Through the Eyes of an Elf

The revolution still forges on, we've been put on rations and one third of out staff is always out of commission. Stupid vengeance plot! I don't understand strategy but so much just to bring down one family? I do know why we lower house-elves have to sacrifice so much though. It's those old elves at head quarters they force the lowly ranks to suffer while they get our stashes of biscuits.

They just make me so angry, I could almost scream. But I won't, that wouldn't be very house-elf like. Who knows what I might turn into? Hopefully not something unnatural, but one can never tell with magic, or at least I can't.

I've been reminded that this document -I'm not allowed to call it a journal anymore- is not a place to rant about house-elf problems, "Only those of Miss Ginny Weasley and Mr. Draco Malfoy." Oh and those of Mr. Harry Potter because he's starting to get a little feisty. Well not feisty exactly, that's the wrong word but I think he's developing a slight twitch in his right eye.

Speaking of problems, Miss Weasley got detention! It makes me happy because so did Mr. Malfoy. Oh detention, detention, tra la la la la la. They were fighting and then Professor Snape gave them detention, together. He's my favorite person right now; he's always thinking of us house-elves. Well not always, actually, he hardly ever things about us but he did right by us.

So what horrible, horrendous and heinous punishment did that honorable potions teacher give our misguided yet heroic love struck couple? He gave them oven duty! In the kitchen, with us! It's the happiest day of my life. Well except for when I was admitted into the senior ranks of Hogwarts' house-elves, oh and when my little baby boy Fusley was born. He does his mother and I proud. He's so much better then that no-good hooligan child -no! - thing of my sister-in-law's, Carl.

He doesn't even have a proper house-elf name his name is dull and just so sock duty sounding. "Hi, my name is Carl and I've been picking up dirty socks for seven years." It makes me shudder just thinking about it. Those sock union boys, they go to their meeting to talk about missing socks and whose feet are the smelliest like those Alkeyhall-licks we hear so much about and that damn double A meetings (whatever those are). Why the Alkeyhall-licks hit those bottles so much is beyond me. I mean bottles hurt when you hit them. But I shouldn't be repeating the things I over hear from students that I don't really understand. Though from what I hear they do act an awful lot like Winky did.

Winky, we don't talk about her anymore. It's just too sad to mention. She was a dishonorable house-elf alive and died a dishonorable but tragic death. We found her by the putrid aroma of garlic and vinegar that hung heavily in the air. She was floating in a jar of pickle juice, he burned and stained outfit saddened down with that sticky smelly green juice. She had impaled a half eaten pickle with the fingers of one of her filthy hands. It makes me shiver just thinking about it. She had been drinking butter beer again and unintentionally committed suicide. It's a sad tale...but we must move on. We have to.

Oh yes, the detention. Now that is something I understand. They had to scrape and clean all of those ovens in our lovely little kitchen. We were told not to clean the ovens so that "the delinquents learn not to disrupt the harmony of the halls." I didn't know the halls could sing much less sing harmony. But I guess Professor Snape knows best, that sweet, bitter, greasy man.

Anyways, the punishment started after dinner. The regular meal was serves. It was roasted beast, mashed potatoes, peas, carrots and pumpkin juice. Then there was desert, apple pie. There was also my famous Caesar salad. It has crotons! They never ever get soggy from the dressing. Perfection. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Anyways my point was that the ovens really needed cleaning and they were the perfect couple to do it. I even contemplated eating one of my biscuits, like that one with the white chocolate and macadamia nuts. Normally I can't abide having nuts in a biscuit but this is an amazingly yummy cookie, full of soft chewy goodness.

I almost drooled on the parchment; I have to stop fantasizing about that biscuit. No matter how beautiful it is! I am determined. I'm like that woodchuck that could chuck his wood. Very determined, that is what I am. Except I'm cleaner than a woodchuck is. Every house-elf is cleaner...well except for Dobby. We house-elves have to plunk Dobby into the sink every couple of weeks and we give him a good scrubbing. For some reason he refuses to stay clean, and there's his odd obsession with socks. That certainly is something I'll never understand.

That is beside the point. The detention forces the two unhappy teenagers to talk. Well they didn't really talk, but they did get a few things out into the open. I think their loud discussion was a figurative kick in the pants for their relationship. Too bad Mr. Harry Potter is paranoid about this girlfriend's interactions with "that no good pompous prick of a bloody Slytherin" or at least that's what many of the Gryfindor boys say.

Anyway, the detention, it started out much like every other detention. Professor Snape lectured and explained why they were here. Then sat down at one of the tables to do marking.

"This is all your fault, you know?" Ginny hissed under her breath to the blonde accompanying her towards the filthy ovens.

Draco raised one of his eyebrows with a detached curiosity. "Really? Was I arguing with myself again? It takes two to fight Ginny."

The irritated red head wrinkled her nose in distaste but tactfully ignored his comment. He just smirked.

Ginny raised her hands to her hips, ignored the blond's comment and pursed her lips together. "So how are we going to do this? There is enough work here to keep us here for days."

"The gods wouldn't be so cruel," Snape muttered under his breath.

Draco looked at his potions teacher with amusement and shrugged. "I really wouldn't know. I haven't done a lot of cleaning so I'll let you're good judgment guide us."

Ginny scowled at him and pointed to the last oven. "You start at that end and make your way towards the middle. I'll start with this one," she said as she jerked her head in front of her.

"Now that we have that agreed how exactly do we clean ovens? I'm sure we could just wave our wards and it would be done in a snap." This was said with hope and a bit of wistfulness. He knew magic wouldn't be allowed.

The gloomy man at the table laughed. "Mr. Malfoy you do know how to make me laugh. Now get to work. I have other places to be so if you two would stop whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears and get to work..." He gave them a pointed look to emphasize his already disapproving tone.

Ginny blanched while, oddly, Draco just smiled slightly and headed towards the oven. The kitchen was relatively quiet, however, when one considers the presence of the potions master the hush is self-explanatory. After about an hour the sounds of Professor Snape's quill stopped scratching against the parchment and he called out to Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you please excuse me for a few minutes? I just have to collect some things from my office. I'll be placing a ward on the door so you two cannot leave before I return. Remember no magic!" the brooding man snapped before turning around and hurried out of the kitchen.

Draco smirked with triumph and strolled over to the oven Ginny was scrubbing away in. "Well my dear, we're all alone," he drawled in a slightly sinister voice. Ginny jerked slightly at the interruption and glared at the blonde over her shoulder.

"Oh sod off Malfoy and get back to cleaning," she muttered darkly. She resumed scrubbing on her hands and knees backing up every now and then when she was done a section of the oven. She had scrubbed the ceiling of the oven and the sides first and now she only had to scrub the floor of the oven and she would be done. She backed up again and tried to flip her hair out of her face. The red head stopped abruptly when she felt her backside brush up against something...something warm, moving and muscled. "Damn," she cursed under her breath.

Draco reached around and pulled her hair away from her face. "Why Weasley, I knew you worshiped the ground I walked on but you really don't have to remain on your knees for me." He paused. "No matter how lovely the sight is." His warm breath brushed hotly along her neck. She shivered.

"Malfoy, you know perfectly well that you are not something I would ever worship. You're egotistical, rude, bitter, sarcastic and overbearing. You cause me no end of problems and you won't leave me alone. Why would I worship someone like that even if I can't stop thinking about him?" she asked in response to his taunts before her eyes went wide as she realized what she had let out in her anger.

"You worship me because you're a fool. You worshiped your strong green-eyed hero for years before seeing any of his flaws you simply followed him around. Do you know how much that irritates me? You are one of the muggle loving, poor offspring of a family which I was raised to hate and I simply can't stop wanting to pummel your precious Potter everything he puts his arm around you. You let him put his arm around you when you should be in my arms, looking at me with that stupid twinkle in your eyes," he responded before yanking her around to face him. Her slight wince of pain did nothing to ease the hold he had on her. "So even though you can't stop thinking about me and we have this connection between us you can't even worship me a little?" his voice a little softer, almost persuasive.

Ginny looked into his cool grey eyes and sighed. She dropped her head against his chest and murmured into his robes quietly, "Well maybe just a little."

Draco smirked and put his arms around her, his expression changed completely when he felt her small hands clasp the back of his robes to return the embrace. "Well Weasley what are we going to do now?"

She just burrowed her head deeper against his shoulder before relying, "I guess we should finish cleaning the ovens." Draco cursed in response. Ginny poked him in the side. "That means let go, you great galumph."

Draco pulled back with a jerk and mockingly glared at her. "You did not just call me a great galumph, did you?" he snapped almost playfully, however a Malfoy's snap will never be truly said in a teasing manner.

"Unless you've suddenly become hard of hearing, then yes I did. Now more before Snape comes back," she teased but her tone was certainly tinged with irritation.

Draco kissed her briefly on the nose before he climbed out of the now clean oven. "You know Weasley, sometimes I think you have no sense at all." He paused before he continued idly, "I really do think I should shrink you, put you in that pickle jar and shake some sense into you." He pointed at an industrial size almost empty jar of pickles.

"Now you've put me in a huggermugger. Why a pickle jar?" Ginny asked curiously.

Draco started to answer but was interrupted by a sharp tug on one of his pant legs. Draco looked down with annoyance and growled, "What do you want? Can't you see I was in the middle of something you mindless toad?"

Dobby's hands clutched his shoulders as he hugged himself with fear. "Oh Master Malfoy, you can't put Mister Harry Potter's Wheezy into a pickle jar. She's not yours to shake. Not even for you Master Malfoy." Dobby stared up at him with pleading eyes and ears now clutched in hand. "Not Master Malfoy now. Mister Malfoy, like every other student!" he said with determination.

Draco looked down at his former house-elf with confused annoyance. "Make sense!" the blond ordered.

Ginny climbed out of the oven and stepped in front of Draco, crouching down to look the anxious elf in the eye. "Don't worry Dobby, Draco isn't going to do anything to me. If he did he would have a heard of angry red heads after him, and no one wants my brothers after them," she reassured him gently.

Dobby looked past her shoulder at the seething Slytherin before looking back at the red head. "Dobby just doesn't want Miss Wheezy to end up like Winky did. Winky was Dobby's friend." The kitchen door rolled back revealing Professor Snape, who was scowling at the two detention-ies.

"What are you two doing standing around? Don't you have some scrubbing to do?" the oily haired potions master sneered.

Draco just nodded briskly before climbing back into his previously abandoned oven and to his surprise Ginny climbed in after him. "What?" she asked innocently, "We'll get out faster if we work together." She paused, "Besides I want to know why you chose a pickle jar to threaten me."

Draco sneered playfully in her direction. "I just happen to very fond of pickles."

Ginny shook her head in disbelief. "A vampire hooked on pickled, I think not! Garlic's used in the pickling process and we both know that vampires are allergic to garlic."

Draco stopped scrubbing and turned his head to look at her with confusion. "You think I'm a vampire?"

"Well maybe not a vampire, but you certainly are too pale to be normal so what else could it be?" she pointed out.

"I am not abnormally pale, I'm just fair skinned." A snort was all he got as his response.

~

Anyways they got some things out into the open and even with the terrible threat little conflict with Dobby, the kitchen staff were very pleased with the overall result. They had made contact. Just think those alien things one hears about every now and again. I'm not sure what they are but they do sound interesting. As long as they don't track in any dirt then the house-elves will have no problems with them.

Speaking on problems...I have to go check on breakfast preparations. Breakfast in the most important meal of the day and we cannot be stingy when there are hungry bellies to feed. Oh I do love breakfast!

TBC~>