Chapter 7- Dobby's Socks

"Dad?! Are you ok?!" Fred rushed into the room, his dad lay on the floor.

"I just fell Freddie, that's all…" Fred helped his elderly father up from the floor and lowered him gently onto his bed.

"What happened dad?" Fred asked.

"Nothing, Fred. I just tried to put my own socks on…" He grumbled, glaring moodily at the ceiling, "Don't get old, my boy."

"Too late for that Dad," said Fred. His father surveyed him.

"I suppose it is."

"Are you sure you are ok, dad?" George just grunted and shooed his son away, "I brought the box… want to tell me another story?" His dad smiled when he saw the box and accepted it when Fred held it out for him. He shuffled around in the photographs.

"Here we go, talking of socks… that's Dobby, with me and Fred. We were living a harder life then, Voldemort was in control and Harry, Ron and Hermione had disappeared off the face of the earth. We were doing what we could to keep up morale and protect the muggleborns."

Squashed in a tiny, dusty, crawl space beneath a muggle house, in a muggle town; Fred and George barely dared to breathe. Trapped between them was Dobby, who had his large, long fingered hands clamped over his mouth and nose as if he might start making noises involuntarily if he didn't; a child barely old enough to understand that she must stay quiet, who had large tears drippling down her face and the child's mother.

"Where are they, Giles?!" A rough voice asked, muffled by the floor between them.

"I don't know," a weak voice replied.

"You think this is as bad as it can get?!" The rough voice asked, "Muggle loving filth!"

"I'm pureblooded," Giles whimpered, he was laying on the floor, somewhere close to where the five of them hid.

"Who married a worthless mudblood thief! And worse, spawned a mudblood brat!"

"She left… ages ago! I told you. I don't know where they went! No… noo…" His shrieking started again. The child's mother sobbed, pulling her daughter close and covering her ears. Beside George, Fred was shaking in anger, feeling helpless was not something the twins were used to.

"We should attack," Fred hissed at his brother, "Take them by surprise." George glared at his brother, pointed at the child, and shook his head. Fred growled in frustration causing George to glare at him harder and hold his finger to his lips, again gesturing towards the girl. The screaming stopped.

"He's out," another voice said, there was a thump like the Deatheater had just kicked the unconscious Giles, "I've been poking around… they didn't leave. All of their stuff is still here. My daughter wouldn't go anywhere without her favourite toy… and look, this looks like a pretty well-loved teddy, just dropped on the floor… If they fled, it was today."

"You think they are still here?!" asked the first voice. Fred gripped George's arm his face paling, "I've never been good at that spell… what is it? Humino Revello…"

"Idiot," hissed the second Deatheater, "Homenum Revelio!" The twins drew their wands together,

"Dobby, get the girl away!" George shouted.

"Bombarder!" cried Fred causing the floor above them to erupt upwards. The twins sprung from their crouched position into the room.

Dust and debris filled the air, clouding the room, the twins rolled away from where they had been and crouched, peering into the confusion of the room. In the mayhem they heard the crack of Dobby disapparating away.

"I love that elf!" Fred hissed.

"Stupefy!" The curse sprung suddenly from their right, fortunately it hit Fred's shield cloak and rebounded.

"Crucio!" Another cry from their other side, the spell hit George, his shield cloak absorbed what it could, but the spell was stronger than the shield was meant to be able to deal with. He screamed as he fell to the floor, contorting.

"NO!" cried Fred, firing what looked like a stream of lightening at the Deatheater casting the spell. The Deatheater cursed and ducked. George stopped screaming but groaned and rolled onto his back. Fred stood above his twin cracking the lightening left and right and trying to keep the Deatheaters away.

"Crucio!" The cry came again, Fred tried to duck and roll but the spell hit him hard, and it was his screams filling the room as the Deatheaters advanced on the fallen twins.

"Don't kill them," One of the Deatheaters said, "The Dark Lord will want to question them." They lifted the curse, the twins spasmed on the floor.

"Wait…we got to get them outside, can't apparate in this building. Mudblood lovers." One of them kicked out at the nearest twin.

"What about this filth?!"

"Bring him too! And get their wands, they dropped them somewhere."

Groaning, his muscles spasming and his head filled with pain George fought through the agony, trying to focus. He was in trouble, Fred was in trouble. He clawed at his chest until he found a pocket. He rolled onto his side.

"Fred," he hissed, "You awake…"

"Ow…"

"It's gonna get dark, Freddie…"

"Hey! What are you two doing?! Cru…" George flung a fistful of powder into the air and rolled towards his twin. They collided and gripped each other as darkness spread and filled the room.

"I rolled over a wand," George hissed.

"Lumos!" One of the Deatheaters cried, the twins could hear them lunging around. One stumbled and cried out and fell with a thud.

"Stupefy," George fired randomly into the room, hoping to hit the other Deatheater.

"Avada Kedava!" The cry came out of the darkness and George felt the rush of air as the curse passed nearby. He stumbled backwards with Fred, still firing the knock-out curse left and right. Fred tripped and fell, dragging George down with him.

"A wand," he hissed, and scrambled around.

"Fred… where are you…" A hand reached out and grabbed his, "Oh, I got you…"

"It's not me George!" Fred's voice cried. A fist connected with George's face. Fred dived towards the noises and fell somewhat awkwardly on top of the scrabbling pair, he got his arm locked around a throat. A hand clawed at his arm, Fred tried to roll the Deatheater off his brother who was trapped at the bottom of the three man pile up, but the Deatheater wouldn't be budged.

"Get off," the Deatheater was grunting. Fred couldn't hear George at all and was worried he was unconscious beneath them.

"Get off, my brother!" Fred growled again. He'd lost his wand in the tussle. There was a loud crack.

"Dobby! Help!" cried Fred, "We need light!"

Another crack and brilliant light burst into existence at the tips of Dobby's fingers. Fred looked down and quickly released his grip. He had had his arm wrapped around his brother's throat. The death eater, his wand arm trapped was squashed beneath the two of them. "Oh Merlin! Sorry George!" Fred dived towards his wand that he spotted a short way away. George rolled off the Deatheater, clutching his throat and gasping for air.

"Stupefy!" Fred cried, reaching his wand before the Deatheater had recovered. The Deatheater slumped to the floor. Fred spun searching for the second Deatheater.

"He's down there Master Weasley," said Dobby, pointing to the hole in the floorboards where the twins had blasted free. The Deatheater had knocked his head as he fell and was unconscious.

"Get us out of here Dobby… please," Fred grabbed his twin, who was still laying on the floor panting and the arm of the unconscious Giles.

"Of course, Master Weasley."

A loud crack announced the groups arrival in the garden of the Burrow. Mrs Weasley screamed, and ran towards them.

"Wait!" Cried Mr Weasley, approaching with Remus Lupin, their wands out, pointing at the twins, the unconscious Mr Giles and Dobby, who smiled widely at everyone.

"Good Evening Masters Weasley and Lupin, Madam Weasley," The little elf bowed low, his ears flapping forwards.

"What happened?!" cried Mrs Weasley.

"Wait!" Said Mr Weasley again, still focusing on the twin boys. George stood with his arm around Fred.

"What did you once threaten to send home to Ginny from Hogwarts, to cheer her up?" asked Mr Weasley.

"A toilet seat," called Fred. Mr Weasley nodded and lowered his wand and now rushing with his wife to the twin's side.

"Fred, what happened?! Your throat?!"

"I'm George, mum… one ear, remember,"

"Oh, I forget." She fluttered nervously around them, examining them from every side.

"Deatheaters found us, surprised us… strangled George."

"I think that was you strangling me, dear brother."

"What?!" cried Mrs Weasley.

"It was dark! I think Mr Giles might need your help, mum."

"Yes, yes… of course… are you sure…"

"We're fine, Mum."

"I wish you wouldn't go."

"Really?" Fred asked, "You wish we were the kind of men that stood by and let people be tortured and kidnapped."

"No… no, I guess not. I just, you are my babies…" The twins smirked.

"I remember a time not that long ago when we were practically disowned for not being prefects."

Mrs Weasley had escorted Mr Giles away. He was currently in Percy's old bedroom while she bustled around him. Fred found George in a quiet living room with Dobby, staring into the roaring fire.

"You ok?" Fred asked, dropping into the seat beside him. George nodded.

"Throat hurts a bit," he croaked.

"Sorry about that… should have checked to see how many ears you had." George smiled at him.

"Honest mistake," he croaked, "It's not often I get confused with someone other than you."

"I miss the shop," admitted Fred after several minutes of sitting in silence, staring at the fire.

"Me too," George agreed.

"Dobby wants a shop, Dobby has decided."

"A shop Dobby?"

"When this is over… and if Master Harry agrees…"

"He's not your master Dobby…"

"Harry Potter is good and honest and…"

"We know, Dobby. Do you talk about us like that when we aren't present?"

"Mr Weasleys is good and honest and brave. You help to save people. You is heroes!"

"Dobby, you are making us blush," said George pretending to fan his face.

"What kind of shop?" asked Fred.

"Socks," said Dobby, looking down at his own brightly, mismatched pair, pulled up like football socks, above his knees, "Lots and lots of beautiful socks, Master Weasleys." The twins chuckled.

"We love it," said Fred, leaning forward to clap Dobby on the back, "We'll help you get started Dobby."

"Dobby's Socks…" said Fred, genuinely surprised, "I hadn't realised."

"The free House Elf. He was one of the bravest souls I've ever known. Fred and I rescued a handful of muggleborn families or helped muggles out of tight spots… Dobby was with us, every time."

"But House Elves are so subservient."

"Not Dobby. He had big dreams and a brave heart. He saw the good in everyone and everything. It was the least we could do when he died to save Harry." Fred was surprised to see tears leaking from his father's eyes and rolling down his cheeks, "The war took the best of us… You're lucky your mother talked me out of naming you after him."

"Thank Merlin for Mum!"