.

“The Great Harry Potter and his Miss Grangy would approve,” Dobby said. “Dobby is being proactive.”

Kreacher glowered. “Proactive.”

“Proactive,” Dobby agreed, nodding firmly. “Miss Grangy is telling the Great Harry Potter and youngest Master Wheezy to be proactive and study early instead of leaving it to last minute. Protection now is good. No scramble later when the bad wizards and witches are drunk and stupid.”

“This is being true,” Kreacher allowed with a reluctant little grimace. “Bad Master Sirius is… yelling. A lot.”

“You is telling him about the soul fragment?” Dobby asked once all the wards were done, and he added a confusion line that would send anyone even lightly drunk or mildly malicious away from the muggles’ home.

“Kreacher is,” Kreacher confirmed. “He is yelling and throwing things. And not giving good recommendations. The Old Mistress yelled until she understood. She says that yous Great Harry Potter’s Miss Grangy needs to be teaching him Occlumency. She is giving this list of books. Kreacher is trying, unsuccessfully, to get Bad Master Sirius to pull them from the Black Library for your Great Harry Potter. He is not succeeding.”

“Yet,” Dobby said.

It was a short list, just three books, but that was being good. Miss Grangy was getting so obsessed with reading All The Things that she would be keeping reading forever if it was being a long list. Three was being manageable.

“Yet,” Kreacher agreed. The single word was being a threat to Master Dogfather Sirius, but it wasn’t being Dobby’s problem, so he wasn’t going to be worrying about it. “Kreacher will bring the books once he gets them from Bad Master Sirius.”

“Good,” Dobby said. “Dobby is going to go keep his Great Harry Potter safe. Drunk wizards is stupid wizards.”

They both sighed over that, a sigh that was echoed through the Elf Stream because so many elves were watching their masters and mistresses get stupid tonight. So many.

Why were wizards and witches this way?

Dobby didn’t know. He would never know. No elf ever would.

It was being no surprise that the screaming started after full dark fell. Dobby had been waiting for it after Winky’s terror over her idiot Young Master Crouch escaping from the Imperious.

Wizards were so stupid when they drank. Old Master Crouch knew he was being barely in control of the Imperious. He knew. That was why he was insisting on bringing Young Master Crouch out of the safe hidey-hole in the Crouch estate.

But he still was getting drunk.

Wizards. No common sense. None at all.

The screams turned into fires as tents got lit by magic flames, not fiendfyres but still bad. Witches and wizards were running everywhere, without thinking of the children they was leaving behind.

Well.

Not Old Master Wheezy or his heir Master Bill. They was being sensible, anyway, though they should have been insisting on taking his Great Harry Potter home right that minute. Or at least apparating them well away from the stadium until morning.

Dobby was staying invisible, running behind his Great Harry Potter through the woods along with his friends. The stupid drunk wizards who was all reminiscing about their stupid Dark Lord attacked anyone they could point a wand at.

They was not getting his Great Harry Potter.

The other elves couldn’t raise a hand against witches and wizards, not even to save themselves. Their bonds prevented it. Dobby was not being like them.

Dobby had an Old Bond.

He pulled on his Great Harry Potter’s family magic, whispering all the old prayers to the Potter ancestors to ask them to help him protect his Great Harry Potter from being seen, being caught, being killed. The Potter magic answered with a surge of power that made Dobby lightheaded for a moment. Then he channeled it into moving elf shields over his Great Harry Potter, Miss Grangy and the youngest Wheezys. Oh, and also Little Master Malfoy. They was all together so it was easier than not.

Annoying, but maybe, just maybe, Little Master Malfoy would stop being stupid about his crush on Dobby’s Great Harry Potter.

Kreacher snorted with amusement through the Elf Stream despite being mostly focused on keeping his Master Dogfather Sirius from apparating straight to the forest to protect Dobby’s Great Harry Potter.

The elf wards around the muggles house screamed.

“No, they is not,” Dobby said, staring towards the muggles’ home in outrage. “They is not attacking the wards!”

Another blast hit Dobby’s wards which made him grit his teeth against the urge to howl with outrage. Stupid drunk wizards being so stupid! Dobby would…

…Dobby would save the muggles?

Or save his Great Harry Potter?

“No!” Winky shouted, both physically and in the Elf Stream.

Dobby popped straight to her only to duck as her Young Master Crouch brandished Dobby’s Great Harry Potter’s wand.

“How was the Great Harry Potter losing his wand?” Dobby squawked as he hit Young Master Crouch’s ankles with a tentacle of magic that mimicked Devil’s Snare.

“You can’t!” Winky said, clutching at Dobby’s sleeve.

“Can, too,” Dobby huffed at her. “He is your master, not mine. My Great Harry Potter would want his wand back.”

Winky sucked in a breath, tears trembling in her eyes. Her magic shuddered inside of her, trapped as she was between two incompatible orders. Poor Winky.

“Is okay.” Dobby patted her hand. “Dobby is taking care of it. You is not having opposite orders for long.”

Because no matter what Young Master Crouch shouted at Winky, he clearly wasn’t seeing that Winky was talking to another elf. No surprise. Dobby hadn’t dropped his invisibility. Wasn’t going to, either.

Dobby summoned his Great Harry Potter’s wand right out of Young Master Crouch’s hand before the young not-even-drunk idiot could do whatever stupid thing he was going to do with Dobby’s Great Harry Potter’s wand. It smacked into Dobby’s palm.

Then, before Winky could try to wrestle it away from him so that she could meet the order staring her in the face, Dobby popped silently away to use the Potter magic and his Great Harry Potter’s wand to cast more protective shields over the muggles’ house.

“My wand!” the Great Harry Potter squawked as he and the other kids stopped in the woods. “It’s gone.”

Dobby sighed. Now he was noticing, when Dobby was busy using the wand to do good deeds in his Great Harry Potter’s name. The wand did not insist on going right back to his Great Harry Potter, so that was being good at least. And the Potter magic thrummed with the need to stop the drunk wizards from hurting the muggles.

Just a little longer.

Mistress Amelia Bones’ elf Sunny gasped her stress into the Elf Stream as she scrambled to get all the Aurors into action with their special portkeys and protective shield charms properly in place. Then Kreacher shouted into the Elf Stream as his Master Dogfather Sirius, the werewolf Moony and many of Dumbles’ Order of the Phoenix apparated to the stadium.

Lots and lots of bangs from apparition sounded all around Dobby. Then so many whooshes as the portkeys swept people into place, too. Good.

Dobby let the shield drop but kept the elf wards in place.

The drunk wizards and witches started apparating away. Dobby snorted as he popped silently to his Great Harry Potter’s side, still invisible. He poked his Great Harry Potter in the shoulder, making him start in the middle of the bush he was searching for his wand.

“Dobby found it,” Dobby whispered to his Great Harry Potter. “But Dobby was… naughty. He was using it to shield the muggles so the stupid drunk wizards and witches couldn’t torture them.”

His Great Harry Potter’s glasses reflected the fires burning on the other side of the woods. “You did? Will I get in trouble for that?”

“Should not,” Dobby said, grinning as he handed the wand back. “But should not be admitting that it was done, either. But if anyone is asking to check Harry Potter’s wand, will only be good things on it. Dobby is going to go help Winky. She is having many problems.”

That made his Great Harry Potter frown. “Go help her. Which way is she, anyway? We’ll come help, too.”

Dobby pointed, then gave his Great Harry Potter a little bit of magic that would let him find Winky and Dobby in the darkness and fires and stupid drunken wizard nonsense.

Not that he really wanted his Great Harry Potter to be around Young Master Crouch, but if Young Master Crouch was revealed, well, that would help Winky who really shouldn’t be trapped between Old Master Crouch and crazy Young Master Crouch.

Old Master Crouch was being so stupid to get drunk. So, so, so stupid.

Dobby popped to Winky’s side, huffing as he arrived to Young Master Crouch trying to beat Winky to death with a stick that was as skinny as a baby elf’s wrist. It wasn’t doing much damage, just little switch-cuts and flinch ow spots, but there was another big stick right next to Young Master Crouch that could crack Winky’s skull. Wouldn’t take long for crazy Young Master Crouch to get tired and pick it, instead.

“You stop hurting Winky!” Dobby shouted at Young Master Crouch loudly enough that the aurors heard him.

So did Old Master Crouch who came running, face blotchy from the alcohol and eyes wide with terror.

At the same time, Dobby’s Great Harry Potter came running with Miss Grangy, the young Wheezys, Little Master Malfoy and, hidden in the shadows where his Great Harry Potter couldn’t see or feel him, Master Dogfather Sirius and Master Moony. Dobby was very glad they held back, wands at the ready. Someone was needing to be able to put shields over his Great Harry Potter because Dobby had a role to play.

Wild Free Elf Dobby to the Rescue of the Beautiful Winky!

“What?” Young Master Crouch said staring at Dobby as he stopped being invisible. “Go away, you little rat! Don’t interfere with your betters!”

“Dobby is no rat!” Dobby yelled right back at him, making his hands glow dramatically as he threw an elf shield over Winky and then shoved Young Master Crouch up and away from her. “Dobby is a Free Elf! He does not be having to listen to you!”

To Dobby’s delight, Young Master Crouch went flying head over heels. He crashed down in a big rose bush that had long since lost its flowers. The thorns tore up his robes and scratched his face and hands, setting Young Master Crouch to screaming in outraged pain.

“No,” Winky moaned, trembling under Dobby’s elf shield. “Young Master…!”

She was not being as hurt as she was pretending to be, probably because the aurors were there already with Old Master Crouch on their heels. While the Aurors shot petrifying and rope spells at Young Master Crouch, Old Master Crouch stared at Dobby.

Mouth open, eyes bloodshot and far too wide. His hands was shaking like a tent not tied down properly in the middle of a gale. When Old Master Crouch turned to stare at his son being pulled from the rose shrub, he was flinching.

Not in sympathy for his son’s many bloody scratches.

No, Old Master Crouch was flinching as he was eyeing the Aurors around them all. And then he was noticing Dobby’s Great Harry Potter staring at both him and his crazy, stupid son.

And then his eyes went to Winky.

Who sucked in a breath, levering herself up on one elbow to stare pleadingly at Old Master Crouch.

“Holy shit, it’s Barty Crouch Junior!” one of the aurors said.

“It can’t be!” Old Master Crouch declared. “My son died in Azkaban.”

But, of course, it was Young Master Crouch. Who else could it be? Dobby glowered at Old Master Crouch as he whirled to point an accusing finger right at Dobby’s Great Harry Potter.

“What did you do, boy?” Old Master Crouch bellowed.

“Um, shielded some people while we ran?” Dobby’s Great Harry Potter said, putting on very, very good wide, innocent eyes. “But. Um. Who is that?”

“His son,” Mistress Amelia Bones said as she strode into the little clearing with even more aurors on her heels. “Who was, in fact, supposed to have died in Azkaban. Interesting that he’s quite alive and here.”

“It has to be that boy and his free elf,” Old Master Crouch snapped. “That can’t be my boy. He wants to discredit me, help those friends of his earn more winnings.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Miss Grangy exclaimed as she knelt next to Winky who whimpered and bit her lip as tears crept down her cheeks. “We’re children. If anyone got him out of Azkaban, it had to be you. You have the power, authority and somewhere to hide him. We certainly don’t.”

All the Aurors turned on Old Master Crouch who quailed for a moment. Then he stared right at Winky, a tiny apology in his magic even as he snarled furiously at Winky. Old Master Crouch pointed at Winky who gasped.

“Did you hide him?” Old Master Crouch demanded. “Did you? You, you, tell the truth, Winky! Did you hide him away somewhere?”

His magic demanded that Winky keep the secret of who’d ordered her at the same time he ordered her vocally to tell the truth, which was just horribly mean. Dobby shouted at Old Master Crouch only to squawk as his Great Harry Potter put his hands on Dobby’s shoulders, quieting him.

“Winky is sorry!” Winky wailed. “Winky had to! Winky was ordered to hide him away, keep him safe, keep him from escaping, but he kept waking up. Winky couldn’t keep him asleep!”

She clung to Miss Grangy’s coat, sobbing as the Aurors stopped looking at Old Master Crouch. Even Mistress Amelia Bones grimaced, looking like she was not going to dig any further. Only Dobby’s Great Harry Potter frowned as if he wanted to ask questions, not that he got the chance to.

“You…!” Old Master Crouch mustered his magic as he tore off a glove and threw it in Winky’s weeping face. “There! You’re no elf of mine. I set you free, Winky.”

Winky gasped as the bond between her and Old Master Crouch snapped. She wavered on her knees, then wailed as her magic turned inwards in all the bad ways. Both Dobby and his Great Harry Potter gasped along with her.

They moved as one, rushing to Winky’s side. Dobby’s Great Harry Potter scooped Winky up in his arms, glaring at Old Master Crouch as he rocked Winky in his arms. His magic already curled around Winky in the Old Ways, offering a bond and a family and a home just as he had to Dobby.

“You horrible man!” Miss Grangy snapped at him. “She didn’t deserve that!”

“Winky,” Dobby’s Great Harry Potter said while staring straight into Old Master Crouch’s widening eyes, “would you be my elf? I think I need one.”

Winky trembled in his arms, even with Dobby clutching her elbow and urging her to say yes, yes, yes, yes. The Crouch magic trembled, unable to approach because he’d already rejected Winky. Miss Grangy’s magic thrummed protectively around Dobby, Winky and his Great Harry Potter. She was very, very close to casting a shield over them instinctively, just from her protective rage.

“She’s a bad elf!” Old Master Crouch yelped.

“No, she’s not,” Dobby’s Great Harry Potter said with all the Potter magic thrumming in his voice. Green and gold sparkles shimmered around the three of them like fireflies, so strong and so pure and so ready to join with Winky.

“Yes,” Winky said, sniffling and then sobbing into Dobby’s Great Harry Potter’s jumper. “Yes, Winky will be your elf. Winky will gladly be a Potter elf, Master Harry.”

The Old Bond spun Winky and the Great Harry Potter’s magic into a rope that shimmered in the air around the two of them. Where Dobby’s bond to his Great Harry Potter had been silent and fast, sleek and sneaky so that the bad Old Master Malfoy wouldn’t see it, Winky’s bond to their Great Harry Potter outshone the fires, the moon overhead and the many, many lumos the Aurors had cast.

It danced between the two of them, sending all the wizards and witches stumbling backwards in shock. Fear. Confusion, too.

Their Great Harry Potter didn’t look frightened. His eyes widened and then he grinned as he hugged Winky close.

“Thank you, Winky,” the Great Harry Potter said. “Thank you so much for being my elf.”

The Old Bond sealed itself with a sound like a huge brass bell chiming and Dobby grinned in delight along with their Great Harry Potter. Winky was safe. Now they could both take care of their Great Harry Potter which should make the whole thing much, much easier.

***

“Did you hear, Gladys? Harry Potter took an elf!”

“Oh, dear, Annie, that’s the barest beginning of the whole story. I heard that he started trying to steal the poor thing before the game even began. Then he went out after dark and stirred up all kinds of trouble just so that he could corner Mr. Crouch into freeing his elf.”

“…Really? Gladys, I know you want a promotion, but do you have to kiss Crouch’s ass quite this obviously? I’m trying to enjoy my tea here.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“You should. It’s granted. No, no, I got it straight from Rita Skeeter’s editor. She’s got a new article coming out and—”

“And you think I should apologize. Merlin’s beard, Annie, nothing Rita prints is real. Well, thank you for warning me to ignore everything that comes out of your mouth from here on out.”

“Why, I never!”

“It shows, trust me.”

“Have the two of you even started your work for the day?”

“Ah, Madame Bones! Ah, yes, just getting some tea for the morning. You know. The sun’s almost up.”

“Mm. Third pot, I see.”

“Heh, ah, yes. Not much sleep last night.”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been to bed yet.”

“…”

“…I’ll just be off to my desk now. Have a lovely day, Gladys! See you after work.”

“…Sorry about that, Ma’am.”

“Mhm. Just so we’re clear, I was present when Harry Potter took Winky as his elf. There will be no gossip or nonsense in this office about it. It’s an open criminal investigation and discussion of it in the kitchen or anywhere else is forbidden. Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course, ma’am.”

“…No, Gladys. The criminal investigation isn’t of Harry Potter or Winky. It’s of Crouch, both Senior and Junior.”

“But he’s dead. Junior, that is. I thought? Isn’t he?”

“No. He’s not.”

“Oh. But. Oh! Oh, my. Oh, my! That’s not good. That’s not good at all.”

“No. It isn’t. And it’s not going to be discussed, is it, Gladys?”

“…No, ma’am.”

“Back to your desk.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

 

3. To Find a Sneak

Winky sat curled up in Master Harry’s arms. It was warm and safe being nestled so snugly in the Potter magic. The Potter magic was old, very, very old. It was full of the echoes of the wizards and witches who had lived in its pool. She could even feel echoes of the house elves who had served the Potters, though they all died at the same time that Master Harry’s parents did.

Such a sad thing. So many deaths so close together. Wizards might claim that it was long-long-ago, but house elves knew better. Everything that had been still existed in the Elf Stream. Everything that ever would be already danced in its magic.

And everything, everywhere, that existed now was touched by it, letting all Magic and all elves do what they needed to do. That was what house elves were, not that masters ever understood it. Silly masters, blinding themselves to Magic.

It was not being so warm and safe being in Master Harry’s bony embrace, sitting on his lap while he sat on a three-legged camp stool with a leather seat that needed much care.

Her poor Master Harry needed so much feeding. Food and better clothes and a safe home of his own. Winky could feel the lack of a home echoing all through Master Harry’s magic. The Potter Magic thrummed with it, too.

“Harry, you can’t keep her,” Miss Grangy was saying as the Wheezys packed up their tent without any care at all.

“…I don’t see why not,” Master Harry said, frowning at Miss Grangy as if she was crazy.

“It’s slavery!” Miss Grangy squawked. “You can’t own someone else! You know better than that!”

“Is not slavery,” Winky declared fiercely enough that both Master Harry and Miss Grangy stared at her in surprise. “New Bond is very much like slavery, yes. Must take orders and cannot defend youself, yes. Must obey and never question. Very like slavery, Winky agrees.”

“See?” Miss Grangy huffed at Master Harry.

“You is listening to Winky, young Miss Grangy!” Winky snapped at her.

Even Madame Bones who was lurking in the background blatantly not-watching the Wheezy’s packing their tent, like everyone else around them was packing their tents, startled. Miss Grangy jerked back, hands clutched to her chest and eyes wide. Better, her magic pulled back in from where it had been trying to scrabble at the edges of the Potter magic like an ill-trained crup digging at a closed door.

“Sorry,” Miss Grangy whispered.

“Better,” Winky said with a firm nod. “Winky had New Bond. With Old Master Crouch. Was very much like slavery but was still better than going crazy and dying. Master Harry did not give New Bond. Master Harry gave Winky an Old Bond, like all bonds used to be. It is being totally different.”

Miss Grangy’s eyes narrowed as if she wanted to ask All The Questions, which she clearly did. Her magic all but screamed it. And wasn’t it lovely how much more clear Magic was for Winky now that she had an Old Bond? No wonder Dobby rampaged around doing crazy, random things. They wasn’t crazy or random at all.

Dobby was just hearing Magic and following it’s call.

“I don’t know what an Old Bond is,” Master Harry commented. “How’s it different?”

“So many ways,” Winky said, smiling up at him. “Old Bonds is agreeing between the house elf and the wizard that they is working together. Not orders elf must follow or being punished, but working with each other. Is dropping Winky into the Potter magic where Winky can clean it and help make the Potter magic strong and healthy. Is being friends and allies, not Owner and slave. Is very nice. Winky can see so much more in Magic now.”

Master Harry cocked his head to the side, studying Winky thoughtfully while the Potter magic hummed between them happily.

“Is that why my magic feels better?” Master Harry finally asked.

“Of course,” Winky said. “Winky has always been very good at cleaning magic for her masters. Winky will make sure Master Harry’s magic is good and strong. And she will feed Master Harry up right. She doesn’t know what Master Harry thinks he is doing wearing clothes like that though. Winky is going to hide them and then burn them first chance she gets.”

Master Harry grinned while Miss Grangy turned around to giggle into her hands. The Wheezys looked delighted by that thought, other than little Miss Wheezy who frowned and youngest Master Wheezy who looked and felt desperately jealous.

No surprise there. The youngest ones always was jealous of new things in such a big family. Winky didn’t think much of Mistress Wheezy for forcing them to wear such old hand-me-downs, but that was all right. She would just find ways to make it better for Master Harry’s friends.

“Kreacher might have old fabric Winky could cut up,” Kreacher offered in the Elf Stream. “Just sitting around.”

“Winky is not cutting up Master Dogfather Sirius’s favorite pajamas just because Kreacher is angry at him,” Winky said severely. “But Winky would take fabric actually lying around. Potter magic likes that idea.”

“Dobby will find lots!” Dobby enthused, popping away to go scavenge, trade, steal or maybe even buy fabric for his Great Harry Potter.

Boys. As if Winky wasn’t very aware that they both thought Winky was beautiful.

Still. Fabric to make nice clothes for Master Harry and his Wheezy friends was a good thing. Winky was pretty, but she wasn’t dumb. If the boys wanted to court Winky by offering her lovely fabrics to take care of her Master Harry, well, Winky was certainly going to take it.

Master Harry laughed a little ruefully. “I don’t have much else besides school uniforms to wear.”

“Winky will fix that,” Winky promised. “Winky will get fabric and make Master Harry nice clothes herself. So many that Master Harry will be throwing them at other people to make room to sleep. Yes, she will.”

That got even the youngest Wheezys giggling, which was much better than the frightened scramble that they’d been doing before. The tent finally, finally, finally got packed away. Master Wheezy and his Heir Bill turned to Mistress Amelia Bones who nodded grimly as she offered a knotted piece of rope.

“This will take you home once you say the password,” Mistress Amelia Bones said. She waited until Master Wheezy had it firmly in his hands before she continued. “The password is Burrow. We’ll need you at work right after that, Arthur, but get the kids home.”

“I be right there, Amelia,” Master Wheezy promised. “Just let me get Molly calmed down first.”

“Master Harry can set Winky down,” Winky said, nudging him until he did. “Winky does not like portkeys. Winky can pop right to Master Harry now so is fine.”

“You’ll be safe?” Master Harry asked, hesitating.

“Mhm,” Winky confirmed. “Winky will be very safe. Potter magic is strong and Winky is very fast. No one sees Winky unless she wants them to.”

He finally, after hesitating for several more seconds, set Winky down. She promptly went invisible and then silently popped over next to Master Harry’s Dogfather and Master Moony, both of whom were still hiding in the shadows like complete idiots.

As soon as all the kids touched the rope, Master Wheezy triggered the portkey and whoosh! Off they went. Winky nodded approvingly.

Mistress Amelia Bones hummed thoughtfully to little Miss Tonks whose face and body went from a big burly man’s to her normal fine, elegant Black features.

“What’s up with that Old Bond stuff, Ma’am?” little Miss Tonks asked.

“A very good question,” Mistress Amelia said. She adjusted her monocle, activating the spells on it so that she absolutely would see Master Harry’s Dogfather and Master Moony in the shadows.

Winky wrapped the Potter magic around both of them, hiding them from wizardly magic. Witchy magic, too. Mistress Amelia swept her gaze around the whole area before nodding that they were alone.

Ha! Winky was the best elf, even better than Dobby who squawked from under a stack of utterly inappropriate pink and yellow striped broadcloth that wouldn’t do at all for Master Harry.

“Search the area,” Mistress Amelia said. “We need to find out what Barty Junior was up to.”

“Shouldn’t you ask Winky?” little Miss Tonks asked.

“I will,” Mistress Amelia promised though her magic made it more of a threat than anything proper. “I doubt that I’ll get anything useful, though.”

“Right,” little Miss Tonks said with an exaggerated grimace that turned her face and body back into the big burly man’s. “House elf loyalty. Got it. Off I go.”

Winky grabbed Master Harry’s Dogfather and Master Moony. They yelped, silently because Winky was a good elf and knew not to let surprised wizard sounds escape her shields, as Winky popped the three of them back to Kreacher.

“Master Harry’s Dogfather is getting those books for Master Harry,” Winky ordered. She wagged a finger in his very surprised face. “You is stopping being difficult. Winky is needing them to help Master Harry, so shoo! Kreacher is bringing them straight to Winky, understand?”

Kreacher sighed, his glower blackly disgusted as he stared at Master Harry’s Dogfather. “Kreacher will. As soon as he can gets the books. Such failings, such depths the Black family has fallen to, relying on bad Master Sirius for anything.”

“Hey!” Master Harry’s Dogfather squawked.

“No, hush, Padfoot,” Master Moony said.

His hand on Master Harry’s Dogfather quelled both the verbal squawks and the rising outrage from the Black family magic which really didn’t know if it was coming or going. Such a mess, there.

Old Master Crouch had complained his whole life, from the time he was the littlest of little masters, that the Blacks didn’t deserve their money or power. Winky had never scolded him over that. If it had been during Old Master Crouch’s grandfather’s time, then yes, she would have.

Blacks then was strong and terrifying and beautifully powerful in all the old, old ways. They was doing rituals that shook Magic all through the island. They had many, many elves who worked very, very hard to keep the Black family magic nice and clean despite the sorts of things their masters got up to.

Now though? Old Master Crouch wasn’t exactly wrong. There was only being Master Harry’s Dogfather, and he wasn’t being much of a master at all. The Black family magic swirled around him, split between his frantic struggles to escape from his own magic and the nasty-bad-wrong influence of Young Master Crouch’s Dark Lord.

Winky had never seen such a mess of family magic before. Not good for elf and master to be so at odds, not good at all. If Winky was going to be accepting any courtships from Kreacher, he would have to being much better about keeping the Black family magic happy.

Kreacher stared at Winky in utter betrayal.

So did Master Harry’s Dogfather, though most of his outrage was pointed at Master Moony.

“Which books?” Master Moony asked. His eyes gleamed gold as his wolf stirred inside of him.

Dobby popped the list into Winky’s hand, so Winky gave it to Master Moony.

Master Harry frowned, off by the Burrow, because Winky hadn’t arrived yet. Winky sent him a reassuring pat, letting him know that she was checking on his Dogfather and Master Moony before coming to join him. And maybe gathering up fabric which was not a horrible striped monstrosity. Master Harry ducked his head to hide a grin from the others around him, but his amusement and approval swelled in the Potter magic.

Winky was the best elf ever!

“Is for Winky to make “test” clothes for the youngest Wheezys,” Dobby said, offended. “Mistress Wheezy is very, very good at permanent transfigurations. Good fabric, nice magic to it. Just ugly. Mistress Wheezy can fix that.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” Winky said, staring at Master Moony whose eyebrows went up. “Master Moony can gets these books for Master Harry. He is needing them. But not more than these. Miss Grangy will want to read and read and read, not help Master Harry with them, if is too many books.”

Master Moony grinned. “Ah, yes. Miss Granger is like that, isn’t she? Right, let’s get Winky these books, Padfoot. Send them by Kreacher?”

“Yes, please,” Winky said, bouncing on her toes happily. “If Master Harry’s Dogfather wants to send nice clothes for Winky to alter for Master Harry, that would be very helpful. Very helpful indeed. Because Winky really is going to be burning those awful rags he is wearing. Yes, she very much is.”

Master Harry’s Dogfather barked a laugh, more like his Animagus fuzzy self than his wizard self. Which was another problem that needed to be dealt with. Winky was very sure that it wasn’t so good for a wizard to be living in his Animagus fuzziness instead of in his proper skin.

She would be talking to someone about that. Yes, she would. Someone needed to be helping Master Harry’s Dogfather and soon.

“I can do that,” Master Harry’s Dogfather said, grinning at Winky. “We’ve got enough old clothes squirreled away to clothe an army.”

“Send Kreacher with it then,” Winky ordered before turning to glare at Kreacher with her hands on her hips. “Kreacher is cleaning up! No arguing! He is cleaning himself and then he is cleaning this house and then he is cleaning the Black family magic. Traitors to the magic is not supposed to be more powerful in the magic than the Lord!”

“He is being the traitor!” Kreacher protested. “He is breaking with the traditions of the Black family and betraying his mother.”

“He is Lord!” Winky snapped right back at him because that was the sort of nonsense that witches and wizards pulled, not elves. “He is Lord Black, and he is Master Dogfather Sirius Black, and it is not mattering what the Blacks did in the past. Every Lord Black chooses his own path in Magic. You is knowing that! You is as old as I am, Kreacher. Don’t you be acting like that wild Free Elf Dobby, all getting above yous station and thinking stupid thoughts.”

Kreacher opened his mouth to protest at the same time that Master Harry’s Dogfather opened his mouth. They stared at each other and then slowly closed their mouths in unison. Winky nodded firmly.

“Winky is needing the books,” Winky declared, “and the old clothes. She is going to take care of her Master Harry now. You is not being stupid, Kreacher. And you is getting yous head straightened out, so you is not dog in human skin, Master Harry’s Dogfather. Is not healthy, not healthy at all. Winky will be keeping an eye on you, don’t think she won’t.”

While Master Moony turned away to laugh quietly into his hand, both Master Harry’s Dogfather and Kreacher looked appropriately cowed so Winky nodded.

Master Harry beamed when Winky popped in next to him.

“You made it,” Master Harry said, offering a hand that Winky took with a little bounce and a shy smile for the delight in Master Harry’s magic.

Master Harry truly did feel good. Old Master Crouch had never felt this way, even when he was a wee little wizard. Young Master Crouch had, briefly, before he went to Hogwarts and fell in with his nasty-bad-wrong friends. Winky would not let Master Harry fall in with bad friends, no, she would not.

“Winky did,” Winky agreed with a proud little nod. “Master Harry’s Dogfather is safe and sound with his Master Moony. They is getting books for Master Harry to read with Miss Grangy, plus old clothes for Winky to alter to fit for Master Harry.”

Winky was being very aware of the Wheezys staring at her, but she ignored it. Especially the rising huffing from Mistress Wheezy who was not the sort of witch who wanted anyone else to be caring for people around her. Always pushy, those sorts of witches, but Winky knew just how to handle such witches.

“Winky is getting some horrible bad ugly fabric from Dobby who is trying very hard to court Winky,” Winky continued, delighting in the way Master Harry’s eyes widened. “She has not been sewing clothes in a very long time, very long time indeed, so Winky was thinking of making practice clothes with the horrible bad ugly fabric Dobby thinks is worthy of her.”

Dobby popped in with the horrible bad ugly fabric which was even more horrible bad ugly. Good fabric, nice subtle stripes woven in with alternating shiny and matte, but the colors were too, too, too bright and just not good together. But it could be made much better and Dobby had brought more than twenty-five yards of it, plenty to make clothes for all of Master Harry’s friends.

“Winky is mean! Why is Dobby trying to court Winky?” Dobby demanded with a pout.

“Because Winky is powerful and beautiful and is your Great Harry Potter’s elf, that is why,” Winky said with a dismissive little wave of her hand that made Kreacher cackle and Dobby wilt even as his magic crowed in the Elf Stream about how brilliant Winky was at handling wizards and witches. “Boys. This always such a hot mess. If they wasn’t giving Winky babies, she wouldn’t be bothering. No, she would not. But my baby Tilly is all grown up so it is being time for another.”

“I…” Master Harry swallowed down laughter, clearing his throat several times before he could continue. “I guess you’ll just have to put up with his hot mess then, Winky.”

“It being a trial, Master Harry,” Winky said.

Dobby threw up his hands dramatically and popped away, which was just about perfect because even Mistress Wheezy was laughing into her fist now. Good. Working with strong, smart elves was always better.

Winky rounded her eyes at Master Harry hopefully. “Can Winky be asking Mistress Wheezy for help? Winky is good at the sewing, yes, but not so good at permanent transfigurations. Mistress Wheezy is very good at it. She can be helping Winky make the horrible bad ugly fabric not so ugly and then Winky can make practice clothes with lots of pockets for everyone.”

“Of course,” Master Harry said, nodding as he looked at Mistress Wheezy who blushed for the praise while smoothing her hands over her apron.

Her very colorful and multiply transfigured apron that used to have stains, stains and more stains and now just had many lovely roses and peonies all over it. Yes, she would be perfect.

“I’d be glad to help, dear,” Mistress Wheezy said. “What were you thinking?”

Winky levitated the fabric and cut it into five-yard chunks. “Winky was thinking dark burgundy for this one, then nice deep blue for this one, then alternating indigo and periwinkle blue for this one, then soft, forest green on this, and then cream and very, very, very soft gold on the last.”

“Oh, that will be lovely,” Mistress Wheezy said, wielding her wand like a true professional as she silently transfigured each length of fabric into much more pleasing colors. “Hmm, I think the indigo periwinkle needs a bit of adjustment.”

They spent a minute shifting the periwinkle until it was eggshell blue and the indigo into a nice cobalt, but all the pieces took Mistress Wheezy’s magic perfectly. The colors settled into the fabric like they’d been dyed that color in the yarn before it was even woven. Winky nodded approvingly.

“Good,” Winky said, clapping her hands happily. “Winky is stealing your younglings and making practice clothes for all of them. Nice little dress in the cobalt and eggshell for little Miss Wheezy, then green suit for youngest Master Wheezy. No, no, I think blue. Blue suit for youngest Master Wheezy. Twinses is getting the green. Nice jackets with all the pockets for tricksy twins. Burgundy goes to Heir Bill. Heir Bill is liking burgundy robes, maybe?”

Heir Bill laughed and shrugged. “Whatever you need practice with, I guess, though I’d say make something nice for Hermione before me.”

“No, no, cream and gold is for Miss Grangy,” Winky said. She wagged a finger at Heir Bill getting a grin from him and a snicker from Master Harry. “You is not distracting me. You is getting a nice thing from the horrible bad ugly fabric that isn’t ugly anymore.”

“All right, a robe would be lovely,” Heir Bill said, holding his hands up to ward off Winky’s disapproval even though he was laughing, too. “Thank you, Winky.”

Winky took over a corner of the lovely sitting room, fabric whipping around her chosen victims as she measured, cut, fitted and then sewed the new clothes for each in turn. Master Harry watched from the sidelines, wide-eyed but blindingly happy as Winky did nice things for this family that he thought of as almost his own family.

Though there was something creeping along the edges of her magic that she didn’t figure out until after she’d finished the pretty dress for little Miss Wheezy, the full three-piece suit for Friend Ron, the many-pockets-that-were-bigger-on-the-inside-jackets for the tricksy twins, the robe with many pockets that were not bigger inside for Heir Bill and the pretty white and gold dress for Miss Grangy.

There was an Animagus creeping around behind the floorboards of the house.

He was lurking at the base of the steps, watching everything that was happening with a sharp eye that watched her Master Harry far too closely. Worse, his magic was all nasty-bad-wrong and the Wheezy wards didn’t see a bit of it.

None! It took Winky several long, long moments of watching how he moved through the Wheezy wards to realize that they was completely blind to the Animagus. He’d woven in hidey-holes, crafted ways through the wards that none of the Wheezys could see or feel or hear.

And since they had no elves of their own, there was no one what could point the nasty-bad-wrong Animagus out. He could be spying and there was being no way to stop him from coming and going at will.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

His aura grumbled with resentment at the laughter, at the nice clothes the Wheezys was getting, and it wasn’t until he shuffled out onto one of the stairs, hiding in the shadows that she realized the worst of it.

The Animagus had the Bad Mark on his arm, hidden under his fur.

“Master Harry,” Winky said with a bright smile as she gathered up all the scraps, many of which were quite usable for making things. “Should Winky make something for the shy rat-man on the stairs? He can comes out of his Animagus form in privates, if he’s too shy to come down around a strange elf.”

Every single Wheezy froze.

So did the rat Animagus.

Then Mistress Wheezy, Master Wheezy, Heir Bill and the tricksy twins all whirled and blasted the rat Animagus with their wands. Winky threw shields over the children, and over their lovely new clothes of course, so that the battle wouldn’t hurt any of them.

To her surprise, the rat Animagus didn’t change back to his wizard form in time. He got hit with a blasting hex, a petrification, a matched pair of cutting hexes, and an incarcerous all at the same time.

What was left of the rat Animagus was bound up in the incarcerous ropes, but that wasn’t much. There was being bits of rat mixed with bits of wizard all over the stairs and the walls. And a little up on the ceiling somehow. Winky didn’t know how that happened.

“Oh, that be a hot mess,” Winky said, once silence fell. “Winky is sorry. Winky thought he was just a shy Wheezy since wards accepted him. She can clean it up, if Master Wheezy wants?”

“No, that’s fine, Winky,” Master Wheezy said, already striding to the fireplace. “You did more than enough.”

Mistress Wheezy was a dab hand at cleaning. She had the mess all cleaned up and hot chocolate into all the family’s hands before Master Wheezy even got the Aurors through the floo. Master Harry didn’t protest at all getting sent upstairs.

None of the kids did.

“Of course they is not protesting,” Kreacher grumbled in the Elf Stream. “They is traumatized. Winky is scaring them half to death.”

“Winky is not scaring them!” Dobby huffed at him as he wrestled with something slimy in the sewers of Hogwarts. “Rat-man is scaring them. Is different. Kreacher should be knowing that.”

“Bloody hell, mate,” Friend Ron whispered, voice cracking, as he collapsed on his bed in the very, very orange bedroom. “Bloody hell. He got back into our house. He got back in, and no one knew!”

“I can’t believe he was just sitting there listening to us and we didn’t see him,” Miss Grangy said, shaking as she leaned into Master Harry’s side. “Are we sure he was really Peter Pettigrew? It wasn’t a mistake?”

“No,” Tricksy Forge said. He was so pale that all his freckles stood out like splattered blood on his face.

“The bits…” Tricksy Gred continued.

“…changed shape,” Tricksy Forge finished.

“I’m with Ron,” little Miss Wheezy said as she collapsed on Friend Ron’s bed with him. “Bloody hell. What a day. Amazing game, terrifying attack, and now this. I can’t even think straight.”

“It is late,” Master Harry agreed. He looked out the window. “Actually, I think it qualifies as early now. How about we all get some sleep?”

The kids all exchanged looks and then moved off to their beds. Master Harry sighed as he looked at the cot he’d been given by the Wheezys. Winky patted his hand reassuringly.

“Um, I don’t have a place for you to sleep,” Master Harry said, biting his lip.

“Winky is not needing to sleep yet,” Winky said. “She is going to be going through Master Harry’s trunk and burning all those horrible old clothes. Then she is making Master Harry some good pants, good trousers, a nice waistcoat with deep, deep pockets. Proper jacket, too. Robeses will wait until Master Harry’s Dogfather sends Winky other clothes to alter for him. Can be a project for tomorrow.”

“Don’t overextend yourself, Winky,” Master Harry said, so sweet and so concerned that Winky beamed at him. He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “I mean it. You need to sleep and eat and relax just like everyone else. And please, make yourself a uniform, something pretty and warm with lots of pockets to store things in.”

Winky put her hands on her hips, smiling at him. “Master Harry is kind. Master Harry is good. Master Harry is sweet. But Master Harry is silly. Winky has all this new magic to be burning off before she can be sleeping. Go to sleep. Winky will be tired in the afternoon. She will be napping and Master Harry can be reading the books with Miss Grangy. It will be good.”

Because Master Harry was still young, he was easy enough to shoo off into bed. And because he was young, he fell asleep quick despite Friend Ron already snoring fit to rattle the shingles off the Burrow’s roof.

Children. They was always so lovely. Winky loved taking care of them. Hopefully Master Harry would find a nice witch or wizard and settle in to have lots and lots of babies for Winky to take care of.

Though that would be later. There was other things to take care of first, including making her new uniforms. Winky would make something continental. With a nice apron and one of those little caps the French house elves always bragged about. And ruffles. Lots of ruffles. Maybe even with lace.

Yes, that would be perfect. She smugly ignored the delighted laughter from Tilly and the flustered embarrassment from Kreacher and Dobby. Maybe she would even make the skirt of her new continental uniform gathered so that it would flounce as she walked. That would be lovely.

Winky settled in to do more sewing, watching over Master Harry as he slept. A quilt, too. The scraps would make a lovely warm quilt for her sweet Master Harry.

***

“What do you mean you’ve got Peter Pettigrew in pieces on your stairs?”

“Amelia, just send a proper forensics team. And a clean-up team, too, for that matter. It’s. Well.”

“…It’s Harry Potter again, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly. This time it was Winky. She noticed a rat in the house, realized it was an Animagus, thought it was a “shy” Weasley, and asked if she should make him clothes along with the clothes she was “practicing” making for my kids.”

“Practicing?”

“I think that Harry wanted to give us a present to make up for us taking him in over the latter part of the summer. Winky framed it as not having done any sewing recently. Got Dobby to bring in this utterly hideous fabric and then flattered Molly into permanently transfiguring the color into something less appalling. Then made, you know, dresses for the girls, full suit for Ron, jackets for the twins and a nice robe for Bill.”

“Only you, Arthur. Only you. Right. Clear the way. I’ll be there in a minute with a full team. Make sure the kids are upstairs and out of the way.”

“Already done. Thanks, Amelia. Sorry to make your life more difficult.”

“Can’t be helped. I’ll just take a Pepper-up before my first meeting of the day.”

“I’ll have Molly make tea for everyone. As thanks.”

4. To Bind a Master

It was being a very good thing that Master Harry was safe at the Wheezy Burrow because Dobby was not sure that it was being anything like safe to be with Master Harry’s Dogfather. The house itself was a mess and had been being a mess for a very, very long time, of course. Dobby could remember it being a mess for three generations now and it had only been being worse over the last generation.

The worst thing for a house was the Lord of the family at war with his own magic. Master Harry’s Dogfather was being so very much at war with his own magic and with his family magic that Dobby was being kind of surprised on a regular basis that Master Harry’s Dogfather didn’t just drop dead from the strain.

Master Harry’s Dogfather was the biggest mess of all the messes Dobby had ever seen.

What he wouldn’t have given, back before his sneaky Old Bond to Master Harry, to be the one to clean that enormous, ridiculous, life-threatening mess up. It would be the best thing ever. So much magic to clean, so much house to purge and clean and fix up.

Dobby shivered at the delightful thought of all that work. So nice.

“So Dobby is not understanding why Kreacher is so reluctant to being doing his job,” Dobby said through the Elf Stream as Kreacher grumbled and dragged his feet about actually fixing things in Grimmauld Place. “So much good work!”

Kreacher huffed back at him, blackly annoyed. Or maybe Black-ly annoyed.

“Dobby is being ridiculous,” Kreacher complained as he forced out the doxies in the curtains and then dealt with the boggart in the top floor linen closet. “Master Sirius is being a traitor to his own family.”

“Lord is Lord,” Dobby said, shrugging while dragging yet another nasty slimy magically huge slug down out of the sewers at Hogwarts. They was multiplying without the basilisk to eat them up. “Kreacher is just being stubborn not accepting Master Harry’s Dogfather at this point.”

“Is not Lord,” Kreacher complained, stopping dead in his tracks in the middle of the dust and spiderwebs of one of the top floor bedrooms that no one had slept in for years and years and years. “Will not be Lord. Is part of the problem! Bad Master Sirius refuses to be Lord Black. Kreacher is not properly bonded to him. Still only bonded to house and it is…”

Well.

That was being a very big problem. Dobby had to agree with that. Masters could be so stupid sometimes, but frankly, Dobby was very certain that if Kreacher put a little bit of his magic into cleaning the Black family magic rubbing against Master Harry’s Dogfather in all the wrong ways, it would make the Black Family magic much less abrasive. Then Master Harry’s Dogfather would being much less reluctant to claim it.

“At the very least,” Winky announced as she sewed magically expanded pockets into the reworked robes for Master Harry, “Kreacher must being quick about blocking the Blacks who followed the nasty-bad-wrong Dark Lord. They is making the Black family magic all wrong and hurtful for everyone else. No good elf would being allowing that to go on, no, they would not.”

Both Dobby and Kreacher winced at that firm pronouncement. Especially when Tilly hummed her agreement from the kitchens at Hogwarts and a few dozen other house elves across the island piped up about how right she was.

“Family member is required to swear to their lord first,” Dobby offered to Kreacher. “They is swearing to nasty-bad-wrong Dark Lord first and then feeding his tainted magic into family magics.”

Kreacher sighed. “Kreacher is knowing this. Kreacher had orders.”

“If Kreacher is wanting to be siring a baby with Winky, he is getting his head out of the slop bucket and fixing it,” Winky said so tartly that Dobby winced in sympathy for Kreacher.

“Fine,” Kreacher complained. “But if Bad Master Sirius is being mad about it, Kreacher is blaming Winky for it! You just wait. He is throwing Winky right under the Nightbus.”

Winky laughed at the idea of it. “Kreacher is stupid. Winky will make big sad eyes and say that Master Harry is just so worried about Master Sirius so of course Winky is telling Kreacher to protect his magical core by cleaning out the trash from the Black family magic!”

Pretty much every house elf on the island ducked down into Magic to hide from Winky’s shout. Other than Kreacher. He just flinched and then sighed and then set to work doing just as Winky ordered. Dobby couldn’t blame him. He would be doing the exact same thing if he was in Kreacher’s place.

Dobby would just have done it right when Winky asked the first time because Dobby was not being a fool. When a pretty elf like Winky told you to do a thing, you did the thing. Quick and happy and thorough.

Kreacher grumbled privately at Dobby, but the Black family magic reflected through him already felt better and he’d barely even started blocking out the nasty-bad-wrong from the locket and from Miss Bella, Miss Cissa and little Master Malfoy. Most of the rest of the Blacks who’d followed the nasty-bad-wrong Dark Lord were dead, so it wasn’t like it was being a really big job to cleanse the Black magic.

Though that locket really was bad.

Dobby frowned and then shook his head. He didn’t like the feel of the thing, but it was not being his problem to solve. Not yet, anyway. There was being books to bring to Master Harry, if Kreacher could ever get them from Master Harry’s Dogfather, and there was the shade to capture in Winky’s old Mistress’ crystal.

Which Dobby still had.

He checked on the teachers, especially old Dumbles. All of them were being very busy getting the school ready for the coming year. None of them was paying any attention at all to Free Elf Dobby who could go where he wanted when he wanted.

And what he wanted right that moment, because Dobby was proactive, was to go find the nasty-bad-wrong shade of the Dark Lord.

Dobby had been expecting that the shade would still be a shade, floating off somewhere polluting the area, but when he followed the trail of it’s nasty-bad-wrong-ness, it wasn’t. It was in a nasty-bad-wrong golem that lay like a sickly wizard baby in a ruined manor.

“Wormtail?” the nasty-baby Dark Lord asked. “Where have you been?”

“Ew,” Dobby said, staring at the nasty-baby Dark Lord. “You is messing up yours magic so bad. Dobby is not being sure that it even could be cleaned.”

The nasty-baby Dark Lord scowled at Dobby for a long moment before attempting to snarl. “Elf! You will tell me where Wormtail is immediately!”

“He is being cut to bits and petrified,” Dobby said because, eh, why not? “Nasty-baby Dark Lord is not having him to be helping him anymore. And Young Master Crouch is being in jail again, too.”

“What?” the nasty-baby Dark Lord squawked; eyes wide as he scrabbled at the moldy wing chair he was sitting in. “No! You must be lying!”

Dobby shook his head, popping over to gingerly press the crystal orb against the nasty-baby Dark Lord’s forehead. He didn’t think it would work. Winky had implied that it was designed to catch floating bits of the nasty-bad-wrong Dark Lord’s soul, not tear those bits out of a golem.

“No! No, no, no!” the nasty-baby Dark Lord wailed.

The orb throbbed as the nasty-baby Dark Lord struggled, screamed, kicked his feet and tried to hit Dobby. He was so weak that he didn’t even manage to scratch Dobby’s hands. Dobby pushed a little Potter magic into the orb, then a little more when it made the throbbing sucking feeling from the orb stronger.

As the nasty-baby Dark Lord screamed, creepy voice like fingernails on chalkboard, the orb gave an extra hard throb.

It changed color from smoky grey to obsidian black.

The creepy golem collapsed into dust on the moldy wing chair.

Dobby cheered, dancing in place. “It is working! Winky’s old Mistress was smartest witch ever!”

“She was,” Winky agreed smugly in the Elf Stream. “You is bringing that back to Winky right away. Kreacher, is you getting the books from Master Harry’s Dogfather?”

Kreacher sighed like a leaky tire. “Master Sirius is finally getting them. Master Wolfy scolded him into it. Kreacher is already gathering all the old clothes for Winky.”

“Good,” Winky said, radiating happiness. “You is both bringing those right away.”

It was still so early in the morning that none of the Wheezys were awake. Dobby was kind of appalled that Master Harry’s Dogfather had stayed up this late, but maybe he was being one of those wizards who liked being awake at night and asleep in the day.

Though, more likely, he was just being screwed up in the head from spending so much time around Dementors. Sleeping bad or not at all was a side-effect of Dementors. Kreacher really, really, really needed to clean the Black magic so it was being nicer for Master Harry’s Dogfather. That would help most of all in getting him to calm down again.

Dobby arrived just as Kreacher did.

Both of them made sure to arrive silently, so as not to wake up Master Harry or his Wheezy friend Ron who snored so hard that Dobby was pretty sure nothing would wake him. Except maybe the tricksy twins. They was being the sorts that could wake anyone if given a chance.

They both almost fell over the instant they saw Winky’s new uniform. Dobby, personally, thought his heart might just stop from the sight of it’s sexiness. Winky had created a Continental House Elf Uniform. With Lace!

She had a fluffly little mob cap in pure black tea towel fabric that covered the top of her head with pristine white lace around the edges of it. The dress had puffed sleeves and a high neckline with a tiny locket that had the Potter crest on it. Her dress’ skirt had layers. Layers! Gathered up and bouncy as she moved, complete with a petticoat full of ruffles and lace that made it go out in the most shocking fashion.

And bloomers!

Bloomers with lace and tiny socks with lace and then perfectly polished patent leather shoes that reflected all that lace and ruffles.

Dobby was surprised he didn’t pass out just from the sight of it. Kreacher gasped and turned apple-green, eyes going anywhere but right at Winky who smirked at them both, patting her bouncy, ruffly, gathered skirt with pride.

She held out a hand for the orb and Dobby was just glad she hadn’t decided to make Continental white gloves to wear, too. He would’ve been doomed if she had.

“We is going to have to put this safe somewhere,” Dobby said. “Is feeling worse and worse longer Dobby holds it.”

Winky nodded. She ran one long finger over it, humming something under her breath that Dobby didn’t understand. Crouch magic crept like lightning over its surface, except not Crouch magic since Winky was no longer being a Crouch elf.

The nasty-bad-wrong aura immediately decreased.

“Old Mistress was planning for that,” Winky said. “That will hold it for a while but eventually aura will be bad again. We is going to have to make sure to fix it before a year goes by.”

“Can Winky be doing that for Master Regulus’ locket?” Kreacher asked, hope in his eyes.

He had a huge stack of properly clean and folded clothes hovering over his head. Most of it looked very old, very out of style, but the fabric was good and all of it was being much bigger than what Master Harry would need. There would be being plenty of fabric for Winky to make her alterations with those clothes.

Kreacher also had the three books floating in a separate pile that he set down on Master Harry’s trunk.

“No, Winky cannot be doing that with locket,” Winky said sadly. “Is part of the crystal. But maybe Kreacher can be convincing Master Harry’s Dogfather to ask the goblins about it. They is being very, very good at breaking nasty-bad-wrong things.”

“Master Sirius is not being safe going out,” Kreacher huffed. “But Winky is here, and Heir Bill is working with the goblins. Master Harry could be asking Heir Bill about it.”

Dobby nodded along with Winky. “That is being a very good idea.”

“Winky will be doing that,” Winky agreed. “Now shoo! Go be doing your work. And Dobby, see if you can be finding more crystals like this one. Winky knows how to make more. She is thinking that maybe, possibly, with the Potter magic, it might be possible to pull the nasty-bad-wrong from Master Harry’s scar. She is not sure but should be tried.”

“Dobby will!” Dobby said, delighted at the sheer idea of getting the nasty-bad-wrong magic out of Master Harry.

It took the rest of the night and halfway through the morning before Dobby found a smoky quartz crystal that was big enough, about the size of his two fists together, that he could shape into an orb like what Old Mistress Crouch had made.

By that point, Miss Grangy was already through all three books, muttering under her breath about meditation schedules and intensive practice. Master Harry was partway through the first, frowning as he studied it. Youngest Wheezy Ron had gone outside to play with brooms with young Miss Wheezy who flew like she was going to be killing someone if they got in her way.

“Dobby found one?” Winky asked when Dobby popped in with the still-raw crystal. “Oh, that is being nice. Dobby found a good one.”

She set aside the alterations she was doing on six different pairs of pants to give them extra-deep pockets. Both Master Harry and Miss Grangy looked up, frowning at Dobby and Winky. Miss Grangy’s frown was all scowly, full of annoyance at being interrupted in her Very Important Reading Time.

Master Harry’s frown was curious. “What’s that for, Winky? Hi, Dobby! Having fun?”

“So much fun, Friend Harry!” Dobby exclaimed. He waved his arms widely while Winky and Miss Grangy exchanged those knowingly annoyed looks women always got. “There is being magically huge slugs in the sewers in Hoggywarts and Dobby has the job of removing them. They is slimy and gross and resist magic so he is getting to wrestle them and drag them out. The Mermaids is very happy about it. They is thinking the slugs is a great delicacy. It is awesome!”

Master Harry grinned. “That does sound awesome. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“So much,” Dobby assured him even though Miss Grangy rolled her eyes at him. “It is being so gross!”

“Boys,” Winky sighed.

“I know,” Miss Grangy agreed.

Master Harry hid a laugh in an awkward cough. “So, um, what’ve you got, Winky? A project of your own?”

“Is a project but is for Master Harry,” Winky said as she reshaped the quartz crystal into an orb, working her magic into it. There were many threads of Potter magic worked into it, too, all in a web that wound into a maze deep inside of the crystal.

That got both Master Harry and Miss Grangy staring.

“There is being nasty-bad-wrong magic in yous scar, Master Harry,” Winky explained as she finished the first layer of spellwork. “Is contained now, but could be very big problem if escapes into yous core. Old Mistress Crouch made orbs like this to capture shades of bad witches and wizards what was causing trouble after they was dying. So Winky is making a new one for Master Harry’s scar.”

“Oh, my God,” Miss Grangy whispered. She swatted Master Harry’s shoulder, making him start. “Harry! That’s… you have… it can’t be!”

“Um, can’t be what?” Master Harry asked even though Dobby could be feeling that he knew just what Winky was saying.

“Voldemort!” Miss Grangy hissed. “You have part of Voldemort in your scar! He could, he could, could see through your eyes. Tell what you’re doing. Maybe even control you!”

Dobby waved that concern off because it was not happening now. Not after Dobby dealt with shade bit of nasty-bad-wrong Dark Lord golem-thing.

“Winky already gave Dobby first orb Old Mistress made,” Winky said before Dobby could do more than open his mouth. “Once we was sure that bad rat-man was not bringing anyone else into Wheezy wards, Dobby followed the magic back. Nasty-bad-wrong Dark Lord shade is being captured already.”

“Dobby was going to tell it,” Dobby protested.

“You is taking too long telling stories,” Winky said, flipping her fingers at Dobby in exactly that flirtatiously competent way that would drive any good, healthy elf mad with admiration. “Winky is telling it efficiently.”

Dobby staggered, hands clutched to his chest because how could he handle such beauty? From the smirk on Winky’s lips, she was doing it totally on purpose to keep Dobby from deciding that he was being in the lead for siring her next baby.

“Winky is so mean,” Dobby complained to Master Harry.

“She really kinda is,” Master Harry said with a grin of appreciation. “Have to admit, though, I think it’s pretty awesome.”

“So awesome,” Dobby agreed, wheezing a little while Winky preened.

Miss Grangy frowned at the three of them, one finger circling in the air as if she was doing magical math sums in her head. When she suddenly gasped and turned to Winky, Winky grinned.

“You two are flirting!” Miss Grangy said.

“Of course,” Dobby exclaimed before Winky could do more than open her mouth. “How could Dobby not being flirting? Winky is so elegant and beautiful, and her uniform is, is… It’s Continental! There is being lace! And ruffles!”

Miss Grangy pressed one hand over her mouth, but it didn’t do a thing to suppress her giggles.

“Master Harry was very clear that Winky was to have a nice uniform,” Winky said with a smug little wiggle of her hips that set the skirt to bouncing around her calves. “Winky has always being thinking that Continental uniforms are being the best. They is driving all the boys wild, you know. Mm-hm. Completely wild.”

Dobby whined and tugged at his ears as Miss Grangy laughed out loud. Off at Grimmauld place, Kreacher sighed wistfully, all full to the top with admiration for the lace on the hem of bloomers that draped just so around a well-turned ankle.

Then Kreacher ducked down into Magic as a whole host of girl elves huffed and shouted at him for sharing such shocking pornography in the middle of the Elf Stream in the middle of the day. When just anyone could hear it.

Dobby kept his appreciation for the lace on Winky’s bloomers draping around Winky’s very well-turned ankle firmly inside his own head. He was not being a fool.

“Flirting aside,” Master Harry said with a huge grin and laughter rolling through the Potter magic, “can we go back to the thing where you captured Voldemort’s shade in a crystal? Because I kind of think that’s important.”

“Is important,” Dobby agreed. “Master Harry has piece of nasty-bad-wrong Dark Lord. Winky’s old Mistress Crouch’s crystal had a piece. Kreacher has a nasty-bad-wrong locket with a piece, too. Dobby is thinking that is important to be finding all the pieces and then destroying them, but he is not being sure how to accomplish it.”

Winky snorted. “Winky is knowing how. Is not so very hard. Must have all the pieces together to be completely sure is done and done right, but is very easy. Need basilisk venom—”

“Dobby can get that from Chamber of Secrets,” Dobby commented.

“I have one of the fangs in my trunk, too,” Master Harry agreed.

Winky and Dobby frowned at him while Miss Grangy pursed her lips disapprovingly.

“Dumbledore gave it to me,” Master Harry protested. “It’s in a special bag. Thing. It’s spelled so that the venom won’t hurt anything.”

“Hm,” Dobby said, going to root through Master Harry’s trunk.

The bag was easy to find, tucked in a corner next to a neat stack of well-mended socks that had Winky’s magic all over them. Winky came over and sniffed at the bag disapprovingly. Dobby shook his head, too.

“Is not bad, Friend Harry,” Dobby said, putting the bag back into its spot. “But is not very secure, really. Too hard a bump and magics will be burned out by venom. Are better ways. Should ask Heir Bill about it.”

“This will be happening,” Winky said, still frowning at Master Harry. “But do not need to do it yet. Can keep that for other things, maybe, because another way, better way, is to be using very hot fires. Volcanos are good. Fiendfyre is good, too.”

She’d kept on working on her new crystal orb, which looked and felt very much like the original one. Not quite, though. Winky grimaced and then sighed.

“Master Harry should be asking Heir Bill to come up anyway,” Winky said, bouncing in place with frustration. “Winky knows what needs to be done on this, but there is tricksy bit that needs wizard magic. Heir Bill is very, very good at tricksy bits like this. Curse-breaker, like Old Mistress Crouch.”

“Dobby will go get him!” Dobby exclaimed.

He popped away, wheezing a little at the flounces and ruffles and lace of Winky’s Continental uniform bouncing around her so seductively. She was so mean. So very beautiful and efficient and mean!

Dobby really needed to up his game if he was going to be beating Kreacher to being Winky’s baby sire. But it would be so very worth it. So worth it!

Maybe he should be thinking of some different clothes than just socks, too, so he wasn’t looking too odd next to Winky’s amazing Continental uniform. Something practical. Something sturdy, easy to clean but powerful. With lots of pockets…

***

“You swore that it would be safe for Draco to go, Lucius! You swore!”

“Darling, how was I to know–!”

“You may not take your oaths serious, Lucius, but I do. I am a daughter of the Black family and I will not be disrespected this way!”

“Narcissa! Darling–! That’s not–! No! No, put down the vase. Not at my head! Damn it, Narcissa!”

“Why, whatever could be the problem, Lucius? I thought you liked dueling.”

“Narcissa!”

“Yes? Oh, do try it, darling. Go right ahead and raise your wand against me. Please.”

“I’m not… Here. My wand. Handle first, to you, my wife. It’s…”

“Not an apology or an explanation.”

“Fuck! Buggar! Narcissa!”

“You will explain how you allowed Draco to be running through the woods in the dark with Harry Bloody Potter while you and your “old friends” tried a bit of muggle baiting, Lucius. Or I will put a hex straight through your forehead and say that one of your “old friends” decided to muggle bait you.”

“…Barty Crouch Junior isn’t dead.”

“..What?”

“He’s not dead, Narcissa. Crouch had him imprisoned, probably with the Imperious. Had that elf of his wife’s taking care of Barty. Crouch got drunk like an idiot and lost control.”

“And Barty Crouch Junior was the one who put the Mark in the sky? Barty Crouch Junior was the one running around in robes and a mask, hm?”

“He’s the one who called everyone. He’s the one who set them on everyone. He didn’t have a wand so McNair put up the mark. I thought Draco was safe. Our tent was warded against everything that could come at it.”

“Except for a young boy’s curiosity and excitement. You left him alone, Lucius. You left our son alone and he ended up running through the chaos where he could have been killed. You left our son in danger. You left my son alone, in danger, because your Dark Lord is more important to you than me, our son, your entire family magic and your legacy in the world.”

“Narcissa…”

“Not again, Lucius. This is your last mistake. Endanger my son again and no one will ever find your corpse.”

5. To Find a Cure

Winky was glad that wizard boys weren’t as stupid as house elf boys when faced with a Continental uniform. While Heir Bill did raise both his eyebrows and whistle appreciatively at Winky’s new uniform, he didn’t lose his silly little mind.

That was good because Winky needed his mind to being working properly.

“Oh, a soul capture orb,” Heir Bill said. “Very nicely done, Winky.”

He’d sat down in the middle of Young Wheezy Ron’s bedroom floor with Winky, both of them studying the incomplete crystal she’d managed to craft. There was still being a lot of work needing to be done, but Winky was pretty sure it was more than three quarters finished. The tricksy bits needed to confuse the soul needed wizard or witch magic to really work, thus Winky asking for Heir Bill’s help.

“So you know what this is?” Miss Grangy asked from her spot on the bed next to Master Harry and the occlumency books.

“Oh, yes,” Heir Bill said, casually waving one hand. “They’re old magic, very powerful, mostly used for dealing with really malevolent ghosts. It takes a really skilled Curse Breaker to make them. Or, actually, a really skilled team. You need at least two people, usually of different races, to do it. Makes them much harder to break that way. I usually work with the goblins on them, of course, but properly trained house elves are very good at it, too.”

Winky nodded. “Winky was being Old Mistress Crouch’s assistant for the making of soul orbs before she was getting so sick and dying. Old Mistress Crouch left one behind. Dobby was using that one already.”

“He captured Voldemort’s shade in it,” Master Harry offered casually even though the Potter Magic snickered along with him as Heir Bill slowly went pale and wide-eyed.

“That was working perfectly,” Winky continued, patting Heir Bill’s hand reassuringly. “With Winky’s magic locking the pathways down, orb will be holding shade for at least a year. But is still fragment of soul being trapped in Master Harry’s scar and Kreacher is having a locket with another fragment. Seems to being locked into locket? Probably? Winky is not being sure. Will need to be figuring that out after we is getting the soul fragment out of Master Harry’s scar.”

Heir Bill slowly set down the incomplete soul orb as he licked his lips and then smoothed his hands over his thighs. He left sweaty patches on the fabric that Winky dried for him. Heir Bill was not noticing it, but that was fine. It was just a little bitty bit of magic and Winky had plenty from Master Harry and the Potter magic.

“This is like the stairs all over again,” Heir Bill said, shaking his head.

“A bit, yeah,” Master Harry said. “Sorry.”

Heir Bill laughed and shook his head. “Well, let me do the last bits on this and then I’ll do a thorough scan of you, Harry. I’d planned to ask to do one before everything happened last night. Ginny’s stories about last year were, ah, kind of worrying me.”

“Yeah,” Master Harry said as he cleared his throat and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “It got a bit dicey at times.”

Winky stared at Master Harry along with Miss Grangy who huffed and swatted his elbow just as she should. Boys. Always saying things like that when the situation is being as bad as it could possibly be. Master Harry went a bit red, but he just shrugged at Heir Bill who grinned at him and nodded.

“Boys,” Miss Grangy said, narrowing her eyes just right for a proper threatening stare at Heir Bill.

“I be knowing what you be saying, Miss Grangy,” Winky said, shaking her head at them. “I so be knowing.”

“Ahem,” Heir Bill said, coughing into his fist in an attempt to hide the fact that his cheeks had gone red. “Right. Let me get that scan done and we’ll see what we need to do.”

“Finish the soul orb first,” Miss Grangy ordered. “Winky asked very nicely.”

“Ah, right,” Heir Bill said.

He was blushing brightly as he fixed the fiddly complicated bits in the soul orb, but he was doing it very well indeed. Winky nodded her approval, adding her key-bits into the spells filling the orb, then Heir Bill added his bits. Three rounds of that and the orb settled into a nice dove-grey color with a good feel to it.

“Very good!” Winky exclaimed as she took the orb back. “Winky approves. Heir Bill has been studying very hard.”

Heir Bill preened a little bit, grinning. “Yes, I have. I’m glad that it’s up to snuff, Winky.”

“Mm! Winky is giving Heir Bill her certification,” Winky said. “If Winky is needing more soul orbs, she will be coming to Heir Bill.”

No surprise, Heir Bill’s mouth dropped open for that. Getting that certification from a house elf was being a very big deal. Mostly, wizards and witches who was wanting to be curse breakers who made soul orbs had to be working with goblins because so few house elves was being free enough to make them without their master’s approval.

Winky, though, had the training. She’d gotten her certification with Old Mistress Crouch back when Old Mistress Crouch was Young Miss Harrison, a single lady with very good looks and good prospects. Winky had been very proud to be her elf and even more proud when they earned their certifications together.

But Old Mistress Crouch was gone, so new partner for soul orbs was needed.

“That’s…” Heir Bill looked to Master Harry, frowning.

“We have an Old Bond,” Master Harry said. He waved a hand at Winky. “I already told Winky that I wanted to her to work on things that she enjoyed, things that make her happy.”

“Soul orbs is very good way of cleaning nasty-bad-wrong things out of family magic,” Winky agreed, nodding firmly. “Hoggywarts is needing about a dozen to be cleaning out some of the bad places. Dobby should not be needing to wrestle giant slugs out of the sewers every day.”

“…No, he really shouldn’t,” Heir Bill said, blinking rapidly. “Huh. I’ll discuss it with my bosses. Or, well, maybe I’ll just ask Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“You is not offering Winky’s work without proper payment,” Winky said, wagging a scolding finger at him. “Is very big deal. You is deserving proper payment for your work and Winky is deserving proper payment for hers, too.”

“What’s proper payment for a soul orb, Winky?” Master Harry asked.

“It be depending,” Winky said, grinning as both Kreacher and Dobby popped in to stare at her with hungry, wide eyes. “Since Winky is thinking of having babies, would be different than most of the time. Winky’s daughter Tilly is all grown up. She has to be thinking rationally about what would help with baby-raising, not just silly things like gold or silver, you know.”

Heir Bill had a hand over his mouth as Winky flipped her free hand at Kreacher and Dobby, even though Dobby had gotten rid of the silly socks. He had a new “uniform” that was almost nice enough for serious consideration.

His pants was being cargo pants, khaki ones, with pockets on the thighs and calves and front and back, too. The shirt was being almost Muggle, with roll-up sleeves held by a little strap and a button. There were pockets on the biceps, on the chest three deep with zippers and buttons and one that had a spot to hold a fountain pen. He’d even gotten a very nice river guide oilskin hat with a chin strap and snaps on the sides to hold the topstitched brim up.

It was being very rugged and dashing, Winky had to say, especially with Dobby’s scuffed-up steel toe work boots.

“Dobby is cheating,” Kreacher hissed before popping back out.

“Dobby is not cheating,” Dobby exclaimed with his biggest grin. “Dobby is just ready to work hard, that is all.”

He popped out again, all but doing a victory dance in the Elf Stream that Winky had liked his new uniform.

“Boys,” Winky said, again, to Miss Grangy.

Miss Grangy grinned. “It was a very nice hat, though. And I liked all the pockets.”

“Good solid boots, too,” Master Harry agreed, nodding and not quite succeeding at muffling his snickers. “Very good for wrestling giant magical slugs.”

“We is not listening to boys opinions unless they is liking boys, too,” Winky said, wagging her finger at Master Harry. “And Master Harry is just barely old enough to be thinking about such things. Heir Bill is casting his spells on Master Harry. We is needing to figure out this soul fragment problem right away, yes we is.”

“Absolutely,” Heir Bill said.

Which was probably a good thing because Master Harry went so very red at the idea of maybe, possibly, could be liking boys that Winky expected him to fall over and hide his face in the pillows. He didn’t. But only because Heir Bill pulled his wand and started casting the most complex of complex diagnostic spells on Master Harry.

Winky was not surprised by all the signs of abuse and malnutrition and sleep deprivation. As if the Potter Magic was not yelling about it all the time in the back of Winky’s head. She was already making plans for keeping Master Harry away from his rotten-no-good relatives. They was not being worthy of caring for Winky’s master.

The shining signs of Mistress Lily and Master James’ magic all over Master Harry was a bit of a surprise. It was being woven so deep into Master Harry’s own magic that it blended in almost perfectly. They was casting old, old rituals over Master Harry before they was dying, which was probably how the soul fragment was not hurting Master Harry.

“Father’s protection,” Winky commented.

“And Mother’s sacrifice,” Heir Bill agreed as he frowned at the overlay circling around their ritual bits. “Not sure how this ties in.”

“Mm, is very old Black magic,” Winky explained. “Godfather oaths, the oldest sort. Means that Master Harry’s Dogfather is being his third father, not just person designated in will. Is an Oath of the Old Style. Is maybe part of why Master Harry’s Dogfather is going so crazy. The Oath is poking him to be taking care of Master Harry and he is not being able to do it, even now.”

“Ah,” Heir Bill said, leaning closer to study all the runes. “Huh. I’ve only seen that in books. I didn’t think anyone knew how to do it anymore.”

“Pfft, wizards is so silly,” Winky said. “Is making the oath, with agreement from parents, over child who loves and is loved. There is being little ritual to it at all, just love and swearing and agreeing to being family. Should be asking the goblins or house elves about it. Or asking veelas. They is using old oaths like that lots and lots.”

“I definitely will,” Heir Bill said, eyes still on the diagnostics. “Well, the soul orb should trap the fragment, if we can get it out of Harry’s scar. Getting it out will be the hard part.”

Master Harry frowned. “I’m going to want to ask you a bunch more questions, Winky, but later. What do we need to get rid of the fragment, Bill?”

Heir Bill grimaced and shook his head. “If we didn’t want to keep the protections around you, it would be easy. But no way would I ever want to disturb these. Your parents and godfather went to great effort to wrap you in every bit of protection and love that they could. It should be preserved. I’m going to have to ask my bosses about this. I don’t have the experience with this kind of thing, sadly.”

“Is okay,” Winky said, patting Heir Bill’s hand. “You is still being young. You will being better as you is getting older.”

He did that stiff smile that young male wizards always did when they was thinking that Winky was slighting them. She was not, of course. Was not Heir Bill’s fault that he was not studying such things before. He was a good Wheezy and a good curse breaker. Now that he knew he was missing such knowledge, he would be seeking it out and learning.

Winky tucked the new soul orb into her corner of Master Harry’s trunk, huffing a little that it was just not being big enough inside for everything that was needing to go into it. That was a problem that was needing fixing, very soon even.

“So there’s nothing to do right now about it?” Master Harry asked.

“No, not a thing at the moment,” Heir Bill said. He transferred the information from his scans onto a piece of paper he pulled from his pocket.

Winky popped it out of his hand.

“Ah, Winky?” Heir Bill asked, staring at her.

“You was being given permission to cast the spells, Heir Bill,” Winky said as she fixed her very best Mother Knows What You’ve Been Up To stare on him. “You was not being given permission to take that anywhere else. Or to show anyone else. You is seeing all the secrets of Master Harry’s health, of his soul and his parents’ magic. If you is showing this to anyone else, they is knowing exactly how to be hurting Master Harry.”

Heir Bill opened his mouth to protest at first, but he shut it again and flinched as Winky continued. He rubbed the back of his neck, ruffling his ponytail and then tugging at the claw earring dangling from one ear.

Heir Bill sighed. “You’re right, Winky. Sorry. I tend to get in a rush and don’t necessarily remember to follow the rules.”

“Is very important rules,” Winky said, passing the paper to Master Harry who frowned at it and then slapped it to his chest so that Miss Grangy couldn’t read it over his shoulder. “You is not having babies with him, Miss Grangy. He is not asking when you is having your bleeding. You is not asking to see that record. Is just as private.”

Miss Grangy squeaked and slapped her hands over her mouth while blushing so hard that her hair started poofing up around her head in embarrassment.

Winky nodded firmly. “Master Harry, you is needing to give him permission to discuss this with anyone. Anyone at all.”

“Um, the bit about the soul fragment?” Master Harry said slowly. “You can tell Dumbledore and the goblins about that. I’d rather you not discuss it with anyone else without telling me first. And the rest, um, not without me knowing? Or being present? Approving whoever it was?”

“That’s fair,” Heir Bill agreed with a nod. He stood and brushed himself off. “Very fair, really. Send Winky if you need anything else. I’ll probably be out of the house working on this for the next day or two. I’ll let you know the instant I have anything useful.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Master Harry said.

Heir Bill ruffled Master Harry’s hair, smiled at Miss Grangy, and then headed back downstairs. Once the door was being shut again, Master Harry folded the piece of paper up and passed it to Winky who nodded and tucked it away into his too-small trunk.

“So why were you frowning at my trunk, Winky?” Master Harry asked.

“Is being much too small,” Winky explained. “There is no extra compartments, no expansion spells. No way to make featherlight, or shrink easy for Master Harry to move around with it. Is very solid trunk, yes, but very cheap. Not sure why Master Harry is choosing this one when could be having one much, much better.”

“Oh,” Master Harry said, blinking at the too-small trunk. “Well, I wasn’t sure how much money I really had, so I decided to go conservative on the trunk. It is kind of, um, small. And heavy.”

“Winky can being going to get you a better one,” Winky suggested. Firmly. “There is probably being better trunks in Master Harry’s vaults. Winky would be needing permission to go in there. Or she could be getting money and buying Master Harry one specifically for him. With security. So no one is getting into Master Harry’s business.”

“Now that I like,” Master Harry said with a grin at the way Hermione huffed at the sheer thought of it. “I mean, I don’t mind sharing some stuff with the guys in my dorm, but not everything. Neville is fine. He never roots around in anyone else’s trunks. But Ron and Dean and Seamus aren’t anywhere near as polite about it.”

Both Winky and Miss Grangy was making outraged noises at that, which was being the appropriate response to such shameless behavior. Winky was not being one to blame children for behaving poorly, not the first time they is doing it, but she was definitely side-eyeing their parents and nanny elves for allowing such thinkings and behavings to go on.

From the darkly outraged look on Miss Grangy’s face, she was being raised properly and was just as upset about Master Harry’s things not being private as Winky was.

“Harry, that’s not right,” Miss Grangy declared, seizing Master Harry’s hand and shaking it firmly as if she wanted to grab Master Harry by the shoulders and shake him instead. “I know you didn’t learn properly from your relatives, but seriously, they don’t have any right to be going through your trunk without your permission. We need to fix this right away!”

“Winky can be fixing it,” Winky reassured Master Harry when he went all reluctant and embarrassed in the Potter Magic, even though his face didn’t show it hardly at all. “And Winky will be fixing it, too, yes, she will. If Master Harry gives Winky permission, she can be going to the goblins and finding a better trunk for Master Harry. It can even be having a public compartment that Master Harry can be using for things he is not minding sharing with his dorm mates.”

“Oh,” Master Harry said, eyebrows going up. “Well, that would be fine. I mean, seriously, I don’t mind sharing some stuff. Just not everything, you know?”

“Winky is understanding this,” Winky said with a pat for his knee. “All house elves is aware of each other in magic. We is calling it the Elf Stream. But even we is not sharing every single thing with everyone else. There is being limits on what is proper to be sharing with others. Mhm!”

Both Master Harry and Miss Grangy grinned at Winky as if she was adorable. Which, of course, Winky was. How could she not be? She had a Continental uniform. But the looks was being just a bit over the top in Winky’s opinion.

Masters and mistresses. Always getting strange about the oddest things. Either way, Master Harry nodded after coughing into his hand a couple of times. The Potter Magic registered his permission as given, but goblins was being fussy, so Winky directed him to write the permission out. She had to be dictating exactly what it should be saying, just so that the goblins and Ministry didn’t be having a fit about a house elf having too much freedom.

As if Winky didn’t have an Old Bond that gave her all the best parts of being someone’s house elf along with all the best parts of being free, especially the bit about not going mad and dying as Winky’s magic ate itself.

“There you go, Winky,” Master Harry said once he finished the note and made sure that the ink was dry. “Let me know if anyone has any problems with you doing this. I’ll, um, I’ll talk to them, I guess.”

“Winky will be giving them a talking-to first,” Winky said, putting the note in her pocket where it would be safe. “They will be thinking twice about bothering her Master Harry. Now, Master Harry and Miss Grangy should be going and getting lunch. Is almost time. Make sure you is washing yous hands first. Winky is knowing how young boys and budding scholars are. Always with the messy fingers.”

Miss Grangy started out with a grin and then blushed brightly, whisking her hands behind her back so that no one could see the ink stains all over her fingers. The two of them hurried off to wash their hands properly, leaving Winky to put a nice elf ward over Master Harry’s trunk. It wasn’t as good as it should be, but it would be enough for the moment. Once she found Master Harry a proper trunk that had everything he needed, the old trunk could become something else. Maybe a warded room or something nice like that. She would be talking with Master Harry about it when they had a chance.

In the meantime, there was a trip to the goblins to be made, then vaults to check, and if that failed, a special trunk to be ordered. Winky doubted that it would come to that. The Potter family was old and must have many, many trunks in storage. It should be just a matter of picking which one would work best for Master Harry’s needs.

Maybe one with a nice private house inside. It was not usually possible to make true house in a trunk, but Master Harry should be having several properties that used to belong to his family. Making a pass-through gate through a trunk that let a master go to their warded estate untraceably was common. Yes, that would be good. Winky would be seeing what the goblins had in trunks and what Master Harry had in estates. There had to being a nice safe home for him to live in.

Because Winky was very aware that there was being many things wrong with the house he was being forced to live in. Even if he had to be spending part of his time there, a secret estate gate in his trunk would give Master Harry a nice safe home to retreat to and that was vital.

***

“What do you mean the boy has a horcrux in his scar?”

“I mean just that, Master Ragnok. He has an incomplete horcrux in his scar. There’s complicated sacrificial magic containing it and protecting him, but it’s there. His elf, Winky, has created a soul orb to capture the horcrux but, well, there are likely more horcruxes around. The piece he has is… very small.”

“…very small, you say?”

“Ah, yes. The math I’ve done indicates that it’s probably the seventh piece.”

“Bloody hell!”

“Worse, there’s no chance that Headmaster Dumbledore missed it. It must have been glaringly obvious when Harry was a baby.”

“Which means that the Headmaster has been playing his political games with human lives again. Damn his sparkly hide.”

“Exactly.”

“…What was that sigh for?”

“Um. Well. My… mother is of the opinion that no one should bother Harry with anything about this. She just about ordered me not to come talk to you about the whole situation. If Winky hadn’t instructed Harry on limiting my permissions for who and what I could discuss on his scan, she would have gotten the whole thing out of me and then forbidden me from talking about it at all with parental magic.”

“You’re a full adult wizard!”

“True, but still her offspring. And my father’s heir. She’d be in her right to order me not to discuss something that might cause my father problems. She, ah, does it quite frequently with the twins, Ron and Ginny, I’m afraid.”

“So you bolted and came straight to me.”

“Yeah. I’m sure she’s discussing what little I did tell her with Headmaster Dumbledore as we speak. I already know that Headmaster Dumbledore will insist on Harry being kept in the dark about it all. He’s done it before, especially in regards to the Potter estate and his family magic legacy.”

“That man is going to start a war. And not the one he thinks he’s going to ride to glory, either.”

“Great. All right, I need to go talk to my boss in the curse breaking department about the horcruxes. And… just a hunch, but you should probably run the detection spells to see if any are stashed in the bank somewhere.”

“I will be doing that as soon as you leave my office, Mr. Weasley. Go. Do what you need to. This must be dealt with and quickly.”

“Agreed, sir. Agreed.”

 

 

6. To Make a Home

Listening to a fight through the Elf Stream was nearly as nerve-wracking as being right in the middle of it. Dobby was not being a timid elf by any measurement, but Mistress Wheezy was not being a nice witch at all. She was being vicious and determined and so ruthlessly efficient that she would be making a very fine elf, but she was not exactly being good for his Great Harry Potter.

Poor Winky was being right in the middle of the fight, going toe to toe with Mistress Wheezy. If Dobby hadn’t already been head over heels for Winky, he would have been after this.

A few dozen earnest and heart-felt nods came through the Elf Stream from other elves old, young, male, female. Winky really was being the very best and most attractive elf around. There was being no doubt about that.

“You is not keeping secrets from my Master Harry!” Winky declared so loudly that the entire Burrow and the entire Elf Stream echoed with it. “This is being his life and his health and his is being entitled to know just what is happening to him!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mistress Wheezy screeched in a tone that threatened to break all the glass in the Burrow. “He’s a boy! He’s far too young–!”

“It is being his life!” Winky bellowed loudly enough to knock Mistress Wheezy right down into her rocking chair and then almost over backwards, too. “You is not his mother. You is never going to be his mother. His mother was wrapping her magic and her very soul around Master Harry! You is not replacing that or her!”

Of course, the problem with the whole fight was that it was being a total waste of time.

Dobby sighed as he popped silently in Dumbledore’s office, frowning at Dumbledore as he shook his head at the report that Heir Bill was giving to him. That was another problem that they was going to be having to fix, no doubt about it.

“So,” Heir Bill said entirely casually despite the way his magic vibrated with nerves, “I’ll be going to the Goblins to get their opinion on how to remove the horcrux. Or whatever it is. It’s clearly a soul fragment but it doesn’t have all the markers of a true horcrux. I’d say that he accidentally fractured his soul if that wasn’t so impossible.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to do that, Bill,” Dumbledore said with a sad sigh and artistically tragic look. “I’ve already researched the problem. I do have plans for dealing with it, but for the moment there’s nothing to be done.”

“…Nothing,” Heir Bill said, studying Dumbledore.

“I am sorry, but yes,” Dumbledore said while fiddling with his wand.

The very powerful, very old wand that he was wining from Grindelwald a very long time ago. Dobby narrowed his eyes and carefully reached with is magic to pull mail from Tippy. She shrugged and passed it over to Dobby who popped it right onto Dumbledore’s desk, between him and Heir Bill.

Both of them started.

“Ah, it seems I have work to do,” Dumbledore said, blinking at the stack that slowly started expanding over the top of Dumbledore’s desk, toppling over his glittery little devices and covering his candy dish with its lemon drops.

“I guess so,” Heir Bill said, abruptly amused. “If you’re sure about Harry?”

“I am, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said. His sad, wry little smile was almost convincing.

“All right then,” Heir Bill said. “I’d best get back to work. I’ll let you know if I learn anything else.”

Heir Bill went through the floo to Gringotts.

Dobby dropped even more mail on Dumbledore’s desk despite Tippy huffing at him.

And then he popped to his Great Harry Potter who was listening at the top of the stairs to Mistress Wheezy huffing and puffing as she extracted herself from the rocking chair so that she could have another round of fighting with Winky.

“Hey Dobby,” Master Harry whispered. “Any good news?”

“Winky is even more amazing than Dobby thought?” Dobby said after a thoughtful moment considering the question. “Oh! Dobby knows! Mistress Wheezy would make a very good elf. Very vicious, very efficient. Kind of scary.”

Master Harry stared at him. So did his Friend Ron and Miss Grangy.

Dobby shrugged. “It is being true.”

“Mate, I really don’t want to think about boy elves thinking my mum is hot,” Friend Ron said while making a face like he might be sick all down the stairs.

“Oh, not just boy elves,” Dobby said. “House elves is not limited to creating babies with just a boy and a girl. Can be any mixture as long as magic is strong, and the bearer is fierce.”

“I have so many questions,” Miss Grangy muttered, shaking her head. “So many questions.”

Master Harry grinned at Dobby, wrinkling his nose. “Ron’s room?”

Dobby nodded.

The two of them left Friend Ron and Miss Grangy at the top of the stairs so that they could being listening in to the rising fight going on below. Dobby was already knowing that Winky was being the one who would win, but it was looking like it was going to be a very long fight.

So he really kind of sort of had to confess.

Not that he was wanting to, but Winky had made it very, very clear that Dobby was to tell Master Harry. And since Dobby liked being sneaky about his Old Bond to Master Harry, telling Master Harry while everyone else in the Burrow was being busy covertly listening to Mistress Wheezy and Winky battling for Master Harry’s right to his own life, well, it was being the perfect time.

“What’s up?” Master Harry asked once the door was shut and Dobby checked for any sneaky listening spells or wards or hiding Animagus.

“You is remembering when you was helping Dobby get free from his old Master?” Dobby said as the tugged at the flaps on his many, many pockets.

“Mhm,” Master Harry agreed.

There was a spark of amusement in the Potter Magic that came right from Master Harry. It grew as Dobby stared at him, ears twitching and eyes narrowing. Master Harry slowly grinned at him, his amusement blooming into laughter that boomed in the Potter Magic even though Master Harry just snickered quietly into his hand.

“You is already knowing!” Dobby huffed. “Dobby was thinking that he was being sneaky and fooling you!”

Master Harry cackled, then pretended he was coughing into his hand. “Sorry, sorry. Yeah, I got it right about the moment you shoved me at Winky when Crouch gave her clothes. But it’s kind of cool that our bond’s all sneaky, you know? That means you can do stuff on the sly and no one will be able to pin it on me.”

“This is being very true,” Dobby said with a grin of his own. “Dobby has been spying for Master Harry. Dumbles is not going to be letting us take the soul fragment out of Master Harry’s scar. Mistress Wheezy is trying to keep you from knowing because Dumbles is saying that there is being nothing that can be done. Dumbles is very wrong about that. Dobby is thinking that Dumbles knows it is being wrong and is thinking of Master Harry as a tool, not as a person, which makes Dobby very mad at him.”

“Huh,” Master Harry said.

He stared out the window, tapping his fingers against his knee as he thought. The Potter Magic was full of angry grumbles, but it was not showing on Master Harry’s face. Which was cool. There was not being many wizards who could be having their magic doing one thing while they was doing another. It was being a very rare gift.

Usually learned from very bad life full of abuse, so, really, it was not being too much of a surprise that Master Harry was being good at it.

“All right then,” Master Harry said. “Winky said, thought, felt, I don’t know. She had this thing about making a home for me? Somewhere secret. Or a way to get to a home that’s secret. Or both.”

“Can be both,” Dobby agreed. “Homes can be made so secret they cannot being found except by those what is knowing about the home. And can be making a home which was known not-known. Master Harry’s parents was having that ward but they was betrayed by Secret Keeper. And-and there can being ways to make a gate to a home which is hidden and secret, made even more secret with the Fidelus ward, and then having the gate be secret which is hidden away somewhere. Is best if is anchored to a place, not in a trunk, but can be temporary-hidden in trunk and then attached this place. Even can be moved later to another place if needed.”

“All of that,” Master Harry said, pointing a finger at Winky. “I like all of that. With wards, too. You know, like what Hogwarts or Gringotts has. So that if someone does learn all the secrets they bounce up against the wards if they’re not allowed or specially invited. Can we do that?”

Dobby grinned. “We can be doing that, Master Harry! Dobby is going to the goblins and starting work on it right away. Master Harry should be going and making sad, disappointed faces at Mistress Wheezy for being so mean to his poor, defenseless little Winky who only just lost her family and has barely even a home and a master to care for.”

Master Harry’s magic cackled while he snickered into his hand, eyes dancing with amusement.

He waved Dobby off towards Gringotts, already heading for the door to the stairs. Dobby popped away, back to Hogwarts to be dropping more mail on Dumbledore’s desk just because it had all gone away, and he was still being mad at Dumbledore.

The Hogwarts elves snickered about it, especially since they was being able to say that no, they was not doing it and had no idea why it was being happening.

Dobby popped into Gringotts’s lobby, waiting his turn at the small elf desk off in one corner of the lobby. Elves and goblins had been agreeing for a very long time that there was being no need for elves to be waiting in the same lines as wizards and witches. It was always making the wizards and witches cranky to have to share a line with elves, and elves was getting faster service because elves was knowing what common courtesy was being.

The goblin on the elf desk frowned at Dobby’s clothes. “Yes?”

“Dobby is a Free Elf doing a favor for his friend the Great Harry Potter,” Dobby declared in a low enough tone that the witch passing by behind him didn’t even look his way. “He is needing to see the Potter Account Manager on Very Important Business. And then he is needing to drop more junk on Headmaster Dumbles desk. Is not properly buried yet.”

One of the goblin’s eyebrows went up at “Free Elf”. The other went up for “friend”. They both came back down for the junk mail as the goblin’s lips twitched into a very, very brief smile.

“Important business, indeed,” the goblin said. He wrote something on a small slip of paper, sending it off with a flash of magic. “You may pop directly to Silverclaw’s office. Return here if you need to access any other bank services.”

“Dobby will!” Dobby declared. “He is probably going to be having to go into vaults and root through things. Maybe even organize things! Is a very good day.”

“Indeed,” the goblin said with an approving little nod. “May your chosen tasks be overwhelming and complicated.”

“And may your enemies die drowning in their own blood while screaming in agony,” Dobby responded, grinning at the way the goblin’s eyes smiled at him.

He popped away directly. Dobby knew proper etiquette, after all. Goblins was liking efficiency as much as elves was. Chit chat was not for working times and this was working time for both goblins and for Dobby.

Silverclaw looked up from the papers neatly arranged on his desk to peer at Dobby. His poof of silver hair radiated out from his head like a dandelion gone to seed, while his long, sharp, very elegant and fine claws tapped twice on his desk. No sparks, which was being good. Dobby had important business so Silverclaw in a bad mood would be being bad.

“You have business from Harry Potter,” Silverclaw said with a flat enough tone that it was threatening disbelief.

“Dobby does,” Dobby said. “The Great Harry Potter is needing a safe place to live that Dumbles cannot be denying him. And a trunk which will not make Winky despair and rend her very pretty Continental uniform.”

Silverclaw’s eyebrows went up in sudden amusement. “We had heard that there might be an elf courtship in the offing.”

“Ohhhhh,” Dobby breathed, hands on his chest. “There is! There is! Winky is the best of elves. So ruthless, so efficient. So pragmatic! She is battling Dumbles and Mistress Wheezy for her Master Harry right now or she would being here herself. Dobby is honored to come and do this for her.”

“Hmm,” Silverclaw hummed while his lips curled in a smile that didn’t show his very sharp, scary teeth. “And the Black elf?”

Dobby huffed, flapping a hand even as Kreacher howled in outrage in the Elf Stream. “He is not being competition. He is wearing old pillowcase that is not being washed in years. No elf with a Continental uniform would be choosing Kreacher. He is not even taking proper care of his house or his lord. Winky is already approving of Dobby’s uniform. It is being practical and rugged. With lots of pockets.”

Tilly howled with laughter at Kreacher’s outraged spluttering and Winky’s laughter. But there were more than a few elves across the island who were nodding their agreement in the Elf Stream so Dobby was feeling very justified in his judgment of Kreacher.

“Very nice,” Silverclaw said, laughter in his magic if not in his voice. “I will require a service in return. Your Great Harry Potter has not answered Gringott’s requests for a discussion of his accounts.”

Dobby blinked, letting Master Harry feel his confusion through the Potter Magic. Pure rage from Master Harry washed back along with a picture in his head of Dumbledore and Mistress Wheezy shaking their head while keeping his mail from him.

Which was probably being very accurate, actually. Dobby huffed and shook his head.

“Dobby’s Great Harry Potter is not getting any mail from Gringotts,” Dobby replied, “but Dobby can certainly be taking letters to him. Or account books if Master Silverclaw is wanting. And then he is dropping so much junk mail on Dumbles desk that he cannot even be opening the door to his office.”

“…I believe that will be acceptable,” Silverclaw said. “And if you’re in need of more junk mail, Gringotts has a large supply that can be provided for oh, a one knut per metric ton fee.”

Silverclaw pulled three account books from a drawer. He topped it with a brief letter and then passed them over to Dobby who tucked them away into one of his pockets where they would be perfectly safe.

“Dobby is being a Free Elf,” Dobby declared, grinning at the way Silverclaw rolled his eyes, “and he is having pay. He is paying five knuts. He would like to be buying an appropriate amount of junk mail, please. Specially charmed so it cannot being vanished, perhaps?”

Silverclaw laughed. “That will be easy to arrange.”

The money changed hands. A little note flew off on Silverclaw’s magic. And then Dobby was given access to five lovely metric tons of junk mail that Dumbledore could not being vanishing easily. Not even elf magic would be making it go away easily once Dobby delivered it to Dumbledore’s office.

The rest of the discussion with Silverclaw was going very smoothly. There was being three places that Master Harry could create a Secret and Safe Home at. The cottage where he was being raised before his parents was being murdered was not a good choice, being as the Ministry was stealing it and making it into a monument. The Potter Estate was being decent, but it was being very muggle and a National Historic Register as a Very Important and Historic Property. That was just not good for being made secret.

Which left Potter Keep which was being perfect and nicely homey already. Dobby nodded his approval when Silverclaw let him feel the key to the Keep so that he could be testing the magic of the place.

“Is perfect,” Dobby said. “Dobby’s Great Harry Potter is wanting the very best wards on it as well as making it Unplottable and putting it under Fidelus. It is needing to beng made as secure as possible so that no one can being finding or hurting him.”

“Wise,” Silverclaw agreed, taking notes. “Doing so will take a bit of minor ward work, nothing too expensive or detailed. Have your Great Harry Potter send back a note requesting the following work, signed and dated. Anything else?”

“Mm,” Dobby said, reading over the list which was being exactly what they was discussing and nothing more. “There is needing to be provision for Winky to be creating a movable portal that only Dobby’s Great Harry Potter and his chosen ones can go through. It is not going to be permanently fixed anywheres yet but may someday when Dobby’s Great Harry Potter is all grown up.”

“Interesting,” Silverclaw said, snapping his fingers to take the note back. He made several amendments to the list before handing it back. “Just have him sign and date the bottom of this.”

“Efficient,” Dobby said approvingly. “Dobby will do so. Secretly, of course. It is being no one’s business but Master Silverclaw’s and Dobby’s Great Harry Potter’s.”

“Agreed.”

And that was that.

Dobby popped to the front desk, got access to Master Harry’s parent’s vault which was being surprisingly neat, all things being considered. No one was going into it for a long time, yes, but whoever was putting the last load of furniture and trunks and many, many books in was very organized. Almost elfishly organized, which was being nice even though Dobby felt no elf magic on the things.

He found three library trunks, good sturdy ones, which he used to gather all the nice books for Master Harry and his Miss Grangy. There was being six brooms, only three of which was being ridable, so Dobby took the three good ones. And then he searched through the regular trunks to find one that would meet everything that Winky was wanting.

About the time that Master Harry carried Winky up to Friend Ron’s room to “calm her down”, Dobby found a trunk that he thought was being just what Winky was wanting. It had an open section that Master Harry could put things he was being willing to share. It had a library section that was being very nice, enough to be holding five thousand books. There was being a section for all the clothes that Winky was making and another just for shoes.

Best of all, there was being a room, a blank, empty room that was not being used for anything at all. It had not been used for anything, at any time, which meant that room was perfect for Winky to create the portal to Master Harry’s Potter Keep, once it was being all fixed up.

“Winky is going to be choosing Dobby for sure!” Dobby shouted, punching the air in glee.

***

“Wait, what do you mean ‘you want clothes’?”

“Kreacher is not saying ‘clothes’! Kreacher is saying that he is wanting a new uniform. A proper Continental uniform.”

“…Oh, Merlin’s saggy balls…!”

“Sirius, are you all right?”

“My dear boy, we are in the middle of an Order meeting. Can you please focus?”

“No. No, no, no! You can all wait one bloody minute. Kreacher. Kreacher, I need you to be absolutely clear with me. No lying. No cheating. Nothing that could confuse me or twist the meaning of your words.”

“…Fine… Lord. Sirius.”

“Kreacher, as Lord Black and your master, I need you to tell me: are you planning on courting an elf?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck yes! And… Ohhhh! Oh, wow. Is there, is there… competition for that elf’s hand?”

“Yes! He is flaunting himself in ridiculous Australian Bush uniform. With hat. And pockets. And, and, and… steel-toed work boots! Lord Black, Kreacher is needing a Continental uniform!”

“Ohmygods!”

“Pads, you’re really starting to worry me.”

“Remus, you don’t understand! The last time there was an elf courtship, a contested elf courtship, there was. It was…! The chaos! Grandfather told stories about it when I was little. It was glorious! And now, now… I’m so proud, oh fuck, bloody hell! This is amazing!”

“It was chaos. Complete bloody chaos. And you’re going to encourage this, Black?”

“You’re damned right I am, Moody!”

“My dear boy, surely this can wait? We… there is no need to point your wand at me that way.”

“I am Lord Black dealing with a matter of Black house honor. I am not your ‘dear boy’, Albus Dumbledore, and I’ll thank you to remember whose house you’re in right now.”

“…Of course. My apologies.”

“Kreacher, you are hereby commanded to wear a Continental uniform with patent leather shoes, silk socks, tuxedo trousers, a waistcoat and swallow-tail coat over a formal tuxedo shirt, all in Black colors. Additionally!”

“Oh! Lord Black will…?”

“You will go to my office and get the Box of Honors.”

“…Remus, what’s a box of honors?”

“I don’t know, Tonks. I have no idea what’s happening right now.”

“Lord Black, the Box of Honors.”

“Oh, wow, that’s such a cute outfit! I love it. I’m sure your elf will love it too, Kreacher.”

“Tonks, shut up, please.”

“Sorry, Remus.”

“Kreacher, once you have restored Grimmauld Place to its proper majesty, including redecorating in a muted Gryffindor color scheme, you will be presented with this: the Time Keeper, to signify your place as the First Elf of the House of Black.”

“…Master Sirius is being a better Lord Black than Kreacher is ever dreaming could be possible…!”

“Master Harry’s Dogfather is cheating!”

“Dobby is supposed to be wrestling slimy slugs. He is Rugged. Not refined and First Elf of the House of Black.”

“Ohh! Dobby is so disappointed in Master Harry’s Dogfather!”

“…”

“This is the best day of my entire life! This is going to be awesome!”

“…”

“Seriously, does anyone know what’s going on or am I the only clueless one?”

 

 

7. To Find a Hole

Winky ignored the silly boys with their competition for her hand in favor of setting up Master Harry’s new trunck just the way she was liking it. If Winky was being honest, Dobby had been doing a fine job in picking the trunk. It had everything Winky needed, plus it was looking nicely older, a bit battered about the edges which should be helping keep nosy peoples out of Master Harry’s business.

There wasn’t much time for setting up the new trunk, sadly. Master Harry was going back to Hogwarts in the morning, which was why Winky was working through the night. The new clothes was all in place, nice and secure in their new compartment. Winky had found many new shoes for Master Harry in the Potter vaults, sixteen pairs of which Master Harry had provisionally approved pending charms to make them self-fitting.

Miss Grangy had firmly taken over the library trunks, which Master Harry was being fine with. Winky was not so fine with it, at least not until Miss Grangy explained the Dewy Decimal system. That was being a lovely system for organizing bookish things, so Winky had categorized and labeled all the books from the vault.

Miss Grangy had liked the catalogus spell. She had liked it very, very much. Winky was thinking that Miss Grangy would make a good librarian. Stern and bookish and very, very smart was being the perfect qualities for a librarian.

A nice strong catalogus was just as important, too.

Either way, all the special books that was not for outsiders was in Master Harry’s trunk. The three library trunks was designated for Books Which is to be Shared, Books Which is Very Out of Date, and Books Which is Good For Mischief.

The Mischief library trunk had already been stolen six times by the Wheezy twins. Winky had gotten it back each time and she would keep getting it back. Those tricksy twins was learning to ask politely first, one way or the other.

The gate to Potter Keep was the very last thing Winky set up in the trunk, all secret and hidden where only Master Harry could get at it. No one else was even being able to see the compartment. It was secure enough that Winky nodded approvingly once it was finished.

“Master Harry,” Winky whispered, waking him up. “It is being time.”

“Breakfast?” Master Harry mumbled as he fumbled his classes back onto his face. “Oh. Oh! Right. Let’s go.”

Master Harry snuck down into the secret compartment of his trunk while Winky made it look like he was still being in his bed, sound asleep. His friend Ron was not going to be waking even if someone, like the tricksy twins, dropped a bucket of water on his head, so Winky wasn’t worried about that. She was worried about stubborn Mistress Wheezy waking up in the middle of the night, or early morning as it was now, and coming down to make sure ‘her boys’ was being okay.

Her boys.

Master Harry was not being one of her boys. He was being one of Winky’s boys. Stubborn, rude Mistress Wheezy.

Potter Keep was still being dusty and covered in drop cloths, but that was being fine. Winky would take care of it while Master Harry was in class. The ritual room in the basement was being nice and clean. Silverclaw was there with Heir Bill and a small team of goblins who all nodded to Winky and then frowned at Master Harry.

“We is not having much time, Master Harry,” Winky said as she shooed him into the waiting circle. “Master Harry is sitting here. Winky is standing over here. Dobby is directly behind Master Harry. Silverclaw is to be moving outside of the circle right now! There is not being time for business chattings!”

Silverclaw smiled, a curl of his lips with an approving twinkle in his eyes. “Of course. I do have the Potter Ring.”

“Ah! Winky was forgetting it!” Winky gasped, utterly horrified by herself.

“This is your grandfather’s signet ring,” Silverclaw said as he gave Master Harry the powerful little ring with it’s many, many protective magics surging to get at Master Harry. “The curse breakers all agree that you should put it on before the ritual. It should help shield you and make the extraction easier.”

“I sure hope so,” Master Harry said. “I kind of want to be able to enjoy the Welcoming Feast for once.”

The ring settled onto his finger and around his magic as if it had been made specifically for Master Harry. It merged beautifully with the magics left over by his parents, enhancing the protection and further weakening the nasty-bad-wrong shard’s grip on him.

“Oh, that is helping so much,” Winky said, clapping her hands.

The ritual was not being a complicated one. Heir Bill had the soul orb that they had been making together. He stood off to the side of the circle with it, at the ready. The goblin curse breakers chanted their chants, wrapping even more protections around Master Harry, before they opened a path to the soul shard.

Then Heir Bill pressed the soul orb to Master Harry’s forehead and voop! The soul shard was being sucked right out, into the orb and Master Harry barely had time to do more than gritting his teeth and wincing for the cold of the orb.

“All done,” Heir Bill said, beaming at Master Harry.

“…That was it?” Master Harry asked as the goblins powered down their ritual circle. He was wavering a bit, wobbling where he sat, but Winky only felt a bit of a headache and some dizziness from him. “I was expecting more pain. A lot more screaming.”

“It is being amazing what you can be doing with the proper tools, the correct equipment, and properly trained workers,” Winky said as she helped Master Harry back to his feet. “You is going right back to bed, Master Harry. They is having much more work to do, but it is nothing that Master Harry needs to be part of. Dobby can be keeping track of it all for you.”

“Dobby will!” Dobby promised, preening a little when Winky glanced his way.

Boys. Really. As if Winky was ready to choose anytime soon. They was not showing themselves to their best yet and their magic was not being ready for making babies. Winky would just have to work them harder until they was being very ready, very ready indeed.

Dobby whined and deflated when Winky just eyed him narrowly. But that was fine. He would being busy with the soul orb while Winky was finishing the final preparations for the trip tomorrow and Master Harry was sleeping his poor headache off.

Winky spent the whole trip to Hogwarts charming shoes so that they would being comfortable, automatically size to fit Master Harry’s feet, and waterproof. She was not being a fool. She had raised boys before. All those shoes was going to be going into puddles and tromping through mud and who knew what else?

It was what growing boys did, after all.

The other elves at Hogwarts welcomed Winky warmly, especially Tilly who gave Winky her best ‘Momma is back!’ hug, the one that knocked them both to the floor as they laughed and rolled around in each other’s arms together.

Master Harry’s trunk settled perfectly at the foot of his bed, and, to Winky’s delight, Hogwarts was being quietly delighted that there was being a link to a Home in it once more. Why it had been several generations since children was being able to go home and get hugs and love and advice from their parents was not being something that Hogwarts knew.

Winky wasn’t understanding it anymore than Hogwarts was. Children needed their parents. Being away all the time was not being good for them, but wizards and witches meddled in things they should not all the time.

Personally, Winky was being pretty sure that this was a rule made by a wizard. One who had never, ever had a family or children. It felt that way, yes, it did.

While Master Harry ate at the Welcoming Feast, Winky went to Potter Keep to be making sure everything was straightened up properly. The goblins had done very good work on the wards. They was being nice and strong now. Once Master Harry was linked into them, no one would be getting into Potter Keep, no matter what.

That could happen after the feast, after everyone was going to sleep. If Winky had her way, there would be a decoy in Master Harry’s bed every night. That way he could be sleeping, nice and safe, in his own Keep behind the best wards, best Fidelus, best everything to keep him safe-safe-safe.

“Ah, you’re back,” Silverclaw said when Winky popped into the Floo room. “Good. We have an issue.”

“Winky is not liking issues,” Winky said, glaring at the so-pretty and so-sure of himself Silverclaw. “Master Harry was to be having a nice safe home, not issues with his home.”

Silverclaw smiled, a perfect little curl of his lips as he lifted his chin which set his puff of hair waving around his head. Very sure of his attractiveness, this one. Well, that was fine. Winky knew she was the Most Beautiful and Desirable Elf on the Island, so they were being very well matched that way.

“The issue is not with Potter Keep,” Silverclaw said as he so casually gestured towards the blackened soul orb sitting on the hearth next to Silverclaw. His claws gleamed in the light of the fire, showing them off just the same way Winky always showed off her long ears and now her ankles under her bloomers and Continental uniform. “It is with the remnants of You-Know-Who.”

“Winky does know who,” Winky said, frowning at the orb. “We is not done gathering bits up?”

“I’m afraid not,” Silverclaw said. He glowered at the orb. “Given the information we’ve gathered and the calculations we’ve done, there are three other pieces which appear to have been invested in inanimate objects. Rather like the locket your suitor Kreacher brought from Grimmauld Place.”

Winky huffed. “Wizards. Always with the making things more complicated than they is needing to be. Very well. Winky will be working her boys to find the other pieces. When is we setting the Fidelus? Master Harry should be sleeping here, not at Hoggywarts.”

“As soon as he’s available for the ritual,” Silverclaw said, wiggling a little to settle more comfortably by the floo. “That’s why I’m still here. Bring him as soon as you can. I’ll set the final bits of the Fidelus, and then leave.”

“Good,” Winky said. “I is getting to cleaning. This place is very dusty. Not good for Master Harry this way.”

“Quite so,” Silverclaw agreed.

They shared a short, sharp nod, then Winky popped off to make sure that Potter Keep was up to the standards Winky set. It was not being hard work, really. Just lots of dust and dust clothes, plenty of linens to be freshened, and laying in of proper soap and Sleekeazy potion so that Master Harry’s hair would be stopping looking like such a mess.

By the time she was done with the cleaning and laying in of supplies, Master Harry was done with the feast and had come upstairs to be chatting and gossiping with his friends about everything they had been doing over the summer.

Master Harry said not one word about Winky or their Old Bond.

Which Winky frowned a little over until she was realizing that Master Harry was not offering anything at all about his summer. Not about his awful-no-good relatives who was being abusive and not feeding him. Not about watching the scary-silly Quidditch game. Not even about staying with Mistress Wheezy and the Burrow.

He was bright and encouraging, asking many questions and being properly amazed or dismayed at the stories his friends was telling. But he was not offering any stories of his own. When his Friend Ron and Miss Grangy talked about the mess after the scary-silly Quidditch game, Master Harry confirmed it.

But that was being all.

“Right,” Master Harry said as Winky frowned even harder. “I’m exhausted, guys. I’m heading to bed.”

“Awww, come on, mate,” Friend Ron groaned. “It’s not even that late.”

“Yeah, I know,” Master Harry said with a wry smile. “Don’t mind me. I didn’t sleep that well last night. Too excited about getting back. Stay up as long as you like. Bill helped me figure out a better silencing spell for my curtains so you shouldn’t wake me up when you come to bed.”

Master Harry endured, endured! Backslaps and good night calls from the other children. He pretended to trudge up the stairs, but as soon as he was seeing that no one was on the stairs, Master Harry ran up them silently. He was down into the trunk and to Potter Keep almost as quick as if he’d been an elf and popped there.

“Winky is having a very serious talk with Master Harry about sharing,” Winky scolded him once he arrived. “But not until we is done with the Fidelus. You is sure about not letting anyone to be knowing the secret?”

“Not yet,” Master Harry said, grinning at Winky while wrinkling her nose as if he thought her worries were cute. “Just you, me, Dobby and Silverclaw for now. I’ll add people on a case-by-case basis later. For now, I want Potter Keep to be my hide-out from everything and everyone, the one place where I could retreat, and no one could find me.”

“Very wise, Mister Potter,” Silverclaw said from his spot next to the floo. “It is always wise to have a totally secure place to retreat to in extremis. I only hope that you will not need to use it that way.”

“Ever,” Master Harry said with a firm nod. He gestured towards the soul orb. “I felt your discussion with Winky about Voldemort. Is there anything that we should be doing on that right now?”

“I am afraid not,” Silverclaw said as he stood and brushed himself off, claws glinting in the light of the floo. “Our curse breaker division is doing a great deal more testing on the parts we already have. With sufficient preparation, we should be able to locate the missing pieces. There are indications that one might, might, be at Hogwarts. If so, it’s very securely hidden in a well-shielded room that very few have access to.”

“Hmm,” Winky said as Tilly popped in to frown at Silverclaw in offense. “Tilly is looking?”

“Tilly is sure there is many Dark-bad-wrong things hidden at Hoggywarts,” Tilly said. “But not like that. Is only two places could be hiding. Either is hiding in Chamber of Secrets, which we know is not happening, or is hiding in Come-And-Go room. That is being very, very, very messy. Would be a challenge to be finding something particular in there.”

Master Harry hummed thoughtfully though his magic glimmered with amusement. “That sounds like a great job for Dobby, don’t you think, Winky? Nice big project, potentially dangerous Dark objects, very important needle to find in a very big haystack.”

Dobby popped in to stare up at Master Harry with stars in his eyes. “Master Harry is the best Master ever!”

“Winky agrees,” Winky said. “And yes, is very good project for Dobby. Better than wrestling slugs in sewers.”

“That is needing to be fixed,” Tilly said to Silverclaw who frowned at Tilly as if she was not supposed to being there. “Oh, you shush, you sexy goblin, you. Tilly is with her Momma and Hoggywarts is very, very happy about the gate here. All the Hoggywarts elves is happy to be helping here. And, since is Tilly’s Momma who is Master Harry’s Elf, we is all keeping Winky’s secrets like they is being our secrets. Because they is our secrets, too.”

Silverclaw relaxed a little though he was huffing at being called a sexy goblin. As if he was not very very proud of being the Most Sexy and Attractive Goblin of All. Winky knew better than that. They was too much alike not to be understanding each other very well indeed.

To Winky’s surprise, Master Harry just grinned as if he was liking all the teasing back and forth. He was not joining in, but his magic hummed with his joy at seeing it.

Huh. Maybe that was being why he was not joining in the telling of stories in the Gryffindor common room. He was liking listening more than telling stories.

If so, that was being fine. Winky was still going to be having a long talk with Master Harry about making and keeping friends, but it was less important if it was just that Master Harry liked being in the background instead of out in front with everyone else.

“So, how do we do the Fidelus?” Master Harry asked. He nodded when Tilly bobbed a curtsey and then popped back to Hogwarts.

“Very simply,” Silverclaw said. “The warders already have it set up. You are firm that you want me to be your Secret Keeper?”

“Yes,” Master Harry said. “Bill trusts you. Winky and Dobby trust you. You’ve worked with the Potter family for generations. That’s good enough for me. I’m hopeful that it’ll be a short-term thing so that you won’t have the weight of it for long, but at least until I’m out of school, I’d like to keep this place secret. You know, while having another house to officially live in during the summers.”

“Easily arranged,” Silverclaw said.

The spell was just needing a little bit of Master Harry’s magic and then Silverclaw was saying the last few words. Winky and Dobby both rocked as they could feel the Fidelus pulling knowledge of Master Harry’s private hidey-hole of a home from their minds. Master Harry swayed, clutching their shoulders.

“Potter’s Keep is the secret redoubt and home of Harry James Potter,” Silverclaw declared.

Winky gasped. Dobby whistled. Master Harry huffed and then sat down abruptly on the floor in front of the floo.

“Wow, that packs a punch,” Master Harry said. “Thank you, Silverclaw. Don’t give the secret to anyone else unless I tell you personally. I mean that. Not even through Winky or Dobby or in writing, only if I personally tell you to add someone.”

“So mote it be,” Silverclaw declared, magic swirling around him as he took that Oath. “Enjoy your new Home. I must be back to Gringotts. Don’t hesitate to send either of your Elves if you need anything. I’m at your service at any time.”

“I’ll try to keep it between banking hours,” Master Harry said with another wrinkle-nose grin. “I’m sure you have a life of your own and other clients to tend to. May your… what was it again?”

“Gold ever flow freely, and enemies die screaming under yous claws, Master Harry,” Winky finished for him.

“Right. May your gold ever flow freely, and your enemies die screaming under your claws, Silverclaw,” Master Harry repeated.

Not with the proper emphasis and verve, but he was being young and not understanding such things yet. Winky would be teaching him over time. It would being fine once he was being grown up.

“May your enemies stumble in darkness and confusion as you rob them blind, Mister Potter,” Silverclaw replied with all the right meanings behind his words.

He marched right through the floo, leaving the three of them alone in Master Harry’s very nice Keep.

“Wow,” Master Harry breathed, tears welling up in his eyes. “I can’t believe I have my own home. Where I can be safe. No one can get me here?”

“No one is even remembering Potter Keep is existing,” Winky said. She patted his hand and then chivvied him and Dobby into the kitchen where she was making hot chocolate for all three of them. “Yous bed is looking like you is sleeping. Tilly is putting the double there and is putting silence spells on the curtains. Yous can be sleeping here tonight. We can be waking you a little early in the morning, then yous can be sneaking back to Hoggywarts.”

“That sounds perfect,” Master Harry said as he sipped his hot chocolate, poking at the tiny marshmallows with one fingertip. “I do want a tour, first. I mean, if there’s a library, I’d love to see it. And look at the land around the Keep. I won’t have much time to explore, but maybe we can take an hour every night to just… poke around together?”

Winky smiled as Dobby danced in excitement. “We can be doing that, Master Harry. We can be doing all of that. Once you is finishing yous hot chocolate.”

***

“Ron. You shouldn’t be rifling through Harry’s trunk that way.”

“Oh, come on, Neville. Harry doesn’t mind. He said outright that I could. I can’t believe the twins spelled my soap to turn me blue.”

“Wouldn’t they have done that to Harry’s things, too?”

“Yeah, no. Winky’s fierce. You shoulda heard her fighting with Mum. They were screaming at each other and all but throwing stuff across the room. Winky made sure the twins knew that if they messed with Harry’s stuff, she’d be making sure that all their potions failed, their charms blew up and their trousers fell down whenever they were talking to someone they wanted to court.”

“…No, really?”

“Yeah, it was awesome! Ha! There it is. Man, this new trunk is cool. I mean, Winky warned me pretty firmly not to poke in the other compartments. There’s one for clothes. She made like an entire store’s worth for Harry. And some for me and Ginny, the twins and Bill. Shoes, too. He’s got a whole compartment full of shoes.”

“You don’t sound too jealous.”

“Oh, shove it, Neville. I mean, seriously? Have you noticed his trainers?”

“Ah. Yeah. I just thought he, you know, like broken in shoes.”

“No, that’s down to his awful relatives. They only give him broken-down hand-me-downs from his cousin and he’s like Goyle’s size. It’s ridiculous. So yeah, Winky went through the Potter vaults and brought back every pair of shoes. I’m pretty sure she’s going to insist he wears every single one of them, even though some of them are easily three or four hundred years old.”

“Oh, no…!”

“…”

“…”

“We can’t laugh at his shoes, Ron. We can’t. We. It’s just. Really?”

“I know, I know! I’m gonna die, but I don’t want Winky mad at me. Anyway, I’m off to shower again. Hopefully this’ll take the blue off. I’m glad I realized before it was more than my hands turning blue.”

“Good luck. Night.”

“Yeah, yeah. Night.”

“…Tilly is getting Momma to seal Master Harry’s trunk so no one can be getting into it at all. Rude boy is rude!”

“Rude boy is also blue more places than just his hands.”

“…Dobby is checking?”

“Dobby is. Is very private place so Dobby is not taking pictures, but is definitely more than just hands.”

“…Tilly should not be laughing. Dobby is getting back to his Master Harry. Tilly will be guarding trunk until Tilly’s Momma’s Master comes back.”

“Thank you!”

 

 

8. To Hide a Secret

It was being a truism in Dobby’s life that Dumbledore was not being reliable. He was being a very great man, yes, but he was not being reliable. There was being too many jobs that Dumbledore had accepted and not enough time for him to be doing them properly. That was one thing when one was being an elf. It was another thing when one was being a wizard.

Elves was getting more powerful from too much work and not enough time. Magic flowed into them and was making them better and stronger and smarter and prettier, just like Winky.

Wizards was making mistakes and missing things and making things worse when they was having too much.

Dumbledore was having about four jobs too much from what Dobby was thinking.

Of course, Dumbledore being too busy was making it easier for Dobby to be doing things he should not, officially, be doing. Like poking in Crazy-Eye Moody’s suite. Which was not being warded anywhere near as strongly as Dobby had been expecting. It had been many, many years since Dobby was interacting with Crazy-Eye Moody for his old Bad Master Malfoy, but that many wards and charms and protective curses was making an impression on a body.

This so-called Moody who was to be teaching Defense was very clearly not the real Crazy-Eye Moody. For one thing, he was not yelling ‘Eternal Vigilance’ anywhere near enough. For another, whenever there was being no students near him, he was muttering under his breath about brats and in his day with threats that was being very like the ones that Master Filch always was muttering.

And there was the Polyjuice potion, too. Dobby couldn’t be forgetting that.

Of course, given that there was being Polyjuice, the real Crazy-Eye Moody had to be hiding away somewhere in his quarters. Dobby kept poking at boxes and shelves and books, only finally coming to the very carefully and thoroughly warded trunk that was sitting at the end of the barely slept-in bed.

Huh.

“Tilly?” Dobby asked.

“What can Tilly be doing for one of Momma’s boys?” Tilly asked with a huge grin at the way Dobby blushed mint-green and danced with embarrassment.

“This is not being time for teasing!” Dobby protested. “Dobby is looking at this trunk. The Crazy-Eye Moody out teaching is obviously not the real Crazy-Eye.”

“Oh, yes, obviously,” Tilly agreed. “He is drinking way too much Polyjuice for that. Is going to be giving himself tummy issues if he is living on it for too long.”

“That,” Dobby agreed. “But this trunk is being the only place Dobby can find that might be hiding place for real Crazy-Eye Moody. Dobby cannot be opening it. He is not really and actually a Hogwarts elf.”

“Tilly is,” Tilly said, resting her chin on one fist while tapping her elbow with the fingers of her other hand. “But Tilly is not having permission to be opening teacher’s trunks.”

“True!” Dobby said. “But Dobby is sure, absolutely sure, that there is a threat to the students tied to this trunk. Especially to his Great Harry Potter. And Winky is Not Happy about Crazy-Eye Moody. That is why Dobby is sneaking about, you know, instead of working on the Come-and-Go Room.”

Tilly blinked several times and then straightened up with a grin. “Oh, is for Momma! Okay, then. Tilly is always able to do things for Momma. You is not being visible. Tilly will be opening the trunk and seeing what is inside. Then Tilly will “call” for Dobby to come help with it. And then it will be Dobby’s task to take care of real Crazy-Eye Moody.”

Dobby nodded firmly.

“Very good plan,” Dobby agreed as he went invisible.

It went just like that. Tilly was opening the trunk and then gasping at the sight of a very angry, very disheveled Crazy-Eye Moody who was lacking his peg-leg and magic eye. She was promptly “calling” for Dobby since he was a fierce Free Elf who was Courting and thus much stronger than normal.

“Oh, that is not being good,” Dobby said, blinking down at Crazy-Eye Moody without his eye. “You is not looking right at all without yous eye. Why is you not practicing yous eternal vigilance? Who was getting the drop on you?”

“Never you mind,” Crazy-Eye Moody snapped once Dobby levitated him out of the trunk and set him on the bed. “Get Albus. Corban Yaxley is out there pretending to be me right this instant.”

“What?” Dobby squawked. “But Dobby’s Great Harry Potter is in Defense Class right now!”

“Merlin’s balls,” Moody snarled. “Where the fuck is my wand holster? And my leg?”

Dobby popped straight to the Defense classroom where Corban Yaxley was pretending to be Crazy-Eye Moody, complete with stomping around and scaring the students as he was talking about the Unforgivables.

“You is not hurting the Great Harry Potter!” Dobby shouted.

He used his magic to rip the wand holster off of Corban Yaxley’s arm, then yanked the peg leg off his fake stump, and followed that up by grabbing the magic eye to steal that too. All the kids was yelling and running away, but Master Harry was glancing back in concern as he darted out of the room with Friend Ron and Miss Grangy by his sides.

Dobby popped back to the real Crazy-Eye Moody so he could be having his things back.

Then Dobby was getting out of the way, oh yes, he was.

It was kind of surprising just how fast an old man on a peg leg could be running. He made it to the Defense classroom just about the time that Dumbledore arrived with a couple of the other students who looked terrified and very, very confused.

“Alastor?” Dumbledore breathed.

“Stay back!” Crazy-Eye Moody shouted as he shoved the Defense door open and then started firing spells into the room like the crazy man he was.

What surprised Dobby was that Corban Yaxley was not portkeying away. It was not being easy to do in Hogwarts, yes, but should have been possible if he had been putting enough power into the portkey. Dobby would have expected a Death Eater in the heart of Dumbledore’s power to have a really, really, really powerful portkey.

“Tilly was making sure he is not able to activate it,” Tilly giggled into the Elf Stream. “Hoggywarts was helping.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Dobby said as he stood in front of Master Harry, Friend Ron and Miss Grangy with his arms spread and a nice ferocious glare on his face. “Dobby is thanking you!”

“Alastor, what in the world–?” Dumbledore asked.

“You!” Crazy-Eye Moody snarled. “What have you done to the wards? You should’ve known that I’d been replaced. A known Death Eater waltzes into Hogwarts, stuns and replaces one of your professors and you don’t have a single clue?”

Fortunately for Dobby, Mistress Kitty arrived to shoo all the children away. Not too long after that, Mistress Bones showed up with Aurors to take Corban Yaxley away. They was arriving just as the Polyjuice faded, leaving everyone but Crazy-Eye Moody horrified at just who had been getting ready to teach the students.

There was being lots and lots of yelling about that, which Dobby gladly ignored in favor of working on the Come-and-Go Room. He had made a nice pile of broken chairs that was up to the ceiling before Madame Bones was calling for Dobby.

“Mistress calls for Dobby?” Dobby said as soon as he popped in with his bush hat set at a properly jaunty angle.

“Ah, that’s…” Mistress Bones stared at Dobby’s uniform.

“Dobby is courting!” Dobby exclaimed. “His uniform is very dashing. Dobby has many pockets to keep all his things for completing tasks. He is proactive!”

“Courting…” Mistress Bones said as she raised a shaking hand to her throat. “Really? That’s. New. And is it, by any chance, contested?”

“Augh, yes!” Dobby wailed, falling to his knees to tug on his ears. “Kreacher is trying to beat Dobby. His no-good master Lord Black has been giving him Continental uniform. With a swallow-coat jacket and patent leather shoes! It is not being fair, but Dobby will win the beautiful Winky’s hand yet. He will be showing everyone, especially Winky, that he is the best at cleaning and fixing and protecting her Great Harry Potter!”

“That,” Mistress Bones said, cutting through Dobby’s wailing with a beautifully sharp word and a single finger stabbed in his direction. “Protecting Harry Potter. From what?”

“Winky was being concerned,” Dobby explained earnestly. “Crazy-Eye Moody is not feeling like Crazy-Eye Moody. She is working with him many, many times when she was being a Crouch elf. But she is taking care of her Master Harry Potter, so she is not able to be checking out what is going on. So Dobby is taking care of it for her, especially after Winky’s daughter Tilly is finding real Crazy-Eye Moody in his own trunk without his wands or his eye or his peg leg.”

It took about six rounds of questions and very detailed answers before Mistress Bones was being satisfied that she had the chain of events clear. To be keeping her from realizing that Dobby was not exactly telling the truth, he was always expounding on how amazing and beautiful Winky was. It was not being hard, after all.

Winky really was that amazing and beautiful and efficient and drop-dead sexy in her Continental Uniform.

Eventually, though, Dobby was being allowed to go back to work so that the witches and wizards could work out what was to be happening with Corban Yaxley. Though it was being a pretty foregone conclusion there. He was going to be going to trial and then would be sent to Azkaban, obviously.

Except, oddly, Dumbledore was not acting like he thought that was being a good idea. All through the meetings and the yellings and the hauling off of Corban Yaxley, Dumbledore was talking about forgiveness and no harm being done, even right to Crazy-Eye Moody’s face.

Crazy-Eye Moody, being crazy, promptly shoved his wand in Dumbledore’s face while yelling about suspecting that Dumbledore was not really being Dumbledore.

That was being exciting enough that all the elves was hiding in the Elf Stream until Mistress Kitty was getting everyone calmed down, out of Dumbledore’s office and things back on an even keel. For a witch, Mistress Kitty was almost being elf-like in her practicality. It was being very nice.

Of course, Dobby was only just getting to the fixing of all the chairs he’d found so that they could be taken back into use by the other elves when he was being interrupted by a call from Silverclaw.

“Silverclaw is calling Dobby?” Dobby said as soon as he popped into Silverclaw’s office. “What can Dobby be doing for Silverclaw?”

Silverclaw sighed, tapping his very shiny, very sharp claws against his desktop. Sparks flew, though none of them was falling on the paperwork on his desk so he was obviously not being that angry. Just peeved instead of cut someone’s throat angry.

“I’m afraid that we have an issue,” Silverclaw said. “In the process of straightening out Mister Potter’s estate, I discovered that there are several prophecies about him. One is in the Ministry. It is very likely that is what is driving both You-Know-Who and Dumbledore’s behavior. Our Seers have several as well, though.”

“Oh, that is not being good,” Dobby said, biting his lip. “Goblin Seers is being very powerful.”

“Exactly,” Silverclaw agreed. “I will require your assistance on sorting through which elements have already happened so that we can predict what yet needs to be done.”

“Dobby is happy to help with that,” Dobby said, getting a firm nod of approval through the Elf Stream from Winky and a more worried nod from Master Harry who was nervous about the idea of prophecies but also curious.

The Ministry prophecy was being one of the self-fulfilling ones that no one was having to do anything about. Dobby and Silverclaw ignored that one. The Goblin Seer ones was being much more specific.

“This is already being done,” Dobby said about the one with the parents soul magic sacrificed to protect the son’s magic and soul. “That was being done long ago.”

“Agreed,” Silverclaw said. “Though it is fascinating that it was both parents.”

“Oh, sure,” Dobby said with a casual wave of his hand. “Is very clear in Master Harry’s magic. They was wrapping all their magics around him. Is very warm and very nice. Master Harry is lucky to be carrying his parents magic with him always.”

“Indeed,” Silverclaw said.

Dobby really didn’t think he’d earned the stern little frown Silverclaw leveled on him. Heir Bill had already pointed that out. If Silverclaw was not paying attention to the reports he was getting, that was not being Dobby’s problem.

The second prophecy was all about Old Bonds to elves. Dobby frowned at it.

“Dobby is not thinking this one is finished,” Dobby said finally. “It is talking about many. Two is not many. Dobby is not knowing why Master Harry would be needing many Old Bonds to many elves, but it must not being done yet.”

“Noted,” Silverclaw said, doing just that. “The third is potentially finished. I’m not sure, though.”

Dobby read it over and then nodded. “Oh, sure. Is being done. Master Harry is claiming a Home of his very own and hiding it away through a secret tunnel between Here and There. This part about shielded by old fortress is Hoggywarts. She is very happy to have a gate to a Home, so she is hiding it very, very thoroughly. No one is seeing it unless Master Harry is wanting them to.”

“Good, good,” Silverclaw said as he noted that down, too. “Excellent. That means the only issue we really need to be aware of is the house elf one. Odd that he would need more than two. Or that he could carry the bonds of more than that.”

“No, is easy for wizard or witch to carry Old Bonds,” Dobby said. “Master Harry could be carrying as many as a dozen if he was needing that many elves. Dobby is just confused what Master Harry might be needing so many elves for. Is very curious.”

“It is, indeed,” Silverclaw said. “All right. We’ll leave that one to work itself out over time. In the meantime, have you located any more horcruxes?”

“Dobby is going through the Come-and-Go room,” Dobby said, shaking his head and pushing his bush hat back a bit. “He is not finding it yet. There is being so much stuff that is needing repairs and other work. It is seeming more efficient to remove all the broken things first. Then Dobby can be fixing them and the Hoggywarts elves can be putting them back into use. Then he is going to be gathering all the lost things and finding homes for them. That should be taking down the mess by half or more. Will be making it much easier to be finding the dark nasty-bad-wrong things like the horcrux.”

“A sound plan,” Silverclaw said. “Let us know if you need any assistance in disposing of anything that can’t be put back to use or repatriated to its original owners or their heirs.”

“Dobby will,” Dobby promised.

Finally, finally, finally, Dobby was being able to get back to work after that. He got all the chairs dealt with, then the smaller stack of broken desks. There was being one half of a Vanishing Cabinet that was being very broken. Dobby took that right to Silverclaw for the goblins to deal with. He was not being good enough at repairs to be fixing something like that.

Then there were broken mirrors and magical combs with missing teeth and so many magical boxes with broken latches and hinges that Dobby almost threw his hands up in dismay. Fixing all of those was going to be taking forever.

Dobby huffed at the huge pile of broken boxes and set off to gather all the nasty Dark magic tainted things in the Come-and-Go room. There was being a pretty sizable number for Hogwarts, given that Hogwarts was being supposed to have wards to keep Dark things out. He was about halfway through the Come-and-Go room when he was finding a diadem on a silly bust that was feeling just like Kreacher’s locket.

“Kreacher!” Dobby called as he stared at the diadem.

“Oh, you is finding another one,” Kreacher said as soon as he popped in. “That is being good. Is very nasty-bad-wrong, too.”

“Agreed,” Dobby said. He glared at Kreacher’s Continental uniform, especially the little pocket watch with it’s fine gold chain. That was just being too much, that was. Master Harry’s Dogfather was a bad, bad man.

Kreacher smirked and checked his pocket watch. “If we is hurrying in containing it and bringing it to Silverclaw, we is being within Gringotts banking hours.”

“Fine,” Dobby grumbled. “You is having more experience with the aura. You is containing that, and Dobby is picking it up.”

“Is a good plan,” Kreacher agreed. “Popping together, yes?”

“Yes,” Dobby agreed.

It took a lot of magic, a lot of magic, to hold the aura in. Once Kreacher started, Dobby had to help. They was both panting and gritting their teeth by the time they picked the diadem up together. Silverclaw started to his feet when they popped in with it.

“Another piece?” Silverclaw asked even though he was already sending for the curse breakers.

“Is very nasty,” Dobby said as he and Kreacher were setting it on the floor together. “Very nasty-bad-wrong.”

“And strong,” Kreacher agreed.

They both backed away, focusing ferociously on keeping the aura under control so that no one was being hurt or seduced in by the nasty-bad-wrong diadem. Heir Bill showed up at a run with his curse breaking team, all of whom started swearing as soon as they was seeing the diadem.

Dobby could feel his magic shifting and growing as he wrestled with the diadem. Magic flowed more strongly through him, which was being really, really good, because the diadem was being at least a little aware of threats around it. It started battering away at Dobby and Kreacher’s grip on its aura, trying to break through to hurt or seduce or out-right control someone in the room.

It was not succeeding.

Dobby would not be letting it. Neither would Kreacher. They gritted their teeth until Heir Bill and his team slapped a suppression array around the diadem that shut it down entirely.

Kreacher fell over.

Dobby plopped to the floor, panting and refusing with all his will to be falling over even though his head was swimming really bad. He sat there watching as Heir Bill and his team carefully shifted the diadem into a special box that they then carried off like it might be blowing up in their faces at any moment.

“Kreacher is needing to make dinner,” Kreacher croaked from his spot on Silverclaw’s floor.

“Dobby is needing to, to finish organizing the Come-and-Go room,” Dobby agreed. “Dobby is not getting that done tonight. No, he is not.”

Kreacher croaked a little laugh. “Kreacher is getting someone else to be making dinner for Master Sirius. Maybe getting takeout. Master Sirius is liking takeout in the little paper containers.”

“Good plan,” Dobby agreed.

He wheezed as he struggled back to his feet. Dobby most certainly did not give Kreacher a hand up. He was not going to be doing anything like that for his rival for Winky’s hand. But he did nod approvingly as Kreacher summoned the magic and the strength to drag himself back to his feet, even if Kreacher had to use the corner of Silverclaw’s desk and Dobby had not.

“Banking hours are over,” Silverclaw announced. “Well done, both of you. Off you go.”

“Silverclaw is so mean,” Dobby said, shaking his head.

“Very mean,” Kreacher agreed.

“Flattery will get you no more time to recover,” Silverclaw said so smugly that Dobby wanted to laugh.

He didn’t. He popped back to Hogwarts instead. At least there were some nice piles of pillows that he could be flopping on for a while in the Come-and-Go room. Dobby was needing a nap.

***

“Darling, what exactly are you doing?”

“Narcissa… this… look. Look at my arm.”

“…What? How…? When did the Mark begin to fade?”

“Last night. During the day? I’m not sure. It… doesn’t feel any different but the edges have changed.”

“Darling, let me scan it. We need to know what’s going on. If something’s happened to the Dark Lord, we need to know. We have to keep Draco safe.”

“I… yes. Yes, do it. It’s. You’re right. Hopefully the Dark Lord will be too focused on other things to punish me for it.”

“…”

“…”

“…No pain?”

“…no. None.”

“…”

“…”

“Darling, I believe I need to make some calls. Perhaps you should go talk to some of your friends.”

“Goyle. Crab. Definitely Dolohov, yes. They… If they have the same thing…”

“Don’t say it, Darling. Not until we’re sure. Just… discretely check, please. If this is wider…”

“…”

“Oh, Darling. Shh. We will survive this. We will make it through whatever trick the Dark Lord is playing on us. We’re Malfoys and we’re strong enough to handle anything that comes our way.”

“And if it’s not a trick? If it fades away entirely, Narcissa? What then?”

“Why, goodness, Darling. There was never anything on your arm at all, now was there? You were never a willing follower of the Dark Lord and see? Not a sign of it.”

“…You’re still magnificent, Narcissa.”

“Thank you, Darling. Now go wash your face and go visit your friends. We need data and we need it quickly.”

“Of course, of course.”

---