Harry had absolutely no idea what to do.
Fortunately, Hermione did.
Gently but firmly, she shooed a highly offended Crookshanks from her lap before hurrying around the coffee table.
Sitting beside Daphne, she immediately wrapped both arms around the distraught girl.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Daphne buried her face in Hermione’s shoulder and broke down completely.
Crookshanks, after casting the group a look that clearly communicated his opinion of being displaced, leapt back onto his preferred armchair and curled up with all the dignity of a wronged king.
Harry remained frozen where he sat.
He wasn’t sure whether he should stay beside Daphne, move away, or simply vanish into another dimension entirely.
Eventually, he looked over Daphne’s head toward Hermione with a helpless expression.
Hermione caught the look immediately.
A small smile touched her lips.
Without speaking, she gestured for him to stay where he was.
Harry obediently remained seated.
Meanwhile, Hermione continued murmuring soft reassurances while gently rubbing Daphne’s back.
Several minutes passed before the crying began to subside.
Once Daphne’s sobs had eased into occasional sniffles, Hermione opened her mouth.
“Harry, could you go and…”
She stopped.
A look of realization crossed her face.
The sort of look Harry had learned meant Hermione had just discovered a far easier solution.
“Oh.”
She blinked.
Then rolled her eyes at herself.
“Honestly.”
Turning slightly, she called out, “Dobby!”
Harry’s eyes widened.
A moment later, he mentally kicked himself.
Of course.
With a soft pop, the house-elf appeared.
“Dobby is here!” he squeaked happily.
“Does Harry Potter sir’s Grangy need Dobby?”
“Yes, thank you, Dobby.”
Hermione smiled warmly.
“Could you bring a cool damp flannel and a calming draught?”
Dobby straightened proudly.
“Certainly, Miss Grangy!”
Another pop.
Then another.
Seconds later, he returned carrying a neatly folded white cloth chilled with cool water and a small vial containing the requested potion.
Hermione accepted both.
“Thank you, Dobby.”
The elf beamed.
Then Hermione glanced toward Harry.
“And I think Harry has something he’d like to ask you.”
The pointed look she sent him could not have been clearer.
Harry groaned inwardly.
How had he forgotten?
Dobby turned expectantly.
“What is Harry Potter sir wishing to ask Dobby?”
Taking a breath, Harry said, “Dobby… would you like to bond with me as my house-elf?”
The effect was extraordinary.
For a moment, Dobby simply stared.
Then his eyes filled with tears.
“Yes!” he practically shouted.
Before Harry could react, the elf launched himself forward and wrapped both arms around his knees.
A warm pulse of magic swept through the room.
The bond formed instantly.
When the glow faded, Dobby stepped back and bowed deeply.
“How may Dobby serve his Master?”
Harry smiled.
“First, I order you—in perpetuity—to call me Harry whenever we’re in private or when it’s only Hermione, Daphne, and me present.”
Dobby’s ears twitched happily.
“Yes, Harry!”
“Second…”
Harry glanced at the ancient pillowcase the elf still wore.
He frowned.
“I really don’t think you should be wearing that horrible thing anymore.”
Dobby looked down at it.
Harry considered several possibilities.
Then inspiration struck.
“I’d like you to wear something more practical. Something appropriate for the house-elf of Harry Potter.”
Dobby stared directly into his eyes.
For a brief moment neither moved.
Then the elf’s face split into a delighted grin.
With a snap of his fingers, magic flashed.
Harry blinked.
The transformation was impressive.
Gone was the stained pillowcase.
Instead, Dobby now wore what looked remarkably similar to modern military fatigues.
Dark cargo trousers.
A matching jacket.
Soft black boots.
A cap.
The mottled pattern consisted of blacks, greys, and muted whites.
Practical.
Durable.
Surprisingly professional.
On one shoulder sat an embroidered crest.
Harry leaned forward.
The crest looked vaguely familiar.
Then he noticed the small banner beneath it.
Potter.
His thoughts stalled.
I have a family crest?
The realization was oddly shocking.
And nobody ever bothered to tell me?
Shaking himself free of the distraction, he asked,
“Are you happy wearing that, Dobby?”
The elf looked ecstatic.
“Oh yes, Harry!”
He puffed out his chest proudly.
“The other elveses will be so jealous!”
Harry chuckled.
“Well, as long as you’re happy.”
Dobby’s grin somehow widened.
“Harry is liking it too?”
“I do.”
The elf looked as though Christmas had arrived early.
Moments later, he vanished.
A few seconds after that, he reappeared carrying three goblets of pumpkin juice.
Without waiting for thanks, he set them down and disappeared again.
Harry turned back toward the girls.
Hermione looked thoroughly amused.
Daphne looked utterly bewildered.
“Harry?”
He glanced at her.
“How did you manage that?”
“What?”
“The bond.”
She pointed vaguely toward where Dobby had vanished.
“You bonded with him and somehow got him into clothes without freeing him.”
Harry shrugged.
“Because I never gave him clothes.” The source of this chapter is g.com.
Both girls stared.
“I gave him an idea.”
Daphne blinked.
Harry continued.
“He chose the clothes himself.”
Understanding dawned almost immediately.
A surprised snort escaped Daphne.
Unfortunately, it arrived while she was still recovering from crying.
The result was not dignified.
Immediately producing a handkerchief seemingly from thin air, she blew her nose, cleaned herself up, and muttered,
“Sorry.”
Hermione blinked.
“For what?”
Daphne gestured weakly toward the front of Hermione’s robes.
“I made a mess.”
Hermione looked down.
Then laughed.
Drawing her wand, she casually cast,
“Evanesco.”
The evidence vanished.
Problem solved.
The laughter faded.
The room grew quiet again.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a brief glance.
Daphne clearly still had something she wanted to say.
So they waited.
Eventually, she gathered her courage.
“We’re bonded.”
Harry nodded.
“Yes.”
“But it isn’t complete.”
The words hung heavily in the air.
Harry released a slow breath.
“Daphne…”
He chose his next words carefully.
“You were brave enough to tell us what happened before you died.”
Daphne lowered her gaze.
Harry continued softly.
“I’m a bloke, but even I know that couldn’t have been easy.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around the handkerchief.
“A few days ago, from our perspective, Hermione was eighteen.”
He smiled faintly.
“And I was seventeen.”
Hermione nodded.
“Now we’re fourteen again.”
Harry spread his hands.
“We’re all still trying to come to terms with that.”
His voice remained gentle.
“I don’t think adding another layer of pressure is going to help any of us.”
Daphne swallowed hard.
“You really don’t know.”
Harry frowned.
“Don’t know what?”
She glanced at him briefly before looking away again.
Then a sad smile touched her lips.
“Of course you don’t.”
The realization seemed to strike her all at once.
“You haven’t actually read the bond book.”
Harry and Hermione exchanged confused looks.
“And I keep forgetting that both of you were raised by Muggles.”
Neither interrupted.
The tone in her voice made it clear she wasn’t finished.
Whatever she was about to explain, it was important.