For EvylinDevilin's Challenge: Choose Your Path challenge Part 2

Socks


"Winky!"

The drunken lump that barely resembled a house elf barely stirred. Dobby did not particularly care that his friend was not listening, for he knew if he did not tell someone, even if they weren't paying attention, he would simply burst with excitement.

"Winky!" he repeated happily. "Winky, Dobby has gotten two socks!"

Winky let out a moan. She struggled to her feet, displacing many empty bottles of mead as she did so.

"Dobby shouldn't except clothes," Winky mumbled distastefully.

"Oh, but Dobby loves clothes!" Dobby protested. "And these ones are socks, too!"

Dobby held up a particularly ugly pair of hand-knit, canary yellow socks.

"Dobby thinks that Albus Dumbledore gives these to him as payment!" Dobby exclaimed. "Dobby requested that Albus Dumbledore gives Dobby payment in socks! Or perhaps they are from Harry Potter. Harry Potter is very nice -"

"Dobby shouldn't ask for payment," Winky scolded weakly. She began to sway. "Dobby is being a bad house elf. Dobby should be working on Christmas dinner."

"Winky should, too!" Dobby announced cheerfully. "Come on, Winky. We must work on dinner!"

Winky collapsed into a drunken state of mind. Every once and a while, she mutter something along the lines of: "Dobby is a bad house elf" and "Mr. Crouch needs Winky."

Dobby, on the other hand, was skipping around the Kitchen, showing every house elf his new socks. The elves shared looks of absolute disgust. Dobby, on his fifth round around the Kitchen, stopped at the remains of the gift's package. Scrawled on the package was Draco Malfoy. Dobby frowned.

"This is not right," he announced to no one in particular. "Draco Malfoy would not send Dobby a present. Draco Malfoy hates Dobby, and Dobby hates him back!"

With that, Dobby picked up the parcel and socks, snapped his fingers, and Disapperated.

"What did you get for Christmas?" Pansy Parkinson cooed.

"Well, my mother sent me the most ugly pair of yellow socks," Draco Malfoy replied. "As if she expected me to wear them! She even sent one of those despicable, little house elves to -"

Draco was cut off as a loud crack scared him half to death. When he recovered, Draco found himself staring at a house elf with wide, tennis-ball eyes.

"Dobby has accidentally received Draco Malfoy's socks," Dobby announced, showing Draco the ugly canary yellow socks.

"Those aren't mine," Draco lied instantly.

"It has your name on it," Dobby retorted firmly, brandishing the parcel.

Draco frowned, as he knew that this wasn't the same house elf who delivered the present. Suddenly, the pieces put themselves together, and a smile played at his lips. Dobby did not miss this.

"What are you smiling at?" Dobby demanded.

"Nothing," Draco lied easily. "But, my name didn't mean to Draco Malfoy, it meant from. Those socks are for you."

"No, they are not," Dobby snapped. "Draco Malfoy hate Dobby, and Dobby hates Draco Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes. "My mum sent me those, and I hated them instantly. I told the house elf who brought them to keep them, but he refused. So I told him to give the socks to someone else. He said he knew just the elf, and that elf must mean you."

"The socks are Draco Malfoy's," Dobby insisted. "Keeping the socks would be stealing if Dobby didn't have permission."

"Fine, then," Draco hissed. "Keep the socks, I give you permission to keep them."

Dobby's eyes suddenly glowed with happiness. He ran forward and hugged Draco Malfoy. Draco swatted him away.

"Get out of my sight," Draco growled.

"Yes, sir, Master Malfoy!" Dobby exclaimed, snapping a salute. He cracked his fingers again, and disappeared once more.