I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS. ALL BELONG TO J.K. ROWLING
Harry clasped his hands together and wrung them nervously. Every so often he would chance a glance at the elegant pendulum clock resting atop the fireplace mantel to gauge the time that had passed. The young wizard felt out of place, surrounded by the Victorian-style furniture that reminded him of the Dursleys pretentiously decorated sitting room. Harry was not welcome in that room, except to clean.
Harry had brought nothing with him, save for the clothes he had worn for the day and his wand, the handle of which could be seen peeking out from the front pocket of his faded denim jeans. He had expected dungeons with dragon skeletons and chains; somehow the normalcy of Snape's abode did not sit well with him.
Harry glanced at the ticking clock again. Only eight minutes had passed since his Potions Professor had departed. Despite the Dursleys typical animosity, Harry hoped his relatives would not give Snape a hard time when he arrived on their doorstep. Though, knowing the Dursleys, they would probably rejoice at the idea of getting rid of their freak nephew for the whole summer. With Snape's patronising sneer and vampiric attire, Harry hoped the menacing man would scare the living daylights out of them. Harry snickered, suddenly picturing it and wishing that he could have accompanied his professor just to witness their reactions. Great and amusing things always happened whenever the magical world collided with his strict and normal family.
In particular, he remembered his eleventh birthday and how his cousin had cowered behind his mother like a spooked cat the first time someone had come to fetch Harry. Of course, the fetcher had been Hagrid in all his half-giant glory, and even Harry had been somewhat frightened by the man's sheer stature and girth. However, by the time Hagrid had turned Dudley into a pig-boy, Harry had gotten over his fear enough to laugh with him.
A sudden loud popping noise broke the teen out of his musings. Looking in the direction the sound had originated from, Harry found himself staring into the tennis-ball shaped eyes of a very familiar creature.
"D-D-Dobb-by…" stammered a bewildered Harry Potter, surprised by his old friend's sudden appearance. "W-what are you doing here?" he continued.
"Dobby has been sent by Master Dumblydore, sir, to look after Master Potter and his Potions Professor during the summer holidays and to keep him safe, and-and Dobby answered yes straight away," Dobby said, his eyes lighting up with unbridled excitement.
Harry did not think that anything like the Chamber of Secrets was going to happen here again, especially since Headmaster Dumbledore had sent Dobby here for his own protection. But – though he doubted the necessity of the security measure – he did not doubt the Headmaster. As much as he would hate to admit, strange things often occurred when Harry was involved; strangers showed up unexpectedly and apparated right in front of him. None of this meant he would let his guard down.
Much to Harry's dismay, the excited house-elf started bouncing up and down energetically like an excited child on a sugar rush, whilst rambling on about how excited he was to spend time with Harry. Harry became extremely nervous when several items floated around the room. Bad things had happened the last time elf magic was involved, even though it was Dobby's own way of protecting Harry from the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.
Snape would be less than pleased if anything in his house were to be even slightly damaged upon his return. Not that he was scared of Snape or anything, but Harry did not see the point in making him angry. Snape would probably blame him anyway.
"Ssssh! Dobby, I know you're excited, but please calm down," Harry whispered hastily to the elf. "Snape will be very mad."
The teen took notice of how the house-elf's lower lip began to quiver. "Master Snape will be angry… a-a-a-at D-D-Dobby?" the poor house-elf's eyes grew to the size of saucers and he looked like his heart was about to break.
"Y-Yes, Professor Snape will be very, very angry, but not with Dobby," Harry explained tentatively. Scrambling for an excuse, he said; "He will be very, very angry with me, and –– "
Apparently Harry had said the wrong thing. If anything, Dobby looked even more upset at this explanation.
"B-But, Dobby does not want Master Potter to get into trouble," the creature wailed. With a mad scramble for the nearest blunt object, Dobby grabbed the nearby lamp and prepared to hit himself. "Bad, Dobby, bad Do ––"
Harry was not in the mood to deal with this moment of déjà vu. He struggled with Dobby to get the lamp and looking him straight in the eye, he asked; "Did Snape know that Professor Dumbledore sent you?"
Dobby managed to stop whimpering long enough to shake his head.
Harry felt extremely uncomfortable being called Master, mostly fuelled by past experiences, and how Quirrel and the Basilisk had referred to someone as their Master.
"And-and please, don't call me Master. You're my friend, Dobby…Just call me Harry."
Dobby's eyes grew enormously large and started to water. This soon turned to uncontrollable sobbing, and Harry awkwardly placed his hand on the elf's shoulder, aiming to comfort the poor creature. Unfortunately, Dobby's wailing only became louder as round fat tears rolled down his cheeks while he uttered a mostly incomprehensible string of words about the Great Harry Potter being so, so kind to a creature such as himself.
This was the sight that greeted Professor Snape when he entered the room, robes trailing behind him in a mock spectre of shadows. He grimaced as – having just returned from his visit to the Dursley household – he was to be welcomed home to not only the company of Potter's spawn, but to this wailing creature as well.
"Potter," the man hissed in a deceptively calm tone, before scowling at the accused. Harry pictured little black snakes hissing as the man rasped, "Who gave you permission to summon this house-elf to my manor? I gave you explicit instructions not to touch anything or contact anyone. Perhaps I needed to spell it out for you Potter." Snape spat the last phrase like a curse.
Harry rolled his eyes; he had not been in Snape's house for even an hour, and already he was being scolded for something he had not done. Unfortunately, Snape noticed his expression. Before Snape could berate his student further, however, the house-elf began yapping once again.
"Master Snape, sir," the house-elf stumbled over his words, fearful as he was at the sight of the Head of Slytherin House, "I-I is Dobby, sir. He-Headmaster Dumblydore s-sent me to a-assist you and M-Master Potter, sir." Dobby, however terrified of Snape, instinctively moved to shield Harry from the imposing man.
Snape narrowed his eyes. "I know who you are," he snapped. "Tell Headmaster Dumbledore that your assistance is not required."
Snape sneered down at the elf, before a flicker of uncertainty passed across his glare. He appeared to reconsider his proclamation. "On second thought, let him know that we will call for you when you are needed."
The house-elf looked relieved and smiled. Big eyes shining, the house elf humbly responded, "Thank you, Master Snape and Master Potter. I wills be waiting to hear when Master Potter needs him." Dobby gave one final bow, so low that his nose almost touched the floor, before the house-elf finally disapparated from sight.
Harry sighed in relief as Snape sent Dobby away. Although Dobby was a good and loyal friend, having the house-elf around all the time could end up being more of a nuisance.
"Potter," Snape said, "We need to talk".
The teen wanted to raise the issue about honouring the agreement they had earlier that day regarding Snape addressing Harry by his first name. Harry thought it would be rather funny to ask Snape, but changed his mind the second he saw the look on his professor's face.