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The Gryffindors exited the portrait hole and were walking down the hallway to the Great Hall when they spotted Dobby. He was sitting down against the wall, cursing about socks.

“Bad socks!” Dobby said. “Stupid socks! Icky socks!”

“Hello, Dobby,” Harry said. “What’s bothering you?”

Dobby looked up and gave a great big smile to Harry. “Harry Potter and his friends have come to make sure Dobby is happy. Harry Potter and his friends are good to Dobby.” He then went around to each person and hugged their knees.

Harry, quite taken aback at Dobby’s hugging gesture, knew something was wrong with his favorite house-elf. “What‘s wrong, Dobby?” Harry asked.

“Harry Potter,” Dobby replied. “A great misfortune has befallen me. My precious socks have done the unforgivable to me.”

At this mention of socks, Dobby again went on a swearing rant against socks in general. It took Harry, Ron, and Seamus several minutes to calm him down enough to tell them what was wrong.

“Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter,” Dobby said. “But the socks were so terrible to me. And Dobby loved his socks very much.” He began to wail loudly as large crocodile tears formed in his big, round eyes.

“Poor Dobby,” Hermione said, comforting Dobby. “What did those terrible socks do to you?”

Dobby looked up at her. “Friend of Harry Potter, those socks gave Dobby a terrible curse called Athlete‘s foot. Not a single step Dobby takes is peaceful. Constantly, Dobby feels this great urge to reach down and scratch his feet. Dobby would too, but Dumbledore says not to. Dubmledore says he can cure it. He gives me healing cream and Dobby puts it on and the cream works. Dumbledore is a great man. He saved Dobby like Harry Potter freed Dobby, but socks have given me terrible trouble. Dobby has sworn off socks forever. Dobby does not want to see another sock again for as long as he lives.”

Dobby crossed his arms across his chest and stood proud and firm against the enemy of socks. It looked to everyone that he was very serious about this new stance in his life.

“Good for you, Dobby,” Ron said. “And how is Winky doing?”

Dobby’s face changed back to complete sadness at the mention of Winky’s name.

“Winky is dead, other friend of Harry Potter,” Dobby answered sadly. “Winky could not stop being depressed over Mr. Crouch. Winky became a butterbeer drunk and overdid the butterbeer last week.” Dobby shook his head. “At least, it was a peaceful death. Dobby doesn‘t think Winky suffered any. But it‘s terrible being a butterbeer addict.”

Dean sniffed back his tears. “I know what you mean, Dobby. My mum was a butterbeer addict, too. It happened when dad left us. She figures it was for another witch. Someone prettier and younger. She was so depressed that she turned to the butterbeer for comfort and to forget him.”

A lone tear trickled down the side of his face as he continued on.

“Thankfully, she got help. A group called Butterbeer Addicts Anonymous was her saving grace. Their twelve-step program helped to break her butterbeer addiction for good. She hates butterbeer now. She doesn‘t even touch the stuff.”

He was openly crying now.

“It‘s a disease, I tell you! A terrible disease!”

Seamus searched in his pockets for a handkerchief to give to Dean, but could only find a pair of gloves, some scotch tape and a miniature yellow violin. He gave the pair of gloves to Dean.

“Here, Dean,” Seamus said. “Sorry, but I don‘t have any handkerchiefs with me.”

Dobby sighed again. “Yes. Life has been hard for Dobby lately. Dobby had to reevaluate his place in life. It has taken much soul searching for Dobby, but Dobby thinks he has finally found his calling.” Dobby looked up at the group. “Dobby has quit his job as house-elf for Hogwarts and has decided to cultivate Carnivorous African Tundra Trees.” Dobby smiled, the pride in his face quite evident.

“That‘s great, Dobby,” Harry said. “But what are Carnivorous African Tundra Trees?”

“Dobby will explain to Harry Potter and his friends because Dobby loves Harry Potter and his friends.” Dobby went around and hugged everyone’s knees again. “Harry Potter and friends,” Dobby began. “A Carnivorous African Tundra Tree is a common tree that is found everywhere, except for the African Tundra. These African Tundra Trees can grow anywhere from two inches to twenty-four feet in height and during the winter months it blossoms beautiful pink flowers that attempts to chew the fingers off of any witch or wizard that tries to pick the flowers off.”

“I guess that‘s where the carnivorous part of the name comes from,” Dean observed.

“But why are they named after the African Tundra if there aren‘t any there?” Hermione asked.

Dobby turned to Hermione and said, “Friend of Harry Potter, there were once many Carnivorous African Tundra Trees in the African Tundra. They were originally cultivated there and flourished in that location. However, the African Tundra Trees quickly grew bored with the scenery. The trees packed up and took a trip around the world. The African Tundra Trees were so taken with different locations in the world, they decided to resettle in those areas. In the end, not a single African Tundra Tree wanted to go back, so that‘s why there aren‘t any in the African Tundra anymore.”

“Oh, that‘s...interesting,” Hermione replied skeptically.

“But aren‘t you leaving the house-elves in Hogwarts shorthanded,” Seamus said. “With you and Winky gone, how are the others going to get the work done?”

“Friend of Harry Potter,” Dobby replied. “There are many other house-elves to take care of the responsibilities Hogwarts requires. Also, Dumbledore has taken the extra measure to hire one Mrs. Molly Weasley to do the cooking for the castle. Dumbledore is truly a great man. Dumbledore said he didn‘t want the house-elves to buckle under the strain of cooking, cleaning, washing, and staying hidden. Dumbledore called it cruel. Dobby does not understand why. House-elves love to cook and clean. House-elves live to serve.”

“I wonder what my mum’s going to be cooking for today,” Ron said as he licked his lips. “My mum is the best when it comes to cooking.”

Dobby looked at Ron with pity in his eyes as he offered the bad news. “I am sorry, friend of Harry Potter, but Mrs. Weasley was offended by one of the house-elves last night and won‘t cook. She has said that she is going on something called a strike until the house-elf apologizes to her.”

“But what did the house-elf say?” Ron asked, panicking at the thought of no food.

“The house-elf tasted some of Mrs. Weasley‘s cooking and said it was the worst thing he had ever tasted in his life. Dobby has tasted it too, and has found it to be very delicious, indeed. Dumbledore has fine taste in selecting chefs for Hogwarts.” Dobby sighed again. “Poor Bob. Dobby knows that Bob did not mean it, but Bob has been very upset lately. He has not been acting like his usual self.”

“And why is Bob so upset?” Harry asked.

“Bob is upset because he has lost something very dear to him. He has looked everywhere, but he cannot find it. Bob is very sad. He is always crying in lonely corners and he has gotten drunk with butterbeer a few times.”

Everyone could hear Dean stifle a grunt at the mention of butterbeer as Harry asked, “And what has Bob lost?” Harry had the feeling that he knew what the answer already was.

“Bob is missing his button. It is round and has a pin on the back. The button says ‘Hi, I’m Bob!’ on the front in big bold letters. It almost looks like the button that you are wearing, Harry Potter.” Dobby walked closer to Harry and looked more closely at the button. “Harry Potter, that IS the button that Bob has been missing. Where ever did you find it?”

Dean stepped forward. “Actually, Dobby, I found it. It was just lying in the hallway, so I picked it up and took it with me. I‘m sorry about Bob. If I had known, I would have returned it.”

Dobby smiled at Dean. “Friend of Harry Potter, Bob will be so happy when he sees that his button is not lost.” He hugged Dean’s knees a third time and Harry removed the Bob button and handed it to Dobby. “Thank you, Harry Potter and friends. I must go and find Bob so that he will stop being mad and apologize to Mrs. Weasley. Goodbye.” Dobby took the button and snapped his fingers, disappearing from sight.

“Well, that‘s that,” Hermione said. “Let‘s get down to the Great Hall.”

And the group walked toward the Great Hall of Hogwarts with Hermione singing “Zymurgy is Our Queen” for the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth times.

“Okay, so, yeah,” Kloves says yet again. “I‘m cutting Dobby from the film. He‘s just too expensive to retain. I think I‘ll stick with Bob, the house-elf, and his puny button. Much cheaper. Oh, and speaking of money, I am now proud to present a commercial break in the story. I figured you guys needed it by now. Must be getting hungry and stuff. And the advertising is good for me. Don‘t forget to grab me a cupcake. Cupcakes are good.”


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To be continued, again...