Chapter 4
This time when Harry awoke, he found he was lying in a bed instead of the floor. Some of the pain had receded, but he still couldn't really move.
A squeal echoed from down by his feet.
"Harry Potter, sir, you is awake!"
"Hello, Dobby," said Harry hoarsely, managing a slight grin as Dobby the house-elf came into focus.
"Harry Potter has been unconscious for two weeks!" continued the elf in his shrill voice, gazing at Harry with his large, tennis-ball shaped green eyes. "Dobby was beginning to think you might not live, sir!"
"Well, isn't it your job to save my life?" said Harry, laughing slightly. Inwardly, though, he felt suddenly cold. He had come close to death then…and he still wasn't wholly convinced that death wasn't better…
A sudden thought struck him. "Don't they need you at Hogwarts, Dobby?"
"One house-elf is not a great loss, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby with a shrug. "They got on fine before Dobby was there, they is not missing Dobby much at all. Some is saying," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "That Dobby has dangerous ideas."
Harry vividly recalled the reactions of the Hogwarts house-elves when Hermione had tried to get them hell-bent on the idea of freedom, and could easily see how they would be glad to be rid of Dobby.
"Any word from the Weasleys or Hermione or anyone?" he asked. For some reason, he was almost hoping that there wasn't.
"No, Harry Potter, sir," squeaked Dobby. "They isn't knowing if you is alive or not, sir."
"Oh." Harry sat silently for a few minutes. He hadn't even considered that; but of course, what else were they supposed to think? And even supposing he made a full recovery, how could he go back to living a normal life, living among normal people? He had killed…
Don't think about that. Not now. But then, didn't he have to think about it? Would his friends and the rest of the Wizarding world still be able to face him, now that he was a murderer?
Or was it him who couldn't face them?
"I'm not ready to go back, Dobby. Not yet. Maybe not ever," he said aloud.
"Dobby will stay with Harry Potter!" said the house-elf proudly, drawing himself up to his full height—which still wasn't much. "Dobby will help Harry Potter get well again!"
"Thanks, Dobby. Just don't—don't tell anyone I'm alive, ok? I know it sounds incredibly selfish and horrible to keep everyone wondering…but I'm not even sure I belong in that world anymore. Maybe I won't ever go back. I just don't know."
Soon enough he was able to drift back into sleep, but his rest was uneasy, and somehow he couldn't banish the words I'm a murderer from his head.
Ron and Hermione strolled through the garden of the Burrow together, hand in hand. They had traced this path around the garden many times over the summer; having the comfort of each other's presence was the only way they could face the past. Now, however, they needed each other in order to face the future.
Hogwarts had not reopened last year, and in any case Ron and Hermione had gone with Harry to hunt down Voldemort's remaining Horcruxes, so they were returning to Hogwarts for their seventh and final year.
"I just don't know that this is the right thing to do," said Hermione for the thousandth time. "Going back to school…somehow it all seems so tame, and dull, and—meaningless."
"I know what you mean," was Ron's exhausted answer. "But Hermione, we've been through this before, it's best to complete our education so we'll have better chances at finding good jobs. Besides, since when have you found homework meaningless?" he teased gently.
"I don't know if I can face going back there…Ron, we've fought in the greatest magical battle of our era, maybe even one of the greatest ever. And now we're supposed to go back and study Charms and Potions and everything like good little schoolchildren? And besides, this will be our first year there without Harry."
There was silence for a while; they didn't need to speak, understanding what each other was thinking and feeling. Then Ron broke the silence with an abrupt change of subject.
"How's Ginny been?"
"You're her brother! Why are you asking me!"
"Because, if you haven't noticed, she's barely been talking to me, or to anyone!" replied Ron heatedly. "I was wondering if maybe you'd been able to get through to her."
"I haven't talked to her much either, Ron. I do know that she still insists on believing that Harry is alive…but that hope keeps waning with each day that passes. It's been two months. If he really was alive, wouldn't we know by now?"
Ron sighed. "I don't know, Hermione. I just don't know."
