Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Harry smoothed down the letter Dumbledore had sent him -after Dobby had checked it for magic. It had been clean, like the note earlier in the summer, but it was good practice anyway. Harry only had to think back to what happened to Hermione in fourth year to be grateful for the mail ward placed on him without his knowledge or consent.
It was undoubtedly Dumbledore's doing. It was the smart thing to do, but would it have killed the man to let him know? Harry might've been convinced the headmaster had only the best intentions if the ward also hadn't prevented important mail from reaching him. Harry and Gringots were deeply unhappy with that part.
Still, for now, it served a function. And the Dverger knew to use Dobby if they wanted to contact him either way.
Harry looked over at Dobby, who was sitting on the couch swinging his feet and trying to whistle.
He'd had no success so far.
Dobby raised his eyebrows in response and Harry handed over the letter. The little elf read it through twice before humming in contemplation. "Seems to Dobby that headmaster Dumbles is still punishing Harry Potter for his independence."
"Yeah?" Harry asked nervously.
He'd waited until a week after his birthday before contacting Dumbledore about going to Diagon Alley and asking if he could come to Hogwarts early. That seemed like a reasonable timeframe to ask for a teenager dieing to escape his hell while also trying hard to be mature. He hoped. He sighed and massaged his temples.
It was a delicate balance. He was supposed to be both angry and naive. Believing in Dumbledore's mournful narrative about how he basically abandoned Harry to the Dursley's abuse and -despite his godfather's death- still looking up to the wise, old professor. So moody, brooding, somewhat resentful teenager: yes. Having matured a bit and taking his education more serious: yes. Taking the war more seriously: as long as he followed Dumbledore's lead, wasn't too critical, wasn't too independent.
And yet, as a teenager he was expected to rebel.
Harry groaned and pressed his forehead to the cool surface of the table.
At least he had two house elves eager to help. Even Dobby as a vallet had centuries of experience observing -and gossiping about- all the teenage antics Wizards in a variety of situations could get up to. They'd sat together and crafted his persona with care. It helped, not having to do this on his own. Being able to lean on centuries of knowledge and having access to an outsider's perspective.
Still, all this double think was giving him a headache. Soon he would be crazier than Moody.
Spying might seem cool, but he was not cut out for this.
"But nothing more?" Harry asked his friend.
The headmaster had taken a whole week to reply, which they'd expected. His suggestion that Harry hire Dobby to do his school shopping for him has come as a surprise. It might've simply been a pointed dig, or it could be a test.
Dobby held up one hand. "Harry Potter is locked up all summer." He held up the other. "Harry Potter is dieing to go outside. Dumbles knows, so: punishment. The rest..." Dobby shrugged.
Punishment was good. It meant that the headmaster believed Harry's fiction and that he was also trying to adjust Harry's behaviour without Harry truly realising. He could live with that kind of subtlety.
He could only hope that the headmaster kept his distance, though, because he didn't know how well his mask would hold up to acute stressors. Based on historical evidence, he'd probably see the man at the end of the year. Maybe at Christmas. He could handle that.
"Take some money from my school vault to do the shopping and make sure you buy new outfits for yourself. Bright and bold should do. You can certainly pull it off." Harry had to grin briefly because his friend was shameless. "You can boast at Hogwarts how I gave you money to buy yourself clothes as repayment. Right? It wouldn't be picked up as a lie."
The elves there might be sympathetic to his cause, but they wouldn't be able to lie to the headmaster if he questioned them. Best to use the truth to sell the lie.
He briefly considered asking Winky to ask Dobby whether the wards of Hogwarts were really being updated as that had been the headmaster's excuse for not allowing Harry at the school early. He discarded that thought quickly though, because he knew Dobby would tell him as soon as he found out. Harry could only hope that they were being updated. He wanted to say that at least professor McGonagall would make sure, but then he remembered her participation in creating that obstacle course in his first year. Even after her favourite first year student had almost been flattened by a troll, she'd still gone along with Dumbledore's plans. That didn't even scratch the surface, really.
There was no reason to believe she'd have more common sense now.
Harry stood up from his chair and cracked his neck. It was time to set a fresh pot of tea. He could do it himself from his seat using magic, but stretching his legs was important and the movements of making tea were perfect for soothing his agitation.
"What kind of tea do you want, Dobby?"
"Dobby wants jasmine."
Warmth bloomed in Harry's chest and a fond smile stretched his lips. Dobby preferred earl grey in the afternoon. Harry chose Jasmine whenever he needed some comfort.
Harry might not have trustworthy adult Wix at his side, but he had his family.
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