A/N: Here we go again! I've been working on this chapter for quite a while now, and I realized when it was only about 5/6 done that it was starting to get way way too long, so I decided to split it in half. The good news is this means that part 2 of this chapter will instead be the next chapter, and since it's well over halfway complete it will be published exactly one week from now. I hope this chapter and the one to follow will make up for the long wait, and (as always) please let me know what you think.
It was seven-thirty in the morning and Hermione was standing in front of a painting of a large bowl of fruit, trying to ignore the problem that had been gnawing away at her for the last week. She had a small basket of S.P.E.W. buttons over her left arm and a few dozen leaflets in her right hand.
She had woken early this morning, wanting to catch the house-elves before they started on breakfast. She had quickly thrown on her clothes, done one last run-through of the speech that she'd re-written last night, and hustled down to the basement of the castle, where she stood now.
She had tried coming down here once before, but the elves had been fully occupied with preparing dinner and so she had left quickly. Coming back today might not have been her best idea, she had to admit, but practically everyone else seemed disinterested in the house-elves welfare, so this was the only logical step. Her hope was that coming to talk in person would make the elves more amenable to ideas like freedom and wages and holidays. After all, Dobby had come to desire those things, so why not the rest?
Steeling her courage, she tickled the pear in the painting with her finger. It let out a somewhat unsettling giggle (it didn't even have a mouth!) and then turned into a green door-handle.
The kitchens were much less crowded this time. There were only two house-elves in sight: one tending to a grill and the other carrying a teetering stack of plates.
"Here, let me help," Hermione said without thinking, dropping her S.P.E.W. supplies on one of the large central tables and walking over to the elf's side.
"No no, not necessary," the elf squeaked, sidestepping around Hermione and depositing the stack next to the grill. She then snapped her fingers, levitating plates off the top and making a number of smaller piles.
"Can I help you, miss?" she asked, turning back to Hermione. "There's no food ready yet."
"Oh, I… I didn't come to ask for food."
That must be the only reason students would ever come down to visit the house-elves, Hermione thought. She couldn't help but feel ashamed on behalf of her classmates for taking advantage of them in that way; as if the house-elves didn't do far too much already!
"I wanted to give you something," Hermione continued, offering the elf a few leaflets and one of the S.P.E.W. badges. "Something to read, and if you agree, you can wear the badge and show the leaflets to the others!"
The elf took the leaflets, although she seemed tremendously confused, and gave Hermione a wary look as she walked away.
That hadn't been an ideal start, Hermione supposed, but at least she hadn't been chased away. Ultimately though, it would all come down to whether or not the leaflets would be convincing. After how badly her previous conversation with Dobby and Winky had gone she had made sure not to use the word "free" anywhere in the leaflets. She'd instead done a cost analysis of all the work that a typical house-elf does, and shown in the leaflet how a fair wage for them would be at least 11 Galleons and 6 Sickles a week. She'd also included a short section on laws in the non-magical world regarding vacation time (she hadn't been able to find any equivalents in the wizarding world, although surely they must exist).
Maybe the house-elves had been too brainwashed to like hearing about freedom, but if she could get them to accept pay and vacations then that was almost the same thing.
The other elf was busy scrubbing the grill and probably wouldn't be keen on being disturbed, so Hermione continued walking towards the rear of the kitchen, where there was an enormous brick fireplace. The elf that she had been speaking with had left through a large wooden door in the back wall, but there was also a smaller door off to each side.
Their living quarters were probably down here as well, come to think of it. Hopefully they were comfortable at least, and reasonably spacious. Hermione couldn't imagine that Dumbledore would stand for it if they were otherwise, but then again he seemed to have no qualms with the concept of slavery to begin with, so who knew.
Hermione was still sizing up the doors when the central one burst open and a familiar pointy-eared face looked up at her.
"Dobby hears from Tilly that one of his friends has come!"
Hermione smiled down at him. Dobby seemed much cheerier than when she, Ron and Harry had seen him with Winky.
"Hello, Dobby. I came down here to ask you-"
"Shh," he interjected, looking nervously at the house-elf by the grill. Hermione's heart sank; she had just noticed that Dobby was carrying the leaflets that she'd given to Tilly. "Dobby knows, but not here, miss."
He led her through the door on the right and into a long corridor. It was well-lit by a number of glowing white orbs unlike any Hermione had seen before, but the ceiling was barely high enough for her to walk upright. Dobby ushered her briskly past a long row of doors, all the way to the very end of the corridor. He opened the last door in the row and waved for her to go inside.
The room inside was much like the corridor: small but bright. There was a round window on one side that looked out under the lake, a miniature fireplace tucked in the opposite corner, and a soft-looking carpet that covered most of the floor.
"Please sit," Dobby said, gesturing towards an armchair next to the window. Hermione did, her knees nearly touching her chin.
Dobby came to stand next to her, his eyes still not quite level with her own.
"Is this your room?" Hermione asked, still taking it in. If so, it was nicer than she had expected.
Dobby nodded. "All the elves have a room like this, miss. Mostly bigger, since Dobby is the newest, but Professor Dumbledore makes sure we are comfortable."
There was silence for a moment. Dobby was wringing his hands together, having tucked the leaflets into his tea-cozy. His earlier cheeriness seemed to have evaporated away.
"Miss," he began, "you need to stop-"
He quieted abruptly, looking down at the ground.
"Miss, you needs to stop with - with..."
He fumbled for a moment with a leaflet, turning it over to look at the logo on the back page.
"... with S.P.E.W," he finished. "The house-elves… you are not understanding what they want."
"But it's not about what they want now," Hermione replied reflexively. "It's about what they might want, once they understand, and making sure that they have that chance!"
"We do understand," Dobby said, scanning quickly through the leaflet. "We already know everything in here that you want to tell us. And this life is what we wants, miss. To serve well, to care for a family or for students and to keep them happy, 'tis an elf's greatest joy! And so we do not want pay, because it is an insult to our way of life. It is not just a job to us, we do not think of it as a wizard would."
It didn't make sense to Hermione. However much they enjoyed having masters, it was still slavery, it was still abhorrent. It was just that this subjugation had such an old history in their race that they couldn't possibly see it for what it actually was.
"But that's only because they don't truly understand it, not properly," Hermione said, desperately trying to get through to Dobby. "If they were in your shoes and if they had ever known freedom as you did, then they would realize that they wanted pay and vacation just like you!"
Dobby bowed his head.
"Dobby had very bad masters, very very bad, and that was what gave Dobby the want to be free, nothing-"
He snapped his mouth shut, his eyes flickering over in the direction of an ornate lamp on the side-table. Hermione realized what was going on just in time and gently grabbed his thin wrist before he could move away.
"Thank you, miss, even now 'tis not easy to do," Dobby said quietly. He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice wavering slightly. "But Dobby is not like other elves, and sometimes he is shameful for how he feels about these things. The other elves, they are very happy with Professor Dumbledore, just like Dobby is. And please forgive me miss, but the other elves, they - they don't like the things you say when you is here, and they know Dobby is your friend, and they is not good to Dobby, they thinks there are big things wrong with Dobby, and even to Winky they is less good than they should be. You needs to stop, miss. Please."
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, infuriated both with herself and with the situation. She should have known that it was a bad idea to keep involving the elves directly. That tiny little voice of doubt had been screaming in her ear, but she had just ignored it completely.
And now, as she thought back to the time that Ron, Harry and herself had come down to the kitchens, she remembered how the other elves had distanced themselves when Dobby had talked about liking freedom. She should have realized that things were likely difficult for him, and that she was only making them worse.
This was her fault, but she could fix it. She could find other ways to help the house-elves without needing to involve any of them directly. Maybe this cause was something better left for once she had graduated and was working at the Ministry, anyway.
"Miss?" Dobby asked, looking down at the floor.
"I'm sorry, Dobby," she said sincerely. "I promise I'll stop trying to involve you or any of the other elves in this."
Dobby's mood changed quickly, a bright smile appearing on his face. "Thank you miss, thank you, Dobby knows that this is something important to miss, and Dobby is very grateful."
"Dobby must do something for you to say thank you," he continued. "Dobby can fetch some nice cakes from the kitchen to take with you and share with Masters Potter and Weasley? Or if there is any other favour that Dobby can help with, he is happy to serve."
As much as Hermione knew Ron and Harry would appreciate some cake, something about taking too much food from the kitchens made her feel guilty. Besides, it occurred to her, maybe Dobby could help her with her other problem, the one that had been worrying her for the last week. She'd been scared of it, and so she'd been putting it off because she had had no idea what to do about it. Without Harry's cloak it was far too risky to try the Shrieking Shack or Honeydukes (not that the Shrieking Shack would have been a particularly cozy spot anyway), and if she remembered correctly Fred and George had said the other secret passages were either known to Filch or else blocked off. It was a long shot, but if anybody might know about other areas in the castle or grounds that were off the beaten path, it would be a house-elf.
"Thank you Dobby, but I think Ron eats enough cake already without me bringing him extra. Could I.. could I just ask you to answer a question for me instead? I was wondering if you knew if there were any good, secluded places to... to have a date. I've been trying to find someplace quiet where nobody else will be able to stumble in, but the secret passages are all too risky, and... "
Hermione could feel herself turning red as she spoke, but she tried to ignore it.
"What is a date?" Dobby asked, his voice squeaking.
"Oh, it's.. it's.. it doesn't really matter, I just was hoping you would know of a nice quiet place somewhere in the castle. A good place for long conversations and stuff like that, where Mr. Filch or any of the other teachers won't patrol at night."
"Dobby does not know of any place exactly like that," he said, sitting down in a chair opposite hers, "but you could always try the Room or Requirement!"
"The Room of Requirement?" Hermione asked.
"It is also known as the Come-and-Go room, miss. Dobby has heard that it can transform into any kind of room in the world, depending on what the person using it needs. If you need food, it becomes a banquet hall with a feast. If you need water, it becomes a quiet, clear riverbank. Dobby reckons it could become whatever it is that you are needing from it too."
Hermione breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She had been full of bravado when she had said to Harry a week ago that she knew a perfect spot for a date, but it had turned to panic the next day when she'd realized she didn't know of a single suitable location in or around the castle. And now, not only had Dobby bailed her out, but from the sounds of things the Room of Requirement was, quite literally, the perfect place that she had been looking for.
Dobby told her where the room was and how to activate it, and she thanked him profusely as he walked her back towards the kitchens and into the main part of the castle. He seemed far far happier now, although he did make her give him the rest of the leaflets and buttons that she had made before he left.
While things hadn't gone at all as she had hoped, she supposed that they probably could have gone a lot worse, too. She hadn't had much time to promote S.P.E.W. recently anyway. It had been a full week since the reveal of the third task, and there was only a week left to prepare for it, so her and Ron had both set aside most of their other pursuits to help Harry. Between the three of them they'd come across a number of useful spells, and Harry was mastering them surprisingly quickly, but they still hadn't identified the snake-like creature on the orb that Harry had picked. He'd shown it to her and Ron the day after the reveal, but despite quite a few hours spent in the magical creatures section of the library, they were no closer to knowing what it was.
She should go back and take another look after Potions, Hermione thought. Maybe it was even worth asking Madam Pince for help. Harry hadn't seemed at all troubled by the orb, because after all it did seem like the carving was a type of snake, but Hermione was worried that using Parseltongue to control a three-headed serpent would be much harder than he expected.
By the time Hermione got back to the Great Hall, breakfast was nearly over. She took a seat across from Ron and then reached past Ginny, who was on her left, to grab herself a few spoonfuls of yoghurt and muesli.
"Did Harry come back yet?" Hermione asked the younger Weasley, hoping she could start a conversation. Harry was scheduled to train with Mad-Eye this morning for the second time. He'd made it back in time for breakfast after the first session a few days ago with a small handful of bruises and scrapes, although he'd said that Moody had been very helpful.
Ginny didn't answer. She didn't even look up from her already-buttered toast, which for some reason she had started to saw in half with her knife.
"Ron?" Hermione asked, once it had become clear that Ginny had gone selectively deaf.
Ron looked over at his sister, who was now slowly and deliberately quartering her toast. "Harry hasn't been back yet," he finally responded.
He hesitated a moment, and then slid a heavily-creased magazine over to Hermione. It was opened to the feature article, entitled 'Harry Potter's Darkest Desire'. The date was today's, and the name was that of Hermione's least favourite insect. Hermione sighed, having expected this to happen. This would probably be an especially nasty one, too - Rita was no doubt enraged by her brief imprisonment, and she had had all week to hone this article to make it as vicious as possible. Hermione was just about to start reading in earnest when the sound of somebody getting up to leave drew her attention away. It was Ginny, despite the fact that she hadn't actually eaten any of her toast.
"Ginny, why don't you-"
"I'm not hungry anymore," she snapped loudly over her shoulder at her brother as she walked away.
Ginny's dramatic exit drew the attention of the rest of the table, and Hermione exchanged puzzled glances with Dean and Seamus, who both shrugged. At least she wasn't the only one who didn't understand what was going on. Hermione would consider herself and Ginny to be good friends, and they usually talked fairly often, but that hadn't been the case recently. It seemed pretty obvious that Ginny had been avoiding her for the last few days, although Hermione couldn't fathom why.
"The article's almost funny, actually," Ron said quickly. "She dug up a horrible picture of Harry and uses it to do a blow-by-blow comparison of his physical appearance to Krum's, and then concludes that the only way Harry could have won a girl from him was through using Dark Magic."
Hermione tried to suppress a laugh, but only managed to turn it into a slight snort. It turned out that the picture Rita had chosen was one from second-year, and it showed Harry lying spread-eagled on the floor with his hair standing up on end, immediately after he'd been hit by Draco's spell at the Duelling Club. The caption read, 'Harry Potter, age 12'.
Hermione started to look through the article again, but Ron interrupted her.
"You should go talk to her," he said as he put down his fork, looking pointedly at the spot where Ginny had been sitting.
"I know," Hermione sighed. It was clear that Ginny was upset about something, although she hadn't the faintest idea what, and what with all the craziness happening lately with the Tournament, and Harry, and exams (Merlin's beard, she had to get on those soon!) she had been too busy to work things out with the red-haired girl.
"Do you know what it is that's upset her?"
Ron looked at her as though she had three heads. "I mean, I'd think it's pretty obvious."
Hermione stared at him blankly.
"Wait, you don't know?" he said, surprised. "I figured you had to. Just go talk to her, alright? The way she's been taking this is out of order, but I reckon she's right that you owe her an explanation."
Hermione drummed her fingers quickly across the top of the table, thinking about the various things she had to do today.
"Alright, I'll try and talk to her before Potions," she concluded. She quickly shovelled in a few last spoonfuls of her breakfast and then hustled out of the hall. She had no idea where Ginny had gone, but she headed in the general direction of the common-room, figuring that that was her best bet.
It was probably just Hermione's imagination, but she could have sworn that the number of people wearing 'Potter Stinks' badges had doubled over the course of the last week. The halls seemed full of them, and she had to elbow her way through more than one pack of jeering Slytherins. Even worse than that, though, were the people who whispered anxiously as she walked past. They would give her a sympathetic but half-scared smile, and a few would take a step towards her but then turn back to their friends, as if they were going to approach her but had thought better of it. It was probably not a coincidence, Hermione decided, that among those people were many of the girls that she had seen following Viktor when he would run by the lake.
Finally Hermione saw a flash of fiery hair disappearing around a corner, and she quickened her pace to pull level with its owner. Ginny typically walked to and from classes with a large group of girls from her year, but this time she was on her own.
"Ginny, can I talk to you for a second?" Hermione asked, slightly out of breath.
"I don't have anything to say to you."
"Ginny, I genuinely don't know what I-"
Ginny stopped abruptly, wheeling around to face Hermione. She was a couple inches shorter than Hermione, but the taller girl couldn't help but feel the slightest bit intimidated.
"I confided in you," she spat. There must have been a draft in the hallway, because the ends of her hair had started to bob about gently in the air.
"I told you what I thought about Harry. For two years now you've told me that I should just be myself, and that I should be patient, and that if nothing came of it soon I should think about moving on. And then while I was sitting back and waiting and wondering if I was wasting my time you swooped in and took him for yourself."
Hermione's jaw dropped in horror as she realized what she had inadvertently done to her friend. Ginny had a vibrant intensity about her now, and Hermione could have sworn that she had grown, because suddenly their eyes were level.
"No, that's not.. that's not how it was Ginny, that's not what I meant to-"
Hermione was frustrated at herself for how cliched her words sounded, but she didn't know how else to explain what had happened. She had never felt guilty for the advice that she had given, because for the last few months it had been as much for herself as for Ginny. She'd never thought that she had a chance with Harry, and she'd been trying to convince herself to move on too, but that didn't excuse the fact that when her opportunity had come along she'd completely forgotten about Ginny's feelings. She deserved every ounce of anger that Ginny had to throw at her.
"Don't you dare try and give me that," Ginny scowled. Hermione had to look up at her now in order to maintain eye contact, and when she glanced down she saw that Ginny was floating a good foot above the ground. "Don't pretend that you didn't know exactly what you were doing. You knew that you had to keep me out of the way if you were going to ever have a chance with him."
Ginny's wand was in her hand in a flash, and Hermione reached for hers before she even realized what she was doing.
"Volatilis Lutum!"
"Protego!"
Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex rebounded off of Hermione's Shield Charm, crashing into the wall with a thunk. A second later there was another thud, as Ginny's feet crashed back to the ground. She stumbled forward, off-balance, and Hermione put her hands out to keep her from falling.
Ginny pulled back from Hermione once she regained her footing, turning her face away from the older girl. She stood there for a moment, her breathing ragged. It took her three tries to steady her shaking hand enough to stow her wand in her pocket, and then she walked away without saying a word.
