Chapter Four: The Elf In The Room

"Come on, I'm fine-" Harry made a little show of waving his arms, spinning around on his heels, and hopping up and down in front of Madam Pomfrey, "Surely you don't want me to spend the last two days of term stuck in this bed, with nothing to do, all by my lonesome." Harry tried, giving her a sappy stare. She simply raised one hand, and pointed over his head, at the newly repaired window he had exploded in his rage the day prior.

After Lupin had left, and she returned to spot the damage, Madam Pomfrey had made quite a show of not letting anyone into the Hospital Wing to see him, claiming she didn't want him accidentally smashing anymore of her stuff.

Harry looked back at it guiltily. He had been known to occasionally lose his temper, sure, Aunt Marge had been proof of that. But this time was different. During his talk with Lupin, at the flip of a switch Harry had gone from conversational to fuming. It wasn't only anger either, Harry seemed to be feeling everything much more intensely than he had before that Dementor had gotten him. He still hadn't told either Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey the full truth about the Dementor, though he suspected Dumbledore knew he hadn't been one hundred percent accurate with his recounting of that night.

To be fair, Harry reasoned, Dumbledore hadn't told him everything either. He figured, when it was time for the truth to come out, they'd both say their piece. However this stubbornness didn't give him any better chance at getting out of the Hospital Wing.

"I can't Mr. Potter! The state of your magic, as well as your nasty temper, are a bad combo. Imagine if you were to get into an argument, and there was nothing around the smash. What if your magic decided it best fit to pitch a student off the Astronomy Tower? What would we do then?"

Harry's eyes went wide, "I wouldn't-"

"Of course you wouldn't Mr. Potter. You're the good sort. But what you would do isn't the issue here," She said to him, her voice lowering. "Magic is unpredictable, and more often the not, dangerous. I just want to keep you and everyone else safe." Harry sat down on his bed.

"Can I at least see my friends? I've been going mad up here alone." Harry said to her with a sideways glance.

"Well I suppose... Ms. Granger should be okay. She's a proper girl, listens to her elders... unlike you!" Madam Pomfrey jabbed. Harry smiled. He quite liked the back and forth they shared.

"And Ron?" Harry asked.

"No, surely not." Madam Pomfrey said decidedly. Harry's mouth fell open.

"Why not? Ron's my best mate!" He explained, gesturing with his hands to add emphasis to his plight. Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow.

"The Weasleys, while they are the good sort, bless them, are more loud and disruptive than any other family I've seen in all of my days Mr. Potter. What you need right now, is peace and quiet. That's final." She added at the end as Harry opened his mouth to speak.

Harry suppressed his annoyance the best he could. Setting his jaw.

"Yes Madam Pomfrey." He said stiffly. She tilted her head and gave him a look.

"Now don't be that way Mr. Potter, I'm only looking out for you here," she said, "Now I've got to go to the Owlery, and write a quick letter to Healer Thurman at St. Mungos. I'll be sure to get someone to fetch Ms. Granger and send her up for you." Harry nodded.

"'Kay," he said simply, "thanks."

She gave Harry a sad look. "I'm sorry Mr. Potter. I just want you to get better." The doors to the Hospital Wing clicked shut behind her.

"I know, Madam Pomfrey..." Harry said quietly to himself.

Harry was sitting up in his bed, mouth hanging open, counting the tiles on the ceiling of the Hospital Wing when the large oak doors clicked open. He didn't look to see who it was, careful not to mess up his count. He could hear the person's footsteps, as they slowly approached.

"H-Harry?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Shh!" Harry exclaimed sharply. '51, 52, 53...'

Hermione watched her friend in a nervous state. After escaping near death with Harry, she'd been ripped away from her best friend with no news of how he was faring. And now he was sitting in front of her, open mouthed, not responding to her. A full minute must have gone by like this. She felt her stomach curl in uncomfortable knots.

"Ninety-nine? Seriously?" Harry said suddenly, furrowing his brow.

"W-what? What are you talking about Harry?"

Harry pointed lazily toward the ceiling with one hand. "There's exactly ninety nine tiles on this ceiling. I tried to count them last year when my arm went all jelly," Harry said, wiggling his right arm in front of him, "But it was too dark."

Hermione looked like someone had hit her over the head with a pan, dazed. Harry looked down and met her eyes.

"Isn't that odd? Ninety-nine. We're all magic, why not just-" he made a gesture like waving a wand with his empty hand, "And boom, one hundred. Would be easy Hermione, we could just- Hey!"

Hermione had closed the gap between them, and was pelting Harry with the small punches she normally reserved for Ron.

"What did I do?" Harry asked, as she at last relented her assault.

"Harry James Potter! You and I almost get mauled by a werewolf, twice! Almost get our souls sucked out by Dementors; TWICE! And then your scar starts oozing blood, and they don't let me see you for two whole days, and you pull THAT?" Hermione huffed, hands balled in little fists at her waist. Harry looked at her for a moment.

"Sorry, what was I pulling?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Harry!" Hermione said, "I walked in here and you're all bandaged up! And you were- well you were-" Hermione found herself at a loss for words, so she plopped herself down into the bed next to Harry, who went, "Hey!" Hermione stared up at the ceiling with the same look Harry had before. She did have a point, he figured. She looked positively barking, staring blankly at the ceiling, mouth held open. Harry began to laugh. Hermione frowned.

"It's not funny Harry! I was worried!" She pouted, but as Harry laughed harder, she felt the bubbling of laughter begin in her throat. Harry calmed himself for a moment and said, "Hermione, Hermione; Who am I?"

He made the face again, staring up and this time moaning in a ghoulish sort of way.

Hermione snorted, before covering her mouth with her hand. Harry had begun to laugh too. Soon they were in hysterics. They leaned against each other for support, gripping their stomachs. It was like after all they'd been through, they'd just now remembered the joy of laughing.

*CRACK*

At the end of the bed, Fred and George appeared suddenly, one holding a cake, and the other holding an armful of assorted sweets. Both of them looked confused. A bit to their left, Ron wobbled uneasily on his good leg, before tumbling to the ground with a crash. Several bottles spilled from his hands, and rolled across the floor. Ron let out a string of swears. In between the twins and Ron, Dobby was looking frightened and exclaimed nervously, "Master Wheezy! Dobby is being so sorry," while bouncing around anxiously on his two elf feet.

Harry and Hermione inspected the scene, and turned to one another. Hermione looked perplexed, but Harry just continued howling with laughter.

*Earlier*

Ron grumbled angrily, sulking further into his plush armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room as he watched Hermione retreat out of the portrait hole. Ron had been told, in no indistinct terms, that he wouldn't be allowed to go see his best friend in the Hospital Wing. As soon as the portrait hole had swung shut, it swung open again, and Fred and George entered side by side. They spotted Ron, who looked positively miserable, and shared a wordless glance with one another. They made their way to him.

George crouched next to Ron, leaning into the left arm of the chair. Fred did the same on the right.

"Why the long face little bro?" Fred inquired. Ron simply glared at him.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He said grumpily, looking straight ahead, and at neither twin. "Go away." The twins shared another one of their signature looks.

"Blimey Ron!" George said excitedly, "Your ears are redder than our hair! Freddie, what's the status on the other ear?" Fred cupped his hands over his mouth.

"Well Georgie it's looking like-"

"Shut up! Why do you two never just leave it well alone!" Ron burst out. He stood quickly from the chair, strode purposefully across the common room, and toward the stairs to the boys dormitory. Fred and George were right on his heels as he begun to ascend.

"Hey little bro, I didn't mean anything by it, honest." George explained, keeping pace with Ron.

"We're just trying to get you to have a laugh!" Fred said to Ron's back, as he climbed the stairs two at a time. The twins followed him closely.

"Hey!" They said in unison as they reached the landing. Both of them put a hand on each of Ron's shoulders, and spun him around. He no longer looked angry, instead, he looked rather downtrodden.

"They won't let me see Harry..." He said, looking down. The twins shared another quick glance.

"Why's that? We just passed Hermione on her way to see him now-" Fred recounted.

"Oh yeah!" Ron began, "Oh Hermione is fine! She won't upset him at all, but I'm an 'excitable presence'" Ron explained with air quotes.

"Ahh" Fred expressed in understanding. Ron pouted, while George smiled.

"It's rubbish." Ron stated sourly.

"Well that leaves us only one choice dear brothers of mine." George said smugly.

"What's that?" Ron asked, arms crossed and head tilted.

"We throw Harry a secret party of course."

Fred and George leaned casually, arms crossed against the wall, a portrait of assorted fruit over their head.

"Are you two going to tell me the plan? I'm pretty sure we're not going to throw any sort of party sitting down here doing nothing." Ron observed, pouting.

"Ah, Ronniekins." Fred said fondly.

"You need to learn a little bit about the art of stealth." George suggested.

"Stealth? There's nobody-" Ron was cut off as three Hufflepuffs rounded the corner. Ron closed his mouth with a pop.

"Hey! Ceddy!" George called out, waving amiably. Cedric looked up from his conversation, and smiled.

"Hey... Fred?" Cedric asked, tilting his head.

"Right you are." said George.

"What are you three up to? Waiting for someone?" Cedric asked. One of Cedric's friends called out, "Oi, Ced! We don't really have time."

"Right, coming, sorry. We were gonna take advantage of the pitch before we all head home for the summer. You guys interested in some pick up Quidditch?" Cedric asked. Ron perked up, but Fred plopped his hand down on the top of Ron's head and ruffled his hair.

"Sorry Cedric, would love to, but we've got some business to attend to. Family stuff." Fred said, while Ron struggled out from under his hand, "Get off!"

"I gotcha, no worries. See you guys on the pitch next year!" Cedric called over his shoulder, continuing down the hall. He turned the corner, and Fred and George seemed to listen closely until their footsteps fell silent.

"Right-o!" George said, propping himself up from the wall. He moved to touch the portrait of the bowl of fruit, and Ron's eyes tracked his motions curiously. George reached up, and began tickling the pear, which illicit a schoolgirl like giggle. There was a click, and a bit of the wall swung back like a doorway.

"Brilliant." Ron said with wide eyes.

"Isn't it just?" Said Fred, "Now come along. Quickly."

The three of them ducked into the passageway, and the wall swung back into place behind them. They took a few steps, and the tiny hallway opened into a grand room.

Ron's eyes widened at the sight. It was a kitchen; the biggest he'd ever seen. Well, the biggest in total size, as most all the appliances had been sized down to fit their users. Dozens of house elves bustled around, carrying trays of snacks, sweets, and foods to be prepared. One Elf noticed them, and ran over excitedly.

"Hello young masters! How is we be helping you today?" The Elf asked, standing at attention. George knelt down to talk to him.

"Hello," he smiled, "If its not too much trouble, we were wondering if we could nick some sweets. Our friend is in the Hospital Wing and we were hoping to surprise him, cheer him up you know?"

The elf beamed.

"Yous is very kind! We'd love to be helping you!" The elf said happily, hurrying back over to the his fellow workers. Within seconds, elves were taking turns depositing sweets into their arms. Ron had trouble balancing the multiple bottles of butter beer he was presented with.

"Blimey, Harry's gonna get sick again just from eating all this!" Ron exclaimed, as an elf shoved a full cake into Fred's expectant hands.

"Harry?" A high pitched voice called from the bustle of chaos, one Elf rushed forward. "Is yous meaning Harry Potter?" This elf was different from the others, sporting a pair of rather exuberant purple and gold mismatched socks.

Fred smiled and nodded. "The one and only. Our resident hero has got himself into a bit of trouble-"

"Again," George amended.

"And he's tied up in the Hospital Wing." Fred finished. The Elf looked scandalized.

"Harry Potter is hurt!" The Elf cried, his ears curling downward. The gears in Ron's head had finally started to turn as he stared down at the socked Elf.

"Hold on, you're Dobby!" Ron said excitedly, "Harry has told me loads about you!"

Dobby, who had looked positively broken at the thought that Harry was hurt, suddenly beamed. His wide eyes began to tear up.

"Harry Potter talks of Dobby? Dobby is thrilled!" He exclaimed, bouncing in a small circle.

"I'm Ron, Ron Weasley; I'm Harry's best friend." Ron explained. Dobby's wide eyes went wider.

"Yous must be being a very great wizard to be best friends with the great Harry Potter!" Dobby said excitedly. Ron blushed, and was struck with an idea.

"You should come up with us!" Ron said suddenly, "I'm sure he'd love to see you."

If Dobby could have exploded with joy, he would have at that second. He seemed to jitter with excitement.

"Dobby would love to! Is we be going right now?" He inquired. Ron nodded.

"Yeah, 'course."

Dobby let out a squeal of excitement, bounding forward to drag Ron by his shirt toward the twins. He almost lost his balance, wincing as his bad leg took the brunt of the weight. Dobby reached out, and also took a fistful of Fred and George's shirts in his other hand.

The Weasleys all shared the distinct feeling of being vacuumed.

"And then, well, you know the rest I reckon." Ron said, finishing his story. He stuffed his mouth full with a whole croissant. Hermione looked appalled, but Harry grinned ear to ear. Harry took a small bite out of a pumpkin patsy.

"Love that Elf." Harry said fondly.

"I really do wish Dobby would have stayed longer," Hermione lamented, "I'd have loved to ask him more about his time working at Hogwarts."

Dobby had ecstatic about Hermione's inquisition. It seemed the only person the Elf looked up to more than Dumbledore was Harry. Dobby raved on about how wonderful his job was, how much better Dumbledore treated him than the Malfoys. Upon talking ill of the Malfoys, he tried to punish himself on reaction, grabbing a bottle of butterbeer from the floor and readying it to strike his own head, but Harry had popped up and snatched it from his hands. Dobby thanked him emotionally, before suddenly remembering he had a job to be doing.

"Dobby must be going! Please, do be feeling better soon Harry Potter!" And he had disappeared suddenly with another *CRACK*.

"I think it's great Dumbledore employs house elves. Keeps them away from dreadful families like the Malfoys." Hermione said to the two of them. They all sat cross legged on Harry's bed, picking at their sweets.

"You should have seen them Hermione," Ron said, swallowing a large mouthful, "It looked like they were in House Elf heaven."

"What I'm wondering is what kind of thing Fred and George have planned for 'interception'" Harry wondered aloud. The twins had departed soon after arriving, promising Harry a distraction for Madam Pomfrey. Hermione clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"No idea," Ron admitted, "But never mind that. Harry! You've got to tell me what happened." Ron pressed. Ron had a feeling Hermione had been keeping certain things about that night from him, and after a year of the time turner secret, Ron was fed up with things being kept from him.

"Ronald! I've told you about a dozen times what happened already!" She started.

"Hey-" Harry tried, but Ron's face had gone red.

"Yeah, well you'd think for someone with her nose constantly in a book you'd be able to tell a decent story!" Ron said, bits of food spewing from his mouth as he spoke. One bit caught Harry on the cheek.

"Guys can we please-"

"Oh that's rich Ronald, I'd be delighted to hear what you have to offer about that night. Except, oh no, you were sleeping!" Hermione said back, huffing and crossing her arms.

"Yeah? Well you're a right-"

"Enough!" Harry belted out. The cake that Fred has left on their bedside table exploded with Harry's outburst. Hermione let out a little scream, and Ron exclaimed "Bloody hell!" As cake and frosting coated the room. They all sat in cake covered silence.

"Sorry... I'll tell you whatever you wanna know, Ron." Harry said.

"Harry you don't have to say anything you don't want to." Hermione replied. Ron sneered at her through a layer of frosting.

"No you guys are my best friends, it's fine but," Harry raised his arms in a gesture, "Hermione do you know a spell for this?" Harry had gotten the worst of it, almost his whole front was painted with cake.

"Oh, right, yes, sorry!" She said, brandishing her wand. She pointed it at each of them in turn, "Scourgify! Scourgify! Scour- Ron you cannot seriously be eating the cake."

Ron sort of shrugged, as Hermione cast, "Scourgify!"

Over the next thirty or so minutes, Harry recounted everything that had happened to him. How he and Hermione had gone back in time, how they'd saved Buckbeak, escaped Professor Lupin, and how Harry had fought off the Dementors. At that point, Ron had exclaimed, "Wicked!"

Harry wrapped up his tale with Madam Pomfrey's long examination, and her diagnosis of him. Hermione looked concerned and Ron looked confused.

"But, why has your magic gone all wonky then?" Ron queried. Harry shared a look with Hermione. Harry took a deep breath.

"What I'm gonna tell you guys, you can't tell anyone. Not Dumbledore, not anyone." Harry said, looking between his two friends. "You've got to swear."

Both of them looked rather put out. But at Harry's firm stare, Ron relented.

"Yeah okay mate. I swear." Ron declared loyally. Harry looked at Hermione, who seemed troubled.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, "Can you promise you won't tell Dumbledore?"

She chewed her bottom lip nervously, and had started fidgeting with her hands. She looked like she was having a debate in her head.

"Okay. I won't tell him Harry." Hermione said after a pregnant pause. "Promise." Harry nodded and took a shaky breath.

"So, when I was at the lake, the first time I mean. I couldn't fight them off. There were dozens of them. My Patronus, it was so weak, it didn't even phase the Dementors. One of them came up close and it," Harry swallowed, "It lowered its hood." He looked up at Ron, "I couldn't even describe it to you. It's face... it was like what I'd imagine a dead person's face would look like after they've been in the ground awhile. Like it was... decaying. It had no eyes. T-There were just these, empty sockets. And it's mouth was..." Harry trailed off. Hermione felt a cold shiver work it's way up her arms and land in her shoulders.

"It took my head in its hands. They were so cold; I almost blacked out, but I couldn't- I wasn't just gonna let it kiss me. I closed my mouth and I held it shut and I thought I was done for." Harry said, wiping his sweaty hands on his bedsheets.

"But it didn't kiss me, not exactly. You see it... well I guess it's easier to just show you." Harry said, reaching up to his head bandage. He began to undo the wrappings, and in his memories he briefly saw Quirrel unwrapping his turban to reveal Voldemort.

Harry peeled off the bandage, and revealed his scar to them. He imagined it must look pretty gnarly, as Hermione gasped and Ron's face went pale.

"It went for my scar." He said to them. Ron gulped hard. Hermione was staring at his scar transfixed.

"After that I passed out. I had some dreams. But... they weren't normal... It was like... Like I wasn't myself. Like I was someone else." Harry swallowed hard. "It was like I was Voldemort. Like I was living Voldemort's life through his eyes." Harry said, trying to gauge Ron's reaction. He went from pale to a sort of sickly green.

"I can't remember most of the specifics. I remember an orphanage. He hated it there. They were horrible to him, they beat him... they..." Harry took another shaky breath, he was trembling, "I remember this shack too- in this grove, it was... I dunno. It's all kind of blurry." Harry continued.

"The only thing I remember really well," Harry said, "Is watching Voldemort kill my parents."

Harry had stunned his two friends into silence. Hermione was frozen, not a muscle in her body had any intention of moving. She had known about this much already, but the adrenaline of the night had clouded her thoughts, and she hadn't been able to properly digest the information. Now however, it was staring her in the face. He was thirteen, they were thirteen!

Ron opened his mouth a couple times, but couldn't manage any sound. Harry couldn't blame him, what could you possibly say to something like that? Harry's head fell, and he picked at his bedsheets.

Ron took a deep breath through his nose, and said, "But you're okay now."

Harry and Hermione both sported identical looks of slight surprise. Ron steeled himself.

"And we can figure this out. We've been through loads of stuff together, mental stuff, and we always figure it out. Sometimes not until the last minute, but we always win." Ron said proudly. Harry looked at him with something akin to awe. He felt his chest tighten with emotion.

"We can beat this too." He claimed loyally.

"Ron..."

"Ron's right." Hermione said from next to Harry. He turned to look at her now. "We'll get to the bottom of this. I'll go through every book in the library-"

"You mean you haven't already?" Ron added. Hermione shot him a shrewd look.

"I'll read every book I can find about Dementors. Every book that even mentions them!" Hermione said, placing a hand over Harry's. Harry's eyes darted to his hand, and then back to her face. His insides felt twisted up by all of the emotions he felt.

"Hermione there's only a day left before the summer holiday." Harry reminded her.

"Then," Hermione began, dropping her feet to the floor and standing, "I'll start now. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will give me a note, I could even start in the restricted section to save time-" Hermione stopped, as Harry reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"No," He said, tugging on her hand gently, "Please. I just want you two to stay with me a bit longer. If that's alright."

Hermione allowed herself to be pulled softly toward the bed, and she plopped down next to him again. She inspected Harry closely.

"Well I'm not going to the bloody library." Ron said. Harry chuckled, and even Hermione cracked a grin. Ron reached down to the floor and pulled up three bottles of butterbeer. He passed one to each of his friends.

Harry could have cried. Harry finally understood what Dumbledore had told him, had been telling him since first year. A force more powerful than any magic. Harry felt an overwhelming love for his friends.

"Blimey, look at that!" Ron exclaimed, pointing out of the window. Harry and Hermione swiveled their heads to see.

Small snowflakes were drifting gently downward. It looked odd, hundreds of little white dots littering their view of the lush green fields of Hogwarts.

"It's snowing," Hermione examined, "It's snowing in July."

"Yeah," said Harry, "Yeah it is."