Chapter Three - Buzzard hits the Billabong

And so it was with some foreboding that I looked forward to breakfast, fortunately, Dobby came trumps yet again with the preparation of the morning meal.

True to my earlier words, Dobby presented a meal that would have changed the mind of Scott before he made his way to the North Pole. But it wasn't the delights held on the silver platter that he brought into my bedroom, but rather his haircut that caught my attention.

So now I had two things to worry about; God-Mother Allanah and her devious - but twisted - plans with the Minister, and Dobby. And that thing on his head. How could I break the news slowly to my esteemed manservant that it looked like he had slicked a freshly flattened skunk to his head? The direct way, of course.

I chewed reflectively on a sausage for a second 'Dobby? These sausages'

He stood like a statue by the door 'Sir?'

'Yes'

again he used the time honoured 'Sir?'

'Made from contented pigs no doubt'

'Yes, sir'

'Do you know what would go down well with these contented sausages?'

'No, sir. Perhaps sir could enlighten me?'

My time with Dobby had not been misspent. I knew what enlighten meant, and I was proud. 'Orange juice. Fresh orange juice'

'Yes, sir'

'And perhaps you could get one for that thing on your head, also'

A pained look came over his face as the trademark "Sir?" made another appearance

'Yes' was my reply. I had decided while chewing an earlier sausage that I had to get this over with quickly, before anyone saw It. 'It looks like you've slicked a freshly flattened skunk onto your head'

There was no mistake this time, a definite tinge appeared to his cheeks 'Really, sir?'

'Yes. I trust you will remedy the situation? Soon? Before anyone sees It?' I was again proud that I could pronounce things with a Capital.

'Would sir allow me to ask something informal?'

'Of course Dobby, you should be able to do that all the time'

'Well sir, does it really look like a "freshly flattened skunk" as you call it? Sir' he hastily added the Sir, looking uncomfortable at the informality.

'Yes. Without a shadow of a doubt'

'I was assured it is the latest style, sir'

'Dobby, just because something is the latest style, doesn't mean you can walk around with it on your head'

'Yes, sir'

'Please get rid of it Dobby'

'Yes, sir' Dobby snapped his fingers and his hair returned to its normal self

'On to more pressing business Dobby'

'Yes, sir?'

'That's right. Do you know who was just here?'

'I do, sir'

'Really? How?'

'Because I had the pleasure of letting her in'

'Ah.'

'Sir'

'Do you know what amazes me about you Dobby?'

'What's that, sir?'

'Your ability to make "sir" seem innocent'

'Sir'

'See? You just did it'

'Sir?'

'Stop it'

'Yes, sir'

'Where was I?'

'You mentioned pressing business, sir'

'Ah. Yes. My God-Mother'

'Yes, Sir?'

'Did you know why she was here this morning?'

'No sir, I am not privileged enough to be privy to that, sir'

'She wanted me to keep the Minister busy for two weeks'

Surprise registered in his eyes, I was getting quite proficient at reading Dobby 'Sir?'

'I know, quite impossible'

'I understand, sir'

'but the strange thing is ...' I trailed off and tried to remember what was strange

'Sir?' prompted Dobby

'She wouldn't tell me why I had to keep the Minister busy for two whole weeks.'

'The reason escapes me, sir'

'Keep your ear to the grindstone on this one Dobby' Was what I said thoughtfully.

~End of Chapter~



A/N: This chapter was mostly fluff, but will become more important as the story progresses. Dedicated to Nick Hanning, who without a terrible haircut the Death Toupee would never have been born