Hermione's Revolution

Hermione wasn't at all surprised when the note from Professor Dumbledore arrived with the morning post. She'd kicked up enough of a stink the last few days that she knew it would only be a matter of time before one of the teachers got in touch to discuss what was going on with their favourite pupil (well, not Professor Snape, but she also knew better than to expect him to take notice of anyone not in Slytherin).

Still, Hermione was excited to realise that her activities had attracted the attention of the Headmaster himself. She'd just been expecting a few stern words from Professor McGonagall and maybe a letter sent to her parents, but an appointment with Dumbledore was much better for her cause. And it wasn't like anyone else was listening to her.

Sometimes she wondered if it was just because she was Muggle-born that she saw things differently to the other wizarding children (and while she was thinking about such things, why are there different terms for boys and girls who do magic, and yet the male term is the general descriptive form? What exactly is wrong with the term "magical"?). But then Harry had also been brought up by Muggles, even if he wasn't born to them, so surely he knew as much about the outside world as she did, which made his stupid refusal to participate in the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare really irritating. Admittedly, she hadn't noticed the acronym when she'd come up with the name, but Ron and Harry had been entirely too obnoxious in their criticism of it and refusal to help her come up with anything better.

She supposed they just couldn't see what was wrong with the way wizards treated the house-elves, and it was hard to argue with them when the elves themselves claimed to be happy with their lot. She'd spent a lot of time down in the kitchens talking to them over the last few weeks and while she realised that house-elves were somehow either conditioned or trained to enjoy housework all the time, she also saw that Dobby was still able to enjoy doing his job now that he was a free elf, and he got paid for his efforts now, so he was able to build up quite a collection of tea-cosies and odd socks. Actually, she wondered about the odd socks: it was often jokingly suggested among Muggles that socks were magiced away when only one returned from doing a load of washing — after three years at Hogwarts, Hermione would not be surprised to discover that it was just a few freed house-elves adding to their collections.

During the lunch hour Hermione went and knocked politely on the carved gargoyle that marked the entrance to Dumbledore's office. It leaped out of the way to reveal the hidden staircase that Hermione had not seen since she returned the Time-Turner in May. The heavy oak door at the top was open, and Dumbledore was sitting at his desk scribbling on some paperwork with an ornate quill. "Ah, Miss Granger," he said, as if he hadn't heard her knock and opened the door. "Come in, take a seat."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, doing her best not to stare around the room at the many magical items and the portraits of all the previous headmasters. It wouldn't do to be rude, Professor Dumbledore might not be so inclined to hear her case if he caught her looking for magical secrets she was not ready to know.

"I hear you would like to talk about the house-elves."

"They're little more than slaves, sir! It's not right!" She banged her fists down on his desk emphatically.

"You're right, it's not." The Headmaster spoke with a gentle tone that quite surprised Hermione, who had spent all morning spoiling for a fight. Her righteous anger fizzled and died in confusion and she found herself staring at the older man in confusion.

"Then why haven't you set them free?"

"A good question. Hermione, what happens to the clothes you leave hidden in the clutter of the Gryffindor common room?" She felt herself blush at the mention of her little knitted hats.

"They disappear with the mess, but Ron told me it's just Dobby taking them all."

"And so it is. That little house-elf now has approximately one beanie for every day of winter. He will never go cold thanks to your kindness."

"But he's already been set free. I want to help the others too." She'd seen Dobby in the kitchens the day before wearing six beanies at once. The way they weighted down his elongated ears looked both ridiculous and incredibly cute, but she thought it best not to comment at the time.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Hermione, I know how well-read you are, and how eager you are to prevent the wizarding world from making the same mistakes as the Muggle one, but you will not be able to persuade the house-elves to join you in your revolution here because they do not want to be free yet."

"Why not, sir?"

"Because most of the house-elves here at Hogwarts have never known the horrible treatment that Dobby and countless others like him have experienced. In all my time as Headmaster we have only had one reported incident of an attack on a house-elf, much to the disgust of some of my predecessors." He flashed an angry glare at one of the oldest of the paintings on the wall, but its subject was not present. Hermione wondered which one of the headmasters that had been, and if Hogwarts, a History would tell her.

She ran a hand through her messy hair, pulling it back from her face. "So you're saying we can't set them free because they like being slaves because people are nice to them now when they weren't before?"

"No, I'm saying we have to work on increasing the elves' sense of self until they want to be free, and in the mean time we have to give them as much freedom and opportunity as we can while respecting their desire to cook and clean up every mess we humans make."

"I'm not very good at being patient, sir. I see problems, and I want to fix them."

"I know, that's what makes you such a good Gryffindor." She flushed at this unexpected praise, but them Dumbledore caught her eye and held it in his steady gaze. "How long did it take for women to achieve equal rights and status to men in the Muggle world, Hermione?"

She thought for a long moment before answering truthfully. "We're still working on it, sir."

"It's much the same in the wizarding world, child, though we've had some feminists on our side for longer. Don't stop fighting for the house-elves, Hermione, even though it's hard and very few people are on your side. For every mind you alienate there may be another you change, and that's important."

"But the house-elves themselves-"

"They'll come around, wait and see. Already they are choosing the chores they wish to perform around the castle, although someone always steps up to make sure everything gets done, and someday they will be able to choose to have a day off if they'd rather go visit family and friends than work. In the future I can imagine the house-elves deciding that they don't ever want to work again, if they have someone like you to tell them they don't have to. Who knows, maybe someday house-elves will even have wands and study at Hogwarts themselves."

"You really think so, Professor?"

"I hope so, Miss Granger. It would only be fair. Now," he said, rumbling in the pockets of his robes, "somewhere here I have a few coins I set aside just for this purpose." He brought out a number of strange objects and set them on the desk, including a feather, an empty packet of jelly babies, some postcards and a complete-looking set of chocolate frog cards. "Ah, here we are."

He held out a hand to her, two Sickles resting in his palm, and Hermione felt her face light up. "Really, sir?"

"I cannot think of a cause I'd rather support, Miss Granger."

Hermione's hand dashed towards her own pockets, only to find them empty. After a moment her hand went to the point on her robes just above the school crest and quickly unpinned the S.P.E.W. badge that she wore so proudly. She handed it to the headmaster with a shy smile.

"Thank you, Hermione. I have a feeling this badge may someday be worth a lot of money as a memorial to all your service for the house-elves."

"Thank you, Professor. It means a lot to... well, me and Dobby. We'll try to make you proud of us."

"That's all I ask of any of my pupils. Now, you'd better get down to the dining hall, or you'll miss lunch."

Hermione ran back down the steps with a heart full of excitement, resolving to visit the dorm room on her way to class even if it did make her late to Herbology. Maybe none of the other students agreed with her, maybe even none of the house-elves were on her side, but it didn't matter. She was going to wear her badge to let people know that she believed all magical creatures were created equal, and no amount of mockery or teasing was going to stop her.

And even if no one else noticed the little badge on Dumbledore's robes at dinner that night and every night after, Hermione always smiled when she saw it because she knew she wasn't alone in her quest. Someday the house-elves were going to be free, and if they then chose to remain in Hogwarts as servants it wouldn't matter because at least they would get to choose.