666

Chapter 5

666

I sat in the potions classroom pouring over the potions book again. It resembles a cookbook, crossed with a magical medieval textbook. It was strange. Full of bizarre recipes for the most bizarre of solutions. The purpose of some of them made sense, though. These UK wizards and witches were in dire need of the tooth whitening potion.

Especially Professor Snape.

Sitting and reading, I was waiting as my cauldron simmered the boil curing potion to a finished light green. It was an especially boring book compared to the others in my opinion. It was like reading a cookbook. I don't know what would be on the final exam, but there was no way I would be able to memorize an entire cookbook full of obscure ingredients.

It was with great disappointment that I turned in my completed potion to the professor and left the classroom with my year-mates. Potions was a disappointment. Maybe charms and History wouldn't be so boring.

It was learning about magic after all.

“We still have an hour until lunch is served.” Nott announced after glancing at his watch. “What should we do until then?”

I had an idea.

“Why don't we all find someplace private and have a few drinks?” I asked “Can't hurrt to go to lunch with a little buzz.”

“No thanks, Draco.” Blaise remarked. “I had enough last night.”

“Thats what she said.” I muttered quietly quietly before speaking up. “Alright then, how about you Theodore?”

“No, I don't want to feel that awful hangover anytime soon.” Theo put his two cents in.

“How about the library then?” I asked. I was interested in reading more magic books. After getting into the charms textbook, I was falling in love with magic books. “I want to look up some offensive spells, soon.” I added, “I don't like this having to stick together in a pack for safety issue that flint was talking about.”

Crabbe and Goyle grunted negatives at that. Blaise and Theodore had no interest in studying before class.

What buzz-kills!

“Why don't you guys walk me to the library and go explore the castle then?” I sighed “Just remember to come and get me before you head to lunch.”

The boys accepted that response a lot better. It sounded like fun. I had no real desire to explore the school other than to get to classes and meals. Snape had handed us a simple school map to go with our class schedules and that was all the exploring I needed.

We made our way up the stairs and they left me alone in the library corridor. I waited for them to leave before ducking into a nearby bathroom.

It was empty thankfully.

“Dobby.” I called.

He popped in existence at my feet. “How can Dobby help kind master?” He inquired in a high pitched voice.

“I'm out of liquor.” I took the empty flask from my robes and shook it. “Can you bring me another bottle?”

“Dobby can do that, kind master.” He snapped his fingers and another bottle of hooch appeared on the floor. He picked up the bottle from the floor and held it up to me. “Heres kind master's lick her.”

I stifled a chuckle at the elf's mangling of the English language and looked at my new bottle of booze. Black label Crown Royal. I felt something weird in the back of my mind.

What was nagging me?

Why would a wizard drink 25 year old American Whiskey? Where was the little guy buying it from? Some magical elf supply store?

“Dobby,” I turn my attention downwards. “Where did this come from?”

“From the lick-her store, kind master.” The house elf replied.

“A muggle liquor store?” I prodded for more information.

Dobby looked nervous as he tugged on his ears fitfully. He nodded at me as his eyes began to fill with tears. “Dobby is getting it from the muggles, kind master.” He looked ready to sob.

“Thats fine Dobby. I don't mind drinking muggle liquor.” I added hurriedly before he started wetting my crotch with his tears once more. “In fact, I prefer the muggle stuff.” I couldn't help but ask another question. “But how are you paying for it? I can't imagine a muggle taking wizarding money from a magical elf for hooch...” I trailed off.

Dobby began to sob as he tugged on his ears. “Dobby is taking it, young master.” He choked out between sobs. “The muggle don't take sickles like the markets do.” he sobbed harder “Dobby be stealing it” He pulled on his ears hard enough that they began to bleed.

I grabbed his hands. “Stop hurting yourself.” I felt a little guilty. “”Dobby, I'm glad you are willing to steal for me.” He stopped sobbing and looked up at me with a teary face. I wiped away his tears with my sleeve.

“It just proves how loyal you are to me.” I I said gently “Stealing from other people is just fine with me.” I added, “just don't steal from me.”

“Never!” He declared. “Dobby would never steal from such a great and kind wizard like master!”

What an emotional being.

“Dobby is yours elf.” His eyes filled with tears. “Now and forever.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Youse is a great and kind master.”

He snapped his fingers and the wetness disappeared from my sleeve. “Master is wiping away Dobby's tears with his own clothes.”

What strange delusions of loyalty my twisted mind conjured up.

An idea occurred to me. A wicked idea. An utterly amoral and depraved idea.

A wonderful idea.

“Dobby, I want you to do something for me.” I knelt down to the elf's level. “It may involve some more stealing.” I smiled at him. “Stealing from some bad people.”

Dobby puffed out his little chest “Dobby is ready.” He had a look of determination in his eyes. “Dobby will do anything for the great and kind master.” He added a new title to my name.

“Just call me Master from now on.” I began. “The great And Kind Master thing is a bit of a mouthful.”

He nodded. “Dobby will be doing that, Master.”

“Good, Now heres what I want you to do...”

666

I entered the library with my usual swagger. I only had a half hour or so to find a book that detailed some offensive magics. The library looked utterly empty.

It appeared that no one wanted to do any reading on the first day of class. Not surprising, really. A few upper year Ravenclaws sat grouped together, talking quietly with a stack of books in front of them.

I headed down the isles of the defense against the charms section and found the second year textbook 'Standard Book of Spells: Grade 2'. I took it off the shelf and went to find a place to read.

I spotted Hermione with her face buried in a potions book. I made my way over in her direction. “Hello, Hermione.”

She looked up with a jerk of her head. She saw me and ducked back down.

“Have you come to make fun of me too?” She asked quietly. “My classmates said that Slytherins will stop at nothing to humiliate a Gryfindor.” She added. “Considering how your friends acted on the train, I don't think they like me very much.”

She sounded sad. I pulled out the chair across from her. “I'm not here to make fun of you.” I took a seat.

She looked nothing like a young Emma Watson. “I wanted to make friends with the only Gryfindor who could answer the questions Professor Snape was asking.” I put my book on the table. “Those were hard questions, Its like you know the book by heart.”

“Are you a Colonial?” She blurted out. “You sound like you are from the Americas.” She added in a rushed voice. “I mean no offense.”

I grinned at her. “No, I'm from the UK, I was just cursed this summer to speak with an American Accent.”

She looked aghast. “Cursed? They can do that?” She spoke quickly. “Why don't you go to a healer?”

She looked contrite at her question. She was so curious that she was rude.

“I did.” I grinned at again. I was trying to be friendly. “They said it was incurable.” She looked very sad for me.

“I don't mind though.” My grin turned into a real smile. “I think its really cool, personally.” I chuckled a little. “Its not every day you get a way to let you stand out in a crowd.”

She seemed confused at my statement. “What do you mean?”

“I don't want to be like everyone else.” I looked down at my book. “I want to be me.” I felt a little better actually talking to someone. “I want to walk my own path.”

I may be manipulating her. She was young and impressionable. Like a young whore just waiting to be snatched up by an affectionate pimp, I wanted to snatch her.

I wanted to posses Hermione Jean Granger. She was literally the smartest witch of her age. She was worth more than her weight in gold and was literally the single most valuable thing in this school.

Other than Harry Potter...

But he wasn't up for grabs.

A lonely and ostracized Hermione Granger was, though.

I wanted someone to confide in, and if I played my cards right, I could trust Hermione.

“I like you Hermione. You aren't afraid to ask questions.” I smiled again. “The fact that you are smart only helps.” She ducked her head and blushed.

“Do you want to work on homework together after classes are over?” I asked. “I think I could use the help of a pretty girl like you.” I was laying the compliments on thick.

If she was a little older and more experienced, she might have caught onto my game, but she was a little naive in a world, alone.

Perfect to fall for the charms of a good looking boy.

“Ye-yeah.” She stammered, trying and failing to hide her blush. “I'd like that.”

“Draco, Are you ready to go to lunch?” Nott called out from the library entrance behind me.

“Yeah, one moment. I need to check out this book.” I called back.

“I'll see you after dinner then?” I asked Hermione.

She nodded with another blush.

Madam Pince bitched at me for being loud in the library, but, I couldn't bring myself to care.

I had failed with Harry. Yet I appeared to have succeeded with Hermione. She would be eating out of my hands soon enough.

I startled my house-mates when I broke out into an evil cackle on the way to the great hall.

“What's up with Draco?” I heard Theo whisper to Blaise.

“Probably the liquor.” Blaise replied

666

Charms Blurred by as we sat and listened to a lecture on wand movements and pronunciation. I was listening with rapt attention as he described the death of Boris the Bewildered. The famous wizard who had done a spell with the incantation of 'Buffalo' instead of 'Buffalato' and ended up with a buffalo on his chest.

Professor Flitwick was entertaining to watch as he stood on a podium of stacked books. Midgets were hilarious, I'd always thought. But to be taught by one three times a week...

Entertaining indeed.

I wished all of our classes were taught by midgets. I might have paid more attention in the history of magic class if Professor Binns was A midget instead of a doddering old fool of a ghost. I drank my Crown Royal and read the textbook through that period.

The textbook was actually quite interesting. It was full of bloody battles against bloodthirsty goblins. In my opinion, it was wholly unsuited for 11 year old children to read, but then again...

When did I start caring whats appropriate or not?

666

I tried to write with the damn quill. It was so damn frustrating. I had to write a foot of parchment for charms, potions, and history of magic, each. Hermione and I sat in near silence as our quills scratched at the parchment.

I glared at my quill. It was nothing like writing with a pen or pencil. Every two words, I had to dip the quill back into the ink. I was a south-paw, which made the writing even harder. If I let my hand touch the parchment, just a little bit, I smeared ink all over my homework, ruining it.

The parchment itself smelt like shit. It wasn't made out of wood like paper was, it was made out of animal skins. It was like the wizards had never considered moving over to paper. It was archaic. It was a waste of good leather.

I loved leather. It smelled like heaven. It gave the air the scent that reminded me of kinky sex and leather covered women. Parchment just gave the air a scent of rotting skin.

Fuck J.K. Rowling and her god damned quills and parchment.

Hermione wasn't left handed and appeared to not be having the same problems I was.

“Hey Hermione.” She looked up from her homework. “You took transfiguration class today didn't you?”

She nodded. “Yes we changed a matchstick into a needle.” She smiled. “I got ten points for completing the transfiguration first in the class.”

I gave her my most charming grin. “Congratulations.” I gave her the thumbs up. “I knew you were a smart cookie.”

She blushed and looked down.

“I have a question though,” I tapped my chin. “Did Professor McGonagall teach an incantation needed for for transfiguration?”

Hermione looked excited as she began to talk about the finer points of transfiguration. “You only need to focus on want you want to turn your subject into and focus on it transfiguring.” She continued. “No incantation is needed to turn an inanimate object of similar sizes into another. Thats what we practiced today.”

I nodded and set my quill on the table. “I'm going to try something then.” I pulled out my wand. “This writing with a quill is killing me.”

Hermione snorted. “I had to practice for a week strait to get the hang of it.” She sounded happy. “I figured that you being from a wizarding family you would know how to write with one better than me.”

I snorted that time. “No I always use pencils or pens.”

Hermione looked surprised. “I though Witches and Wizards always used...” She trailed off.

“No, not all of us, just the pig-headed ones.” We laughed a little. “I think using parchment and quills is archaic.” I added. “Which is why I'm going to transfigure this quill into a pencil.”

Hermione looked nervous. “Spell casting isn't allowed in the hallways” She said timidly. “I don't want you to get into trouble.”

I laughed. “This isn't the hallway, It's part of the library.” We were in a small empty study area next to the library. It was open to the hallway and had a side door that led back into the library. “Besides, we have to practice to get good grades in class.”

She nodded uncertainly and glanced around nervously as I pointed my wand at the quill. I closed my eyes and pictured the quill. I imagined it changing into a pencil. I opened my eyes.

It looked like the quill had turned orange.

I glared at it.

Closing my eyes, I tried again.

I opened my eyes one more. The feathers had shrunk a bit.

I closed my eyes for the last time, exasperated, and tried to change the quill into a pencil one last time. Hermione gasped. Opening my eyes, I noticed that the not quite pencil was on fire, and burning away merrily. I smothered the flames with my school bag.

Damnit.

Hermione looked very worried. “We burned the table. We are going to be in so much trouble.”

“No we're not. I can fix this little mark.” I smile back at her. “I know just how to fix it.”

Hermione looked relieved. “What can you do? We haven't learned the wood repairing charm yet.”

“Dobby!” I called out. “I need help.” He elf popped into the study as fast as lightning.

Hermione just stared at the little creature, shocked.

“What can Dobby do for master.?” He asked.

“I accidentally burned this table.” I pointed at the scorch mark. “Can you fix it?”

Dobby puffed out his chest with pride “Dobby can fix it, master.” He snapped his fingers. The burn faded away.

Hermione kept staring at the little guy with a strange look on her face. “What is that?”

Dobby looked a little offended at being called a what. “I's Dobby.” He said slowly as If talking to a retarded person.

I interrupted before Dobby could fuck up my budding relationship. “This is my friend, Dobby.” I gestured to the little elf whose eyes were filling with tears once more. “Dobby, this is my very good friend, Hermione.”

“I's happy to meet you, miss Hermy.” He choked out. He turned to face me. “Dobby is master's friend?”

“My best friend.” I nodded. Dobby burst into tears as he suddenly hugged me around the legs.

“Dobby is so happy to be friends with the greatest and kindest wizard in the world.” He sobbed. I felt my crotch get wet with tears.

I looked over at Hermione. She looked equal parts amused and confused. “Sorry about this” I murmured. “Dobby can get really excited sometimes. He's very emotional.”

Dobby finally came to his senses and noticed he was blowing his nose into my crotch. He jerked away with one last sob and snapped his fingers. The wetness disappeared.

“Thank you Dobby.” I smiled at the red eyed elf. He had done a lot of crying today. “Can you go and get me a muggle fountain pen?”

Dobby nodded. “Dobby will find one right away, Master.” He popped away.

I looked back to Hermione. She looked guarded.

“Draco, Whats A house-elf?” She inquired in a level tone.

“House-elves serve wizards and witches.” I smiled at her. “They live off of a wizard's magic, and in return they like to serve.” I bullshitted. “It's how they feel they can best repay wizards who share their magic with them.”

I specifically didn't mention that they were slaves. Or that they were often punished with hard physical punishment.

“A bunch of them live here at Hogwarts. They do all the cooking and cleaning.” I carried on trying to sell the slavery of a species in the best light possible. “You didn't think the food cooked itself did you?”

She smiled. “I just thought it was magic...” she trailed off. “Thats so amazing. What else can they do?” She rapid fired a few more questions that I did my best to answer.

“But Dobby is my Personal elf. He has served me as long as I can remember. Hes been serving my family for about 50 years I think.”

“He didn't look 50.” Hermione sounded doubtful.

“Hes an elf.” I said. “They live to be about twice the age of wizards. Some five to six hundred years old.”

Dobby popped back in with a golden fountain pen. “Dobby has brought one, master.”

I took the pen and noticed that it was real gold. They little fucker was getting good at stealing from muggles.

'I'm really starting to love this elf' I thought to myself.

“Lets get back to homework.” I looked at Hermione.

“Actually, Dobby, can you get another pen for Hermione too?”

666

The Prime Minister, John Major, sat in his desk and got ready to do his paperwork, when he noticed that his favorite pen was missing from his desk. He shook his head sadly.

The solid gold pen had been a gift from the king of Saudi Arabia.

'Who would steal such a thing?'

'Who had the balls?'

He opened his desk to retrieve a different pen.

They were all gone...

Was this some kind of prank?

666

I was back in the dorm by curfew. I had finished all of my homework with Hermione's help just in the nick of time before curfew. My year-mate were lounging around the common room in a group. I went to our dorm room to find Dobby waiting for me.

“Did you do it?” I asked, my heart in my throat.

“Dobby has been in all kinds of back alleys in muggle London.” He nodded excitedly. “Dobby found what master was looking for.”

“Dobby found the toughest looking group of muggles and smashed them into a wall until they was unconscious, just as master said. He brought everything in their pockets and put them in master's trunk, just as he asked.”

I hurried over to my trunk and opened the lid. Inside lay a pile of wallets, keys, a blocky brick of a cellphone, and, wads of cash.

At the bottom of my trunk lay the real prizes.

Two clear plastic gallon bags of skunk-weed, a stoppered test tube full of coke, and a .38 handgun.

I turned to face Dobby. He was wringing his hands with a nervous expression on his face. I smiled.

“You are the best elf ever, little guy.”

Dobby broke into tears again.