Hermione hated asking for money, even from her pocket convict or rich best friend. If only Draco were here, she could have asked for three thousand galleons without him batting an eyelash. She could buy a flat in Diagon for herself and Dobby to live in. Without Draco bankrolling the operation, she wouldn't be able to do things so nice and legal. That was fine, she had lived on the wrong side of the law for three years.

Plus, she knew the perfect little place in Wales that would be empty until her seventh year.

It was a little known fact that Wales' Pembrookshire National Park was home to an loosely connected magical community; she had researched this area in her first year, as it was home to the Flamels used to live in. They weren't big enough to call themselves a town, or even a village, for they were spread out along the coastline. There was something of a gathering place on the shore, and it was here that Dobby apparated her to, about a week after her

They arrived at a field, salty wind whipping the overgrown grass. The moment her feet touched the ground, she felt the magic imbued in the area, much like going to Hogsmeade or the Ministry. She couldn't see any houses, though. She blinked, confused, and walked towards the shore. She blinked again, and suddenly a house loomed over her, barely four meters away. "A proximity ward," she breathed. "What a clever piece of magic."

Dobby looked at her with his head tilted to one side, and she explained, "They used a ward that keeps people from seeing their house until they're within four meters. And you can only get four meters away, I'm sure, if you've got enough magic and innocent intentions."

She walked past the house towards the shoreline. She would be working off guesswork for the exact spot. It had been a while since she had visited Shell Cottage, after all.

She stepped over the hill with Dobby in tow, and she was hit with a weird sense of déjà vu. Or perhaps déjà vécu* would fit better, as she really had lived through this moment before. This was the same hill they climbed over to reach Shell Cottage after Dobby apparated them there, almost four years ago. She smiled sadly at the elf beside her and continued onward.

"Here it is, Dobby." She said as the cottage came into view. "Does it look quite like home?" It didn't, it was a bit worn down. But magic could fix that all up, and it would make an excellent safe house.

She cast a quick Homonium Revelio to make sure it was, in fact, uninhabited. Thankfully, the spell came up blank, assuring her that it was empty.

The hedges were overgrown, the rosebushes were wilting, and ivy almost hid the door from view. It looked as if someone hadn't taken care of it for a few years. If this really was the Flamel's house, she supposed it made sense: after the Stone was destroyed, the Flamel's only had a few months to live.

"Dobby is liking it." He said definitively, and that was all the confirmation she needed. She started circling around it, wand held aloft, casting the same spells she did around the tent their "seventh" year.

Salvio Hexia, Protego Totalum, Fianto Duri, Cave Inimicum, she thought. She would have to put something more permanent up, later, but this would have to do for now.

Her wand warmed comfortingly in her hand. She was glad to have the chance to stretch her magical muscles, and it seemed her vine wand was happy too. "Alright, Dobby, it should be safe. Why don't you go pick a room, then would you mind helping me clean up a bit?"

At this, Dobby lost it. Wailing in happiness, he managed to get out, "You is giving Dobby a room? Like, like a human?"

"Like an equal," she said. "I'm going to be doing quite a bit of time travel over the summer, and I'm afraid I have a lot of things to do that you'd be very helpful with. It's the least I can do to give you proper housing."

Dobby looked like he was about to protest. "And don't tell me you don't deserve a real room, Dobby. You're one of the bravest people I know, you're going to take a room and make yourself comfortable, however that is you like. That's an order."

Dobby gave her a bashful grin, then scampered up the stairs as if he was afraid she'd take it back. She grinned at the elf fondly. House elves were incredible beings, and she really couldn't understand why anyone would mistreat them. Then again, humans mistreated humans just as much, Hermione thought darkly.

Her thoughts wandered to Harry, who was surely unhappy at his aunt and uncle's, and to Sirius, who was hopefully settling into his new life in Berlin. She would need his help eventually, but he needed to feel safe and secure somewhere, and hopefully recover from some of the damage the dementors did to him.

Taking a second to survey her surroundings, she set herself to making the main room into something habitable. All the secreted away books that others might be suspicious of were set out on the old table (which needed a few Reparos before she deemed it sturdy) and started cleaning up.

Before she even got to the kitchen, Dobby was back, and offering to work on anything under the sun for her. He set himself to making the kitchen habitable – a good thing, too, because she was certain she heard something rattling inside the cabinets – and went back to the great room, casting a few cleaning spells here and there. She was exhausted; it had been a magically consuming day, and she was only too happy to accept Dobby's offer of dinner. In hindsight, she didn't quite know where he had gotten the food – Hogwarts, perhaps. Either way, it was nice to have someone else she could speak to, especially someone she could trust to keep her secrets.

The next few days of her second go-rounds were spent making the house habitable. Hermione "Can you read, Dobby?" Hermione asked on a whim.

"Yes, Miss Hermione, I is being able to read. I was in charge of all of the mails and owl orders for Master Malfoy."

"Just Malfoy, now," She said absently, casting a sourgify on a nasty stain in the carpet. "He's not your master." And speaking of bloody nasty masters, she remembered Pettigrew. He would be looking for Voldemort this summer, and if she was going to have any headway into the Dark Lord's movements this year, she'd need some help.

"Listen, Dobby, I need your help finding someone. He's an animagus, with the form of a fat grey rat. He goes by Wormtail and Peter Pettigrew, and he's one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers. I expect he's heading to Albania soon, to try to revive his master.

"The best way to find him is by following a woman named Bertha Jorkins, who's going on a vacation soon. If you can find him, just watch him and don't let yourself be seen. Do you think you can do that, Dobby?"

Dobby nodded. "Dobby can try, Miss Hermione." Hermione smiled.

"Thank you, Dobby. You're really helping me out." He puffed his chest out proudly. Hopefully, she could find Pettigrew in time, and keep Voldemort from making Nagini into a horcrux. So many little events needed to line up for her to find all the horcruxes, and already two weeks had passed (to her, four weeks). It was time to call Sirius again: she needed that locket.

AN: thanks for all the feedback! I've been playing the new Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery game, it's a lot of fun. I've found a few canon issues in it, but they don't detract from the game very much. Between that and all your reviews, I've been able to stay motivated to write! Even just a comment saying you liked the chapter is very uplifting. Question: Do you think Hermione can accomplish everything alone this summer?

déjà vécu is a term that means "a feeling of having lived through an experience already" according to Wikipedia. I found it while fact checking the definition of deja Vu. I think it's ironically relevant to Hermione's experience in this story, so I had to include it.