Remus stirred. He moved committed to the sharp click of an apparition behind him and he summoned a comfortable glow from the fireplace as two feet fumbled and rain sprinkled onto the roughened floor from two pointed ears.
"We never agreed for Harry to come to harm. Yet, in the prophet grapevine I seemed to pick up an incident of a bludger or two."
"Mister Lupin said do all that you can. To improvise, Mister Lupin sir."
Remus laughed gently and he sat down and he invited the house elf to sit next to him. Dobby declined and wandered over to gaze in wonder at an haggard jumper resting on the dining room table. Dobby continued to chatter nonchalantly. "Dobby was very thorough."
Remus held no ill feelings or even a trace of irritation of Dobby's actions. He hadn't been very vague in his requests, but he had made no orders, and he certainly couldn't rule out that the words improvise had at one point came out of his voice out of the times that he had contacted the house elf for help and assistance that he could never pull off himself.
Remus looked forlorn. "I suspect Harry didn't take it very well?"
"He tried to pop off Dobby's head from his shoulders, sir." Dobby reinacted the actions, moulding his small hands into clenched claws and fists, fitting Harry's actual actions to a T, and mirroring his exasperation within his theatrical beaded eyes. It was one of the rare moments of Remus' life that he came close to experiencing Harry as something more than a moving photograph. It was always a much-needed boost and thrill to gather all that he could like a greedy child, drinking up all that Dobby would bring him.
He had never asked the house elf in question to do one thing of this kind but on cue, he always would. Sometimes he would bring Harry's waste and disposal, things that bore no value to Harry though meant the world of knowledge, understanding and eternal love to Remus who would keep the heirlooms on shelves, coded, and ordered in various levels of Harry's states, and Dobby brought much more. All he had to do was raise even a slight interest in any part of Harry's life, and there Dobby would go, pretending to be Harry and allowing Remus to study how integral the strength was of the spells that he had learnt, and lugging in magazines that Harry that had cast his eyes over.
Remus read them repeatedly, if not obsessively, going through every possible variable of thought that would have come to Harry's mind while reading it, how much he had taken in, if he had inherited the infamous sieve-head of his father, and casting a guess to what incarnation, spell of diagram Harry had liked best.
It was a unhealthy life, maybe, to wait on small glimmers of hope brought to Godric's Hollow where Remus resided in the death of his youth for if the presents were suddenly to go but he had faith that there would never be a time where he would lose track of Harry completely. He had done pretty well on his own to his own devices, a strong overview or report that ever came to live the tale of what went on within the walls of Privet Drive although quite often the comments were straight-forward and lacking in the detail that he would have liked and were bias and one-sided and drenched in idealism but back then he had taken all that he could get, and he had considered himself the luckiest man if the stratosphere to know where and when Harry had trudged to a building for a Dentist appointment, and what repairs needed to be made to the house's drain pipes.
Dobby had been a way in, that much was true. Perhaps if he was braver still, he in his full health of mind would be perfectly capable of keeping tabs on absolutely everything. He knew it was true, but he was never quite ready for that level of intrusion. He felt that he far from had the right to the obligation. Dobby looking pleased from his demonstration, watched Remus who had seemed to wander off into his own mind, channelling memory and his face was dark and reflective. More than usual. Bad Dobby. Dobby shouldn't comment on poor mister lupin's hygiene. Mister Lupin has been through so much, mister lupin has and dobby is all too grateful to have grown an alliance with him.
Finding himself again, Remus chest grew as he sucked in a difficult inhalation, reminiscent of his former asthma which had been kind enough to die down around the time his furry little problem decided to raise it's head and he looked on,
"I've asked enough of you, Dobby. You've been incredibly patient and kind but I think you've been more than successful with trying to prise Harry from the ground's of Hogwarts. Very much like his father and god-equivalent, although there never was a godlike bone in that body..." he looked at the ceiling questionably and returned to Dobby. "...there is no separating men like that from their school. That is where Harry should be no reminder of the circumstances makes that any less true. From now on, until the time where things do become more dangerous than I am willing to turn a blind eye to, I will leave my dark hole and do something constructive about it."
Dobby looked grief-stricken.
Remus rubbed his nose and looked on warily. "So that means that I'm letting you go to your own devices. I really wouldn't be opposed to you looking over him, in fact I welcome that in every language known to man," he paused. "Werewolf, and elf."
Dobby's face drained to match Remus' usual demur. Remus suddenly looking younger than he had in twelve years, leaned down to his level, the flames warming his cardigan. Dobby had never seen Mister Lupin's scar so close though it was very noticeable, but even more obvious in the light. Dobby turned indignant.
Remus undaunted, didn't say anything more. He knew that Dobby was one of a kind, and he had never met such a moral high standard in a magical creature of his kind, but he hadn't expected the elf to refuse what he was saying. To be honest, he had never let the house elf stay long enough to be vulnerable to these sorts of social dilemmas. Dobby had been his first contact since going into isolation, and he would miss interaction but the hole which he dwelled was not a place for him, and he had been nothing but an embarrassment to himself. He would need to be alone to console himself into leaving, and it was bound to be a messy affair.
"I trust the Malfoy's haven't been too enthusiastically cruel since my last update?"
"Oh no." Dobby twisted his head hard, his ears flapping and waving off any concern that needed to be had. "It is not Dobby's place to say, sir, but Dobby's mistress now has such an elaborate garden. 'Garden of the gods' mister lupin, sir."
Remus almost looked fully whimsical. "Then, if I didn't know any better, that makes Dobby a god, am I correct?"
Dobby looked shocked. "Don't be silly, master lupin sir."
"I'm far below the bar of being a respectable, high-class man right now, ever in fact Dobby so there's no need for informal address."
Dobby looked uncertain and shifted weight onto his left leg and scratched his shoulder. "Dobby is grateful for Mr Lupin's kindness, sir, but Dobby is all but willing to serve. All men Dobby respects, dobby calls master, sir."
"I'm asking you very kindly not to put all of your bread into one basket where's a perfectly sound table for them to go."
"No bread here, sir, only cake on Harry Potter's dreadful in laws."
Remus found it in himself to laugh strongly, with thin traces of shakiness, remembering the particular time that he had sent Dobby cautiously off, to wonder if he would really return and what he would do with that slim, unfed excitable desire. But Dobby had come, and the story of the lengths that he had gone to not only made him feel extremely apologetic to the point where he regretted being the instigator of such an problematic and punishable act it would have left Harry in, but he like Harry probably had found the humour was humour was due and it was the first thing that had bonded him to Harry, and probably the first time he had laughed in a very Sirius-like manner and maturity since he had held him at two days old. Dobby have even saved him a piece.
It was currently in the kitchen, under-glass propped up, a preservation charm around it. It was too sacred to be on display even if his visitors were limited to various spiders and a re-appearing house elf, even for the shelf. If it was chocolate, it might not have lasted as long. He'd forgotten the taste of his favourite once in a while treat a long time ago. Even if, it was very unlikely.
Remus looked up again and saw Dobby a metre apart from where he had just been stood, falling against the table leg accidentally. The jumper resting on top of it fell, and dropped onto the house elf, and smothering him in frayed wool. For the first time Remus stood and he separated them. He smiled gently, his mouth twitching and he left socks in the jumper's wake.
They had been Harry's and he had held onto them from the one time that James and Lily had brought Harry to his humble flat in London, and forgotten to pick up the spare socks they were always prepared with. It had stricken him shortly after that, and many times since that perhaps that one imbalance in the universe was the cause for the monstrosity after. It was an absurd delusion, but blaming his incompetence was a lighter burden than blaming anybody other.
Dobby was just as confused as he was and sat with a thud looking boneless, eyes glued to the socks. His voice cracked, and became high pitched looking for an explanation for Remus' uncallable acts. "Socks, Mr lupin?"
"They are." he confirmed gently, wincing and bending down as much as he could without irritating a scar. "They are definitely socks, Mr Dobby."
Dobby gaining no information but lacking want for authority squeezed out another question, stopping from bashing his head against the table after a warning look from master lupin who being higher on the food chain, could be frighteningly listened to.
"You deserve attire more fit than my mere cast-offs but I promise you, you'll find these fitting to your requirements as the gracious being that you are. I'm under no illusion that anything I can give you will enable you to be free but I hope you'll see this as a would if I could if you'd let a man do something to sway the fate of something even if there is no hope left for himself. There are prisons that I can't break the hold of, my friend's Sirius being one of them even if he is a cold-blooded murderer. There are some things I am too weak to refrain from wanting to save."
Dobby stuttered. "I-Dobby thinks-no-Dobby is sure of it that Mister Black is much too strong to need to be saved, if you don't mind me saying sir."
Remus' eyes were wide with great pain, untouched and untold about with anyone other than his conservative mind.
Dobby continued, bravely with a jutted jaw. "Dobby would even go as far to say Mister Black is not a cold-blooded murderer of which you speak, sir. House elves know these things, sir, we hear truths even when truths are lost."
Remus' heart clenched in on itself, and he cut himself free from the entranced bind the words had sent him. "The only thing I can handle comprehending at one time is Harry, and what he needs to be saved from. Everything else will wait."
In the last months of the schooling year, and the grave news that hit him like a fast-flung bludger every searing day, Remus had sank lower than he had ever been. He had come close to losing Harry more times than he had ever been close to losing Sirius, James and Peter back in the day. It was as if all four of them had banded together to make this extraordinarily vulnerable boy, and for all of the fear that he lacked, Remus carried.
Always aware of exactly what was going on. From spending time in dark reserves, and death-eater retreats and word of mouth, among public statements he was always on the top of the chamber, and what was to come. That very bathroom even in his hey-days were unused, and as a prefect he was ever-wary of the destruction it would cause, even if he had no idea to what extent in his sixth year.
He was only aware of it all being over was when Dobby came to him when living in Godric's Hollow had driven him to pack the few browned with age leather cases with the parts of live that had never deserted him in the form of book, study and bare essentials.
Remus sensed the house elf arrived. He didn't turn but he made himself look welcoming but he kept with packing. He was far past keeping up appearances, and he knew Dobby to make understanding judgements. He wasn't expecting the chaos that ensued.
Dobby landed and shrieked, bobbing on the floorboards. "Dobby has much news for Master Lupin. Master Lupin must turn in order to understand just what Dobby has to tell him, Master Lupin sir!"
Remus closed his eyes tired and gripped onto the leather casing, the shadows under his eyes feeling exceptionally larger. "Not now-I'm..." the words stuck in his throat as he thought why the Merlin not, and he swivelled around slowly on his stool and stopped dead in his tracks at what was presented.
"Mister Harry Potter has presented poor old Dobby with a..." the elf shuddered, clasping it to his chest tightly.
Remus lightened, recalling feeling into his veins of a nature that hadn't been there for a long time. "A sock." he remarked. Harry, what a soul. What a bright, irrepressible young man, boy...man, no man definitely resonated better. He stood suddenly. "May I?"
Dobby trusted mister lupin, after all Lupin had not only previously entrusted Dobby with a sock but two socks and for that mister lupin had given Dobby when there had been none. Dobby gave it to Remus and Remus fell back down onto the stool gazing at it circling the space around it left on his hand. "How on earth did he manage-"
"In a book, which Mister Potter put a sock out of his own heart and gave to Master Lucius."
Remus listened to everything that had happened in the chamber, and with every passing word Harry's strength added a drop to his own. Even when Dobby had left, to heaven knows where, the world was his much-deserved oyster from birth, Remus was sat with the revelation, echo and encore of the previous year. Now he had inserted himself into a chair, looking through a bare minimal list of his qualifications he had managed to acquire, and what they could do for him, a notion he had never exercised even clean out of school, he had relied heavily on Sirius, and more about one option he wanted to fuel even more.
Daily prophet unwound and open on the dark wood table. Vacancy for Defence against the dark arts position open. He may in the moment have been in a frenzied high which he would quickly come down from and never again consider, yet it felt intrinsic and natural to want to apply. The role of a teacher was a role he'd landed in almost every path of life apart from his personal, and the prospect of meeting Harry in his natural environment was an opportunity all too clear. He was a mess, certainly, and he would be a danger, he would be a train-wreck but for twelve years that had not changed drastically. He was always waiting for it, but now instead he was willing to seek it out and picking himself out of the gutter, with precautions and with the stimuli of a rewarding job was phenomenally attractive.
Remus knew more than most could have anticipated that the moment that he contacted Dumbledore what the answer would be. He had always been on smooth terms with the Hogwarts headmaster, and they worked together way too often, from dealing with his fellow marauders to the order that had stemmed years on. He had proved himself in a variety of ways, and it would take off a lot of pressure from Dumbledore's side to rely on someone he knew to be genuine, yet there was always the matter of the validity of that position since James and Lily's death but now he could tell the difference between the truth and his mental accusations.
All of this, it seemed would not be possible for the exception of a certain house elf had not been as eager to allow him a favour. If not for Remus, Dobby would not have become a free elf, or gotten to meet the famous Harry Potter. Now when dwelling in Hogwarts Kitchens when asked about Harry Potter, the elf would reply. "Dobby knows of something even greater coming to Hogwarts September. Winky, Dobby wants to know have you heard of Mister Remus Lupin?"