They were scattered about the house, each pursuing their own ends.
Hermione sat atop the broad, working table in the midst of two cauldrons, legs crossed before her, leaning against the wall nearest the empty cauldron to the left, thumbing through a text on soul magic she'd just found in the Potter Library.
Fred and George loomed over the opposite cauldron, a long stretch of parchment pinned to the wall to their right, at intervals preparing ingredients or referencing a number of potions theory texts they'd found on the waist-high shelf along the wall.
When she was sure they weren't looking, Hermione risked a glance above the pages spread before her. She studied him, and she bit her lip, and she fought the inclination to summon an excuse to capture his attention.
Despite it all, just at that moment, Fred darted his eyes in her direction. And as she shifted her gaze to the text before her, she was nearly certain that he'd blushed.
Ron sat in the living room, utterly defeated by a text on duelling theory. He wrestled, at intervals grabbing large tufts of his hair and shaking his head in bewildered frustration. Yet, though he'd refuse to voice it, every sentence grasped, every page turned, felt like a step toward becoming the person he secretly hoped he'd someday be.
Harry leaned against the arm of the mid-century leather wingback in his loft, his arm wrapped full around Luna, whose body melted into his. She was slowly soaking in a muggle text entitled A Shorter History of Byzantium. He was immersed in a text vaguely entitled Contributions, which catalogued the influence of major potions ingredients as additives to commonly recognized potions recipes.
Every few minutes, Harry's grip would tighten around Luna's torso, and she'd pull closer. As his forearm pressed gently just below her breasts, he felt her fullness and recalled the tension felt against his palm, and his pulse quickened. She knew, somehow, that this was precisely what he was thinking, and she smiled every time.
Just as Harry began thinking about dinner, the room echoed with a loud whip-crack, as Dobby materialised in their midst.
He was a vision in striking neon pink, the jarringly bright three-piece set in contrast against a golden bow-tie that literally glowed with a magical aura, and a pair of shiny golden oxfords.
"Harry Potter, sir! And the dearest Miss Luna Lovegood." At this, he bowed deeply. "Dobby has returned."
"Dobby! You're back!" Harry grinned.
Luna closed the distance between them, bowing in turn with a warm smile. "Welcome, Dobby. It's lovely to see you again." She took a step back, curiosity overtaking her expression. "Were you successful in your efforts?"
Dobby shook with overwhelming affection. "Dobby is pleased to be back, miss! Dobby is working these many years, and never was Dobby met with such kindness." Beaming pride overtook his expression, and his slight chest swelled. "Dobby has done exactly as Harry Potter asked, miss. Dobby has visited one hundred and twenty four book shops in eighty-six magical nations."
Harry's eyes shot wide.
"Dobby is finding tremendous success. Dobby has purchased on Harry Potter's behalf one thousand, six hundred and twenty-one of the finest works on Fairies."
Harry was struck with dumbfounded shock. "One thousand…"
Dobby, pleased with himself, nodded so aggressively his ears shook. "Indeed, sir. One thousand, six hundred, and twenty-one books, sir. Dobby is consulting nineteen scholars to find the rarest books, sir. Dobby is being told that Harry Potter has now the world's finest collection of books on Fairies, sir."
Luna was overcome with a fit of giggles apparently impossible to suppress.
Harry fought for composure. "Wow. Yeah. Okay." He took a breath. "That's, um… that's great Dobby!" A beat of hesitation. "Out of curiosity, how much of the Potter fortune was expended in these efforts?"
Dobby's expression adopted a formal air. "As Harry Potter's chief-of-staff, Dobby has been granted full knowledge of the Potter estate and its holdings. Dobby is taking a measured approach, sir. Dobby has expended forty thousand, eight hundred and nineteen galleons on the Fairy books, sir."
Harry nearly doubled over. Dobby didn't notice.
"Dobby is told that such an expenditure represents one half day's earnings on the Potter estate's investments, sir."
Luna flushed, her lips parted, her eyes shot wide, and she slowly exhaled.
Harry was stunned. "One half day's earnings?!"
"Indeed, sir." At this, he again bent in a reverential bow. "Dobby is proud to serve the Ancient and Noble House of Potter."
It took a moment for Harry to grapple with the weight of implications. He shook himself. "Wow. Okay. Well done, Dobby. There's actually one more thing, but you've been awfully busy. I hate to overwhelm you with more work."
Dobby stood erect, hands on his hips, shaking his head violently. "Nonsense, sir! Dobby is eager to serve Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is never feeling more rested, or more fulfilled."
Harry laughed. "Okay, Dobby. When you have a moment. The one thousand, six hundred and…"
"Twenty-one, sir."
"Right. The one thousand, six hundred and twenty-one volumes on Fairies? Would you permanently transfer them to Luna's library?"
Luna, who had rallied her poise first to suppress infectious laughter, and then to stifle an unexpected rush of base pleasure at the notion that her future husband was loaded, was at least a few beats behind the conversation.
Suddenly she darted her eyes to him, wide with stunned disbelief. She shook with a sharp intake of breath.
"Oh, Harry. No, darling, I—"
"Luna, what you've been working toward could change everything. You'll need all the resources you can get."
"But, Harry, it's—"
"Luna." He smiled, lacing his fingers between hers. "If we're to go, you'll need to lead us there."
She stood helpless, her expression stilled, her piercing gaze captured altogether by his. Her voice caught in overwhelming emotion, she whispered. "Thank you, Harry Potter."
He smiled, pulled her hand to his lips, and lightly kissed her fingers.
Dobby, who had been passively observing the two, slowly shifting his attention from Luna to Harry, and then back again, recognized in his own way that the moment was over.
"Dobby will transfer the collection immediately, Harry Potter, sir." He turned again to Luna. "Dobby will be needing kindest Miss Luna Lovegood to grant him access to the Lovegood property, ma'am."
Still recovering, she slowly shifted her gaze away from Harry. "Access? Ah. Of course, Dobby." She set her eyes on Dobby's, shifting her focus in a pointed, formal manner. "I, Luna Lovegood, heiress of the House of Lovegood, do grant you, Dobby, chief-of-staff of the House of Potter, apparition access to the Rook, our family estate."
The air between them stirred and a chill ran up Harry's spine.
Dobby smiled. "Thank you, dearest Miss Luna Lovegood."
She nodded with kind eyes. "Of course, Dobby."
As he was lifting his hands to snap away, Dobby halted in sudden realisation. "Oh! Dobby is nearly forgetting to mention, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby has collected a copy of every potions text published in the last forty years, sir. Dobby has collected three hundred and forty-six volumes, sir. May Dobby add these to the potions library in the laboratory, sir?"
Harry lit up. "Three hundred!?" He paused, his brow furrowing. "Wow. I'm not sure they'll fit, Dobby."
Dobby shook his head. "This won't be a problem for Dobby, sir."
At this, he snapped, and a loud whip-crack echoed through the loft.
Hermione pulled her eyes from the pages before her, having heard the distant crack of apparition from the direction of Harry's room. She glanced in the direction of the stairs, and had nearly decided to investigate when another, much nearer, crack shook the Potion's Lab.
"Miss Hermione Granger!" Dobby stood before her. All comprehensible thought flew out the window as soon as her eyes were assaulted by the neon pink three-piece. "Oh, what a pleasure it is to see you! Dobby isn't expecting to see anyone, excepting of course the kindest Miss Luna Lovegood!"
"Dobby!" The twin's warm welcome startled Dobby, and he leapt in surprise.
Hermione set aside her book, shifted off the work table, and knelt to Dobby's eye level. "It's a pleasure to see you, Dobby! I've heard you're in the employ of the Potter House? Congratulations. Such a position couldn't have been given to a finer person."
At this, Dobby's eyes welled and soon he shook with joyful sobs. It took nearly two minutes for him to regain his composure, and Hermione fought the inclination to comfort him.
"Indeed, miss!" He blew two nostrils worth of snot into the handkerchief she'd pulled from her back pocket. "Dobby has never been happier. Never in a hundred lifetimes could Dobby be imagining such generosity and opportunity." He suddenly brightened, their recent conversation coming to mind. "Dobby has been encouraging Winky and many other house elves to pursue such employment."
She smiled broadly. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Dobby."
"Absolutely, Dobby." George joined in. "Come to think of it, Fred, weren't we considering supplemental staffing for our… pending operation?"
"That we were, brother." Fred replied, shifting his attention. "Dobby, would you mind putting out feelers for a free house elf we can trust to monitor potions recipes. Talent with expansion charms is essential. Ability to craft chocolate and candied confections is a huge plus. We'd pay well, of course. And the salary includes room, board, and benefits."
Hermione had been watching the exchange with piqued interest. At the offer of generous compensation, however, her pulse quickened, her lips parted and she altogether flushed. Time slowed as he spoke the words. The united influence of an awkward halt in conversation, a stilled room, and nearly twenty seconds of silence forced upon her the sudden realisation that she'd been biting her lip, breathing deeply, and staring with unbroken attention at Fred's gentle smile.
Oh no. "Right! So, um." She was scrambling. Focus, Hermione. "Dobby. What, uh, what occupies your attention this afternoon?" She altogether refused to shift her attention away from Dobby's broad eyes.
"Dobby is delivering a collection of the latest potions texts, at Harry Potter's own request." He puffed with pride, lifted his hand and snapped.
Several things happened just at this moment.
Hermione's attention was pulled to the far wall. The waist-high bookcase just behind the twins was changing, expanding inch-by-inch, as if the very limbs of the trees whose fibres lent structure to the shelves were growing in time-lapse. At eighteen inches, the growth split, out and up. In minutes, the shelf had grown to ceiling height, six empty wall length rows now looming over the full shelves below.
They'd just begun to shift their attention back to Dobby, when Hermione noticed the growth continue, wrapping around the corner and crawling, inch-by-inch, above them on the ceiling. In time, there were twelve additional rows, stretching nearly to the opposite wall.
With another snap, countless books filled the shelves. Wonder caught her, and the huff of an awestruck laugh exited her lips as Hermione stood beneath at least 180 leather volumes, suspended in defiance of gravity.
"Impressive, isn't it brother?" Fred broke the silence.
"But how are we to reach them?" George asked.
Hermione, intuiting the magic, scanned the looming texts. For the briefest of moments, her eyes darted to Fred. "Potions for Sustained Attention and Supernatural Awareness. Sounds interesting."
Just then, the text she'd referenced pulled itself from its row, and gently placed itself on the working table below.
"Brilliant." The word left Fred's lips, loaded with double meaning.