Kindred Spirits

by Tailkinker

This is a work of fan fiction based on the Harry Potter series and the Sailor Moon franchise created respectively by J.K. Rowling and Naoko Takeuchi. The characters and settings belong to their respective owners and no copyright infringement is intended. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and should not be considered as part of the official canon of either series.

Echoes of the Egg

Harry paced restlessly from one end of the classroom to the other, his steps echoing softly as he went. After each lap, he came to a halt, fixing a glare upon the golden egg resting upon the desk. He glanced to the side as the door opened.

"Hey, Scarhead." Draco grinned as he leaned against the door jamb. "Figured it out yet?"

"Not yet," admitted Harry. "Opening it is easy enough, but the noise it makes...I can't place it at all. It repeats after about a minute."

"You managed to listen to that screeching for a full minute?" Draco snorted. "Better you than me."

"I've lived with my Aunt Petunia for a dozen years now," said Harry. "I'm used to it." This managed to produce a chuckle from the blonde boy.

"You asked the girls about it already, yeah?"

"Hermione's off at the library, researching it," said Harry. "No idea if she has a lead, or if she's just looking for any references to loud screeching. Hotaru just looked baffled. She's got Transfiguration right now, and said she'd ask some of her House mates about it."

"That blonde girl she's friendly with might know." Draco rubbed his chin. "Anything weird and esoteric tends to appear in her father's magazine, and some of it's even accurate."

"Luna Lovegood?" Harry grinned. "That's actually a good idea. I'll ask Hotaru about it when I see her next."

"Well, she'll be done in Transfiguration in just a few minutes, and then it's lunch." Draco frowned. "Thought you had Defence now. Why are you here?"

"Lavender Brown got tagged with a Tooth-Growing Jinx," said Harry. "He dismissed the class halfway through to take her to the Hospital Wing." He grimaced. "He's got us dodging curses, and he's throwing them out at random. Says it's to teach vigilance."

"She's not here yet," mused Harry, his eyes searching the Great Hall.

"Calm down," said Draco. "You know McGonagall likes keeping them right to the bell." He rolled his eyes. "Uh-oh. Here comes trouble."

Harry followed his gaze, to see Hermione hurrying towards them. Her eyes were set in that manner he'd come to associate with an unresolved puzzle.

"Hey," he said, waving a hand.

"Harry! You won't believe this—" She caught her breath. "I just spoke to Dobby."

"Dobby?" Harry frowned. "What did he want?"

"He just said he needed our help," said Hermione. "He's down in the kitchens."

"I need to talk to Hotaru—"

"I'll find her," said Draco quickly. "I doubt that Dobby would want to see me anyway." He looked down at his feet. "I...wasn't very nice to him."

"Thanks, Draco," said Harry quietly. To Hermione, he said, "Lead on. I don't know where the kitchens are."

"Honestly, Harry," she said with a huff. "You have a Map!"

The kitchens were filled with House Elves, all busily preparing lunch items and placing them on large stone tables. Harry realized that the positions of the tables corresponded with the tables in the Great Hall. Every time an Elf placed an item on the table, it vanished. Periodically, empty dishes would appear on the tables, to be whisked away by Elves for cleaning.

"So many," he breathed.

"Sir Nicholas tells me that Hogwarts has the largest single population of House Elves in Great Britain."

"I know," said Harry. "I was there, remember?"

"At first, I was rather appalled," admitted Hermione. "But..." She hesitated. "But then I talked to some of them. And they genuinely love the work."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Their culture just isn't the same as ours, and we can't judge them by our standards."

"The ones I talked to were proud that they worked for Hogwarts," added Hermione. "One of them said that taking pay would...cheapen their pride."

"Harry Potter, Sir!" Dobby emerged through the seeming chaos of the kitchen staff. Where the other House Elves wore simple robes—fashioned from pillowcases, if Harry was correct—Dobby was dressed more eccentrically. Aside from two mismatched gloves, Dobby wore a Muggle child's jumper and a pair of shorts. "Can Dobby get you some tea?"

"That'd be great, Dobby." Harry grinned at the Elf. "But I came down here because you told Hermione you needed my help."

"Harry Potter is a good man, always remembering his friends." Dobby hesitated. "But Dobby wonders if Harry Potter can help Winky."

"Winky?" Harry had to think for a second before he remembered where he'd heard that name. "That's Mr Crouch's Elf, isn't it?"

"Not any more," said Dobby sadly. "After Winky was being caught with Harry Potter's wand, Mr Crouch was giving her...clothes." He whispered the last, then glanced around the kitchen guiltily.

"How is she taking it?" asked Harry. He spoke quietly, but got his question in before Hermione could say something gauche.

"Not well, Harry Potter," admitted Dobby. "She is getting drunk on butterbeer every day."

"There's alcohol in butterbeer?" Hermione sounded scandalized.

"Not much," said Harry. "Something like one percent or so. Far as I understand, it's a by-product of the carbonation."

"But it is enough for a House Elf to get drunk," said Dobby.

"Why is she getting drunk?" asked Hermione.

"Winky misses having a family," said Dobby miserably. "Winky does not want to work for Hogwarts; Winky wants to work for a family. But nobody wants to take a disgraced Elf."

"That's horrible!" exclaimed Hermione. "I can't believe anybody would be so awful to her! And if she's so sad that she's drowning herself in butterbeer—" She looked at Harry. "There must be something we can do. Why else would Dobby come to us, if he didn't already have a plan?"

"Harry Potter is having many wizarding friends," said Dobby. "Certainly one of them is willing to take on Winky? If Winky had a family again, she would be much happier."

Harry remembered the brief conversation that he'd had with Winky, during the Quidditch World Cup. "I assume that she would refuse any pay? It would be a traditional agreement?"

Dobby nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. Winky is thinking that Dobby is quite wicked, because Dobby is getting paid." Dobby looked down. "Though Dobby feels badly that Harry Potter is paying him so handsomely."

"So who would you suggest?" asked Harry.

"Harry Potter, Sir, Dobby believes that Miss Hermione Granger would be the best choice to help Winky!"

"Me?" squeaked Hermione. Her eyes widened so much that Harry thought she looked like a House Elf herself. "But—but I support freedom for House Elves!"

"Miss Granger supports that House Elves would be treated proper," corrected Dobby. "Miss Granger feels that this means pay, and sick leave, and vacation. But Miss Granger has learned that House Elves do not want pay, and that they enjoy their work so much that they see it as vacation. Miss Granger would treat Winky right, be nice to her, never beat her, and never give her clothes if she knew it would hurt her!"

Hermione stared at him, her mouth hanging open.

"Can Miss Granger deny?"

"...No." She heaved a sigh. "All right, Dobby. I'll talk to Winky." She scowled. "But if Winky says no, then that's that!"

Dobby nodded excitedly, then just as suddenly drooped. "But Winky is drunken right now. So Miss Granger should not see her like that."

"Certainly not!" agreed Hermione vehemently. "You tell her that if she wants to work for me, I want to meet her when she's sober. I would feel terribly agreeing to this while she's drunk!"

Dobby grinned at Harry. "Dobby was right. Miss Hermione is perfect for Winky!"

Hermione heaved a sigh of long suffering.

"Harry-kun!"

Harry turned, a smile spreading across his face, as Hotaru came bounding up to him. The blonde Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood, floated along behind her, like a dandelion seed caught in the Japanese girl's wake.

"Hello, Hotaru-chan." He nodded to Luna. "I see you got my message." He offered a hand to the blonde. "Pleased to meet you, Ms Lovegood."

"If you'll let me call you Harry, you can call me Luna," said the blonde. Her voice was light, and she had an air of distraction about her. Harry noted that she still wore a cork on a string around her neck.

"Thank you, Luna." He paused. "I've been told that you know about a great many things."

"I'm not an expert in anything in particular," said Luna. She appeared to be focusing on a crack in the wall. "But I try to keep an open mind."

"Well, I've got a magical egg. When I open it, it produces a loud screeching noise. It's meant to be a hint of some kind."

At the mention of a puzzle, Luna seemed to gain a great deal more focus. "I suppose it might be the cry of the augury," she said.

"Augury?" Harry hadn't heard of that creature before.

"Also called the Irish Phoenix," Luna clarified. "Its cry is said to herald a person's death. But I think they're just being slandered because they're not attractive. Or it might be the cry of a Mome Rath, though I've never heard that creature's cry. Perhaps I can hear the cry captured in the egg?"

"Err...Sure." He pulled the egg out of his bookbag, and twisted the knob on top to open it. He winced at the horrid screeching that emerged from it, as did Hotaru. Luna, on the other hand, simply listened intently. After a few seconds, however, she pushed it shut.

"Mermish," she said with authority.

"Sorry," said Harry. "What sort of creature is that?"

"Mermish is the language of the merfolk," clarified Luna.

"Merfolk...you mean like mermaids?" He wasn't entirely certain that she wasn't having him on.

"Yes. There's quite a population of them in the lake." She waved airily in the general direction of 'out there'. "It can only be understood by taking the egg under water. However, since so few people can speak Mermish—only Dumbledore, that I'm aware of—I expect that the merfolk whose voice was captured was actually speaking English."

"Underwater, eh?" Harry grinned. "Thanks, Luna. You're as brilliant as I was led to believe."

Luna blushed, but said, "When you figure out the clue, can you let me know what it is?"

"Sure thing." He stuffed the egg back into his bookbag. "But dinner will be served soon, so I think it'll have to wait until after that."