Chapter 6!
Dobby couldn't be happier. His hats, piled atop his head fell as he dusted a top shelf where the golden plates were kept.
"Hey Dobby!" a voice he knew! It was his Master Harry Potter! Oh what could he be needing at this hour? Jumping down from his high place, he landed in front of Harry with a wide grin on his face.
"Master Harry Potter has come to visit Dobby! What be you wanting Master Harry Potter?"
"Um…ah…Hi Dobby. I have another pair of socks you might add to your collection!" the pulled out of his pants pocket a mismatched pair of socks. Having gotten holes in one of each pair, it made them really useless to Harry, unless of course he wanted one red sock and one black sock. The look of joy on Dobby's face was almost worth the trip to the kitchens.
"Master Harry Potter is too kind of lavish such gifts on Dobby!" and he immediately began to cry.
"Oh no Dobby! Look if it makes you feel any better I do need a favor!" what made dobby so un-comfortable to be around was how he went of adoration to tears in a breath. Dobby dried his tears on his soccer shorts he took a deep breath before saying.
"Yes! Dobby can do your favor! What do you need?" said a calmer house elf. Harry took out Professor Snape's outer robe. Up until he grabbed it in his dorm did he realize it wasn't a cloak….he really had taken the clothes off his back!
"Umm… I need this fixed. I kinda took it from Professor Snape today and I…ripped it." The slight blush on his face was because he had been naked in it. And he never noticed that Professor Snape wore cologne before. Yet another shard of the monster that was his teacher was falling away to show the human beneath. He broke out of his revere when Dobby snapped his fingers and made the Robe float in the air. Looking at it from all angles he saw that the sleeves were missing. Hmmm… that made it difficult.
"If Dobby could ask a favor Master Harry Potter? Asked a muffled house elf. He had jumped inside of the robe to see how the seems had been ripped.
"Uh…sure Dobby. What do you need?" asked a bemused Harry, what else could Dobby need?
"Dobby needs the sleeves Master Harry Potter! This Robe is charmed! It does not stain, catches fire or trip the wearer!" said Dobby from where the sleeve should be.
'So that's how he does it! It's charmed to flare away from him!' Harry thought with a grin! 'Damn it! I need the sleeves!'
In his private rooms, Severus fumed! Even at the late hour he couldn't sleep because of that damned POTTER! He felt stupid! He had done what he had told Albus that he refused to do! He exposed himself for another attack. A picture came to his mind of a wild dog baring its throat to his enemy, vanquished. "Damn it!" his brandy glass shattered against his "sitting Room" wall.
He looked down at the sleeves he had left of his favorite robe. He had paid a good deal to madam Malkin to make that robe! It was charmed and sewn to exactly what he needed! The pockets were deep and functional and he had to admit he felt impressive in it. He wasn't a bulking figure, he was slight, always had been. Now he would have to dip into his savings to buy a replacement. Despite his "Good name" his family wasn't one of wealth. His Father had made plenty sure that there wasn't going to be much of an inheritance when he died. He gambled worse than Bagman and seemed to drink worse than Hagrid. Severus shook himself from thoughts of is father. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the small clock on his mantel…nearly midnight. The emotions of the day were catching up to him, he felt exhausted now. Taking one last look at the sleeves he had left and thought about throwing them away, but a yawn made him lose track of what he wanted to do. He trudged to his cold bedroom, with its large empty four-poster and his old gray nightshirts that were probably eight years old now. A chill settled into his bones and he fell into yet another night of fitful at best, sleep.
Now he had to get sleeves! It really was more than fair, all he had to do is go into Professor Snape's rooms, find the sleeves and get the hell out of there, meanwhile Dobby would be fixing the seems and cleaning the robes. He knew Professor Snape had to of gone back to his rooms to change, no way he'd walk around with ripped sleeves. Ok flaw in plan! There he was standing in front of his door with absolutely no idea as to how to get in.
POP!
It was that elf Dumbledore was talking to! But why was she out side inside of popping inside? She happened to be holding a glass of (gag!) warm milk. Yuck, the stuff even smelled off. He backed away only enough so she didn't accidentally step on the cloak.
She couldn't believe she was taking the glass of milk Dumbledore had sent. But in the end she really couldn't refuse to take it. The worse Master Snape would do is send it back, but then that would mean she hadn't done a good job! Oh what to do! Tentatively she knocked on his door. Master Snape being as he was, didn't like house elves to pop into his rooms with out knocking.
Sleep! That's all he wanted! He pushed himself from his bed and tried to adjust his pillows, again. It was too cold, yes, that was the problem it was far too cold. Waving his wand a fire flashed into the grate. Sighing he fell on his side trying to sleep. Then a faint knock from the sitting room … it must be a house elf. Well maybe he could use something from the kitchens. Dinner had been like eating wood, and anymore scotch wasn't wise, the last thing he wanted was to wake up and teach with a hang over. Let this be the last time he ran out of hangover cures! Pulling himself up from his bed, he walked over to his chair near the fireplace and put on his night robe. The lights in the sitting room were set dim, as Diana didn't seem to like the dark very much. He walked towards the door and let the elf in, he didn't bother to shut the door, because who'd be daft enough to barge into his rooms, and at this time of night?
"Meepity has bringed you a glass of warm milk Master Snape!" said an overly bright Meepity.
Why is it always milk? "Thank you Meepity, but could you get me some tea instead? Oh and tell Albus thank you anyway." He hated it when house elves burst into tears…it was always so… heart wrenching.
"Yes, Master Snape! Rights away!" with that the elf scurried to the door throwing it wide and out of the room and popped back into the kitchens. This is when Harry made his move. He moved into the room and swept past Snape who some how looked shocked that the elf burned heel to get out of the room. Harry had stopped in front of Diana's tank and slowly began to slink near the couch. He spotted the sleeves on the coffee table! Yes! Score one! But then Snape had to plop down on said couch. Harry took a good long look at the man he had been hating for the past 6 years. He was tall, thin, but not really bony in the nasty way, skin that seems would be a darker shade if he wasn't always indoors or covered neck to toes in clothes, and a face that right now looked tired, a tad upset, and maybe just a little bit cold. Not really the fearsome, loathsome, sardonic, bane of Griffindors everywhere that he and Ron always seemed too able to pin blame on. Shaking himself to attention he stopped paying so much attention to his professor and on the task at hand.
The sleeves were tossed carelessly on the table; he noticed that some of the buttons were missing too. Would he even need the buttons? Damn another thing he should of asked. His professor just seemed to be lounging picking at non-existent lint. Then instead of continuing to sit on the couch picking at lint he ungracefully flopped on his back on his couch sighing, throwing an arm over his eyes. Taking that moment Harry quickly took up the sleeves.
"Why can't I ever have any luck?" said a dreary sounding Snape. The door bursting open again wit htea tray and elf, Harry thought ' I was thinking the same thing.'
