On the thirty-first of July Harry quietly sang “Happy Birthday” to Hedwig and himself.
Uncle Vernon was hosting a large business dinner; Harry expected to miss the meal entirely.
After a soft hoot and a gentle nip from his owl he turned toward bed early—
—and found a small creature with enormous ears, a long nose and bandaged hands standing on the mattress.
The creature bore several bruises and wore what appeared to be a pillowcase with holes cut for head and arms.
Harry’s mouth fell open.
And I thought my life was hard…
“Er… hello?”
The creature burst into tears and clutched its head.
“The Great Harry Potter speaks to Dobby! Dobby is not worthy, Dobby is—”
“Quiet!” Harry hissed, lunging forward to silence it.
“Please—you have to be quieter! My aunt and uncle will hear you!”
“Dobby is sorry!” the house-elf sobbed, at least attempting to lower its volume.
“But you is the Great Harry Potter, sir, and Dobby is only a lowly house-elf. Dobby cannot believe the Great Harry Potter would wish to speak with him!” Harry glanced at Hedwig, who merely chuffed in amusement.
“Glad you’re enjoying this, traitor.” He turned back and hesitantly laid a hand on the creature’s shoulder.
The sobbing intensified.
“Look, Dobby—first of all, it’s just Harry. Not ‘the Great Harry Potter, sir.’ Just Harry. Second… not to be rude, but why are you in this house?”
Dobby stopped crying at once and fixed him with sorrow-filled eyes.
“Dobby comes to give Harry Potter a message. Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts.”
Harry’s compassion evaporated; ice entered his voice.
“And who told you to tell me that?”
Dobby cringed and covered his face.
“Dobby comes by himself. Master would not want Dobby to tell Harry Potter. Bad Master would want Harry Potter present. Dobby must shut his head in the oven for coming, but Dobby will do it! Dobby will protect the Great Harry Potter!”
Harry froze, turning the words over.
“Dobby…” He broke off as the elf seized a lamp from the bedside table and swung it toward his own head.
Harry caught it just in time.
“Merlin—why did you do that?”
“Dobby is a bad elf! Elves must never speak of Master that way!” Dobby lunged for the lamp again; Harry dropped it and pinned the creature’s arms until the struggle subsided.
“All right. Let’s try again.” He released the elf cautiously.
“I’m guessing you can’t tell me who your master is?” Dobby shook his head so hard his ears flapped.
“May I try to guess?” After a moment’s consideration the elf shrugged.
“Is it someone I go to school with?” A half-nod, half-shake.
“The family of someone I go to school with, then.” A clear nod.
“Gryffindor? Ravenclaw? Hufflepuff? Slytherin?” Another nod at the last.
“Right—Slytherin. Now is it—”
Dobby suddenly charged head-first at the wall.
Harry barely managed to catch him before impact.
“All right—we’re done with that line of questioning. Different approach. Why can’t I go back to Hogwarts?”
“The Great Harry Potter must not go back! It is not safe at Hogwarts now!”
“I’d already figured that much out, Dobby.”
“No—Harry Potter does not understand. Hogwarts will not be safe! Master will make certain!”
Harry swore under his breath.
Perfect.
Someone’s going to try something again this year—and now I won’t even have my friends to help me deal with—
His thoughts halted.
He turned slowly to stare at the house-elf.
Dobby had succeeded in slamming his arm into a drawer while Harry was distracted, but Harry could not bring himself to care as much as before.
“Dobby… have you been trying to… discourage me from returning already?”
“Dobby thought… if Harry Potter felt his friends had abandoned him, he would not want to return to the castle…”
Harry rose carefully from the bed and narrowed his eyes.
“Dobby. Have my friends written me any letters?”
With shaking hands the house-elf produced a thick stack from behind his back.
“Dobby will give the Great Harry Potter his letters if he agrees not to return to Hogwarts this term.”
“Give me my letters, Dobby.” Harry took a single step forward.
He tried not to snarl, yet ice still edged his voice.
“Now.” His friends had been writing.
They had not abandoned him.
He had friends.
“Harry Potter must promise. Hogwarts is not safe.”
“I refuse to remain in this house one day longer than absolutely necessary. I have already survived a murderous professor and a psychopathic possessing spirit. The only friends I possess are at Hogwarts. The only adult I trust is at Hogwarts. I am going back. Now—give me my letters.”
“If the Great Harry Potter refuses to stay, Dobby will make him.” The house-elf snapped his fingers.
Harry’s door burst open.
He lunged, but Dobby was already sprinting down the stairs.
Harry flung himself after the creature and caught up just outside the kitchen—where Dobby stood staring at a large cake on the table beyond the door that still held Uncle Vernon’s business guests.
“Dobby, please—”
“Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter, sir. But Harry Potter cannot return to Hogwarts.”
Harry lunged again and managed only to snatch the letters from the elf’s hand.
Dobby twisted free, snapped his fingers once more, and the cake launched itself through the doorway.
With a quiet pop the house-elf vanished, leaving Harry sprawled on the floor amid the astonished, cake-covered faces of Vernon, Petunia, and three guests.
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