I own nothing but the plot.
Crystal City of Chaleydonia - Christophsis
General Traag Kaabacus stood in front of the window overlooking the plaza many floors below. It was a clear morning with very little haze. The forest of crystal trees was visible in the distance, and the sky was a brilliant bluish-green. The office he was currently occupying was near the top of the tallest building in the complex. The two massive towers, connected halfway up, used to be the Kyber Mining Guild's business centre. It would be again, he knew. For now, though, it was his headquarters.
Traag Kaabacus was a tall human with hair that had started greying too soon. His black military uniform was crisp and clean, and he stood straight as the leader of a rebellion should.
The usual sight of pedestrian traffic in the plaza below was absent. No queuing lines of people waited impatiently to buy breakfasts at street vendor carts. No boys carrying both essential and trivial messages darted through masses of people for minuscule wages. The crowds themselves were gone as well.
It wasn't entirely devoid of people. Here and there, he could see small squads of his soldiers as they patrolled the plaza. No one challenged them. All of the population in the Crystal City of Chaleydonia was in lockdown. Not everyone had agreed with the necessity of stopping trade with the Republic. Some of the troublemakers had tried to stop him from taking over. They made it necessary to enforce a curfew. Eventually, Traag had to order a complete lockdown when the curfew didn't work. The troublemakers had caused hardships for all.
The door opened behind him, and Colonel Cobb Karma, his second in command, entered. "General, the daily reports are ready."
Colonel Karma had served with him for many years. They were not related but shared the same basic look. They were tall, fit men with angular faces. He gestured at Karma to sit and then sat behind his desk. It used to be the Kyber Mining Guild's union chief's desk, and it would be again. For now, though, it was a very nice desk.
"The city is secured, General," Karma said, handing over a data tablet and keeping one himself. "All pockets of resistance have been rooted out as of this afternoon."
"Excellent," Kaabacus said, skimming through the reports. "What news of the Republic?"
"They continue to probe our blockade," Karma reported, "but have not been able to gain access to the planet yet. We anticipate they will begin to succeed soon, though. We cannot hold out forever, General."
"Forever?" Kaabacus responded, shaking his head. "Of course not. We only need to hold out until they meet our demands. Have they responded yet?"
"Yes," Karma answered, scrolling through the relevant data to display it, even though he already had it memorised. "More of the same. We are ordered to dismantle our blockade, release President Bragg, release everyone else, and surrender. They have offered no concessions."
"None at all?" Kaabacus asked, his eyebrows raised. "Surely, their supply of kyber must be running low by now."
"If it is, they're not showing it," Karma said. "Republic forces have not reduced their inter-system patrols, they haven't scaled back their forces, and they haven't slowed their probing of our defences. If they're bluffing, they're going all out to sell it."
Kaabacus scrolled through a few more pages of text. "This will bear thought. It is unlike the Republic to be this stubborn about their kyber supplies. Could they have found a new supplier?"
"It's possible, of course," Karma answered. "If so, they've been remarkably closed-lipped about it."
The door to the General's office opened to admit a nervous-looking young man. He was about sixteen years old and wore a silver medallion on his chest. The medal designated him as an official messenger boy and allowed him access to nearly anywhere he needed to go without being accosted by the guards.
"General?" the boy asked.
"This is a private meeting," Colonel Karma snapped, irritated at the interruption.
"I beg your pardon, Colonel, but I have a priority message for the General."
"Get on with it, then." Karma couldn't stand the messenger boys of this world. There were too many opportunities for one of them to cause trouble.
The boy quickly crossed the room and gave General Kaabacus a sliver of crystal.
"That will be all," Kaabacus said, taking the data crystal. He handed the boy a small, translucent blue coin in payment. Bowing, the boy took the coin and left, closing the door behind him.
Kaabacus took out a data tablet and inserted the crystal into a port on its side. The display lit up, and the General quickly scanned the data. He read one portion several times. His hands gripped the tablet so hard that the fragile display crystal cracked.
"What is it?" Karma asked.
Kaabacus didn't answer. He kept staring at the text through the spiderweb of cracks spreading over the display.
"General?" Karma asked again.
Kaabacus looked up from the display and stared at his friend.
"I've found him," he whispered.
Harry Potter was sitting at the dining room table. A large cake was in front of him, with thirteen lit candles evenly spaced on top. The candle flames danced with the air currents as most of the crowd surrounding him sang. The Granger family were joined by Doc, Shooter, Toma, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.
"Happy Birthday, dear Harry," the group sang, more or less in tune.
"Happy Birthday to you!"
Shooter had joined in the singing, having been coached by Hermione in the lyrics and tune. He substituted Harry's name for his rank of Commander. Doc and Toma had listened quietly but clapped with the rest when the singing had finished.
"Now you blow out the candles," Hermione told Harry, "and make a wish."
"What do I wish for?" Harry asked.
"That's up to you," Sirius answered. "You're not allowed to say what it is, though, or it won't come true."
"What is the logic behind that?" Harry laughed.
"You want logic?" Sirius asked, pretending to be offended. "You're a wizard, Harry. You play games with the laws of reality on a daily basis. There is no logic!"
"He has a point," Hermione said, thinking about it. "The magical world doesn't have much in the way of logic."
"Enough talking," Sirius complained. "Blow out the candles. It's time for cake and presents."
Harry blew out all the candles and glanced at Hermione, who was smiling at him.
"I want a corner," Sirius declared.
"Don't be greedy," said Remus, trying to rein Sirius in. "You've eaten an entire box of Chocolate Frogs already."
"There was a decided lack of sugar in Azkaban," Sirius protested. "I have to catch up."
"Enough," Emma Granger said sternly, giving Sirius a mock reproachful look. "I can fully appreciate wanting to reclaim your lost youth, but not at the expense of Harry's cake!"
"Yes, Mother," Sirius said, trying and failing to repress a grin.
"All that sugar isn't good for your teeth, anyway," Emma scolded.
After they'd finished dessert, they all gathered in the living room, where a pile of presents awaited Harry. He received several cookbooks from Emma. He had never cooked anything more complicated than field rations before this summer. When he had first arrived at the Granger's house after the shortened school year, he was not in a stable frame of mind. He had felt rejected by the Jedi when they all but ignored him for four months. The weight on his shoulders of having to command troops, combined with the guilt he felt when those troops were hurt or killed, had left him shaken.
It had all boiled over when he found out the creature had attacked Hermione. Harry had lost control of his magic, the Force, and himself. While the outcome was ultimately positive, several deaths occurred, including his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart. It was a dangerous brush with the Dark Side of the Force.
Emma didn't know what that truly meant, but she recognised that the young man was hurting badly. He was able to keep his emotions mostly hidden from Hermione, but Emma could tell something was bothering him. She was a dentist, not a mental health expert, but dentists often were the first to see the effects of depression and other mental health issues due to their impact on the patient's teeth. While Harry's teeth were fine, she had also learned a lot about body language.
Harry's meditation sessions with Toma had helped, but a maternal role was missing from the young man's life that the Jedi Master could not fill. When Harry expressed an interest in learning how she cooked their meals, she decided to cultivate that interest by improvising culinary therapy sessions.
As Harry and Emma chopped and prepared vegetables and meats together, they would talk about the previous year's events and how things had gone so very wrong. He was getting very good at cooking, and everyone enjoyed the results.
Her talks with Harry also had the unfortunate side effect of damaging her opinion of Toma. When the Grangers first met Harry, they knew that Toma had taken him from an unsuitable home. They were told that Dumbledore had dropped Harry at his Aunt and Uncle's house and that Toma had taken Harry from them. Before her talks with Harry this summer, she hadn't completely processed that Toma had taken an infant without any legal authority to do so. Now, she struggled to reconcile Toma's image as a parental figure with the image of Toma as Harry's kidnapper.
The group gathered in the living room to watch Harry open his presents. Dan Granger's gift to Harry was an antique pocket watch with a repeater chime. It had been in the Granger family for several generations, but Dan felt he owed the young man. Harry's actions to not only avenge the attack on Hermione but to openly defy the government to obtain the medicine she needed had been perfectly acceptable in his book. He steadfastly ignored how close the young Jedi was with his daughter but was secretly pleased.
Dan had privately noted to Emma his observation that Harry hadn't acted for four months to break that ridiculous law that prevented the import of a medicine that could restore his petrified Jedi Master. The young man had done so in four minutes as soon as he learned a Gorgan had attacked their daughter.
Remus gave his gift next. He handed Harry a photo album filled with pictures of his parents and promised to tell him as many stories about them as Harry wanted. As soon as Sirius Black had been officially cleared of all charges, Remus had contacted him. The healers at St. Mungo's had done all they could for Sirus but were concerned about him living alone after so many years of wrongful imprisonment. Remus was afraid that Sirius would be unable to forgive him for believing, even for a moment, that he could have betrayed James and Lily. Once Sirius had learned of Remus's extensive attempts to find Harry, though, Sirius not only forgave his friend but asked him to move in with him as well.
Remus had told Harry and the Grangers about his 'furry little problem,' as Sirius called it, immediately. He didn't want any incidents or accidents, and as he intended to spend time with Harry, he needed to be told. Though Remus was anxious about it, Harry and the Grangers accepted him without hesitation.
Hermione was anxious about whether Harry would like the book of runes she had gotten him, but he did. They would pick their electives this year, and he had taken an interest in the subject. Harry had never forgotten that Dumbledore had once told him that his scar was likely the result of a rune his mother had used, and he wanted to learn more about it.
Doc didn't have a present for him since she hadn't known of the tradition and no one had thought to inform her. She did wish him a happy birthday, though.
Shooter also hadn't known of the local traditions but handed Harry a small blaster pistol as a present. It was much smaller than a regular blaster pistol and was easily concealed. It was just a thin, short tube with finger indentations as a grip and a trigger button for the thumb. Small buttons in the finger grips acted as a safety.
Sirius had waited till his was the last gift. He handed Harry a small, gift-wrapped box. Harry accepted it and read the tag aloud.
"To Harry, From your Dogfather," he chuckled.
"Dogfather?" Remus asked quietly. "If you're his Dogfather, what does that make me?"
"His Lycanthruncle?" Sirius whispered back after a moment of thought. Remus shook his head and tried not to laugh. They watched Harry open the present, which contained a large ring. The ring was white gold with a large, square-cut emerald in the setting. An engraving on one side showed two dogs facing a shield with two stars, a chevron, and a sword. On the other side was an engraving of a banner displaying the motto 'TOJOUS PUR'.
"It's... very striking," said Emma looking at it over Harry's shoulder.
"That is the Black Family Heir ring," explained Sirius.
"What?" Harry exclaimed, looking up in shock.
"It is traditionally worn by the heir of House Black. I wore it myself when I was your age until I ran away from home at age sixteen. I found it when I went back home a few weeks ago."
"Shouldn't you save this to give to your children?" Harry asked.
"That's kind of the thing," Sirius said with a sad smile. "I spent ten years in... not very good conditions. The healers tried everything they could, but I'm afraid there's nothing they can do. I can no longer have children."
Emma put her hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry," said Harry.
"Don't be," Sirius replied. "To be honest, it's not a bad thing. The house of Black has always tended to be dark. I'm probably the first head of House Black in several hundred years to be opposed to the Dark Arts at all. I can think of no better way to 'honour' my family name than by giving all their gold to you. The Potters have always been on the side of the light."
"What does this mean?" Harry asked. "It's not that I don't love the gift, I do. But..."
"It only means that I have named you my heir," said Sirius. "There's no titles or anything like that. You don't have to name your kids after me. You don't even have to get married if you don't want to. It's mostly a holdover from long ago when the House of Black was held in a lot better opinion than it is now. Now it's not much more than a symbol. You can do whatever you like with the money when I die."
"Thank you," said Harry. "I hope that doesn't happen for a long time."
"Don't worry," Sirius reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere. I did feel that I had to do this as soon as possible, though."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Because," Sirius explained, "if I die without an heir, the Malfoy family gets it all."
"They are, at least, related to you," Harry pointed out. "Won't they be upset about this?"
"You're related to me too," Sirius said. "Your Grandmother Dorea was born Dorea Black. I don't pretend to know the details of your situation, but your father was my best friend for many years. Therefore, I know that, unless you've been incredibly wasteful with your money, the Potter fortune was about on par with the Black fortune. At least it was until the Ministry was kind enough to nearly double mine a few weeks ago. You're wealthy, but not obscenely so. On the other hand, the Malfoy family had at least ten times as much gold as either of us, the last I heard. If they do get upset, then they are just greedy. Young Draco has no cause to complain, nor does his mother."
"Yes, yes," Dan interjected. "You're all immensely wealthy. You can discuss your fortunes and golden thrones later. Let's get on with the party."
"Golden thrones?" Sirius asked with a laugh. "No, something like that would belong to the Lestrange family. They're worth at least twice what the Malfoy family was, at least the last I knew. As I recall, old Roderick Lestrange actually did have a golden throne at some point."
"Who are the Lestranges?" Hermione asked.
"An old family, Sirius answered. "They're all dead or in prison, now."
"What happened to their money if they're all in prison?" Dan asked.
"Oh, Sirius answered, "it's all still in Gringotts. The Goblins don't recognise wizard law. If any of the Lestranges ever got out of prison, they'd be insane and wealthy."
"Don't you mean insanely wealthy?" Dan asked.
"I phrased it very carefully," Sirius answered.
"So," Dan continued, "do the goblins keep it all if they die in prison?"
"No," Sirius said. "They don't recognise wizard law, but they honour their own laws religiously. The inheritance stays in the family. If the line dies out, it passes to the closest family by marriage." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose that would be me. My cousin Bellatrix married Rodolphus Lestrange right out of Hogwarts. She is... not sane. She never was. At their wedding ceremony, she and Rodolphus joined Voldemort as Death Eaters and went on a murderous spree for their honeymoon. They were right up in his inner circle. A few days after I was sent to Azkaban, they were caught, along with Rodolphus's brother Rabastan, torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom. They, at least, rated a trial. They were all sentenced to life in Azkaban and are still there now."
Everyone was silent for a few minutes. The party had taken a definite dampening of enthusiasm.
"I'm sorry," Sirius said, realising that he had brought the party atmosphere to a grinding halt. "I should go."
"Please stay," Emma said. "We're going to make some popcorn and watch a few movies, and I think you'll enjoy them."
Remus had told Emma privately that Sirius was still swinging frequently from periods of giddy highs to crushing lows. The episodes of severe depression were challenging for Sirius to handle by himself, and she knew he shouldn't be left alone. Harry and Hermione helped convince Sirius to stay, and the mood lightened considerably.
"He's still having episodes?" Harry asked later that night. The party ended after a few movies and another round of cake. He was helping Emma clean up in the kitchen while Hermione straightened up the living room. Dan had gone with Remus to keep Sirius company. Emma strongly suspected that her husband's immediate future would include passing around a bottle of firewhiskey.
"Harry," Emma gently said, "Sirius will eventually find a new normal, but I think he will have issues with this for a very long time. Maybe even for the rest of his life. He avoided dealing with it as a fugitive, as all of his attention was on avoiding getting caught and getting to you. Now that he's free, it's catching up to him."
"I thought he was seeing a mind healer," Harry said. He used a clean dishcloth to dry the dishes Emma was washing and then put them away.
"He is," Emma said, "but healing from what he went through is not easy or quick. He has a lot of anger to resolve and a lot of guilt."
"Sirius has nothing to feel guilty for," Harry protested.
"Logically speaking," Emma explained, "no, he doesn't. The mind is not always a logical thing, though. He feels guilty for going after Peter Pettigrew that Halloween night instead of insisting on staying with you. Sirius feels that if he had stayed with you, he wouldn't have been sent to prison, and he would have raised you as his son. He's also struggling to process how he feels about Toma."
"What about Toma?" Harry asked, confused.
"Sirius sees in Toma what he feels he should have been to you," Emma said. "He likes Toma just fine, but at the same time, he's envious of him. Then he feels guilty for being envious. Then he feels angry at the Ministry for taking away his chance to raise you, and the cycle continues."
Harry heard the glass he was holding clink against the ring he now wore. He hoped that Toma wouldn't have a problem with this. Harry had a commitment to the Jedi and was already feeling conflicted enough. He couldn't blame Sirius, though. He was sure it would work out.
"Merlin," Sirius groaned, "what was I thinking? He hates it."
"He does not hate it," Dan said. "He was just surprised, that's all."
Sirius, Remus, and Dan were all sitting at the table in 12 Grimmauld Place drinking firewhiskey. Sirius had gulped down three already, and Remus planned to switch him to butterbeer after this round.
"It was a lot for Harry to process at once," Remus said. "Give him some time, Sirius. He's had a lot going on for him as well."
The only answer Remus received was a snore. Sirius had fallen asleep in his chair.
The following day dawned far too bright for Dan Granger. The anti-hangover potion Remus had given him staved off the worst of his headache, but he still wasn't feeling completely restored. He had spent the night on Sirius' couch since Remus had decided they had drunk far too much to risk apparating Dan home.
Emma, who had guessed he wouldn't be home, sniffed slightly at the smell of alcohol that still seeped from his pores but only asked how Sirius was doing.
When the doorbell rang, Harry had just finished frying some eggs and bacon for everyone. Shooter and Doc took the watchful positions they always did when someone unexpectedly came to the door.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Emma said, greeting Albus Dumbledore at the door. "Please come in."
Dumbledore came in carrying a small package wrapped in brown paper. Shooter and Doc relaxed as the Headmaster entered the house.
"Thank you, Mrs Granger," he said. "I've come to call on Mr Potter if he is available."
"Of course," Emma said, gesturing him to the dining room. "We were just about to have breakfast. Please join us."
"Thank you," Dumbledore said, smiling. "If it's not too much trouble?"
"No trouble at all," Emma said.
Harry was just setting out the meal. Emma had Dumbledore sit at the table while she rushed into the kitchen to get another set of dishes.
"Happy Birthday, Mr Potter," Dumbledore said. "I have a present for you."
Dumbledore accepted a plate of food from Harry and handed him the wrapped parcel.
"Thank you, sir," Harry said, taking the package and looking it over. It was a small parcel, but he was wary of it. The last small box he had opened had a massive ring in it, attached to an inheritance. He opened it. Inside, sitting on a red velvet cushion, sat what appeared to be a small, clear marble made of crystal or glass.
"That," Dumbledore said, "is a memory projector. It is of my own design. Simply hold it to your forehead and concentrate on a memory. It will be projected out so others can view it as well."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said.
"I will, of course, caution you that you should be careful what you share and with whom," Dumbledore said. "I thought you might show your friends a bit about where you usually spend your summers."
"I'll do that, sir," Harry said.
"I wonder, however," Dumbledore asked, "if you would help me with a problem that has presented itself?"
"Of course," Harry answered. "What can I do?"
"I trust you remember Dobby?" Dumbledore asked.
"I could never forget him," Harry said. "Is he alright?"
"In a way, yes," Dumbledore answered, "and in a way, no. He is happy to be free of the Malfoy family. However, we could not do anything for his legs, so his ability to do work has diminished. This is causing him a great deal of unhappiness. He is having some difficulties adjusting to his new physical situation."
"Why should he have to work if he has no legs?" Hermione asked in a strained voice. "Hasn't he given enough?"
"Most assuredly, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. He turned back to Harry. "In fact, I offered to employ him at Hogwarts and ensure he was only assigned limited duties, but he is adamant. He wishes to work for you, Harry."
"For me?" Harry asked. "I don't want a slave."
"Certainly not," Dumbledore said. "Dobby was a slave to the Malfoy family and has known no other life. The darker elements of our society indeed mistreat some house-elves. It is not, however, normal. Most people with house-elves treat them as members of their family. That is what I hope you can provide for Dobby. You will find him eager to assist you, and you may even have to restrain him from assisting too much. Weighing his current disability against the tenacity of house-elves, you may find it challenging to find ways to keep him from overtaxing himself."
"But Dobby wouldn't be a slave?" Hermione asked.
"I cannot imagine that Mr Potter would ever treat anyone in that fashion, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. Hermione blushed and subsided.
"I want to help him, Master," Harry said to Toma. Toma, who had been listening quietly, nodded to him.
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "I will remove the wards monitoring for him from this home. You may call him at any time. The bond will form on its own. I wish you a Happy Birthday, Mr Potter, and hope you enjoy the rest of your summer." The Headmaster turned to leave, then stopped and addressed Harry again.
"I nearly forgot," he said. "Have you both given thought to your electives for next year? You will receive an owl within a week asking you to select them."
"We have," Harry answered. "I'll be taking Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures."
"I'm going to try to take them all," Hermione said.
"Those are excellent choices, Mr Potter," Dumbledore said. "Miss Granger, I admire your enthusiasm, but I ask that you reconsider. While accommodations can be made to adjust your schedule to take all the classes, I can say from experience that it would be a most unenjoyable year for you."
"But I really enjoy learning, and it all sounds fascinating," Hermione said. "I really want to try."
"The two additional classes would prevent you from having any free time at all, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said. "You would have little to no time available for friends or even Hogsmeade visits. If you are adamant about making an attempt and have your parents' permission, I will advise Professor McGonnagal to contact you with the details. I will reiterate, however, that I do not recommend it."
"I think," Emma said, "that perhaps you should stick to the three choices you originally made."
Hermione looked disappointed but nodded her agreement.
"I bid you all enjoy the rest of your summer, then," Dumbledore said in farewell.
Traag Kaabacus stood on the landing platform, watching the hangar crew load his ship. Colonel Karma stood next to him. A worried frown had replaced the blank look of emotionless professionalism that Karma usually wore on his face.
"General," Karma said, "I beg you not to go. This is gone beyond her now."
"Nothing is beyond her, my friend," Traag said. "Everything that has happened has led to this moment. I've found him, and I will not rest until I have avenged her!"
"You are abandoning us," Karma growled. "All of us! You are the driving force behind this. The rebellion will fall apart without you."
"You know my motivations," Traag said. "I cannot sit here and preside over yet another trade dispute over pointless concessions and labour disagreements when I know where my tormentor hides. I will ask you one final time. Will you help me, or must I do this alone?"
"I knew this would happen someday," Karma admitted. "I knew it, and I let it happen. There is injustice here. Someone must answer for it. Your tragedy is in the past. It was wrong, and I understand your need for vengeance, but there is still tragedy here now, in this time. The people have said 'no more,' but they cannot stand alone. This movement has a voice. What it needs is a leader."
"Then stay and be that leader," Traag said. He hadn't met his friend in the eye but stood in one spot watching the workers lifting the last of the boxes into the cargo hold.
"Even supposing you find him, he is a Jedi," Karma protested. "You'll be alone."
"I have sent Saang Bask ahead," Traag said. "He will find people on this planet 'Earth' to help me. Besides, I have her memory on my side. I cannot fail."
"But we still can!" Karma yelled. "At the least, send someone else to help Bask find the Jedi on this planet, and then send for you. Stay and help us that long, at least."
Traag considered this, then nodded his agreement.
"Only until he is found," he said. "I will not stay a moment longer than that."
"Whom will you send?" Karma asked, relieved he had talked some sense into his old friend.
"Klang!" Traag called out. A smaller man with similar features came over. He was Traag's younger brother. He had been inspecting the cargo being loaded.
"Yes, Brother," Klang asked.
"I have a critical mission for you, Brother," Traag said.
After shaking hands with his brother, Klang entered the ship. It was a small transport vessel, and Traag had it loaded with enough supplies for a long journey. He took his place at the pilot's seat. An RX-Series pilot droid occupied the left-hand seat. It was using its three arms to perform pre-flight checklists.
The ship's engines wound up to a roar as it raised itself off the hangar floor. It retracted its landing gear, pivoted to line up with the open hangar doors, and flew away.
"Dobby," Harry called. He winced as he remembered the last time he had tried this. Hoping to get some answers, he had tried to call Dobby in Hogwarts the previous school year. Dobby had appeared with no legs and was rapidly bleeding out. Dobby would have died without Tonks getting him to the hospital wing on time and the Troopers' technology.
With a loud crack, Dobby apparated into the Granger living room. He appeared a foot above the ground, which would have been a perfect landing if he still had legs. He seemed to hover for just a moment before dropping to the floor. There was a clanking noise as the limb caps he still wore impacted.
"Dobby!" Hermione cried, and she rushed over to the house-elf. "Are you alright?" she asked as she helped him sit up.
"Dobby is okay," he answered. He looked around himself. His face lit up when he spotted Harry. "Master Harry Potter!"
"Dobby," Harry said, "Headmaster Dumbledore told me you wanted to work for me."
"Oh, yes," Dobby said in his high-pitched voice. His face fell as he looked at the stumps of his legs. "If Master Harry Potter would accept the service of half an elf."
"I will," Harry said. "What are the terms of your employment? I'm afraid I didn't ask."
"No terms," Dobby said. "Master Harry Potter provides Dobby with magic, and Dobby provides Master Harry Potter with service."
"What about wages?" Hermione asked. "What about vacation time, sick leave, things like that?"
"Oh no, Miss," Dobby said, horrified. "Dobby would never be able to face another elf if he was to be taking... payment!" He said the word as if it were dirty.
"But why not?" Hermione asked.
"It is not the house-elf way," Dobby insisted.
"You would take money, though," Harry asked, "if I required you to?"
"If Master Harry Potter insists, then Dobby will do it," the distraught house-elf said, "but Dobby will not spend it."
"I won't force you to take it if you don't want to," Harry said. "But you will tell me if you change your mind, won't you?"
"Dobby will," Dobby said, "but Dobby won't."
"Well, first things first," Harry said. "You'll need to call me something other than Master Harry Potter. How about just Harry?"
"Master Harry," Dobby countered. Harry exchanged looks with Hermione and Toma.
"Very well," Harry agreed. "Doc, can you please give him a checkup? Maybe see if you can replicate some replacement legs for him?"
"I'll see what I can do," Doc said. "Come with me, Dobby."
A/N - Well, here it is. The first chapter of Episode 3. This has been a long time in the works, and I'm really hoping it's worth the wait. It's not completed yet, but I'm hoping that posting once a week will give me the push I need to keep up with it. I have something written for every chapter but one, and the plotline is completely worked out. I hope you enjoy it.
