The next morning, just after dawn, Harry stirred awake at the soft flutter of Hedwig's return. It had been his third consecutive night of uninterrupted sleep, and Harry felt amazing. He yawned, stretched, pivoted to the edge of the bed, and considered his surroundings.

It was almost too much. His four-poster was covered in down pillows, soft sheets and warm blankets. His wardrobe was full of new clothing that fit perfectly. He discovered yesterday evening that the Hogwarts house elves had made his bed, laundered every item he'd worn the day before. He reflected on the broad writing desk beside his bed, the reading nook at the center of the room. A small pile of books from the Potter library that had captured his interest. He considered gratefully the stunning shift in his fortune.

Harry stood, stretched, and cleared the distance to Hedwig's perch. "Hello, Hedwig. Successful hunt?" He nuzzled her affectionately, shifted his gaze to the sun slowly rising over Little Whinging. He took a long, deep breath, and headed to the shower.

After a quick wash, Harry dressed, brushed his teeth, and headed down the stairs. As he turned to check on the brewing Intelligentia Concentrata, he noticed that the house elves had returned the lab to pristine condition — every ingredient nicely sorted, and every surface spotless. Just then he recalled a series of decisions he'd made the night before. He smiled.

"Dobby?"

The room echoed with the sound of a loud whip-crack, followed immediately by a shrill squeal of unadulterated glee. "Harry Potter! Oh, such an honor it is! Dobby is your humble servant."

He was wearing two mismatched woolen socks, bundled loosely around his legs, a pair of plaid shorts, a charcoal grey child's tuxedo vest, and a burnt orange scarf. He lowered himself in a deeply reverential bow.

Harry smiled with affectionate eyes. "Good morning, Dobby. How are you?"

He erupted in beaming joy. "Oh, how kind you are, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is very well, especially since Headmaster Dumbledore informed Dobby of such a tremendous opportunity to serve the house of Harry Potter. Dobby will always be a free elf, Harry Potter, but now Dobby is your free elf." He raised his chin proudly.

"That's actually why I wanted to speak with you." Harry led Dobby to the living room, sat in one of the wingbacks, leaning forward. Dobby's eyes set unwaveringly on Harry's.

"I'd like to ask something of you." He paused, hesitated, and then continued with purpose. "You aren't going to like it, but I'll need you to agree beforehand and I promise it won't hurt or shame you in any way."

Dobby faltered, thought for a moment, turned his eyes determinedly back to Harry's. "Dobby…" his chest puffed, "Dobby trusts Harry Potter, and he'll do anything he asks."

Harry smiled with kind eyes. "Good! I have two tasks for you to accomplish, as soon as you possibly can. First, I want you to set an appointment at Madam Malkin's."

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Is this appointment for you, Harry Potter?"

Harry shook his head playfully. "No, Dobby. It's for you. I'd like you to ask Madam Malkin to tailor seven three-piece suits that fit you perfectly, in any color you prefer, or any variety of colors you prefer. Tell her to charge these to the Potter account at Gringotts."

Dobby's lip trembled. "Harry Potter, sir! Dear Harry Potter is to give Dobby clothes — clothes that fit Dobby nicely! Oh, it is too much! I cannot —"

Harry furrowed his brow in a playfully stern disposition. "Now Dobby, you promised me you'd do what I asked."

Dobby bowed his head in tearful submission. "Dobby shall never forget the generosity of Harry Potter."

Harry smiled broadly. "Now for the second task. Professor Dumbledore tells me that I've inherited a sizable fortune, managed directly by a goblin steward in my name. I'd like you to go to Gringotts and speak directly with my steward. Ask him to reference house records for the salary of my grandfather's chief of staff. Then, by my authority, ask him to issue funds equal to that salary in monthly installments to a new account in your name. That shall be your salary, Dobby, for the assistance you've offered, as long as you're willing to serve my house."

Dobby was struck silent for nearly twenty seconds, his broad eyes welling with tears. He hiccuped the words,"No, Harry Potter, sir. It isn't necessary. Dobby has enough — Dobby couldn't for a moment rob the vaults of Harry —"

Again, Harry interrupted him, feigning a stern, furrowed brow. "You are, Dobby, my friend. You've set aside everything to serve me, to protect and preserve my house, to come at my beckon call at any hour. And you are a free elf. I will not allow you to serve my the House of Potter without compensation equal to your worth." He paused, smiled affectionately. "And, remember Dobby, you promised."

At this, Dobby bowed lower than Harry had yet seen. "Great, he is…" he said, almost in a whisper, "...and good." And at that, a loud crack echoed through the house.

Harry, on his way out the door, paused for a moment. He thought twice, turned, returned to the stairs, and ascended the steps to the writing desk beside his four-poster.

With his quill he scratched a quick note, folded and sealed it, and tied it just above Hedwig's right talon. As soon as she set off, he pocketed his wand, ran down the stairs, opened the door, and made his way quickly to the far hedge of a primary school.

Professor Dumbledore,

You mentioned two days ago that you'd asked my friends, and my godfather, to keep their distance. I asked you to maintain that request for another day or two. I'm ready, sir, to hear from them again.

Harry P.

Harry arrived beside the ancient ash, holding a rusty tin can with a string of loose thread hanging from one end.

"Good morning, Harry Potter." Her voice came from above him, and he looked up to see Luna Lovegood nimbly descending from limb to limb until she landed softly before him.

She was wearing a dark pair of blue jeans and a crimson red tee. Her hair was up loosely in a twist, and she was barefoot. For a moment she just stood there, her shoulders shrugged cutely with her fingers loosely tucked in her back pockets, surveying him with flirtatious eyes. She bit her lip, expression shifting to a joyful smile. She cleared the distance between them and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Have you had breakfast?"

As they prepared porridge with fresh berries, Harry reflected on his conversation with Dobby.

"He can be a bit much sometimes, but he seems genuinely excited to be a part of my home. I've actually been thinking how he might genuinely help in our efforts." Harry said, speculative.

Luna smiled broadly. "He seems lovely. And I'm so grateful that you're taking care of him. The Lovegood House has never had a house elf. We've fundamentally fought the notion of slavery almost since the beginning. But freeing a house elf without affording them an opportunity to earn a living seems like damning them to a different sort of slavery."

She paused for a moment, and just then her eyes went wide. "It just occurred to me, Harry Potter, that scholars within ancient houses sometimes leverage their staff of house elves for research purposes. I wonder whether Dobby might help us find answers to questions when they arise? Perhaps search for potions ingredients or lost texts that we've found reference to?"

Harry considered. "You know, that isn't a bad idea. I'll ask him about it this afternoon. I'll need to check on the potion around three. Would you like to come with me?"

Luna playfully feigned a furrowed brow. "You mean our potion? Yes, I'd like to oversee the next phase of our potion."

Harry laughed, held up his hands in mock surrender. "Forgive me."

As they sat at the table, his expression sobered. "I also sent a letter to Dumbledore this morning. I don't know if I mentioned it to you, but when Dumbledore admitted that he'd forced distance between my friends and I, I asked him not to immediately correct his mistake."

Luna's eyes met his, curious.

"I just wasn't ready." His expression adopted gravity, distant pain.

"I needed them. Do you know what I mean? I needed them because I was grieving and I was afraid, but they weren't there. And I know that Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, and that we all respect him, but I'm not sure that was a good enough reason to leave me in that darkness."

His downcast eyes lifted, met hers.

"But you were there, as soon as I reached out to you. And you've been — Luna, you're perfect, and you were so kind, and you listened and understood. Every moment we've had together has felt like rest."

He laced his fingers between hers, shifting his gaze distantly.

"I wasn't ready for that to end." He paused. "I wasn't ready for my world to extend beyond just you and me, and I wasn't ready to grapple with the frustration I felt toward my friends, toward my godfather."

His distant gaze steadied, returned. "I told Dumbledore that I'm ready to hear from them. At least I think I am. I don't know what to expect or how I'll respond."

Luna nodded, considered for a moment. "You are my first friend, Harry Potter. I can't for a moment imagine life without you, though our friendship has just begun." She raised his hand to her lips, kissed his fingers softly. "They've known you for years, and your friendship has withstood dark and difficult days. When you're given a gift like that, I think you must do everything you can to keep it."

He nodded soberly. "You're right. I know you're right."

Her piercing eyes looked directly into his. "I know they've hurt you. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry blinked a few times, inhaled deeply. After a moment, he turned to her. "Do you know what's made it all easier? Knowing that without that distance I may have never reached out to you."

He pulled her closer, leaned his forehead into hers, eyes inches apart. "Where would I be without you, Luna Lovegood?"

She closed her eyes, exhaled softly. And for a moment they just sat there, leaning in, breathing together.