Of Monsters and Men- Tom Riddle x OC

32

"Wow," Animo sniffed deeply, allowing the smells of butter and melted sugar to soothe the empty ache she had felt since her argument with Tom. It seemed that they fought more than they spoke these days.

"Poppy!" Toddy scolded a rather adorable elf who was currently cutting up a carrot, moving her hand in the air. The motion was in tandem with the knife so that it sliced through the flesh of the vegetables at rapid speed. "Smaller pieces! That one is for the stew."

Animo followed Toddy awkwardly, aware of the curious stares of the house-elves as she passed, although none dared to pause in their work.

"Here," Toddy tapped his foot on the tile in front of the furthest sink, making a footstool appear from the air, "Miss can help my nephew with the utensils." A disgruntled expression furrowed his wide forehead. "Only thing Toddy can trust him with."

Taking position in front of the sink, which was really more of a trough, Animo doused her hands in the warm water before letting out a squeak as her fingers brushed against flesh.

"Sorry!" a round head popped out from the suds, large green eyes blinking in her direction as the elf attempted a clumsy sort of bow. A few dribbles of soap dripped off the elf's ears, "Dobby finds washing dishes in the water much easier! His hands are too small to reach all the way into the sink."

Animo giggled at the tiny elf, who did a sort of backflop back into the sink as he sought to salvage a few more forks from the frothy mess. She accepted them as he handed them to her, polishing them with a thick linen napkin. "You said your name is Dobby?"

"Yes," Dobby squeaked, nearly impaling himself on a butter knife as he scampered over the drying piles and waved his hand, sending some of them flying into a nearby drawer. "This is Dobby's first year of service, miss! He is trying his hardest to please his master." Dobby paused in his sorting, seeming uncertain of whether it was proper for him to continue. "And what is your name, if Dobby is allowed to ask?"

"Ani," Animo responded, holding out a soaked hand before wiping it on her apron. Dobby eyed her extended fingers with a near fearful air, casting a wary look at the other working elves. "You can shake it," Animo nodded towards her hand once more, "you've been making my meals all week! I owe you!"

Dobby appeared rather horrified. "No! Never owe Dobby! Tis Dobby's duty, Miss Ani."

Animo slowly retracted her fingers, realizing that the elf would refuse to accept it. "So, how old are you, Dobby?" She had always wondered about the lifespan of house-elves. Albus had once mentioned that the ones in the Hogwarts kitchens served for decades.

"Dobby just made washer!" Dobby gestured towards his attire, which was a silk pillowcase fastened about his arms. The fabric was rather smooth, although the creature was sure to point out the handful of stains upon his chest. It appeared as though each smudge of grease was an achievement.

"Wait," Animo begin to piece together the information slowly. Her heart sunk. "You measure your age by your pillowcase?"

Dobby pointed over at Toddy, who was currently tasting a massive pot of pea soup. "See, Toddy wears the most noble of clothes! Tartan straight from the master's curtains." The elf leaned closer, though he didn't bother to lower his bright tone. "Dobby thinks they're from Paris, he does!"

Scanning the purple embroidered material, Animo tried to mask her horror that Dobby would be so proud by it. "I see." She nodded towards a pair of house-elves who were currently dressing a ridiculously large turkey. "And all of them are your family?"

"House-elves make family wherever they serve!" Dobby repeated the words as though they had been engrained in his memory, "Toddy is not really Dobby's uncle," the elf fixed her with his green eyes, "but when a master wants more helpers, he buys us and brings us to his home."