Dobby the House Elf and The Power He Knows Not

Lucious locks Lucius Malfoy sat in his study at Malfoy Manor sipping, what he told himself was a hot tea with a dash of firewhisky. In reality, it was more like a mug of firewhisky with a teabag floating somewhere in it for flavor. He was contemplating his life choices in his own gorgeous reflection. It had never occurred to him that the Dark Lord would actually return. Never in his wildest imagination did it cross Lucius Malfoy’s mind that he would come back.

In his absence, of course, Lucius still kept to his ways, promoting pure-blood supremacy, doing what he could to keep himself and his family in good standing. Whatever it took to keep the Malfoys in the tightest and closest close-knit circle, attuning the power of the wizarding world, increasing their familial wealth and standing. He had done a lot, following in the footsteps of his dearly departed father. Abrxas Malfoy had been an original Death Eater, and Lucius had been dutiful, like all good sons should, like his own would be, and joined The Dark Lord’s order.

It didn’t matter to good old Lucius though, what the Dark Lord’s end goals were. He only concerned himself with his family’s standing and being as powerful as he could be, even if not in the position of government itself. No, ruling through influence, that was where true power lay, not in giving the orders, like Fudge. Thankfully, Fudge was easily manipulated and could be told anything that lined up with what he wanted to hear. Regardless of truth.

Lucius sighed heavily, sipping his tea flavored firewhisky, wondering why he had to speak so boldly at the graveyard in Little Hangleton only a few weeks prior. What had possessed him to offer his own home to the Dark Lord he could not say. All that he knew now was that he wished he had the forethought to volunteer Nott or Crabbe or Goyle’s homes, rather than his own.

Suddenly the magic wards around the manor shimmered and fluctuated. He could see the magic rippling. That must have been the new house elf he had sent Narcissa to acquire. Ever since that loathsome Harry Potter had lost him Dobby, Lucius had had to make do without one. It was maddening, having to wave his own wand and clean up his own messes. That was servant’s stuff. He needed his servant back and with new house guests, it was apparent the time was right. Lucius was sure that his own familial wealth and standing would be more than sufficient to allow them to purchase a new one.

Lucius set down his drink and walked out to the large drawing room. There, sitting, contemplating, and silently petting his massively overlarge snake, was the Dark Lord himself. The Dark Lord did not often socialize and tended to order around the residents, and owners of the manner, as if he himself bore the illustrious name of Malfoy. Since he did not, it was entirely overt and rude for him to conduct himself in such a manner, Dark Lord and greatest wizard alive ever, or not.

“Lucius, what is it you need?” came the Dark Lord’s high and cold voice.

“I was merely inquiring where our new house elf was. Surely, you saw the enchantments ripple?” Lucius asked as if it were obvious.

“Of course, I did. I merely assumed it was you, arriving after going to get food for Nagini. She does require fresh, live, rats. And I would prefer it if she did not leave the grounds at this time. We’ve been so cautious, thus far, my slippery friend, to expose my return now, would be for not.”

“Yes, my Lord. I merely am wondering where my wife is…” Lucius replied.

“Lucius?” Narcissa’s voice came from the opposite side of the drawing room as she entered. “I saw the wards; did you leave or send someone out?”

“No, my love, I did not…where are Draco and the others?”

“I’ve no idea. I thought they were all staying inside.”

“And the house elf I asked you to acquire for us?” Lucius pressed.

“The office said it will take some time, as we willingly let go of the last one…” Narcissa ground out, her frustration as obvious as the mirror on the wall.

“Then why, pray tell, did our wards flicker?” Lucius said as he looked furtively around the drawing room of the manor.

“That would be, Dobby’s doing, sir.” Said a small squeaky voice. A short creature with large batlike ears, wearing mismatched socks appeared around the corner of the large leather sofa.

“Dobby! I see you’ve come to your senses then. Good. You can get to work immediately finding rats for the Dark Lord’s, er, pet.” Lucius commanded.

“Sir, Dobby has not come to seek his old job back, sir. He does not answer to the Malfoy family anymore!” Dobby said, his hands behind his back.

“Then, what are you doing in my home?” Lucius asked.

“Dobby has come to see the Dark Lord.” Dobby turned to the Dark Lord now, who had risen from his position in a massively oversized armchair.

“You, have come for me?” the Dark Lord asked, curiosity crossing his snakelike features.

“Yes sir, Dobby has come with a message sir, from Harry Potter!” Dobby said as he stood taller and appeared emboldened.

“Harry Potter?” the Dark Lord glowered and he grinned, the hope that Harry was giving up was too tantalizing to resist.

“Yes sir,” Dobby began and shifted his weight on his oversized feet. “Harry Potter wishes to know, whether or not the Dark Lord feels lucky, sir.” All three of the wizards cocked their heads in curiosity as they began to close in around Dobby.

The small Dobby grinned as his hands drew from behind his back. He had, holding unsteadily in his hands, a large black metallic looking wand. Except that this was not any wand that any of them had ever seen before. Shaking, Dobby raised the device in his hand and wrapped both hands around the handle. He squeaked as he squeezed it.

POW

Dobby was thrown backwards as massive bang sounded through the drawing room. The Dark Lord, Lucius, and Narcissa all dived out of the way of Dobby. The massively oversized chair that the Dark Lord had been sitting in now boasted a gigantic hole in its backboard.

The Dark Lord streaked around the room, attempting to Disapparate from the manor, but as he himself had put that particular anti-Apparition enchantment in place, not even he could get out of it, as Lucius had reinforced it himself. And neither were in a position or had the necessary time to remove the enchantments, allowing them to escape.

Dobby whirled around the room, knocked back from the power of the blast of the gun in his hand. He twirled around and regained his footing. Suddenly, spells were being shot from all angles around the room, and Dobby was ducking them as quickly as he could. Narcissa, the Dark Lord, and Lucius were popping out from behind cover like puffskeins in a den. Lucius popped up from behind the sofa and Dobby turned and fired.

POW

Lucius looked utterly shocked as the mooncalf leather sofa-back in front of him exploded. The white stuffing was everywhere and perfectly tanned and dyed black leather was destroyed. He would need to throw it out and buy an entirely new one. He would see to that the moment he got his stomach looked at, as there was pain like he had never felt before erupting and blossoming like an awful flower from his midsection. He crashed to the floor in a swirl of perfectly blonde, and well-kept hair. Lucius’ last thought as he lay dying was that he was very much unhappy with whoever got crimson blood in his hair.

Narcissa had not seen her husband fall. She merely knew that something had happened when Dobby fired his second shot. Angry at the destruction of a Black family heirloom, the chair her aunt Walburga had prized and she herself had slipped from Grimmauld Place after her death, was ruined. She crawled out from under a table and her eyes grew wide.

She could see Lucius laying in a pool of blood, his eyes open but entirely unfocused.

“Lucius! No!” Narcissa screamed and shook with rage. She slowly stood and turned towards Dobby, her wand in her hand.

Dobby had regained his foot again and turned towards her.

“How dare you kill your family!” Narcissa looked as insane as her sister, still locked in Azkaban did.

“Dobby did not mean to kill, ma’am. But Harry Potter did warn him it was likely to happen, ma’am.” Dobby replied as he took aim again. Narcissa was halfway through moving her wand when it happened.

POW

Narcissa screamed in agony as her right hand was blown off. She was sprayed with her own blood, but her hand was outright gone! A second later, she heard the clatter of two pieces of wood on wood and knew her wand had been destroyed as well. Screaming in agony and covered in blood she attempted to flee. She never thought twice about the annihilated China cabinet behind her, glass and pottery everywhere. As she ran, Narcissa slipped in her now-dead husband’s blood and screamed as she fell. The last thing she saw was the wand tip of Lucius, still clutched in his hand and standing erect as she fell directly on it, the wand piercing her left eye.

Voldemort was alone in the room, stalking the destructive creature called Dobby. He sidled around the room as the small house elf spun out of control and actively killed both Lucius and Narcissa. Oh well. He never liked them anyway. Suddenly, a noise came from the corner of the drawing room.

Two wizards bumbled into the room pushing and shoving each other out of the way. Lord Voldemort fired a spell at Dobby but the tip of the weapon he was so ungainly wielding caused it to ricochet. One of the wizards, Crabbe senior, by the look of it, howled in pain as the spell exploded at his feet. Dobby turned towards the sound.

POW

Crabbe senior and Goyle senior were both killed. Crabbe’s leg had been blown off by Voldemort’s spell, and as he fell, the weapon Dobby held finished him off, removing his head and blasting a hole through Goyle senior. Goyle senior was launched backwards into an expensive and old-looking cabinet that turned to matchsticks the moment his hulking body was launched through it. The Dark Lord was angry now, and he began to chase after the spinning house elf. Every time he thought he would get the drop on the meddlesome creature, Dobby managed to slip away!

“My lord! What is happening?” Wormtail spoke as he had now entered the drawing room as well. “Quickly, my lord, we must gather Nagini and leave!” he simpered as he picked up the large snake, which was coiling around him menacingly.

“No, you fool!” Lord Voldemort snapped as Dobby turned towards him.

POW

Wormtail screamed as the weapon discharged. The snake had wrapped around him and begun biting him out of fear. The pain he was sure to endure was only mitigated by the fact that the drawing room was not on the ground floor, but rather on the third story of the manor. Wormtail’s pain would be unsatisfyingly short, however, as both he and the snake were launched out of a window by the “spell” Dobby had “cast”.

Lord Voldemort screamed in rage as his snake and Wormtail exited the window and life, as they crashed to the ground below. That miserable house elf would pay! Lord Voldemort knew the creature could not be so lucky again. He was certain this time, he would make that house elf pay. The torture would be worth it; he would make the thing pay for what it did to his loyal followers. This would not stand.

“Stop this at once!” Voldemort cried as he closed in on Dobby.

“Sorry sir, Harry Potter said this might happen. He also said, to ask if the Dark Lord had been counting the shots Dobby had fired. Dobby has forgotten himself in all the excitement. But Harry Potter told Dobby, that this gun fires six rounds, sir. And that seeing as it is a,” Dobby paused to remember the line he was told. “A forty-four magnum, sir, the most powerful handgun in the world, sir. It is said it could blow your head clean off, sir. Dobby was told to ask the Dark Lord, if the Dark Lord felt lucky? Does the Dark Lord feel lucky, sir?”

Voldemort looked stunned at the house elf, not sure what to make of all the nonsense he was spouting. Surely the creature could not mean to destroy him with this weapon? It was a Muggle artifact and utterly pale in comparison to his own might.

“I do not need luck!” Voldemort’s wand came up, and Dobby discharged the weapon again.

POW

Harry Potter lay beneath the windowsill at Number 4 Privet Drive, listening to the evening news through the Dursley’s open window. A small pop on the other side of the bushes caused Harry to sit up. He was careful to avoid the windowsill as he peered over the hedges.

Dobby was on the front lawn and quickly joined Harry behind the hedges.

“It is done Harry Potter, sir.” Dobby said.

“And the gun?” Harry asked.

“Also gone, sir. Dobby wonders though, sir, was it necessary? Dobby killed people…Dobby doesn’t like killing people.”

“You did good, really good. I can finally get a good night’s rest. Thank you, Dobby.”

Dobby nodded his understanding and with a snap of his fingers disappeared again, presumably back to Hogwarts.

Harry sighed as he brushed himself off and went inside the house, climbing the stairs to his room and shutting the door behind him. He had no regrets about giving Dobby the key to his vault with specific instructions to withdraw fifty galleons, take them to Muggle London and sell them. Then, using that money, purchase, or in this case, steal, a forty-four magnum handgun and ammunition, and leave the money in the till. Using the handgun and ammo, Harry told Dobby to go and find Voldemort and use the handgun to kill him. And it worked. It turned out, the power the dark lord knew not, was in fact, a handgun and obscure late-night movie Harry had watched one Saturday after everyone had gone to bed. Best fifty galleons Harry had ever spent.