Massive thanks to bathtubblogger for Beta-ing this for me, she did a fabulous job! This is an entry for the Challenge Yourself to Write Outside Your Boundaries challenge at HPFC :)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own absolutely nothing, except for the basic plot.
If it had not been for the house elf, the world would not have been the same.
It had been mid-winter when Luna Lovegood was taken - stolen from the train, stolen from her father, and even stolen from herself. Anyone else who had been locked away in a lightless cellar would have changed completely, but not Luna. The lightless cellar became a somewhat brighter place due to her cheerful, good, innocent presence. And she was the most pure being he had ever seen.
Dean watched quietly from his seat at the window as Luna bounced around outside, a ray of sunshine against the brilliant white of the snow, which had fallen just last night. And yet, there was something wrong - something off in the way she moved about the small garden, peering down in the snow, a folded bundle of green in her arms. He just couldn't quite place what it was.
"Ees everything alright?" Fleur's French-accented voice came from behind Dean, making him jump slightly before he turned to smile at her. Even eight months pregnant she was still a vision – especially with the glow that all mothers seem to get a couple of months before the arrival of their child. Luna had once said to Dean that when Fleur glowed like that, those around her were made more beautiful, unlike when she wasn't pregnant and all others dimmed in comparison to her.
"I'm not sure," Dean sighed. He and Luna hadn't ever made anything official, they had just drifted together and where one went, the other followed. They had taken to visiting Bill and Fleur often as Luna liked to and talk to Dobby, and they both felt the need to thank the couple for taking them into their home at their time of dire need.
"Well zen, why are you just seeting 'ere? Go and see what 'as upset 'er!" Fleur commanded in annoyance, her accent becoming more pronounced. Bill came over and wrapped his arms around his wife, kissing her on the cheek, and she snapped from annoyed pregnant woman to loving wife as she stroked his cheek. Dean decided it was a good moment to slip out of the house.
Luna was kneeling down beside Dobby's grave, tucking her favourite long green cloak carefully around the small mound which she had cleared of snow. She had moved the headstone Harry had carved momentarily so she could cover the entire grave with the soft, warm fabric, which he had bought her for her birthday.
"I don't want him to get cold," Luna whispered without turning round to face him. Her voice was muffled and the fact that she didn't turn to him made him realise she was upset and she had possibly even been crying. Dean instinctively drew her tiny frame towards him and enveloped her in his arms.
"I know, love," he murmured in her ear as she started to cry into his chest. Luna's gates just seemed to burst open and everything was pouring out of her in an uncontrollable rush of words.
"It's j-just not fair t-that he's dead and we're alive all because we needed to be rescued and he was the only one… who could do it… that we knew of. And... and without him we wouldn't even be here to cry over his grave because there wouldn't be a grave to cry over because he would probably still be alive, and we would still be trapped in that dreadful cellar, or we would be dead. W-without Dobby, Harry would probably be dead and the world would be ruled by V-voldemort and everything would be so terrible and dark a-and I can't even stand to think of it. But it isn't fair that he's dead, it isn't! And Fred, and Remus, and Tonks, and Colin, and Snape, and everyone else who died in that battle!" Luna's words were lost in her cries and he said nothing, just held her closer.
Because all that she said was true.
Because, without Dobby, they would probably all be dead.
About half an hour later, Dean led Luna back inside and settled her down on the sofa, serving her tea and making sure she was alright. She looked so small and pale; he just wanted to protect her. It was as if she had shared her entire soul with him out beside Dobby's grave and it had exhausted her. He had had no idea she thought those kinds of things when they came to visit Bill and Fleur. He had had no idea that whenever she went out to talk to Dobby, she was probably talking about those kinds of things.
Dean was silent and thoughtful all throughout dinner and up until the moment they had to leave.
"Dean, we'll come back won't we?" She always asked him that question just as they were leaving.
"Always love. Before the first bluebells appear, we'll come back."