All eyes were on Harry, as usual.
Diagon Alley was so full that (much to the delight of Quality Quidditch Supplies) people who couldn't find space to stand had resorted to buying broomsticks so they could survey the scene from above.
"Welcome, all of you!" Harry stepped forward on the podium erected outside the brightly-coloured shop, using his wand as a microphone. "Thank you all for coming out to support the grand opening of Dobby's Sock Shop. I founded the Dobby Sock Shop as a tribute to a friend of mine, Dobby the free elf, who saved my life, and the life of others, in our quest to defeat Voldemort."
A number of people in the crowd winced at the name. Harry Potter may have killed him in the Battle of Hogwarts, but there was still a lot of healing to be done.
Harry hesitated, but decided to go on. He had to get this off his chest once and for all. "I actually have a confession to make…" All ears pricked up, especially those of the press, hoping for a juicy titbit about the Chosen One. "I… one of my biggest regrets, is not cherishing Dobby and his great friendship enough while he was still alive. He was a great friend, better than I ever deserved, and I only fully realised it, when… when he died saving my life." He stopped, too choked up to continue as tears fell from his eyes.
After taking a moment to compose himself, he smiled weakly. "Well, this time the Daily Prophet can write truthfully about tears filling my eyes." This got some laughs from the crowd, giving him confidence. He pulled at the bow tied in the ribbon strung across the double door to the shop. "I now declare the Dobby Sock Shop to be officially open!"
Cheers filled the air and photographers' bulbs flashed as the crowed surged forwards to fill every nook and cranny of the store.
A cornucopia of colour awaited in the entrance, with bright displays of socks displayed on shelves, hung on racks, laid out in neat rectangular open boxes on tables. Just above the wall displays, all along each wall, were magnificent paintings of various landscapes and locations. A sunny meadow full of wild flowers; the Great Hall at Hogwarts with its enchanted ceiling; a cosy living room with a squishy, comfortable armchair and a fire; a sparkling lake surrounded by lush green mountains; and Dobby's favourite of all, a large walk-in wardrobe beyond the dreams of any shopaholic, with a special, massive section set aside simply for socks. Behind the tills, was a large portrait of Dobby the free elf, his large eyes open as wide as they would go as he beheld the sight before him. Harry slipped behind the counter, but stood back so as not to get in the way of the staff serving customers.
"What do you think?" Harry asked the painted elf.
"Wonderful, sir, wonderful!" Dobby squealed, clapping his hands and dancing around on the spot. "Dobby has never been so happy!"
Harry smiled. "That's good to hear. I'll see you back at home tonight, okay Dobby?"
"Dobby will be glad to, sir, glad to!" Dobby replied. He often visited his portrait at Grimmauld Place.
Harry waved to him, then walked away, weaving through the crowds. He grinned as some of the first customers walked away carrying their new socks in large sock-shaped bags inspired by Muggle Christmas stockings – those had been Ron's idea, after seeing them on a "Muggle date" with Hermione last December.
Harry fetched his broomstick and invisibility cloak from the office, and flew back survey first day of trading from above, undisturbed by autograph hunters.
Crowds of shoppers of all ages picked out socks from displays, and it pleased Harry to note that many of them were picking odd socks, just like Dobby would have done.
A little boy aged about five or six sat on his father's shoulders, instructing him on which socks he wanted. "The red one with the golden snitch, Daddy! And the orange broomstick sock!"
Further along, a girl who looked about nine or ten picked out a rainbow selection of socks.
"Dobby likes all those colours too, miss!" Dobby said, standing in the meadow of flowers painting.
"Oh!" The girl dropped all the socks she was holding, then scrambled to pick them up. "Mum look, it's Dobby! He spoke to me!"
The mother smiled as her daughter and Dobby waved to each other and engaged in animated discussion about which of the sock designs they liked most.
A group of middle-aged witches stood by a case of shelves, merrily discussing the merits of a shop selling single socks. "My children always manage to lose one sock each wash! At least with this mismatched sock trend, they look cool, rather than some ragamuffin who can't find a matching pair!"
In another part of the shop, some people were reading an information poster, which was surrounded by socks which depicted Dobby in their designs.
Welcome to the official Dobby Sock Shop on Diagon Alley! Founded by Harry Potter himself, we celebrate diversity, and above all, freedom.
Frequently asked questions:
Why did the vanquisher of Voldemort (yes, we speak his name) open a sock shop? And, why name it the Dobby Sock Shop instead of the Harry Potter Sock Shop?
Harry's friend, Dobby the free elf, loved socks, as this item of clothing is what granted Dobby his freedom. After Dobby died helping Harry and others escape from Malfoy Manor in his quest to destroy Voldemort, Harry vowed to honour his memory. Thus, the shop is named after the elf who inspired it.
Why do you sell single socks instead of pairs?
Dobby enjoyed wearing odd socks, regarding it as strange that people should wear a matching pair. Therefore, in tribute to Dobby, we sell single socks, so you can select your own.
Can I still buy matching pairs of socks?
Of course! Simply buy a left sock and a right sock of your chosen design, and you have a matching pair. This is the beauty of the Dobby Sock Shop – you have the freedom to choose.
Why do you pack sold socks in huge single socks?
There is a tradition among Muggles of leaving out single stockings (large socks) the night before Christmas, to be filled with gifts overnight. We feel that Dobby would highly approve of this, and so appropriated the stockings for our packaging, redesigned slightly to show where you bought them from, of course. Please note: these stockings are not socks for actual giants.
Since this shop is inspired by a free (formerly house) elf, do you support the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare?
Yes, we do. Please speak to a member of staff, or drop a coin into our collection boxes which are located at various points around the store. Thank you for supporting the S.P.E.W.'s aim to allow more house elves to be freed like Dobby! However, please note that we do not encourage the liberation of house elves who do not wish to be freed, as this is traumatic for them. If you do wish to free a house elf, please contact the S.P.E.W., so that the proper support structures and therapies can be put into place in advance.
The hustle and bustle of the shop was music to Harry's ears. Not because of the money, but because it meant Dobby was remembered, and that kept him alive. Harry didn't care if people had only been attracted at first by his own name – once they'd learned the "story behind the store", as the press had called it, witches and wizards from all over had come out in droves to support it. According to Witch Weekly, Molly Weasley had told Harry, odd socks were now a major trend.
Harry had spent months in interviews promoting the shop, speaking to newspapers, magazines, radio shows, groups of people… everyone he spoke to was only too happy to publicise the venture.
Another line snaked around the shop – not to the tills where customers paid for socks they bought, but to a back room with desks where anyone who wished to could paint their own sock design on parchment, which the shop's resident painter, Lucas, would then paint into Dobby's sock wardrobe. This line to pay tribute to Dobby this way was even longer than the one of people buying socks.
Yet, still… however many socks he sold in Dobby's name, and however much Dobby's portrait tried to reassure him, Harry still burned with shame and regret. He didn't know if he could ever forgive himself for taking the living, breathing Dobby for granted.