The Anger .

Moving back to the centre of the room, he continued, "The room is currently unfurnished, so allows us the opportunity to furnish it as we wish. I'm assured the blackboard can be repaired by the house elves, and they can also provide the furnishings we need. "As for furnishings, I was hoping the low desk option with comfortable chairs appeals to you, rather than benches with high chairs such as found in the potions lab and charms classroom. If it pleases, my lady, I recommend a U-shape arrangement of desks to facilitate conversation among the club members."

"Well," said Daphne, appearing to think hard, "I believe we shall take it." Before adopting a stern mien, "Of course, it will need to be properly cleaned and serviced before I'm willing to run our little club from here."

"Of course, my lady; of course," replied Harry in full sycophantic mode and repeatedly bowing most humbly.

That was it for Daphne. She cracked up laughing. "Alright," she giggled, raising her hands in the air. "You got me. And, yes, this one will do very nicely."

Harry grinned back.

After once again visiting Professor Flitwick and letting him know which classroom they chose as first preference, they headed for the library to meet with the others. The professor said he would ensure the elves cleaned and readied the room for them.

"I confess to being unsure if they will be able to locate sufficient similar, if not identical, pieces of classroom furniture for you," said the professor.

"Actually, it might be best if they don't," mused Harry. "By looking like a whole bunch of cast-offs it won't look like a formal classroom."

"And, as it won't look like a formal classroom," continued Daphne, "the members won't feel like they're students in a class."

"Precisely," replied Harry.

"In that case," said the Professor, bringing the impromptu meeting to an end, "I'll make sure the elves are aware of that need. And I'll ensure you're notified directly by the elves once the room is ready for you."

"Thank you, Professor," they both said, leaving the office.

The seven were just finished packing away their school works when a house elf popped in between Harry and Daphne.

A little startled, at first, Harry didn't get a chance to ask what it wanted before Daphne beat him to it. "Yes?" she asked. The house elf replied, "The classroom young Master and Miss be asking for is now being ready."

"Thank you," said Daphne before the little house elf popped away again.

Hermione, mouth gaping open, was looking at the spot where the house elf had stood. "Wh - what was that?" she asked.

"That was a house elf, Hermione," replied Daphne. "They work here to take care of the needs of the students and staff."

The seven began to make their way to the Great Hall.

"They're - they're not slaves, are they?" asked Hermione in a voice tinged with accusation as they walked.

"Certainly not!" huffed Daphne. "They're servants who live in a symbiotic relationship with wizardkind. Working for witches and wizards makes them happy and strengthens their magic. In return, they - borrow from the magic of witches and wizards to whom they're bonded."

"Or," continued Harry, "if not bonded to a specific witch or wizard, they can be bonded to a family as a whole. Or even, as is the case with the elves of Hogwarts, to a specific place; so long as it is magical enough."

"So," said an unsure Hermione, "not slaves then?"

"No," replied Susan. "We treat our family elves with respect. However, there are some families that treat them most appallingly. The Malfoys are one such example. Thankfully, they're few and far between."

Shocked, and not a little outraged, Hermione asked, "Can't something be done for them?" Before she went on, "I mean, we have the RSPCA, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, to ensure pets and other creatures are not treated badly. And that those who do are prosecuted."

"No," replied Susan, again. "There are no laws in place to ensure house elves are treated well. Though I, for one, wish there was."

"And that house elf that came to talk to Harry and Daphne?" asked Hermione.

"One of the ones that work here at Hogwarts," replied Harry. "It came to let us know the meeting room for our etiquette club is ready."

Daphne explained, "We told Professor Flitwick which vacant classroom we wanted to use, and he had the house elves working to get it how we wanted it. The elf was just letting us know that they were finished."

"And, when can we see this wonderful new clubroom - house - whatever?" asked Tracey.

"How about we take you to see it after dinner?" asked Daphne.

"Yeah! Thanks! I'd like that," replied Tracey, happily.

After dinner, Harry and Daphne led the other five up the grand staircase to the third floor and down towards the classroom they'd selected.

"Aren't you afraid of the 'painful death' the headmaster told us about last Monday night?" asked Hermione.

"Huh?" asked Harry, stopping suddenly and turning around. This brought the whole group to a halt. Giving his head a bit of a shake he asked the Gryffindor girl, "I'm sorry? What were you talking about?"

"Last Monday night, just as dinner was about to be served, the Headmaster made an announcement," she explained. "He said stay away from the third floor corridor on the left unless you want to suffer a horrible and painful death."

"Why the bloody hell would he say something like that?" asked Harry.

"Language! And, I have no idea," replied Hermione. "But it's what he said."

"Alright," he said firmly. "We'll go and check it out after we check out the new club house."

"Harry, it's forbidden!" said Hermione shocked. "Not according to what you said, Hermione," replied Harry firmly. "Look at it this way; according to what you just said, it's quite alright for me to go to the third floor corridor on the left if I actually do want to die a horrible and painful death. Who's to say I don't?"

"I..." she stuttered. "But..."

"Precisely," said Harry. "Dumbledore has been speaking in public for many decades. He's been on the Wizengamot since he was awarded his Order of Merlin First Class. He knows how to string a coherent sentence together. He knows how to say something so it's not misinterpreted. He would not have made it to the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, if he did not have that particular talent. He would not have made it to the position of Supreme Mugwump, either."

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