Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin

Chapter 3: Mysteries and Revelations

9 July 1992

The next morning, Harry awoke around 10:30 a.m. which was actually quite late for him. After years of cooking breakfast for the Dursleys, Harry would probably always be an early riser. Immediately, there was a soft pop, and a house elf appeared next to his bed, causing him to jump slightly. Unlike Dobby, though, this one seemed quite calm and was wearing a neatly pressed white uniform with a blue caduceus symbol over the heart.

"Good morning, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. Iris hopes that Iris did not startle you. Can Iris bring you some breakfast?" the female elf said cheerfully.

"Um, yes, thank you. Eggs and toast, if you please. Oh, and a glass of pumpkin juice."

"Certainly. And Master Healer Tonks has instructed that you also have a tall glass of milk and a nutrient potion." Iris popped away and returned barely a minute later with breakfast and the potion all on a four-legged serving tray that sat across Harry's lap. There was even a tiny thin vase with a daisy sticking out of it. "Can Iris bring you anything else, Mr. Harry Potter, sir?"

"No, thank you. No, wait! Actually, could I ask you a few questions? About... well, about house elves? I had an unpleasant encounter with one the other night. I'd heard of house elves but never actually seen one up close. I realize now that I don't know very much about you all."

"Of course not, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. A good house elf is never seen unless needed. Iris will answer your questions if she can, though she knows nothing about the wicked house elf that assaulted Mr. Harry Potter, sir."

"That's okay. I didn't expect you to. Though I don't know how wicked this Dobby bloke actually is. He did try to warn me that my life was in danger."

"Perhaps. But he also put your life in danger by delaying you at the gate of the house of the bad Dursleys. Had he not intervened or simply waited until you were in your room to talk with you, you would likely have been safe from the nasty doxies."

"How do you know all that?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Iris heard Mr. Harry Potter say what happened yesterday morning, sir."

"You weren't here when I told Ted and the others what happened," Harry said with just a hint of suspicion.

Iris smiled. "A good house elf is always close at hand, Mr. Harry Potter sir."

"Hmm. So why do you think Dobby was wicked, Iris?"

"Iris thinks Dobby Elf is at odds with his master or mistress. A good house elf is a reflection of its owner. If a house elf's owner is wicked, then a good house elf must try to heal him of his wickedness. Sometimes, such healing is not possible, in which case the house elf may become an extension of the owner's wickedness, but that is simply the way of house elves. But a bad house elf will sometimes set himself at odds with a wicked master, will seek to become free elf. And a free elf is not a good house elf at all, sir. In time, even with best of motives, a free elf may become the wickedest elf of all. He risks becoming ... a wild elf."

"And what is that?"

Iris shuddered. "Please forgive Iris, Mr. Harry Potter sir, but house elves do not like to think upon such things. It is ... unhealthy."

"Oh, I'm sorry, then. But can you at least tell me how house elves came to work for wizards? Was it by agreement? Or were you enslaved somehow?"

She smiled. "A slave is an unwilling servant. Only the wickedest house elves are unwilling servants. To be a house elf is to serve. It is what house elves are – what house elves were all born to do."