Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this, but somehow, I don't think a Society for the Promotion of Fanfic Authors' Welfare would go over too well.

Chapter 39

Daniel Granger took a deep breath and said, "I need another drink."

The Granger Family was feeling a definite sense of deja-vu, as Professor Vector had again bought them dinner at the Leaky Cauldron to explain what horrific events had nearly killed Hermione this year. It wasn't pretty.

"So, just to review," Dan said to Professor Vector, "a cursed book containing the memories of the same evil wizard as last year possessed Hermione's friend, Ginny Weasley, and forced her to unleash a giant snake on the school that can kill with its eyes, and Hermione was the only one to figure out what it was and how to protect herself from it, and you took her, Harry Potter, and a another professor who wound up trying to erase all of your memories down to a hidden chamber under the school, with Ron Weasley sneaking down with you, and you killed the monster, destroyed the book, and saved Ginny together…Did I miss anything?"

"No, I think you got it," Hermione said as she leaned into her mother's side. Her mum's arm had wrapped tight around her from "kills with its eyes".

"Do we really need to say it, Professor?" he asked.

Vector sighed and said, "I have no defence, Mr. Granger, except to say that your daughter saved her own life and a number of others by her actions, and saved the school from being closed, and, may I add, helped to prevent You-Know-Who from returning to power again. I allowed Hermione to come because time was of the essence, and I didn't believe I could understand her protective spell quickly enough. I had no choice but to bring Mr. Potter, as he was the only person in the castle who could open the Chamber. As for Mr. Weasley, once he was down there, there was no time to find a way to get him back out. I also believed that between myself and the Defence Professor, we could keep them safe. That obviously didn't go as intended, but we did succeed in the end."

"You said Hermione still got hurt—" Emma said shakily.

"Mum, it was two cracked ribs that Madam Pomfrey healed right away and a case of magical exhaustion," Hermione defended herself. "That's not much by wizarding standards."

"Don't give me that, Hermione," Emma snapped. "It was sheer dumb luck that it wasn't a lot worse. And don't think we've forgotten your part in all this, missy."

Hermione hung her head: "I'm sorry, Mum. I know I was being reckless. I should have gone straight to a teacher instead of the library. Everything else, though…I had to do it. I mean, I wouldn't have gone down there if I didn't have to, but there was no time. We barely got to Ginny in time, and as it was, I had to invent a new protective spell on the spot. And Harry really was the only one who could open the Chamber. Plus, Lockhart was supposed to have the skills and responsibility to protect us. It's not my fault he turned out to be a dirty, filthy, memory-charming fraud."

Emma was surprised at the disgust in her daughter's voice, even if she wholeheartedly agreed. Someone trying to wipe her daughter's memories was a really nasty thought, although she was a little concerned that Hermione sounded more shaken up about that than the whole giant snake thing. "Well…be that as it may…that's still…" Her voice cracked, and she held her daughter tighter. "…how many times have you nearly been killed at that school now?"

"Three, by my count," Hermione muttered, though it was something of a matter of opinion how to count them. She patted her mother on the back and said, "But Mum, those things can't happen again." Well, another troll could possibly get in, but it would be very unlikely. "The monster's dead, and You-Know-Who can't get back in the school. Dumbledore made sure of that."

"Just like he was supposed to last year?" Dan said skeptically.

"Dad, there was nothing he could do about the Chamber. Only a Parselmouth could open it. It's just bad luck something like this happened two years in a row."

"I would have to agree with her on that—" Vector started.

"I think you've said enough, Professor," Dan snapped.

"Daddy! She's just trying to help," Hermione insisted.

"Well, I'm sorry, Professor, but your help hasn't been very helpful lately."

Hermione wasn't about to take that. "Professor Vector took Professor McGonagall's place going down into the Chamber because she promised to protect me," she said.

That was enough to make her parents stop and take another look at her favourite teacher. Truthfully, she had half a mind to add that Professor Vector had been firing off spells like she had never seen before during that fight. Vector definitely had solid fighting skills, and Hermione was starting to realise just how far she had to go in the area of duelling.

"We're very grateful to you for protecting Hermione," Emma told Vector. "And we can recognise that it was a difficult situation, but obviously, we would much rather she was never in danger in the first place. And with three incidents like this in two years, it's getting really hard to keep making the case for Hogwarts."

"But Mum—"

"We'll discuss this when you get home, Hermione," Emma said sternly.

"Wait, Mum, Dad, look," she cut in, "before you start talking about transferring me to Beauxbatons again, there's something I need to talk to you about first."

"And what's that?" her father said with a sigh.

"Just a moment." She extricated herself from her mother's grasp and got up to open the door. "Dobby," she called, "could you come in here, please?"

"Dobby is here, Miss Hermione Granger." Dan and Emma watched with wide-eyes as Hermione ushered the timid-looking creature into the room. They had heard Hermione's descriptions of house elves, but they had never actually seen one before. He was as she described him, though: three feet tall, bat-eared with huge green eyes, still wearing a dirty pillowcase and one human-sized sock, and covered with old scars.

"Mum, Dad, this is Dobby, the elf who…tried to warn Harry about the monster."

"Goodness, what happened to him?" Emma said when she saw the scars.

"His old masters happened to him," Hermione said angrily. "Some wizards are really abusive to their elves. Harry and I…convinced Mr. Malfoy to free Dobby after the whole basilisk incident."

"And by 'convinced', you mean…?" Dan said shrewdly.

"It was all perfectly legal," Hermione said quickly. "But Mr. Malfoy was pretty angry."

Dobby trembled and whispered, "He was…He was trying to curse Miss Hermione Granger, but Dobby stopped him, sir."

"Thank you, Dobby," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She could have done without him mentioning that part.

"Er…thank you for that," Emma said uneasily.

"You is most welcome, ma'am. Dobby is very happy to be a free elf, and he is honoured to be meeting Mister and Missus Granger." He shook both of their hands.

"So…Dobby…" Dan asked, "you knew about the Chamber the whole time?"

Dobby's ears drooped, and he lowered his head: "Yes, Mister Granger, sir, but Dobby could not tell. Dobby could not be revealing his masters' secrets while he was bound, sir. Dobby is very glad to get away from his bad…his bad…" He started shaking in his one sock.

"Oh no," Hermione said. She lunged forward and grabbed the elf's arms, pulling him away from the table just before he could smack his head into it. "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" he yelled. Both of her parents and even Professor Vector flinched away from the display. "Dobby, stop!" she shouted.

The elf shuddered and went limp at once. "Dobby is sorry, miss. It is hard to be learning to be a free elf."

"You see, it's just awful," Hermione said, tearing up at little. "He's been trained to punish himself. We had to do something for him."

"Well, of course you did," Emma said gently, pulling Hermione back into her seat. "But what does all this have to do with us besides making Mr. Malfoy mad?"

"Well…the thing is, Mum…" she said hesitantly, "Dobby wants to work for wages now, but all the other elves say no magical family would ever want to pay an elf. I mean, Professor Dumbledore would, but still…I thought it would be nice…if we could hire him."

"As a live-in domestic servant," her mother finished. "So that's what this is about. Oh, Hermione, I know you want to help, and I know we do pretty well for ourselves, but you must know we couldn't possibly afford that."

"You gave me a number, though."

"Only because you insisted, dear. I thought it was one of your little maths projects. We could never actually pay him that."

Hermione snorted with laughter in spite of herself. It really shouldn't be that funny, she thought. It was another sign of how badly messed up Dobby was (or elves in general, maybe), but it was hard not to laugh when she said, "Mum, Dobby refuses to work for more than a third of that."

"What?" Dan and Emma both said in disbelief.

"I couldn't get him to accept more than one galleon a week and one day off a month," Hermione said flatly. "You can try to convince him otherwise if you want, but you wouldn't believe how stubborn elves can be."

"But…Dobby…" Emma addressed him, "we know how much a galleon is. That's not very much at all for your work."

"Oh, but Dobby is not a greedy elf, Missus Granger, ma'am. Miss Hermione Granger offered Dobby three galleons a week and weekends off, too, but Dobby beat her down. Dobby is liking being free, ma'am, but he is still being an elf at heart. He is liking to work better, ma'am, if it is for good masters."

Emma's mouth hung open for a minute. Hermione had told her parents how strange elf psychology was, but they hadn't believed her until now. "Professor?" she looked to Vector for insight.

"Don't look at me, Mrs. Granger," Vector replied. "This is all Hermione's idea. I don't really understand it myself, I'm afraid. An elf who actually wants wages is like an evil Gryffindor or a cuddly werewolf. They're so rare they might as well not exist."

"And you…you're okay with this, Hermione?"

"Well, I do think it's a slave wage myself, but it's better than outright slavery," Hermione replied. "And technically, it's a galleon a week plus room and board—although the room doesn't cost us anything, and the board—well, look at him: he's not even two stone. But anyway, it's all technically legal. It's not like the elves have a trade board." She sighed wearily. She didn't like the house elves' situation any more than the next muggle-born, but this had been a bit of a sore spot with her parents with her befriending them. "The fact is, elves are wired differently than were are. They're not even modified humans. They're uplifted animals. It's not an ideal situation, but I thought maybe Dobby could set an example for the other elves by working for a family that cares about him—you know, show them there's an alternative."

Hermione pulled some official look parchments out of her bag and laid them on the table. At the top, they said, Ministry of Magic, Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Office for House Elf Relocation. "Listen, I talked it all over with Professor Dumbledore before I came home, and he really liked the idea. He even helped me with the paperwork at the Ministry. The joke's really on them: you see there's a heavy tariff on bonding an elf to your family—to keep less well-off families from snatching up dismissed elves—but there's no fee for hiring one for pay because no one ever bothered to create one." She laughed a little. "Anyway, Professor Dumbledore said we could hire Dobby, and he could work for us during breaks as our family elf, but then during the school year, we could subcontract his services to Hogwarts at parity. Then, he'll be right there in the castle, and under the contract, Professor Dumbledore says I could still call him on an as-needed basis or buy back his contract at three sickles a day."

Dan's and Emma's heads were spinning as they looked over the paperwork. Everything was there in the contract. It looked much simpler and more straightforward than any muggle contract. Clearly, wizards preferred not to complicate matters—or didn't have as much experience with such things.

"Well, this is…" Dan searched for the words he wanted to say. "This is all very thorough, and I…guess it looks like a very generous offer, but honestly, Hermione, we've always got on just fine without domestic help. I don't see why we need any now—um, no offence, Dobby."

"Maybe not at home, but what about at Hogwarts?" Hermione said, going in for the proverbial kill. "That's why I wanted to arrange for him to work there. I know that you think Hogwarts is dangerous, now. I still believe Professor Vector that all of this was just bad luck, but I figured that if I have Dobby with me, I can call him if I get into trouble without having to worry about when Sonya's shift is or anything like that." Except just then, Hermione remembered something Sonya had said that might derail the entire plan. "Oh, but Dobby," she said nervously, "can you use that tracking spell that lets you come when we call without being formally bonded to us?"

"Yes, miss," Dobby smiled. "With the bond of contract, Dobby can puts an Elf-Trace on all of you, miss, even if he is working for wages. But that is being Old Elf Lore, so not all the elves knows it."

"Good. Thank you." It was very lucky Dobby was from such an ancient and traditional elf family. "So there'll be no problem. Under this contract, I can call him for help anytime."

Dan let out a heavy sigh. Hermione really was bound and determined to go back to that place, it seemed. True, he and his wife could both see how much good it did her and how dedicated her friends were there, but at this point, they really felt it would be better to cut their losses. Even if they could see how the horrors she had witnessed in the past two years might be a terrible coincidence, they just weren't prepared to trust that anymore…But then again, everything Hermione had ever told them about house elves said they were dead useful and loyal to a fault if they were treated well. Maybe…

"Professor, could you and Hermione—and Dobby—step out for a little while? I think Emma and I need to discuss this in private."

"Of course, Mr. Granger. Come on, let's go."

Vector led Hermione and Dobby out to the main part of the pub, where they took a table and waited nervously. Hermione was fidgeting badly in her seat.

"Hermione," Vector whispered, "I want you to know that whatever happens, I'm proud of you, and I want to keep up that independent study I mentioned."

"You do?" Hermione said hopefully.

"Yes—whatever we can manage by owl correspondence, certainly. I wouldn't worry about your studies at Beauxbatons, either. I'm sure you would shine just as brightly there."

"Thank you, ma'am."

They made uneasy small talk after that for a while, until Dan came out and beckoned them to come back into the private room.

"Okay, first things first," he said. "Dobby, we've have decided that we would like to offer you employment on this contract at least through the end of August. We'll consider continuing after that once we've solidified our other plans."

At that, Dobby leapt up with glee and shook Dan's hand again. "Master Daniel Granger, sir!" he squealed. "You is being most generous to Dobby. Dobby is so happy to be working for wages, sir. Dobby will be the best elf for Miss Hermione Granger and her family."

"Um, thank you, Dobby. Hermione, your mother and I have agreed that we won't decide about Hogwarts just yet," he said reluctantly. "We'll try this deal with Dobby for the summer to see how he works out and decide closer to September."

Hermione sighed with relief. At least she had some time to convince them. "Thank you, Daddy," she said. "I really appreciate that."

"And Professor Vector, thank you for being so open with us again. We have a lot to think about, but we'll keep you informed of our decisions."

"Thank you, Mr. Granger. I'm glad Hermione has such a supportive family. I can see that she draws a lot of her strength from having people around her who care about her." Hermione blushed deeply. "I just want you to know…your daughter is not defenceless. I know she's only completed two years of schooling, but she can protect herself better than you might think…Good evening…and thank you for hearing me out."

Dan and Emma watched her go, and they couldn't help turning and giving their daughter a curious look. At distressing as the whole thing was, it did sound like she had pulled off an impressive feat of magic, not to mention hexing that evil wizard in the face again, as insane as that sounded. It made them wonder just how far she would go by the time she was done.

The drive home was a strange one. Dobby had never ridden in a car before, and the Grangers all hoped no one noticed as he gazed in awe out the window at the sights of muggle London. "The muggle world is being very huge and shiny, Mistress," the elf squeaked. "There must be…over a hundred thousand muggles in London, Mistress."

The Grangers all suppressed a laugh. Dobby had obviously just picked a number that was much bigger than the population of magical Britain without knowing anything else. With his disconcerting use of the word "Mistress", Hermione needed a moment to realise that he was addressing her. She'd have to do something about that. "Dobby, there are about seven million muggles in Greater London," she said gently.

Dobby's large green eyes looked like they might pop out of his head: "Millions of muggles! Dobby never knew. Dobby's M—" He shivered, and his voice dropped to a whisper: "Dobby's old Master says…he says the muggles is animals scratching the dirt…Pardon Dobby, Mistress. Dobby never knew there could be so many muggles to build such a great city."

Hermione decided not to overload his brain with the knowledge of just how many other great muggle cities there were. Instead, she just said, "Well, your old master's so insulated he probably never set foot outside the magical quarter of London."

Dobby nodded his head, and then Hermione had to grab his hands before he smacked himself. They would have to work on that, too.

Dobby had never travelled any significant distance by a mundane method before, either, so driving through the countryside in the fading light was also a new experience for him, but finally, they made it back to their home in Crawley. "Well, this is our home, Dobby," Hermione said as they stepped inside. The eager elf was already getting to work, helping to levitate Hermione's trunk in from the car. "I'm sure it's not as big and fancy as the Malfoy's place, but I think it's pretty nice."

"Dobby is thinking it is a fine home for a small family, Mistress. The Masters Malfoys was having a much bigger family when Dobby was young."

"We're happy to have you, Dobby," Hermione said, crouching down to get close to him and hoping she was speaking for her parents too. "However, if you're going to work for us, there are some rules."

Dobby looked up to face her: "Yes, Mistress?"

"Rule One: you are not to punish yourself. If you think punishment is needed, ask one of us, and we'll decide."

Dobby nodded happily: "Yes, Mistress."

"Rule Two: you don't have to call any of us Master or Mistress. You can just use our names, okay?"

"Yes, Mist…Miss Hermione," the elf forced himself to say. Hermione didn't bother trying to disabuse him of the verbal tick all elves seemed to have to say "sir" or "ma'am" every other sentence. To be honest, it was actually kind of cute.

"And Rule Three: if you feel the need to protect somebody by doing something really odd, like…smashing a pudding on the floor…or sealing the barrier into Platform Nine and Three Quarters…or jinxing a Bludger to attack someone—unless it's an emergency, ask one of us first."

Dobby gave her a sheepish, toothy grin and nodded.

"Good. I think this'll work out just fine," Hermione said as she stood up. That was wildly optimistic, she had to admit. Dobby had been pretty messed up probably for decades and had no options to see a proper counsellor. She also knew how good elves were at exploiting loopholes in rules—an awful lot of Sonya's antics involved loopholes—but she hoped that working for a family that actually treated him well would help Dobby and make him less likely to do things like that.

As they finished their conversation, Hermione's mother regarded her with a curious look. "You wouldn't really punish him, would you?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, I'd never hit him like the Malfoys did—but I did make Rule Three for a reason. I just figure if he acts up, we'll do like with a little kid and take away something he likes…like making him watch while we cook dinner."

At that, Dobby let out a small squeak of horror. "Miss Hermione is very crafty," he said nervously. "Dobby will be a good elf."

Hermione giggled, while her parents looked bemused. Yes, he's still a house elf at heart, she thought.

"He should really get some proper clothes," Dan observed. "Um…no offence, Dobby, but it's really bad form to have a domestic worker wearing something out of a Dickens novel."

"That is alright, Mr. Granger, sir. Dobby can be getting clothes now that he is working for wages." The Grangers noticed that he smiled broadly every time he mentioned that.

"We can always go shopping tomorrow," Hermione suggested. Then, she broke off as a loud yawn captured her. "Oh Merlin, it's been a long day," she said, maybe a little over the top. "I'd probably better get some sleep…" She started up the stairs.

"Hold on, there, young lady," her mother interrupted. "There's still the matter of your punishment."

Hermione gulped and turned around. "Punishment?" she said nervously.

"Yes, we're proud of you for saving your friend and stopping that evil wizard, but we still don't like how it happened. Personally, I'm still not convinced that your only choice was to go down into that Chamber place, but even if we allow that, you admitted yourself that you should have gone straight to a teacher instead of the library. Now, we overlooked your unsafe behaviour last year, given the circumstances, but we're not going to do that again."

Hermione Granger could face a basilisk, sure, but her parents? That was another matter entirely.

"Grounded," Hermione griped as Dobby helped her unpack her clothes. "I can't believe I got grounded for saving the world. I feel like I'm in one of those silly cartoon programs."

"If Dobby may be saying so, Miss Hermione, Dobby is thinking you is being grounded for disobeying your parents. Master Draco…" The elf shuddered as he forced himself to reveal private family information. She made ready to grab him again, but he handled the impulse with just a twitch. "Master Draco was being punished much worse if he disobeyed when he was young, miss, and so was Master Lucius and Master Abraxas," he whispered.

Hermione blinked in surprise. Dobby knew three generations of Malfoys as children? "Dobby…" she said, "if you don't mind saying, how old are you?"

"Dobby is being sixty-five, miss."

That was a surprise, although maybe it shouldn't have been. Maybe it was the childish way they spoke, but Hermione found it hard to picture most elves as old. Flory the Head Elf at school was an exception, but even Tilly, who was Sonya's grandmother and probably older than Dobby, was hard to picture as such. Also Dobby only looked middle-aged under the scars, but she remembered that elves lived longer than wizards.

In any case, she actually wasn't surprised that the Malfoy family sounded so strict. Indeed, she wouldn't have expected much less, given what Lucius Malfoy had tried to pull at school. It almost made her feel sorry for Draco—almost.