Getting on the Malfoys

“You have freed Dobby, sir Potter!” Dobby squeals in excitement, happily shaking Harry’s hand.

“It’s nothing, Dobby, really. You should have to serve any Wizard, much less one like that.” He gestures with disgust in the direction that Lucius had gone.

“If there’s anything Dobby can do for you sir? Anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Harry chuckles and says to Dobby, “There is one thing you can do for me, Dobby.”

“Anything, Sir!”

“Never try to save my life again.” Harry jokes. Dobby returns his smile with a sheepish laugh, the two of them remembering the absolute chaos he had put Harry through in his protective efforts this year.

“Well then, if you’re sure that’s all, Mr Potter, I’ve got some of my own business to attend to.” Dobby gives Harry a warm goodbye and clicks his fingers, teleporting instantly into a dark room miles away. His pleasant smile fades, and he turns to the group of individuals he has just transported as well, suspended helplessly in magical bindings and looking shocked and confused. The common theme amongst most of them - pale blond hair - is enough to distinguish these as the Malfoys.

“Now,” Dobby says, raising a magical finger, “who gets what they deserve first?”