11A/N: There is. No excuse for this. Especially when it's the first story I've published on here in YEARS. Actual YEARS.
Now why did I write this? Because my friend Toby asked me to and I hate myself. I apologize in advance. I am so so sorry, I am going deeper than hell for this. At least it's short.
Notice: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I wish I didn't own the shame and horror of having authored this. Enjoy…?
Dobby and Hagrid: Meeting in Prison AU: Follow the Spiders
The large man sighed, hunched his shoulders, and lowered himself down onto the cot he'd pushed against the wall of the cell. He couldn't believe he was back here. It had been bad enough the first time, when that idiot Fudge had thought he was responsible for the petrifying of the students, but know… If Rubeus Hagrid was going to be honest with himself, he knew exactly why he was here, but he would deny it until the end of time.
"They're 'armless, really!" He'd insisted as the Aurors dragged him through the gates of the school. Kingsley Shacklebolt scowled at him.
"Rubeus Hagrid, you are under arrest for harboring a dangerous colony of acromantula on school grounds," the head Auror had barked at him.
"They're 'armless…." Hagrid muttered to himself, shivering as the third Dementor circled past his cell. "I jus' hope tha' Harry will look after Aragog for me." It had been weeks now, and he was getting worried that without the proper care and companionship, the poor spider would get lonely. He was blind, after all.
He sighed again, and watched his breath float on the air in front of him. He dragged a finger through the warm mist, fascinated by the swirls it created, and lost himself in thought.
Hagrid's life after that became a swirl of thought, cold, fear, and the occasional bowl of gruel. Some days, the thoughts and the gruel came together, and those days were the bad days, because on those days Hagrid didn't eat. The gruel reminded him too much of the paste he'd make for Aragog when he was still growing, and the cold fingers of loss would grip the half-giant.
In the weeks that had passed since Hagrid's arrest, the creatures of the forest had grown restless. They were not being fed regularly, and the acromantula specifically were growing hungry for the young, supple flesh of the students just meters away in the castle.
Aragog routinely sent smaller arcomantula into the castle's expansive kitchen to steal meats from the house-elves that prepared the meals. What Aragog wasn't expecting was for one nosey house-elf to follow the spiders.
Dobby had noticed the spiders before. They came into the kitchen often and left with raw steaks and chickens and pork. And they only ever took the meat, carrying the t-bones and ribeyes amongst their vast but tiny numbers. On orders, Dobby never followed them from the kitchen to find out where exactly they were taking the meat.
The day this changed- though if you asked Dobby later, he would say he hadn't been disobeying orders again, he'd been following fate's orders- was the day that a larger spider was in the kitchen. A much larger spider. Larger than Dobby. It had scared poor Master Weasley so badly that Harry Potter had had to run him to the hospital wing, faint with terror. This was when Dobby decided that enough was enough. He followed the large spider out of the kitchen, through the hallways of the castle, and deep into the Forbidden Forest.
Dobby followed the large spider all the way to the colony of the acromantula.
"Who is that?" The ancient, dusty voice of Aragog floated through the colony. The eldest acromantula approached the cowering house-elf.
"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf."
"A house-elf?" Aragog laughed. "What use is a house-elf to my sons and daughters, who crave the taste of flesh? What use is a house-elf to my growing family who must eat to survive?"
"Dobby isn't sure, sir," the house-elf said.
"Well, I suppose you will have to do," Aragog replied. "We do so need living flesh to satisfy us. And since Hagrid can no longer bring us the flesh we need…."
"Master Hagrid feeds you, sir?" Dobby asked. Aragog nodded. "Where is Master Hagrid now?"
"Hagrid was taken by the wizards and imprisoned for keeping us here," Aragog hissed. The other acromantula hissed along with him.
"Master Hagrid is in Azkaban?" Dobby asked.
"Yes."
"Well," Dobby said, "I could be breaking him out if you wish!"
Aragog pondered this. "Could you really?"
"Yes, sir. House-elves can get in and out undetected. I could bring Master Hagrid back!"
—-
Hagrid lay back on his cot, lost in his memories of little Aragog. He was so lost in thought that he almost didn't hear the pop of Apparation in his cell. Almost. But the noise was so out of the normal routine he'd become used to that it startled him out of thought.
"Who's that, then?" Hagrid whispered.
"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf." Dobby grinned up at the half-giant and grabbed his hand. "The spider sent me to free you."
"Well, Dobby the house-elf, it seems I'm in your debt," Hagrid said. Dobby just winked at the half-giant before Disapparating.
—-
Weeks after Dobby had freed Hagrid from Azkaban, the two finally had The Talk over dinner.
"So, Dobby, I'm still in your debt. Have you given any thought as to what I owe you?" Hagrid questioned, munched on a rather crispy trout.
"Well, sir, Dobby was wondering if you could do Dobby a favor." Dobby found it very difficult to look the half-giant in the eye.
"Anything, Dobby, a debt's a debt."
"Well, sir, Dobby was wondering if you could…Dobby was wondering if you could pleasure him, sir," the blushing house elf asked Hagrid.
Hagrid made an undignified choking noise. But, a debt was a debt. The house-elf had freed him from Azkaban.
"Sure, Dobby. A debt's a debt," Hagrid said, hardly believing himself the words he was saying. He set the charred fish on the ground. Dobby mimicked his motions. Hagrid swallowed the horrified lump in his throat. There was no way he would be able to…pleasure the house-elf without killing the poor creature. How was he to do this? He wrung his fingers nervously.
Ah! Of course. That was the answer. His pinky should do the trick. Hagrid stood and motioned for the house-elf to follow. Dobby did, eagerly.
"Dobby greatly appreciates this, Master Hagrid!" Dobby grinned up at Hagrid as he stripped out of his mismatched clothes.
"Let's get this over with," Hagrid muttered. He picked up the eager house-elf and, grimacing, slid Dobby carefully down his pinky until the house-elf couldn't go down anymore. Dobby let out a very satisfied moan.
'Okay,' Hagrid thought to himself. 'Just get it over with.' Closing his eyes, Hagrid gripped Dobby carefully around the middle and began moving the house-elf slowly up and down his pinky.
The moans of enjoyment coming from the house-elf were indescribable. They certainly were NOT something Hagrid had wanted to, hoped, or dreamed of hearing in his life. Now, though, he was certain that the sounds would follow him to the grave, and maybe even to hell. No, definitely to hell. There was nowhere else he would HAVE to go after this. But, the more he thought about it, the more Hagrid began to enjoy it. The mere idea that he and he alone could single-handedly (single-fingerly?) bring this much pleasure to a creature as small as the house-elf he was sliding up and down his finger…. Now that was something Hagrid could get used to.
A/N: Please feel free to join me in jumping off of a bridge now. Let's see if I post after this or not. Lol