From Rags to Quiches

The wind howled loudly outside Malfoy Manor, deafening Draco and the house-elves around him. This was an especially cold night in Cork, one filled with darkness and mystery, which would usually amuse, if not delight, the young Malfoy. But this night, with its strong winds and large hailstones, was proving to be one of a less joyous type.

The lightning that flashed near the window served to make all the elves jump again and quiver with fear.

"Master Draco," exclaimed Foppy, the largest of the elves, "we would like to request the night off, sir!"

Draco narrowed his eyes meanly and lay back on his bed. "No," he replied in a commanding tone, "you will give me my weekly pedicure now!"

"But sir..."

"Get out the file, damn it! I don't want to hear another complaint!"

The six elves scurried around, collecting the supplies necessary for the pedicure. It was only then that Draco noticed something stuck to the back of Foppy's tea cosey. It was circular and a light peach colour.

"Foppy," Draco said slowly, "is that a cookie on your cosey?"

"Er...no, sir?"

Draco whipped out his wand and grabbed at the oatmeal cookie on the cosey. Foppy squealed and jumped to canopy of the bed.

"Why the bloody hell are you disobeying me, you stupid bat?!"

"I is not a bat!" Foppy sobbed. "Fobby is not a ba-a-at!"

Draco rolled his eyes, aiming his wand at the elf. Foppy's eyes widened and he stopped crying instantly. "Accio cookie!" Draco yelled. The cookie tore itself from the tea cosy and Fobby lost his balance. The attacking wizard caught the offending sweet and nibbled on it ever-so-gracefully. "Hm, not too bad, for oatmeal."

He did not notice when Foppy swayed dangerously atop the silk canopy. Nor did he notice when the little elf dropped to the hard stone floor of the bedroom. It was not until the female elves started yelling that he noticed what had gone wrong.

"What's going on here?!" he roared suddenly, and upon seeing Fobby laying in a broken heap on the stones walked over and picked up his small servent. The look in the elf's eyes was one of pure rage, but Draco chose to ignore it. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"$#%* you, stupid mother-$#%*er!"

Draco clucked his tongue and dropped Foppy. His colleagues gathered around him, gathering him up and carrying him out of the door. He looked back, half dead, and said the one sentence that his belligerent master would henceforth learn to fear:

"Foppy will get you, my pretty, and your little rag doll, too!" With that, the short creatures disappeared around the corner and Draco slammed the door shut.

Usually, he found no reason to fear any of his elves. But nobody was willing to insult Annika needlessly. He grabbed the rag doll from under his pillow and hugged her close, fear coursing through his bones. Nobody was allowed to touch her, much less inflict any harm upon her. Nobody--not even that stinking elf.

** ** **LATER THAT NIGHT** ** **

The wind was still howling. But this time, it was an ominous sound. Draco turned over in bed, clutching Annika closer to his body. The elf, though just a menial servant, had spoken words that frightened him in the deepest reaches of his heart. Of course, that could also have been due to the stale oatmeal cookie, but he knew for a fact that Foppy's insanity was not to be taken lightly.

What had the elf meant, though, when he had made his threat? Did he mean to kill Draco or destroy Annika? Certainly, if Annika was a target, Draco's wand would have something to say about it.

Draco, as far as he knew, was the only 6^th year, even among the girls, that slept with a doll. But this had special meaning to it, as his aunt, Bellatrix, had gifted it to him on the day of his birth. Were any harm to befall his precious possession, well, Draco didn't think he could continue with life.

Thunder clapped and lightning struck, and Draco sobbed. He turned bloodshot eyes to his grandfather clock and saw, with growing fear, that the time was nearly midnight.

Little did he know that when the hands both reached twelve, and the clock did so many times chime, his life would change forever, and not in that feel-good, family-drama, happy days kind of way.