Hermione woke up, feeling as though she lay in a soft bed.
"(Y/n)..." she murmured opening her eyes slowly only to see a disappointed looking Ron.
"Ron... where's (Y/n)?" She asked him. Ron stared at her in silence.
"Ron where's (Y/n)?" She repeated again sitting up slightly.
"Hermione..." Ron said slowly as though picking his words carefully. "(Y/n)... (Y/n) wasn't with us when we arrived."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked him scared. "Where is he?"
"We... we don't know Hermione." He said pulling her into a hug. Hermione shrugged him off though.
"I... I need sometime alone." Hermione told Ron, who simply nodded, he sat there for a moment later as if debating saying something before getting up and walking out of the room.
He stopped at the door and told her "There's an envelope on the side table there, Fleur found it in your pocket." And with that he walked out of the room closing the door behind him.
The minute the door closed Hermione started to cry, great fat tears rolling down her face, as her chest heaved up and down.
She sat still for a minute or two crying, until she got her sobs under control. She reached over, picking the envelope up, tearing it opened.
She began to cry once more the minute she saw (Y/n)'s handwriting, her tears splashing on the parchment.
Dear Hermione,
If you're reading this it means Draco actually did what I asked him to do, surprising I know. I've been caught by the the death eaters, a piece of rubble or something must've knocked me away from you three, and well they found me. I know what's to come, questioning torture, bad living conditions etc. I mean I have to look at Greyback's ugly face a lot what could be worse than that? Well actually his odor is but I'll be alright, I'll find a way out of here I promise.
Keep well Hermione, don't to anything I would do... and definitely don't do anything I wouldn't do, Harry and Ron need you, let's face it without you they would've died a long time ago, like first year to the devil snare. Don't worry about me 'Mione, I'll see you again and that's a promise.
I don't have much time now, Draco said he'll try to help me however he can.
If Draco's truly helped me there should be a ring enclosed with this letter, it's made from a piece of my prosthetic, sorry bit weird but it's all I had on me, but it's sort of like always having a piece of me with you.
I only have one question for you, Hermione Jean Granger
Hermione read the last part of letter to herself, barely able to see through the tears in her eyes.
"Yes (Y/n) I will." She said aloud hoping that wherever he was he could hear her, as she pulled out a silvery metal ring from the envelope, and put it onto her left ring finger.
. . .
Harry had lost track of time. He knew only that the darkness had lightened a few degrees when he was rejoined by Ron and Dean.
"How's Hermione?"
"Not great," said Ron. "Fleur's looking after her."
"What's wrong?" Harry asked him, not stopping his shoveling.
"(Y/n)." Was all Ron said.
Harry wasn't sure what he meant by this, but was too focused on his task at hand to ask. He had his retort ready for when they asked him why he had not simply created a perfect grave with his wand, but he did not need it.
They jumped down into the hole he had made with spades of their own and together they worked in silence until the hole seemed deep enough.
Harry wrapped the elf more snuggly in his jacket. Ron sat on the edge of the grave and stripped off his shoes and socks, which he placed on the elf's bare feet. Dean produced a woolen hat, which Harry placed carefully upon Dobby's head, muffling his bat like ears.
"We should close his eyes."
Harry had not heard the others coming through the darkness. Bill was wearing a traveling cloak, Fleur a large white apron, from the pocket of which protruded a bottle of what Harry recognized to be Skele-Gro.
Hermione was wrapped in a borrowed dressing gown, pale and unsteady on her feet her eyes red and puffy, and silver ring on her left ring finger; Ron put an arm around her when she reached him, but she simply shook it off.
Luna, who was huddled in one of Fleur's coats, crouched down and placed her fingers tenderly upon each of the elf's eyelids, sliding them over his glassy stare.
"There," she said softly. "Now he could be sleeping."
Harry placed the elf into the grave, arranged his tiny limbs so that he might have been resting, then climbed out and gazed for the last time upon the little body.
He forced himself not to break down as he remembered Dumbledore's funeral, and the rows and rows of golden chairs, and the Minister of Magic in the front row, the recitation of Dumbledore's achievements, the stateliness of the white marble tomb.
He felt that Dobby deserved just as grand a funeral, and yet here the elf lay between bushes in a roughly dug hole. "I think we ought to say something," piped up Luna. "I'll go first, shall I?"
And as everybody looked at her, she addressed the dead elf at the bottom of the grave. "Thank you so much Dobby for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now."
She turned and looked expectantly at Ron, who cleared his throat and said in a thick voice, "yeah...thanks Dobby."
"Thanks," muttered Dean.
Harry swallowed. "Good bye Dobby," he said It was all he could manage, but Luna had said it all for him. Bill raised his wand, and the pile of earth beside the grave rose up into the air and fell neatly upon it, a small, reddish mound.
"D'ya mind if I stay here a moment?" He asked the others.
They murmured words he did not catch; he felt gentle pats upon his back, and then they all traipsed back toward the cottage, leaving Harry alone beside the elf.
He looked around: There were a number of large white stones, smoothed by the sea, marking the edge of the flower beds. He picked up one of the largest and laid it, pillowlike, over the place where Dobby's head now rested.
He then felt in his pocket for a wand. There were two in there. He had forgotten, lost track; he could not now remember whose wands these were; he seemed to remember wrenching them out of someone's hand.
He selected the shorter of the two, which felt friendlier in his hand, and pointed it at the rock.
Slowly, under his murmured instruction, deep cuts appeared upon the rock's surface. He knew that Hermione could have done it more neatly, and probably more quickly, but he wanted to mark the spot as he had wanted to dig the grave. When Harry stood up again, the stone read:
HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF.
He looked at his handiwork for a few more seconds, then walked away, his scar still prickling a little, and his mind full of those things that had come to him in the grave, ideas that had taken shape in the darkness, ideas both fascinating and terrible.
They were all sitting in the living room when he entered the little hall, their attention focused upon Bill, who was talking. The room was light-colored, pretty, with a small fire of driftwood burning brightly in the fireplace.
Harry did not want to drop mud upon the carpet, so he stood in the doorway, listening.
"...lucky that Ginny's on holiday. If she'd been at Hogwarts they could have taken her before we reached her. Now we know she's safe too."
He looked around and saw Harry standing there. "I've been getting them all out of the Burrow," he explained. "Moved them to Muriel's. The Death Eaters know Ron's with you now, they're bound to target the family –don't apologize," he added at the sight of Harry's expression.
"It was always a matter of time, Dad's been saying so for months. We're the biggest blood traitor family there is."
"How are they protected?" asked Harry.
"Fidelius Charm. Dad's Secret- Keeper. And we've done it on this cottage too; I'm Secret-Keeper here. None of us can go to work, but that's hardly the most important thing now. Once Ollivander and Griphook are well enough, we'll move them to Muriel's too. There isn't much room here, but she's got plenty. Griphook's legs are on the mend. Fleur's given him Skele-Gro-we could probably move them in an hour or—"
"No," Harry said and Bill looked startled. "I need both of them here. I need to talk to them. It's important."
He heard the authority of his own voice, the conviction, the voice of purpose that had come to him as he dug Dobby's grave. All of their faces were turned toward him looking puzzled.
"I'm going to wash," Harry told Bill looking down at his hands still covered with mud and Dobby's blood. "Then I'll need to see them, straight away."
He walked into the little kitchen, to the basin beneath a window overlooking the sea. Dawn was breaking over the horizon, shell pink and faintly gold, as he washed, again following the train of thought that had come to him in the dark garden...
. . .
They had been in Bill and Fleur's cottage for a few weeks now planning their next moves. After having talked to Griphook and Ollivander they had decided it was in their best interest to break into Gringotts, as perhaps there was a Horcrux hidden in Bellatrix's vault.
The mood however was as gloomy as usual. Hermione was rarely seen smiling, her eyes almost always puffy and red, as she spent much of her time crying about (Y/n).
Ron and Bill had filled Harry in on what had happened.
"Well how do we find him then?" Harry asked them one night as they sat around the kitchen table.
"We can't Harry!" Hermione said to them, her voice shaking as she held back a sob. "If... if he lost grip during apparition he could be anywhere! And if he wasn't holding on well... well then they would have killed him" the end of her sentence was barely understandable as she devolved into heavy sobs once more.
Fleur put an arm around her. "Do not worry 'e will be fine zere eez somezing special about 'im."
Hermione tried to say something else but it wasn't intelligible through her sobs.
"Well we could look for him." Harry suggested weakly.
"It's be no use." Ron said darkly. "He could be anywhere in England... or the world plus he could've... you know..." Ron trailed off, but Harry didn't need him to finish his sentence he knew Ron meant that he could've splinched himself.
"But we've got people all across England don't we? We could... we could try to get onto that radio show Ron, Potterwatch or whatever it's called! Ask people if they've seen him!" Harry suggested.
"We don't even know where they're broadcasting from we'd have just as much luck as simply searching for (Y/n) himself." Ron said gloomily.
"Well at least I'm trying!" Harry said standing up quickly knocking his chair over.
The door to the cottage opened then and all of them looked around eagerly, hoping beyond hope that somehow (Y/n) had managed to find them.
Dean walked into the cottage, a portable radio in his hands. "It's tim- oh I can come back later if this is a bad time." He said upon seeing and angry looking Harry standing up, his chair fallen on the floor.
"No no." Bill said to Dean, magicking a chair for him. "I'm sure a bit of radio will help cheer us all up."
Dean nodded at this, still unsure of the situation before taking a seat, placing the radio on the table. Bill tapped it with his wand muttering something, as the nob on the radio span by itself tuning in.
The radio blared to life as Lee Jordan's voice sprang out from the box.
"Well from our sources it seems as though the death eaters have released, or possibly lost, several dragons so for anyone on the run, or trying to hide from them be wary of these dragons.
"And now onto the biggest news that we've gotten." Lee Jordan said from the radio as all the others leaned in to listen.
"We've got rodent here with us-"
"That's Rapier!" Fred's voice said from the radio.
"Yes well anyway that's not important now. We've gotten news from our correspondents inside of Hogwarts, a few days ago a band of death eaters appear there. lead by Bellatrix Lestrange. According to our sources the group paraded around the school, showing off a familiar prosthetic arm, claiming that they had killed (Y/n) (L/n), and that all that was left was the remainder of his arm." Lee said.
"Yeah this comes as blow to us all" Fred said sadly. "Look I knew (Y/n) personally he was a great guy, really knew how to crack a joke, or pulling a good prank, and this... I know this will be hard on lots of us. All I can say is that we should honour his memory in anyway possible, for those of you at Hogwarts pull a prank, be as destructive as possible, for those of you outside Hogwarts, do whatever you can to support Harry, defy the Death Eaters and the Ministry whenever you can!"
At this point Fleur had taken Hermione out of the room, as she was gasping for air between her sobs. Harry had his fists clenched under the table, Ron was staring out of the window his mouth slightly agape in surprise, Dean was staring at the radio in disbelief, and Bill was dropped his wand from his hand.
"That's all from us today, tune in next time using the code (Y/n)." and with that the radio fell silent once more.
"I never though he'd actually die. I mean after everything he has done, everything he's been through." Ron muttered quietly. "I never got to apologize for what I said."
"He always used to call me Don." Dean said slowly. "I can't believe he's actually gone..."
"I thought he'd get himself killed with one of his potions or those stupid creatures he used to keep in his arm." Harry said.
"I think we could all use a drink." Bill said getting up and fetching a bottle of fire whisky, along with five glasses, pour a shot into each of them, magically sending them towards the other three, leaving one glass in the middle of the table.
"He was always looking out for us." Ron said raising his glass.
"Always the first to crack a joke." Dean added raising his own glass.
"He was one of the smartest wizards I knew, always brave in the face of danger, and always willing to fight for those he cared about, and what he believed." Bill said raising his glass.
"He was always a great friend. To all of us." Harry said raising his own glass.
"To (Y/n)" The four of them said downing their glasses, leaving the fifth one in the middle of the table, as it had been poured out for their lost friend.