Yohannon (yohannon) wrote,
Yohannon
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It Was Probably A Mistake Writing It....

It rude, wrong, and otherwise disgusting... but a piece I had pretty much finished in late April is now fit as it's going to be. Which isn't very.

This whopper clocks in at over 6K, so I'm putting it behind a handy little cut tag. Be forewarned... it makes "Meeting Half Way" look positively tame by comparison. Yes, it's actually another piece of Harry Potter fan-fic... One I thought lost on the misplaced hard drive I discovered this week.

Dobby's Mistake

(Note: Written 4.23.2003. Finally Released Christmas 2003. What can I say, I suck.)

Notes: After writing "Meeting Half Way" almost as an accidental by-product of a late night chat session, I had concluded that it was a one-off, the only time I would explore the world of Harry Potter based fan-fic.

However, one never does know when inspiration will slam into you, usually in the form of a single mental image. In this case the image was so incredibly twisted I had to figure out if there was a way i could plausibly render it into something readable, however perverse. Just as with the first, I saw almost the entire outline in my head with only a little thought, so I knew I would HAVE to write it down and submit it to restrictedsection.org, if only to give my first piece something to keep it company.

Be forewarned: This IS seriously twisted, even by slash standards. It even began to take on a life of it's own, winding up with an entirely different ending than I originally envisioned (these things do that sometimes, and I guess I know these characters way too well!). For the curious, the original ending involved Mrs. Filch and a ball gag -- and I think the ending I wound up with was only slightly less on the sick side. If that hasn't scared you off, enjoy!

***

Harry's dreams were dark and full of foreboding, dark images of Voldemort and the Death Eaters tormenting him, the knife that cut him and drew forth the blood that brought his enemy back to the physical world stabbing into him again and again as he was held down by dementors. It was a confused muddle and not at all like the horrible dream when Harry had witnessed the murder of an innocent man by Wormtail and Voldemort, and as such didn't make much sense, though it still terrified Harry.

Suddenly Voldemort was standing on his chest, waggling the knife (inexplicably dripping green foam), chanting in a dark tongue over and over. Harry was almost certain he could understand what he was saying, and strained to make sense of it. It seemed that the sorcerer was saying "Harry Potter! Harry Potter *MUST* wake up!", which wasn't at all something that you expect a man bent on taking over the world would say. In fact it sounded a lot more like... like...

"Dobby!"

Even without his spectacles Harry could recognize his "friend" the House Elf as he stood on his chest, the last fading vestiges of his nightmare melting into the sound of Dobby's frantic whispering. For it was he who had been begging him to wake up, and in fact was still trying to rouse the young wizard, pulling at the collar of Harry's bed clothes.

"Please, Harry Potter must help Dobby! Dobby has made a TERRIBLE mistake, sir!"

"Calm down Dobby!" Harry grasped with one of his arms for his glasses whilst trying to disengage the frantic creature from his clothing, not an easy task. While in a calmer mood Dobby would never think to do anything to harm Harry... well, at least not deliberately... he was still incredibly strong, belying his diminutive size. "What on earth is the matter?! What have you done?"

Rubbing his hands together fretfully in a way that Harry hadn't seen him do since he was still in the employ (enslavement, really) of Lucious Malfoy, the Elf hopped back as Harry sat up and stood on the end of the bed, obviously painfully embarrassed. He couldn't even manage to look Harry in the eye. And even in the dim light of a subdued lantern, was that a distinct flush of pink on Dobby's pale cheeks?

"Well?" Harry was feeling more than a little cross at this point. Too many restless nights, too much responsibility thrust on the young man's shoulders had given him an edge that he would much rather not have, but he was afraid he would need if he was to survive the coming confrontations. Now this apparent mishap would take what little sleep he had.

Dobby whimpered and hid his face in his hands as he answered in a choked voice, meaning Harry could only make out one word in four. Reaching forward to pull the house elf's hands away from the creature's face, he caught the last few words that came at him in a rush:

"...andIreallyamsorrybutIhonestlythoughtIcoulddothisonespell..."

"Spell?!" The word seemed to explode from Harry involuntarily, sounding much too loudly in the Gryffindor sleeping chambers. Ronald muttered quietly from his bed, and Harry regained his composure as Dobby cowered, silenced by the sudden outburst. Harry leaned forward and whispered, his concern still giving his voice more volume than he would have liked. "Dobby, what HAVE you done?"

The reproach from Harry was more than Dobby could bear. His lip began to tremble, and he burst into tears, bawling uncontrollably.

"Dobby! Please! You'll wake everyone!"

This seemed to quiet the elf, albeit with sobs still rumbling from his scrawny neck. "Why don't we go find someplace to talk about this...in private?" Harry spoke quickly, hoping to get him away from the dormitory. He was already considering the location where he hid his father's invisibility cloak, thinking to use it to slip both himself and the distraught creature to a less populated part of the school.

"Will... will Harry Potter help Dobby?" The sad eyes were almost too much for Harry to bear. Despite the trouble that Dobby sometimes caused, his heart was always in a very good place, and Harry hated to see him suffer. "Of course... just let's go! Let me just get my cloak..."

"Oh, Harry Potter will have no need of that! If Harry Potter will follow Dobby..."

With this Dobby hopped off the bed and walked to one of the many hanging tapestries hanging off the wall of the room, and did something complicated with one of the patterns embroidered upon it. In an effect remarkably similar to a stage curtain gracefully (but quickly) ascending toward the ceiling It lifted away, revealing a passage Harry was certain wasn't there before. Leave it to a house elf to know of a secret passage that led right to Harry's room!

Wistfully considering how useful such a passage would have been previously, he followed Dobby. Despite the obvious difference between Harry's stride and the elf's he found he had to hurry to keep the elf in sight.

Harry wasn't very surprised at the odd twists and turns the hidden corridors seemed to take, defying the mental image Harry had of the interior layout of the castle. Between the structure's sheer size and magical nature, he wouldn't have been surprised if he found himself suddenly walking out onto the school's quidditch field.

Nonetheless Harry was on the verge of asking Dobby for a break when the house elf opened a wooden door that Harry was forced to stoop over to make his way through. The young wizard got the impression of a low fire and some candles, when he saw something that made him stop and stare.

At first it appeared as if a group of house elves had somehow managed to glue themselves together into a large writhing ball of house elf flesh, and that the odd noises assaulting Harry's ears were cries of outrage or moans of pain. Then his eyes adapted a bit more, and (grabbing Dobby by one arm) backed out of the chamber so quickly that he managed to bash himself a good one on the back of the head on the low overhead of the door.

"Dobby! What on EARTH did you do?!" Rubbing the spot on his head where it made contact with the door jamb, Harry could feel himself beginning to blush furiously. For what he saw was something that could only be described as a small roman orgy of house elves! Before his awkward exit he made out no fewer than 6 or 7 of the creatures... DOING things to one another.

Dobby was cowering again across the passage, his head buried in hands yet again. "Dobby, speak to me... I can't help you unless you give me some idea of how this came about!"

"Dobby... Dobby was just feeling... well, a bit lonely... and... Perhaps Dobby should start from the beginning, sir!"

It took some doing, but after some false starts (and a great deal of restraint on Harry's part not to lose his temper at the terrified elf), he had some idea of what was going on.

It seemed Dobby's long standing crush upon the female house elf Winky had become almost an obsession for Dobby. Rebuffed by her once too many times, the elf, in frustration and loneliness, decided to try brewing a love philter of some sort. The idea was that he would give it to the object of his affection, and she would be more amenable to his advances.

"Dobby, that's a right rotten thing to do to someone! It's no better than... drugging her into submission!"

Harry regretted the outburst almost as soon as he uttered it. The dejected elf was already punishing himself for his error in judgement, though perhaps for the wrong reasons. "But it didn't work, sir, at least not the way Dobby thought it would... when I gave her the philter, it made her more amenable, to be certain... but instead of loving Dobby, she became... well, to be honest sir, a lot more aggressive than Dobby intended..."

"Is that why... Well, how did the others get involved?"

"Well, it seems sir, that there's something about the potion that makes her all the more desirable..." Harry restrained from laughing at the idea of a house elf being "desirable". He thought to himself "I suppose that, to another house elf, she would be quite the catch."

Hazarding a look around the edge of the door he was now sitting beside, the boy could see Winky's head poking out from underneath several bodies, sucking an astonishingly large (especially in proportion of it's size) penis. "Where in the world do they hide such a thing when they're not using it?" Harry mused, flinching away from the thought almost as quickly as he considered it. Certainly such a member, almost as long as one of the elven legs it hung between and certainly thicker by a good margin!

Unable to tear his eyes away, Harry found himself trying to figure out how everyone was positioned. It seemed that two of the elves were between her legs, spread impossibly far apart, one angled sideways in an odd fashion... could they BOTH be... penetrating her at the same time?

The other two were draped over her torso, overlapping each other, kneeling to either side. Winky's arms and shoulders were moving in such a way that suggested her hands were busy keeping the both of them happy. "Good thing they have such big hands," Harry considered. Though what she would have done if there had been even one more house elf was a bit of a puzzler.

Shaking his head to break the spell of the scene, Harry turned back to Dobby. "Well, I suppose the first order of business is to figure out what kind of potion you made. Where did you get the formulae?

"Oh, most certainly from a book Dobby... borrowed... er..."

Harry felt a chill creep over him. "Dobby, where did you get the book from?" Harry shuddered to think of the possibilities. The restricted section of the library was one possibility, though all the books were bound, both physically (using chains) and magically to the section. It simply was never permitted for anyone to actually remove such books without the express permission (and physical presence) of a Hogwart's professor. Certainly nothing like this would be in the regular stacks of reference materials!

"Dobby was going to return it... and Dobby didn't think he would notice it missing..."

"DOBBY!" Harry took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Who did you get the book from?"

Dobby looked down and toed the dusty passage. "From... from underneath Draco Malfoy's bed, in Slytherin house..."

Harry was dumfounded. How had Draco gotten his hands on it? Then he remembered that with a father like Lucious Malfoy, anything was possible. It *was* Lucious who had Tom Riddle's "diary", the book that controlled Ginny Weasley, opening the chamber of secrets several years earlier. What could be found in the private library of such a man?

"Hold on...how did you know he had this book in the first place?"

"Dobby over-heard him talking about it with his friends. About how he planned to use it to have some fun."

Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. Draco was not above that kind of dark magic, any more than his father was. What gave him the creeps was wondering what the intended victim was. Cho? Hermione? Some other anonymous girl who may have spurned the boy's advances?

For that matter, who could say that it was a GIRL he had his eye on? Another thought he could have lived a lifetime happily not having!

He would have to think of a way to make sure that Draco was thwarted in whatever evil plot he had concocted. But for now...

Dobby had quietly slipped into the room, and was returning with a volume almost as big as he was. How Draco had managed to hide such a monster under his bed was beyond Harry's imagination, but that was besides the point at the moment.

It was a dark, oily looking tome, with a cover hinged using large hasps of some dark metal, perhaps something tarnished to a near black hue. Even the visible leaf was a mottled, mildewy grey. Touching it made Harry's skin crawl, as if he were touching a body pulled from the school lake.

It took enormous effort to simply open the thing, the cover resisting his effort to lift it. It had no title or table of contents, as if the reader was expected to know where to find what they needed.

Dobby had placed a small scrap of paper to mark the page where he had found the spell. As Harry puzzled out the ancient spidery scrawl, it became clear what had gone wrong.

"Dobby, you poor fool... this is a recipe for a potion of attraction!"

Dobby gazed at the young man, obviously confused. "But that's what Dobby needed, to attract Winky, is it not?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. But this isn't an EMOTIONAL attraction -- it's more like attraction in the magical pheromonal sense!" As Harry began to scan through the list of ingredients and instructions, it was apparent that the besotted elf had failed to realize the meaning of some of the optional commands and ingredients. "Here... I'll bet you weren't specific enough about the incantation... Never mind, let's see what the antidote entails... Oh BOTHER!"

This last was so vehement that Dobby jumped back a good three yards down the passage. "What... What is it, sir?"

"If I'm reading this correctly, the only way we can counteract this mess is if we get something along the lines of a few hairs from each of them!" Harry looked back in the room where the squirming mass had taken on yet ANOTHER configuration, with Winky riding the face of one of the males, her mouth wrapped around yet another cock the size of a small club. He had almost a direct view of her bum which was being sodomized furiously as the remaining house elves rutted against any part of her they could like pet dogs against their master's legs. "I... I suppose I can snag some of her hairs, cure her first. That should break the spell enough for everyone to get their wits back!"

Harry turned to Dobby. "I'll need you to get me some supplies Dobby. Get me a quill, some ink, and paper...scrap will do!" Dobby rushed down the hall, and quickly returned. Harry scrawled out a quick list, certain that the needed ingredients could be culled from the Hogwart's greenhouses or (in a pinch) the vast stores to be found in Snape's charms and potions labs. With a little luck the amounts were miniscule enough in comparison to what was available as to not be missed. "Can you get me all of this? PRECISELY what's here?" He hastened to add -- it would be no good if Dobby brought him a handy substitute, which would only make things worse, though he lacked the wit at this late hour to imagine what "worse" would look like.

Dobby nodded. "Dobby will not let Harry Potter down! Dobby..."

"Dobby will be on his way immediately, if not sooner, if we're going to get this settled before the whole school awakens!" interrupted Harry. With sheepish look and a snap of his fingers Dobby faded into the darkness.

Harry wished he could teleport himself away just as easily. This was not going to be a simple task, this. He could only hope that the participants of the sex crazed elves were so focussed on their rut that he could slip in and out with relative ease.

Girding himself, Harry tried to console himself with the knowledge that the house elves weren't for the most part, dangerous. Most, in fact, practically worshipped Harry for his part in improving their lot in life, elevating them from the status of "no better than vermin" to their present condition as hardworking, devoted servants... or "slaves", if you were to believe Hermione's point of view. Not for the first time Harry was struck by how little he knew about these obviously intelligent (after a fashion) creatures who possessed the kind of magical talent even someone like Lucious Malfoy, if not feared, at least respected... at least, when it wasn't under his strict and brutal control.

Harry decided to crawl in, hoping that he could get as close as possible to the group without being detected before grabbing a hair or two from Winky. Toward that end he slipped under the table in the middle of the room, the rough table cloth hanging over the edges providing some shelter from the house elves eyes, and certainly for Harry's own eye's -- it seemed like he was always finding himself the voyeur lately!

He had briefly considered returning to his room for his wand. in his haste to get the hysterical Dobby away from the room he had left it behind, under his pillow where he kept it in case he was attacked while he slept. But then he realized that it wasn't likely he could navigate his way back without Dobby's help: If something happened to Dobby it could take him hours to find his way out again. As he progressed, Harry couldn't shake the nagging thought that he had over-looked something, something important.

Distracted by this, he failed to notice that his robe pocket had caught on a out cropping of one of the rough hewn table legs until he felt it pull taut behind him, jogging the table slightly and making a quiet scraping noise. Holding absolutely still at the outside edge of the table, Harry was waiting to see if the noise had been audible over the constant symphony of moaning, slapping flesh and various wet noises when he noticed, too late, that the motion had upset something on top of the table, which was now merrily dripping onto his face.

Rolling away sputtering, Harry sat up, no longer caring if he had been heard. Whatever had been on the table was positively some of the worst smelling stuff he had been exposed to since the polyjuice potion, and that had been pretty foul. Remembering the potion made him look to the table top with a start: What if...

For the first time, two of the house elves (the ones who were frotagging themselves against Winky) looked up sharply, not directly at Harry, but sniffing the air. Slowly, they turned their gaze toward Harry.

Harry was in serious trouble! Frantically tugging at the robe in an attempt to free it, he was forced to slip out of it in hopes of getting to the door and slamming it shut.

He almost made it. Certainly quidditch had given him excellent physical reflexes, but they were no match for those of a house elf in heat, much less two. He was grabbed about both legs by one, which caused fall forward, giving the second the opportunity to jump on Harry's back.

Almost crazy with panic, Harry could feel the creature's erection against his back, the other grabbing the waistband of his flimsy pajamas and pulling downward, exposing Harry's rear to... well, to things that he would rather not think about, to be honest.

Twisting firmly, Harry managed to dislodge the one elf from his back and push the other away, but it did little good. Harry felt his legs being lifted up and apart, and without decent leverage, plus the incredibly strong grip of the male, Harry only had his arms to defend himself.

Only now those were being grabbed by the other elf! Pulled up and back, Harry could only squirm in impotence. As he tilted his head back to look at his assailant, he could only hope that he was equally so. Unfortunately, it appeared that the elf in question was all too "potent".

From that extreme perspective the elf's stiffy seemed to be bigger than the rest of him. Harry could just make out the leering grin of the normally docile servant as he steered his member toward Harry's face, his intent all too clear.

Harry quickly turned his face away, and received a sharp jab to one cheek for his trouble. He cringed at the sensation of the smear of wetness left behind, probably composed of all manner of fluids, some not the elf's own, to be sure.

With his head turned, Harry got a distinct whiff of one of creature's feet, which had been placed to either side of his head. At first Harry thought the odor was just the smell of a elven foot of doubtful hygiene. But as his head began to spin, he realized (to his horror) that the elf had to have walked through the puddle forming at the base of the table he had just escaped from!

Sure enough, Harry could see moist over-sized footprints coming from that general direction. It was only then that Harry realized what he had missed: Winky was COOPERATING with her molestation! When Dobby had applied the potion, he had probably been a bit over-generous (thus the small mob that had gathered about her), and any excess would have been transferred to the other elves...thus causing the mutual explosive attraction that he had been forced to witness since arriving.

Harry fought to retain some sense of self control. The formula was a powerful one, designed to produce attractions based on proximity and first exposure -- the amount used was as important as the specific ingredients. If he could only get a fresh breath of air, he could... he could...

Suddenly, Harry felt something surging up from his very core, a sensation that he recognized from his earlier experiences. Boosted by teenaged hormones and under use, the attraction potion had triggered an overwhelming sense of arousal, coupled with the sudden realization the house elves were, by far, the prettiest beings he had ever seen. Why hadn't he seen it before? All around him, willing to serve his every need... EVERY need...

Looking up, Harry opened his jaw as far as it would go, and accepted the offering of his diminutive lover for the first time. Unsurprised by the sudden acquiescence, the house elf started fucking the boy's mouth as if he hadn't had sex in years. It was all Harry could do to keep from gagging as it slipped down his throat, requiring him to swallow furiously to allow it as far down as it could go.

Harry suddenly felt something warm and wet rubbing against his bum, between his cheeks, and even snaking inside of him slightly. The sensation brought his already hardening penis to full attention: it could only be the house elf holding his legs! Harry was amazed at how long and powerful the tongue was, snaking slowly into him, getting in so far as to massage a spot that made Harry's dick jump with every probing flick.

When it was abruptly removed, Harry actually groaned in disappointment. However, he began to feel something else pressing against the opening, slowly spreading him open, gently, yet firmly. Harry was hard pressed to breath through his nose as the one elf was pounding his face, his smooth sack grinding into Harry's forehead with each downward thrust, so he couldn't plead with his lover to stop, that he couldn't possibly take one of those monster cocks...

Only it looked as if he didn't have any choice. Harry did his best to relax his sphincter muscles, concentrating on allowing the throbbing monster in his ass to enter. His only hope was that the hyper-aroused being would climax quickly, perhaps before it fully entered him.

Yet it was not to be. Just when he was certain he would split apart, he finally felt the groin pressed against him fully. But before he could adjust to the sensation, the elf began to pump into him furiously.

At first Harry could only shriek around the rod in his mouth, but gradually the pain began to fade, and then feelings of pleasure began. Harry had never felt anything quite like it before... but then, he had never been so full, so properly ravaged before either!

His own erection felt like it was being inflated with every inward stroke, and was now almost painfully hard. While there was nothing in the potion that should have enhanced anything physically, Harry could swear that he was larger than ever, larger than when he thought about Cho late at night when everyone else was asleep in the Gryffindor dormitory.

He almost screamed in pleasure when he felt something wrap around it wetly, stroking it tenderly. It had to be one of the other house elves, slowly sucking his member into their impossibly wide mouth. At that point he didn't care who it was, he was only grateful that it was being done.

This seemed to go on for an impossibly long time, the unlikely sensations combining to suppress his normal tendency to shoot fairly quickly... at least the first time. Waves of pleasure ebbed and flowed, centering first in his bowels, then in his crotch, then his mouth. When at last the penis in his mouth exploded what seemed like a pint of spooge, and he felt the one in his rear do likewise, he felt himself finally go over the edge into sexual nirvana, pouring himself into the eager mouth which drank him up as if not to waste a single drop.

Gasping for breath, Harry's first thought was to thank whomever his benefactor had been. With a start he realized it had been none other than Winky, still licking Harry's white fluid from one corner of her mouth as she was being pummeled from behind!

The release, instead of cooling their aggregate passion, seemed to serve only to increase their need. With no prompting or verbal communication, Winky straddled the waist of one of the males, leaning forward to suckle yet another massive penis -- her appetite for semen was unquenchable, it would seem!

Harry found himself drawn to her small, firm buttocks, now fully spread as she rode her mate. Remembering how he had been prepared, he lunged forward and began to press his tongue into her puckered anus, suddenly the most delicious treat he could desire. She was awash in previous conquests, her looseness allowing Harry to press his tongue further into her than he could imagine.

After several minutes of this he pulled himself onto her back, his dick already hardening for the task. Knowing she was already well prepped and lubed, he simply pushed into her as hard and fast as he could, her hole especially tight thanks to the occupant already in her vagina. Harry could feel his erection rubbing in tandem with the male house elf's, filling her totally.

Harry didn't object when yet another house elf stood behind him to meet his rising buttocks, grasping Harry's hips and sliding into his ass almost as easily as Harry had slipped into Winky's. The thrusting was redoubled when one of the other house elf's got behind him in turn, and began to add to the thrusting forward with his own desire.

The last elf managed to find a way to stand in front of Harry, who's better height allowed him to get his mouth well onto the sticky salty sweet wet dick. With this the whole pile was a throbbing, pulsing hive creature, sweat dripping down between them allowing them to easily to slide together.

Once again Harry could feel the pressure build, and he knew that somehow they were all sharing it, it was as it was supposed to be. Not even the Imperium Curse could have so completely crushed Harry's will as they rushed toward what was sure to be an endless dance of orgasm. Even the stray frantic thought that there was a good possibility that they would all starve to death before they would stop barely registered at the back of his mouth.

There was no telling who came first: It seemed that even as he felt another wash of fluid in his bowels he was simultaneously drinking the load of the one in his mouth, and Winky's orgasmic convulsing tightening her ass on Harry's hyper-sensitive cock milked him, pulse after pulse of liquid geysering into her willing hole. He somehow knew without thinking (he was well beyond thinking by this point) that they were all coming at exactly the same time, the moans and howls of pleasure ringing in the small chamber and his ears.

They had no sooner slumped into a happy little pile (and were already considering the next time) when Harry felt a sharp yank come from behind him, as if something had caught one of the hairs from his sparsely populated crotch. Before he could find the energy to turn around and see what had happened, he felt something that felt like a bucket of cold water being thrown over them all.

It was horrid, like waking up from a dream where you were doing something you would never consider doing in real life, only ten times worse... because they all found themselves in an amazingly compromising position, most still inserted, though almost all found themselves explosively decompressing in a combination of shock and shame. If he had the presence of mind to appreciate it Harry could almost laugh at the comical wet popping noises, though when it was your own anus someone was pulling out from a tad too hastily it was less than amusing.

***

The male elves were apparently in such a state about what had happened that they did their best to apologize profusely to Harry (though, he noted sourly, they barely thought to give Winky a second glance) and find a reason that they needed to be elsewhere. Fortunately for Dobby they didn't seem to know that he had been the one responsible for their predicament, and a couple seemed to actually be grateful for his "rescue" (though an equal number seemed to harbor a bit of regret it hadn't continued for a bit longer).

For it was Dobby who had, using the ingredients that Harry had told him to find, who had mixed the antidote. It was also Dobby who had flitted about, snatching hairs from each of them in turn, in Harry's case opting for the most accessible part (essentially reaching between two pairs of house elf legs to reach his naughty bits).

Harry wasn't quite sure HOW he felt. While it had been happening it had been wonderful, but now he felt the intense need to brush his teeth and shower for several days. He wasn't sure if the internal turmoil he was feeling would ever be washed away. The worst part there was no WAY he could ever confide in Ron and Hermione about this!

His only solace was knowing that it was the potion that was at fault. As the others left, leaving Dobby, Winky and himself, he turned to the matter at hand.

Winky had been remarkably quiet, her face impossible to read. It was quite un-nerving, considering how most house elves, particularly these two, wore their emotions out in the open -- subterfuge was not their strongest suite. "Are you... well, I suppose 'okay' isn't the right word... "

Winky looked at Harry. Not answering, she turned to Dobby, who was trying to keep his eyes raised. Dobby began to speak: "I... I'm sor..."

Before he could begin what was sure to be a long and very sincere apology, Winky slapped Dobby across his face. If the sudden motion startled Harry (it was certainly the first time he had witnessed one house elf commiting violence upon another!), it left Dobby completely flabbergasted. Before he could recover, she turned and ran from the room, the sound of her sobbing fading quickly down the corridor.

Dobby looked down, lips trembling. "Come on, Dobby... you know you probably deserved that." He put his hand on Dobby's shoulder. "Chin up! We still have some work to do."

"Whatever does Harry Potter mean?" Dobby wiped a tear that had begun to roll down one cheek.

"Well, for one thing, none of this would have happened if it wasn't for that book."

Dobby's eyes flashed. "Harry Potter is right! We must destroy it immediately!"

"No, that won't work -- Draco is certain to just turn around and look for another one. I think we need to make certain he learns his lesson somehow. At the very least, we should render the book unusable somehow. There's just one thing I need you to do..."

"Anything, sir! Once again Dobby is indebted to your greatness!"

Harry gestured toward the lower half of his body. "Help me to find where my pants have gotten to!"

***

It took some thought, but at the end Harry elected to have Dobby retrieve his wand. The spell he used left individual pages intact. but rearranged the contents in random chunks. Since almost all the spells were incredibly arcane to begin with, Harry was sure that only an incredibly experienced wizard could catch even the most obvious alterations. The "new" version of the attraction potion actually read more easily than the previous, which meant it was certain to fool Malfoy.

By the time Harry finally got back to Gryffindor, the horizon was already growing rosy with the coming dawn. However, he didn't think about sleeping until he got in the first of what was sure to be many showers over the coming days. That, and a change of bed clothes, and Harry almost felt as if the whole thing could be one of the many strange dreams he had been having of late. Almost falling asleep several times as the almost scalding water washed over his body, muscles sore and aching (inside and out), he slowly crept back to his room.

When he sat on the bed, he almost cried out, and resolved to sleep on his stomach for at the time being. He almost instantly fell into a deep (and happily dreamless) sleep.

It seemed he had barely closed his eyes when he felt himself being shaken awake. "Alright already, I'm awake!"

"You said that before, and you managed to sleep right through breakfast and right through to the afternoon!"

Harry reached out and put on his spectacles. "Ron?"

"Well, that's an improvement... the last few times you thought I was a house elf!"

That brought Harry completely awake. "A house elf? That's... odd..."

"You're telling me! You must have been having a nightmare...but never mind that now! Even if you CAN sleep right through two meals, you simply can't miss this!"

"What's happened?" Harry pulled himself up, wincing slightly. He wasn't as sore as he thought he'd be... the constant physical abuse of Quidditch had prepared him fairly well, it seemed.

"It's Draco! THey say he managed to get his hands on a restricted text... Hurry, don't bother with the tie, no one's going to notice, TRUST me on this one!"

As Harry followed his red-headed friend, hastily pulling on his shoes as he hopped down the stairs after him into the common room, Ron filling him in with a breathless rush as he went. "Anyway, they found it in his room... the whole school's in an uproar, because apparently it's a text that they won't even keep in the restricted section, not that he could have gotten it from there anyway... there's certain to be an inquiry, and Lucious Malfoy will have all that on top of his troubles, though that bloke is so slippery he might manage to deflect suspicion... but there's no where else he could have gotten it... a fat lot of good it did him!"

"Ron! What's happened?!" Harry was beginning to worry. He had been certain that none of the spells would do much more than fizzle out, and now he was worried that he might have inadvertently seriously injured someone. He may dislike Draco, but Harry wasn't the sort to wish of ill of anyone, save Voldemort or one of his minions -- though with those he could feel safely justified.

Before Ron could answer, Hermione's distinctive disapproving tone cut in. "There you are! Harry, I was beginning to think someone had cast a sleeping spell on you!"

Harry stammered and hoped that neither of them noticed the blush he could feel creeping up his neck. "No, no spells... just having a bit of trouble sleeping..."

"Well, come on! If we hurry we might catch them as they carry him from the Quidditch field."

"What... he was injured during afternoon practice?" Harry was confused. If this was a simple Quidditch mishap, common enough with any Quidditch team, (and perhaps a bit more so with Slytherin, where back stabbing was elevated to an art form) then why were his friends so eager for him to see? Certainly Harry had inflicted as much damage on Draco personally, and with a full arena watching.

As they rushed through the archway approaching the stadium the were joined by larger numbers of people. Apparently, word had spread quickly, as it usually did. Harry could almost imagine it being a form of magic, only it apparently happened at Muggle schools as well.

It was apparent that they had arrived just as Draco was being carried from the field. When he came into sight, Harry couldn't help himself, and began to laugh. Apparently, Draco had attempted the altered spell after all. He might never know who he had originally targeted, but that didn't matter now -- the spell had gone terribly wrong.

They were forced to carry Malfoy face down on the stretcher. He was screaming openly as, from beneath his Quidditch robes, a broom was doing it's best to burrow beneath. One of his team-mates was holding onto it with obvious great effort, trying to keep it from going any deeper than it already had.

Harry managed to gasp out "I always thought that Draco had a stick shoved up his backside, but this..."

Hermione stared at him, scandalized. Ron could only manage a choked "HARRY!" before joining his friend in the best laugh they had had in quiet some time.

***


It should go without saying, but this monster is copyright 2003 by Yohannon/John Halbig. All rights reserved. Various characters copyright JK Rowling, who has no idea that I'm doing this, nor would approve, and are all played by either CGI creations or actors over the age of 18. Get it? Good.
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