Padfoot's Puppies

PADFOOT'S PUPPIES

04: Dobby's Debt

"Payment...?!? So you think house-elves should be paid, do you...?"

The small, toad-faced witch flourished her wand most menacingly at the good-natured house elf clad in a sock and a pair of child's pants. Her normally deceivingly sweet voice was fraught with an outraged hiss that mirrored the true nature behind her deceptively dulcet exterior.

The house elf was still standing his ground. "Please Madam, Dobby only seeks to work for good wizard and be paid for it." His eyes rounded pleadingly and he held his hand out in hopeful appeal.

The toad-faced witch was definitely having none of this. This upstart of a house-elf was right down there with filthy little half-breeds that had to be exterminated. She was going to have to see about new legislation to nip this contamination among house-elves right in the bud. It would be another vital addition to add to her proud portfolio of anti-werewolf, anti-Muggle and anti-anything that did not uphold the name of pureblood. But right now, exterminating this filthy house-elf took priority, and she already had years of experience in exterminating filthy non-pureblood things.

She flourished her wand even higher in the air. Her triumphant eyes bulged exactly like a toad's and her voice was now utterly devoid of the hissing:

"Here is your payment, you disgusting little house elf! Avada-EEKKK!"

The toad-faced woman's killing curse was broken off half-way as an enormous black dog suddenly leapt between her and the disgusting house-elf. It was Prongsy, barking in his most outraged manner whenever he saw some nasty bullying human. But the toad-faced woman wasn't to know it was just Prongsy, of course. Her purple mottled face blanched white, then green as she shrieked: "GRIIIMMM!"

She shot back into the house in a panic and slammed the door. From within the depths of her house, her yelps of "Grim! Grim!" could still be heard fading down the passage.

Dobby was staring in wide-eyed wonder at this strange Grim which was still growling and barking indignantly at the door, and making the toad woman retreat even further down her lily pad. The Grim's growling finally quelled and it turned to lick Dobby in friendly triumph.

"You want to save Dobby?" The elf breathed in astonished wonder. "You is Grim and you save Dobby?"

Prongsy just wagged his tail and barked triumphantly. Prongsy had no idea what "grim" was supposed to be or why being "grim" scared magic people so much, even when they approached magic people in the most friendly, cute puppy-dog manner in the hopes of something to eat. Still, the pack had long since learned that scaring magic folk because they were "grim" did have its advantages. Prongsy had taken great delight in scaring magic folk as a diversion while Midnight, Nimbus or Firebolt whipped into a wizard residence to swipe some from the wizard's kitchen. More often, however, it was a quick way to scare off unwanted attention from wizard folk, particularly the ones that looked like they were from the "Ministry". This toad woman, for example, had "Ministry" smelling all over her - and she smelt far too repulsive for a toad, too.

However the puppies were most delighted that here at last was a magic creature who wasn't scared of them for being "Grim" Dobby soon found himself approached cautiously by a pack of Grims which sniffed at him gently for a few moments. When they found that he wasn't going to run away from them for being "grim" they mobbed to lick him like a true friend.

Dobby, however, was still a bit too overwhelmed to pet them. "You save Dobby?" He mouthed over and over. "You is Grims, and you save Dobby?" Tears finally welled up in his great bulbous elf eyes and he wept, his tears intermingling with the eager, commiserating licks from the puppies.

It was a very long time before poor, sobbing Dobby could calm himself down enough to speak to the puppies. Not since Harry Potter tricked Lucius Malfoy into giving him the sock that had set him free had anyone helped him against repression or shown him any kindness. Everywhere he had turned, doors had been slammed in his face. Not only was he a dismissed house-elf, but he was actually daring to ask for payment. That was unthinkable, an unspeakable, outrageous thing for a house-elf to demand. Even his own fellow house-elves were shunning him for asking for such a simple thing. But now, here was kindness from the Grims themselves, the legendary heralders of death in the wizard world...or were they?

As he began to calm down, it slowly filtered into Dobby's mind that these weren't Grims. They were just dogs, like the sort you see roaming in Muggle streets. But as Dobby looked at them more closely, he realised they were not Muggle dogs, either. They were wizard dogs! Not Animagi, or animals with magic properties like Hippogriffs or Hinkypunks - just wizard dogs.

Dobby overwhelmed into sobs once more as he realised that here were more wizards ready to help him, treat him like a friend, an equal, not like a low house elf that was even lower than the rest for wanting to be paid. The puppies overwhelmed him too, by smothering him with even more fervent commiserating licks and nuzzles.

It was a long time before Dobby could bring himself to speak once more. "You is such good dogs. You help Dobby! How can Dobby repay such good dogs?" He wept as he reached out to pet the dogs, all twelve fighting furiously for his affections.

"Can Dobby repay such good dogs? How can Dobby repay dogs?" Dobby gibbered over and over.

It was Tonksy who finally seized the opportunity. "We want to go to Hogwarts." Tonksy & Co. could only communicate with yaps, but there was an undefined telepathy between magic creatures that enabled Dobby to understand enough. "You want to go to Hogwarts?" Dobby's eyes bobbled with excitement, his ears twirled and he clapped his hands. "Yes, Dobby likes Hogwarts! Dobby takes good dogs to Hogwarts!"

The puppies' tails were even more excited than Dobby.

"Good dogs meet Harry Potter!" And Dobby turned a wild somersault of joy as he yelped, "Dobby sees Harry Potter again!"

The puppies had no idea who Harry Potter was. Still, if this nice elf wanted to see Harry Potter, then Harry Potter must be nice, so they wanted to see him too - especially if this Harry Potter was at this Hogwarts place. They all mobbed Dobby and yelped in far greater excitement than they had ever known.

Meanwhile, a still somewhat shaken Umbridge was greeting the great pure-blood, Lucius Malfoy, who had just arrived by Floo. The sighting of the Grim must not deter Dolores Jane Umbridge from the vital affairs of State such as ensuring that her precious Anti-Werewolf Act against was properly enforced. Pushing that house-elf legislation through was still a high priority but right now she had to make sure her anti-werewolf legislation was enforced more forcefully than ever now that insufferable Dumbledore was letting a werewolf teach at Hogwarts. The Ministry had been obliged to tolerate such an appointment because that werewolf was such a vital component in the capture of Sirius Black. But really, such a thing was utterly outrageous - and the consequences didn't bear thinking about. If a werewolf was allowed to teach, or even worse - get an Order of Merlin if he should be so instrumental in the recapture of Black - it would open the floodgates. Before you knew it, there would be werewolves getting jobs, banging at the Ministry doors demanding equal rights with other wizards...there would be werewolves in the Ministry next. And then (oh, horrors!) a werewolf for Minister!

Well, not if the mighty pureblood champion Dolores Jane Umbridge had anything to do with it. She would make sure that this disease was nipped in the bud. The first thing she would do was make sure there was a clause added to her Anti-Werewolf Act that no werewolf could be awarded an Order of Merlin or any other form of decoration. Yes, she thought smugly - that would stop this werewolf becoming a hero and stymie any of his chances of being a figurehead for any campaign for werewolf rights. For good measure, she would make sure that this werewolf would receive the Kiss, or at the very least sent to Azkaban. She had been pouring over the reports of the werewolf's long association with Black. She had paid particularly close scrutiny to the report regarding Professor Snape's misgivings about appointing the werewolf. This was not because he was a werewolf (though that was a serious circumstance indeed), but because he was concerned that the werewolf could be a potential accomplice for Black. Now that sounded most promising...her toad-face spread into a most malicious grin. Now if she could pin a charge of conspiracy on the werewolf for aiding and abetting Black. If she could pull this off, it would discredit Dumbledore to perfection. She and her Minister had been growing concerned over the threat Dumbledore posed to his Ministry. It was only a matter of time before Dumbledore would openly make his move to oust Fudge and make himself Minister. But if it could be established that Dumbledore had made an appointee who was not only a werewolf, but had been aiding and abetting the notorious mad murderer who had managed to escape from Azkaban...Dumbledore would not only be a complete laughingstock, but would be utterly discredited for putting the Boy Who Lived - not to mention all the students of Hogwarts - in such easily avoidable danger.

The trouble was how to pin this charge of conspiracy on the werewolf. It was, of course, quite possible that the werewolf really was helping Black - but Umbridge had to be absolutely sure he would go down for such a charge. The question was how to make sure the werewolf went down without leaving any trace of Ministry interference.

And this was where Lucius Malfoy was coming in.

Like herself, Lucius had been expressing deep concern over the appointment of the werewolf. He had been following the hunt for Sirius Black at Hogwarts with the utmost attention and he, too, saw the potential threat of the werewolf to the anti-werewolf and other half-breed laws they had worked so hard to instil. And Lucius, too, was quite intrigued with the possibility of using a charge of conspiracy to discredit the werewolf - and through him, that upstart Dumbledore. Lucius, Umbridge knew, had been most anxious to get rid of Dumbledore and his outrageous ideas about letting Mudbloods into Hogwarts, giving people - even werewolves - second chances, disapproving their pureblood eugenics and goodness knows what else he had in that crazy head of his...sometimes, some of her pureblood friends said, they thought that Dumbledore was as mad as Black.

Lucius had just arrived by Floo and was obliged to brush himself off with cold, bruised dignity. But Umbridge hastily stopped him, and summoned her house-elf to dust off the great Lucius Malfoy. No decent pureblood should have to stoop so low. That was for house-elves like her faithful little Dinky - not, she thought with rancour, that insolent house-elf who had dared to ask for payment.

Now that Lucius' Floo-blown toilette was suitably attended to, he now sat down with Umbridge over a good decent pot of tea (Lucius was more given to cognac, but thought it more polite to defer to tea at this stage) while they sat down to discuss their common situation.

They had only scarcely finished discussing the situation that had brought them to the table when there was an odd scratching noise down the passage. Umbridge frowned in annoyance at the interruption.

Umbridge was more than slightly annoyed seconds later when that Grim stood snarling and growling in the doorway. Saliva lashed menacingly from its bared teeth and dripped like blood on the floor. Umbridge shook and blanched as her toady face reeled in horrified recognition. Lucius Malfoy stood rigid, taking the Grim's measure.

Of course, Prongsy wasn't really meaning to be so menacing. It was only a bluff, gambling high on that strange thing that these wizards seemed to have about "Grims". It was necessary to scare these wizards if Dobby's plan was to work.

Prongsy took a pace or two further forward, not once letting up on his growling. It was certainly working on the toad-faced woman. Unfortunately the wizard was only taken aback by the Grim. Apparently he was made of sterner stuff - namely, perhaps, that stuff that his heart was made out of. In any case, his lip started curling in a manner that was even more menacing than anything Prongsy could come up with. The wizard's hand gently reached for his wand then he whipped it out like a rapier.

Prongsy's snarling abruptly died in a faint growl.

The wizard stepped forward. His wand shot forward into the air as he charged the words "Avada Ked-GAAAGGHHH!"

A black streak had shot forward and embedded its jaws into Lucius' leg like a limpet mine. It was not often that the great and mighty Lucius Malfoy found himself in pain - or shed any tears - but on this occasion he was howling tearfully as real blood now dripped from Prongsy's jaws as they continued to sink even more firmly into Lucius' dignified leg.

Nobody can say how many moments it took before Prongsy decided that he had enough of the wizard's leg. He released his jaws and poor Lucius shrieked and staggered. Since Dinky wasn't about (too busy organising the tea and cauldron cake) the mighty Umbridge had to sacrifice her dignity and cradle the honourable Lucius over her tiny toad-like shoulders as she heaved him out of the room. She was to sacrifice her dignity even further in the other room as she found herself a nursemaid (it seems a more fitting term than Healer) to the howling, indignant Lucius Malfoy.

Prongsy now barked his signal for the other dogs to enter the room, with Dobby in the lead. Dobby hastily groped for the pot containing the Floo powder and flung it into the flames. The puppies yelped as the flames sparked emerald green. Then they howled in panic and horror as Dobby stepped into the flames.

"Nice dogs get in fire! Nice dogs get in fire! Fire will not hurt!" Dobby urged frantically, pumping his arms frantically to beckon them into the flames.

The puppies still hesitated until Midnight's ears pricked. "The toad witch is coming back!"

It was then that the puppies all leapt desperately into the fireplace, cramming themselves in so hard that there was scarcely any room for twelve half-grown Padfoot puppies to budge. They had barely time to whine and growl at the discomfort when Dobby called:

"Hogwarts, good wizard Dumbledore's room!"

It might have seemed strange that Dobby wasn't calling out for a place where Harry Potter would be instead. But for once Dobby was figuring right. In view of what Umbridge and his master had said (Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! Bad - oh wait, that wizard was not his master anymore!) it would be better to go to Dumbledore.

The puppies scarcely had time to see the toad-faced woman staring at a whole gaggle of Grims in her Floo fireplace before she and her foul little home disappeared as the green flames burst. The puppies felt themselves being yanked into some enormous suction like that frightful bulldog woman's vacuum cleaner. They would have howled in terror and panic but they were swirling too fast in some terrific tornado that was shooting them along the nooks and crannies of a whole assortment of fireplaces...

Until, coughing, panting, foaming and covered thick with chimney grime that made them all look even grimmer than usual, the puppies shot out into a dishevelled, whining, soot-smoking heap in Dumbledore's office.

And looming quizzically over the jumble of grimy dogs was the genial, resplendent figure of Dumbledore. Dumbledore had been most surprised, and instantly intrigued, to see a pile of Grims suddenly flooing into his office.

Dobby's muffled moans came from somewhere underneath the pile:

"Good dogs get off Dobby? Good dogs get off Dobby?"

So Dumbledore kindly proceeded to disentangle the pile of disconcerted dogs and rescue a most grateful Dobby from somewhere below.