Chapter 142: Serpentine emissary

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A frustrated tear squeezed out of the corner of Harry's eye as he stood at the door, kicking it and struggling to hold the flopping elf in his arms. Dobby's head lolled against his wet cheek and the elf drew in a sudden gasping breath.

"Dobby!" In his rush to get him to safety, Harry hadn't realized that the elf hadn't been breathing. He kicked at the door again.

Harry sighed with relief when he finally heard hurried footsteps on the other side of the kitchen door. When it swung open so that he could enter, he lurched forward, struggling to keep Dobby in his arms and swing his shortened staff so that he could get through the door without smashing into it.

"Hey, what's going on? Oh! Dobby! Here, come on in." The voice changed from annoyed to helpful almost instantly and a flour-covered hand grabbed his elbow to guide him into the kitchen.

Dobby coughed and his head rolled off Harry's shoulder. Harry tried to shift him back onto his shoulder.

Harry's arms and back were lit up with pain from carrying the little elf who seemed to weigh more than his cousin Dudley, though in a much smaller package.

"Something's happened to Dobby! Is there someplace to lay him down?"

"What happened to him?"

"I don't know. He just collapsed in the corridor... my staff blew up and the doors won't open."

"Merlin! What's going on? Here, lay him on this table," the person said as they pulled Harry around a corner until he felt Dobby's dangling legs pressed against him, caught between him and a table. "Can you transfigure it into a bed?"

"No, I don't know how to do that. Can't you?" Harry said.

"No, I'm a squib."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not." There was a smile in her voice as she said it. She helped Harry lower Dobby down on the table.

"Er, okay. Hey, we've got to get someone who can help Dobby! Isn't there anyone else here?"

"No, they are eating lunch. Use your staff thingy—doesn't it do that?"

"Uh, right, but it broke," Harry said, lifting it up. It was dull in his hand... just a stick.

"Oh, that's not good. I'll ring Healer Jordan." The woman's steps pattered away toward another part of the kitchen and Harry heard the incongruous sound of a telephone being used.

Dobby shifted under Harry's hand that was resting on his shoulder and groaned.

"Dobby, are you all right? Can you hear me?" Harry asked.

"Er... Dobby is not well," the little elf moaned, struggling to sit up and then falling back against the table with a thud.

"Just rest. Dobby. We're ringing for help. We'll get you sorted out. Just wait."

"Dobby hates to ask... but Dobby is very thirsty."

The woman had returned to the tableside and was shifting from foot to foot next to Harry.

"I'll get you a glass of water. Just hold tight." The woman ran across the kitchen and filled a glass with water from the sink, then came back walking more slowly.

Again, Dobby struggled to sit up and Harry helped pull him into a seated position on the table, supporting his shaking frame with an arm around his back.

"Septima is very kind. Dobby thanks you." He gulped the water and hiccuped.

"What happened, Dobby?" Septima asked.

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