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Elves Without Clothes	By : NoThyme Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 3581 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
I still don’t own Hermione, Draco or any of their other friends in J. K. R.’s world. On the other
hand, if Snape wanted to own me, I’d allow it.

WARNING: If you haven’t noticed by now this story is still full of silliness and sexual innuendo .
. . Oh, and perhaps a bit of cursing, magical and otherwise. It is all tongue-n-cheek meant in good
fun.

AN: While interacting with Draco, Hermione’s thoughts will be in italics, like this: -Draco is a
prat - and what she actually says will be in quotes like usual, “As you wish Master.” The original
plot bunny only called for this to be a drabble at best . . . oops, plot bunnies gone wild.

                &#                                                       ***

Ch.4. Consequences ~

Hermione worked hard while Draco was gone. She cleaned her master’s rooms till they were
spotless. If this was to be her only punishment for the incident with the spell, she was going to be
sure to do it right. Well not only punishment if you counted the Charms book he lent her. It was
one she had read several times before and was far beneath her skill level. She was disappointed by
the knowledge that her master may think so little of her skill. Perhaps her worst fears were
correct and it wasn’t the fault of the spell but her own lack of skill that caused the problem that
morning. She desperately hoped that wasn’t the case.

She went through his closet piece by piece with freshening and de-wrinkling charms. His shoes
and boots were now all freshly polished and lined up in a neat row on the floor beneath the robes
they coordinated with. Hermione hoped he would be so satisfied with the job she did that he
wouldn’t change his mind and send her away.

She wasn’t sure when it happened or how to describe it exactly, but she thought she was
beginning to understand Winky, just a little.

          㼠160;                                                            ***

During her lunch break she had a visit from the Headmaster. He was most curious to see how
things were going for his newest house-elf. More importantly he wanted to know how Draco and
Hermione were getting along . . . was it possible this may help the house rivalry situation as he
had planned? He certainly hoped so. If it worked for one it may work for more, but then a
willingness to serve was harder to find within wizards and witches raised with knowledge of
magic, but still there was still hope.

He noticed Ony no longer seemed as acutely aware of hnusunusual garments and was comfortable
moving about in her master’s rooms. Dobby had reported that she was settling in quickly and she
no longer flinched when called by her new name.

“Professor Snape tells me you and Mr. Malfoy had a little problem this morning. Would you care
to tell me about it?”

Hermione shifted nervously in her seat. She knew the Headmaster as well as Professors Snape
and McGonagall had been purposefully excluded from her secrecy protocols for her own safety,
but the thought of telling him about her morning still made her edgy. She hadn’t had access to the
library since the start of Christmas holiday and had yet to learn what it was the spell did to her
master. She knew she could get in big trouble for whatever had happened and was growing
nervous due to the timing of the Headmaster’s visit.

She started softly, willing away the tears that threatened whenever she thought about what she
had done. “Master Draco asked me to cast a spell, for his hair . . . I had never heard of it before,
but he assured me it would be safe. By the time I realized it must be the wrong spell, it was
already too late . . .”

“What did the spell do Ony?” the Headmaster asked. He was growing concerned about her
emotional state.

“I don’t know, sir. Master wouldn’t tell me or let me help him. I haven’t been able to go to the
library to research it either, and am not quite sure where I would even start to look,” she admitted
sadly. She was sitting hunched over wringing her hands in the sheet she wore. It was becoming a
nervous habit.

“Perhaps I can explain it if you could tell me what spell it was . . .”

It was on the tip of her tongue almost before the Headmaster had finished asking. “Master said it
was Densare-Durabilis-Exstructio,” she said nervously.

The Headmaster’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and his cheeks shown pink behind his silver
beard. The twinkle in his eye increased tenfold as he swallowed back a chuckle and responded,
“for the answer to that child, I’m afraid you’d best ask Draco.”

A frown marred her features. She blinked the wetness from her eyes appearing even sadder than
before. Could it be that bad that no one would dare speak of it? “Am I going to get in trouble?”
she asked finally, looking very house-elfish despite her human form.

Dumbledore shook his head and a small smile made his eyes appear even brighter. “No Ony, you
most certainly will not be punished for that.”

She relaxed slightly although she couldn’t stop wondering what that spell did.

                                                                        ***

In a meeting earlier that morning Professor Snape had voiced his displeasure with the whole
situation. He didn’t truly understand what the Headmaster expected to come of the arrangement
and could see the many flaws in the plan. Most obvious he phe potions master was the threat to
Hermione’s physical and psychological well being. Surely being enslaved by one so cruel as the
young Malfoy could cause serious psychological damage. Perhaps he could use a little leverage
as his Head of House to assist the naive girl.

                               #160#160;                                       ***

When Draco returned from shopping his bags were full of gifts and his mind was whirling once
again. Would his cheeks ever retain their normal pallor in Ony’s presence? If he blushed this bad
without her knowing of the spell’s effects, how bad would it be once she knew? He vowed to
stop thinking about it and get into the Christmas spirit.

Draco set down his bags and called for his house-elf. Ony appeared moments later holding the
Charms book that he had leant her. “Are you finished that already?” he asked not believing it
possible.

“Yes Master. Thank you for allowing me to read it,” she politely replied. -Perhaps something
from the restricted section next time -

One look around the room confirmed that Ony hadn’t neglected her duties, she must just read that
fast. “Why aren’t you in Ravenclaw? Anyone who loves books like you do, would certainly have
done well there.”

“The hat had considered Ravenclaw,” Ony admitted shyly, “but it decided I would do better in
Gryffindor.” -Think I’m all brains? Would’ve thought this morning would disprove that theory -
“Could I get you something Master?”

“Yes, set these bags in the closet and bring me some tea.” His mind quickly drifted to the
contents of the bag and he rethought his order. “Er- on second thought I’ll take care of the bags.
You just bring the tea.”

“Yes Master.”

Ony to to the kitchen and fetched the tea for Draco, the whole time thinking about her master
and how it was being his house-elf.

                                                                        ***

Draco spent most of the remaining hours of the day avoiding his house-elf. He could blame it on
anything he liked, but he couldn’t lie to himself . . .

When Ony brought him his tea, she asked about the spell. She wanted to know if he had
recovered thoroughly and asked again what the spell had done. He was so embarrassed by the
memory that he decided to avoid the situation once again. He ordered her to wrap his purchases
and ask no more questions.

Sadly she complied. -How am I supposed to know who these go to? -

Ony sat quietly on the floor of her master’s chamber wrapping his purchases, shifting occasionally
when the cold stone became uncomfortable.

Draco tried not to watch as Ony squirmed uncomfortably on the floor, completely unaware that
she was giving him brief glimpses of her knickers.

- Why does he keep looking at me like that? Draco must not trust me at all anymore -

Draco growing increasingly uncomfortable, got up and fled the room.

                                                                        ***

That evening Draco’s dreams were filled with big brown eyes, soft lips and bushy brown hair . . .

In the morning he tried to lay the blame on chocolate, the spell, the incredible book selection in
Hogsmeade . . . anything but Ony! “I am not falling for a house-elf,” he said to the empty
chamber.

Draco’s day was spent flying, and working with Professor Snape in his private lab, anything to
avoid Ony. He had thought about having a chat with the Headmaster, but after getting a look at
the twinkle in his eyes at breakfast he fled to the furthest corner of the dungeon.

Hermione however did not have the luxury of a day of leisure. In his efforts to quell his
wandering thoughts, Draco decided to rely on the old adage ‘out of sight out of mind.’ Draco
had assigned her a list of tasks assured to occupy her late into the night, and he specified “no
magic.”

Ony on the other hand, was unaware of the reason she was being kept so busy. She sadly
assumed that Draco had finally decided to punish her for the mishap with the hair spell. With that
in mind she worked very hard to show her master how sorry she was.

After a long day spent scrubbing and polishing her master’s rooms and possessions on her hands
and knees, Ony was exhausted. Her last thought as she dragged herself to bed was, -I hope my
master doesn’t want his pillows fluffed -

                                                                        ***

Draco didn’t see Ony again till Wednesday morning. It was Christmas eve day and he was to
spend it at Malfoy Manor with his parents. Normally he would have spent the entire holiday with
his family, but when the Headmaster mentioned the possibility of having his own house-elf for the
holidays he could hardly turn him down. So it was decided, he would be accompanied to the
manor by Professor Snape, who normally visited for Christmas dinner anyhow.

It was quiet Draco decided after much contemplation. Something seemed different as they went
about their morning routine, and Draco finally decided it was the quiet. He hadn’t had much to
say to Ony this morning after another far-cry-from-dry dream. He was mortified when he realized
that Ony was going to be the one changing those sheets.

Ony seemed to be following his example and went about her chores in silence. Perhaps Ony is
angry about all the work I had her do yesterday, Draco thought.

“What will the rest of the Golden Trio think about how you spent your holiday?” Draco asked
suddenly feeling curious.

“I am bound to keep your secrets, Master, and this is one of them.” -Why do you care? -

“You’re not even planning to tell your boyfriend?” he asked curiosity getting the better of him.

-Huh? - “Boyfriend, Master?” Ony was beginning to feel confused.

“So you’re ashamed to tell your little friends?” he said with a hint of emotion.

“I am not ashamed of what I am doing.” -I’m not ashamed of what I’m doing -

He didn’t say anything, just gave her a blank stare so she continued, “and I don’t have a
boyfriend, Master.”

Draco was feeling even more unsure than before. Why did he ask? Did he really like her? What
would his father say . . .

                                                                        ***

They didn’t speak again until it was time for Draco to decide what he was going to wear to his
parents for dinner. He didn’t know why he was nervous, but he decided to enlist his house-elf in
the decision making process.

“Ony,” Draco called.

-What now? Didn’t I do everything twice yesterday? - “Yes Master?” She knew she needed to
be polite to Draco, but she was still tired and sore. -Might I fluff your pillows till they’re twice
normal size or perhaps organize your socks? -

“I’m spending the holiday with my family and they are having a special dinner tonight. I’d like
you to help me decide what to wear.”

Hermione blinked owlishly. - You want my opinion? - “Of course, Master.”

The task could have taken hours considering the number of robes Draco owned if Ony hadn’t
done such a thorough job organizing it recently. As it was, they agreed on a fine set of sky-blue
dress robes after only an hour.

Before it was time for Draco to go meet with Professor Snape, he left a new list of tasks with Ony
to govern how she was to spend her time.

-Can I read and spend hours relaxing in a bath like you do? - “Thank you Master for making
sure I won’t get bored.”

                                                                        ***

Professor Snape and Draco arrived at Malfoy Manor well before the other guests. It had been
decorated in its annual extravagance with fairy lights, ice sculptures and real snow falling quietly
on the twelve-foot tall Christmas tree. Draco missed the Manor when he was at Hogwarts and
the holidays would never be the same anywhere else.

Their early arrival gave them all plenty of time to catch up on recent events. Draco avoided the
conversation about the Dark Lord and his latest schemes in favor of his mother’s loving concern
over his health and grades. She carried on about how fine he looked in his robes and how quickly
he was growing up, which caused a slight blush to color his cheeks. He assured her that he has
been studying hard and eating well.

Overhearing that part of the conversation the professor chimed in, “Draco, you didn’t tell your
mother and father about the incident?”

“Incident?”cisscissa asked worried.

Draco looked at his professor like he had no idea what he was talking about and turned back to
his mother giving her a slight shrug.

“The incident with your new house-elf,” Snape clarified.

Draco visibly paled as he turned pleading eyes to his professor.

“Do tell, Draco. Your letters have been rather limited this past week. I’m eager to know what
you’ve been up to,” his mother chided.

Snape’s eyes took on an evil glint.

“Draco’s new house-elf made a little error . . .” Snape said finally.

Draco’s eyes widened as his parents looked at him once again. His heart stopped in his chest.
Surely his professor couldn’t be so cruel . . . he couldn’t possibly tell about Ony and the spell . . .
He watched his professor closely for any sign of what was to come.

Lucius was getting impatient. “Well is one of you planning to enlighten the rest of us?”

Snape smirked and continued to Lucius’s relief, “she failed to realize the consequences chocolate
has on her new master. He was quite ill by thme sme she brought me to him.”

“A house-elf gave Draco chocolate,” exclaimed Narcissa.

“He demanded it is more likely,” Lucius scolded. “My son, when will you ever learn . . .”

“Are you feeling better now dear?” his mother asked sweetly.

“Yes mother,” he answered as an immense feeling of relief washed over him. He tried not to let it
show.

“Did you punish it appropriately, Draco?” his father asked.

This time it was Snape who was closely watching Draco.

Draco knew what his father wanted to hear, but he knew lying about the punishment in front of
his professor wouldn’t be a good idea. He hedged around the answer for a few moments before
he decided on what he hoped would be an acceptable answer. “Dumbledore has it spelled so I
can’t punish her appropriately . . . and she was only following orders,” he added after a moment.

“How does he expect a house-elf to follow protocol with rules like that?”

Thankfully at that time the other guests began to arrive and the host and hostess were soon too
occupied with their other guests and their house-elves appropriate behavior to be concerned with
their son’s. It was about that time that the professor decided he ought to have a little private chat
with his pupil.

                                                                        ***

“So Draco,” Snape started off casually, “how much have you told your parents about Ony?”

The pale blond stood there with his teacher in a quiet corner of the room watching as the finest
members of pureblood society sauntered in. He tried to ignore them and focus on the topic at
hand. Draco scolded himself for wasting money on a gift for his professor when Snape so
obviously wanted nothing more than his head on a silver platter.

His mouth worked for a moment at a wordless response. Finally he decided no response was
enough.

Snape arched one eyebrow. “Shall I reword that question?” smiling scornfully he asked, “how
much do you want them to know?”

Understanding his professor’s meaning Draco asked, “what do you want?”

“I am glad to see you are still a Slytherin despite your time with the little Gryffindor. What I want
is a bit of that time myself.”

“You want to spend time with me?” Draco asked incredulously.

Snape’s expression grew cold. “No!”

Draco’s stomach twisted in knots. He was suddenly not very hungry.

                                                                        ***

tbc . . .

Thanks for the wonderful reviews, they really make my day =)

I’m sorry it took longer than expected for this chapter . . . my plot-bunnies were chasing each
other around the room humping like mad. I think I’ve got it sorted out, too many twisted tales thisthis head of mine. With encouragement they may all make it here some day.
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- 4
- 5
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Elves Without Clothes