Chapter 250: Free Dobby
Sirius felt like a failure because of his best friend's death.
He had once thought about ending it all, but the torment of Azkaban convinced him that perhaps living on, punishing himself with guilt and memories, was the greatest atonement.
By accident, he had been acquitted.
But even now, a single thought haunted him: to die and accompany James.
The hardest thing in the world is to reconcile with yourself.
Dumbledore had seen this clearly. "He looks like his father, but his eyes—"
Sirius had cut him off. He didn't need to hear the rest. For Sirius, Harry was another James.
In his eyes now, Harry was everything.
He had already gone nearly mad once when he learned that in Harry's very first school year, one of his teachers had been a servant of Voldemort, carrying a fragment of Voldemort's soul.
Unbeknownst to Harry, Sirius had been directing every curse he could imagine toward Dumbledore in his private rage.
And now, it seemed, it was happening again.
Sirius forced himself to smile through sunken cheeks, suppressing his anger.
"Harry, we'll be going to Arthur's house soon. I'll come pick you up later."
Ron and Draco both looked at him in shock.
Harry didn't know, but they did: Sirius had been desperate to take Harry away the last time he stayed with Ron's family. For him to change his mind now was astonishing.
Draco, however, was delighted. It meant that while Harry stayed, he would also get to spend more time with Arthur Weasley, whom he secretly admired.
That was rare. The only reason Lucius had ever allowed him to visit Sirius was because he mistakenly thought Draco would be under Sirius's strict influence. If it were the Weasleys, Lucius would never have agreed.
Draco didn't realize that if not for the sudden reappearance of the teenage version of Voldemort, his father wouldn't even have permitted him to go near Sirius's house at all.
To Lucius, too much contact with Harry and Ron could only lead Draco astray.
"Can I leave now?" Harry asked eagerly. The good news pushed aside his doubts about Sirius's odd behavior.
"Yes. Kreacher, you'll stay at the Weasley house and obey any order Harry gives you. Any order," Sirius emphasized.
"Kreacher can only agree," the elf said sourly. "Though Kreacher despises staying in the house of a traitor with dirty blood, Kreacher will obey the friend of the young master, Harry Potter."
In his eyes, though, it was still Draco's friendship with Harry that justified his obedience.
"Brilliant, Harry! We'll be living together!" Ron cheered.
"Come off it, Ron, you already share a room with him," Draco scoffed. "Unlike me. I'm stuck with Goyle and Crabbe. You don't know how lucky you are."
Then came the happiest moment of Harry's life.
Sirius led him into the Dursleys' house. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia trembled, forcing themselves to act polite.
When they realized Sirius wasn't here to punish them, but to take Harry away, they fumbled through false farewells.
"Ahaha, no, I mean—Harry, we'll miss you terribly, come back next term," Vernon stammered.
"Take care of Dudley at Hogwarts," Petunia added quickly.
Dudley just stood on the carpet in shock, staring. Harry noticed Petunia's twitching eye—he knew he'd be made to scrub that rug later, especially after Kreacher and Dobby had stood on it, looking utterly out of place in her pristine home.
"Wouldn't Harry be back the day after tomorrow?" Draco said slyly.
"The—day after tomorrow—yes, yes, he can come back then. Petunia and I can't bear to part with him," Vernon blurted.
"Oops, I remembered wrong." Draco smirked. "Next term."
Vernon's fake laughter died. He realized then that Draco Malfoy was every bit as sharp and mischievous as Dudley had once been.
Fortunately, Sirius returned with Harry's luggage. Dobby tried to help, but his eyes kept straying to Draco, waiting for permission that never came. Kreacher just stared at the carpet, pretending he didn't exist.
When the goodbyes ended, Harry stepped out into the fresh air, his heart lighter than it had been in years.
But Draco stopped Dobby before they left.
"Dobby, I think you need something—clothes."
"Little master, what do you mean to give me?" Dobby stammered, trembling.
"Draco! Are you mad? You can't just give up an elf!" Ron shouted, stunned. To him, owning an elf was a dream.
"Kreacher's ears must be failing," Kreacher muttered, tugging at his bat-like ears, while glaring at Draco.
Even Sirius, who had been lost in grief, paused. For the first time, he saw that Draco was nothing like a Malfoy at all. He had assumed Draco's friendship with Harry was a shallow ploy. Now he saw something genuine.
"No, Ron. If my father knew what Dobby had done, Dobby would already be dead." Draco's voice softened. "Don't be afraid, Dobby. This is for Harry Potter's sake."
"Dobby is different," Draco continued. "He wants to be free."
With that, he pulled off a sock and held it out. "Here. The thing you always wanted."
The elf's eyes went wide. "The little master is different... as kind as Harry Potter."
Dobby took the sock reverently, trembling.
"Dobby... Dobby is free!"
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