1 Awakening

The first offense was a rank smell. It stunk like a sewer, some combination of sweat, shit, and old waste. I gagged but kept it in, cracked open my sore eyes, and yawned while stretching.

A darkness concealed the surroundings, but a crack of light shone through a gap some feet away. It looked like the space under a door. I pushed myself up.

A banging sound came from the ceiling, and a hollow pain accompanied it. I recoiled from the rude wake-up and rubbed the sore spot. A squeaky voice escaped my lips that I would deny happening even under the threat of torture. Who the fuck built this bed and where the hell was I?

"Dobby," came a shout from somewhere outside the room.

Dobby? Someone's a Harry Potter fan. I sneaked towards the light. Now, coming closer to it, I noticed a handle above my head. I twisted it.

Half expecting to see a furry dog skipping past the opulent hallway and a child running after it calling for Dobby, I instead faced a boy with blond hair.

He had an arrogant sneer on his face.

"What took you so long? When I order you, you better move instantly. Do I make myself clear?"

"Say what, bitch?"

For a moment he transformed into the look of a fish out of water, but it turned furious just as fast. I connected two and two while the blond buffoon remained stunned.

I was in the Harry Potter world. That or this was someone's idea of a bad cosplay session. So before the little Malfoy got his wits about him, I cocked my fist and punched him in the nuts.

He went down with a huff. If I was the ragged house-elf from the series, then surely I had wandless magic. With a snap of the fingers, I turned invisible.

I ran.

The hallways twisted left and right, and they seemed to have no end. It didn't help that my legs were stubby and huge for my size, causing me to stumble more than make distance.

There were shouts of anger behind. One of them was a male and the other a female. They must have been the parents. I didn't feel like walking back to my death, so I needed a way out.

House-elfs could apparate, right? I'd been to London twice on business in my past life. The familiar locations cycled through my mind until I settled on one.

It was an alleyway near a nightclub. A simple intent and a stomach-curling twist later, I stood in the empty alley. Although it looked alike to the one in my memories, it seemed less dirty and in better shape. The club was nowhere in sight.

My clothes were ragged, and I was dirty. I had no money, nor friends. This development thoroughly fucked me.

"Think dammit."

Some people walked past the alley, and thankfully, none of them paid attention to the noise. The squeaky, grating voice would have to go, eventually. I was a man, and I'd be the first damn elf to speak with bass, rules of mother nature be damned.

Plans came first. I needed a safe place to stay and some money for the wizarding world. I could easily steal what I needed from the muggle world. The familiar stink I'd sensed in the manor interrupted any further thinking.

It came from the dirty potato sack. I removed the invisibility and only now noted my appearance; Lanky arms, disproportionate feet, crooked posture were the first things standing out. A pair of bulging eyes stared back from a puddle on the ground. I needed a bath and some clothes.

The house-elf magic that kept them subservient to their masters was long gone. I felt no need to satisfy anyone's orders, nor any obligation to punish myself from my disobedience. I didn't need clothes to get freedom, as I was already free.

There was a hotel nearby. I'd stayed there in my previous life, and if this place was anything like my world, then it should be there. Recasting the invisibility required only a thought, and I was moving right after.

The hotel stood in its expected place. I skipped past the guard standing at the entrance and followed a middle-aged pair up the stairs.

They walked to the second floor and stopped before a door. Room 201, said the plaque. The woman distracted the man with her sensual touches, and he had trouble focusing on opening the door. I was half tempted to give him a magical wedgie to get a move on.

Finally, after a minute of wrestling with the key, the guy got the door open. They rushed inside, grabbing at each other all the way there. I followed them and let the door bang closed behind me.

In the room proper, the couple moved to the bedroom. I snapped my fingers, and they dropped to sleep. Next, I walked into the bathroom, not to be seen before a proper wash.

Some two hours later, it was a done deed. I stepped out of the soiled bathroom and I felt like a new elf. My previously dark brown skin was now just brown. Though I was clean, I stood stark naked. No way in hell was I putting on the rag again.

No one would see an invisible creature, so the nakedness was no bother. However, my first trip was to a nearby supermarket for a pair of boxers.

They were all too big, or at least the adult boxers were. I turned to the kiddie section with apprehension. No one would know, right? Right. I grabbed a pair, unboxed them, and put them on.

A grumble of the belly stopped any further plans, but it was a good thing I was in a store. I dashed to the nearest shelf with ready-made meals and grabbed a tuna sandwich.

It tasted strange on the new taste buds, subdued almost. This couldn't be! I was a lover of all foods in the past life, and I'd be damned if I let this new body enjoy them any less.

A trip to the chocolate section proved it a fluke. The sandwich was just shit. I let out a breath of relief.

Where to get money? Although, it wasn't a priority, as I could crash in someone's apartment. However, I wasn't planning to be a thief or a home invader. I probably still had access to old Lucius' vault at Gringotts, and I needed to act fast before they wizened up.

Would movie props work for apparition? A terrifying concept. I imagined the Gringotts' bank entrance I'd seen in the movies a dozen times, and I apparated.

The twist was short and sweet, and the white walls of the bank came into view shortly after. Success! Walking into the bank, I got a few curious stares from the people and the goblins.

"What? You never seen an elf before?"

The wizards grunted and turned their noses to the skies, and the goblins narrowed their eyes. I put my hands behind my back and whistled a tune. There was nothing to see here.

"Next," the teller said.

"I be Dobby, working for Master Malfoy. I be tasked with getting money."

The goblin looked stunned for a moment before its face turned contemplative.

"Do you not have Lord Malfoy's key?"

Right, the fucking key.

"I be forgetting it. I be going back for it. Good day, sir goblin."

I turned tail and walked towards the entrance. Looking back, I saw the creature staring at me with suspicion in its eyes. It lifted its gaze towards the guards at the entrance, and I knew he'd figured out my shit. Running with the enormous feet was a pain in the ass, so I opted to apparate. The crack and twist put me back in the alleyway I'd vacated earlier.

This time, however, the place was stock full of robed men. My mouth curved into a grimace, and I barely stopped myself from making a sound. Their backs were to me, so they didn't notice. I reapplied the invisibility and hightailed it.

So the bank was out. The wizards were onto me, as clear from their search of the alley. Good thing I walked to the hotel, so they probably didn't get any clues to follow.

The magical world was out as well, considering the situation. If I couldn't get money, and I was an elf, they'd never allow me to do things like normal wizards. I needed a place to stay, anyway. Where to go?

Harry was on Privet Drive, but how old was he? There was a discarded newspaper in the bin nearby. I grabbed it and looked for the date.

Today was July 23rd, 1991, a day before Harry got the first letter. He was gullible enough to fool. I could go to him and be his friend, then help him discover his fortunes. And by some miracle, I could be his little assistant, who had access to his key.

The Potter fortune wouldn't mind if a few galleons went to house Dobby for services rendered. What a dastardly plan. I let out a villainous cackle. Had someone heard it, they'd probably think it was a mad cat, choking on a fur ball. But how would I get there? I'd been to London, but where the hell was Privet Drive?

The current year didn't have Google Maps, but the library surely had some paper ones. However, where was the library? I couldn't exactly ask a random stranger where I'd find one, or could I?

A man walked past the spot. I pushed him with telekinesis into the nearest alleyway.

He stumbled and crashed into a bin after hitting the ground. Yeah, he wasn't getting up in a second. I grabbed a piece of metal from the trash and put it to the back of his head.

"Don't move or else," I said in my squeaky voice.

"Please, don't hurt me. I'll give you anything you want."

"Where can I find the library?"

"What? Please, take my money."

"You stupid bastard. I don't want your money. Where's the library?"

He went into a daze, thinking of the question. I had to push the metal deeper into the man's skin.

"Okay, I got it. British Library! It's right next to Kings Cross Station."

"Where is that?"

"You just follow the big road. Go right onto York St and from there turn left. Then go forward until the big road. Can't miss it."

"Right. You wouldn't be lying?"

"No, sir."

"You forgot to tell me which way after that. Don't play games."

I pressed the impromptu weapon as deep as my weak muscles allowed me. It drew a bit of blood.

"Please."

"Fucking hell, friend. Just say which way."

The exasperation dribbled from my voice.

"To the right! There's a big bloody park going that way, and the library is just ahead."

"I hope you're right."

I stunned the man and skipped on out of there.

Following the directions led to a park. A mile beyond that stood the library. Getting inside was as easy as breathing. I followed the guides and found the section on geography. Then I searched for the maps for Privet Drive.

There wasn't just one fucking place, but five, and they were all miles away. How the hell was I to find him?

"Wait."

If I could apparate by memory, couldn't I go there as well? The imagery of the place came from the recesses of my brain, and I hoped it was right.

"No time like the present."

A twist and pop later, the two-story house stood ahead. I heard some vague shouting coming from inside. The sounds were a mixture of a boy's and a man's, so I knew I got the right place. A moment later, the boy I'd been looking for stumbled out of the house.

Harry was every bit as malnourished as the books suggested, and he had the signs of a beating on him. He settled down at the flowerbed by the windows and got to work. I approached under invisibility, circling the boy and moving to the side of the house.

"Hey, Potter."

The boy's head snapped up, and his eyes bulged. They almost matched mine in size. How cute.

"Yes, you."

"How–Who–What?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, Harry. We should talk."

The boy got off the ground and walked to the shade by the corner.

"What are you?"

"Me? A friendly neighborhood elf, of course."

"An elf? But those don't exist."

I lifted my brow, giving him the "really?" look.

"I'm Dobby," I said, and offered my calloused hand.

The boy numbly shook the hand. It was only now I noticed how ragged he looked. The clothing was an atrocity, and he barely had any baby fat on him. A suffered boy, indeed.

"Do you like it here?"

He looked hesitant to answer. I could tell he wasn't ready to spill the truth.

"I saw them mistreating you, and I came to help. So, what say you?"

Now he sported a sheen of tears in his eyes, but he tried blinking them away.

"We're alike, you and I, both servants to cruel masters. I've escaped my bonds, and now I'll help you with yours."

"But why me?"

"Believe it or not, there's a book series about you."

"What–"

"It means you're famous."

"But I couldn't be."

"Look, kid. Do you trust me?" I said with what I thought was a friendly smile.

"No."

I sighed. Fucking scheme wouldn't work, and I didn't feel like adding kidnapping to my growing list of crimes today.

"Sorry."

He went back to his work. I shook my head and apparated back to the hotel.

The staff was busy hosting some event, and a gaggle of new guests kept the front lady swamped with work. I tiptoed my way under invisibility to the computers at the desk, and I checked to reservations open on the screen.

Most rooms had someone in them, which meant there were plenty of victims. I chose the second to highest floor for the view and walked up there. Next, I broke into a room with the elf equivalent of alohomora and plopped down on the wide bed.

There was a menu next to the phone. A beef wellington would surely make the day. I grabbed the handle, dialed the number, and listened to the ring tone.

"Room service. How may I help you?"

"I'd like the beef wellington up to my room, pronto."

"Of course, sir."

"And maybe a bottle of wine."

"Yes, sir."

"And why don't you throw in a bowl of ice cream? Charge it to my credit card."

The man settled the order. I slammed to handle down and settled in for a wait. Today would be one of indulgence, and tomorrow one of planning.

Except, no one said elves shouldn't drink. The morning hangover was the worst I'd ever experienced in either of my lives. My head felt like there was a construction crew inside.

"For fuck's sake, stop banging."

It didn't stop. I looked up to see an owl at the window, banging the glass. I got up, stumbled to the latch, and wrestled it open.

The bird landed on the table nearby. It offered a leg with something attached to it. I blinked my eyes a few times to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. I wasn't, and I just got my Hogwarts letter.

"What the bloody hell are you?" came a voice from the entrance.

The voice spooked me, and in my panic, I banished the man away. He flew across the air, stumbled from the fall, and hit his head on the door frame on the other side. The following crack was anything but pleasant.

The man's neck twisted at an unnatural angle. I didn't know if it was the push or his considerable mass that broke it, but he was thoroughly dead.

"Shit."

I levitated the tubby man into the room and slammed the door shut. How to deal with this mess? I looked around for help.

This was definitely an accident. The man slipped, coming out of the shower, and broke his neck. I hummed.

"That could work."

I didn't enjoy taking off his clothes, but it was necessary. The second part was even worse–I had to wash him. Then I laid him in a spread-eagle across the floor with his head on the bathtub's edge. I squeezed some of the cheap shower gel on the floor and ran his foot over it.

"There."

The macabre work took me off the inevitable, like the fact that an elf got a Hogwarts letter, but worse, they addressed it to the room. I couldn't damn well keep a corpse in the bathroom and entertain a professor just outside of it. That and I was an elf.

Maybe I could pass off as a half-elf? I looked at the tops of my flabby ears in the mirror, the one too high for me to look into. A three-quarters elf then? Shit.

First thing, answer the letter and state I'll be there. Penning a response took but a minute. Then I tied it to the owl's leg and shooed it away.

I needed the crap mentioned in the letters, and that meant going to Diagon Alley. Wizards and witches might recognize me and report me to Malfoy, but even then I'd stand out buying a wand. Then again, I had the upper hand. None of those uppity fucks would expect a preemptive attack from me.

First, though, I needed money. A sneer of distaste came onto my face without me even trying. I didn't like stealing, but needs must.

Second, the supplies. I could probably play the ever helpful family elf and buy most of the stuff without rousing interest. The robes were tricky, as there were no three feet tall first-years. Maybe I could shrink them? No, charm them to do that.

Last, the train ride. The maggot Draco would be there, and he'd throw a tantrum, seeing me. Maybe I could punch him again? No, too childish. I'll out talk the daddy's boy.

An elf with a wand? I'll be legendary.