Stella Mia

"You look horrible."

Hermione looks up from her library table, yawning. "Thanks." She shakes her head roughly and blinks at me. "Why are you speaking to me?"

"To tell you to check a mirror."

She looks at the books I was carrying and smiles softly. "Those were excellent."

"I know. I'm rereading them. It turns out my cousin hasn't taught a single one of his friends the useful potions skills we learned growing up."

"Draco Malfoy? Malfoy is your cousin."

I roll my eyes. "I know you read the heritage room at my house Hermione. Don't act shocked."

"You two don't seem much alike."

I shrug my shoulders slightly. "It depends how you view it. We partially grew up together. We were taught the same lessons. Learned each other. Though my upbringing was a lot more strict than Draco's. And then there was all that time I was at Beauxbatons Academy and he was here. It can go either way."

"Interesting. Do you think you're alike?"

I hum thoughtfully. "I suppose if there was one person alive on this planet I am most like... It would be Draco."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Yeah. Now, why do you look so awful?"

"I've been staying up late to knit the house elves' hats and socks."

I wrinkle my nose. "Why?"

She frowns. "I want them to have freedom."

I sit down, sighing. "Look, Hermione. Why would you think that would work? So, house elves have a particular set of magical boundaries. Particularly powerful magical boundaries. They are magically and lawfully bound to their masters, and they wouldn't have it any other way, but that means only a master can make them do things, or someone with blood relation perhaps—but it gets a little iffy there." I continue on before she asks another question. "This means only ones master can set them free. Think about all of the laundry that the house elves at Hogwarts do everyday. By your logic, picking that up to do their jobs would set them free, but that's not the case. Dumbledore would have to set them go himself in order for them to have... liberty. So, your hats and socks do virtually nothing other than offend them, however well-meaning you seem to be."

She's quiet for a moment before asking, "So you could set Kreacher free?"

I shake my head. "You don't get it. Kreacher loves serving the Blacks. He wants to continue his family's generational service. He wants to be hung up with his ancestors once his time is over. And I've already talked to him about it, long when Grandmere was still alive. And now, I suppose, the power to set him free lives within my Father."

"I suppose..."

I think for a moment before saying. "Look, it is seen as the epitome of honour for house elves to have served their masters well. That is why, my family at least, hangs the heads of our elves after they...pass. It's for their pride. It does not do to have disgruntled servants—yes, they have to do their orders, but they could still do it terribly if they so wished."

Hermione sighs, sinking in her seat. "Helpful insight, Estella."

"You'd have to know to know, Hermione." I pause before quietly adding, "I wouldn't beat yourself too much about it."

"I suppose this means you wouldn't be interested in a pin?"

"A pin?"

She holds it up for me and I sigh. "Something I've been working on," she says."