The Elf's Last Will
Everyone stared at the last explosion, caused by thousands of house-elves. The spectacle had proven two things: first, that house-elves were no joke—they were truly powerful, especially when united. And second, that they were willing to do anything to protect their own kind, even create laws to ensure that no one ever discovered what they were capable of if they transformed into something like this.
It had to be said: elves were powerful, yes… but so had goblins been, and still they had fought several wars against wizards. The result? The goblins lost. Surely the elves didn't want to end up the same.
Plaf.
Harry collapsed onto his back, exhausted. His body burned with the lingering poison of potions, he was covered in dust, and his hair was a mess—just like the others. In truth, none of them were gravely hurt; just filthy and drained.
The only one truly injured was Luciel, who still held Katerina in his arms. She stared sadly at the place where Kre had vanished, clinging to the memory of the elf who had once served her.
The elves, as if finishing their task, began snapping their fingers. In seconds the surroundings started to clean themselves. The castle rebuilt on its own, as if time were rewinding: broken walls reassembled, windows rose intact, furniture slid back into place. As if nothing had happened.
Daphne, watching the scene with interest, suddenly brought a hand to her mouth, thoughtful.
"It was the elf!" she exclaimed abruptly.
Draco, arms crossed, raised an eyebrow in mild confusion. Hermione, who was laying the little elf-girl on the ground and checking that she was merely breathing as if asleep, looked up at her.
Katerina, Luciel, and Neville glanced at one another, utterly lost.
Harry, resting with his eyes closed, snapped them open. At the same time, Draco and Hermione reacted too, as if struck by the same realization. They all fixed their gaze on Daphne.
"What!?" the three of them nearly shouted in unison.
"It. Was. The. Elf. I win." Daphne dragged out each word with shameless triumph, grinning as if she were the champion of the world.
"Wait, what? No, hold on, that doesn't count," Hermione protested quickly.
"Obviously we all realized it was the elf when we fought it. Are you stupid?" Draco shot back smugly. "Why would you win?" he added, clearly irritated by how things ended—and by his own competitiveness that wouldn't let him accept it.
Harry didn't even bother to open his mouth.
"The rule was, whoever said who the culprit was first won. It's the elf, and I said it first!" Daphne declared, crossing her arms and nodding proudly. Then she pointed to herself with both hands. "So that makes me the winner and the best witch in the group."
"That's not fair! We all knew it was the elf," Hermione protested.
"But you didn't say it, did you?" Daphne replied calmly, staring her down.
Hermione clamped her mouth shut at once, without an argument.
Draco pressed his fingers to his forehead in frustration. Harry chose to close his eyes again and keep resting.
The three of them exchanged looks, then glanced at Daphne—who already seemed ready to toss imaginary confetti with her triumphant smile. Katerina and Luciel looked at each other, incredulous that these young people who had just risked their lives to save the school could act this way, like children playing a game. Neville, meanwhile, only looked on in confusion.
"Hahahaha! I'm the most powerful witch in the world!" Daphne declared with exaggerated pride, hands on her hips like an empress, completely drunk on her victory.
The elves of each student stepped closer to their masters. The rest, having finished repairing everything, simply disappeared—as if nothing had happened.
"Lady Daphne," Laki said serenely, "aside from protecting you, your mother asked me to remind you that you'll be punished during the holidays for using dangerous magic on young Potter. If it had gone wrong, it could have caused a very big problem."
Daphne froze.
Harry cracked one eye open and smirked at her. "Told you I'd get my revenge. But my mother taught me not to mistreat girls." Then he closed his eye again, unbothered.
Draco and Hermione also glanced at her with faint amusement.
"Ugh…" Daphne groaned before collapsing to the floor with as much dramatic flair as possible.
"They get along quite well," Katerina murmured, watching the four chaotic young people who, just moments ago, had looked like mature heroes—and now behaved like children.
"Yes. They're fun," Luciel replied with a small smile.
Neville watched them in silence. Deep down, he wished to be part of them someday: to laugh with them, to sit at their side. But first, he knew he had to work hard. To him, those four were the best student wizards he knew. They treated him kindly, they were friendly… but he still felt too shy. He promised himself he would grow stronger and one day joke and laugh with them with pride.
"Mmm?"
A soft little voice drew everyone's attention. The small elf-girl opened her eyes slowly. She had long ears, huge shining eyes, and wore a little princess dress that made her look even smaller.
"Daddy?" she asked timidly.
No one knew what to say. Silence took over as she looked around, nervous at so many strangers. Katerina wanted to speak, but guilt held her back.
Hermione, instead, stepped forward and knelt slightly to meet her.
"Uh… well… your dad is kind of busy right now. He…" Hermione searched for words, trying to sound reassuring.
The elf-girl stared at her with wide eyes for a moment.
"Are you Pipi's mistress?" she asked suddenly.
"What?" Hermione blinked, confused.
"My mistress. Daddy said he would find a good mistress for Pipi. Are you Pipi's mistress?" the little one repeated softly, as if she felt an invisible bond with her.
Hermione glanced around for help. The elves nearby watched calmly, as if waiting for her response. And the most surprising thing was that they seemed satisfied to see her kneeling in front of the little one, as if they thought: It's only natural for the friend of their masters.
"Gris," Harry said simply, without bothering to get up.
"That's right. Miss Granger, you were the closest when the high elf created a sort of binding contract. Technically, you are now the mistress of the little one. I suppose it was the last thing he could do to make sure she would be safe. Most likely, he saw in you a good mistress, since you protected her," explained Gris, the Potter family's elf, while Liz, the elf of the same family, nodded silently.
Laki, the elf of the Greengrass family, also nodded. Dobby, on the other hand, seemed distracted, while the Malfoy family's elf was only worried about checking Draco over and over, even though Draco had already told him for the tenth time that he was perfectly fine.
Hermione looked at the little elf-girl in surprise, then turned her gaze toward Katerina. Katerina gave her a gentle smile.
"When I came out, I only thought about my life and Luciel's. You worried about her. I would never be a good mistress," Katerina admitted sincerely.
Hermione turned back to the little one, who had just lost her father. The elf-girl's big eyes trembled as she repeated softly:
"Are you Pipi's mistress?" This time, her voice carried the fear of being rejected.
"It seems so," Hermione replied with a slightly forced smile.
"You won't hit Pipi?" the child asked immediately.
"No," Hermione answered quickly.
The elf-girl smiled happily. "Daddy found a good mistress for Pipi!" she exclaimed with relief.
Hermione didn't know what to do, but Gris stepped forward, the experienced elf that he was.
"Do not worry, miss. We will take Pipi to your parents and explain the matter. The school does not allow students to have personal servants, as it provides them properly. So we will take her now."
"Thank you, Gris," Hermione said gratefully.
Little Pipi gazed at her with tenderness until she disappeared along with the other elves.
"Hahahahaha!" Suddenly Daphne burst out laughing, drawing everyone's attention.
"What are you laughing at now?" Draco asked, frowning.
"I wonder what kind of legendary creature our classmates at the other schools are fighting," Daphne said, still laughing. She kept up her joke that if Hogwarts—the "safest school in the world"—was this dangerous, then Beauxbatons must be worse. What had just happened only reinforced her point.
"Normally the school is quite calm…" Luciel murmured, but the others ignored him. On the contrary, their eyes widened as if they had just realized the true horror: if at Beauxbatons they were already facing things like this, how terrifying would the challenges at the other academies be?
Harry pushed himself up slightly, leaning on the floor with seriousness. "It's true… but did you realize the real danger now?"
Everyone looked at him in silence.
"Which one?" Hermione asked.
"We're only halfway through the school year," Harry replied in an ominous tone.
"And so what?" Hermione didn't understand, but Daphne caught on immediately.
"Oh no!" she grabbed her head with both hands. "We'll have to face a god at the end of the school year!" she shouted in exaggeration.
Draco gave a forced smile. "I already want to go back to Hogwarts."
"We'd better stay close to Mom and not wander off until the school year ends," Harry added seriously, as if his life depended on it.
Hermione only rolled her eyes at their exaggeration, though in her mind she was already thinking about helping Aunt Wanda as an assistant, just in case.
"As I said, the school is very safe," Luciel tried to assure them. But no one listened. Even Neville looked nervous.
Luciel sighed in resignation. "Could they be traumatized? Or… maybe the danger is what follows them," he murmured, glancing at the walls that were still being repaired from the ground up. Perhaps, he thought, danger simply chased these students wherever they went.
"Oh, my wand," Harry remembered, before looking toward the battlefield where his wand still lay. He lifted his hand, and it flew straight to him.
The moment it touched his palm, everyone looked at him in alarm, as if ready to run.
"What?" Harry asked, noticing them as he slipped the wand into his pocket.
"N-nothing," they all said quickly, watching him carefully.
…
Images of the kids behaving like lunatics began to form inside a crystal sphere, in a dark office. Someone watched with an intrigued smile.
"Ah… seems it didn't work. I wanted to kill two birds with one stone, but those high elves aren't as impressive as I thought."
The figure leaned closer to the sphere, where Harry's red wand appeared. He had already taken it, while his friends had watched in fear, expecting something to happen. But nothing had.
"I found something more interesting," he murmured with a smile, running a hand across his face.
Then he froze. His expression shifted as he noticed something odd. He grabbed a nearby mirror and stared at his reflection.
Black hair, neatly combed. Charismatic eyes. The mole beneath his eye. Youth and beauty intact… except for one thing: a faint but undeniable wrinkle beginning to form at the corner of his mouth.
The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Dominic Grey, shuddered.
"I need to speed this up," he said gravely.
He lifted his gaze toward a board covered in hand-drawn sketches of beautiful women. Dozens of faces, but three stood out among the rest: Fleur, Katerina, and Wanda.