Chapter Thirty-Seven: Escape from Malfoy Manor

Harry stared at Dobby, his mind still reeling from the sudden appearance of the house-elf.

"Harry Potter needs to hurry, if Dobby is going to save him, sir," said the elf hurriedly. "We mustn't be taking too long—lose element of surprise!"

"We have to get to Hermione first," said Harry resolutely. "We're not leaving without her!"

"Dobby knows, sir, Dobby knows," squeaked the elf, handing Harry Wormtail's disarmed wand. "Dobby knows Miss Grangey is hurting, sir." The elf stared up at Harry, his large green eyes widening with each word spoken. "Dobby knows about Harry Potter missing his Weasey, and his anger too! But Harry Potter mustn't worry about that anymore. Harry Potter's Weasey is coming too!"

"Ron's—what," stammered Harry. But Dobby didn't stay to answer him. Instead, Dobby raced across the stone floor of the cellar toward the stairs. The elf turned at the first step so that he could face Harry again, who continued to stand rooted to the floor where Wormtail lay unconscious at his feet.

"Harry Potter must wait here for Dobby," said the elf. "Dobby will come back for Harry Potter and his friends when it is time." Before Harry could say another word, the elf vanished in a quiet pop, leaving Harry, Luna, Mr. Lovegood, Olivander, Griphook, and an unconscious Wormtail behind.

"I've always loved that house-elf," said Luna brightly. She came over to Harry and looked down at Wormtail. "He certainly wasn't very nice, was he?" She gave Harry a knowing glance. "You've met him before, haven't you, Harry? You said you saved his life? But he's a Death Eater, right? Most people wouldn't save a Death Eater. Very strange."

"His name is Peter Pettigrew," said Harry, doing his best to tune is ears for any sound from the room above. "He was a friend of my dad's in school. I haven't really got time right now to go into the details, but I stopped Sirius and Remus from killing him in my third year; he's the reason my parents are dead. Obviously, that was a mistake," he added, kicking at the unconscious lump before him. Wormtail didn't stir.

"Perhaps we should make sure he can't do anything, in case he wakes?"

Harry nodded. He took Wormtail's unfamiliar wand and conjured thick black cords of rope and bound Wormtail's hands and feet. The wand felt cold, foreign, and repulsive in his hand. He took one more sweeping look over the cellar. Olivander had not stirred much—not that Harry was surprised by this. Even if Harry had not witnessed Voldemort's heinous actions, Olivander's pale complexion and weathered appearance was evident enough of his prolonged torture. The wandmaker sat with his back leaning against the stone wall, but his eyes were sharp with focus. Harry was sure Olivander's gaze had never left him since he had arrived.

Mr. Lovegood stood behind Luna, his grip hard on her shoulders, evident by the white blotches showing on his knuckles. Luna appeared calm, unaware of her father's emotional maelstrom sweeping across his face; fear, elation, shame.

Then there was Griphook, who, Harry noticed, was also staring at him with a rather curious look. It was so uncharacteristic to see what looked like wonder and curiosity displayed so evidently on a goblin, that Harry found it deeply disconcerting. Harry turned away from them, his attention and thoughts returning to Hermione and the room above. There were no more screams. Harry's heart slammed against his chest. He hated admitting it, but her screams were at least witness to her being alive. The silence brought unwanted thoughts.

She's not dead, thought Harry. He would know. They would be happy, wouldn't they? They would be celebrating. His blood started to boil. He couldn't wait for Dobby any longer. He had a wand. It was stupid just waiting in the cellar. He turned to Luna.

"Listen, Luna, I'm going to take a peek upstairs," said Harry. "Dobby doesn't stand a chance alone up there. I'll come back for you, alright?"

"Don't be foolish, Harry," said Luna, her voice light and conversive. "You heard Dobby. Just wait."

"Look, I know Dobby," said Harry. "I know his idea of saving lives and it isn't hazard-free. Just wait here." Harry gripped the foreign wand tightly and turned on his heels. He took a step and then felt Luna's hand rest on his shoulder.

"You have to trust your friends, Harry," she said. Harry turned and met her eyes. Wormtail's wand began to shake in his now unsteady hand. Harry swallowed and nodded.

"Dobby has a plan; you could see it in his eyes, you know," said Luna brightly.

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Dobby reappeared in the Malfoy drawing room with the faintest pop; the Malfoy's and their guests were too enraptured with themselves to notice. Dobby's eyes fell upon Hermione and Bellatrix Lestrange, who straddled her victim. Dobby resisted the urge to defend the kindest woman he had ever met. It angered the elf to see the blood trickling down her forearm and the contorted expressions of pain that lined her face, as well as the tears. But Dobby waited; Harry Potter needed Dobby to succeed.

The House-Elf took in the situation quickly; he knew the manor and all its rooms by heart—how could he ever forget? He knew all its secrets. But Dobby knew the trick was to take the wands. Shivers ran up and down Dobby's spine; elves were not allowed wands. Despite his years of freedom, the ancient magic of bondage had left traces. Dobby may no longer be forced to do the Malfoy's bidding, but the undercurrents of ancient magic such as the bondage that held all the previous generations of his family was not easily over-ridden; it was difficult to resist magic that deep. To outright employ magic against his old masters in this storehouse of dark magic was against the old order. The elf's hand trembled with the pulsations of that old magic, reminding him of his proper place; beneath the witches and wizards below.

But Dobby is a free House-Elf, he reminded himself. And Harry Potter needs Dobby. Dobby will not fail Harry Potter. But Dobby must wait until Harry Potter's Weasey is here.

() () ()

There was a blinding flash of light and a very soft, yet distinct pop in his ear. When Harry opened his eyes, he was met with a face full of freckles and blazing red hair.

"Harry," said Ron disbelievingly. He was holding his wand tightly in one hand, and in the other, Harry noticed, was the Deluminator Dumbledore had left him. Ron too looked at the Deluminator with stunned disbelief. "Wicked," he said, more to himself than the room. Then, as though remembering he wasn't alone, turned his gaze to Harry with a sudden jerk.

"I've been looking for you for ages," said Ron. "I know you're probably not happy to see me, but I tried finding you. Honest, I did—er—where are we?" He said this all very fast, his face growing darker shades of red with each word that spilled.

"We can talk about it later," said Harry, caught between the strongest desires of punching Ron in the jaw, and pulling the red-head into a two-armed hug. "We're in a cellar at Malfoy Manor. We were captured."

"Blimey, looks like it," said Ron quietly. He looked from Olivander, to Luna, to the unconscious Wormtail who was bound and leaning against the wall. Then his eyes grew narrow as though noticing something missing. He turned to Harry, comprehension dawning on his face. "Where is Hermione?"

No sooner had Ron asked that the stairwell was filled with another scream. Harry watched the lingering red on Ron's face turn into souring green, then back to a furious purple. Before Ron could take a step, Harry caught him by the wrist.

"We're going to save her, Ron," said Harry. "We're just waiting for Dobby. He's checking out the room." Harry couldn't blame Ron for wanting to storm the stairs. A moment ago, he had been ready to do exactly the same thing. But in Ron's sudden appearance, those few moments of pause, and Hermione's last scream carried down the stairwell, Harry's mind had cleared. A calmness and sense of clarity he was unfamiliar with had taken root. There were significantly more wands in the upstairs room than the two between himself and Ron. Even if they had the element of surprise, they couldn't hope to escape the manor. Would Hermione even be able to move after what had happened over the last hour? And what of Luna and her father, or Olivander and Griphook? They surely would not survive if left behind. And Harry could not think of a way to get them out safely with the odds stacked so highly against them.

"We can't wait for Dobby, Harry," hissed Ron. "That's Hermione up there!"

"You think I don't know that," whispered Harry, not at all bothered to restrain his anger. "You weren't here, listening to her screams for the past hour while you were locked behind this cellar door," he added, pointing to the now open stairway. "We have two wands between us. Do you know how many wands are upstairs? We make one wrong move, Ron, and it's over. You understand that, don't you?"

Almost at once, Ron looked like he very much wanted to argue, but Harry's words must have hit their mark, for in the next moment, Ron returned a sharp nod and redoubled his grip on his wand. It was then—almost immediately following their short, heated exchange—a distinct pop echoed shortly in the cellar, right beside Harry. Dobby had Apparated again and had a wide, toothy smile that did not belong in the cellar.

"Is Harry Potter and his Weasey ready?"

Harry shared a quick glance with Ron and then nodded to Dobby. "Yeah," said Harry, his voice hollow in the absence of Hermione's screams. "But what about Luna, and the rest, Dobby? We can't possibly get everyone out! Not with so many wands upstairs."

"Dobby is being able to take them away," said the elf excitedly. "Dobby only needs to know where, Harry Potter, and Dobby will take them away before we save Miss Grangey."

"We haven't time," protested Harry. The time it took Dobby to relocate the other's might be the only time they had left.

"Dobby is being very quick," said the elf. "Dobby can take them all together!"

"Alright," said Harry, thinking quickly where he could have Dobby take them. Grimmauld was out of the question as it was no longer safe. Then, surprisingly, Ron interjected.

"Take them to Shell Cottage, Dobby," said Ron. "It's an Order hideout. My brother, Bill, will look after them." Dobby nodded his understanding, took Luna by the hand and gestured for the others to join him. Harry and Ron assisted Olivander as he struggled to remain standing under his own strength.

"Meet Dobby at the top of the stairs in two minutes time, Harry Potter." Before Harry could reply, Dobby and all of Malfoy's prisoners Disapparated.

"Right, let's go," said Harry, redoubling his grip on Pettigrew's wand. Quietly, they ascended the stone stairs and waited just below eye-level of the floor landing. Harry inched his head higher, careful to use the wall to obscure himself, while giving him just enough visibility to survey most of the room, which was off to the right of the stair landing.

He had a full, unobstructed view of Lucius and Narcissa, as well as two wizards he didn't recognize—Snatchers, he guessed—and Fenrir Greyback. He could see Hermione's bottom half, the rest of her obscured by the opposing wall of the room. He could see small movements in Hermione's legs—small, seemingly uncomfortable movements. He felt the knot in this stomach loosen slightly. Hermione was alive.

"Looks like the Muddy doesn't want to play anymore," cackled Bellatrix suddenly. Harry watched Bellatrix walk into view, her pointed black boots halting at Hermione's side, hiding what Harry could see of Hermione from view. "Perhaps Muddy has decided she would rather be in the company of the Werewolf after all?" Laughter erupted in the room. The tension that has loosened slightly upon seeing Hermione alive constricted once more, tightening unbearably. He gripped his wand tightly, gave Ron an affirmative nod, and readied himself to dive into the room. There was no time left to wait for Dobby.

Then, just as Harry had planted his foot hard on the step to propel himself forward and into the hallway, the distinct pop of Dobby's apparition echoed in the cavernous living room. Dobby had appeared at Hermione's feet, his face wrinkled in a look Harry had never seen there before: a mixture of anger and revulsion. Before any of the occupants in the room seemed to register that Dobby had appeared—or at least, were to stunned to respond—Dobby had snapped his fingers six times. With each snap, a wand had flown from each captor in the room and landed matter-of-factly into Dobby's other outstretched hand. Dobby then Disapparated with another pop and reappeared with a second pop upon the hanging chandelier above.

"Now, Harry Potter," cried the elf. Harry and Ron bolted into the room and fired a pair of stunners, taking the two Snatchers down with a crash into the mantle place, having never seen the jets of red light approaching. Slow to react, Harry and Ron were able to send a second pair of stunners into Fenrir and Lucius, knocking them out cold as their heads bounced off the hardwood floors with a thud. Narcissa wimpered and retreated as far as she could into the wall, her back hitting hard. She raised her arms in apparent surrender, but scowled in a very Petunia-ish way.

Bellatrix, on the other hand, did respond, recovering from her shock much quicker than the others. She was still armed with a knife. She dived to avoid the wand-fire and grappled Hermione by the hair, pulling the tortured witch to her knees and brought the blade to Hermione's exposed neck. Hermione still had tears streaking down her cheeks from the torture of only a few minutes ago.

"Drop your wands, boys, or little Miss Muddy bleeds on the floor," yelled Bellatrix. Her chest was heaving heavily, her eyes darting from Ron to Harry, to Dobby, who was still on the chandelier. Bellatrix pulled on Hermione's hair once more, forcing her into position as a human shield.

"Don't…listen to her…Harry…get out of here…" Hermione's voice was strained from the screaming, but her eyes met Harry's with determination. Bellatrix brought the knife closer and small dot of blood appeared at the point of the blade. Hermione grimaced and another stream of tears slid down her cheeks.

Then, there was the distinct sound of wood snapping. Bellatrix looked up to Dobby, gently swinging on the chandelier. Two pieces of a wand crashed upon the wood floor and rolled. One of the pieces came to a halt at Bellatrix's knee. She looked down, her eyes widened with fury. She looked back at the elf and screamed.

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Dobby's hands shook violently as he took up the second wand. The pain that had shot up his arms upon snapping Narcissa Malfoy's wand was nothing like the elf had ever felt. Never had his punishments brought such sharp, jagged pain into his chest. Then again, no elf had ever broken their old master's wand before. The old magic didn't like it. The dark magic of this house didn't like it.

But Dobby must do it. Dobby is making sure they isn't doing any more magic.

() () ()

"How dare you break the wand of one of your master's!"

Dobby, though, appeared not to have heard Bellatrix as he snapped a second wand. Again, he let the pieces tumble to the floor and proceeded onto the third wand.

() () ()

A second streaming pulse of pain shot into Dobby's chest. This one was much sharper than the last. Dobby had just destroyed the wand of Lucius Malfoy. His tiny elf body protested. The urge to throw himself onto the floor below and punish himself was greater than anything Dobby had known before, greater even than when he had gone to warn Harry Potter about the Chamber of Secrets. But Dobby resisted, closing his eyes and concentrating one his breathing. The beating of his heart was painful on his chest. It pushed blood into his veins as though it may never have the chance again.

() () ()

Snap.

Snap.

Snap.

Each wand broke with an eerie, reverberating snap in the chambered ceiling. Likewise, each snap seemed to—if it were possible—unhinge Bellatrix more than the last. By the time Dobby had snapped the fifth wand, Bellatrix had loosened her grip on Hermione's hair and had brought the knife into a throwing position.

Snap.

Dobby smiled as he threw the last broken wand at Bellatrix.

"You've broken my wand, elf," she screamed, forgetting Hermione all-together. In one enraged movement, Bellatrix pushed away her captive, stood, and flung the knife toward Dobby. Dobby snapped his fingers and vanished from the chandelier. In the time that Bellatrix had disregarded her prisoner, Harry hit Bellatrix with a stunner, sending her off her feet and into the wall. She fell beside her brother-in-law, leaving only Narcissa conscious and standing alone in the living room.

"Ron, tie her up," commanded Harry, jerking his head to Narcissa. "Then, find our wands, there here somewhere." Ron nodded and conjured tight, black chords that bound Narcissa, forcing her to sit with her back against the wall, on the other side of her unconscious husband. Harry then went immediately to Hermione.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione, I'm so sorry," he said, words tumbling faster than he could think of all the feeble reasons he couldn't help her sooner. Hermione had latched herself tightly to him, shaking violently.

"We must be hurrying, Harry Potter," said, Dobby, approaching him with a noticeable hobble in his usual, springy step. "Dobby doesn't know if there are others around the manor, Harry Potter sir."

"Can you stand," asked Harry gently. Hermione nodded. As slow and deliberate as he could, Harry helped Hermione to stand. He looked around for Ron.

"Here you go, mate," said Ron, handing Harry his wand. Immediately, warmth spread to his fingers as wand and master were reunited. "They were on the mantle."

"Thanks," said Harry. "We need to get Hermione somewhere safe."

"Shell Cottage," said Ron for a second time. "It's Bill's place. We'll be safe there."

"Right," said Harry. Harry had what felt like a hundred questions for Ron, but knew they had to wait. "Help me with Hermione, will you?" Wordlessly, Ron put Hermione's other arm over his shoulder and helped Harry to bear her weight. Harry then looked at Dobby.

"Ready when—"

Just then, a door on the other side of the living room burst open. Draco Malfoy stood framed in the doorway, his mouth momentarily slack as he took in the sights of the room. Then, his face contorted into a raged scowl, his wand pointed at Harry.

Harry however, was much quicker.

"Expelliarmus," he shouted. Draco's wand flew into the air and clattered onto the floor and rolled to Dobby's feet. Harry smiled at the elf.

"Care to do the honors, Dobby?"

The elf smiled a toothy grin. Draco watched in horror as Dobby took the last wand of his former masters and snapped it over his knee. Green sparks hissed as the two pieces were tossed haphazardly onto the floor to join the other severed wands.

"Get us out of here, Dobby," said Harry, giving one last angry look at Draco.

"Yes, Harry Potter sir." Dobby took Ron's outstretched hand and snapped his fingers. There was the familiar suffocating and constricting feeling of being squished into nothingness, and then, salty air and a light breeze to ruffle his hair.

They had made it.

A small cottage was just around the small knoll of dirt, the sea a peaceful backdrop. The sound of seagulls overheard and the persistent gentle roll of waves was an unnerving contrast to the place they had just left.

"Let's get Hermione inside," said Harry. Ron nodded and together, they led Hermione around the dirt knoll and toward the cottage. Dobby led the way. Harry couldn't help but notice how slow and…delicate Dobby's movements had become.

"Dobby, are you alright," asked Harry. "You were brilliant back there."

"Dobby is being alright, Harry Potter," said the elf. "Dobby is just very tired, sir. It's not being easy for a House Elf to snap wands, Harry Potter, sir, not being easy at all."

"What do you mean," he asked, as they rounded the knoll.

"The manor is full of Old Magic," said Dobby. "Dark Old Magic," he clarified further. "The old enchantments of a House Elf's bondage are not easy to…overcome…Harry Potter. But Dobby did, Harry Potter. Dobby did…overcome." And then, as though knowing it would happen, Harry detached himself from Hermione without warning, dived forward, and caught Dobby as he fell backward.

"Dobby!"