Dobby Quotes

Percy wouldn't notice a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing one of Dobby's hats.

Here lies Dobby, a free elf.

Dobby has no master. Dobby is a free elf!

Dobby is free.

What's that supposed to be anyway?" said Fred squinting at Dobby's painting. "Looks like a Gibbon with two black eyes!" "It's Harry," said George pointing at the back of the picture. "Says so on the back." "Good likeness," said Fred grinning. Harry threw his new homework diary at him.

So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm. . . ." He shook his head. "You know what, Harry? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you.

Oh you is a bad elf, Dobby!

Yes, Harry Potter!” said Dobby at once, his great eyes shining with excitement. “And if Dobby does it wrong, Dobby will throw himself off the topmost tower, Harry Potter!” “There won’t be any need for that,” said Harry hastily.

Offend Dobby!” choked the elf. “Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard — like an equal —

Your Wheezy, sir, your Wheezy — Wheezy who is giving Dobby his sweater!

But Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter! ... He got up, face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a long, threatening finger. "You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing down at Mr. Malfoy. "You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now.

Dobby never meant to kill. He only meant to maim, or seriously injure.

Draco Malfoy is a bad boy!" squeaked Dobby angrily.

Grabbing a scarf off the chair, I threw it at him. He caught it, clutching it to his chest as he flew into the air. "You gave Tink a scarf. Tink is free!" He flew out into the hallway like a little cracked-out fairy, screeching, "Tink is freeeeee!" Ren looked at me. "What the actual f**k?" I sighed. "He's obsessed with Harry Potter. I'm sorry." Tink darted back into the room, holding the scarf to his bare chest. "There is no reason to apologize when it comes to Harry Potter." "You do remember what happened to Dobby, right?" I said. "S**t." Tink's eyes widened and he dropped the scarf.

There,” she said softly. “Now he could be sleeping.

He did not know or care whether they were wizards or Muggles, friends or foes; all he cared about was that a dark stain was spreading across Dobby's front, and that he had stretched out his thin arms to Harry with a look of supplication. Harry caught him and laid him sideways on the cool grass. "Dobby, no, don't die, don't die -" The elf's eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words. "Harry...Potter..." And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.

What a beautiful place to be with friends. Dobby is happy to be with his friend... Harry Potter...

Dobby cannot let Harry Potter lose his Wheezy!

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.

Socks are Dobby’s favorite, favorite clothes, sir!” he said, ripping off his odd ones and pulling on Uncle Vernon’s. “I has seven now, sir. . . . But sir . . .” he said, his eyes widening, having pulled both socks up to their highest extent, so that they reached to the bottom of his shorts, “they has made a mistake in the shop, Harry Potter, they is giving you two the same!

Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby . . . Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew.

Harry Potter mustn't be angry... Dobby hoped... if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir...

Causing Dobby's eyes to leak with happiness again.

Harry Potter set Dobby free!" "Least I could do, Dobby", said Harry, grinning. "Just promise never to try and save my life again.

Harry Potter has to go into the lake and find his Wheezy—" "Find my what?" "—and take his Wheezy back from the merpeople!" "What's a Wheezy?" "Your Wheezy, sir, your Wheezy — Wheezy who is giving Dobby his jumper!" Bobby plucked at the shrunken maroon sweater he was now wearing over his shorts. "What?" Harry gasped. "They've got... they've got Ron?" "The thing Harry Potter will miss the most, sir!" squeaked Dobby.

When Harry stood up again, the stone read: HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF.

Harry arrived early in the Room of Requirement for the last DA meeting before the holidays and was very glad he had, because when the torches burst into flame he saw that Dobby had taken it upon himself to decorate the place for Christmas. He could tell the elf had done it, because nobody else would have strung a hundred golden baubles from the ceiling, each showing a picture of Harry's face and bearing the legend: 'HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS!

Got a sock,” said Dobby in disbelief. “Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby — Dobby is free.

Harry Potter set Dobby free!

Oh, no, sir, no,' said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. 'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir, we upholds the family's honour, and we never speaks ill of them - though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to - to' Dobby looked suddenly nervous, and beckoned Harry closer. Harry bent forwards. Dobby whispered, 'He said we is free to call him a - a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!' Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle.

Dobby didn't mean to kill anyone. Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure.

You’d better get lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you.” Dobby smiled weakly. “Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home.

Hang on a moment!” said Ron sharply. “We’ve forgotten someone!” “Who?” asked Hermione. “The house-elves, they’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they?” “You mean we ought to get them fighting?” asked Harry. “No,” said Ron seriously, “I mean we should tell them to get out. We don’t want any more Dobbies, do we? We can’t order them to die for us —” There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet. “Is this the moment?” Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. “OI! There’s a war going on here!

Harry dreamed he was back in the DA room. Cho was accusing him of luring her there under false pretences; she said he had promised her a hundred and fifty Chocolate Frog Cards if she showed up. Harry protested... Cho shouted, 'Cedric gave me loads of Chocolate Frog Cards, look!' And pulled out fistfuls of Cards from inside her robes and threw them into the air. Then she turned into Hermione, who said, 'You did promise her, you know, Harry... I think you'd better give her something else instead... how about your Firebolt?' And Harry was protesting that he could not give Cho his Firebolt, because Umbridge had it, and anyway the whole thing was ridiculous, he'd only come to the DA room to put up some Christmas baubles shaped like Dobby's head...

Harry Potter is greater by far than Dobby knew!” he sobbed. “Farewell, Harry Potter!

At some point, which is another way of saying now, your tireless indecision over what to do with your life becomes precisely what you have done with your life.

Dobby a reçu une chaussette, […] Alors Dobby est libre.

Dobby non può permettere che Harry Potter si perde il suo rosso!

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.

Hang on a moment! said Ron sharply. We’ve forgotten someone! Who? asked Hermione. The house-elves, they’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they? You mean we ought to get them fighting? asked Harry. No, said Ron seriously, I mean we should tell them to get out. We don’t want anymore Dobbies, do we? We can’t order them to die for us – There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet. Is this the moment? Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. Oi! There’s a war going on here! Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other. I know, mate, said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, so it’s now or never, isn’t it? Never mind that, what about the Horcrux? Harry shouted. D’you think you could just – just hold it in until we’ve got the diadem? Yeah – right – sorry – said Ron, and he and Hermione set about gathering up fangs, both pink in the face.

Dobby would never be able to tell them who had sent him to the cellar, but Harry knew what he had seen. A piercing blue eye had looked out of the mirror fragment, and then help had come. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. Harry dried his hands, impervious to the beauty of the scene outside the window and to the murmuring of the others in the sitting room. He looked out over the ocean and felt closer, this dawn, than ever before, closer to the heart of it all. And still his scar prickled, and he knew that Voldemort was getting there too. Harry understood and yet did not understand. His instinct was telling him one thing, his brain quite another. The Dumbledore in Harry’s head smiled, surveying Harry over the tips of his fingers, pressed together as if in prayer. You gave Ron the Deluminator. You understood him…You gave him a way back… And you understood Wormtail too…You knew there was a bit of regret there, somewhere… And if you knew them…What did you know about me, Dumbledore? Am I meant to know, but not to seek? Did you know how hard I’d find that? Is that why you made it this difficult? So I’d have time to work that out?

made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose.

Dobby never meant to kill. Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure.

Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf, said the creature.

Percy wouldn’t recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby’s tea cozy.

Harry Potter will do the task!' squeaked the elf. 'Dobby knew Harry had not found the right book, so Dobby did it for him!

Dobby, you can sleep,

Tell you what. You prove you work for the Grim Reaper, and I’ll prove I’m an elf. Deal?” “Deal.” Razr grinned, that killer one that made her ovaries clench. “Come on, Dobby. Let’s go.

If [Harry Potter] knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how i was when He-Who-Must-No-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir, but mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, ir, and Harry Pote shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the dark days would never end, sir. . . .And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more -

He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust.

Harry wrapped the elf more snugly in his jacket. Ron sat on the edge of the grave and stripped off his shoes and socks, which he placed upon the elf's bare feet. Dean produced a woollen hat, which Harry placed carefully upon Dobby's head, muffling his bat-like ears.

Not that I’m not pleased to meet you,” said Harry quickly, “but, er, is there any particular reason you’re here?” “Oh, yes, sir,” said Dobby earnestly. “Dobby has come to tell you, sir . . . it is difficult, sir . . . Dobby wonders where to begin. . . .” “Sit down,” said Harry politely, pointing at the bed. To his horror, the elf burst into tears — very noisy tears. “S-sit down!” he wailed. “Never . . . never ever . . .” Harry thought he heard the voices downstairs falter. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything —

Hang on a moment!” said Ron sharply. “We’ve forgotten someone!” “Who?” asked Hermione. “The house-elves, they’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they?” “You mean we ought to get them fighting?” asked Harry. “No,” said Ron seriously, “I mean we should tell them to get out. We don’t want any more Dobbies, do we? We can’t order them to die for us —” There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet. “Is this the moment?” Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. “OI! There’s a war going on here!” Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.

They always circle back to talking about what ails them and what their kids are up to these days - the two subjects we all know the least about.

What a beautiful place to be with friends.

Dobby — no — HELP!” Harry bellowed toward the cottage, toward the people moving there. “HELP!” He did not know or care whether they were wizards or Muggles, friends or foes; all he cared about was that a dark stain was spreading across Dobby’s front, and that he had stretched out his thin arms to Harry with a look of supplication. Harry caught him and laid him sideways on the cool grass. “Dobby, no, don’t die, don’t die —” The elf’s eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words. “Harry . . . Potter . . .” And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.

If you have seen the snow somewhere slowly fall on a bicycle, then you understand all beauty will be lost and how even that loss can be beautiful. And if you have looked at a winter garden and seen not a winter garden but a meditation on shape, then you know why this season is not known for its words, the cold too much about the slowing of matter, not enough about the making of it. So you are blessed to forget this way: a jump rope in the ice melt, a mitten that has lost its hand, a sun that shines as if it doesn’t mean it. And if in another season you see a beautiful woman use her bare hands to smooth wrinkles from her expensive dress for the sake of dignity, but in so doing trace the outlines of her thighs, then you will remember surprise assumes a space that has first been forgotten, especially here, where we rarely speak of it, where we walk out onto the roofs of frozen lakes simply because we’re stunned we really can.

He’s having a laugh. We can’t let him have that sword.” “Is it true?” Harry asked Hermione. “Was the sword stolen by Gryffindor?” “I don’t know,” she said hopelessly. “Wizarding history often skates over what the wizards have done to other magical races, but there’s no account that I know of that days Gryffindor stole the sword.” “It’ll be one of those goblin stories,” said Ron, “about how the wizards are always trying to get one over on them. I suppose we should think ourselves lucky he hasn’t asked for one of our wands.” “Goblins have got good reason to dislike wizards, Ron,” said Hermione. “They’ve been treated brutally in the past.” “Goblins aren’t exactly fluffy little bunnies, though, are they?” said Ron. “They’ve killed plenty of us. They’ve fought dirty too.” “But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most underhanded and violent isn’t going to make him more likely to help us, is it?” There was a pause while they tried to think of a way around the problem. Harry looked out of the window at Dobby’s grave. Luna was arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside the headstone. “Okay,” said Ron, and Harry turned back to face him, “how’s this? We well Griphook we need the sword until we get inside the vault, and then he can have it. There’s a fake in there, isn’t there? We switch them, and give him the fake.” “Ron, he’d know the difference better than we would!” said Hermione. “He’s the only one who realized there had been a swap!” “Yeah, but we could scarper before he realizes--” He quailed beneath the look Hermione was giving him. “That,” she said quietly, “is despicable. Ask for his help, then double-cross him? And you wonder why goblins don’t like wizards, Ron?” Ron’s ears had turned red. “All right, all right! It was the only thing I could think of! What’s your solution, then?” “We need to offer him something else, something just as valuable.” “Brilliant. I’ll go and get one of our other ancient goblin-made swords and you can gift wrap it.

N.E.W.T. Level Questions 281-300: What house at Hogwarts did Moaning Myrtle belong to? Which dragon did Viktor Krum face in the first task of the Tri-Wizard tournament? Luna Lovegood believes in the existence of which invisible creatures that fly in through someone’s ears and cause temporary confusion? What are the names of the three Peverell brothers from the tale of the Deathly Hallows? Name the Hogwarts school motto and its meaning in English? Who is Arnold? What’s the address of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes? During Quidditch try-outs, who did Ron beat to become Gryffindor’s keeper? Who was the owner of the flying motorbike that Hagrid borrows to bring baby Harry to his aunt and uncle’s house? During the intense encounter with the troll in the female bathroom, what spell did Ron use to save Hermione? Which wizard, who is the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic lost his son in 1995? When Harry, Ron and Hermione apparate away from Bill and Fleur’s wedding, where do they end up? Name the spell that freezes or petrifies the body of the victim? What piece did Hermione replace in the game of Giant Chess? What bridge did Fenrir Greyback and a small group of Death Eaters destroy in London? Who replaced Minerva McGonagall as the new Deputy Headmistress, and became the new Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts? Where do Bill and Fleur Weasley live? What epitaph did Harry carve onto Dobby’s grave using Malfoy’s old wand? The opal neckless is a cursed Dark Object, supposedly it has taken the lives of nineteen different muggles. But who did it curse instead after a failed attempt by Malfoy to assassinate Dumbledore? Who sends Harry his letter of expulsion from Hogwarts for violating the law by performing magic in front of a muggle? FIND THE ANSWERS ON THE NEXT PAGE! N.E.W.T. Level Answers 281-300 Ravenclaw. Myrtle attended Hogwarts from 1940-1943. Chinese Firebolt. Wrackspurts. Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus. “Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus” and “Never tickle a sleeping dragon.” Arnold was Ginny’s purple Pygmy Puff, or tiny Puffskein, bred by Fred and George. Number 93, Diagon Alley. Cormac McLaggen. Sirius Black. “Wingardium Leviosa”. Amos Diggory. Tottenham Court Road in London. “Petrificus Totalus”. Rook on R8. The Millenium Bridge. Alecto Carrow. Shell Cottage, Tinworth, Cornwall. “HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF.” Katie Bell. Malfalda Hopkirk, the witch responsible for the Improper use of Magic Office.

«Dobby doveva punirsi, signore» disse l’elfo che era diventato strabico a furia di testate. «Dobby ha quasi parlato male della famiglia, signore...» «La tua famiglia?» «La famiglia di maghi presso cui Dobby è al servizio, signore... Dobby è un elfo domestico... costretto a servire per sempre una sola casa e una sola famiglia...» «Loro sanno che sei qui?» chiese Harry curioso. Dobby rabbrividì. «Oh, no, signore, no... Dobby dovrà punirsi molto severamente per essere venuto a trovarla, signore. Dobby dovrà chiudersi le orecchie nello sportello del forno per quel che ha fatto. Se mai loro venissero a saperlo, signore...» «Ma non si accorgeranno che ti chiudi le orecchie nello sportello del forno?» «Dobby ne dubita, signore. Dobby deve continuamente punirsi per qualcosa, signore. E loro lasciano fare Dobby, signore. A volte gli ricordano di darsi qualche castigo in più...» «Ma perché non te ne vai? Perché non scappi?» «Un elfo domestico deve ottenerla, la libertà, signore. E la famiglia non darà mai la libertà a Dobby... Dobby servirà la famiglia fino alla morte, signore...» Harry lo guardava con tanto d’occhi. «E pensare che credevo non ci fosse niente di peggio del dover restare qui per altre quattro settimane» disse. «A sentire te, i Dursley sembrano quasi umani. Non c’è nessuno che possa aiutarti? Non posso aiutarti io?» Subito dopo Harry desiderò di non aver parlato. Dobby si sciolse di nuovo in gemiti di gratitudine. «Ti prego» bisbigliò Harry freneticamente, «ti prego, non far rumore; se i Dursley sentono qualcosa, se si accorgono che sei qui...» «Harry Potter chiede se può aiutare Dobby... Dobby ha sentito parlare della sua grandezza, signore, ma della sua bontà Dobby non sapeva niente...» Harry, che si sentiva il viso decisamente in fiamme, disse: «Qualsiasi cosa tu abbia sentito dire sulla mia grandezza... sono tutte stupidaggini. Non sono neanche il primo del mio corso, a Hogwarts. Hermione lo è; lei sì che...» Ma si interruppe subito, perché pensare a Hermione gli faceva male al cuore. «Harry Potter è umile e modesto» disse Dobby reverente, e i suoi occhi rotondi erano raggianti. «Harry Potter non parla del suo trionfo su Colui-Che-Non-Deve-Essere-Nominato».

You'd better clear off before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you.' Dobby smiled weakly. 'Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home.

Chet looked like a big-eyed, potbellied, protohuman in fur-lined, duct-tape space boots - the feline love child of Gollum and Dobby the house-elf.

Dobby’s last words are the same as the first words he says to Harry Potter.

Master had given Dobby a sock," said the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby

There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year,

He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose.

he was going to buy Dobby a pair of socks for every day of the year.

Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby . . . Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew. . . .

Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterwards

Dobby, no, don’t die, don’t die —” The elf’s eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words. “Harry . . . Potter . . .” And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.

Harry Potter. . . . Dobby likes being free!

But I knows Dobby too, sir!’ squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. ‘My name is Winky, sir – and you, sir –’ her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry’s scar, ‘you is surely Harry Potter!’ ‘Yeah, I am,’ said Harry. ‘But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!’ she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

Did he resemble Dobby?” I groan and waggle my brows at her suggestively. “If Dobby was hot.” “Willa, that’s nasty.” She wheezes. “Please tell me they were clean.

What’s that?” spat Mr. Malfoy. “What did you say?” “Got a sock,” said Dobby in disbelief. “Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby — Dobby is free.

Dobby is free

Dobby has no master!” squealed the elf. “Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!

The pudding fell to the floor with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished. There were screams from the dining room and Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen to find Harry, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Aunt Petunia’s pudding. At first, it looked as though Uncle Vernon would manage to gloss the whole thing over (‘Just our nephew – very disturbed – meeting strangers upsets him, so we kept him upstairs …’) He shooed the shocked Masons back into the dining room, promised Harry he would flay him to within an inch of his life when the Masons had left, and handed him a mop. Aunt Petunia dug some ice-cream out of the freezer and Harry, still shaking, started scrubbing the kitchen clean. Uncle Vernon might still have been able to make his deal – if it hadn’t been for the owl. Aunt Petunia was just handing round a box of after-dinner mints when a huge barn owl swooped through the dining room window, dropped a letter on Mrs Mason’s head and swooped out again. Mrs Mason screamed like a banshee and ran from the house, shouting about lunatics. Mr Mason stayed just long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke.

Tis a mark of the house-elf’s enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever.

Master has given a sock,” said the elf in wonderment. “Master gave it to Dobby.” “What’s that?” spat Mr. Malfoy. “What did you say?” “Got a sock,” said Dobby in disbelief. “Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby — Dobby is free.

¡Harry Potter es valiente y arrojado! ¡Ha afrontado ya muchos peligros! Pero Dobby ha venido a proteger a Harry Potter,

¿Para qué? —preguntó Harry, mirando las branquialgas. —¡Gracias a ellas, Harry Potter podrá respirar bajo el agua, señor! —Dobby —le dijo Harry frenético—, escucha... ¿estás seguro de eso?

¡Harry Potter es mucho más grande de lo que Dobby suponía! —sollozó—. ¡Adiós, Harry Potter! Y dando un sonoro chasquido, Dobby desapareció.

Un elfo doméstico sólo puede ser libertado por su familia, señor. Y la familia nunca pondrá en libertad a Dobby... Dobby servirá a la familia hasta el día que muera, señor.

mug before him. ‘Here she is,’ the landlady turned

Just as Voldemort had not been able to posses Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now, while he mourned for Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out... though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love...

My best friend gasps, rocking forward on the porch swing. “You didn’t take them back?” I smirk and take a sip of my beer. “No. He looked so . . . I don’t know. Stunned? Like not offended, but not pervy about it either. It was kind of adorable. I feel like I freed a house-elf or something.” “Did he resemble Dobby?

Master has given Dobby a sock,

Master has given Dobby a sock,’ said the elf in wonderment. ‘Master gave it to Dobby.

Hypnos stared at me, looking me up and down. “How dare you watch our marathon?” I gave him an apologetic smile and shrugged my shoulders. I can only win so many battles. Getting Hypnos out of here, and not beat up, was the only option right now. I really didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Hypnos, I’m sorr–” “Dobby dies.” My eyes widen and I gasp. “No! You bastard!

Harry Potter,” he squeaked in the tiniest quiver of a voice, “Dobby has come to rescue you.

In the east and north of England, Dobby or Dobbs is a common name for a brownie. This appears to be a first name, but as the form ‘a dobie’ also exists, it seems, like Puck, to be the term for a group that has turned into the name for an individual.

Harry’s other presents were much more satisfactory than Dobby’s odd socks — with the obvious exception of the Dursleys’, which consisted of a single tissue, an all-time low — Harry supposed they too were remembering the Ton-Tongue Toffee. Hermione had given Harry a book called Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland; Ron, a bulging bag of Dungbombs; Sirius, a handy penknife with attachments to unlock any lock and undo any knot; and Hagrid, a vast box of sweets including all Harry’s favorites: Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, and Fizzing Whizbees. There was also, of course, Mrs. Weasley’s usual package, including a new sweater (green, with a picture of a dragon on it — Harry supposed Charlie had told her all about the Horntail), and a large quantity of homemade mince pies.

No, Dobby. No te mueras... No te mueras... Los ojos del elfo lo enfocaron, y los labios le temblaron al articular sus últimas palabras: —Harry... Potter...

Master has given Dobby a sock,’ said the elf in wonderment. ‘Master gave it to Dobby.’ ‘What’s that?’ spat Mr Malfoy. ‘What did you say?’ ‘Dobby has got a sock,’ said Dobby in disbelief. ‘Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby – Dobby is free.

And so Dobby is a free elf,

If she were Dobby the house-elf, she’d whack herself in the face with a frying pan right now.

Dobby now handed Harry a small package, which turned out to be — socks. “Dobby is making them himself, sir!” the elf said happily. “He is buying the wool out of his wages, sir!” The left sock was bright red and had a pattern of broomsticks upon it; the right sock was green with a pattern of Snitches.

Well . . . they’ve been following Malfoy for me,” he said. “Night and day,” croaked Kreacher. “Dobby has not slept for a week, Harry Potter!” said Dobby

CHAPTER TWO DOBBY’S WARNING

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 for 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,