Chapter Twelve-Break
November turned into December, first term exams passed and the Christmas Holidays began, two weeks without classes, head duties, quidditich practices, or daily homework assignments. Yay! A break, you may say, fat chance, a break for a seventh year, a break for Harry Potter, NEVER, always something important to consume his attentions, here we are the week after Christmas, and Harry is in the Library with his fellow Head Student, Hermione Granger.
Today, they are not studying for there Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, but rather looking again for whatever spell Professor Dumbledore cast on them, Draco Malfoy, Padma Patil, Ronald Weasley, Ginerva Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas.
Just before thinking it was time to call it a day, Harry found something, "Her... Granger, this could be it, Listen, 'The Wallace Spell, gives the caster the ability to link the minds of the castees, then the caster is able to make the castees live in a fictional world, interacting through the spell. This spell was created in 1204 by two gentleman whom shared the same surname and wanted to show there fueding friends...'" and the book went on. "Does that sound like it could be it?" Harry asked Hermione.
"Definitely, seems to be the most likely of anything we've found, should we go to Dumbledore with this, now?"
"No, let's wait till everyone involved is here, then we'll confront him."
"Right," her stomach growled.
Harry looked towards the windows, then at his watch, "Wow, eight already, we've missed dinner."
"Damn, thats two meals we've missed today, lunch and dinner."
"Let's go to the kitchens, the elves will get us something."
"Kitchen? Elves? What are you on about?"
"You mean, you've never been to the kitchens?"
"I've never been to the kitchens, or seen elves at Hogwarts excepct during Care of Magical Creatures."
"Well, I say it's about time you make a trip there." The Head Boy and Girl gathered there things and exited the library, going down to the entrance hall, then the hall which leads to the Hufflepuff Common Room, and stopped in front of a large portrait of fruit, in which Harry tickled the pear, which laughed and the painting opened.
"Oy Dobby!"
"Mister Harry Potter sir, thank you for the sweater, sir."
"Your welcome Dobby, thank you for the socks," and Harry lifted his robes displaying, some of the craziest, most ridiculus socks Hermione had ever seen.
"Could we get some food, Dobby, we lost track of time and missed lunch and dinner."
"Who is Mister Harry Potter, sirs, friend?"
"Oh, this is Hermione Granger and Dobby, please, call me Harry."
"Yous brought Head Girl Hermione Granger here sir Mister Harry sir?"
"Dobby, just Harry please just Harry, and yes I brought along my friend Hermione, she's never been to the kitchen, before," Harry explained to Dobby, as Hermione was scoping out the kitchen.
"Dobby will bring your food up to your common room Harry sir."
"Thanks Dobby, how's Winky?"
"She's much the same Harry, sir, we's had to lock up the butterbeer!" Dobby whispered to Harry.
"Have you talked to Dumbledore about her, Dobby?"
"Oh no's! I's haven't."
"Try, maybe he can help, or do something at least."
"I's will Mister Harry, I's bring up your food too, go back to your common room."
"Thanks Dobby, come on Hermione, Dobby's going to bring food up."
When they got to the common room, there dinner was already waiting for them, it was a feast!
"Typical Dobby! Actually, any house elf."
"Why?" asked Hermione.
"House elves like to go out of there way for whomever they serve, for example, you go down for a cup of tea and a muffin, you come out with an armful of pastries."
"I can't believe I've missed this, how many house elves are here?"
"I don't know, a hundred or so, I only personally know two."
"Really, and they do everything, the cleaning, cooking, keeping the fires going?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Do they get paid, or anything?"
"Not usually, though there are the exceptions though, Dobby for example gets a galloen and a day off per week."
"How do you know?"
"He told me, he used to be one of the Malfoy's House Elves, I inadvertently freed him," Harry smiled, "And he started working here fourth year."
"So there are hundreds of slaves working at Hogwarts?"
"Basically. It seems that they've been like this, suppressed for so long that they actually like it, like my example from earlier."
"Yes, but I can't believe there's slaves here!"
"Yeah, but I'm sure if they wanted pay and asked Dumbledore, he'd give it to them without a thought."
"Then why doesn't he?"
"They don't want it, he's paying Winky and she hates it..." he trailed off.
"Why what's wrong with this... Winky?" Hermione asked as she took a bite of her sandwich.
"She's obsessed with her former master and addicted to Butterbeer."
"Addicted to Butterbeer! Is that possible?"
"For House Elves, Butterbeer is powerful stuff."
"I can't believe there are slaves here though!"
"I know, it seems unreal, but there happy, sadly there happy."
And that ended the House Elf discussion as both dug into there sandwiches."
"So, Harry, what are you going to do, after Hogwarts?" Hermione asked before taking a swig of Butterbeer.
"You mean, if I survive?" He asked back.
"What do you mean, if you survive?"
"If I survive the hopefully final confrontation with Voldemort."
"He better be defeated, or I'll be dead, along with all the other muggle- borns, muggles and half-bloods."
"I don't think he'd go so far as to kill half-bloods," Harry said before taking a bite of pumpkin pie.
"Why?" Hermione asked, surprised.
Harry indicated he was still chewing, then once he was finished savoring that bite of pie he answered, "Because he is a half-blood."
"Voldemort is a half-blood!" she exclaimed in shock.
"Yeah, went here, was a Slytherin, opened the Chamber of Secrets, or rather Slytherins chamber, when he was a student, then again through his diary and Ginny Weasley, our second year, he is the heir of Slytherin. Hagrid was expelled because of him."
"Hagrid when to school with Lord Voldemort?"
"No, Tom Marvolo Riddle, which if switched around spells out, I am Lord Voldemort, or well that's what his sixteen year old self pointed out to me in Slytherins Chamber."
"You saved Ginny Weasley there, didn't you?"
"I did."
"And they still hate you, her and her family?"
"Yep."
"Shall we go back to my original question?"
"Please."
"What are you going to do after Hogwarts, if you defeat Voldemort?"
"Become an Auror, I guess."
"You guess?"
"Yeah, it seems to be the only thing I'm good at, taking down the bad guys."
"I don't believe that, your good at... Quidditich, Potions, Transfiguration.... Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"See and we come back to that, anyway, what do you want to do, post Hogwarts?"
"If I'm not killed?"
"If your not killed."
"I don't know, become a researcher, I guess."
"You guess?" He repeated her earlier question to him.
"Well, I am a muggle-born and this world is very prejudiced, which I doubt will change anytime soon with or without Voldemort."
"True, so what do you expect you'll end up doing?"
"Some low end ministry job or end up working in one of the shops in Diagon Alley, till I get a good offer."
"Your Head Girl, and number one in out year, I doubt you'll have a problem getting a job. If you do, I can write you up a letter of recomendation, along with I would bet, everyone of your professors, that's a luxury I certainly do not have, the only professors who'd give me a recomendation is Hagrid and possibly Snape."
"What about Dumbledore?"
"I guess, but I may have peeved him off one too many times."
"Jeez Harry, he's been letting you off the hook since first year."
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it."
"Yeah, your right, but I don't really care, I lost a lot of respect for him fifth year..."
"What do you mean?"
"Can't say. I can't tell you, or anybody."
"Does Neville know?"
"No, but he should."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you, I can't tell, then you could be a target, actually, since every child of a Deatheater probably knows your my friend, now, you are a target for being Harry Potter's friend and for being a muggle-born."
"Bring it on."
"Your kidding!?" He asked in disbelief.
"Nope, I happen to be one of the best duelers in our class, the only people I haven't beaten are you and Professor Kozlov."
"Have you dueled him yet, I don't remember you dueling him."
"I haven't, yet."
"So, you belived you can defend yourself against a Deatheater, who will use any means nescessary?"
"I do."
"Cocky little Gryfindor you are, aren't ya?"
"Isn't it better to be confident in your abilities then to think you are going to die?"
"Ow, that hurt, yeah, maybe you should do some reverse psychology on me, making me believe I can kill Voldemort."
"You can do it Harry, we all believe in you, even if we hate you. We all belive in you, even if we hate you."
"So, you hate me now, damn, and I thought I'd finally got your friendship."
"Dunce, I don't mean me, I mean people like Ron Weasley, who grew up hearing the story of 'The Boy Who Lived,' people like him, they believe that The Harry Potter can always prevail, as you have seven times already, all you have to do now is make it an even eight."
"What about you? Do you think I can do it?"
"The difference between me and the people who grew up hearing about you is, I had no previous images, expectations of what you'd be like, I got to form my own opinion."
"And that is?"
"Now or then?"
"Then, and then now."
"I first met you on the train, while I was looking for Neville's Toad, remember?"
"I do."
"You were sitting with Ron Weasley."
"Yes."
"And I fixed your glasses."
"Yes."
"You seemed very shy, mild-mannered, quiet and nervous."
"I was definitely nervous."
"So was I."
"And now?"
"Volitile temper, still shy and very well mannered, when your not biting off someone's head, usually a very nice guy."
"Thank you."
"Your welcome and, your not the typical Slytherin."
"I guess your right, but why?"
"You don't seem all too ambitious and your very noble, something usually associated only with," he cut her off.
"Gryfindors."
"Right."
"My parents were Gryfindors and my godfather. He was not at all pleased at my house when he found out, third year."
"I can imagine, my parents weren't too pleased I was a witch and barely consented to letting me come, but did conceed."
"I'm glad they did."
"Me too," she said as they both unconciously got closer and closer, heads moving towards eachothers when... pounce Crookshanks between them, jumping onto there laps before settling between them.
They came back to there sences and Hermione asked, "What did you think of me?"
"Then and now?" She nodded. "A bossy little know-it-all and now, you still know everything, but can definitely take charge in a critical situation and get people through it, you're a great friend, I'm very glad we got to become friends."
"Me too," she glanced up at the fireplace, where the clock upon the mantle said, 'You should be asleep by now!'
"Whoa, look at the clock, I'm going to turn in, good night, Harry."
"Good night, Hermione, sweet dreams."
"You too."
"Thanks," Harry replied, as he still sat on the couch stroking Crookshanks, whom was purring.
As soon as he heard her door click shut, he said to the cat, "Thank you, you've saved her from almost certain heartbreak and death, if anything happened between us, your a great cat, Crookshanks," Harry said to the cat, before he carried him up the stairs and into his room, before letting him through the bathroom, when he went to brush his teeth, before turning in for the night.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, the last scene, just came out, hit me in the face and flowed onto the page, out of no where, lol, thankfully Crookshanks stopped anything, eh? Keep reading and review, please. Next Chapter, Confronting Dumbledore.
November turned into December, first term exams passed and the Christmas Holidays began, two weeks without classes, head duties, quidditich practices, or daily homework assignments. Yay! A break, you may say, fat chance, a break for a seventh year, a break for Harry Potter, NEVER, always something important to consume his attentions, here we are the week after Christmas, and Harry is in the Library with his fellow Head Student, Hermione Granger.
Today, they are not studying for there Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, but rather looking again for whatever spell Professor Dumbledore cast on them, Draco Malfoy, Padma Patil, Ronald Weasley, Ginerva Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas.
Just before thinking it was time to call it a day, Harry found something, "Her... Granger, this could be it, Listen, 'The Wallace Spell, gives the caster the ability to link the minds of the castees, then the caster is able to make the castees live in a fictional world, interacting through the spell. This spell was created in 1204 by two gentleman whom shared the same surname and wanted to show there fueding friends...'" and the book went on. "Does that sound like it could be it?" Harry asked Hermione.
"Definitely, seems to be the most likely of anything we've found, should we go to Dumbledore with this, now?"
"No, let's wait till everyone involved is here, then we'll confront him."
"Right," her stomach growled.
Harry looked towards the windows, then at his watch, "Wow, eight already, we've missed dinner."
"Damn, thats two meals we've missed today, lunch and dinner."
"Let's go to the kitchens, the elves will get us something."
"Kitchen? Elves? What are you on about?"
"You mean, you've never been to the kitchens?"
"I've never been to the kitchens, or seen elves at Hogwarts excepct during Care of Magical Creatures."
"Well, I say it's about time you make a trip there." The Head Boy and Girl gathered there things and exited the library, going down to the entrance hall, then the hall which leads to the Hufflepuff Common Room, and stopped in front of a large portrait of fruit, in which Harry tickled the pear, which laughed and the painting opened.
"Oy Dobby!"
"Mister Harry Potter sir, thank you for the sweater, sir."
"Your welcome Dobby, thank you for the socks," and Harry lifted his robes displaying, some of the craziest, most ridiculus socks Hermione had ever seen.
"Could we get some food, Dobby, we lost track of time and missed lunch and dinner."
"Who is Mister Harry Potter, sirs, friend?"
"Oh, this is Hermione Granger and Dobby, please, call me Harry."
"Yous brought Head Girl Hermione Granger here sir Mister Harry sir?"
"Dobby, just Harry please just Harry, and yes I brought along my friend Hermione, she's never been to the kitchen, before," Harry explained to Dobby, as Hermione was scoping out the kitchen.
"Dobby will bring your food up to your common room Harry sir."
"Thanks Dobby, how's Winky?"
"She's much the same Harry, sir, we's had to lock up the butterbeer!" Dobby whispered to Harry.
"Have you talked to Dumbledore about her, Dobby?"
"Oh no's! I's haven't."
"Try, maybe he can help, or do something at least."
"I's will Mister Harry, I's bring up your food too, go back to your common room."
"Thanks Dobby, come on Hermione, Dobby's going to bring food up."
When they got to the common room, there dinner was already waiting for them, it was a feast!
"Typical Dobby! Actually, any house elf."
"Why?" asked Hermione.
"House elves like to go out of there way for whomever they serve, for example, you go down for a cup of tea and a muffin, you come out with an armful of pastries."
"I can't believe I've missed this, how many house elves are here?"
"I don't know, a hundred or so, I only personally know two."
"Really, and they do everything, the cleaning, cooking, keeping the fires going?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Do they get paid, or anything?"
"Not usually, though there are the exceptions though, Dobby for example gets a galloen and a day off per week."
"How do you know?"
"He told me, he used to be one of the Malfoy's House Elves, I inadvertently freed him," Harry smiled, "And he started working here fourth year."
"So there are hundreds of slaves working at Hogwarts?"
"Basically. It seems that they've been like this, suppressed for so long that they actually like it, like my example from earlier."
"Yes, but I can't believe there's slaves here!"
"Yeah, but I'm sure if they wanted pay and asked Dumbledore, he'd give it to them without a thought."
"Then why doesn't he?"
"They don't want it, he's paying Winky and she hates it..." he trailed off.
"Why what's wrong with this... Winky?" Hermione asked as she took a bite of her sandwich.
"She's obsessed with her former master and addicted to Butterbeer."
"Addicted to Butterbeer! Is that possible?"
"For House Elves, Butterbeer is powerful stuff."
"I can't believe there are slaves here though!"
"I know, it seems unreal, but there happy, sadly there happy."
And that ended the House Elf discussion as both dug into there sandwiches."
"So, Harry, what are you going to do, after Hogwarts?" Hermione asked before taking a swig of Butterbeer.
"You mean, if I survive?" He asked back.
"What do you mean, if you survive?"
"If I survive the hopefully final confrontation with Voldemort."
"He better be defeated, or I'll be dead, along with all the other muggle- borns, muggles and half-bloods."
"I don't think he'd go so far as to kill half-bloods," Harry said before taking a bite of pumpkin pie.
"Why?" Hermione asked, surprised.
Harry indicated he was still chewing, then once he was finished savoring that bite of pie he answered, "Because he is a half-blood."
"Voldemort is a half-blood!" she exclaimed in shock.
"Yeah, went here, was a Slytherin, opened the Chamber of Secrets, or rather Slytherins chamber, when he was a student, then again through his diary and Ginny Weasley, our second year, he is the heir of Slytherin. Hagrid was expelled because of him."
"Hagrid when to school with Lord Voldemort?"
"No, Tom Marvolo Riddle, which if switched around spells out, I am Lord Voldemort, or well that's what his sixteen year old self pointed out to me in Slytherins Chamber."
"You saved Ginny Weasley there, didn't you?"
"I did."
"And they still hate you, her and her family?"
"Yep."
"Shall we go back to my original question?"
"Please."
"What are you going to do after Hogwarts, if you defeat Voldemort?"
"Become an Auror, I guess."
"You guess?"
"Yeah, it seems to be the only thing I'm good at, taking down the bad guys."
"I don't believe that, your good at... Quidditich, Potions, Transfiguration.... Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"See and we come back to that, anyway, what do you want to do, post Hogwarts?"
"If I'm not killed?"
"If your not killed."
"I don't know, become a researcher, I guess."
"You guess?" He repeated her earlier question to him.
"Well, I am a muggle-born and this world is very prejudiced, which I doubt will change anytime soon with or without Voldemort."
"True, so what do you expect you'll end up doing?"
"Some low end ministry job or end up working in one of the shops in Diagon Alley, till I get a good offer."
"Your Head Girl, and number one in out year, I doubt you'll have a problem getting a job. If you do, I can write you up a letter of recomendation, along with I would bet, everyone of your professors, that's a luxury I certainly do not have, the only professors who'd give me a recomendation is Hagrid and possibly Snape."
"What about Dumbledore?"
"I guess, but I may have peeved him off one too many times."
"Jeez Harry, he's been letting you off the hook since first year."
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it."
"Yeah, your right, but I don't really care, I lost a lot of respect for him fifth year..."
"What do you mean?"
"Can't say. I can't tell you, or anybody."
"Does Neville know?"
"No, but he should."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you, I can't tell, then you could be a target, actually, since every child of a Deatheater probably knows your my friend, now, you are a target for being Harry Potter's friend and for being a muggle-born."
"Bring it on."
"Your kidding!?" He asked in disbelief.
"Nope, I happen to be one of the best duelers in our class, the only people I haven't beaten are you and Professor Kozlov."
"Have you dueled him yet, I don't remember you dueling him."
"I haven't, yet."
"So, you belived you can defend yourself against a Deatheater, who will use any means nescessary?"
"I do."
"Cocky little Gryfindor you are, aren't ya?"
"Isn't it better to be confident in your abilities then to think you are going to die?"
"Ow, that hurt, yeah, maybe you should do some reverse psychology on me, making me believe I can kill Voldemort."
"You can do it Harry, we all believe in you, even if we hate you. We all belive in you, even if we hate you."
"So, you hate me now, damn, and I thought I'd finally got your friendship."
"Dunce, I don't mean me, I mean people like Ron Weasley, who grew up hearing the story of 'The Boy Who Lived,' people like him, they believe that The Harry Potter can always prevail, as you have seven times already, all you have to do now is make it an even eight."
"What about you? Do you think I can do it?"
"The difference between me and the people who grew up hearing about you is, I had no previous images, expectations of what you'd be like, I got to form my own opinion."
"And that is?"
"Now or then?"
"Then, and then now."
"I first met you on the train, while I was looking for Neville's Toad, remember?"
"I do."
"You were sitting with Ron Weasley."
"Yes."
"And I fixed your glasses."
"Yes."
"You seemed very shy, mild-mannered, quiet and nervous."
"I was definitely nervous."
"So was I."
"And now?"
"Volitile temper, still shy and very well mannered, when your not biting off someone's head, usually a very nice guy."
"Thank you."
"Your welcome and, your not the typical Slytherin."
"I guess your right, but why?"
"You don't seem all too ambitious and your very noble, something usually associated only with," he cut her off.
"Gryfindors."
"Right."
"My parents were Gryfindors and my godfather. He was not at all pleased at my house when he found out, third year."
"I can imagine, my parents weren't too pleased I was a witch and barely consented to letting me come, but did conceed."
"I'm glad they did."
"Me too," she said as they both unconciously got closer and closer, heads moving towards eachothers when... pounce Crookshanks between them, jumping onto there laps before settling between them.
They came back to there sences and Hermione asked, "What did you think of me?"
"Then and now?" She nodded. "A bossy little know-it-all and now, you still know everything, but can definitely take charge in a critical situation and get people through it, you're a great friend, I'm very glad we got to become friends."
"Me too," she glanced up at the fireplace, where the clock upon the mantle said, 'You should be asleep by now!'
"Whoa, look at the clock, I'm going to turn in, good night, Harry."
"Good night, Hermione, sweet dreams."
"You too."
"Thanks," Harry replied, as he still sat on the couch stroking Crookshanks, whom was purring.
As soon as he heard her door click shut, he said to the cat, "Thank you, you've saved her from almost certain heartbreak and death, if anything happened between us, your a great cat, Crookshanks," Harry said to the cat, before he carried him up the stairs and into his room, before letting him through the bathroom, when he went to brush his teeth, before turning in for the night.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, the last scene, just came out, hit me in the face and flowed onto the page, out of no where, lol, thankfully Crookshanks stopped anything, eh? Keep reading and review, please. Next Chapter, Confronting Dumbledore.