Sea, marking the edge of the flower beds. He picked up one of the largest and laid it,

pillowlike, over the place where Dobby’s head now rested. He then felt in his pocket for

A wand. There were two in there. He had forgotten, lost track; he could not now

Remember whose wands these were; he seemed to remember wrenching them out of

someone’s hand. He selected the shorter of the two, which felt friendlier in his hand, and

Pointed it at the rock.

Slowly, under his murmured instruction, deep cuts appeared upon the rock’s

Surface. He knew that Hermione could have done it more neatly, and probably more

Quickly, but he wanted to mark the spot as he had wanted to dig the grave. When Harry

stood up again, the stone read: HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF.

He looked at his handiwork for a few more seconds, then walked away, his scar

Still prickling a little, and his mind full of those things that had come to him in the grave,

Ideas that had taken shape in the darkness, ideas both fascinating and terrible.

They were all sitting in the living room when he entered the little hall, their

Attention focused upon Bill, who was talking. The room was light-colored, pretty, with a

Small fire of driftwood burning brightly in the fireplace. Harry did not want to drop mud

Upon the carpet, so he stood in the doorway, listening.

“…lucky that Ginny’s on holiday. If she’d been at Hogwarts they could have

taken her before we reached her. Now we know she’s safe too.” He looked around and

saw Harry standing there. “I’ve been getting them all out of the Burrow,” he explained.

“Moved them to Muriel’s. The Death Eaters know Ron’s with you now, they’re bound to

target the family –don’t apologize,” he added at the sight of Harry’s expression. “It was

always a matter of time, Dad’s been saying so for months. We’re the biggest blood

traitor family there is.”

“How are they protected?” asked Harry. “Fidelius Charm. Dad’s Secret-Keeper.

And we’ve done it on this cottage too; I’m Secret-Keeper here. None of us can go to

work, but that’s hardly the most important thing now. Once Ollivander and Griphook are

well enough, we’ll move them to Muriel’s too. There isn’t much room here, but she’s got

plenty. Griphook’s legs are on the mend. Fleur’s given him Skele-Gro-we could

probably move them in an hour or—“

“No,” Harry said and Bill looked startled. “I need both of them here. I need to

talk to them. It’s important.” He heard the authority of his own voice, the conviction, the

voice of purpose that had come to him as he dug Dobby’s grave. All of their faces were

Turned toward him looking puzzled.

“I’m going to wash,” Harry told Bill looking down at his hands still covered with

mud and Dobby’s blood. “Then I’ll need to see them, straight away.” He walked into the

Little kitchen, to the basin beneath a window overlooking the sea. Dawn was breaking

Over the horizon, shell pink and faintly gold, as he washed, again following the train of

thought that had come to him in the dark garden…

Dobby would never be able to tell them who had sent him to the cellar, but Harry

Knew what he had seen. A piercing blue eye had looked out of the mirror fragment, and

Then help had come. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 790