At that moment, Dobby respectfully brought over four cups of tea, setting them carefully before everyone.
The Grangers immediately stood to thank him, which made Dobby flustered and nervous.
Just as Dobby was about to slip quietly out of the sitting room, Douglas seized the opportunity to introduce him,
"This is my butler, the house-elf Dobby—a free house-elf, mind you...
Dobby, this is my student, Hermione Granger, and her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Granger."
Dobby's ears perked up at being introduced as a free house-elf—he looked positively delighted.
Hermione stared at Dobby, then asked Douglas cautiously,
"Professor, you still haven't answered my question. Is this butler Dobby the same Dobby Harry met...?"
Douglas noticed this was Hermione's first time meeting a house-elf. But since he'd used the word "hired," and Dobby was now dressed in a well-tailored suit rather than his old tailcoat, Hermione showed no hint of her usual aversion.
At the mention of Harry, Dobby grew excited,
"Yes, yes! Dobby has met Harry Potter before—Dobby warned him that Hogwarts was dangerous..."
Before Dobby could finish, Douglas caught the uneasy look on the Grangers' faces and quickly cut in,
"Ahem—Dobby was once the Malfoy family's house-elf, but Mr. Malfoy released him for certain reasons. By the way, what brings you here today?"
Hermione picked up Douglas's cue immediately.
"Professor, we're going on holiday to France next week. My parents wanted to know if you'd like to come along?"
The Grangers nodded earnestly,
"Please don't worry about the cost, Professor—we'll take care of everything. Our daughter says you've always looked after her at school, and even made her class representative. We really don't know how to thank you.
Hermione mentioned you won't be teaching next term for some reason, which is such a shame. So we wanted to take this chance to invite you abroad for a bit of a break..."
Dobby blinked thoughtfully from the sidelines. He suddenly remembered overhearing, back at the Malfoys', that his boss's job was cursed—anyone who held it for more than a year was bound to run into trouble. Should he try to stop such a good master from going back to Hogwarts...?
Douglas only smiled,
"No need to worry—I'll still be Miss Granger's professor next term..."
The Grangers exchanged puzzled glances.
Hermione was about to explain, but Douglas stopped her with a look. After a year as Defence Against the Dark Arts class representative, she'd learned to read Douglas's moods perfectly.
She wasn't like Ron and Harry, those two dunderheads who'd managed to double their summer homework.
So she quickly changed the subject,
"Professor, will you have time during the summer holidays?"
Douglas raised an eyebrow,
"I'll be home most of the summer, working on my writing. Why do you ask?"
Hermione glanced at her parents, then said,
"I was hoping I could visit you later in the summer, Professor—to ask you some questions about my studies..."
Mrs. Granger chimed in,
"Or if there's any housework you need help with, little Hermione can lend a hand..."
Dobby interjected with great seriousness,
"No, that's all Dobby's work... Dobby already has so little to do—Miss Granger can't take my chores..."
Hermione quickly tugged her mother's sleeve and whispered,
"Even if you don't need me, Professor could do everything with a single spell..."
The Grangers looked a little embarrassed.
Douglas smiled at their discomfort,
"It's fine. If you want to come by, you're always welcome. But just so you know, I can't offer accommodation..."
Mr. Granger perked up,
"That's no problem at all! I can drive her back and forth every day."
Douglas laughed,
"No need for that. It's not exactly a short drive. Dobby will see to her transport. We'll sort out the details later."
The Grangers nodded gratefully, then stood and, a bit hesitantly, extended a hand to Dobby,
"Then we'll be counting on you, Mr. Dobby."
They'd reached out to non-human magical beings before—last time at Gringotts, to the goblin who'd shown them around. The goblin had politely declined, but the sense of disdain was unmistakable.
They expected to be rebuffed again, but to their surprise, Dobby's eyes shone with excitement as he turned to Douglas,
"May Dobby? Can Dobby shake hands too?"
Douglas put on an exaggerated expression,
"Of course you can! A free house-elf can do as he pleases!"
Dobby wiped his hands nervously on his suit, then carefully shook Mr. Granger's hand.
Mr. Granger felt a rough, twig-like hand trembling in his own.
Just then, Wangcai, who'd been trying to sneak back to the money pot from atop the cabinet while no one was watching, lost his grip on the shiny box lid and tumbled straight to the floor.
Everyone's attention snapped to the scene.
Wangcai, now sprawled on the carpet, immediately checked his pockets to make sure nothing had fallen out. Then, dragging the box lid, he scurried back to the money pot under everyone's amused gaze.
The room burst into laughter.
At last, Hermione shared some news with Douglas,
"Professor, Harry originally wanted to visit you this summer too, but as you know, his aunt's family doesn't like wizards.
To make sure he gets his guardian's signature for Hogsmeade visits next term, Harry has to spend the whole summer acting like the perfect, well-behaved Muggle child..."
Dobby blinked at this news.
Douglas noticed and said,
"Dobby, your job right now is to finish your career development plan. Once you're done, I'll let you visit Harry—but no sneaking off on your own, understand?"
At the mention of the career plan, Dobby's ears drooped, but he still replied earnestly,
"Yes, Boss!"
—
A few streets away from Rose Street, at No. 4 Privet Drive, in a small attic bedroom...
The famous Harry Potter lay sprawled on his bed, bored out of his mind, listening carefully for any movement from the Dursleys downstairs.
The moment he'd returned home, Uncle Vernon had locked away all his magical books, his wand, cauldron, and broomstick, and forbidden him from speaking to the neighbors.
Harry endured it all for the sake of a single signature—the permission slip for Hogsmeade.
Inside, though, he was anxious. He and Ron had twice as much homework as anyone else, and he still had no idea what had happened to the basilisk in the Chamber.
He planned to keep up the model behavior for a few days. Once the Dursleys' guard dropped, he'd try to sneak his textbooks back—he didn't want to risk being expelled for not handing in homework.
He'd already decided: the Defence Against the Dark Arts essay could wait until last. There'd be a new professor next year, and they hardly ever checked the previous year's assignments.
Then, if he could, he'd sneak over to Professor Holmes's house to see if he was back and get some news.
Time slipped by—day after day, night after night.
Two weeks passed in a blur.
During this time, Douglas had Dobby subscribe to the Daily Prophet, since he couldn't remember exactly when Sirius Black would escape from Azkaban. He couldn't exactly stake out the prison, so he had to keep an eye on whatever the Ministry announced in the paper.
He also let a few friends know that Dobby was now his butler, so they could send mail directly to Dobby in the future.
Last week, when Percy called Douglas from a public phone near his house, he said that Mr. Weasley had been delighted for days after hearing the news—and had wasted no time spreading the story throughout the wizarding world about the Malfoy family losing their house-elf.
After a good rest, Douglas finally overcame his laziness and got back to writing.
He sifted through hundreds of emails from his Muggle editor, and among them found messages from Bill and Charlie from last year.
When Douglas tried calling his houses in Egypt and Romania, no one picked up. He could only leave a message and hope they'd get back to him.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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