“It really is nice here, I should visit more often,” Hermione said as she and Harry walked through Elfhome. It had changed massively in the last year. Now what had been a sheet of ice had been transformed into a massive tower, made of the black stone that had been buried beneath the ice before.

The elves had imported soil and grown some plants for decoration in places using the heat from the wards Harry had placed. The tower went high in the air and deep beneath the earth where even now the elves were excavating and creating more rooms and spaces to gather. They seemed to have turned their prior obsession with cleaning to building as they settled into this place. Although the place was spotless as well, don’t get him wrong.

Proper warding for permanent structures wasn’t something that Harry had investigated beyond the necessary minimum a year ago when he first put up the wards in this place, but he was rapidly improving as Dobby told him some issue the elves were having with the warding scheme and he made the necessary improvements.

Not that any of the other elves would ever complain to Harry or Hermione about anything, they worshiped them too much for that. In their eyes it was ungrateful to ask them for anything more despite both their insistence that they wanted to help if the elves needed anything.

They actually had to be careful not to express too strong opinions about anything or the freed elves would leap ahead and incorporate whatever they complimented in everything they did. One time Harry had said he liked a particular design for the frame for one of the doorways on his visits. When he came back every doorway had that exact design. He didn’t comment on it to the elves directly after, but he was a lot more careful with his compliments from then on.

Hermione had said she really liked the plants and after they exploded all over the building, covering every open space. Although Harry thought that was a good choice, it did make the place feel more comfortable and homey.

Harry spotted Dobby in the distance talking to Councilor Pinky and waved. Dobby spotted them and after a few quick words to the elf in front of him he disappeared. There was a pop and he appeared in front of them in the hallway and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Can’t even walk up a staircase, Dobby?” she said sarcastically.

“Why would I?” Dobby said, “That’s what magic’s for. Plus, I didn’t want Councilor Pinky to have the opportunity to chase me.”

“Is she still trying to make you king?” Harry asked.

Dobby grimaced, “Indeed… You know how hard I worked to get the other elves to set up an elected council. And if I asked for it they would happily throw it all away and make me in charge of everything. I don’t want to be in charge!”

“Tell me about it,” Hermione said, “Being a leader is terrible. Moving up the Ministry just means more and more work for me. But that's how you do change. And most of the people I boss around probably still hate me because I’m a muggleborn that is more successful than them. At least the elves want you to be their leader because they love you so much.”

“But Hermione, if you're more successful than them why don’t you gloat a little?” Harry said, “Get a little revenge.”

“Oh, I do,” Hermione said, “The blood purist ones get the most paperwork. Everyone started toning down their comments about me after that. You have no idea how satisfying it was to berate this one guy in my department after he called his coworker a mudblood. He was all flushed in anger, but he had to just take it because he wanted to keep his job. He kept his head down after that. Especially because I’m the head of the department by now, he can’t step out of line and get away with it again like before I was in charge of him.”

“I do not think I would have that problem,” Dobby said, “But I like working the store counter and being a salesman. I don’t want to be responsible for the progress of the whole elf community.”

“Dobby, have you considered that Councilor Pinky may be approaching you because she may want to start dating you?” Harry said, “She seems far more determined than the others on the council. And she stands rather close when she speaks with you.”

“No.” Dobby denied instantly before thinking about it more, “No…? Huh. Maybe? Ugh, now things will be even more awkward when I see her next...”

“Well, best of luck Dobby,” Hermione said.

“How is Steve by the way?” Harry said, “I haven’t seen him in a while. Are you still going out with him?”

Hermione grimaced, “No. He was nice, but I’m always too busy with work or my big secret trips to come visit Elfhome. It wasn’t fair to him. It just never seems to work out…”

“Well, maybe you’ll have more time after you finish with your time as Minister,” Harry said comfortingly, “You’ll start campaigning next year, right?”

“Yeah…” Hermione said, “Arthur Weasley already said he would endorse me. That’s big since he’s essentially the head of the light faction still, even after all of these years. I was just thinking that maybe I… I don’t know. I’m right there, but I’m already overloaded with work now. Maybe I should be looking for another line of work, finally relax for once. Have enough time that I can be there for guys like Steve.”

She looked down at the ground, so Harry put his hand on her shoulder, “We’ll support you either way, Hermione. Me and Dobby,” He said, “You’ve already done a lot of good. You remember how terrible things were when we were at school, how people treated you so horribly out in the open because you weren’t pureblood. You’ve fought that back so much over the years that I don’t think you realize how much has changed. I remember every moment of my life, and I can tell the difference you have made in how people talk to each other. How they don’t openly mutter about someone’s heritage whenever they walk by on the street. There’s no shame in stopping here and doing what will make you personally happy rather than what’s good for the world.”

“But I can’t!” Hermione said in frustration, “It will just prove to all the purebloods that someone like me can’t ever rise to minister. That I was some sort of fluke and its pureblood's job to rule.”

Harry took his hand off her shoulder. “It's your decision, Hermione. They will mutter nasty things no matter what you do, Minister or not. But you’ll never finish purifying the ministry to your satisfaction. It is far too dirty and corrupt for that. There will always be a new goal for you to chase. It sounds like you really don’t want to be Minister, and are trying to justify it to yourself. Why not do what will make you happiest?”

Hermione looked at Harry as Dobby watched the exchange in silence, “I thought you supported me either way? It sounds like you have an opinion,” she said, sounding a little annoyed.

“You’ve mentioned this idea of not becoming Minister over forty times in the last six months alone," Harry replied, "Ever since you started gathering support for a campaign. I can tell it is making you unhappy, despite your larger reasons for pushing forward. If you want me to convince you, then I will. You know what I’m saying is true even if you don’t want it to be so. Have I ever lied to you ever since I shared all my secrets with you years ago?”

Hermione puffed up as if to argue, until she deflated. “I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be Minister, and deal with everyone in the wizarding world constantly questioning me because I’m both muggle born and a woman at the same time. I’m just… I really liked Steve.”

“You’re talented, Hermione,” Dobby chimed in, “I’ve said for years the Ministry is holding you back. We both know you have no real respect for their authority. You shouldn’t respect them, you know the kinds of things they would do if they ever discovered Elfhome’s existence. You could go and get another job and be just as successful without all of this stress. You know Harry’s offer to join in on our enchanting business is open. Or at Fred, George, and Ginny’s joke shop as well from what you’ve told us. Or strike out on your own. Then you can make time for whatever or whoever you want without the Ministry holding you back and making you work more than you want or need to.”

Hermione looked shocked. Dobby had used her first name, he had only done so a few times in the entire span of time that Harry had known him. All for topics that he was deadly serious about. Something that Harry saw from Dobby’s face was true here as well.

Hermione sat there in silence for a long moment before replying, “Thank you, both of you. You’re right, I should do what makes me happy. There will always be some new goal to chase in politics. I’ll… I’ll look into it.”

“Good,” Harry said, “Did you hear that the elves have installed a pool, Hermione? We should go see it, it's deep underground by the newer chambers.”

“Sure, sounds good,” Hermione said, still sounding a little down, “But let’s walk there, I want to enjoy the scenery a little.”

The rest of the tour was interesting as always as various elves showed off various things they had created since their last visit. But despite her best efforts Hermione remained distracted for the rest of the trip.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

— — —

“I’ve decided,” Hermione said excitedly, “I’m going to be a wardbreaker for Gringotts. With my wandless magic it will be perfect, I'll feel the spells and know before I hit a nasty part of the defenses. I can do individual high intensity jobs so I can spend more or less time at work as I want. And I’m back with Steve again! I really missed him…”

“That’s great, Hermione,” Harry said, “Sounds perfect for you. I’m glad you’ve found something better. How’d Arthur Weasley take it?”

“Well, he was disappointed of course,” Hermione replied, “But his oldest, Bill, is actually a cursebreaker for Gringotts. Pretty much a wardbreaker like I’m going for but he deals with breaking through more specific types of wards as part of a larger team. My idea is I’d do everything myself except for support on some of the more advanced defenses. I’ve been in contact and Bill’s provided some good references for books and spells that will help me out in the field. I’m sure it will be very helpful. I actually saw Ron while I was there. It was a little awkward given how long it's been since we’ve spoken… He seemed happy enough as an Auror the last time we talked about it.”

“Speaking of Aurors,” Harry said, changing the topic away from Ron, “Ragnok tells me another one of the pureblood families is trying to import a house elf into Britain. You think the House Elf Liberation Front will strike again?”

Hermione smiled, “Why, I think they probably will. What a shame, these series of vicious thefts of those expensive house elves over the last year or so…”

— — —

“...Sir, are you sure this is a good idea? You know the House Elf Liberation Front has already stopped any attempts to have a house elf in Britain for over a year. You’ve heard the rumors of what they’ve done. Why are we any different than the others?”

“Shut up!” Vincent Crabbe snarled. Ever since the murder of his father by Dumbledore, this steward had always hovered over him. The man had completely run things top to bottom while Vincent was a minor and once Vincent had come of age the man was too deeply entrenched in his finance and house affairs to uproot from his position. Vincent had been forced to take control of his family business with this man second guessing every little decision he made, ready to snatch away the purse strings if he ever disagreed with Vincent too much.

Most thought Vincent stupid, but he wasn’t. He just knew when to keep his mouth shut when it would get him in trouble, something that had served him well when he had been ordered by his father to follow Draco Malfoy around at school. At least until the boy and his cowardly father had escaped the country. Vincent still wasn’t sure if Lucius Malfoy had been a traitor to the Dark faction or if he had truly feared for his life from Dumbledore in the aftermath of that horrible day.

“You know how many mercenaries we’ve hired for this!” Vincent continued as he yelled at his steward as his frustration boiled over, “We have over thirty men around the estate laying in wait ready to pounce. The HELF’s pride demands they strike before the elf has been on British soil for twenty four hours. If anything, we’ve over prepared for this given how pathetic that attempt by Goyle was. Got it?”

Five men lying in wait for the attack? Vincent wondered how he had ever managed to be lumped in with that dullard in school.

Suddenly five hooded figures in crimson robes stepped from the hallway into the room where Vincent and the Steward stood arguing. Designs of silver chains slithered over their robes all converging to the gray design of a giant muggle padlock in the center of their chests. An enchantment was blurring their faces beneath their hoods as they advanced.

Goyle drew his wand and fired a loud spell with a crack of air like a whip, the signal to the guards of an intruder. But before he could do more, the leader drew his wand and Goyle and the steward were disarmed before they could even react. Their wands were summoned into the hands of the figure in the center of the leader of the intruders. The person seemingly inspected them for a moment before handing the stewards wand to the crimson robed figure on their left.

“Call the elf,” the leader said, their voice distorted and warped through the enchanted hoods.

“No,” Vincent said, trying to buy time for the guards outside to notice the intruders, “I bought it legally and you have no right…”

The leader twirled Vincent's wand in his hand expertly, causing Vincent to pause and sweat. He had heard what they had done to the last ones that resisted them.

“Please, there’s no need…” Vincent said quickly.

“Do you know why we have this padlock on our chest?” the leader said, gesturing to their robes. Vincent shook his head while sweating heavily as his eyes fixed on his wand. By Merlin, what was taking the guards so long! They should have arrived over a minute ago! What was he paying those fools for!

“To show how us wizards are chaining up and restraining the magic of ourselves by suppressing those we view as lesser,” the leader continued, “Has any wizard recreated the secrets of goblin weaponry? Can any wizard claim to be as resistant to spells as a giant? Yet we have hunted and shunned those that could bring us such power. Power that could be achieved if all the magical races could work as one alongside wizards. Power to bring wizards and our allies to new heights of our shared magic. The house elves are only the first in our quest for liberation. The crimson represents the blood shed over the centuries to keep this lock shut and the secrets of magic away from wizard kind. To suppress our knowledge of deeper magic that could threaten those in power. And those that suppress magic to such an extent…”

Vincent's wand stopped twirling in the leader’s hand in an instant and the person brought their own wand over to hover over it.

“...Don’t deserve to wield a tool to enhance their magic as wonderfully as a wizard's wand does. Don’t you agree?”

The person’s tone grew flatter as they spoke again, “…Call the elf.”

“I…” Vincent swallowed the bile in his throat. Damn them! “Dora,” he said in defeat and the house elf he had bought recently appeared in front of him. “Yes, Master Crabbe?” it squeaked.

“Give it clothes,” the leader of the robed figures ordered. The rest had remained silently staring at him the whole time. Vincent looked around for something to give it.

“Use your sock,” the leader said as Vincent took too long. The leader's wand began to glow slightly as they pointed it at Vincent’s wand in their other hand.

Vincent complied despite the confused and wailing house elf in front of him. He felt his link with the creature break as it tearfully grabbed the sock from him on his coerced orders. “Stupify,” the leader of the HELF group said and their four companions cast spells at the same time. Red stunners hit Vincent, the Steward, and the elf at the same time.

— — —

The leader of the crimson cloaked figures used a spell to levitate the unconscious elf off the floor and walked back into the hallway. Crabbe hadn’t thought to include more than three interior guards in the estate itself. The rest were blissfully unaware of what was happening, patrolling the exterior of the grounds and looking for the HELF sneaking through the wards from the outside.

The leader of the cloaked figures walked into one of the side rooms and patiently waited with the unconscious elf. Five minutes later, six simultaneous cracks filled the room as the elves of Elfhome apparated straight past the wards of wizards. Not that the leader knew where or even what Elfhome was. No matter who he asked, none seemed to know, and the elves themselves certainly wouldn’t say.

The leader had never thought how amazing their powers of apparition truly were when he had heard of house elves, but now he knew its true potential because of this job. Each of the elves grabbed one of them and with another series of cracks they all disappeared again. Making an otherwise impossible job as simple as could be.

It took over thirty minutes until the unconscious Crabbe and the steward were found and the alarm was raised. Another mysterious strike by the House Elf Liberation Front.

— — —

“You are getting rather adept at selling the propaganda I gave you,” Ragnok said suspiciously to the leader of the mercenary team he had hired to act as the HELF house elf extraction team, Richard Silas. He had thought originally it was a brilliant plan. Gringotts were known as cold hearted and only interested in gold. Who would suspect them as the controllers of such extreme idealogues?

This mercenary team was highly skilled and recommended, and Ragnok’s propaganda was designed to appeal to pureblood sensibilities of increasing the power of wizards at the end of a wand while also promoting more equality for magical creatures. Magical creatures that included Goblins for one. But it was mainly meant to appease the light faction that was dominant at the moment in Britain.

Ragnok had created a perfect ideology to appeal to both sides. Something to keep either faction from fighting too hard to crack down on the thefts, while still thinking they were agents of the opposite faction. Because it was not only the dark pureblood families attempting to smuggle in house elves. Several of the traditionally light families were making attempts as well.

But Ragnok’s propaganda wasn’t supposed to actually work on his own team. The man in front of him was fast becoming an idealogue in reality to match the image he projected on his missions.

“It’s good propaganda,” Silas said calmly, “I’ve seen what those elves can do when fully empowered. Does it matter if I believe it or not? I’ve done nothing but what you’ve ordered, and my new beliefs only increase my effectiveness in inspiring fear and scaring away pureblood families from importing any more house elves into Britain.”

Ragnok nodded reluctantly, “Very well. See that you still follow orders. Perhaps I should make my message less potent next time I attempt something like this.”

“Perhaps you should,” the leader of the HELF agreed before standing, “It is no longer your message, but something I believe. After all the years of fighting for whoever’s richest… this is a good cause.”

“I’ll have you know I am the richest in this scenario,” Ragnok said with some amusement.

“Never said I couldn’t do both,” Silas replied with a chuckle, “Just a very comforting bonus to be doing something good for once.”

“Hmm. I’ll keep that in mind,” Ragnok said, “Very well, I think I can work with this. Keep going as you are. I’ll inform you if my informants hear anything.”

“Very well, Good day.”

And then Silas left the room, Ragnok’s eyes following him out the door. Calculations on calculations… This is why he liked dealing with logical people far more. Like Harry Potter. He always got straight to the point in their meetings, Ragnok respected that. And Silas was under a magical contract of secrecy, so at least betrayal of that kind was out of the picture.

Ragnok's eyes turned back to his desk. He was falling back on his actual management of the accounts he had control of, now that he had this scheme to run as well… He will be working late tonight to catch up. Oh well, the price for power. And his investments were exploding in value the longer house elves remained outside of Britain. So it was good business if nothing else to keep up his support for the HELF group.