A Tale From Hogwarts

Hermione was sitting alone in the Griffindor common room at Hogwarts school. She was knitting socks and hats for House-elves. While knitting she thought how prejudiced and stereotyped is the magical society. How the House-elves are treated like vermins. They are not given wages or clothes for their work. She felt bitter about magical society. She thought, one day she would become minister of magic and change the 'elves rule'. 

She continued her work for near half-hour and the thought of something absurd crossed her mind. Why not transform into an elf and motivate them to protest and revenge. Why not make them realize the power of their magic. So she stood up, took a deep breath, and said a spell with her wand in the air. Within a spur of the moment, her nose grew longer, her height started reducing, her skin grew wrinkled and dirty. She transformed into an elf. She smiled at her brilliance in transformation.

She headed to the Hogwarts kitchen, where elves are made to work. There she found an army of elves working like ants. They worked with great proficiency. No one noticed a new elf coming into the kitchen. She moved to one of the elves, who was washing dishes “Sir do you want some socks to stand on this ice-cold floor ?” Hermione said with diffidence. The old elf looked at her with hate and then continued his work. She went to another young elf, then a girl elf, then the one sweeping floor, and everyone ignored her. She felt infuriated. "Listen to me…I am here for your help, we can ask for our comfort, wages, and clothes. We can think of our comfort. We too form an important fragment of magical society. We can win against the tyrannical elf rule" Hermione boasted like a political leader "Elves would win".

The productive embezzlement in the kitchen stopped. Few looked awestruck and others were vexed. The old elf said, "Shut up..you mud-blood". They all knew Hermione wasn't an elf, she was a mud-blood. Hermione felt astonished and despondent at the same moment. She was mud-blood, muggle-born, or an unpure witch. Elves continued their work thinking that she does not deserve to be talked to anymore.

Hermione felt resentment. She wanted to run away. She doesn't want to fight for anyone. She was herself from a 'depressed class'. Her eyes were filled with tears. A tiny hand touched Hermione's shoulder gently. Hermione looked up. An elf with deep large eyes looked back. His face reflected the innocence of a child. His name was Dobby. He said with fumbling words "I love your socks and hats".