Whispered holiday wishes were exchanged between bedsides, betwixt yawns and the crunches of heart-shaped candies being eaten, as the Gryffindors retreated to their dormitories. One light went out ─ then another, and another ─ until the towers of Hogwarts were massive columns of shadow. Below, in the cellars and kitchens that extended below the school like the underwater expanse of an iceberg, small workers emerged, dozens at a time, to do their evening chores.
One elf stopped the crowd and turned at the front to face them.
"Mikey, Slogo, Lilie, Bob, Pansy, and Dobby: you sections is going sepertly to the rest of us's. We's going to the Great Hall!"
A cheer rang out, probably from some of the younger elves, who were making their first trip to the unknown land of the Upstairs.
"Hush!" cried the elf. "We mus' be quiet or the wizards will hear us. Now, every group says where they's going to go!"
The elf called Mikey said, "Puff tower!"
Slogo called out, "the Greater Hall!"
The leader frowned and wrinkled his nose. "No Greater Hall! You demoted!"
The other elves, nervous, finished announcing their destinations, including a tiny little elf who looked terrified at the prospect of going to the dungeons at night, but put a smile on her face, remembering her duty. One last elf waved his hand in the air to answer.
"Dobby reporting, sirs! I's taking Darla to Sir Harry Potter's tower!"
A murmur ran through the crowd. Two elves, alone? Such an act was illegal, not to mention wasteful of time! But Dobby was well esteemed in the community, so a hasty vote taken granted him permission.
"All sections departs!" the head elf declared. Five single-file lines (and one pair) exited the cellars in the direction of the four common rooms and other areas of the castle.
Dobby grabbed Darla's hand and practically dragged her through the corridors. They were both clothed in light pink pillowcases magically dyed for the occasion by Professor Dumbledore himself.
"Dobby! We mustn't," she said sternly, with an adorable lisp. Her already large eyes were wide with concern, and Dobby stopped running to look at her.
"Dobby knows what he is doing," he answered, confident. "Dobby has a most wondrous surprise for Darla!"
And with that he sped off again up the staircases and corridors. Smitten by his bravery, Darla had no choice but to follow him.
When they finally arrived at the Gryffindor portrait hole, both house-elves were out of breath, panting with their hands on their knobby knees. Now, Darla's increasing curiosity got the better of her, and she gestured to the sleeping portrait of the Fat Lady in question.
"Is we cleaning in here, Dobby?" she asked. Her ears waggled excitedly above her head ─ since house-elves' ears are used to convey their feelings. "There must be truly awful messes for Darla to clean up!"
Dobby took a breath. "Let Dobby show you," he answered quietly.
He fiddled with the knob until it silently turned, and silently pushed open the door. Darla could hardly keep from crying out in delight.
"Dobby! So muches to clean! So little time!" she exclaimed, gazing everywhere at the pink and red décor that filled the space. Valentine's Day banners, streamers, and cards provided by Lockhart were scattered everywhere, and unclaimed boxes of chocolate and other gifts remained unopened or depleted on couches and poufs. The whole room was a house-elf's dream work site.
"But Darla," began Dobby, suddenly not his cheery self.
"What is wrong?" she answered. "It's perfect!" A dustbin appeared out of nowhere and the house-elf began to hum softly as she swept flower petals into a pile.
"Dobby thought... maybe─"
"What?" Darla stopped sweeping, curious.
"Dobby-thought-maybe-wes-could-celebrate-togethers-without-cleaning!" replied the house-elf rapidly. He looked downcast, not meeting Darla's eyes.
"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! House-elves is supposed to work!" whisper-shouted Darla, shocked. She clapped her hands to the sides of her face comically.
"Hush, Darla! They will hear!"
"You say you had gotted better, and now you wants to work! But you's trying to make me bad, just like Winky!"
The elf named Winky was a house-elf legend ─ Dobby had encouraged her to ask for better wages from Dunbledore, but she was so traumatized by being fired that she did nothing but cry pathetically and get drunk on butterbeer. Frankly, she was more known for being a disgrace to elf-kind than for being clothed by her master. Recently, she had entered therapy and appeared to be improving in condition.
"No, Darla! No no no!" said Dobby emphatically.
"I's going to report you, Dobby!" cried Darla. She hesitated. "After Darla finishes cleaning!"
"Wait!" said Dobby. He held up one gnarled finger and searched on the messy floor for a moment until he stood up triumphantly. "Found it!"
Darla considered the situation. Even if she paused to look, she could still keep working after. She wasn't a bad elf, after all. Not like Dobby.
"What is it?" she asked cautiously.
"Dobby came up to the tower to help clean earlier, because Dobby was bored and wanted to work." Darla beamed. "But the celebrations was still going on! So, Dobby thinks to himself, maybe I can just grab something by the door to clean up! And Dobby finds some of these candies!"
The elf opened his palm to reveal a slightly crushed box of Valentine's Day heart-shaped candies with messages on them.
"I's didn't know what they is called, but there's words on the box," he continued. "It says, Happy Vale Tine Day!"
Darla took the box of candies in wonder. "For Darla?" she asked, caressing the box in her work-worn hands.
"For Darla," Dobby confirmed. "Open one up and we's can see them!"
Together, they carefully opened the package and selected a bright pink heart from the dozen inside. Be mine, it read.
"Does you want it, Dobby?'" said Darla, who sat cross-legged on the common room floor, leaving her dustbin forgotten behind her. Dobby shook his head.
"For you," he told her, hoping to sound like a gentleman. Darla popped the heart into her mouth and giggled.
"Sugary," she said sweetly, through her missing front tooth. Dobby had to laugh at the sight.
The pair spent the evening amusing each other with décor, and alternatively eating the candy hearts. They played a game of 'catch the floating flower petals before Dobby accidentally eats them' a few hours later. Actually, that was mostly Darla, as the title implied. The game was also a result of the consumption of a few glasses too many of leftover butterbeer.
Some cleaning took place as well, although it was entirely by choice and a relaxing pastime instead of a slightly-enjoyed necessary activity. A few streamers were removed here and there, but much of the day's rubbish and decorations remained on tables and chairs.
Finally, Dobby and Darla settled into a lumpy armchair by the fireplace. It was not lit, but the room was still comfortably warm. The two house-elves were worn out from their day in the kitchens, and partially, their conversation that evening. It was time to rest. As they started to drift off, Dobby turned to Darla, whose head was leaning on Dobby's shoulder, leaving a pillowcase line on her cheek.
"Happy Vale Tine Day, Darla?" he whispered, smiling a lopsided grin that was slightly diminished by the number of candy heart chunks in his teeth.
Dobby supposed Darla had fallen asleep, but she stirred momentarily and offered an almost inaudible murmured reply.
"Happy Vale Tine Day, Dobby."
And then they fell asleep.
The white china bowls once full of ombré pink and red flower petals had been cleaned and collected, sorted by color and packed away in the convoluted cellars of Hogwarts.
The streamers that clung to the arched windows like wet tissue paper were collected one by one as they fluttered gently back and forth.
The packages of Valentine's Day candy hearts were checked for stragglers and vanished individually until none were left ─ although a few made it into curious elf mouths.
The card-carrying gnomes, surly from not receiving any presents themselves, had been forcibly removed from the halls and into the possession of the Headmaster.
The chairs and poufs littering the common rooms had been straightened, brushed down for lint, and straightened once more to the elves' satisfaction.
But in only three towers did these tasks occur.
After all of this had been done, and the other workers, weary from their work, retired to the kitchens where they would rest for what remained of the nighttime hours; two house-elves sat in Gryffindor Tower, sharing in the simple joy of sweet company.