Unique (Hermione x M! OC)

70. The Free Elf

We land on the beach and all I can do is stay crippled on the ground, in too much pain to move much of anything. Hermione hovers overhead, eyes held in mine, Ron at my other side, I keep him out of view.

"Will he be alright?" Ron asks.

"Knowing him, probably." Hermione says, though her voice has a distinct edge of worry.

"We're alright!" Harry exclaims coming towards us, "We're safe! We're all safe." He kneels down and reaches in to hug everyone, me not included, before another voice croaks out:

"Harry Potter."

Dobby.

He's standing in wet sand, clutching his stomach. Harry runs towards the house elf who collapses into his closest friends' arms. "Dobby." Harry manages in a wavering breath. Bellatrix got him. "Dobby, no, just hold on. Hold on." He puts pressure on Dobby's wound as the elf shakes uncontrollably, trying to fight as life escapes his breath, trying to hold it in with little avail. "We'll fix you," Harry tearfully assures, "Hermione will have something. In her bag. Hermione?!" She bows her head. Hermione has nothing. Tears spot her eyes. "What is it? Help me!" Harry cries as he begins to realise that we have nothing. Nothing to help.

Dobby looks up at Harry with a soothing kindness in his eyes, realising that these are his final moments, the tired house elf struggles - but succeeds - to form words. "Such a beautiful place to be with friends. I feel a familiar pressure in my forehead as tears start to well. Hermione grips my wrist harder in hers, now completely broken down. "Dobby is happy to be with his friend..." Harry bows his head, completely torn apart. One of his closest friends dying in his arms. The life escapes from Dobby's body with two more words: "...Harry Potter."

That's it. Dobby's body goes limp and his eyes glaze over. Luna leaves the house and approaches Harry with slow, calm steps. She crouches down next to him, bent over Dobby's body and sobbing. I wish I could move, comfort Harry. But I'm in far too much pain myself. I collapse to my knees. "We should close his eyes," Luna says, "don't you think?" Slowly, Harry nods. Luna reaches in, gently sets her fingertips on Dobby's eyelids and pushes them shut. "There. Now he could be sleeping."

There's a moment of silence as Harry processes this, he finally speaks, "I want to bury him." He takes a moment to gather more strength, "Properly. Without magic."

Ron looks at Hermione, "Stay here with Sam, fix him up. I'll help Harry. I'll get you when we lower him." Hermione nods and Ron walks towards Harry. The ginger extends a hand that Harry takes. "Let's give him a proper funeral." Ron says, gesturing towards Dobby. He and Luna walk at one of each of Harry's sides as they go to find a proper spot.

Hermione looks down at me with a grief-stricken face as we stay there on that lonely beach. Dobby was right, it is beautiful. I try to ease the tension by cracking a poor joke, "So, doc, how bad do I look?"

The suddenness of the question makes her crack a small smile, which is a win in my book. Hermione gestures to my hands, "I can mend the bones, I don't know what to do about your back though. The spell for cuts is too complicated for me, especially right now."

"That's alright, we'll clean it and sterilise it. That's all we can do right now." Then I look at her, "Are you okay? I saw what she...put on your arm."

Hermione takes a deep breath, "No. No I'm not."

"That's okay. Thank you, Hermione. Truly. I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for you."

"...Yeah. This'll hurt, Sammy." She warns, lifting Bellatrix's wand.

"You act like that's stopped me before." I groan.

"Brackium Emendo!"

The bones in my right hand snap into place and the sound that comes out of my mouth can best be described as the roar of a feral animal, the immediate shock of pain sets me on my side, in an attempt to pressure that pain away. It didn't work. Luckily, the pain is short lived.

"Are you okay?!" Hermione cries.

After I catch my breath I manage, "Yeah. Let's get the other one."

"After all that? You don't want to take a break?"

I try to sit up but collapse back into the sand. Bellatrix stabbed me in just the right place that now any torso movement precedes a wave of pain. I flop onto my back, look up at Hermione and say, "No, just do it."

"Brackium Emendo!"

The exact same outcome, only now, in my left hand. But it's done at least. Soon, she cleans out my stab wound. First with water, then q tips, then whiskey to sterilise it. She bandages me up and we head to Dobby's funeral, her essentially carrying me the entire way there. Harry and Ron are just finishing digging the hole as Luna holds Dobby.

Harry may no longer be crying, but the look in his eyes is that of pure grief. Seeing me on my feet brings a small smile to his face, I stumble towards him to pull him into a tight hug. He hugs me back for two reasons, one: if he didn't, I'd likely fall flat on my face and that's not always wanted at a funeral. Two: he needs to. There's something that is visible through body language that tells you where physical contact is needed here, it absolutely was. He breaks down once more, taking us both to our knees. Ron takes Dobby and slowly lowers the house elf into his grave.

Soon, we're covering Dobby with dirt. He's gone. For good.

I'll miss you, friend.