Exodus 2

We can no longer wait, we must leave. Complained Nott while closing the curtain of the cottage window.

Since the Quidditch World Cup final, the wizards responsible for their protection had all gone on a mission and never returned. At first, they hadn't worried. Their hideout had enough canned pumpkin pâté to withstand a siege without resupply (though after a week of eating only that, he would have killed just to see another dish). Then Nott had felt the spells cast by Dumbledore weakening. However, the weeks passed, September began, and with it came hooded men who regularly appeared near their home. So far, they hadn't tried to cross the perimeter, but the information they received from the ancient wizarding radio in the cottage didn't reassure them.

Normally, Nott wouldn't have paid any attention to the nonsense broadcasted in his news bulletins supervised by the ministry, but it was obvious that something serious had happened on the day of the World Cup. Whatever had happened that day, it had been serious enough for the broadcast to be cut off for several days.

First replaced by an uninterrupted musical background and then outright by the most distressing white noise. Especially when you had no other distraction than watching the food supplies dwindle before your eyes.

Briefly, the broadcast had resumed to air a call from Dumbledore to gather at Hogwarts. But quickly, the broadcast was interrupted again. Then, 3 days later, the broadcast suddenly resumed. Nott first felt relief when he heard the announcer calmly state that with the help of the international magical community, the English Ministry of Magic had regained control of the territory and would very quickly restore order in the country. Then he panicked when she triumphantly announced that there was nothing more to fear because from now on, Harry Potter himself would ensure their protection. Reflexively, he turned off the radio with a violent punch, and even though the big Muggle's face turned red, no one held it against him (in any case, he wouldn't have accepted a Muggle criticizing his behavior).

In the days that followed, the station contented itself with spewing out stories as epic as they were phantasmagoric, where Dumbledore, Potter, Malfoy, and the other pure-blood families set aside their differences to fight together against the evil that had struck their country. Once the battle was over, the evil had been pushed back, but not defeated. The survivors then rallied behind the one who, against all odds, had once again survived. It was a very painful listening experience however, they continued to subject themselves to it, because the rare times when the airwaves were not cluttered with tales glorifying the new leader and his exceptional talents despite his young age, they obtained snippets of information about what was happening outside. It was not a very effective method for staying informed, but as long as they refused to go out, they would not have a better one.

The old f... Your director said we should stay inside. Have some respect for your elders, young man. Vernon Dursley intervened to put an end to the boy's continual whining.

He couldn't believe that his son could have become friends with such a budding thug. Yet, that was what that witch in the clothes had claimed.eccentric when she had brought him a few weeks ago. To his great regret, Vernon had acquired some experience over the years in identifying troublemakers.

Indeed, it was rare for sons from good families to apply for a factory line worker job in his plant. And when it did happen, it was invariably an idealist who, after a few days, would go back to begging mom and dad to get him a connection for some administration job tasked with taxing or hindering honest entrepreneurs like him. Instead, he had to deal with drug addicts, young school dropouts, ex-convicts, single women, ... In short, all the social cases of the region (and to his great shame, a few undocumented immigrants).

Eventually, he had come to be able to differentiate at a glance the troublemakers from those who could be useful to him provided they were subjected to strict discipline (author's note: you can feel the lousy boss fond of toxic management). The eyes are a window to the soul, and Vernon had become an expert in the art of breaking down the different emotions visible in them. In most people, Vernon saw a clever mix of hatred, resignation, and sometimes hope. To his greatest pride, despite the trials he had been through, his son's gaze had never contained anything but love. But that of this Theodore Nott was filled with an anger he had never seen even in his employees with heavy criminal records.

Despite all his warnings, his wife had tried numerous times to make contact with the troubled teenager. She wanted at all costs to get news of Harry and he seemed to be the last one to have spoken to him. To Vernon's great despair, she still believed it would be possible to save Harry. She was convinced that something special had happened before he forcibly pulled her from that burning house. That she had established some sort of connection with the spirit of their imprisoned son. But for Vernon, all this was just nonsense from a woman with an overly developed maternal instinct.

It was for this kind of naivety that he loved her, but if she didn't quickly return to reality, she would end up getting them killed. Although sometimes, Vernon wondered if that wouldn't be better. The only thing that kept him from breaking down in tears at the thought of losing their two sons was precisely that he refused to think about it. Yet nothing reminded him more of the situation than Petunia's desperate attempts to save their son. She was convinced that if she could find a way to spend enough time with him without him killing her, then she could free him. The denials from Dumbledore or all the wizards who had taken turns ensuring their protection hadn't changed anything.

Silence, Muggle, do not speak of what is beyond you. Nott replied with annoyance.

Théo! Justin protested as he did every time he showed contempt towards them.

Even though Justin also found the Dursleys particularly annoying and did not understand the affection Harry showed them (especially with the suspicions he had about how they treated him), he could tolerate less and less his friend's behavior towards them. Not to mention that he did not hide that he was largely motivated by racist ideas that he refused to abandon against all odds.

Justin did not understand how someone as stubborn and incapable of concealment as Nott could have been sorted into Slytherin. For now, he had to accept the situation and resign himself to playing the mediator (or rather the policeman) between the Dursleys and the two Slytherins. Indeed, even if Blaise andThe Dursleys were not as oblivious as his friend regularly, without realizing it, they would make disparaging remarks that immediately offended the other side.

Justin still couldn't believe he had managed to stop them from tearing each other apart. If he had been cynical, he would have attributed this miracle of diplomacy to the fact that, as a true Slytherin, Blaise preferred talking to fighting. That since Vernon knew who the Finch-Fletchleys were, he had adopted an excessively obsequious attitude towards him and always found a way to bring the conversation back to the quality of the drills coming out of his factory and how much he dreamed of supplying his uncle's hardware store chain. Not to mention Nott's obsession with honor and the life debt he insisted on owing him. Justin would have almost taken the Slytherin's stammering when he announced it as a very touching (and rare) sign of gratitude, if he hadn't immediately added that since he was just a mudblood, he had better decide quickly what he wanted as payment and not be too demanding (thinking back, he missed a golden opportunity to have fun by replying that in exchange, he just wanted him to stop being such an idiot).

Nott replied calmly:

The first rule among the Notts is to never stay still. In a battle, there are those who flee, those who fight, and those who die. By staying here, we become easy targets. If we want to have a chance to escape the dark lord, we must keep constantly moving.

The second is to kill the Muggles?

What do you mean, kill Muggles? Asked Vernon angrily.

Not to never be predictable.

It was sarcasm. Justin clarified.

Even if you are Muggle-born, you should realize that this is not the time to joke, criticized Nott.

With you, it's never the right time. Blaise attempted with a smile and a pat on Nott's shoulder in the hope of easing the atmosphere or transferring to him the nervousness that Nott was barely containing since their arrival at the cottage.

But Justin did not agree:

No, let's stop beating around the bush. I thought you didn't believe in that kind of nonsense anymore. Otherwise, can you tell me why you refused to join Vou... Voldemort?

As Justin expected, Blaise and Nott flinched upon hearing the cursed name. However, he was surprised to hear the house creak and to feel uncomfortable for a few seconds.

What was that? Shouted Petunia.

An idiot who should know that one does not take the Lord's name in vain. Shouted Nott on the verge of hysteria.

It's just a name. And it's not my lord. And not yours either, in case you forgot. Unless you have regrets? You know, if you bring him our heads and lick his feet enough, I'm sure he'll forgive you.

As soon as he had spoken his words, Justin regretted them.

I ... Sorry. I didn't mean to say that. I trust you, it's just that ...

Nott adopted an expression intended to be indifferent and interrupted him with the authoritative tone characteristic of men accustomed to being obeyed without question from a young age:

As usual, you are wrong, but be quiet and listen.

Justin's first instinct was to protest and Vernon's was to start yelling at him for his delinquent behavior (and to find out if Justin was right to fear he might betray them). But a new, louder crack than the others convinced them to follow his orders. Now that he was concentrating, Justin and Blaise could feel that something was wrong with the already weakened protections of the cottage. Then suddenly someone knocked on the door.

Open up! I know you're there.

Immediately, they took up combat positions in front of the door and ordered the Dursleys to hide in a closet. They wanted to refuse, but Nott's threatening look and the wand he pointed at them convinced them to obey. He slammed the closet door shut, ordering them to call Dobby at the slightest problem to get them out of there. Until now, they had avoided calling the elf for fear that his magic would trigger the trace and reveal their location to Voldemort and his followers. However, as Nott expected, it seemed that their enemies had found them despite their precautions.

Open up, it's an order! You have nothing to fear. I am the paterfamilias of this district. If you don't open, I will have to call reinforcements to break down this door.

Justin glanced at Nott, who shook his head negatively and tightened his grip on his wand, ready to fight. To everyone's surprise, it was Blaise who took the initiative to defuse the situation by positioning himself between Nott and the door to force him to hold back, then began to shout in his most childish voice:

I can't, sir. Mom told me not to open the door to anyone.

Are you all alone here? How old are you?

I am 14 years old, I can manage on my own.

I don't doubt it, my dear, listen, I suspect you did it without meaning any harm, but if it's forbidden to say You-Know-Who's name, it's because there's a reason. If I don't provide an explanation quickly, the Ministry will send men to search the area, and you're not the only wizarding family to have taken refuge here. Let me in, and I'll make sure to mitigate the punishment. You wouldn't want your mother to have problems because of you, would you?

No sir. But uh, it's that. Stammered Blaise, visibly searching for an excuse. I don't have the key. He said after misinterpreting Justin's whispered suggestions, who slapped his forehead in despair.

Alright, that's enough. He's alone, we're three. We knock him out, we interrogate him, and we get out of here. Murmured Nott.

Unless he's lying and, in reality, there are dozens ready to kill us as soon as we open that damn door, retorted Blaise.

All the more reason to attack first and benefit from the element of surprise. Retorted Nott.

Boy, who are you talking to? Reasoned the voice of the old man through the door.

To no one, sir, I'm thinking out loud. I do that when I'm nervous.

The old man behind the door sighed:

What is your name, my boy?

Alas, Blaise Zabini.

What? Added Blaise in front of the expression of the other two who couldn't believe he had given his real name.

By some miracle, the man behind the door did not seem to recognize his relatively famous surname.

Pleased to meet you. I'm Andrew Guzman, you know, I have a son your age. I suspect you must be scared and have no reason to trust me, but I assure you that I am not your enemy. Open up to me, explain the problem, and we'll find a solution together. You know, here, we don't care about those blood stories. All that is nonsense that those pure-blood parasites invent to screw us over. I'll bet you that the ancestors of those degenerates who think they're better than everyone else didn't hesitate to sleep with the mudblood servant or the half-blood gardener. Just look at their faces. Just two days ago, a fine specimen showed up in the region looking for his son. He had quite a nose. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a couple of goblins well hidden in the family tree.

Not counting the character. I always told myself there had to be at least one troll.

I should point out that you too are a pureblood. Nott murmured on the verge of an apoplexy while Justin struggled not to burst out laughing despite his anxiety about knowing that Nott senior was on their trail.

No, me, I'm an upstart, remember. Blaise replied sarcastically.

Nott hesitated for a few moments, then finally lowered his head and simply said:

I am. I am sorry.

Faced with his miserable look, Blaise couldn't help but pat him on the shoulder.

It's okay, it's not a big deal.

And what about me? Don't I deserve an apology too? asked Justin.

Do you think it's the right time? We need to decide what to do with him. Nott replied, pointing at the door.

For show, Justin rolled his eyes and adopted a sulky expression, which he immediately dropped when Nott suggested:

It's me they want. I will go out and offer to surrender if they let you go.

Are you crazy? exclaimed Justin.

It's out of the question. Blaise retorted.

Do you see another solution? The protections won't hold if they decide to force their way through, and as long as I'm with you, my father will hunt you down. I'm screwed no matter what, but if I'm not with you, maybe the dark lord will forget about you.

We're not even sure he was talking about your father, Justin reminded.

Do you really think it's a coincidence? Nott mocked.

For all we know, it could be a lie to scare us. Or to test us. Justin replied.

That did not seem to convince him, so Justin changed his angle of attack:

Anyway, do you think he will forget the Dursleys too?

They are Muggles and of the worst kind, moreover. Their fate is of no importance.

You know what, I'm starting to think I was wrong to believe we could be friends, Justin snapped.

If he felt any pain, Nott showed nothing and replied:

And you only understand it now? You can't save everyone. In a war, choices must be made.

And if I refuse to choose?

Then you will die.

Anyway, I'm going to die. In your opinion, what is the life expectancy of a mudblood like me out there?

Don't call yourself that. Nott replied in an almost plaintive voice.

Justin replied, stunned:

Why? In case you forgot, that's what I am.

Well now that it is established that we are all going to die, could we decide on the manner? I vote to die of old age on a white sandy beach after Dobby has transported us far from here. Blaise interrupted them.

Immediately, the elf appeared.

Master Potter's friend called Dobby.

No, but you come at the right time. My mother has a villa on the French Riviera. Can you transport us there? Us and the Dursleys?

No sir. Too many and too far for poor Dobby.

And one by one?

The path will exhaust Dobby, sir. And it will be dangerous. The Dark Lord has turned the sleeve into a magical barrier. Dobby doesn't know if he can pass.

Wow! Really? exclaimed Blaise, visibly admiring, under the disapproving gaze of Justin and Theodore.

Why would we run away? I'm sure there aren't many of them. In fact, I'm almost inclined to think he's telling us the truth and that he's alone. Dobby can probably apparate behind him and neutralize him, suggested Justin.

No! Haven't you ever wondered why there are few places protected against elf Apparition? Nott replied.

Because it's not possible? Justin suggested naively.

Of course it's possible. Otherwise, pure-bloods imprisoned in Azkaban would just have to call their elf for help to escape. Nott explained with a haughty tone.

Because wizards are so proud that they are unable to imagine that an elf could harm them. Attempted Justin, annoyed by the professorial tone taken by Nott.

As surprising as it may seem, my father would agree with you. He has always found that wizards are too negligent towards inferior races. But the real reason is that our ancestors were so afraid of the elves' power that they ensured they could not attack the wizard even if their master ordered them to. It's part of the enslavement spells... Nott stopped immediately upon realizing his mistake.

Dobby is a free elf, sir. But Dobby senses 4 wizards hiding behind the rocks. Dobby may not be able to defeat them all. And Master Potter would not have wanted Dobby to harm them. Master Potter was good and …

Yes, we understand. Blaise interrupted, not wanting to hear yet another list of the supposed qualities of the survivor interspersed with sobs. Then Blaise added:

Listen, this may seem naive to you, but I believe him when he says he means us no harm. Otherwise, why would he be waiting patiently without saying anything for us to decide to let him in? Death Eaters would have smashed the door down without a second thought.

Or the protection spells are too powerful for him and he doesn't want to call for backup and admit his incompetence to his superiors.

What if we took the risk anyway? Besides, do we have a better choice? Insisted Blaise.

If there are only 5 of them, we can beat them. Especially if Dobby attacks them from behind and we take them in a pincer movement. Nott replied.

And after? Where do you want to go? Countered Blaise.

Afterwards, we have to leave the country. Nott replied.

And how? You heard Dobby. You-Know-Who has blocked the borders. He needs our help.

And it's to them that you want to address yourself? Nott scoffed.

Do you see anyone else? Blaise replied calmly.

Nott and Justin thought about it, but the only idea that came to them was the Order of the Phoenix or Dumbledore. He did not believe the radio bulletins that claimed his death, but he had no idea how to contact him. The best thing would be to go to Hogwarts, but how could they know if it was still a safe place? At the same time, if Hogwarts wasn't safe, then what could be?

But he could not pursue his reflections further, for the man behind the door spoke again:

Blaise, have you finished talking to yourself? Even though I'm impressed by your ventriloquism skills, I'm afraid I can't wait all day. Listen, I'm neither an idiot nor a fighter. I suspect that if you've been hiding here all this time, there's a reason. And I don't want to find out which of us is stronger in a fight. Here's what I propose: you give us a big pile of galleons and in exchange, we'll let you go.

Papa, you are crazy! Interrupted the deep voice of a young man in his twenties behind the door.

Yes, but in a world that has lost its mind, it's a sign of good mental health.

They will kill you when they find out.

If they find out one day. We'll just say that we found the house empty when we arrived.

Do you really think they'll buy that?

Why not? The only way he would find out would be if one of you reported me.

Even through the door, they felt the atmosphere tense up.

Father. Please, don't do that. This is already the third time you've helped resistance fighters. If you keep it up, you're going to get caught.

Oh, but stop it already. They won't tear me a new one. Okay, since he's been hanging out with all those purebloods, he's become a bit of an idiot with those old traditions, but he's still the survivor. He's just going to declare that my blood isn't as pure as it seems and find another sucker to manage the area. Let me tell you: it's all smoke and mirrors. If he's revived the old traditions of the paterfamilias, it's not because he's become a purist. It's just that with all those traitors leaving for Hogwarts and those Muggle terrorists, there aren't enough officials or Aurors to keep the purebloods calm unless he makes a few concessions to them.

Some concessions!? Les Brown, were those concessions too?

You know as well as I do that it's not that simple. And then they were asking for it. I'll tell you again, I met Potter and he is nothing like the madman the resistance describes. Despite his young age, he has such charisma. If you had seen him too, you would know that we can trust him.

So why are you helping them?

I don't help resistance fighters. I help children avoid suffering the consequences of their parents' poor choices. In his mind, he added to himself that, moreover, it brought him a lot of galleons.

Mom is right, you are a real stubborn mule and I should never have come back here.

Is that it, and you would have starved at Hogwarts with the other traitors?

It might be better. At least I wouldn't have a heart attack every time someone knocks on the door.

Yes, well, it's only temporary. As soon as our savior finds the terrorists and smooths things over with the traitors of Hogwarts, I'm sure everything will be back in order. On that day, you'll see that I was right to stay here.

Then Andrew heard a gigantic explosion behind him followed by a terrible scream. Before he could understand what was happening, two teenagers burst through the door screaming and began to bombard him with "expelliarmus" spells, which he easily deflected with a negligent wave of his hand. For children their age, it wasn't bad, and they had the intelligence to focus on a basic spell suitable for their level, rather than attempting more advanced spells beyond their reach. However, his two opponents lacked power and clearly had no experience in a real fight (neither did he, for that matter). Probably, in an attempt to muster courage, they stuck together instead of spreading out and attacking him from multiple sides at once. Moreover, they shouted their spells at the top of their lungs, making it very easy to anticipate and counter them.

Whoever their assailant was, he couldn't seriously expect his two children to compete with an adult wizard. Those bastards must have sent them to the slaughter to serve as a diversion. Thought Andrew.

He erected a shield and then gestured to his son to stay defensive and wait for those two fools to tire themselves out before stunning them (if possible without harming them). Meanwhile, he would go deal with the main threat. He turned around and started running into the bushes where his men were hiding. Then he suddenly dropped to the ground to avoid a spell that flew in his direction. He swore as he felt pain appear in his knee, but it was a small price to pay to escape the black flash that had missed him by barely a few millimeters.

He got up to see two of his men engaged in a duel against what seemed to be another child. Except he was of a completely different caliber. He wasn't fighting, but dancing while murmuring a series of incantations that almost resembled a song.

Without thinking, he came to Stéphane's aid who was about to be hit by a spell that seemed particularly vicious. He cast his most powerful shield just in time and the spell shattered against it with a sound resembling a cry of agony. Clearly, it was a spell not approved by the ministry. But he didn't have time to worry about that. Seeing him arrive, his men regained hope. The young dark mage, however, seemed unfazed and continued to run around muttering spells, each darker than the last, which they struggled to dodge.

After the most exhausting 5 minutes of his life, Andrew had to admit the humiliating truth. Despite being 3, this pest was holding them off. However, their opponent couldn't keep up this pace for very long, and beads of sweat were already appearing on his forehead. By levitating a rock to protect himself from what looked like a simple Stupefy (the spells hesending were now simpler which confirmed to Andrew that he was getting tired), he wondered what had happened to his other men. But he suppressed this thought. If he wanted to win, he had to stay focused. Once this monster was neutralized, he would have all the time to worry about what had happened to his other subordinates (and possibly avenge them). Then to his surprise, their opponent shouted:

DOBBY!

Andrew was on his guard, but for a few seconds nothing happened (except for the spells his opponent sent at him). Then a violent magical impulse propelled Stéphane into the air, and he crashed unconscious against a tree.

Bastard! shouted Andrew, turning around convinced that the real opponent had been hiding all this time.

But all he saw was an elf writhing in pain on the ground. He then realized that in the heat of the moment, he had made a terrible mistake. He had turned his back on his enemy. However, it was already too late. He barely had time to see the Stunning Spell rushing at him before he was hit and fainted.

oOoOoOoOo

Once his last opponent was defeated, Nott cast a Hominum Revelio and allowed himself a sigh of relief upon seeing that the surroundings were empty, then immediately raised his head. He heard the echoes of another battle in the distance. In fact, now that he was no longer focused on his own fight, he wondered how he had managed not to notice anything until now. Justin and Blaise were shouting so loudly that all the enemy reinforcements for miles around must have heard them. He cursed his two idiots incapable of staying out of sight as he had asked them. Even Dobby seemed to understand that amateurs would only get in the way since he had made him Apparate alone (ignoring the protests of the other two).

Then he started running, thinking about what his father would have done to him if he had dared such exuberance during their daily training sessions. He barely slowed down to glance at Dobby and make sure he was okay.

The initial plan was for the elf to discreetly apparate him behind enemy lines, and together they would immobilize the men hiding there. If everything had gone as planned, they would have stunned them all before they realized anything. A perfect plan that was thwarted when the elf cried out in pain after they had jointly surprised and immobilized two wizards hidden behind the mountain of underbrush surrounding the cottage. Apparently, his ancestors had done a good job ensuring that elves could never turn their power against wizards. Immediately, the alarm was raised, and Nott had to engage in combat with the two militiamen.

Nott arrived just in time to see an exhausted Blaise get hit by a spell he would only later identify as a simple Stupefy. In a fit of panic and rage, he threw all his father's training to the wind and shouted:

Avada K…

Before being interrupted by a "Expelliarmus" from Justin. The young man barely 20 years old facing them wore a terrified expression on his face upon realizing what had almost happened. Before he could recover from his surprise, Nott charged at him and, taking advantage of his speed, knocked him out with a violent kick. Despite his disdain for Muggles, his father recognized thevalue of their combat techniques and had taught them to him from a young age. Once he was sure that his young opponent would no longer hinder them, he shouted to Justin:

Can I know what got into you?

Excuse me!? Are you kidding me? You were going to kill that guy.

They saw my face. And they know Blaise's name. We can't let them live. Nott said with a dark look as he headed towards Blaise's motionless body. Noting that he was simply stunned, he extended his hand to Justin and asked authoritatively:

My baguette!

This one hesitated:

We don't kill anyone, they...

They tried to deliver us to the dark lord. They are enemies and we are at war. If you are not ready to kill, you might as well commit suicide right away, it will save us time.

Have you ever killed?

Nott lowered his eyes and replied:

I did not kill them, just knocked them out.

This evasive answer seemed to relieve Justin, but not enough for him to return his wand. So Théo sighed:

For the love of Merlin. And then you dare say that I have suicidal behavior. I swear on the honor of the Notts not to kill them without your sacred agreement.

Justin handed him his wand and asked:

We could forget them.

Enervatum! This spell is beyond our reach. Unless you want me to turn their brain into mush. I repeat, we have to kill them. And quickly. I remind you that we still have the trace. The ministry will soon send reinforcements. For all we know, my father is already on his way.

We don't have to kill them. Blaise said weakly, who had no trouble understanding what he was talking about.

You're not going to start too, are you? Are you sure you're a Slytherin?

It wasn't me who rushed alone into a 1 vs 5 fight. You know, red and gold would look great with your eyes.

I was not alone, there was Dobby. And DOBBY… He shouted, remembering that he had left the elf in a bad state.

Immediately, he heard a pop of Apparition and a still sickly-looking elf appeared in front of him.

Master Nott called.

Yes, prepare our luggage, we're leaving. Take only the bare essentials. Theodore ordered without showing the relief he felt knowing he was in good health. The elf would have been an immense strategic loss.

Do not speak to him as if he were your servant. Justin snapped at Theo for what seemed to him like the umpteenth time that day.

But the elf bowed before disapparating. Blaise, who had just gotten up, added:

Me, I'll make sure they don't report us. In the meantime, try to make yourselves useful, you deadweights. Honestly, I feel like I'm the one doing everything here. Honestly, what would you do without me?

For 5 seconds, Nott stood stunned at such nerve. 5 seconds, which Blaise used to run away, knowing that Nott would soon start chasing him under Justin's mocking smile. While trying to escape his best friend's attempts to murder him, he seriously wondered what theywould do if he were not there to occasionally remind them that they were in the same boat.

oOoOoOoOo

When he woke up, his face and clothes full of mud, the sun had begun to set. After 30 minutes of exhausting efforts, he and his men, still groggy, managed to overcome the protections surrounding the cottage. Andrew thought that although weakened, they were much more powerful than any he had seen before. Unsurprisingly, when he entered inside with wand in hand, he found only an empty house. Despite the presence of his son, he swore. Then he saw a note pinned to the kitchen table:

Sir, we took advantage of your sleep to escape, I hope you won't have any trouble because of it.

We have no money, but on the back of this letter, you will find an IOU from the Zabini family. As it does not bear my family's seal, the goblins will not accept it, but when this war is over, be assured that I will honor it. In exchange, I just ask you not to mention my name when you make your report to the Death Eaters.

The Death Eaters!? That kid has lost his mind. Another idiot who believes in Dumbledore's lies. Even dead, he has to stir up trouble. Andrew exclaimed while reading the end of the letter.

Then he glanced at the amount indicated on the back and nearly fainted. As discreetly as possible, he put the note in his pocket. When the letter informed him that after examining the purity of his blood, he had been appointed paterfamilias of the district recently formed by the new administration, he had thought that the few coins he would glean thanks to his new functions would barely compensate for the troubles that would befall him.

Of course, he had quickly changed his mind. He, who had always lacked money, had accumulated enough galleons in less than two days to settle all his debts. But if this Blaise paid his debts, he would be able to grease enough palms to send his three children abroad.

When he pushed the door of his home, he had never been so happy. But instead of the nasal voice of his youngest, a cold voice greeted him.

Mr. Guzman, I am Lord Nott. But I suppose you remember me. I am returning from the cottage where you intervened this afternoon. I have a few questions to ask you.

Andrew Guzman swallowed. The voice of the richly dressed man in front of him was not threatening, but his instinct screamed at him to run away. Unfortunately for him, his legs decided otherwise. Despite his will, he sat down and a long interrogation began.

oOoOoOoOo

Author's note: You are surely wondering how it is that Dobby obeys Harry's order to attack Lucius Malfoy at the end of my book 2, if there is a spell that prevents elves from attacking wizards even if their master asks them to? And this while Harry has not yet freed him. And besides, how does he manage in that case to attack Harry with the Bludger in the middle of that same book 2. You thought you had caught me in a contradiction in my story. Well, not at all. In fact, there is a very simple explanation. More than simple, I would say it is of such triviality that it redefines the very notion of argumentative simplicity. I will therefore have no particular difficulty ingive it to you as soon as possible and will therefore do so without further delay, because I know how important punctuality and brevity are for my readers, give you the explanation by... Oh! Look over there. Ninja!

The author throws a smoke bomb and runs away. After 2 hours of a flight as epic as it is exhausting, which led him to cross flooded rivers, charges of rhinoceroses, and a store at the start of sales, he had a flash of genius and found the explanation. He then made the entire round trip to return to see his readers and write the continuation of this note:

So, in fact, in J.K. Rowling's books there is a problem with the elves: they are way too powerful. Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts are two fortresses protected by an accumulation of protective spells cast by several generations of wizards over millennia (including Dumbledore for Hogwarts and Voldemort for Malfoy Manor), and yet Dobby can apparate there without any problem. Moreover, in book 2, it shows that Dobby manages to defeat, without any difficulty, Lucius Malfoy even though he is supposed to be one of Voldemort's best Death Eaters. Needless to say, if at the end of book 7 the army of elves serving at Hogwarts had the idea of fighting with their power rather than with pots and pans, they would have won the war easily.

To resolve their difficulties, I think it is mandatory for elves to be subject to a variant of Asimov's laws. Like the Muggles with robots, I think wizards considered the possibility of elves being used as weapons even before they finished creating them. Therefore, I think they implemented rules for them to follow that even their master cannot order them to break.

But we saw in the original books with Dobby and Kreacher that elves are so powerful that, at the cost of a great effort, they can interpret the rules they are subject to in order to give themselves liberties. Like all rules created by humans, they can be circumvented. An elf cannot use their powers directly against a wizard, but they can use them indirectly by controlling a Bludger or a frying pan. An elf can use their powers to immobilize a wizard without harming them (as Dobby does with Lucius) but not to harm them.

And it will be said that the spells preventing elf Apparition are too costly to be cast by anything other than a state. Blocked, the elves' power in a place would be the equivalent of going to the moon for Muggles. It's possible, but out of reach, for a school or a simple citizen, no matter how wealthy.

Or among wizards, the use of elves for war is the equivalent among Muggles of using the atomic bomb: a weapon so terrifying that its use, even in a limited manner, is a taboo which, if broken, would lead to all the countries of the world banding together against you. As a result, wizards do not use elves for war or to escape from Azkaban.

Or maybe the wizards are so stupid and racist that in several thousand years, they just never thought of using elves as weapons.

In fact, I think we can imagine thousands of ways to get out of this impasse. That's what makes J.K. Rowling's universe so great. It is as incoherent as the real world. So, without breaking the canon, one can create thousands of contradictory theories and all kinds of stories. The inconsistencies in J.K. Rowling's books are not weaknesses, but strengths for those who observe them with all the love of a fan.

Even if it doesn't pass Occam's razor, I will consider in this fic that the first explanation is the correct one. It will be more flattering for my characters and J.K. Rowling's universe.

Note from the proofreader: I will respond much more simply, I think, and without disparaging JK's work or your fic. More than a thousand years of voluntary servitude. Wizards do not fear elves because they despise them, and elves see themselves as natural slaves it would never occur to them to attack wizards. Throughout the saga, the only elf who wants to be free is Dobby. Winky becomes depressed once fired by Crouch and never recovers until her death. As for Kreacher, he worships his masters, the highly revered Black family. However, Sirius is disowned by his family, so he is no longer a master, just a renegade, and Harry is in the same situation since he is only his master because of Sirius. Thus, it is all the easier for Kreacher to interpret orders as he wishes, given that the two men are not considered those precious masters. He also listens much more readily to the portrait of a dead person than to the living who remain. This is just my interpretation.