HP: Redemption of The Platinum Boy

Chapter 16: Dobby the House‑Elf

A/N:

Hello everyone! Some feedback would really mean a lot. I'm trying to keep the writing clean and avoid overly long monologues. I'm assuming that if you're reading this, you're already somewhat familiar with Harry Potter, so I'm not going too heavy on descriptions and background details.

That said, let me know—would you like more detail in future chapters? Comments, reviews, and power stones would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter Sixteen: Dobby the House-Elf + Side Story Three: The Detestable Dobby (Lucius's Perspective)

Abraxas was wrong about one thing: the Dark Lord wouldn't stay alive forever; he was always thinking about making a comeback.

But Draco had to admit, experience counts. His grandfather's other assessments of the Dark Lord seemed remarkably close to the truth.

After all, my grandfather has always been very knowledgeable about the Dark Arts. An interest in mysticism, alchemy, and Dark magic is probably a family tradition among the Malfoys.

Recalling the Dark Lord's various behaviors and actions, he indeed fits the characteristics of soul-splitting and Horcrux creation very well—unpredictable, lacking in judgment, and increasingly deviating from human form... This is exactly the Dark Lord that Draco once faced!

Draco paced back and forth in his library, pondering a possibility—that a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul might reside within Ravenclaw's diadem.

That's why, with the great battle imminent, Potter had been busy going to the Room of Requirement to find that damned diadem.

"Potter might want to destroy that diadem, to eliminate the Dark Lord's Horcrux!" Draco speculated.

Assuming his suspicions were correct, the diadem had to be destroyed. Otherwise, the Dark Lord might not truly be vanquished and could even return time and again. Draco frowned at the thought.

As for why the Dark Lord's soul could possess Quirrell—a living wizard—his grandfather's words had not provided a reasonable explanation.

Perhaps this is an even darker magic that even Grandfather didn't know about.

Draco needed to investigate further. Fortunately, the Malfoy family library contained countless magical tomes, enough to allow any wizard obsessed with the Dark Arts to escape the world's distractions and immerse themselves in forbidden knowledge.

This library was vast, with a rich collection of books—some were even unique copies passed down through the Malfoy family over the centuries, volumes that even the Hogwarts library didn't possess.

Not to mention, one of Lucius's particular hobbies was adding more obscure and unusual ancient texts to his home library, acquired through certain "special channels"—most came from fallen magical families, or even from the families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

These families, with their ancient traditions, each possessed unique heritages and secrets. It would be a great pity for them to simply vanish and be lost, so the Malfoys were always keen to preserve them.

Draco felt both gratified and troubled when faced with the enormous library.

Investigating such a voluminous collection was clearly beyond Draco's capabilities alone. He spent the entire morning searching without success and finally snapped his fingers in frustration.

Dobby, the house-elf, appeared before him, wearing a tattered, filthy pillowcase and blinking his large, protruding green eyes. He bowed low and said in a high-pitched voice, "My esteemed master, what can Dobby do for you?"

To Draco's surprise, it was Dobby who answered his summons. The sight stirred up complex and unforgettable memories, because this elf's image had been appearing and disappearing throughout Draco's indelible past.

Given its current wretched and miserable state, no one would imagine that it would develop a life-and-death friendship with the "Savior Potter." Draco stared at it, his expression unreadable.

The Malfoy Manor had many house-elves, not just Dobby. But Draco had a particularly strong impression of this particular elf.

He remembered that in his previous timeline, Dobby had betrayed the Malfoys at the end of his second year. Most house-elves were proud to serve a wizarding family, but Dobby was unwilling to accept this "honor," preferring freedom and desperately eager to receive clothes.

For many years afterward, no one knew where it was or what it did. Father never mentioned it, as if it were too shameful to discuss.

When they encountered Dobby again, he was no longer the same. He was no longer the slovenly and miserable creature he once was. Instead, he wore a strange mismatched outfit and had led Potter and the others to escape from Malfoy Manor. He had clearly become a loyal follower of Potter.

Draco observed him carefully, his mind racing through calculations—how to handle Dobby was a significant problem.

Dobby had served the Malfoys for many years, and simply giving him clothes and freeing him was not the best solution for the family.

Such a departure could expose years of Malfoy family secrets, and anyone could use it to their advantage, stabbing the Malfoys in the back.

Merlin be praised, in the previous timeline it had only come to Malfoy Manor to rescue people and hadn't done anything else terrible or treacherous—that was already a stroke of luck amidst misfortune.

However, no one could guarantee that in the years to come, Dobby wouldn't, on a whim, use his knowledge of the Malfoys to cause trouble for his former masters.

Draco, as a true Slytherin, utterly despised unnecessary risk. In this lifetime, he would never allow Dobby the opportunity to betray the Malfoy family and add any danger to their position.

Draco knew that his father Lucius didn't get along with the little elf. This time, he wanted to manage it himself.

Father's harsh methods with house-elves were clearly ineffective and had even provoked Dobby's rebellious tendencies.

This time, Draco wanted to try a different approach: without allowing betrayal of the Malfoy family, he didn't mind giving Dobby small, limited rewards to win him over.

"Sit down," Draco decided to take a conciliatory approach. He lowered his chin and nodded toward the armchair beside him, gesturing for Dobby to sit.

"Sit—sit down?" Dobby burst into tears at the unprecedented kindness, startling Draco. "Never…never…"

"Master has never made Dobby sit down—as an equal—" He seemed deeply moved and suddenly let out a loud sob.

Draco tried his best to make a soothing expression while shushing him and gesturing to the chair.

Dobby sat hesitantly on the edge of the seat, not even daring to lean back. He looked like an ugly, oversized doll, his two bat-like ears drooping anxiously, his enormous eyes brimming with tears as he looked at Draco, still muttering and sobbing.

Draco felt strong distaste rising within him. How could such a noisy, overreacting, and tactless house-elf exist? He took a deep breath, silently reminding himself that this wasn't the time to show his dislike, and tried his best to maintain a kind and friendly expression.

"Dobby, I've asked you here because I hope you can help me," Draco said, forcing gentleness into his voice.

"Help!" Dobby was deeply moved by the gentle tone and let out another loud squeal. "Dobby will do anything for his masters! But the young master said help!" He wiped his face with a corner of his dirty, tattered pillowcase.

Good heavens, this is awful! Draco's face nearly turned green with disgust. Why is his taste in clothing so abysmal? He's a disgrace to the Malfoy name.

"Wipe your hands clean. I need you to find all the books about Horcruxes for me," Draco quickly commanded while Dobby was calming down.

"Horcrux books... The young master's order... Dobby will find them!" Dobby's expression showed panic, trembling at the mention of such Dark magic. But at this moment, no evil word could affect him as much as the unprecedented kindness his master had shown, so he patted his chest and made a solemn promise.

"This will remain a secret. Don't let anyone else know about this," Draco commanded.

Dobby nodded obediently, and soon he was nimbly leaping and bounding around the library, quickly scanning through volumes.

"What are you doing, Draco?" Just then, Lucius pushed the door open and froze at the sight. He quickly looked affronted.

He never imagined that a house-elf like Dobby would appear in his magnificent library.

"Look at its filthy, wretched appearance!" Lucius's expression was one of disgust, as if someone had placed Flobberworm mucus under his nose. "Why isn't this house-elf where it should be?"

"Father, I asked him to help. I'm having some difficulty with my studies, and Dobby is looking up some materials for me," Draco explained, standing.

Dobby picked up a large tome mid-search, blinked his enormous round eyes, and nodded timidly at Lucius. His large ears flapped as he nodded.

"I didn't know you could read," Lucius said, slightly surprised, giving Dobby a haughty look. "Don't soil or damage the books."

Lucius was about to leave when he seemed to remember something, narrowed his eyes, and threatened Dobby, "You slovenly creature, serve Draco properly! If you dare make any mistakes, you know what will happen."

The house-elf nodded anxiously. He watched Lucius's departing figure and whimpered softly, as if recalling some painful memory.

"No offense, Dobby, but you should change your attire," Draco said with distaste; Lucius's "slovenly" comment had really struck home.

Dobby's clothing was completely out of place in the Malfoy household. Narcissa's other house-elves were all dressed beautifully and impeccably.

House-elves as bedraggled and haphazardly dressed as Dobby were rare—no wonder Lucius hadn't given him a friendly look the moment he saw him.

"Master cares about Dobby!" A book in Dobby's hands fell to the floor with a loud thud, eliciting genuine concern from Draco.

"Bad Dobby! Dobby dropped the books!" Dobby frantically began slamming his head against the bookshelf, but this did little to alleviate Draco's worry over the books. Instead, he was very concerned about the volumes on the bookshelf that were wobbling with each impact, fearing they would be damaged.

"Stop, Dobby!" Draco shouted, exasperated.

"Thank you, young master." He ceased his self-punishment weakly and stood there panting.

"Don't damage any books. I know this research won't be completed quickly. Keep searching, and bring everything to me as soon as you find it." Draco gave him instructions, wanting to leave the study as quickly as possible to avoid Dobby making another scene or, worse, injuring himself or damaging these precious tomes.

"And one more thing." Draco tossed Dobby a Galleon, which Dobby caught in shock, his eyes widening impossibly further.

"This is your wages for working for me. Go buy yourself some new clothes—proper ones. Remember, I didn't give you any clothes; you'll have to purchase them yourself." Draco addressed Dobby, who stood there dumbfounded, then hurriedly left the study.

Draco knew that house-elves only gained freedom if their masters gave them clothing.

He had carefully circumvented that rule by "paying wages."

"Master pays Dobby wages!" Dobby stood stunned for a long moment, then suddenly screamed with excitement, tears of joy streaming down his face.

Side Story Three: The Detestable Dobby (Lucius's Perspective)

Lucius Malfoy had an innate aversion to anything overly emotional.

His most despised house-elf was Dobby. Dobby was perpetually dirty, clumsy, and prone to shrieking—he was a disgrace to the Malfoy name.

In his youthful arrogance, Lucius had even considered disposing of Dobby. But out of concern for protecting the secrets of Malfoy Manor, his father had instructed Lucius that Dobby should remain at Malfoy Manor until his death.

Therefore, after Lucius became the head of the Malfoy family, Dobby was often relegated to the manor's basement to perform the most menial kitchen work.

"Never appear before us unless summoned," he had coldly commanded Dobby.

Lucius never imagined he would see Dobby in his study. That nightmarish shriek had ruined his pleasant morning.

He strode into the room and saw his son directing Dobby to search through books, apparently researching something.

Hmph! It's merely first-year magical knowledge. Instead of consulting his own father, he seeks help from a scruffy house-elf.

What foolishness. Lucius glanced at his son's platinum-blond head, gripped his serpent-headed cane tightly, and resisted the urge to tousle his hair in disapproval.

However, although Dobby was irritating, his magical power was considered above average among house-elves, which was sufficient to protect Draco.

Draco was nearly twelve years old—it was time for him to have a personal house-elf.

Though he didn't approve of his son's questionable taste, Lucius could afford this learning experience.

That evening, he summoned Dobby and gave him a disgusted look, still unable to fathom his son's peculiar preferences. "From now on, you are Draco's personal house-elf. You must be at his beck and call, do whatever he requests, and protect him until the end of your life."

Dobby, unusually, didn't cry or wail. Instead, he bowed respectfully, pressed his two large ears to the carpet, and said cheerfully, "Yes, Master."

"Swear to me. Never betray this family, obey all orders, and protect Draco Malfoy with all your might," Lucius commanded coldly.

"Dobby swears it," the little elf repeated Lucius's words timidly.

Lucius nodded in satisfaction. With a loud crack, Dobby Disapparated into the silent air.

Assigning a house-elf to Draco for practice might prove beneficial. Perhaps his son would come to realize that some house-elves weren't as amusing as they seemed; even when choosing servants, one should adhere to the principle of discernment.

Who knows—in a few days, Draco might be begging to send Dobby back. Lucius allowed himself a slight smirk at the thought as he surveyed the empty study.