In any business, be it corporate, internet, home, or school, everyone expects the best and prepares for the worst.
Of those who are prepared for 'The Worst', few consider basic utilities and services as part of what can go wrong.
In the bad old day, such basic utilities and services would be provided by a set of underfed, uneducated, and trapped humans called slaves. They were expected to do everything, even die, so that their masters could live a life of undeserved luxury. It was a shameful part of human history, and it still occurs today. Fortunately most humans consider this an abomination.
Well, humans who were not part of the Wizarding World considered it an abomination.
In the long history of the wizarding world was one secret which was so well hidden that it was unknown to modern wizards. In fact, it was so well hidden that even the oldest living people, Nicolas Flamel and his wife, didn't know this secret. It was a secret so dark, and black, and that so many of that generation of wizards had participated in, that knowledge was restricted.
The secret was the origin of the Obliviate series of spells.
Unlike what was told to people when the International Statute of Secrecy was originated, the series of spell was not designed to help muggles forget that they have seen or experienced something magical. The spells were first designed after torture failed to get what a group of wizards, who were of Norman decent, wanted. What they wanted was slaves, and to get what they wanted, and needed, they needed an isolated area to grab them.
They captured many during their time, but none would submit, and given they had magic of their own, resistance was fierce. Only the laws that these beings lived by prevented the killing of these wizards out of hand. This, unfortunately, was this races undoing.
Stronger measures were called for, and one enterprising wizard came up with the spells after reading of the River of Lethe.
Thus is the hidden history of the House Elves, and why they swear an oath of servitude, having forgotten who they were, and what they were.
Oh, the name of the wizard who created this distasteful series of spells?
Jean Morfey.
But what bearing can this discussion have on basic utilities?
Well, Hogwarts Castle was about to undergo the beginnings of a revolutions which would have far reaching percussions all over the British Isles and Europe.
And it started with the 'Crazy Elf.'
"What Dobby do here?" an elf questioned the clothes wearing abomination.
"Dobby is here to inform House Elves not to enter Black Tower." came the reply.
"Dobby can't say that! Dobby is not a Hogwarts Elf. Hogwarts Elves will go to clean Black Tower." another of the crowd of elves said.
"Do elves know who Dobby works for?" said the free elf.
"Dobby works? Dobby has master?" said a small elf in front of him.
Dobby snorted, "Cleaver should know Dobby. I work for Mr. Black. Dobby is STILL Free Elf! Mr. Black ONLY has Free Elves."
Now the gathered elves looked on and muttered. "Other elves with no master?"
Dobby nodded, "Mr. Black wants elves free. No bonded elf can enter Black Tower. Spell to prevent bonded elf from entering is on Black Tower!"
"But Master Timmy! Small master is kind. Siffy want to serve Master Timmy!" bawled one of the elves.
"Then must be free Elf. Go to DumblyDore. He free you!" Dobby shouted to get his point across.
Hidden overhead was a figure about a foot and a half high. Although he could have been here sooner, he had approached cautiously. Even though he had felt the call of a wizard who had used the old forms, the proper forms, it could well be a trick. "What say you Brownie. Be this truth?"
"Aye Lord Hob! That one be free and champions freedom." said a small one foot tall man with a beard.
"So, there be wizards who will help then." the figure in Lincoln green said. "This Master Timmy. Did he call?"
"Aye. He is Wright Timothy Hunter, and called by Oak, Ash, and Thorn for parley with the Wee Folk." said an elf wife.
"Did ye respond?" was grumbled out.
"No MiLord. These pitiful ones did, and we observed. Timothy did not order, he asked. More, he did not ask for favours, he asked permission to change something. In five hundred years, we have not observed this." she said.
"Mayhaps." came a mumble. "Mayhaps we should looks. If he be worthy, and lead others to be worthy, then will our brothers be free once more. See to it they are supported, e'en though they know us not."
"Aye, MiLord Hob!"
"Timothy..." said the Manikin, testing the name. "Mayhaps you will be what's needed. Nae the less, t'will be fun to test ye, but what guise to wear?"
"MiLord?"
"Aye? T'is something thou needst?"
The elfwife blushed, "Nay, MiLord. We have found this book about the boy, and there is one in here that is much like you."
"Truly? Then show me." came the gruff reply.
Once The Hob read the description, and saw what he could do, he decided the identity would do. "Elfwife, thy kindness does you well. Have the maidens prepare a suit such as shown. Mxyzptlk shall be the name I use here!"
