After Lucius left, Dobby hurriedly gathered up the pastry crumbs that had fallen on him and stuffed them into his mouth. Then, clutching the precious sock, he tiptoed over to Douglas, bowing deeply and reverently.
"Sir... Dobby... Dobby is so grateful to you."
Douglas poured a cup of tea and offered it kindly.
"Your throat must be dry. Have some tea to soothe it..."
At these words, tears as big as peas rolled down Dobby's cheeks. His voice trembled with emotion.
"Sir cares about Dobby... Dobby's throat isn't dry, it's... it's still very sweet..."
Before Dobby could wipe his tears with Harry's well-worn sock, Douglas quickly intervened.
"Dobby, calm down. Remember, you're a free elf now—not a slave who lives at someone else's command."
After some effort, Douglas managed to settle Dobby down and guided him firmly into a chair.
"Whatever we discuss next, I need you to stay calm and talk to me, all right? No sudden outbursts—understood, Dobby?"
Dobby sniffled and nodded, slipping the sock onto his hand like a treasured glove.
Douglas's mouth twitched at the sight, but he did his best to reason with him.
"Dobby, that's a sock—one that's already been worn. You can keep it as a keepsake, you know. And by the way, it belonged to Harry Potter."
At the mention of Harry's name, Dobby stared in disbelief at the sock.
"Harry Potter's sock... Yes, sir is right. I should hide it away... Mr. Potter is even greater than Dobby thought..."
He glanced down at his own ragged tunic, realizing there was nowhere to stash the precious item.
Douglas snapped his fingers, and a smart little satchel floated over.
"This bag is for you. You can use it to keep your own things..."
Before Dobby could burst into grateful tears again, Douglas hurried on.
"So, Dobby, now that you've left the Malfoys, do you have any plans for the future?"
Dobby hesitated, glancing nervously at Douglas.
"Dobby hopes to find a job—a job that pays wages, so Dobby can have his own clothes..."
Douglas nodded, clearly pleased.
"I have a proposal. I'm still in need of a butler at home. Would you be interested? You can name your own terms.
Of course, since I'll spend most of my time at Hogwarts, you'll have plenty of free time to travel as you wish—which should also help you avoid trouble with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
Dobby leapt off his chair, his bat-like ears flapping with excitement.
"Really? Sir is willing to give Dobby a job? Dobby doesn't need much time off.
Dobby loves to work. His requirements aren't high—one silver Sickle a week, maybe? Or, well, even ten Knuts a week would be fine. Dobby wants to buy new clothes, so it can't be less... Dobby will work very hard..."
Perhaps it was Dobby's peculiar voice that woke Wangcai, who had been napping on a pile of Galleons beneath the money pot. The little creature scurried over, gave Dobby a thorough inspection, then—apparently unimpressed—climbed up onto Douglas's shoulder.
Douglas scratched Wangcai's belly and grinned at Dobby.
"Don't worry about wages. I'll pay you ten Galleons a week. Don't be so quick to refuse—it's just the base salary.
If you help with my magical research, you'll get additional bonuses.
As for time off, you'll have two days of rest each week. I can't always guarantee which days, but you can save up your days off and take a longer holiday when you want. While you're on holiday, I'll pay you five Galleons per week.
One more thing—my standards are a bit high. You'll need to change your clothes, and I'll provide them. In your free time, you'll be expected to learn new skills—new recipes, how to use Muggle items, and even some special magic.
And, of course, you'll need to look after Wangcai..."
As he spoke, Douglas produced a contract he'd prepared in advance and placed it before the now speechless Dobby.
"Have a look at the contract first, then decide if you want to accept my offer."
Dobby picked up the contract but didn't read it. Instead, he immediately tried to bargain, insisting that Douglas was offering far too much money and far too many holidays. After some back-and-forth, Douglas stood firm on his original terms.
"Dobby, you're a free house-elf now. You'll need to look after yourself, maybe even start a family one day—saving a bit more is a good thing.
As for your holidays, you can use them to visit friends, or travel and bring back souvenirs..."
Dobby was so overwhelmed that tears and snot streamed down his face as he muttered the word "friends" over and over.
When he finally picked up the contract, Douglas couldn't help but worry he'd use it to blow his nose.
Dobby carried the contract to Douglas's desk and asked, in a tiny voice,
"Sir, may I use your quill?"
Douglas nodded, but reminded him,
"Don't you want to read the contract first?"
Dobby quickly signed his name, then used a flick of magic to float the contract and quill back to Douglas, waiting respectfully for his signature.
Douglas signed, then used a Copying Charm to make two copies. He cast protective spells on both, not because he distrusted Dobby, but to ensure the contract would hold up if Dobby ever had to show it to the authorities from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Dobby carefully tucked his copy into the satchel Douglas had given him.
"Sir..."
Douglas cut him off with a smile.
"From now on, call me 'boss.'"
A radiant smile broke across Dobby's face, fresh tears of joy welling up in his eyes.
"Boss, may I start cleaning the room now?"
Douglas waved a hand.
"First, you need to take a bath and change into clean clothes.
You'll have to make do with some of my own clothes, magically altered for now. Later, if you like, I hope you'll learn some tailoring and make your own outfits..."
Dobby's mouth trembled.
"Boss, is... is that really allowed?"
Finally, at Douglas's gentle insistence, Dobby used the private bathroom. Douglas found a custom-made Muggle tailcoat, altered it with magic, and helped Dobby put it on.
It still looked a bit odd—perhaps Dobby was just too thin—but it was certainly an improvement over the usual Hogwarts house-elf attire.
For now, Dobby was the only house-elf at Hogwarts with a proper set of clothes.
At last, Douglas handed Dobby a copy of The Butler's Guide to Self-Cultivation.
"For now, you don't need to do anything but get to know your new profession. And not just by reading—you'll also need to write a career development plan for your future..."
Hearing this, Dobby forgot all about being moved. He stared at Douglas, utterly dumbfounded.
Perched on Douglas's shoulder, Wangcai took one look at Dobby's stunned expression and promptly doubled over, clutching his belly and howling with laughter.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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