Author's Note- Hope you enjoy this short story about the Malfoys. This little snippet takes place just before Draco leaves for his first year, but first, his parents may find him a little to deep in childish mischief...

Enjoy! And please R&R


"Dobby!" a seething voice screeched from behind a heavy, thickly paneled ebony door. With a seemingly deafening creak, the door opened, and out stepped a fine witch. Her long silvery-blonde hair was tussled up away from her delicate face—her cheeks perfectly rouged and her lips perfectly painted. Yet those perfect lips quivered in suppressed anger and agitation, her porcelain forehead lined in worry.

Untangling his hands from what appeared to be a nasty, writhing red-colored vine, the house elf apparated, squealing, as the vine would simply refuse to come undone, coiling and slithering tighter and higher on Dobby's thin arms.

With a frustrated huff, the witch pulled out her wand from the inside of her black, billowing sleeve, and with a simple flick of her elegant fingers, the red vine dropped lifeless to the ground between them. The house elf's wide eyes shot up to plead with his mistress, "Dobby is sorry, Mistress Malfoy. Dobby pruned the Ravished Redidendrons just as Mistress said, but Dobby just could not…"

"Enough," Narcissa's cool voice resounded clear and ringing in the dim halls of Malfoy Manor. "This is why I told you to separate the Redidendrons from the Snargaluff bushes," her blue eyes looked down at the creature before her, unmoving and unrelenting; "Dobby hasn't disobeyed his family, has he?"

"N-n-no, Mistress," the elf's large ears quivered and drooped behind his head in his increasing anxiety, "Dobby did everything he was told… He knows not to disobey the Malfoys… Dobby will punish himself for his Mistress even so much as suspecting Dobby of disobedience," thick streams of tears began running down his tiny grey, pointed nose.

Narcissa ground her teeth together, her agitated impatience welling up within her, "That… won't be necessary, Dobby. Just be warned, for if you do it again, I may have to tell your master of your errors."

At the very mention of Lucius Malfoy, Dobby's tears increased three-fold, it seemed to Narcissa, who rolled her eyes; "Dobby!" she commanded, with a slight jerk of her head, "I order you stop your crying and your caterwauling this instant." Dobby obliged, but with much difficulty, stuffing his tiny fist in his tiny mouth as if to plug up all his tears. "Much better," Narcissa nodded once as she slowly lifted her eyes from the trembling elf before her. "Now, Dobby, where is Draco? I haven't seen him all day since he left to train his new owls before he leaves for school."

Dobby hesitated a moment, squinting his large eyes, considering if he could remove his fist from his mouth long enough to answer the question, without a single tear or scream escaping from him. "Dobby hasn't seen the Young Master either, Mistress," he finally choked out after removing his fist with a distinct pop.

Narcissa looked up to the ceiling, her delicate features drawing back in her worry, her elegant hand tightening on her equally elegant ebony wand. She regretted letting her young eleven-year-old son go to the Aviary alone for the first time the moment she caved in to his complaints and whines. She knew what else dwelled in the Aviary. And she knew just how much they might enjoy the tasteful company of a young boy… or rather tasty company.