o0o Chapter Eleven o0o
Percy, for the first time in what seemed like forever to him, felt (somewhat) well rested. His night had dreamless, peaceful sleep. He missed nights when he slept like this almost every night, and envied those around him, whom he could hear snoring evenly.
However, to his right he could occasionally hear pages being turned, a sound he was much accustomed to. Annabeth would always read before she went to sleep. He loved it when he would be able to lay against her as she read. Listen to her heart beat, the pages being turned, and thinking about nothing but how glad he was to be beside her; how much he loved her.
He missed her. He missed her more than ever, he was a fool to think fate was done with him. He had actually thought—more than hoped—he truly thought he would be done. Percy thought he would get a break, settle down for a bit, go to school, spend time with those he loved. He was a fool though, and he knew it.
He heard a voice mutter something, and he was on his feet, curtains ripped back, wand in hand, frame erect and rigid as a shocked scream ripped through the room. Ron was dangling by his ankle from an invisible rope, suspended in the air, slowly spinning around. He looked as if he had just been woken up (which was highly possible), his face displayed every ounce of emotion the was passing through him.
Ron's mouth hung open still, his eyes were the size of saucers. The initial terror was fading, but hints of it still lingered, his brows had shot up into his hairline and the sleepy wizard looked more distressed and rumpled than ever. He appeared to be trying to lift his upper body towards his ankle but was failing miserably.
Behind the ginger-haired teen, Harry stood, looking–if possible–even more flustered. He was furiously flipping through pages in the thick book propped in front of him, scanning the pages for something. Which, Percy guessed would be a counter spell.
The other residents of the dorm were out of their beds, staring at the scene. Half of them were just staring at Percy. Presently, the demigod realized he still had his wand out, and pointing at the two boys in front of him, eyes slightly wild. Percy was triggered more than he would like to admit by loud sounds. Especially screams.
Percy steadily angled his wand upwards, towards Ron's ankle, and tried to remember the motions and exact pronunciation of the spell he had just been attempting to learn. He waved his wand, and cast the spell. It only took three tries, for Ron to be sent crashing onto his bed with a yelp.
"How'd you know the counter spell?" Harry questioned incredulously.
"I didn't," Percy said flatly as he turned towards his trunk to grab his things so he could get to breakfast and avoid staying in the dorm too long. "That just reversed previously casted stuff. Sure, it doesn't work with everything, but I thought it was worth a shot."
With that, Percy grabbed his things and walked towards the bathroom, hoping to get a quick shower in.
And maybe calm down. The screaming in his head was getting loud.
:-:-:-:
The son of Poseidon was almost at the landing of the stairs, as he was called to a stop.
"Oi! Mate, wait up."
The voice was vaguely familiar, one he thought he probably should have known. When he turned towards the place where the voice came from, he realized not only Ron was standing there, but Harry and Hermione too.
He leveled his voice, covering the annoyance that was sure to wedge its way into it. He just wanted some breakfast. Percy hadn't had lunch or dinner the day before and was, naturally, a bit hungry. "Yeah?"
"We were just gonna walk with you to breakfast, if you didn't mind a course. Bloody hell, how do you walk so fast?"
The three of them jogged up to meet him, and all of them looked a bit out of breath. He didn't know whether to be touched, or even more annoyed that they went through so much just to slow him down.
Once they had caught up, he set off again, slowing his walk to fit their pace.
"So, ah, Percy, could you tell me what happened this morning in your dorm, in your…" Hermione glanced (well, more like glared, if Percy has seen it right) at Ron and Harry, "unbiased opinion?"
Ah, so this is why they wanted to walk with me, he thought. "Sure, Harry cast a spell, this resulted in Ron hanging upside down by his ankle above his bed. Harry was looking for a counter spell to get him down, and I cast a spell that reversed whatever Harry cast."
"See Hermione, I wasn't lying. It's not a dangerous spell or anything, it's just a prank spell. I don't know why you're freaking out over this."
"Because! Harry, there could be some dangerous stuff in there, you didn't even know what this was before trying it…. Something, something bad could've happened." Hermione sounded desperate and stressed, and he could see why. There were a lot of other possible ways this morning could have ended.
"It's not like I was hurt, Hermione. I mean, sure , it wasn't pleasant per se, but can you imagine using it on Malfoy. His face would be priceless."
"Oh, not you too Ron. Don't you realize how dangerous this book could be? Think of all the other spells Harry could have found, and things they could have done. You aren't supposed to mess with magic, spells aren't just made up by random people for a reason!"
"I get it. I won't try anything else so recklessly, but you have to admit it could be useful–surprising an enemy is a technique that you can't use too often. This could arm me with so many unknown spells, in so many situations, all you need is a slight upper hand. This book could give me that. Boost me up, give me a better chance."
Percy wanted to stay out of the friends' fight, he really did, but he couldn't help butting in. It would be too easy for something to backfire, get knocked to the side, or whatnot. Although he saw both points clearly, (and the demigod couldn't deny he'd been reckless; at least he only hurt himself in the process) Percy couldn't let these kids go and kill themselves on accident. Even if they were about to be stuck in the midst of war.
"Couldn't you get a much safer upper hand—one that doesn't endanger you, or your friends and that's less experimental—by just reading and practicing things that they would never have the mind or time to?" Damn, now I sound like Annabeth, he thought. Take a look at that, I'm learning logic. And now he was just yearning for some good music, what he would give to hear The Incredible True Story right now….
"Thank you, that's exactly what I'm trying to say!" Hermione exclaimed bring him back to earth. "See, listen, it's not just me being smart for once, you have to turn that book in. Something really bad could happen."
"Yeah, yeah, it's dangerous but you're always complaining about our grades and such—have you seen the advice in here? Harry's getting top marks in potions! He can't just turn it in. Look, we won't try the spells anymore but, you can't expect us to just give it up!"
The group finally arrived at the Great Hall and Percy couldn't be more glad to see them just walk away arguing. He had no mind to argue with the group, even if he wished they would listen to him. The demigod hoped entrusting Hermione with the role of talking sense into the other two would suffice.
He collapsed onto the bench and let out a sigh, he wished nothing more than Annabeth to be beside him. Maybe he wasn't as laidback as he used to be, maybe he felt broken, maybe he felt the guilt pressing down on him, maybe the strain of having to save everyone was too much, maybe he wasn't fine, but she made it all better. A smile from her, just a few words, just to be able to look at her, see she was fine, and see she was doing fine—it was all he needed.
His eyes swept across the table, he caught sight of pancakes, stacked high on a large platter. He grabbed some, although it made him homesick, it was probably the best breakfast he could have had at Hogwarts.
:-:-:-:
After only twenty minutes though, he was back in the library. As he walked towards the back though, four kids walked past him, heading out. They were all grinning and sniggering, not a single one looked like they were there for a book.
Percy, instead of going to the back as he had planned, took a left, and attempted to find wherever those kids had come from. Soon enough, he heard quiet sniffles, coming from just a few rows away. Slumped against the bookshelves, was a kid with a nest of messy dark, chocolatey brown hair. Other than that, he couldn't see much else—the boy had his knees scrunched up to his chest, and his face in his hands, although judging by size, he probably wasn't any older than fourteen.
Percy wanted help, but didn't know how to approach the student, so he just sat down, back against the bookshelf, a few feet away. After a few minutes in which neither student acknowledged each other, the demigod finally broke the (semi) silence, "Are you alright?"
The person flinched so badly; Percy swore he could feel it through the shelves. "What, are—are you doing here?"
"Well, are you okay? That's really what I'm here for, the answer to that question."
"Yeah, I'm… I'm fine."
"Hmm lie detected, are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just piss off, will you?"
"So, what happened?"
"I told you to–"
"Was it your brother I saw walking away earlier? I think he looked kind of like you ya'know…."
Percy always felt a bit intrusive when he tried getting people to open up to him, but he always managed. Young demigods could be so stubborn, almost none of them would talk to him at first, but soon enough they would talk for a bit, and they would feel a bit better.
It was one of the best feelings to him, knowing he was helping—not just a tool to cause destruction, only useful in battle, for killing. He always felt elated when campers came up to him, not because he was famous, or saved Olympus. No, it was because they trusted him, and liked him for him. He felt bad for them, some were so broken, and at such a young age. But he helped them get better, he tried to keep his mind on that, and he could be happy.
He was jolted back to the present by the person beside him, "So? Maybe it was my brother, what's it to you?"
"Oh, I don't know, he seemed a bit too smug and happy, walking away from here. And you obviously aren't feeling the same. Maybe I know enough to have connected the dots. What happened?"
"We're brothers, things like this happen. He's just rougher than me."
"Ah, I see, you want me to take you to the nurse?" That right there was a power move Percy had learned, no one wants to be brought to the nurse—either they spilled or came up with a bs excuse. Something that normally he could at least go off of.
"Fine, he just, he thinks I'm weak, and we were fighting. He brought up my aunt, who died, he was never too fond of her—but I loved her more than anyone."
Percy could tell it went deeper than that, but he didn't push. "Some brother," Percy muttered, he knew more than anyone families knew how to push just the right buttons. "I'm sorry for your loss, I know how it feels. And what a punch in the gut to have her brought up like that."
The Hufflepuff managed only managed a wet 'yeah' response before he sniffled again and loose a sob-like laugh. "She, she would want to be honored though, not cried over. She was stronger than I'll ever be."
He ended, sounding shameful, and Percy couldn't handle it, the world was broken, and those in it were still expected to live on. Sometimes he found it hard, but he could help fix it, that was evidently his purpose in life, one he tried to fulfill.
It wasn't always defeating the ten-foot-tall bad guys, but sometimes it was just beating back the skeletons.
"I think you're plenty strong. Those who get pushed around may seem weak—but it's those who stand their ground despite being pushed around, they're the strong ones. Do you know how many people would join in, laugh at something that appalls them, joke about what they believe in—just so they aren't laughed at. Your aunt deserves honoring, and you did just that. Maybe you got pushed down, but if you stand back up—that's all that matters."
The demigod stood up and offered a hand to the boy, who took it, and let himself be hoisted up.
"Charlie."
"Hmm?"
"Charlie, my name is Charlie."
"Percy. Now, have you had breakfast yet today? Because there are some killer pancakes in there, and when I say killer, I mean they're good."
Charlie laughed, "That's exactly where I got dragged from. I have to agree with you there though, pancakes are the best."
"Well, if you're full do you want to come with me to the lake."
Charlie stared at the son of Poseidon oddly, "I… yeah, sure."
Percy grinned and started the walk towards the lake, "So… do you go outside much?"
"What kinda question is that? We're at a boarding school, with strict curfews. Who, in this entire castle, goes out much?"
"Fair point, but you know what I mean. Like on the weekends and stuff."
"Not too much I guess, what's there to do anyway?"
"Well, what's to do inside. It's just wasting time or doing homework either way, at least out here there's less people."
"True, but there's, y'know," here Charlie paused and motioned vaguely, "weather, and stuff out there. And the forest, and it gets cold …."
Percy let loose a laugh and pushed open the door leading to the lawn, they walked out and let the doors swing close behind them, muffling the now almost unheard chatter from inside. "Here is the outside world—do try your best to fit in. There is grass on the ground, it can be wet, don't be alarmed, it's just nature's floor. And the weird thing in the air that blows, it's called wind, yes I know it may seem cold at first, but I assure you once you get used to it-"
The demigod was cut off as a laughing Hufflepuff punched him in the arm, making him burst into his own fit of laughter.
"What do I look like I've really never been outside before?"
"You just give off that vibe, you look too clean, and you said you don't go outside often, I just thought I'd reacquaint you and Mother Nature."
Percy's face fell instantaneously, he froze in place, and his entire stature stiffened and his on his face donned a look of blank hauntedness—one his fellow schoolmate would only catch a glimpse of.
He hadn't even noticed the Gryffindor had stopped until a few seconds later when he realized the absence of his laugh. The fourth year had turned around and had only seen Percy's face for a second, briefly he shook his head and grinned, jogging to close the small distance between the two. Leaving Charlie doubting he had seen anything.
"Sorry, I thought I saw something. Now hurry up, there isn't too much time before school actually starts and I want to see if I can spot the squid."
"Wait, you're saying he's real? I thought that was a myth."
"He's definitely real, I've seen him once or twice before."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, c'mon let's see if he'll come up today."
From there they jogged to the lake and sat underneath a tree for the remaining twenty minutes that breakfast spanned on for. Making small talk, and when it was finally time to head back, the squid still hadn't shown himself so, naturally, Charlie proclaimed him fake. Percy bet he would come next time.
After that they had trudged back towards the castle and split to get their things and find their ways to class. Percy's first period was Defense, he was really beginning to harbor a hatred for the class—well mostly the teacher. The class was mostly Snape being rude, and obnoxiously biased towards his students. Percy had known plenty of teachers like this. But Snape might just be one of the worst, and that was saying something.
The class was, for the most part, incredibly boring, but the highlight was that Percy did not in fact get a detention, made the professor incredibly confused, and made a few people laugh.
There was a point in the class when Snape got mad at Neville for saying a spell out loud, and, gods forbid, doing it weakly, he yelled something about being a boy. Percy's immediate, and almost involuntary response was to sing out "be a man," making it sound remarkably similar to the voicing from that song in Mulan.
Due to the fact that he said it kind of quietly, and that it was an impression, when Snape whipped around, he couldn't tell who it was. Even better, only a small handful of people understood where it came from, so in the classroom there were about five highly amused people, and a ton of confused ones—who did not understand what was so funny about a statement that really wasn't.
After that, he headed back to the lawn, thankful to be free of the stuffy classroom. Care of Magical Creatures was fine, he and Luna talked for most of the period, as they learned about another animal. The demigod did however notice that Hagrid would sometimes be staring at him. When the professor was caught, he averted his eyes, but Percy felt the eyes on the back of his head, he knew they were trained on him, and when he checked a few more times, he was always right.
Herbology was another enjoyable period. Percy honestly wished it lasted longer. It was simple, the teacher was nice, it hard to fail at anything in there, it was warm, and there were decent people to talk to, that he could, in fact talk to. But that was over soon enough.
Since he had already had pancakes for breakfast, the demigod opted to skip lunch and head to the library to get some homework done.
Following lunch, however, was Transfiguration. A class in which he was struggling. Big time. Percy couldn't do the basics in the beginning, and that only progressed to him crashing and burning in the now more advanced class. And today, to add to the torture, it was a double period.
Each time he failed to do something, no matter what, it wasn't the teacher's look of disappointment that pained him, it was the fact that he wasn't getting any better. The fact that he wasn't improving—it hung over his head. In class, typically, he could care less how he as long as he passed. Now, it was different, how he did now, what he learned, how his magical skills developed, it all determined how much he would be able to help these people.
What lives he could save, how many people had to die for war, to a dark force. He was sent here to help, he didn't care about the wizards, he just wanted to go home.
But he did, there were kids here, kids, eleven-year-olds. Ones probably no better than him at magic, kids who wouldn't be able to defend themselves were this castle to be invaded.
He wouldn't let them fight for their life—and wouldn't let them loose it. Only, right now, there wasn't anything he could do. Charms and Transfiguration were some of his worst classes because of this. He knew it would seem dumb to many others, like an overreaction.
He would sometimes see the faces of those he failed flit across his eyelids. He knew it was his fault, and he just wanted to prevent having to deal with it this time around. He knew it was impossible, he was headed into war after all—but he wished so badly, if only he could just become strong enough… maybe he would not have the guilt, maybe he could actually save everyone.
But right now, with magic, he couldn't save a fly. That day, he couldn't get the images to leave his head.
:-:-:-:
His last class was Charms, and he wasn't looking forward to it. He hardly made it through the class, with all the faces rushing through his head. The demigod felt a flashback coming and pushed it away, but it took more effort than normal to keep at bay, and hold it back. He almost failed.
He all but legged it from the class. Percy went straight for the forest, he tried to be quiet and did his best, but he also need to go fast. The son of Poseidon needed to be alone, calm down, and he need to blow off some steam—he needed to train.
He went to a spot that quickly became his favorite; it took hardly any time to get there—the path having already been engraved into his memory. Percy slid down the tree and sat there, trying to block the thoughts. The flow of time was beyond measure to him, but eventually, he stood up.
Immediately, he twisted his wrist and shot a spell at the target that hung on the tree. After that followed another, and another, and continuous flow of words left his mouth, sometimes a light would follow indicating the spell had worked.
He didn't let anything affect him—not the fact that he was failing more often than not, not the fact that darkness was beginning to set in, not the fact that he was being louder than he probably should for the residents of the forest to not notice him.
He just couldn't bring himself to care. Instead, Percy practiced, he worked, and he tried. He refused to stop. He tried all sorts of things, the son of Poseidon had read up on so many spells, and because he couldn't always practice, he just made a point to remember them. So, he tried them now.
Maybe he didn't have anyone to practice on, but he could still try. Getting the spell to work didn't require someone to be on the receiving end of it. Sure, that was how you could tell if it was working properly, but he managed how he could.
The demigod kept going until he collapsed. All of a sudden, he felt the effects of his 'training session' set in, the exhaustion and hunger hit him like a sack of bricks. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he could tell it was late, and he knew he had been there for hours.
After lying down for a little, he sat up, grabbed his bag, and quickly cast the disillusionment charm (this is one of the only spells he wasn't half bad at, and it was only because did it so often) before making his way out of the forest.
Percy crept through the trees, silent as a mouse, then proceeded to tiptoe across the lawn, finally he made his way to the door, and eased to open just enough to slip through. The door didn't make a sound, but he still flattened himself against the wall, not daring to move a muscle as he waited for a minute or two to make sure no one noticed.
He almost started towards the common room, but he just couldn't—his stomach was empty, and right now, it demanded filling. He wracked his brain as he tried to remember back to that day in Dumbledore's office, the wizard had said something about the kitchens, something absurd, about a painting… something about tickling it.
The pear, it was tickle the pear, that's what he said, the demigod realized, and next I'll mop the moose, his brain added. He was almost tempted to laugh at his sleep deprived fueled thoughts, and would have if it didn't mean he would get caught.
AN(Sorry for those of you who don't get that, I couldn't help but add it. It comes from the Dr. Sues book I'll Teach My Dog One Hundred Words, the full quote is 'tickle the pig, kiss the goose, feed the mouse, and mop the moose' kind of dumb, but it came to my mind, and I seriously couldn't not add it.)
The demigod crept across the foyer, and through the corridor on the right of Great Hall and scanned the paintings for the one with a pear. When his eyes found the right one, he stepped forward, then he tentatively stretched his hand out and lightly scratched the painting. The pear wiggled, and out of the fruit, a small green doorknob popped into existence. Percy grasped it, and then, as if opening a door he twisted and pulled, revealing what was definitely a kitchen. Before walking in, he undid the charm.
Stoves, cabinets, drawers, pantries, ovens, microwaves, countertops—small and large—lined the walls. It was a huge room, because in the middle, long tables were sitting there—arranged exactly like the one in the Great Hall. In the back was a small fireplace, and not far from that was a huge brick oven. Only a few house elves remained at this time of night, and suddenly Percy felt a bit guilty for disturbing them.
He didn't know what he expected to find, he was just driven by hunger to find a kitchen. Maybe he thought he'd find some left overs or something lying around, but there didn't seem to be any (in plain sight at least). He had just turned around to walk out when he heard a high pitch voice call out to him.
"What is Sir here for? It is very late."
"Oh, I'm just," by now Percy's hand had found home on his neck, "checking things out, and," at that moment his stomach growled traitorously, he pretended to ignore it, "I was just heading out, good night!"
"Dobby insists you stays Sir, you is obviously hungry."
AN(I can't remember exactly how Dobby talks, is this him? Like at all? 'Cause I just feel like I'm doing Jar Jar… sorry.)
"It's fine, really." But Percy couldn't stand it, he was exhausted and needed food, he had to at least ask, "Well, ah, do you happen to have any leftovers? I could do with a snack if you just had some lying around."
"Nothing left no, it was vanished, but Dobby can make something for Sir, what would Sir like?"
"Are you sure you don't mind, if—if you were going to leave, I don't wanna keep you or anything."
"No problem, what does Sir desire?"
"I, thank you very much, and whatever is easiest for you. Thank you, Dobby."
The elf made one last comment, "Dobby will make surprise for Sir!" and then hurried off to the other side of the room.
Another elf shuffled towards Percy, and pushed a stool near him, and as soon as the demigod accepted it with a 'thank you' he scuttled off. Percy's gaze followed him sadly, that was a behavior of someone who had been abused—maybe it was an elf, but he felt terrible for him, even if he was wrong about the abuse part, that wasn't the natural behavior of any free person (or elf for that matter).
Percy gazed around the room, there were about fifteen of them, a few were talking to each other, a few finishing the clean-up, a few prepping for the morning to come, and with a pang of guilt, he saw a few start getting things out to cook again.
He got up and walked over to one of the sinks, too guilty to just watch the elves work harder than they already had, just for him. "You should go and sit down; I can do the dishes."
The elf standing there looked astounded and stared at him for a few good seconds (in which Percy got extremely uncomfortable) with his huge glassy eyes, then proceeded to vehemently shake his head in refusal. "Why… come on, washing the dishes is no fun; you've probably worked all day. Let me do it."
Not accepting the elf's denial of his offer, Percy stubbornly took a dish from his hand and walked closer to the sink and began to wash it. The elf was still standing there, staring at Percy, obviously taken aback from the turn of events.
"Sir doesn't work. No, no, I washes the dishes. The food comes soon," the elf squeaked.
Percy refused to leave, "What's your name?"
"My, my name, sir?"
"Yeah, I'm Percy."
"Holpey, sir."
"Alright then Holpey, let me do the dishes."
"No, no that is Holpey's job, I washes the dishes."
"I insist, go sit down and let me do the dishes."
"Is… is that an order, sir?" Holpey squeaked.
"…I suppose it is. I, uh, I order you to go enjoy yourself."
The elf squeaked and scuttled off, looking extremely uncomfortable. He did end up joining some of the elves who were talking though, so it was worth it. Percy turned to the dishes and began scrubbing them clean then placing them on the drying rack, only to spontaneously dry them off as soon as he set them down.
It was weird, standing there, just doing the dishes. It felt so normal, so ordinary. It sent a pang of homesickness through him. He could be standing at home right now, at the sink in his apartment. Washing the dishes, he, his mom, and Paul had dirtied after dinner.
School would have started by now. He could have been finishing his last year in high school washing the dishes at his home, talking to Annabeth and…. A lone tear slipped down his face.
He missed it all so much. So much of his life had been taken from him, he'd been robbed of a childhood early on, he'd been used as a piece in the game of war he ended up on the front lines of, twice. Eight months had been snatched by Hera, just so her plan could work how she liked. And now this. Shipped away to a school to be a piece in their games. He just wanted to sit out for a minute, but couldn't seem to catch a break.
"Dobby has made food for Sir!"
Percy shut the water off and turned around, furiously wiping his tear tracked face, towards Dobby who was holding out a tray ladened with little pastry cakes Percy had no recognition of—they looked delicious though.
He accepted the tray—though he still felt guilty—and followed where Dobby was leading him. He ended up at the back of the room near a fireplace, an elf was lying, asleep on the hearth.
Percy took a seat on one of the stools that had been placed around it. He set the tray in his lap, and though he tried his best to keep his composure and use manners—he practically wolfed down the first few.
From there he slowed down and began to talk with the house elf in front of him.
"So, ah, Dobby how is, um, Hogwarts treating you?"
"It is very good sir, I left an old job and looked for a new one for a long time. You sees, I was set free and then when I wents looking for work, it was hard to find, because I wants a paid job. And wizards… they don't like that, they says that isn'ts the point of house elves, Sir. They is not to be paid."
Dobby took a break and Percy butted in, "You are being paid now, though right?" He was genuinely surprised there were slaves here, for some reason, he thought the magical world would be above this.
"Oh, yes, Sir! I is being paid now, Dumbledore is very generous and kind. He is paying Dobby, and he lets us has nice places to stay and we doesn't has to be silent about what he says."
"That's wonderful, is everyone else here being paid as well?" The demigod glanced around, suspiciously eyeing the crowd.
Acutely, he realized Dobby had the weirdest assortment of clothes he'd ever seen. A crude looking, slightly oversized, and slightly misshapen sweater hung over his upper half, almost like a dress. The house elf had mitch-matched socks on, one black, reaching past his knee, and absolutely disgusting looking. The other was knit messily, just like the sweater, although this article of clothing seemed to fit better. Atop his head sat a small tea cozy, as if it were a hat.
As odd as Percy found it, the others weren't even that well-dressed. Most of them seemed to have what looked like yellowed pillows hanging around their bodies loosely—and that was it. Just a grimy pillowcase dress.
As he looked though, he found the elves were shying back from the pair. The house elves looked like they couldn't decide whether to keep being respectful, disgusted, or horrified as his eyes swept the remaining workers.
"Oh no, Sir. You sees, it's a disgrace to be free, to be paid. But I am a free elf, and when I am paid next I will buy myself a new shirt, or maybe a new hat... Or some socks. Socks are my favorite!"
"You like socks?"
"I loves them, Sir." Dobby had said it so earnestly, Percy had to wonder why, but he figured he shouldn't bother.
"So, you're the only one being paid here... because it's a disgrace to be free?" Percy asked in disbelief.
"Yes Sir," he began whispering and Percy had to rely on his demigod hearing to pick it up, "You sees, this is Winkey." He gestured to the elf that had seemingly passed out on the hearth. "She was set free by her master two years ago; she still hasn't given it up. She still won't say anything about her old master, and she thinks she's a disgrace, you sees. She still cries over it."
"She's free though, like you now. Why wouldn't she be happy?"
"Oh, she loved her old master, and he let her go free; he was mad. Winkey doesn't listen to me, still thinks she's a bad elf; bad servant."
"But, but why would it ever be a disgrace? Why in the world would you not want to be free?"
"I loves being a free elf. It just isn't the way of elves though, we lives to serve our masters. To be set free is to be shamed."
"But you're the only one who doesn't think like that, no one else here gets paid or... or gets off days—wait do you have off days?"
"Oh yes, I gets a whole day off, every month!"
"Every month!" Percy repeated incredulously, astounded they were living like this.
"Yes, Sir, Dumbledore offered more off days; more money. But Dobby refuses, anything else would be too much."
"That's, I guess that's all right." Percy paused for a second, "What do you do on off days, Dobby?"
"I goes to shops sometimes, I stays here normally though, Sir."
"When's your next off day?"
"It is at the end of every month, Dumbledore was very generous."
"Can I come with you next time?"
"Sir wants to, to come withs Dobby?"
"Yeah, yeah I do. So, can I come?"
"Of course, only if Sir wants to though."
"Thanks, Dobby I can't wait to tag along," Percy said with smile, "You mind if I pop in here every now and then?"
"Of course nots, Sir. You can comes any time you likes to!"
"Thanks Dobby, make sure to save some leftovers though. I don't want to over work you again."
"Leftovers?" Dobby repeated in confusion.
"Um, if there's any extra food, just put it aside so you don't have to make extra, ya know?"
"I can puts aside food for Sir."
"Thank you so much, for the food and the conversation. You have no idea how much I needed it. I'll come back, and I can bring some socks if you want them."
"You don'ts have to, and thank yous, Sir for coming."
"My name's Percy, and thank you again, but I do have to get going. It's already four and I should probably try and grab some sleep."
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Man, guys and that's my mental right now isn't it—that last sentence. I blame school for getting me back into my habits, It's been no sleep for homework lately, but now I'm losing it over writing again, and I couldn't be happier. This is how I do things.
Anyway, sorry for the long wait, I will say the updates will still take a while, but hopefully not quite so long. I refuse to stop entirely though. Also, I just put out a one-shot and there's another coming out if you're interested in that.
:) Thanks for reading, BBB (4/3/21)
Guest(1): Thanks dude. :)
Guest(2): Man, whatever ideas you have I'd love to hear. I have a loose plan, but really I can add tons of stuff to it. I love new ideas for things to write.
