Luna, who was huddled in one of Fleurâs coats, crouched down and placed her fingers tenderly upon each of the elfâs eyelids, sliding them over his glassy stare. âThere,â she said softly. âNow he could be sleeping.â
Harry placed the elf into the grave, arranged his tiny limbs so 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 Dumbledoreâs funeral, and the rows and rows of golden chairs, and the Minister of Magic in the front row, the recitation of Dumbledoreâs 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. âI think we ought to say something,â piped up Luna. âIâll go first, shall I?â
And as everybody looked at her, she addressed the dead elf at the bottom of the grave. âThank you so much Dobby for rescuing me from that cellar. Itâs so unfair that you had to die when you were so good and brave. Iâll always remember what you did for us. I hope youâre happy now.â
She turned and looked expectingly at Ron, who cleared his throat and said in a thick voice, âyeahâŠthanks Dobby.â
âThanks,â muttered Dean. Harry swallowed. âGood bye Dobby,â he said It was all he could manage, but Luna had said it all for him. Bill raised his wand, and the pile of earth beside the grave rose up into the air and fell neatly upon it, a small, reddish mound. âD'ya mind if I stay here a moment?â He asked the others.
They murmured words he did not catch; he felt gentle pats upon his back, and then they all traipsed back toward the cottage, leaving Harry alone beside the elf.
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