Transgender Fertility Potion Management Regulations

"Dobby!"

Monday, 9 a.m.

Harry jolted awake from his dream, the sensation of magic sweeping over his body traveling from his nerve endings to his brain.

Then he saw two eyes the size of tennis balls.

A moment later, he recognized the visitor from that gaudy, mismatched outfit.

"What are you—"

Dobby jumped up excitedly. "Professor Dumbledore ordered us to help the little ones at Hogwarts clean their beds.

We used to do it too. But only once a week.

Now we can do it every day! What a wise decision!

We did it this way before too. But it was rejected.

They said it had no smell this way. The little ones couldn't sleep properly without it.

How strange. Isn't it better when everything is nice and clean?"

Harry immediately became alert. He had thought of something.

"Dobby, did Professor Dumbledore emphasize how thoroughly the beds had to be cleaned?"

"Harry Potter really is brilliant!

Dumbledore specifically emphasized that the hair on the beds had to be cleaned away completely.

If there was any on the carpets, it had to be cleaned up too.

How strange! We house-elves can easily meet Dumbledore's requirements with our cleaning magic.

We have always done it this way, so why did Dumbledore emphasize it?

Never mind. Dobby has to go.

Though Dobby really wants to stay.

But Dobby still has work to do."

Then, with an unhidden crack, Dobby vanished from the spot.

After Dobby disappeared, there came a tapping sound against the windowpane.

Harry turned to look. It was Hedwig.

Harry flicked his wand, and the window opened. Hedwig flew onto his shoulder and affectionately pecked his earlobe.

Then she dropped a newspaper.

Harry guided Hedwig to the silver-painted perch beside the bed.

Then he looked around.

Sure enough, it should be