That certainly brought Draco up short. "I'm not like a Gryffindor," he snapped at Snape, before turning to the house-elf, who was by then cowering in the corner, hands covering his head. "Well? I thought you had a letter for me, Crubby!"
"Calm down, Draco," Snape advised. "And take no letter from his hand until I allow it. Come here, house-elf."
Dubby began rubbing trembling hands up and down his sticklike arms. "Dubby is obeying Mistress only," he protested a bit sullenly, shaking his head.
"You do what he says, you little twerp," Draco railed, "or I'll never take the fucking letter and you can spend the rest of eternity ironing your ears or something! Got that, Grubby? You do whatever he says! Shouldn't be so hard; that's what you're good at, isn't it, you filthy little vermin--"
"Draco, do calm down," Snape entreated, his voice not so much angry any longer as resigned.
Harry saw the Slytherin boy take a deep breath and hold it, presumably to prevent himself from bursting out into yet more insults and threats.
The house-elf hesitated for a moment more, then moved reluctantly to where Snape had pointed, standing still as the Potions Master fetched a piece of coal from his potions stores. Snape dropped it to the ground, then smashed it to powder with the heel of one booted foot. "Spread the coal in a circle around you," Snape instructed. "Use your hands, not magic, and leave no gap."
Dubby squeakily muttered as he did as he was told.
Snape began using his wand then, the tip of it blazing a strange dusky blue as he wove a net of spells around the elf. The Potions Master studied them for a moment, then apparently satisfied, nodded his head and allowed them to dissipate. Harry noticed that the spell seemed to have used up the coal. Certainly, Dubby no longer seemed bound by the former confines of the circle. Shaking himself all over rather like a wet dog, he wasted no time in scrambling away from all three wizards.
"He's still bonded to Narcissa alone, for what that's worth," Snape confirmed.
"I could have told you that," Draco snorted. "I did tell Harry that."
"If his bonds were changed once, they could have been again," Snape explained in an impatient tone. "And I will know if a creature beholden to Lucius Malfoy has entered my rooms!"
"Yes, sir," Draco muttered under his breath.
Snape ignored him, saying instead to Dubby, "Come here again, house-elf. Hold out the letter."
The house-elf crept forward by slow degrees, hunched over as though expecting Draco to kick him again. As Dubby extended the rolled parchment, Snape glanced over at Draco. "You've seen me examine correspondence arriving here enough, I dare say. Let's see what you've learned."
Furrowing his brow in concentration, Draco took the letter through the phalanx of spells Snape habitually used to verify a letter's sender and intentions. "Definitely from my mother," he finally pronounced. "It doesn't appear jinxed, or able to eavesdrop, or... well, it doesn't seem to contain latent magic in the least, actually."
Snape examined the letter himself, then nodded.
"Poisons," Harry suggested.
"The fact that the elf is touching it limits the range," Snape explained. "Not to mention that Narcissa's touch is all over the parchment."
"She even kissed it," Draco added, looking strangely vulnerable at the thought.
"Excellent detection," Snape praised him before turning to Harry. "And what is more, the dead tell no tales."
Harry understood that easily enough as a reference to Voldemort wanting Draco taken alive. And a hint that they had a rather big-eared audience.
"Yeah, well I'm still not touching it," Draco announced. "May I?"
Snape seemed to understand; he gave a sharp nod.
Sighing, Draco incanted Wingardium Leviosa and floated the letter out of Dubby's hand and onto a table where another spell made the scroll unroll. "My mother's writing," he murmured as he began to read. "Hmm."
"Draco?" Snape questioned.
The boy glanced up, his gaze a bit misted with emotion, though his words that rose to his lips were harsh. "Get rid of the little green-skinned shite so we can talk about it."
A high-voiced protest split the air. "Dubby must be waiting! Mistress said not to be leaving until Dubby had a reply to carry away!"
A malicious grin curling his lips, Draco drawled, "Well you won't get a reply, ever, Blubby, unless you play this our way! Yeah, yeah, I know you're Narcissa's elf, not mine, but you want that answer, don't you? So... why don't you just run along and find your long-lost cousin, eh? Yeah, you just go see how he's doing!"
Harry wouldn't have thought that a house-elf could pale, but mention of a cousin had Dubby's skin fading to a white-tinged green. "That one... here?"
Malice turned to pure recreation as Draco nodded. "Oh, yes. And such a disgrace he is. The way I hear it, he gets paid for his work!"
Dubby abruptly clapped his little palms over his ears and chanted, "Not true, not true, not true!"
Harry's eyes opened wide. "You don't mean--"
"Actually," Draco mused, smiling by then, "I don't think there's much work involved, at that. Yeah, Dobby mostly lolls around the kitchens stuffing his face and trying on new clothes--"
"Disgrace, disgrace, disgrace!" Dubby screamed, hopping up and down in his agitation.
"He's got an entire wardrobe stuffed full of clothes!" Draco gleefully reported. "Wizard's robes, mostly. I hear he steals them from the rooms he's supposed to be cleaning--"
A high-pitched wail split the air as a heavy silver candlestick flew through the air into Dubby's hand. He began whacking his own shins with it, each blow looking harsh enough to shatter bone.
"Stop taunting him, Draco!" Snape rebuked.
By then though, Harry had given up on Draco in favor of helping the poor elf directly. Kneeling down in front of Dubby, Harry snatched the candlestick and dropped it at his side, then grabbed both the elf's wrists and held on for dear life as the creature thrashed. "It's not true!" he yelled, not even knowing if Dubby could hear him through his own screams of anguish. "Dobby works really hard and he doesn't steal clothes and he hardly ever wears them, even! He goes around in that old pillowcase, all right?"
Dubby stilled. "Disgrace all the same," he muttered, and then eyeing Draco critically, asked, "Master Draco lied to Dubby?"
"Draco," Snape darkly warned, eyebrows drawn together in almost a straight line, "Get this situation under control, now. I mean it."
Clearly put out at having to give up his little game, Draco sneered, "Of course I lied, Slubby. How can you doubt that? You've got his word for everything. Honestly, would Harry Potter lie?"
Harry genuinely did think that Draco was trying to do as Snape had said, but in his anger, he'd miscalculated the effect of his words.
"Harry Potter!" the elf screeched. Quick as a flash, it had the candlestick again, only this time it was beaning Harry over the head with it. A horrible cracking noise echoed through the dungeon.
"That's it, the elf's dead!" Draco screamed, already lunging.
"Do I need to body-bind you to make you behave?" Snape didn't roar that time, but his words did carry.
Pulling himself up short, Draco frantically shook his head no.
Meanwhile, Harry had scrambled back, sort of crab-walking, to get away from the elf.
Dubby though, wasn't following up on his attack. His round eyes wet with tears, he had conjured a lit candle for the candlestick, and was methodically dripping hot wax on his toes, softly wincing and yelping with every drop. "Dubby attacked a wizard," he mournfully complained as though talking to himself. "Oh, bad bad Dubby. Evil wizard, but still, bad bad Dubby must be being punished--"