- CHAPTER ONE -
Elf Correctional Facility

"Your clothes are too clean," Malfoy sneered, and he overturned a nearby flowerpot above Dobby's head. Dirt rained down like hail, swatting his bat-like ears over his face. He closed his eyes to stop the specks of dirt and the tips of his ears from blinding him. "Now rub it in, Dobby! Rub it in!" Malfoy commanded, placing his hands on his hips and letting out a shrewd laugh.

His stomach sinking into his hips, Dobby immediately rubbed and pawed at the pillowcase clothing his tiny frame, trying his best to smear the dirt grains and chunks into his rags as deeply as he could.

Malfoy placed a finger to his lips, slouched to one side and inspected Dobby's newly soiled pillowcase for a moment. "Much better," he said finally. "Much, much better."

"Dobby is glad little master is pleased."

A cross look came over Malfoy's face and he shook a fist furiously in the air. Dobby bit his tongue, wondering what had provoked such a response. "How dare you call me – little!" Malfoy cried. "Go burn the tip of your nose on the stove! Immediately!" he ordered. "Maybe that will teach you some manners."

Realizing his mistake, Dobby bowed his head and sniffled. "Dobby is so sorry, big master. Dobby will burn his nose until it is charred and bleeding and peeling, sir."

"Well, what are you waiting for then?"

Dobby let out a squeak and spun around, before heading to the kitchen.

"Wait a minute there, you little turd!" Malfoy called out, and Dobby, holding his breath, stopped short and turned back around. "Clean this up first," Malfoy demanded, motioning at the scattered pile of dirt on the floor. "Look at the mess you made! It's everywhere. You house-elves are vile, dirty little creatures." The corner of his lip curled.

Dobby knew defending himself and arguing would just work against him. "Yes, sir! Right away, sir! How could Dobby be so incompetent?" He figured out a long time ago that the trick was to second-guess the Malfoys – suggest a punishment less severe than they would give – and in doing so hopefully make things less painful for himself. "Dobby will burn his tongue on the stove too, to punish him for his incompetence."

"And let that be a lesson to you," Malfoy sneered, and left the room as Dobby, on his hands and knees, swept the dirt into a tall, neat pile with his hands.

Several minutes later, having ignited the stove and placed his nose on top of the warming, glowing element, Mr. Malfoy entered the kitchen.

"What are you up to there?" he spat, pinching Dobby's ear and yanking him off the stove. "Trying to burn the house down, are you?" He glared menacingly.

"Oh no, sir," the elf squealed in pain. "Dobby made a mess, and young master told Dobby to burn his nose and tongue on the stove as a punishment."

"Oh, very good," said Mr. Malfoy, releasing Dobby's ear and rubbing his hands together furiously as if they had been soaked in acid. "Carry on, then."

Dobby shook his head, cupping a hand over his now pulsating ear. It felt although it were on fire.

"Narcissa," Mr. Malfoy called, turning his back to Dobby.

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Malfoy responded as she swept into the kitchen.

"I was thinking of sending Dobby to the Elf Correctional Facility for while. What do you think?"

Dobby's eyes widened. The Elf Correctional Facility? From what he'd heard from the other house-elves, even living with the Malfoys was better than there. Anywhere, but there! Dobby threw his face over the steaming element with bubbling enthusiasm. It let off a sizzle when his flesh touched down.

"Why, has he done something wrong?" Mrs. Malfoy asked.

"Look, sir! See! Dobby is giving himself the most grievous punishment and will be well disciplined from now on!"

But Mr. Malfoy ignored him. "Does he ever do anything right?" Mr. Malfoy said, shooting Dobby a sinister glance. "Bellatrix was telling me that when her elf was giving her problems, a few days at the facility really got him straightened out." He wandered over to where smoke was rising from the tip of Dobby's nose as he winced, pushing it against the element. Mr. Malfoy observed him carefully, then grimaced. "These old-fashioned punishments just don't seem to be doing the trick anymore. Why, just last week he burnt a hole in one of my shirts worth a hundred Galleons with an iron."

"Dobby is most reformed, sir! He can feel his mistakes teaching him the lessons he is in dire need of!" A cloud of smoke was rising around his face from his burning flesh.

Mrs. Malfoy frowned. "But who will take care of things around here?"

"A substitute," Mr. Malfoy replied. "The Facility provides clients with another, well-mannered elf while their elf is undergoing discipline."

Mrs. Malfoy shrugged. "You're probably right." She glanced at Dobby, who was clawing at the stove in pain, swallowing his screams. "Perhaps he could use a little straightening out."

"Dobby!" Mr. Malfoy said in a raised voice.

Dobby instantly straightened up. Smoke was pouring out of his mouth because he had just pressed his tongue against the element. "Yes, sir?" His words were slurred.

"You will be going to Elf Correctional Facility."

His heart lurching in his chest, Dobby fell to his knees and crawled up to Mr. Malfoy's boots, grabbing at the gold-plated toes. "Please, sir. Please don't send Dobby away," he wailed. "Dobby is sorry for scattering dirt on the floor, and making young master yell at him."

Mr. Malfoy pulled his boot free from Dobby's grasp, then kicked him in the ribs. Dobby felt the wind rush from his lungs, as he flew several feet across the floor and skidded to a stop, bunched up into a heap.

"How dare you question my decisions!" Mr. Malfoy growled.

Shaking, Dobby rose to his knees and clasped his hands together, as if he were saying a prayer. "Oh, no, sir. Dobby would never dare question Master's decisions. Ever."

"Pack your rags," Mr. Malfoy commanded. "You leave at once!" And he stormed out of the kitchen, with Mrs. Malfoy following in his wake.

Dobby sniffled, rubbing his nose and letting out a yelp when his hands ran over the burns. Accepting his fate, he wailed and broke down into tears. They streamed down his cheeks as he sobbed. "Send Dobby anywhere, but the Elf Correctional Facility. Anywhere, but there!"