[A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! I don't see Gwendolena around anymore, so I'm going to assume she's content to await her chapter. Outside of her part in the story, I doubt we'll be seeing her agaOW—

I'm sorry, my water bottle just fell on my foot. I thought I'd put that well away from the edge of the desk. Weird. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, though.]

Sirius toyed idly with the filigreed edge of the napkin in his lap while he sipped at his delicious, overpriced barrel-aged Manhattan. Approximately five minutes after their appointed meeting time of half three, Lucius Malfoy sat down across from him.

"I'm surprised," Malfoy drawled, "that Montague's allows animals to sit at the table."

"You never know." Sirius put down his drink and gestured expansively with both hands. "Perhaps some of their clientele feels more comfortable with a dog at the table than a Death Eater."

"I was Imperius'd, you know," Malfoy said stiffly.

"Ah, individuals weak-willed enough that they could be induced to commit horrible crimes." Sirius nodded sagely. "Much safer to be around. I withdraw my previous comment, then."

Malfoy glared at him and didn't bother to thank the waiter who brought over his Tom Collins. "Playing at witticisms does not become you, Black. I'm only here because Narcissa said you had something that vaguely interested her."

"Ah, that," Sirius said dismissively, doing his best not to snort at Malfoy's prevarication. The blonde bigot wouldn't have rearranged his afternoon schedule on a moment's notice for something in which his wife was only mildly interested. Besides, Sirius remembered family gatherings with Narcissa when he was little. "Now that I'm safely ensconced as Lord Black, I find myself with a house elf who…isn't a good fit for my needs right now. I'm tempted to just kill him and mount him on the wall like he wants me to, but finding a new house elf would be time-consuming. Then, I recalled Narcissa's fondness for the elf and thought I'd offer you a trade: one of your house elves for Kreacher."

"Interesting." Lucius betrayed no emotions. "And why should I be interested in an elderly house elf like Kreacher?"

"You shouldn't be," Sirius said. "Your wife, on the other hand…"

"She is irrationally fond of the old thing." Lucius rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to trade you a healthy young house elf for him, though."

Sirius shrugged. "Then find me someone who will and buy him from them."

"That's not the problem. It's a terrible deal. He's simply not worth it." Lucius took a long pull from his drink.

"I suspect he is worth it, at least to you." Sirius paused to take a drink of his Manhattan. "Otherwise I wouldn't have invited you here…and you wouldn't have come."

"I…could perhaps be persuaded to take you up on your offer," Lucius allowed.

"Would a thousand galleons be sufficient persuasion?" Sirius asked.

"No, but five thousand might," Lucius replied.

Sirius snorted, earning a dirty look from a passing waiter. "I could purchase a house elf for twice that. Fifteen hundred."

"I could be persuaded down to three thousand," Lucius said.

"Sure, because you'd be robbing me blind," Sirius replied. "Two thousand, and you're still robbing me half-blind."

"Two thousand it is," Lucius said. "And yes, I am robbing you half-blind and enjoying every minute of it."

Sirius sighed and drank some more of his Manhattan. Dealing with Lucius was annoying, but at least it would avoid any awkward questions from the kids about the fate of the house elf.

Hermione's fork clattered down to her plate as her head jerked around to stare at Sirius. "You sold a thinking creature and bought another one?"

"They're house elves." Sirius didn't need his Grim side's enhanced senses to notice how still everyone else had gotten at the table. "All of the old families have them, so trades aren't unheard of."

"That's…" Harry shook his head. "That's slavery. You mean Neville has them, too?"

Hestia, who had once again stayed for dinner, cut in. "House elves all need to bond with wizarding families. I read about them in my supplemental History of Magic readings for my N.E.W.T.S."

"That's as may be," Isaac said, "but do they get to choose with whom they bond? Because it sounds like the house elves today didn't."

"Well, not usually, no," Hestia said.

"And do they get paid?" Hermione asked.

"House elves get insulted if you offer them wages," Sirius said.

"Really?" Miranda arched her eyebrows.

"Lily tried to get the Hogwarts house elves to demand wages once," Sirius said. "They got scared of her and asked Professor McGonagall to come down to the kitchens to take her away."

"My Mum was so cool," Harry said. Hermione high-fived him.

"It occurs to me," Isaac said, "that we could probably have some of our questions answered by the house elf in question. Could we meet him at some point?"

"Sure," Sirius said. "Dobby, can you hear me?"

A wizened little thing about a yard tall appeared behind Sirius with a soft popping sound. It had large, batlike ears and bulging green eyes, and wore a crude toga made from a ratty old pillowcase. "New Master cal—" He froze when he noticed everyone else in the room.

"Hello, Dobby," Isaac said.

"Is Dobby being allowed to talk to muggles?" Dobby asked Sirius.

"Of course!" Sirius said. "Everyone at this table is a friend of mine, and Harry there is my godson and heir."

"Oh!" Dobby said. "Hello muggleses! Dobby has never been allowed to talk to a muggle before."

"It's very nice to meet you, Dobby," Miranda said. "Could we ask you a few questions about yourself?"

"You…want to know about Dobby?" the elf asked.

"We certainly do," Hermione said.

"New Master knows the most wonderful muggleses!" Dobby said. "No one has ever wanted to know anything about Dobby."

"Dobby," Isaac said, "you call Sirius your 'master.' Does that mean you have to do everything he says?"

"Of course, because Dobby is a good elf. Dobby tries to be a good elf, anyway. Bad old masters thought Dobby was a bad elf and made him punish himself lots."

"Punish yourself?" Isaac asked.

"Yes, like telling Dobby to iron his ears or take things from the oven without oven mitts. Please don't tell Dobby to do that." The elf paused. "Dobby shouldn't be asking Master to do anything. Dobby will punish himself right now because he is a good elf!" He ran to the nearest dining room wall and started banging his head on the wall.

All of the adults, even Sirius, were too stunned to react, but Harry launched himself out of his chair and tackled Dobby. "Stop!" he shouted. "Don't do that!"

Hermione was right behind them and wrapped both of them in a tight, constricting hug. "Stop, please stop," she said.

"Good God," Isaac said. Miranda reached over and squeezed his hand, tears in her eyes.

"Dobby will stop punishing himself, Young Master," Dobby said, his voice muffled by the pile of children atop him.

Hermione, being the last person into the pile, was the first person to get up, and she helped Harry and Dobby back to their feet. "Good," she said as she did so. "Do you promise?"

"Dobby promises Young M—"

"Thank you!" Harry threw his arms around Dobby and hugged him.

"Dobby is never being hugged before," he said. "Dobby has the bestest new family in the whole world!"

Sirius smiled at his godson and the little witch he was starting to think of as his own, too. "I think it's the bestest family in the whole world, too, Dobby."

Once Harry let him go, Isaac spoke up again. "Dobby, we're happy to have you as part of the family, but would you rather be free?"

The little elf's ears flattened down and he backed away a step, cowering. "Is Dobby being a bad elf? Dobby is sorry! Please don't send Dobby away to another family!"

"It's alright," Hestia said quickly. "Nobody is going to send Dobby…you away."

"Then why ask Dobby if he want to be free?" Dobby asked, still nervous. "Nobody free good elves."

"You don't want to be free?" Miranda asked.

"House elves have to serve wizards and witcheses," Dobby said. "We needs their magic or we dies."

"You drain our magic?" Hermione asked.

"No, just what you lose anyway," Dobby replied.

"All magicals give off magic constantly," Hestia said. "That's how we can tell which children are witches and wizards. And no spell is perfectly efficient in terms of converting magical power to the result you're trying to achieve. House elves survive on what leaks off."

Isaac blinked. "The Third Law of Thermodynamics applies to magic, too?"

Everyone besides Hermione and Miranda stared at him blankly.

"Sorry, another time, maybe," Isaac said. "So, Dobby, am I correct in saying that you need to serve a magical family to survive, but that you don't need to be bound to them to do it?"

"Dobby thinks so," Dobby said. "Most elveses want the security of the bond so we knows we won't run out of magic, but as long as a witch or wizard have thingses for Dobby to do, Dobby will be fine."

"Then what if Sirius freed you and hired you to work for him, instead?"

"Oooh, then Dobby could be a free elf and not starve to death!" Dobby said. "Dobby would like that very much."

The Grangers and Harry all turned to stare expectantly at Sirius, who took a deep breath and pulled off his sock. "Here you go, Dobby," the man said. "How would you like to work for me, instead?"

"Dobby is…free?" Dobby looked up at Sirius and burst into tears. "Thank you! You is best Master in the whole world! Dobby would never want to work for anyone else."

"Great!" Sirius said. "How about four galleons a day, weekends and bank holidays off, and I pay for any medical bills you have?"

"Four galleons a day?" Dobby scoffed. "Dobby take no more than a galleon a month."

"That's…not how negotiations work," Miranda said, but Dobby ignored her.

"And what is 'off'?" the elf asked.

"Um…vacation," Sirius said. "You know, time when you don't have to work?"

"Dobby not be wanting vacation from helping Great Master!" Dobby said. "Dobby willing to take two whole galleons a month if Master doesn't make him take vacations."

"Are you sure?" Isaac asked.

Dobby nodded vigorously.

"Alright," Sirius said. "Two galleons a month and no vacation days. Let me know if you change your mind later."

"Dobby agree!" the little elf said. He enthusiastically shook Sirius's hand and ribbons of bright green magical light wove themselves around their arms.

"Does Master have any new orders for Dobby?" he asked.

"No, please just keep working on the attic," Sirius said.

"Oh, wait," Hestia said.

Dobby shot Sirius a glance and he nodded, so the elf turned to her. "Yes, Kind Friend of Master's?"

"Do you want something better to wear?" she asked. "I meant to ask you about that earlier and forgot."

"You cares about what Dobby wears?" he asked. "Dobby truly has best family in the whole world! Dobby can make himself new clothes if Master gives him permission."

"Of course!" Sirius said. "Please take four galleons from my vault and buy yourself whatever fabric and supplies you need."

"Thank you!" Dobby bounced excitedly. "Dobby do that when the shops are open tomorrow. Goodnight, wonderful new family!" He waved and popped away.

"Well…" Miranda sighed into the silence. "That was certainly something, wasn't it?"

"Indeed," Isaac said. "Sirius, I can't imagine buying him was cheap, but I appreciate you doing the right thing there."

"I'd never given it much thought," he said. "All of the elves at Hogwarts were happy and would never have wanted to be free, and most families treat their elves well, too. I should have guessed the Malfoys wouldn't, though, and I can't say the little guy doesn't deserve a salary."

"Thank you," Harry said. "I'm glad you did that." The Grangers nodded, too.

As had become their habit after eating dinner at the Grangers', Hestia accompanied Sirius back to his flat to use his floo. It was a cold evening in February, but Warming Charms took care of that problem and the walk was otherwise quite nice. Hestia waited until they were out of earshot of the house before speaking.

"I can't decide," she said, "whether you're incredibly noble or ludicrously indulgent."

"I have no idea," Sirius replied. "Let me know when you figure it out."

Hestia sputtered. "You have no idea? That was two thousand galleons, Sirius, on top of losing Kreacher."

"I know, I know." He paused to wait as an old muggle woman wrapped up in a woollen coat and headscarf trundled by them. "I was on the fence about what to do until Dobby said he actually wanted to be free. Merlin, Hestia, I spent six years locked up. I can't do that to someone else just because it'll cost me money."

They walked along in silence for a moment, with only the sound of the city around them and the occasional splash of their boots in a puddle, before Hestia spoke again. "Sirius, are we monsters? I never even thought about house elves like that, but if the Grangers and Harry were right…what else am I missing? What else am I blind to because that's just how I grew up?"

"I wish I knew," Sirius said. "I'd feel worse, but Kreacher damn well paid me back for any times people mistreated him, so I'm willing to call at least that one even."

"I envy your ability to not dwell on this," Hestia said drily. "It's driving me spare."

Sirius shrugged. "I spent six years being forced by Dementors to do nothing but dwell on horrible things. Honestly, I'm sick of it."

"Oh." She fell silent again.

"I swear I didn't say that just to make you feel bad," Sirius said after a moment. "I was in Azkaban. It was awful. I'm now focused on Harry and Hermione. That's it. I'm not trying to set myself up as worthy of pity or admiration."

"You are, though," Hestia said softly. "Most wizards would have come out of that experience as bitter, angry shells of themselves. You came out of it caring for those children and willing to spend thousands of galleons to do what you think is right. You're one wizard in a million, do you know that?"

Sirius shook his head. "I've done too many terrible and stupid things to deserve that praise."

"Even if you have, which I'm not sure I believe, you're not that man anymore," Hestia replied.

"You have to say that," Sirius said with a smirk. "I'm paying you."

The witch rolled her eyes. "If I had any sense about that sort of thing, would I have stood up to Narcissa?"

"Good point. How were you not in Gryffindor?"

"I had some friends in Hufflepuff and begged the hat to be with them," Hestia said.

"I see," Sirius said. "Anyway, in response to your earlier question, I'm just going to keep doing what I'm doing until Hermione or Harry point out a problem with it. Realistically, I'm fairly clever with charms and runes, but I'm no moral philosopher. If generations of wizards and witches haven't figured it out, I'm probably not going to. So I'll content myself with helping the next generation sort it out."

"That seems like a good way to approach it," Hestia said. "We can't live second-guessing ourselves all the time."

They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence. When Hestia said "goodnight" right before she floo'd home, Sirius had to battle back the temptation to hug her. From the way her arms twitched toward him for a moment, he wondered if she was fighting that same temptation.

That night, just before they started brushing their teeth, Harry whispered to Hermione to stay awake for awhile instead of going to sleep. She raised her eyebrows, but nodded. An hour later, after Isaac and Miranda had gone to bed, Harry crept out of his bedroom and knocked softly on Hermione's door. She opened it wearing a thick pink nightgown and an expression of curiosity on her face. He motioned for her to follow him back to his room, which was further away from her parents' room, and she did so.

"What's going on?" she asked as soon as he closed his door.

"One sec," Harry said. "Dobby, if you can hear me, please come here as quietly as you can."

The elf popped on Harry's bed a moment later. "Hello, Young Master Harry Potter and Young Mistress Hermione Granger," he whispered. "How can Dobby be helping you?'

Hermione gasped, but Harry just nodded. "Hi, Dobby. That's actually what I was hoping to talk to you about. Earlier, I thought you were going to say something like that about Hermione, so that's why I tackled you when I said 'thank you.' I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Young Master is so kind to worry about Dobby!" the little elf bounced a little on the bed. "Old Young Master used to laugh when Dobby got hurt."

"We've met Draco," Harry said, "and he's an absolute arsehole."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Language!"

"Fine. How would you describe him, then?"

"He's a…deeply unpleasant boy who's pretentious, hypocritical, bigoted, and self-centred," Hermione said.

"Exactly. So he's an arsehole," Harry said.

"Prat!" Hermione smacked Harry on the arm, but she was fighting a smile as she did it.

"Anyway," Harry said to Dobby, who was watching the back-and-forth with wide eyes, "does that mean that you can see our magical betrothal?"

Dobby nodded. "Yes, Dobby can. Is a weak betrothal, probably because you is so young, but Dobby can sees it."

"I was wondering about that," Harry said. "Could you not tell anyone, please, and not refer to Hermione as 'Young Mistress'? Everyone thinks Hermione and I successfully broke our bond, and we don't want to get in trouble."

The elf cocked his head at them. "This is yous bond after you partially broke it? Young Master and Mistress must love each other very much."

Harry felt his cheeks warming up and, even in the dim light of the nightlight, he could see Hermione's were aflame. "She's my best friend."

"And he's mine," Hermione added.

"Dobby can keep that quiet unless Master asks him directly," Dobby said. "Dobby cannot lie to Master."

"That fine," Harry said. "Thank you for hiding us."

"Dobby is happy to help, Young Master."

"You really don't have to call me that," Harry said.

"But you is Young Master. What else would Dobby call you?"

"Um…'Harry'?"

The elf shook his head. "Is not proper. You is Young Master, so Dobby calls you Young Master. Young Mistress isn't technically Young Mistress yet, so Dobby can wait on that. Dobby hopes she becomes Young Mistress soon, though. Dobby thinks you must love each other very much and Dobby has never had a family where Master and Mistress loved each other like that, but he hears from older elves that it being nice."

Hermione gasped. "That's awful! None of your families have loved each other?"

"Dobby is only being a hundred years old and has only served Malfoys. They marry for moneys, not for love."

"It's like in those old books," Harry said.

"A hundred years ago those books weren't old," Hermione said. "It sounds like the Malfoys still do that. No wonder they're so wealthy and hateful."

Dobby nodded. "Nobody mourn a dead Malfoy, not even live Malfoys."

"That's awful," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Harry said. "That's why we're going to break them one day: so they can't hurt anyone else like they want to hurt us, not even themselves."

Hermione nodded firmly. "That sounds like a good plan to me."

"Dobby is looking forward to serving Young Master and Hermione Granger," Dobby said with a smile. "Does yous need anythings else right now?"

"No, thank you, Dobby," Harry said. "I'm sorry if we interrupted your sleep."

"Harry Potter is truly a great wizard to think of Dobby's sleep!" Dobby said. "House elveses sleep like catses, though. We can gets up quickly if Master needs us."

"That's good," Harry said. "Goodnight, Dobby."

Hermione nodded. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" Dobby popped away.

After he left, Hermione sighed.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"No. It's just…do you think Dobby was right about us loving each other that much?" she asked hesitantly. The bright red blush of her cheeks was once again amplified by the dim yellow light of the nightlight.

Harry shrugged, a treacherous warming coming to his own cheeks. "I'm only ten years old and I have no idea." Her face started to fall, but he continued, "I'll bet I do love you, though. It's not like in all of those old poems or anything where my heart starts beating fast or I get tongue-tied. It's the opposite. I feel peaceful when I'm with you, like I could be anywhere in the world and, as long as you were there, it would feel like home."

She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh, Harry, if that's not love, I don't care what is."

"Yeah," he said into her bushy brown hair, "I don't think I do, either."