Part Eight-Last.

Kreacher loved old Mistress. He knew that Mistress had her intentions. He was sad that Mistress was gone. "Never be another Mistress," he sighed later. "But now, must make Master Harry's soup."

Kreacher knew of goodness. Kreacher also knew that Mistress and Master Harry were both of goodness, no matter what kind.

After Dobby punished himself for contradicting Young Master, he snuck up the stairs to check that he hadn't been lied to. Careful to avoid the creaky floors and doors, Dobby peered into Young Master's room—

And saw two owls at Young Master's window: one was tawny and handsome, the other a tiny white thing. Young Master was in the process of dropping his lunch into their two beaks, like a mother bird feeding its chicks. So similar to a grown hen, Young Master made clucking sounds and clicked his tongue. From the doorway, Dobby could see a ghost of a smile on Young Master's pale face.

On a whim, Dobby jumped out and blazed, "Master, naughty boy! Dobby will bring up another plate for Master." Hastily, the little elf dashed away to punish himself again.

As long as Young Master ate in the end, Dobby would press his fingers in the oven a hundred times.

Winky hoped and dreamed for another master she could serve. She prayed and whiled away her days for another human to adore. Fate aspired to one day grant her wish.