Story Title/Link: For Dobby
School & Theme: Ilvermorny: Death of a leader
Mandatory Prompt: [Emotion] Admiration
Additional Prompt(s): [Word] Hopeless
Year: 6
Word Count: 2128
AN: For the purpose of this story, I have broken canon around Dobby's death. Aberforth finds out that our favourite house-elf has died when Bill notifies the Order of Harry's escape from Malfoy Manor, instead of hearing it from Harry a lot later on.
Flip didn't like to stay up late. Being one of the youngest house-elves in Hogwarts, she was usually the first to go to bed. She didn't like the castle at night—it was dark, and the walls howled in the wind. It terrified her so much; her knees would knock together, and her teeth would chatter. But Peeves had been busy emptying pillows of their contents across the ground floor hallways, and Flip had volunteered to help clean up.
Dobby used to say that before Headmaster Dumbledore died, there was no reason to be fearful.
"There are scarier things than wind and shadows. They cannot be harming you, Flip," Dobby had said to her whilst giving her a comforting pat between the ears.
Flip's heart skipped sadly as she thought about her friend. She missed him. Dobby had been sent on a secret mission for the Order a few days ago and still hadn't returned. She was not worried, though—the Order's work was important, and Dobby was a free elf, just like Flip.
The clock in the entrance hall told her it was almost two in the morning when she scurried across the cold floor to get to the next spot on her list. All she should have been able to hear was the patter of her tiny feet on the stone, but a whisper caught her attention.
Flip froze in place, and a shudder travelled through her body. Professor McGonagall was standing at the main doors into the castle; her house robes pulled tightly against her slender frame. Flip knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping on the teacher, but her legs pushed her forward as if moving on their own accord. She stepped closer, using the shadows the moon cast throughout the hallway to hide her presence.
"So, it is true? They escaped Malfoy Manor?" McGonagall's lips were drawn tight as if laced together to guard her secrets. She talked in a low hush, but Flip could still hear every urgent word. When Professor McGonagall let out a heavy sigh, so did the house-elf.
"Yes, it was Potter." The Professor's visitor paced across the doorway, appearing and disappearing from Flip's view. He wrung his hands as he moved, and despite the fact it sounded like he was giving good news, his face looked stressed.
The house-elf felt a flutter of joy. The man had long grey hair that blended into a beard and almost reached his belly. He was tall and thin and wore spectacles.
"If Headmaster Dumbledore is back," Flip whispered to herself, "then things will be right again. The dark wizards that have taken over the school will be gone, and the house-elves will be safe."
She almost clapped her hands, but then she remembered that the Headmaster was dead, and her stomach plummeted precariously. Sadness overcame her joy, and she felt hopeless.
"Who is this stranger?" she thought. "Why is he here at such a late hour?"
Now she was paying more attention, Flip noticed that the wizard was dressed in dirty-looking grey robes and had a scowl, but fewer lines decorated his face. He looked younger than the late Headmaster. His beard was also dirtier, and his tummy was bigger. She guessed it might be a family member.
"Weasley just sent word that the kids made it to the safe house. I'm sorry it's so late, but I had to let you know straight away. I would have Floo'd or sent you an owl, but I don't think either is safe at the moment. I wouldn't put it past Snape to have spies in every hallway."
Flip covered her mouth to stop a squeak and took a step back, making sure her tiny body was hidden entirely by the shadows. She was not a spy—Flip was on the good side. All she wanted was to continue to be free, just like Dobby was.
The wizard that wasn't Headmaster Dumbledore continued. "As it is, we shouldn't be out here too long; we might get caught." He sighed and stopped his pacing, placing both hands on his hips. "I sent Dobby to rescue them. The kids are in a bad way. They'll rest at the safe house for a while before making their next move. The poor house-elf died in the process."
"Oh Aberforth, I'm so sorry." McGonagall stepped out from the castle and pressed a hand against the wizard's arm in what looked like a comforting way. "That is such a shame for us and the house-elves. He had some very different opinions, but he was still very loved by the staff and the students."
Fortunately, Flip's hands were still over her mouth, preventing the wail from escaping. The words hit her like a dagger. Her ears—usually pricked high and always listening—drooped low as grief wracked her body and her heart thumped heavily against her tiny rib cage. Although she knew there was still a pile of feathers waiting for her attention, she couldn't comprehend sorting them out, even though working was one of her favourite things to do.
"That will teach you to spy on the Professor," she chastised herself with a small sob.
Flip didn't want to hear any more of the man's hopeless words. He had already said enough. The news bounced around her head as she retreated to a safe space. She didn't know what to do. With the despair that nothing would be good again at the front of her mind, she snapped her fingers to get back to the kitchens before McGonagall found her.
⁂
The rest of the elves were asleep. They would need to be awake in a few hours to cook breakfast and get the fires going in the common rooms. But Flip needed to tell someone. She needed to find Winky, another friend of Dobby's. Winky would know what to do.
Flip stumbled through the kitchen until she got to Winky's bundle of blankets in the hidden room, watching the house-elf as she slept peacefully. Flip shifted from foot to foot nervously, feeling a wave of guilt. In sleep, Winky wouldn't know the hopelessness Flip was currently feeling, but she knew she had to tell her. If she didn't, she might explode.
After a moment's more deliberation, Flip reached out a long, gnarled finger and prodded Winky in the arm.
"Winky, wake up!" Flip whispered, being careful not to wake the other elves around them.
Winky stirred, large tennis ball-like eyes blinking wearily at Flip. She felt another surge of guilt, but only for a moment before the bleakness stole her feelings once more.
"What is it, Flip?" Winky yawned. "Why is you waking Winky?"
"Dobby is dead," Flip wailed. "Dobby was killed saving Harry Potter."
Now she was saying the words out loud, they felt more real.
Winky shook her head, a frown appearing across her forehead. "No, Flip is telling lies. Dobby is not dead."
"He is Winky! Flip is hearing it with her own ears. He is dead, and we will not be seeing him again. You must be understanding me, Winky," Flip pleaded. She felt desperate and didn't know how else to make the news clear to Winky.
Something clicked with the older house-elf, and suddenly, she looked distraught. Tears filled Winky's huge brown eyes and ran over her tomato-sized nose as she hauled herself out from her makeshift bed. Although house-elves, by nature, didn't like touching or hugging, they flung themselves together, taking comfort from each other's small body as they cried and grieved for their friend and role model. They were no longer quiet; each anguished sob was louder than the last and echoed around the still kitchens.
The noise they were making soon woke their fellow elves, and a rumbling started to echo around their chambers.
Finally, Kreacher stepped towards the bawling duo, coughing to get their attention. "Why are you two making so much noise? Kreacher was trying to sleep. Kreacher has chores in the morning," he grumbled.
Flip broke away from Winky and was surprised to see the rest of the house-elves stood behind Kreacher, all of them blinking back at her. She had never gotten on with her workmates. Most of them looked down at her—she was young and wanted the other elves to be free, just like her, Dobby and Winky. She chose to wear clothes instead of the usual assortments of rags and tea towels and was usually very vocal when the elves questioned her decisions.
She wiped the snot from her nose. This moment, right now, felt very important to her. She had never had a captive audience before, and she knew she needed to use it so that Dobby's death would not be in vain. She could no longer be passive about the mistreatment of house-elves in the castle. Flip would stand for the same things Dobby stood for, and most of all, she would try and make their lives a little more hopeful.
"You can do this, Flip." Winky patted her shoulder and gave her a knowing look. It felt to Flip as if Winky was reading her mind.
Flip took courage from this. She cleared her throat, wiped her eyes and drew herself up to her tallest self.
"Dobby is dead," she answered Kreacher first before looking at the expectant group. "He died saving Harry Potter, Kreacher's master. His death is sad news, but the house-elves should not let this stop us from doing our jobs. We are here to serve the castle. If Hogwarts does not accept Scary Snape as its master, then neither do we anymore."
She wriggled her shoulders and puffed her chest out, trying to look braver than she felt. Straightening her skirt, she strode through the crowd of her waiting peers towards Dobby's pile of belongings. She rummaged amongst the clothes, eventually pulling out a knitted hat and jamming it on her head, ignoring the gasps from the rest of the elves.
"Dobby liked fun. Dobby liked to love. Dobby liked clothes. We should wear Dobby's hats to help us remember him and be free elves, too, just like Dobby."
Kreacher suddenly appeared by Flip's side. He glanced once at the pile of clothes, but didn't touch any of them. Instead, he turned to the waiting crowds.
"Kreacher worked with Dobby to track the sneak-thief Mundungus Fletcher for Harry Potter. Harry is a good master; even though he left Kreacher at Grimmauld Place, Kreacher knows there was a reason. Kreacher came to Hogwarts so he didn't have to be alone, and Dobby looked after Kreacher when he got here. Dobby believed that Harry Potter and his friends were okay, so Kreacher does, too."
"Dobby looked after the elves who were hurt when the darkness crept over the castle. He told us jokes and taught us that it was okay to be laughing, even when house-elves don't have much to smile about." Winky took hold of Flip's hand and held it tightly before continuing. "The castle used to be safe, but now it is dangerous to any elf or wizard who is not the Pure-blood. We get beaten because the Dark Lord and Professor Snape do not like the house-elves the way Dumbledore did. But Dobby helped us to get through that."
Flip stood taller than ever, buoyed by the strength of the two elves standing next to her. "Dobby was our friend. Not many of you were liking what Dobby thought and believed, but that is okay. He did the risky jobs that none of you wanted to do—like tidying the Gryffindor common room or helping Professor Sprout look after the nasty plants.
"Dobby would want us to look after the children, the ones who are kind and may grow up to be like Harry Potter. And if the time comes, the house-elves should fight to help the wizards win the war!"
Flip laced her fingers with Kreacher's, then lifted both her hands in the air, her heart pounding a loud tattoo in her rib cage. The elves stared at her unblinking, and Flip worried she might have said the wrong thing. Her ears drooped—without the other house-elves on her side, she would not be able to avenge Dobby the way she wanted.
Suddenly, the crowd of elves erupted in a loud cheer. They came forward, one by one, to tell Flip, Winky and Kreacher that they were on their side too. If the Dark Professors heard and came to find out what was happening, then all the better, in their opinion. The fight would just start sooner.
Together, they would fight for Dobby, for Harry Potter, and the hope that eventually, they could have a better life, too.