"We have to stop doing this Draco, it's not healthy.
It has been almost 8 years since the battle of Hogwarts, and Draco Malfoy would like nothing more than to disappear... but he has a sick mother to care for, an estate to manage, and an appointment...
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Mr. Malfoy,
Please confirm your appointment on April 25th with the Office of Elfish Welfare at the Malfoy Family Estate in Wiltshire.
As you know, the O. E. W. is a division of the Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic.
As you have also been made aware, recent initiatives have been included in your contract as a facilitator for Elven employment; any questions you have about compliance may be discussed in full upon visit.
Please send the accompanying forms a week before the scheduled visit.
All forms must be signed by Wizard and Elf.
Please expect my Floo at 4pm on the 5th.
Regards,
Hermione Granger
Coordinator of Elfish Welfare
~*~
Draco Malfoy sat upon an ancient couch in the receiving room of Malfoy Manor, exactly one week away from the 8th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.
He had thought it a joke, not just that he was meant to meet with Hermione Granger for her to stick her nose into the treatment of his house-elves, but that it would occur one week before the anniversary.
He waited for an owl to reschedule, to cancel, to assign someone else to him, but none came. So here he sat, on April 25th, with his leg bouncing anxiously and fingers strumming rhythmically on the arm rest of the couch as he stared into the fireplace.
He'd arrived at 3:30 pm, and after a half an hour of pacing around and muttering to himself, he finally resolved to sit and wait.
~*~
At 3:59 a crack sounded to his right as his two elves appeared, Ceely and Risly.
Ceely, the older of the two, nodded to Draco reverently, while the younger and much smaller elf looked to the fireplace and trembled as if she had been left out naked in the snow.
As a matter of fact, the Malfoy elves were very adequately dressed, donned in modest green colored dresses that might ordinarily fit on a child's doll. The dresses clashed mercilessly, thought Draco, against the colorful socks pulled high upon their legs, a typical fashion for elves these days.
This was, of course, because Draco could not bear to look at them in the rags the elves his family owned growing up had been subject to, so he had ordered them to make decent clothing for themselves.
And although his elves weren't technically free, as they had a magically binding contract in place with the Malfoy family, the recent initiatives have allowed elves everywhere more time away from their duties to explore their interests and develop a culture outside of serving.
