"Er - thank you," he said as he pocketed the book.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, obviously concerned with Dobby's health.
"Oh, yes, Miss," Dobby nodded. "Dobby is cleaning the attic now. Dobby found a ghoul, sir," he said with a smile.
"A ghoul?" Hermione asked in shock.
"Does Harry Potter want Dobby to remove it?"
"Er - Just ask Mrs. Weasley what she wants done with it," Harry said, knowing if anyone would be open to getting rid of the noisy thing who banged the pipes above Ron's room it would be her. Arthur would probably let it stay there for the rest of his life.
"I hope you're being careful," Hermione said to the elf. "We don't want you hurt again."
Dobby's eyes darted to Harry, as if her prompting wasn't nearly enough for him.
"Yes, Dobby, do be careful," he agreed.
"Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will be careful," the elf said energetically.
"Were you listening to us the entire time?" Harry wondered.
"Oh, no sir!" Dobby said, his eyes bulging. "Not all the time, sir. Dobby's old family didn't like Dobby to always be seen, so Dobby had to listen to know what was needed," the elf explained. "Did Dobby do something wrong?" he asked, his hands twitching anxiously as if he wanted to twist his ears.
"Absolutely not, Dobby, you're a very good elf," Harry said, though he did have a bit of unease about the prospect of anyone overhearing what they say. "We'd just like a bit more privacy than that," he admitted. "Can I just call you when I need something?"
"Oh, yes, Harry Potter," the elf nodded, "Dobby can be doing that. Does Harry Potter need anything now?"
"No, Dobby, we're fine," Harry said, prompting the elf to pop! away with a smile.
"Having someone wait on me like that," he said with a shake of his head, "it's going to take some getting used to."
"Having to get used to it possibly being a good thing is going to be the difficult part for me," Hermione said with a peculiar look on her face.
His relationships had certainly become a lot more interesting.
...
Madam Malkin's looked different than she remembered; smaller, though strangely less cramped with different colors of cloth. Though almost two years of growth could change perceptions like that, the store now seemed predominated by what she called Hogwarts Black, the more traditionally muggle type of clothes that went underneath, and the various accessories in House colors. The more colorful robes she saw the last time she was here were pushed aside for the start-of-term shopping blitz.
The witch she remembered as Madam Malkin looked up when Harry entered and quickly gave him a bemused and exasperated look. She gestured to his hand-me-downs with a bit of a grin as she made her way over.
"If you've come here to charm me into charming those old things-," the woman cut herself off when she saw her. "Oh, you brought your friend as a peace offering," she said with a smile, giving her a quick wink to let her know she was just ribbing him. It gave her an oddly squirmy feeling to know he had mentioned her; she didn't know if she was nervous of any interest going public in case it failed miserably or was pleased he reciprocated.
Harry, still unused to having anything other than cursory relations with people he didn't know very well, looked embarrassed. "Er - Yeah, this is Hermione."
Making a snap decision, Hermione decided to take the onus on herself for keeping this from becoming awkward. "I was wondering," she said, a bit more professionally than she'd intended, "do you take in your old robes in order to resell them second hand?"
"There's a shop down the way which sells second hand robes, but not here, we don't," the shopkeeper said as if unsure what she thought of her. "Then again," she continued, her eyes flickering to Harry, "we don't do temporary alterations either, but who doesn't have a soft spot when it comes to him?"
If there was one thing she could have said to make them both embarrassed, that was it.
"Did you want to go somewhere else?" Harry asked with a bit of a croak.
"No," Hermione said with as much dignity as she could as she fought to get the bit of color back out of her cheeks. "I was just wondering where to take my old things to help those in need."
"Oh, I never thought of that," he said.
She could almost see his brain divert itself away from embarrassment towards safer territory. She wished hers worked that quickly when it came to it; it'd make living with her father a much easier thing to do.
"I should do it too," Harry said finally. "It'd save me from running back here the next time I pick the wrong shirt."
Hermione could see how he'd managed to charm Madam Malkin in the first place, and it was better because he did it without even realizing. If she didn't know any better she'd say it was purely self-deprecating humor, and there may be a bit of it, but a lot of it was clearly rooted in his own natural humility - perhaps even the belief he wasn't good enough; picked up from the Dursleys, no doubt. Careless adults really could mess with your head; if it hadn't been for her dad she might've been as bad as he is, not that she was far from to be honest.