Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Damaged Bridges	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 47327 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights belong to Rowling and Warner Bros, nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
There's No Place Like Home

“Oh, thank goodness!” said Parvati, looking very relieved to see Harry, Hermione, and Dora when Harry opened the front door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. “You’re back!”
“Of course they are,” beamed Luna.
“So did you get it then?” asked Ginny, “...the artifact you were trying to find? Is Dumbledore safe too?”
“Hang on a tick, love,” said Dora, grinning as she, Harry, and Hermione entered the dimly lit foyer. “Give us a chance to catch our breaths.”
“But yeah, we got it,” Harry managed to gasp as his adrenaline began to ebb and his breathing slowed.
“I could use a cup of tea after all that,” said Hermione, bustling into the kitchen followed by the others. She filled a kettle at the white porcelain sink and set it on the stove..
“Anyway,” said Harry, glancing at Ginny, “I dunno if Dumbledore made it out yet, but he should be alright. We’ll check in a bit...” Harry turned to Dora. “I just want to get this over with. I’ll feel loads better when it’s finished.”
“Right! Of course Harry! Here you go then.” Dora nodded, retrieving Slytherin’s Locket from her pocket and handing it to Harry.
“So this is it,” Harry murmured, holding it up by the slender chain. “The real locket.”
The golden locket dangled, glinting in the light from the chandelier above the oak table as it swung back and forth like a pendulum. Luna, Ginny, and Parvati eyed it with bated breath, taken with curiosity.
Harry was almost mesmerised, his eyes following the swinging locket. Unlike the Diadem, he didn’t need Hermione’s help to sense it. He could feel the evil radiating from it, pulsing in time with his throbbing scar. Hermione shot him a look of concern.
“Are you alright Harry?”
“I will be when it’s over,” he muttered.
Harry tried to undo the clasp; he frowned when it wouldn’t budge, wondering if it required him to speak in Parseltongue to open it. Hermione abruptly clapped her hand over his, looking frightened.
“Don’t! ... Don’t open it Harry!”
“Huh?” Harry peered at Hermione, puzzled. “Why not?”
“I’m not sure,” Hermione admitted. “I... There’s just something about it. I just think there will be trouble if you open it.”
“You feel it too then?”
Hermione bit her lip, frowning. “Maybe! I can’ t really speak to what you’re feeling. But there’s definitely something off about it.”
“Yeah there is! There’s a piece o’ that maniac inside it,” said Dora, picking up the sword of Gryffindor from the table by its ruby encrusted hilt. “Hermione’s right Harry. Don’t open that bloody thing! Just do it in!”
“There’s a piece of You-Know-Who inside it?” Ginny gasped, suddenly alarmed. “You mean like a lock of his hair or something?” she asked, having a bad feeling that it was hardly anything so mundane.
Harry shook his head, his stomach clenching, wondering if Hermione and Dora were right.
“No - a piece of Voldemort’s soul. As long as it’s inside this thing, Voldemort can’t die. That’s why he managed to survive all these years, and that’s why we have to destroy it.”
“Like... like his diary then.” Ginny’s breathing quickened, her nostrils flaring angrily. She glowered at the locket. “I agree with Hermione and Dora. Don’t open it Harry!”
Harry swallowed, his eyes widening as it really hit him. Of all people, Ginny would have an inkling of what resided within the locket. He frowned when he realised what he had almost done.
“Yeah! ... Yeah, you’re probably right,” Harry murmured. “I’m not sure why I thought I should open it.”
“Because it wanted you to open it,” said Luna. “I felt it too Harry.”
“That sounds about right,” Harry agreed, nodding. “Okay, let’s do this then.”
Harry kneeled down and gingerly laid the locket on the tiled kitchen floor. Then he took the sword of Gryffindor from Dora’s hand and peered at the silver blade, holding it up to the light, his brow knitted in thought. After a moment, Harry held it out as if to give the sword to Ginny.
“Here, take it!”
“What?” asked Ginny, bewildered. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Stab the locket with it,” Harry replied matter-of-factly. “I reckon you deserve to kill a piece of the bastard who possessed you.”
“Me? Really?” A range of emotions flickered across Ginny’s features. “Are you sure? He killed your parents Harry.”
“Yeah! I’m sure!” said Harry firmly. “I got the one which almost did you in. Go on, take it!”
Her hand shaking slightly, Ginny took the sword and gazed at it. Then she took a deep breath, her jaw setting in resolve. Harry gestured for everyone to stand back. Grasping the hilt with both hands, Ginny lofted the sword above her head; the blade flashed as she swung it down, striking the golden locket.
Sparks flew. A shrieking cacophony rent the air and Parvati winced, clapping her hands over her ears. A whirling tornado of black smoke billowed from the locket as it screamed and shuddered. The copper pots and pans dangling from hooks on the rack near the stove clanged and clattered as the gale force wind swept around the kitchen.
Knees wobbling, Harry groaned and clutched at his searing scar, feeling as if it had been stabbed with a hot poker, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead. Hermione caught him as he collapsed, gasping for air, and slumped in her arms. A black venomous ooze bled from the mangled locket and as quickly as it had begun, the howling tempest was over, the black smoke dissipating.
“Harry!” Ginny squealed in horror, dropping the sword when she saw him deathly pale and shaking in Hermione’s grasp.
Luna’s eyes turned into saucers. Dora stood nearby and swallowed anxiously, never having seen Harry look in so much pain.
“Is... is he alright?” Parvati asked tearfully.
“He will be in a few minutes,” Hermione reassured everyone. “It happens every time...” she trailed off, biting her lip.
“There are more of them, aren’t there?” said Luna, her voice calm. “Whatever those things are - besides the locket and the diary. And Harry’s connected to them somehow through the scar that Voldemort gave him, isn’t he?”
Hermione nodded, not sure what else to say. Harry’s breathing slowed as the burning pain ebbed and he extricated himself from Hermione’s embrace, sitting in a chair at the table.
“I think I’ll have that cup of tea now,” said Harry quietly.
The kettle was whistling on the stove, steam pouring from its spout, but nobody had noticed during the tumult. Everyone else took seats while Dora found some teacups in the cupboard. After a few sips of tea, Harry spoke again, looking at Luna, but addressing Ginny and Parvati as well.
“Yeah - there’s more of those things. They’re called horcruxes - enchanted vessels, each containing a piece of Voldemort’s soul. We’ve been hunting them - me, Hermione, Dora, with Dumbledore. We’ve already killed two others besides Riddle’s Diary and the Locket - a Ring and Ravenclaw’s Diadem...
“Now there’s only two left - Hufflepuff’s Cup, and we think Voldemort’s snake. But we still have to find them and destroy them, and then...” Harry heaved a sigh. “...then there’s me! ... My scar...”
“What?” gasped Parvati, “You’re a horcrux too? How?”
“No way, Harry!” said Ginny, cutting across Parvati, speaking at the same time. “We’re not killing you!”
“No! Of course we’re not killing him!” said Hermione adamantly, glaring at Harry. “Don’t even suggest that, Harry!”
“Hermione, but what if it’s the only way...?” Harry began, a note of frustration creeping into his voice.
“No Harry!” she said sharply. “You heard what Dumbledore said. You’re not a real horcrux! Voldemort never had a chance to enchant you to be a proper vessel - if he even could have, considering your mother’s protection charm. There’s another way to get rid of it... I know there is!”
“Well, I hope we figure it out then, before it’s too late,” he muttered.
“We will Harry!” chimed in Dora. “Look, we just have to find Hufflepuff’s Cup and do it in before Voldemort finds us, or we find him - And you know that’s gonna happen sooner or later. ... Find Voldy, and we find the snake. We’ll do ‘em both at the same time, and then we’ll figure out how to get rid of the piece of that bastard in you, before ‘e gets a chance to find some other idiot to resurrect him.”
“That sounds like a good plan to me, Harry,” said Luna earnestly.
Harry sighed again, glancing in turn at all of the young witches at the table, seeing the determination in their faces.
“Right! Okay! ... We have to do in the other horcruxes before we deal with me anyway. So let’s just focus on that for now and start working on finding Hufflepuff’s Cup...”
“Not tonight we’re not!” said Dora firmly. “Tonight, we’re gonna grab some grub and get some sleep. Then we’re gonna hunker down here for a bit until we’ve worked out our next move with Dumbledore. Speakin’ of which, we should probably check in with Dumbledore and make sure he got out of the Ministry okay.”
Harry flushed, mentally kicking himself. Dumbledore! Harry had been so intent on finishing off the horcrux as soon as possible, that Dumbledore had slipped to the back of his mind. Though Harry tried to make himself feel better by reassuring himself that Dumbledore had a surefire way of escaping the Ministry’s clutches.
“Yeah! Of course,” Harry mumbled, embarrassed as he reached into a pocket for his mirror. “I’ll try calling him right now.”
But as soon as Harry touched his mirror, he heard another voice he recognised immediately saying, “Harry, you there? Harry? ...” and peered into it seeing a freckled face and red hair.
“Ron?” he muttered, “What the...?” Then Harry shut up to listen to the message that Ron had left for him and everyone leaned in closer so they could hear it as well - Ginny especially.
“Hey, Harry...” said the image of Ron; from what Harry could see of the background, Ron appeared to be at home in his room. What on earth was Ron doing at the Burrow?
“...if you get this,” Ron continued, “I just wanted t’let you know, Snape and a load of Death Eaters took over Hogwarts looking for you and Dumbledore, Hermione too. I think they were gonna nab me too, because Snape wanted to talk to me to find out where you were...”
Ginny looked horrified and let out a little squeak.
“Anyway,” Ron went on. “I snuck out of the castle with Lavender - that Lucky Potion was dead useful - I reckon we couldn’t’ve pulled it off without it... Anyway, like I was saying, me and Lavender did a bunk, and I'm at home right now. Call me as soon as you get a chance.”
“Oh thank goodness!” Ginny let out a huge sigh of relief. “He’s safe.”
“Bloody hell!” Harry swore. He was glad that Ron had got out before anyone could torture him, but what about everyone else? The Ministry at Hogwarts was bad enough, but Death Eaters... Harry shot Hermione and Dora a dark look.
“Looks like Draco Malfoy’s mates found a way in after all.” Dora scowled.
“Hmm... I’m not so sure it was them,” said Hermione, frowning pensively. “I rather think they’re a bit too thick to find any sort of secret passage, but maybe...”
“Yeah,” Harry growled. “They probably couldn’t find their arses unless someone gave them a swift kick in the bum...”
“...But maybe someone else could.” Hermione raised her eyebrows and gave Harry a meaningful look. “Someone who helped find secret passages before...”
“Wormtail!” Harry spat, suddenly comprehending Hermione’s insinuation. “Of course! That’s it Hermione! It has to be him! He probably managed to sneak into the Honeyduke’s tunnel and find another way in...”
“I don’t know why he didn’t tell Voldemort before, though,” said Hermione, perplexed. “Voldemort wouldn’t have needed Malfoy to mend the Vanishing Cabinet if he had.”
“Dunno,” said Harry, shaking his head. “Somehow we just got bloody lucky that Wormtail never told Voldemort about the entrance behind the One Eyed Witch before Dumbledore blocked it. Though maybe Voldemort never asked him if he knew a way in - probably never even bothered to tell him about Malfoy’s secret mission. He didn’t seem to think much of Wormtail when I last saw them both together...”
Harry swallowed as Cedric’s dead eyes invaded his mind again, for the first time since Sirius’s had supplanted them in his nightmares. He was thankful that the nightmares had lessened considerably with Hermione to keep him company at nights, but dead Sirius still haunted his dreams from time to time.
“I’m not sure why really,” he went on, his voice creaking. “Wormtail did everything Voldemort could possibly want - he’s the only one who ever bothered to look for him, and he’s the one who brought him back...”
Harry trailed off, a distant look in his eye. Hermione took his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. An uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen of Number Twelve.
“I wonder if Dumbledore knows about the Death Eaters in Hogwarts yet?” said Parvati worriedly after a few moments had passed. “I hope Padma’s alright.”
“I expect she will be,” Hermione replied. “I doubt Voldemort will be very interested in harming most of the students unless they cause problems for whoever he’s put in charge. I suppose it’s the muggleborn students who have the most to worry about.”
Still feeling unsettled, Harry picked his mirror up from the table and spoke into it.
“Professor Dumbledore? ...” Harry was nearly instantly rewarded by Dumbledore’s piercing blue gaze and felt the knot in his stomach unwinding.
“Ah, Harry, I was just about to check in with you. I am pleased to see you safe and well...”
“You too, sir,” said Harry, relieved. “You made it out alright then?”
“Yes indeed,” the headmaster responded. “Fawkes proved as reliable as ever. Can I presume Miss Granger and Tonks escaped safely as well? We were certainly pushing it on time there in regards to the polyjuice potion.”
“Yeah - it was a bit touch and go at the end, Professor. We were rumbled at the very last minute, but we made it out in the nick of time. We’ve already finished off the horcrux too. There is a problem though - I just heard from Ron - Death Eaters stormed Hogwarts. It seems like Snape is in charge, but Ron has no idea that he’s still on our side.”
“Well, that is something I suppose,” sighed Dumbledore, looking troubled. “I had not expected Voldemort to openly take Hogwarts quite so soon with the Ministry at his disposal, but Severus should be able to manage things as long as everyone keeps their head down. I’ll look into it at my earliest convenience... Now on to other business.
“First, my compliments for a job well done at the Ministry, Harry. If Miss Granger and Tonks are there with you, pass my congratulations on to them. And it is splendid to hear that Slytherin’s Locket is now destroyed...”
“Yeah,” Harry suddenly grinned, looking up at the young witch with red hair sitting across the table from him, “You can thank Ginny for that! I reckoned she should have a crack at doing a horcrux in.”
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I see. Yes indeed - Miss Weasley did deserve the opportunity. Very good! ... In any case, I have no doubt that you wish to begin an immediate search for the next horcrux on our to-do list - however, for the time being, I must ask you and your companions to remain at Number Twelve, until we have at least an inkling of where to start our search.”
Harry raised his eyebrows and shot a wry look at Dora. “Okay, I suppose - as long as we don’t have to wait too long. Dora more or less said the same thing... ”
“Ah, you would do well to heed Tonks’s word. Very well then, I have some other business to attend to. I shall contact you as soon as I have any information worth imparting, but you may contact me at any time you need.”
“Alright, thanks Professor,” said Harry. “Bye for now.”
Dumbledore’s face vanished from the mirror, leaving Harry in a much better mood as he returned it to his pocket.
“Right,” said Dora, “Now that’s outta the way, how about we get some dinner. I’m famished.”
“Just one more thing first,” said Harry. “I think maybe I should give Kreacher the Locket, so he knows that it’s over.”
“Of course,” Hermione beamed. “That’s a lovely idea Harry. He should be able to move on now, knowing that Regulus’s final request has been fulfilled...”

~o0o~
Draco paled, his chest tightening when he was called to the headmaster’s office. Reaching the top of the spiral staircase after the Gargoyle sourly let him pass, he rapped the brass handle three times on the sturdy oak door.
“Enter,” Snape’s voice called out from within.
Draco opened the door slowly; he swallowed nervously to see Snape staring coldly at him. Snape gestured at a rigid wooden chair in front of the desk.
“S...sir?” said Draco, taking his seat.
“I was hoping to see Weasley at the conclusion of dinner,” Snape responded, his dark eyes glittering dangerously, “but I am told that he has disappeared - vanished into thin air apparently. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Er... I’m n...not sure,” Draco stammered.
“Do not lie to me Draco. You should know better than that.”
“Okay! P...please, sir, don’t tell the Dark Lord. I... I thought I saw someone slip out the front doors. I followed to see wh...who it was. It was Weasley and his girlfriend. I tried to stop them, b...but all of my spells kept missing somehow. Weasley stunned me, and when I came to... he was gone.” Draco gulped.
Snape’s taut features relaxed slightly and he sighed.
“Thank you for the truth, Draco - I am well aware that you had designs on your prey, and would not have easily let him escape if you could help it. I suspect some sort of magic prevented your spells from hitting their mark - perhaps Felix Felicis. I know Slughorn had some available earlier this year. ... The Dark Lord will not be pleased, but I will do what I can to soften the blow.
“It was not entirely your fault after all. Indeed, of all those Death Eaters stationed here, you were the only one with the presence of mind to notice that Weasley was gone. That alone should grant you some measure of reprieve. I will vouch for you and suggest that Weasley was already too distant for your spells to reach him.
“I did, after all, promise your mother that I would do my best to look after your interests, and it is close enough to the truth in any case.”
Draco heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir. I won’t fail the Dark Lord again - I promise.”
“Very good,” said Snape, giving him a curt nod. “That will be all, Draco.”

~o0o~
Kreacher was so overcome with emotion that he burst into tears when Harry gave him the damaged Locket. Sobbing, Kreacher fell to his knees, his bat-like ears quivering as he prostrated himself on the kitchen floor.
“Thank you Master! Thank you!” the house-elf wailed, big fat tears rolling down his little cheeks. “Master Harry is keeping his promise to Kreacher - is helping Kreacher keep his promise to Master Regulus! Kreacher is good elf again...”
“Kreacher, get up, please,” said Harry, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as glanced at the others. “You don’t have to bow to me. Anyway, it wasn’t just me. Hermione and Dora helped me get it, and Ginny is the one who actually destroyed the Locket...”
“But only because you gave it to me, Harry,” said Ginny quickly, surprised at the wizened old house-elf’s about-face when Kreacher obeyed Harry and clambered to his feet.
“Missy Weasley? She kills the locket?” Kreacher’s bulbous eyes boggled. He bowed towards Ginny. “Thank you, Missy Weasley, for helping my Master.”
Ginny couldn’t quite believe it. The last time she had seen Kreacher he had been giving her the evil-eye and muttering things like “Blood-Traitor Brat” and other, much nastier things under his breath about her under his breath at every opportunity.
“Oh, erm... you’re welcome, Kreacher,” said Ginny, still trying to wrap her head around the change which had come over him. Kreacher returned his attention to Harry.
“What are Master’s orders?” asked Kreacher. “What service can Kreacher provide?”
“Er, if... if you want, you can return to Hogwarts,” said Harry awkwardly, “but only if you want to.”
“Kreacher wishes only to serve Master Harry and his Mistress,” Kreacher croaked, his eyeballs flickering towards Hermione. “Kreacher is not wanting to work at Hogwarts.”
Harry sighed and glanced at Hermione questioningly.
She bit her lip, appearing torn, and shrugged. “If... if that’s what he really wants, Harry. It’s Kreacher’s choice”
“Yeah, alright Kreacher,” Harry relented after a moment, nodding, “You can work for me then.”
“Thank you Master Harry!” The house-elf gave a little bow, apparently having not taken Harry’s earlier admonition as a direct order. “Perhaps Master and Mistress and their friends are hungry. Kreacher can make dinner.”
“Er... okay! Sounds great,” said Harry, thinking that having a servant would take some getting used to. “Thanks Kreacher. But first, why don’t you get cleaned up and change into something decent. Surely there are some nice clean towels or something left around somewhere - I doubt Mundungus nicked those.”
“Yes Master Harry sir. Kreacher will do as you please...”
The ancient house-elf vanished from the kitchen with a crack. As exhaustion from the long day began to set in, Harry and the troupe of witches retired to one of Number Twelve’s parlours and slumped on the sofas.
Soon they heard sounds of clanging pots and pans in the kitchen, and when they next saw Kreacher, he was like a different house-elf altogether, wearing a fluffy white towel, and his ear hair as clean and white as spun cotton. Harry finally noticed that he was wearing Regulus’s locket - the one Harry had given him at Hogwarts.
Kreacher arrived in the parlour with a hovering silver tray that Mundungus Fletcher had missed, laden with a feast as bountiful and delicious smelling as those at Hogwarts. With a wave of his knobbly hands, the tray floated across the room and came to rest on a mahogany coffee table, and with a snap of his fingers, the logs in the fireplace burst into flame, bathing the parlour in a warm orange glow.
“If Master is needing anything else, just call,” said Kreacher, then he vanished once more.
“Where did all this food come from?” Parvati marveled as she dug into the shepherd’s pie. “Surely anything in the pantry would have spoiled if nobody’s been here for ages.”
“Well, it was headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix for a while until recently,” Hermione replied while forking a piece of roast chicken . “I expect there was some left over food in the fridge or at least some tins of food for Kreacher to work with.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” said Dora as she carved herself a slab from the roast beef and grabbed a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “Mad Eye... er, Moody and I were holin’ up here over the Christmas Holidays - left a load of tins in the pantry - and the fridge is magical, so whatever was left in there should’ve still been fresh enough. Dunno if anyone else ‘as been here since though - doubt it as there hasn’t been a meeting here for ages and most of the Order’s been off on other assigments...”
After dinner was finished, Kreacher served up some treacle tart and trifle for dessert. Soon everyone was rubbing their bellies in satisfaction and yawning. Harry was just about to find rooms for everyone when they were interrupted by a loud pop, startling the lot of them. Parvati squealed and Dora’s wand was instantly in her hand.
Luna looked on with great interest, and Harry’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw Dobby struggling with a very irate looking snowy owl, and an even angrier hissing, spitting, orange ball of fur.
Apparently Hedwig and Crookshanks didn’t think very much of traveling by apparition. The badly scratched but gleeful looking Dobby released Hedwig and Crookshanks. The owl flew to the top of a tall highly polished mahogany bookcase squawking furiously at him, and the cat simply turned his back on the House-Elf, wagging his bushy tail crossly.
“Dobby is rescuing Harry Potter’s and Missy Granger’s owl and cat,” squeaked the delighted house-elf.
“Er... thank you very much Dobby!” said Harry, torn between bemusement and concern.
“Oh you poor thing,” Hermione dabbed at Dobby’s bleeding claw and peck marks with her hanky. “You really didn’t have to bring Hedwig...”
“...I told Hedwig this is one of the places to look for me if I ever had to leave Hogwarts,” Harry continued.
“But thank you for bringing Crookshanks,” said Hermione. “Lavender was going to look after him, but she left Hogwarts with Ron.”
“Dobby knows,” squeaked Dobby. “Dobby overhears Missy Granger making plans with Missy Brown, then Dobby sees Harry Potter’s Weasley running away with Missy Brown tonight, and Dobby knows that Missy Granger is being sad without her cat. ... But it be too dangerous for Harry Potter’s owl to fly to London. Dobby overhears Death Eaters plan to find Harry Potter’s owl and put tracking spell on her - they might be hurting her.”
“Oh... you did the right thing then Dobby.” said Harry, giving Hedwig a reproachful eye.
Hedwig sheepishly turned her face away and hooted apologetically at Dobby. Hermione raised her eyebrows at her cat; Crookshanks looked a bit ashamed of himself.
“Anyway, thanks again Dobby,” said Harry. “That was brilliant! You should probably go back to Hogwarts and get some sleep...”
“But Dobby is not wanting to go back to Hogwarts,” the house-elf moaned. “Dobby is wanting to work for Harry Potter, sir.”
Harry groaned and palmed his face, rubbing at his forehead and aching scar; he glanced at Hermione who unhelpfully looked amused. Ginny, Luna, and Parvati all did their best to stifle their giggles.
“Er... I sort of have a house-elf already, Dobby.” Harry gave Dobby an apologetic look.
“Yes, Dobby knows that too. Kreacher is Harry Potter’s house-elf, but Dobby is also wanting to work for Harry Potter.” Dobby peered at Harry pleadingly.
“Okay, fine!” Harry sighed resignedly. “I don’t really want you to have to work at Hogwarts with Death Eaters running the place anyway. If Malfoy shows up, he might cause trouble for you. But you’re my friend, and if you’re going to work for me I’m paying you ten galleons a week, none of this one galleon a week rubbish.”
“That is being too much sir, but Dobby is willing to settle for two galleons a week if Harry Potter insists on paying Dobby more.”
Harry shook his head, a wry smile on his lips, understanding now how Dobby had managed to haggle Dumbledore down to one galleon a week. He supposed that Dobby might have accepted more if Dumbledore had been a preferred employer - Dobby had probably been hopeful to eventually work for Harry one day.
“Alright then, five galleons a week,” said Harry, smiling ironically, “but no less. And you and Kreacher will have to work out with each other how best to divvy up the chores.”
“Then Dobby graciously accepts Master Harry’s generous offer,” Dobby beamed. “What can Dobby be doing for Master Harry first?”
“Find yourself a room and get some sleep,” said Harry.
“A room?” Dobby squeaked, his eyes bulging in shock. “Dobby is sharing a room with many house-elfs at Hogwarts, but you is giving Dobby a whole room to himself?”
“Yeah, I am! You and Kreacher can both have your own rooms. This place has loads of spare bedrooms - I don’t see any reason why either of you should live in ratty nests or have to share, unless you want to of course.”
“Master Harry is too good to Dobby, but if that is Master’s wish,” said Dobby, his eyes brimming with happy tears.
“It is. Now go on, off to bed.”
Dobby vanished with a pop. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
“Blimey! I hope that’s it,” he said ruefully. “If Winky shows up begging for work too...”
Hermione raised her eyebrows and gave Harry a look. “Then you’ll let her, won’t you?”
“Er... I will?” Harry gawked at Hermione in surprise.
“Yes, you will!” said Hermione firmly. “I don’t like the idea any more than you do, Harry. If I had my way, they would all be getting paid, and having holidays, and sick leave, and be allowed to wear clothes, and be free to work for whoever they liked without any magical coercion. But I’m well aware that won’t be happening any time soon - not until there are some big changes in the wizard world. ... And in the meantime Kreacher and Winky couldn’t do better than to work for someone as kind as you if they really want to work without any pay.”
“But what would I do with three house-elves?” Harry grumbled. “There wouldn’t be enough work to go round... unless...” A brainwave suddenly hit Harry full force. “...unless one of them wouldn’t mind working for someone else. Hey,” said Harry eagerly, “what if I told Dobby to ask Winky if she would like to work for the Weasleys? Then Winky would have a proper family to look after.”
“I’m not sure, Harry.” Hermione looked a bit dubious “What do you think?” she asked Ginny. “Would your mum actually like to have a house-elf working for her?”
Ginny’s pinched her lower lip, her expression pensive. “Maybe. I don’t really know....”
“I’m pretty sure she would,” said Harry. “Ron told me once that your mum had sometimes wished she had a house-elf.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Of course Ron would say that! He’s always wanted one so he wouldn’t have to do so many chores. ... But still, mum might like having some extra help around - especially when the whole family is at home. I could ask her I suppose.”
“Right! That’s decided then,” Harry grinned. “I’ll tell Dobby to ask Winky, and you can ask your mum.”
“Great,” said Dora, smirking, “If that’s it for now, then maybe it’s time for us to catch a few winks...”
It didn’t take long to find rooms for everyone. Ginny and Luna took the room which Ginny had shared with Hermione the previous summer. Parvati was offered a room of her own, but feeling a bit creeped out in Number Twelve - which still had an air of foreboding despite the thorough purging of Dark artifacts - she opted to share a room with Dora.
And Hermione was more than happy to settle in the room with Harry which he and Ron had shared the previous summer, and thankful that Harry’s four-poster bed was big enough for the two of them. As they began to get ready for bed, Harry glanced at the wall above the fireplace, his eyes narrowing.
“Hang on Hermione,” he muttered, just as she was about to trade her t-shirt and jeans for a nightie. “I’ve just got to take care of one thing first.”
“Oh!” Hermione gasped, her eyes wide with shock when she realised what she had just been about to do. She watched Harry climb on a chair to lift the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black off the wall.
“Wait! Stop! Put me down, Potter!” barked the surly portrait of Sirius’s ancestor. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“A bit of privacy,” Harry retorted.
“What? But I would never...” said Phineas Nigellus in a wounded tone.
“Right! And I’m just going to make sure you don’t,” Harry shot back. “You’re going in the hallway for now. Don’t worry - I’ll have Kreacher or Dobby find a more suitable place for you tomorrow, perhaps the library.”
“I suppose - if you must,” Phineas Nigellus replied sourly. “Just be careful not to... ow! ... Watch the doorframe, Potter!”
“Sorry!” said Harry as he leaned the large portrait against the wall in the hallway. “G’night Headmaster Black!”
Harry shut the door, unable to help letting out a little chuckle; he was still annoyed with Phineas Nigellus for taunting him the Christmas before last.
“Thank you, Harry,” said Hermione, the relief in her voice unmistakable.
“No problem, Hermione! ... Just thought you’d rather not give Phineas Nigellus an eyeful.”
Finally, after changing and cleaning their teeth, Harry lay in bed under the covers with Hermione snuggled against him, an arm across his chest and her bushy head on his shoulder. Pleasant thoughts drifted through Harry’s mind.
Another horcrux down, only two more to go, and he was feeling more optimistic about eventually ridding himself of the piece of Voldemort within than he had been earlier that evening while his scar was still on fire. And somehow, with Hermione beside him, the reminder of Sirius’s death all around him wasn’t quite so painful - and Number Twelve was beginning to feel more like home.
Hermione sighed contentedly, peace washing over her, happy to sense Harry finally relaxing after such an eventful evening...
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Damaged Bridges