Enthusi Politics

Hermione angrily stalked into the girl's tent. The nerve of Percy, laying all of the blame on Winky! After 'asking' Winky to take leave into the girls' tent, Hermione had whirled on Percy and told him straight. Not that he had listened. He continued to lavish Crouch with the praise he didn't deserve and berate Winky for the poor service she had given.

Hermione growled in frustration and stood inches from his face, glowering menacingly and reiterating her confidence in Winky. Percy's eyes had widened a bit, and he backed away. After a few minutes into the heated argument, if a one-sided display of passionate yelling could be considered such, Mr Weasley told them to try to get a few hours of rest, because they'd be taking the earliest portkey back. Hermione snorted and stalked from the main tent.

Surprisingly, Goku and Gohan followed. She huffily pulled out the dictionary she usually read when she was angry and sat, riffling through its pages. Goku and Gohan sat a short distance away. Gohan opened his mouth, but Goku touched his son's shoulder and shook his head.

Winky was standing in the middle of the floor, fidgeting anxiously. She knew Ladyship had just been in an argument, and that the argument had likely involved her. She trembled slightly. She had to direct Ladyship's attention to the new serving bond that had been cast. She bit her lip. The nature of her reservice had been unusual. Typically, it was a happy occasion when an elf was rebonded to another master. But as Ladyship haughtily flipped a page, Winky couldn't help but blame herself for the turmoil her new mistress was experiencing.

Winky cast a nervous glance toward her new master. "Will Ladyship be renaming Winky? It usually is wizard's tradition."

Hermione closed the book she was reading and looked at the elf with a small smile.

Winky jumped fearfully. "Oh! Winky is sorry! Didn't mean to disrupt Ladyship—"

"Never mind. Would you like to be renamed, Winky?"

Winky blinked. Clearly Ladyship had never owned an elf before. "Would I like—?" She shuddered and choked on a sob.

"I'm sorry, Winky. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Hermione said kindly.

Winky sobbed louder. "Ladyship is so kind! Winky isn't deserving of such a master!"

"Winky, please calm down. Tell me if you wish to be renamed."

Winky nodded as she wiped her face on her dingy tea towel.

"What name do you like?" Hermione asked.

Winky gasped, staring at Hermione in awe. "Ladyship? You is wanting my choice in a name?"

Hermione smiled. "What name do you like?" She repeated.

"Oh, but Winky cannot hope…it is name in house-elf's language. I dare not hope that Ladyship favors it!"

"What is it?"

"Frusha," the elf said shakily.

"Frusha?" Hermione asked.

The elf shivered when Hermione said it. "Yes. That is being Winky's name in the house-elf language."

"What is house-elf language called, Frusha?" Once again, the bodies of the respective pair sparkled with bonding magic as Hermione called the elf by the chosen name.

The elf shivered. "Oh. It is called Enthusi, Ladyship."

"Will you teach me some?" Hermione said in interest.

Frusha gasped. She never knew of a wizard that expressed interest in house-elf language. But Frusha knew that her master was no ordinary wizard. It was as plain as the melanic markings on her face. "If Ladyship desires. Does Ladyship desire to learn some now?"

"Perhaps in a moment, Frusha," she said, causing the elf to shiver. "Is there a written language? Can you write it?"

"There is, but house-elves are usually forbidden to use quills, ink, or parchment."

"Come here. Sit by me."

The elf gulped, but complied. Hermione pulled out a quill and ink. "Would you write for me?"

"Write Enthusi?" Frusha squeaked incredulously. She had never dared write Enthusi in anything more than ashes from the grate. She scrawled the lexicons shakily as Gohan repositioned himself behind Hermione due to his overpowering curiosity.

Hermione smiled at the shaky handwriting. "What does it say?"

Frusha blushed. "Londan hulomore coress. It means Great Wizard Lady."

Hermione blushed. "Oh. Well, how about hello or some sort of greeting of friends."

Frusha scrawled. "Breakal kish van means Happy service."

Hermione grimaced. "That's a greeting?"

"Yes. House-elves live to serve, Ladyship."

"How would a house-elf react if I were to say that to him?"

Frusha blinked twice. She grinned. "Frusha doesn't know. Perhaps Ladyship should experiment." Frusha gasped at her own boldness. She reached out for a book to punish herself. Sensing her intent, Gohan pulled the book from her grasp. Glaring at him, she began desperately looking for another item by which to inflict self-harm.

"Frusha, I forbid you to punish yourself!" Hermione said firmly.

Frusia collapsed to the floor, panting from the effort.

"There's something I wish to discuss with you," Hermione said in hesitation. "Your…whatever you're wearing."

"It's wizard tradition for house-elves to wear tea towels or pillowcases bearing the colors of the household they serve," Frusha offered, hoping that Ladyship might offer her a new towel with her symbols.

"Well, I'm breaking tradition," Hermione said flatly. "I don't think anyone should be deprived of the right to be properly garbed."

Frusha gulped. "You mean, clothes?" Her eyes widened fearfully.

Hermione stared at her. "It's nothing personal, Frusha. I just find blatant immodesty distasteful, and your 'towel' hardly covers much."

Frusha looked down at herself. She could hardly find fault with Ladyship's argument. Nevertheless… "Ladyship, Frusha never is wearing clothes before. Clothes is being a disgrace to house-elves—"

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "You may still wear your towel, Frusha, if you so desire. I won't force you to wear anything. I just wish it was longer," Hermione held her breath, hoping that the elf bought the story. It was true that Hermione did prefer modest choices in clothes, but the real reason was because she wanted Winky to wear clothes, like a free creature.

Frusha stared. Ladyship is wanting Frusha to cover more, yet she allows Frusha to decide for herself. She inhaled deeply. Ladyship was a good master. Frusha would do anything to please her, even if it meant the shame of wearing clothes. "If Ladyship approves, Frusha wears something beneath towel."

Hermione smiled. She could tell that Frusha disliked the idea of wearing clothes, but would do it to please her. Hermione wanted to offer a compromise, to let Frusha know that Hermione cared for her feelings. "We can make the extra covering from anything you desire, Frusha. Even if you want to make it from other tea towels."

Frusha stared. "Anything? Anything Frusha likes?"

Hermione nodded. "Absolutely, Frusha."

Frusha mumbled something, blushing.

"Would you repeat that, please? I didn't hear it."

"Silk pillowcases?" Frusha whispered softly, trembling.

Hermione laughed. "If that's what you want, Frusha. Silk pillowcases! What color would you prefer?"

Frusha gasped before she responded. "Pink?" Tears welled in the elf's eyes. She couldn't believe her fortune. It had to be a dream.

Hermione pulled a capsule from her pocket and pushed the button. It formed into a trunk. She opened the trunk and removed a pink bolt of fabric and a sewing machine. "I got extra in case I wanted to do something else. I'll still have enough to make my dress."

The elf stood in shock. Ladyship was making her a pillowcase with matching pantaloon underwear. Ladyship was making her, a house-elf, something to wear. And Ladyship was quite a skilled seamstress with the Muggle contraption. She had finished the pieces in less than an hour. She held the 'pillowcase' to her own body.

"Draw yourself a bath, Frusha. You will want a clean frame to hang it on."

A quarter hour later, Frusha was blinking stupidly at her own reflection in a mirror. Ladyship's friend Master Gohan had suggested completing the service pillowcase with a decorative silver, drapery tying sash. Frusha looked…well, as stunning as a house-elf could ever look.

"Frusha is forever grateful to ladyship. Frusha tries to keep pillowcase clean always! Please, Ladyship, place your colors on my service pillowcase."

Hermione blinked. She shook her head sadly. "I don't know what my colors are, Frusha."

Gohan nudged her. "Why don't you make your own? You have connections to Subaru and Slytherin, Hogwarts and Granger. Why don't you make a coat of arms to reflect who you are and what you want to be?"

Hermione frowned thoughtfully. Then she pulled her wand and flicked her wrist with a small smile. Intricate embroidery trimmed the hem of the pillowcase, a crest formed on the elf's chest on the left, the same crest forming on the center of Frusha's back.

Gohan grinned. "The style reminds me of father's gi, except the fact that it's like a dress on the bottom and that the emblems are shields rather than symbols."

Hermione nodded. The large crest consisted of three shields: the center, large shield, a variation of the Hogwarts crest; the smaller left shield was slightly overlapping and leaning toward the larger and contained reference to the Subaru kinship with a slight subtle reference to Slytherin; the smaller right sheild equally overlapped and leaned and was dedicated to the Grangers, the people who had taken her in and loved her as their own. It contained a subtle reference to Gryffindor.

Frusha blushed with pride. No house elf was as fairly service-dressed as she. Ladyship nodded her approval.

"Now, Frusha. Because you are going to be working close to me, there are a few things I need to tell you. I press upon you the gravity of these things, and I'm asking you, as a friend, never to divulge them. Can I trust you to keep a secret?"

Frusha nodded. "Yes. Yes! Frusha is best at keeping secrets! Frusha is never telling secrets kept by masters."

Hermione frowned thoughtfully. I wonder what secrets Barty Crouch had Frusha to keep. Hermione inhaled deeply. "I will tell you when it is safe to discuss the secrets. You may always discuss it in front of Harry, Gohan, and Ron, but only when no one else occupies the room. Okay?"

"Yes, Ladyship."

"Okay, first, I must ask you a question. Why do you call me Ladyship? That is rather unusual, even among house-elves."

Frusha nodded. "Because, Ladyship is Subaru heiress. Ladyship is Ladyship."

Hermione winced. "And how do you know that I am Subaru descent?"

Frusha gestured around her own eyes. "Ladyship has the melanic markings."

Hermione turned toward Gohan. "Do you see them?"

Gohan shook his head. Goku looked bewildered.

Hermione looked back toward Frusha. "Frusha, can all house-elves see the markings?"

Frusha nodded.

Hermione sighed. "This could be a problem. I'm not sure I can keep my identity secret if house-elves can distinguish me. Potentially speaking, anyone with a house-elf—"

"—might discover who you are," Gohan finished, cutting her off.

Frusha frowned. "Ladyship seeks to be hidden? Why? Ladyship should be proud of being Ladyship."

"It's not that, Frusha. I guess I should tell you now." Hermione began her story, starting with the story of the Chamber of Secrets, the encounter with the basilisk, and her discovery of her adoption. She told Frusha her discoveries in the same order which she herself had discovered them. Frusha's eyes widened with increasing horror as the realization that her mistress was the daughter of Lord Voldemort sank in. "You see, Frusha, it could become difficult for me in several different ways if it was discovered that I was…his daughter. There's no telling what the Ministry would do with that information, not to mention… V-Voldemort."

Frusha squeaked at the sound of the name. "Ladyship! Ladyship is not possibly being his daughter, Ladyship! Ladyship is too nice! Ladyship is not being!"

Hermione nodded sadly. "Unfortunately, I am. It would be bad, to say the least, if he discovered this. Frusha, I don't want you to call me Ladyship anymore. It's highly suspicious, even among house-elves. Call me Hermione."

The elf squeaked. "Me? Call a wizard by first name alone? Not Mistress Hermione—"

Hermione flinched. "Eww…Mistress? I don't think so."

"Madam?"

Hermione made a face. "Not likely."

"Lady?"

"That's about as bad as Ladyship. Why not just Hermione?"

"Miss?" The elf pleaded with her eyes. Gohan giggled.

Hermione sighed, resigned. This wasn't helping her reservations for having a house-elf. "If you feel you must."

"Many thanks, Ladyship…Argh! Frusha is sorry, bad Frusha!" Frusha reached for another book.

"Never mind!" Hermione snapped, wincing at her own tone. She never knew house elves could be so annoying. She retried in a calmer tone. "Don't punish yourself…just practice not saying Ladyship."

"Of course, L—Miss Hermione," the elf squeaked.

Draco sat in the Malfoy library, absently perusing a broomstick catalog as one of the house-elves swept nearby. He had been home for two hours. His father had arrived at the front of Weasley's tents, loudly demanding his son, who was sitting shakily within the folds sipping the cocoa that the Weaslette had offered him. It seemed that everyone was in a rather subdued mood, even the twins weren't in the mood for their usual pranking. He had actually witnessed when Bushy-Head Granger had exploded on the Pratty Weasel Prefect concerning the house-elf, her eyes flashing their usual hue-of-blue don't-mess-with-pissed-off-Granger warning, causing the usually composed Percy to back off, slightly alarmed. Mafoy would never admit how much he enjoyed the pompous weasel getting his. Not aloud, anyways.

Interesting how Granger manipulated the situation to get herself a house-elf. Any other way might have cost her a fortune. I'll have to log that technique away for future reference. Just because I could afford thousands of servants easily doesn't mean I should spend money needlessly if I don't have to. Though I have to admit, Granger didn't appear too happy at acquiring the elf by the looks of it. She looked rather guilty. She even took the elf's side in the argument. Hmm…and she did that thing again. I wonder if that Muggle was telling me the truth about how strong she is.

Malfoy coughed as dust settled onto him. The elf squeaked a fearful apology in an unusually deep voice for an elf and began hitting himself with the dustpan, trying to exit the room between metallic thwonks.

"Stop! Come here!" Draco commanded. The elf reluctantly staggered over.

"What's your name, elf?"

The elf blinked stupidly before answering. "Blinkin, sir," he bowed.

Draco snorted. House-elves have such repugnant names. I'd kill myself if I had that moniker. "Blinkin, I need to ask you a question. Have you ever heard of a wizard transforming without any potion or charm?"

Blinkin stared at the pale boy. "There have been rumors among the house-elves that the Arandian Heir has returned to Hogwarts, Master Draco."

"What? You mean a child of the Subaru clan?"

"Yes, Master Draco. My father's brother's wife's cousin works at the school. It seems a majority of the elves there sneak away from the kitchens to get a glimpse of her. They are reluctant to discuss it outside the school, sir. They are bound to her, and she doesn't seem to desire her identity to be discovered. Even though she doesn't seem to be aware of her ownership of them, they still honor her wishes."

No. Surely not Granger. Surely not the Mudblood. "How can you be certain she is the Heir?"

"The melanic facial markings are visible to house-elves even if the Heir isn't transformed."

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "Thank you, Blinkin. You are excused."

Draco walked purposefully toward his father's study and opened the door. His father jumped at the boy's entrance. He sneered angrily at the boy's intrusion.

He spoke irritably. "I hope you have a reasonable excuse for disturbing me, Draco. I've been preoccupied with important matters." Like where the hell that Mark came from…and those powerful fighters.

"As have I. Father, I have need of Blinkin, the house-elf. Give him to me."

Lucius smirked. "Such a silly request, Draco. He's practically yours by extension already. Isn't that enough?"

Draco leveled his eyes at his father. "Are you not always trying to impress upon me the need for more responsibility? I would have Blinkin, Father. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes. I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Heh. Even if you have to scrub all the lavatories the Muggle way to get your desire, son?"

Draco matched his father's smirk. "Somehow I don't think I would be doing that for character building."

"Perhaps you're right. Maybe I'd just enjoy the entertainment of watching a Malfoy doing a servant's job."

Draco scowled. "I'll do it if I must, Father! I will have Blinkin!"

The amusement twinkled in his father's eyes. "Blinkin must be something special for you to go through the trouble of cleaning toilets for him."

Draco snorted but remained firm. He would need Blinkin if he was going to find answers.

His father sighed. "Blinkin!"

A loud pop echoed across the room. "Yes, Master Malfoy?"

"Draco here is going to be scrubbing all of the chamber pots and bathrooms. Watch him closely. Offer no magical or physical assistance. You may offer tips if you like. I want a solid memory base to collect from you when he's finished. When he's finished, I want you both to return here and relinquish your memories to me. As soon as I view the memories, consider yourself Draco's property. Understand, elf?"

The increasingly surprised elf jumped back in shock at the last revelation. He looked from elder to son before nodding his acknowledgement. "Yes, master."

Elder Malfoy laughed as the two exited. "Father would be rolling over in his grave, but I don't care. I could use the small diversion those memories will give."

...

A few hours later, a profusely sweaty Draco Malfoy was stalking from his father's study, proudly smirking at the happily fussing elf behind him. "I don't much like the name Blinkin, elf."

"If I may be so bold, master, neither do I," the elf grumbled.

Draco chuckled. "What kind of names do elves like?"

The elf blinked twice. He wasn't accustomed to conversing with masters. "House elves like the names of wizards…and the Enthusi names our parents often name us."

Draco stopped. "Elves have two names?" He shook his head. He guessed he was stupid for not thinking elf parents didn't name their children.

"No, we house-elves only have the horse names our wizarding master typically gives us," the elf said mischievously before punching himself in the eye.

Draco laughed. "Yeah, I hate a lot of those names. I mean, really! Blinkin? Dobby? Winky?"

The elf snorted at the last name, slapping himself in the jaw as punishment.

"What is your other name? The one your parents gave you."

The elf giggled suddenly. "Are you sure you want to know, Master Draco?"

Draco stared. "Why?"

"My parents named me Harry Potter, sir."

"What?" Draco stared in horror before collapsing to the floor in uncontrollable mirth. He wiped the tears from his eyes. "I love it! Harry Potter it is!" A shimmery light encased the two.

"Potter, fetch me some sandwiches and pumpkin juice, would you?" Draco said with a smirk. He wasn't really hungry. He just wanted his father to hear the name of his new house elf. Lucius dropped the parchment he was holding and stared at his son in disbelief.

"Of course, master," the elf said, chuckling at the elder's face. He vanished with a pop.

"Potter? You named him Potter?" Lucius said incredulously.

"Harry Potter actually, Father. Don't you find it fitting?" Draco grinned. He didn't tell him it was already the elf's name.

Elder Malfoy snorted. "Very fitting. Actually, I was going to suggest you name it Granger if you hadn't thought of a name by now."

Draco's grin fell.

Elder Malfoy noticed. "Draco, you don't have designs on the Muggle-Born, do you?"

Draco scoffed. "Of course not! I only…I think she's hiding something. I aim to find out what it is!"

"If you find out she's a werewolf, maybe Dumbledore will bribe you to keep silent," Malfoy laughed as he exited the room.

Pop. "Here's your lunch, Master Draco, sir. Also, I have news on the target, sir. She has named the elf Frusha, her own Enthusi name."

"I see. Anything else?"

"No, sir. Apparently, Frusha refuses to discuss anything having to do with the melanic markings…or the transformation. I sense that Frusha has created a secrecy bond of her own free will."

"You mean, Granger didn't force her to keep quiet about it?"

"No, she did not. But she might as well have. Frusha's bond is so strong that she completely ignores any question on the subject that I give her. It also stands to reason that Frusha may tell her master of my inquiry. She knows I am bonded to the Malfoy family."

"Or to me," Draco said proudly, with a small hint of irritation.

The elf shrugged with a mischievous glint. "I…might have left that part out intentionally."

Draco glared at the elf. He wanted the golden trio to know he personally owned an elf. "Why?"

"Because Frusha isn't knowing whether the questioner is young master or old master. She may decide it's simply curiosity on my part. She'd be more suspicious if she knew I had changed allegiances. Therefore, there is still a chance she might not tell her mistress. There's something else…Frusha referred to her mistress as Ladyship and began punishing herself. The girl must have told her not to call her that."

Draco nodded. "I can see why. It would certainly arouse suspicion." Well, I'll still call her Mudblood. Maybe it will stir things up, cause her to slip information.

Lucius slipped slowly away from the door. He hadn't planned on eavesdropping on his son, but the word target had caught his attention. Melanic markings? Transformation? Ladyship? Perhaps his son was right. Granger was hiding something. The question was, was it important enough for him to investigate personally? No, it seemed Draco had developed an interest in it. Lucius was sure Draco would tell him if he discovered something important.