Preparations

Did the ministry track house-elf magic? The answer was a resounding no. No one showed up to see the dead man, nor the use of magic.

The guy had some money on him, but it was a pittance. Assuming a five pounds to a galleon exchange rate, I had a whopping five galleons now.

The window was still open, and the fresh breeze of the late summer air felt otherworldly, at least compared to the future. I sat on the windowsill.

There were a few days before most new students bought their supplies and a month before the school year started. Why did I, a criminal of all people, get chosen? Surely the future had better minds to push into a lush world like this, people who could make a difference. Perhaps it was supposed to be my punishment.

Except I wasn't serving anyone. This was my sandbox, and I'd live like a king. First, I needed a place to stay for the next month. A trunk would do.

The quiet of the hotel room changed to the bustle of Diagon Alley with a simple pop. I walked into the shop that sold trunks.

A little bell rang after opening the door, and a man walked into the open.

"What can I do for–Oh, it's just an elf. What do you want? Be quick about it."

"Sir, I be needing a trunk for master, a big one."

"One with compartments? Who's your master?"

"Lord Malfoy is master."

The man's eyes widened, and a genial smile replaced the frown.

"For Lord Malfoy, I have only the best. Let me just go to the back."

The bumbling man practically ran into the room in the back. I waited long enough for him to vanish before I grabbed a hold of an expensive-looking trunk and apparated away. House settled.

Muggle London probably had enough cash moving in it for the rest of the supplies. I walked around under invisibility until I found a gang of familiar looking men. Criminal to another, they looked amateurish.

The first man was the customer guy, who directed addicts to the distributor. I followed a skinny teenager to an alleyway.

He bought a bag of something white, then vanished beyond the corner like his ass was on fire. I threw a stunner, watched the dealer go down, and hopped up to loot him.

His back pocket had a thick wad with at least a thousand pounds in it. Business was good here. I grabbed all of it and left.

"Let this be the last time."

The same goblin guards stood at the entrance of the bank as before. They didn't even look at me as I walked past them.

Inside, there were many more people than the previous day. I walked up to the teller, one different from the last, and cleared my throat.

"Sir goblin, I'd like to exchange these muggle pounds to galleons for my master."

The creature narrowed its eyes as he took the wad of cash.

"I see."

He counted it, one bill at a time, for what felt like forever, before he snapped out of it.

"One thousand, one hundred, and twenty-five pounds. It comes to a two hundred and twenty-five galleons. Would you like a bag with it?"

"Yes, sir."

"That'll be five galleons."

"Sure–Yes, sir."

Despite the slip up, the goblin performed the exchange without problems. I walked out of the bank with a hefty bag of money and destinations in mind.

The clothes make the man, so that was first. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was the place to go. Walking past the door, another clink of a bell announced my presence.

A family of four turned to look. They sneered at my sight, and I heard them mumble something about nasty elves. I swear, these racists would learn in time.

It took about an hour before the family was done, and they called in the next customer. I stepped up to the podium, where the lady was waiting.

"You can't be serious. You're serving an elf before me?"

I spun to face the one who said that and saw a lanky man before me.

"Master's orders."

"I don't care about your master. You can wait until I'm done."

I bit my cheek to curb the uncharacteristic reply.

The woman about to work merely stood at the podium, getting ready to work. It was obvious she had no interest in interfering with the argument. I needed clothes far more than I wanted to show him his place, so I stepped aside.

"The good sir goes first."

The man sneered and stepped up.

"At least you know your place."

Another hour of waiting and the arrogant bastard was done. The woman waited with a smile for me to step up again.

"What can I get for you, elf?"

"Robes, three sets, and throw in one of those pointy hats. All my size."

She looked at me like I was queer, but she got to work, regardless. I paid once it was done and walked out of the shop as a new elf.

"Is that an elf?" someone mumbled and pointed at me.

I ignored them and kept my back straight. Haters would hate, no matter what.

The other supplies were easy in comparison. They must have thought I worked for a family of strange wizards.

The last item on the list was a wand.

"I'll be right there," said a man from the back of the shop.

He returned with a box, but quirked his eye as I walked out of the shadows.

"Can't say I've ever served an elf. What can I do for you?"

"I need a wand."

The man stared at me for a good ten seconds in silence.

"Right, of course. Which is your wand hand?

I lifted my right hand.

"Here, try this; An ebony wand with unicorn hair, ten inches and yielding."

I grabbed the stick and waved it.

A bookshelf on the right exploded.

"Definitely not. What about this? It's pine with dragon heartstring, eight inches and rigid."

The connection was immediate, and the wand let out a dozen happy sparks.

"Second try. A most unusual wand for the most unusual owner."

I gave him a look that said, "hurry it up".

"Throw in a holster, please, and how much is this all?"

"Seven galleons for the wand and three for the holster."

I stuffed the coins on the man's desk, grabbed my stuff, and hightailed it out of there. There was a month before school started, and before that I wanted to put some muscle on my twig arms. If time permits, study the books as well.

The next month passed in a flurry of routine activities comprising weightlifting, eating, studying, and pondering.

Should I even take the train? There were distinct pros to taking the ride to Hogsmeade, and not just the obvious. The alternative, of course, was apparating there.

The pros of taking the train: meet many people, make some acquaintances, impress malleable kids, and get in good graces with the protagonist.

The cons, however, it was a multi-hour ride, sitting down with kids; On top of it all, I was a house-elf, and those bigots would make the hours long with their incessant questioning.

Making friends with Harry Potter was a boon, one not easily dismissed. He had plot armor thick enough to shield me when push came to shove, and I never intended on being another collateral death among the masses. Better take the train, just in case.

I made two trips to Diagon Alley before school started. First, to buy potions for malnutrition. In actuality, I used them to complement my try-hard bodybuilding routine. Dobby's body had been weak, and I couldn't afford that. In no time at all, I put on some much needed weight. Now, I just needed to rock the bald head.

The second visit to the alley was to gain some more books. Despite being out of prison for the first time in decades, even if it took place in an alien body, I still enjoyed reading. It had been my only comfort in the small cell, and doing it kept the loneliness at bay.

Even trying to socialize often ended in disappointment, with many assuming elves were like children. Either they didn't take me seriously or they considered me a pest. It made me think about a glamor, but it would have only bitten me in the ass later. I'll show these damned wizards I'm better than the lot.

###

The English countryside passed by as the train moved further and further from the station. I arrived no less than a minute too late and barely made it on board.

The first cabin was stock full of teenagers, probably thirteen years old. I passed them, and none of them even noticed. Then again, only my ears peaked past the cabin door windows.

It was a very similar sight in most of the other cabins. In fact, it was all the way to the middle of the train where the first empty cabin came up. I wrestled the door open and levitated my larger than my body trunk into the rafters up top. Next, I plopped down on the nice cushions and let out a long sigh. When I opened my eyes, I noticed I wasn't alone.

It was Harry Potter.

"Dobby?"

"Shit. Of course, I had to walk into the one cabin with the boy-who-lived," I mumbled.

"Sorry?"

"Never mind that, friend! 'Tis me, the friendly neighborhood elf."

Harry looked a bit weirded out. Perhaps I should cut the friendlier than thou act. We looked at each other in an awkward silence before I coughed.

"Right. Are you looking forward to seeing the school?"

"Of course. I only found out—"

"Excuse me," came a voice from the door.

It was Ron Weasley peeking inside, and he'd spew his shtick about not finding empty compartments next.

"Oh, never mind," he said.

I did a double take at that and watched the kid walk out. Then I looked at Harry. We both looked at each other with our eyebrows raised in confusion.

"What do you suppose that was?"

Harry shrugged. I followed his lead with one of my one.

The first half of the train ride was both quiet and noisy. Our next-door neighbors were constantly in between a shouting match and being as silent as a grave. Their ceaseless banging on the compartment walls disrupted my reading time for the umpteenth time, making me grit my teeth.

A loud thump sounded from the wall towards the front of the train. I took a deep breath and snapped my fingers.

A comfortable silence fell over the compartment. Then I let go of the sigh I'd been holding.

"What was that?"

I looked up to see Harry watching me with his eyes bulged.

"Just a charm. It's called the Imperturbable charm, but we elves can snap our fingers to do it."

"Wicked."

"I'm awesome, I know."

The door snapped open. It was Hermione, and she had red around her eyes.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Harry looked my way, and I shrugged my shoulders. He took it as acceptance and invited the girl inside.

She cracked open a book almost instantly after settling. It was a stark contrast to the girl from the book. I didn't mind, but things were going different to what I expected.

"So, new girl. What's your name?"

Like caught in headlights, she opened her mouth and eyes. Her startled look lasted all of one second until she turned my way. It was only then she noticed I was even there.

"You're a house-elf. I've read about you. My name is Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you. What house are you going to be in? Do you know the professors? I like Professor Dumbledore the most. He was in Gryffindor, by the way. That's where I'll go. I–"

"Jeez, girl. Calm down."

Her mouth closed, and she looked a bit embarrassed. There was an undercurrent of hurt, as well.

"I'm Dobby, the friendly neighborhood elf."

"Isn't that from spider man?"

"Eh?"

Shit, the girl knows.

"He's my role model. Anyway, who's our friend over there?"

Hermione's head snapped to Harry, and I grinned at him.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

Hermione and Harry exchanged their pleasantries, but that was it. There was no fan girl behavior from Hermione over his status as the boy-who-lived. It disturbed me how different things were from canon.

"Say–"

The door slamming open interrupted my words.

We all turned to look at the new arrivals. It was Malfoy, of all people, with his two cronies.

"He isn't here either," he said as he studied our faces.

He was already turning away when he did a double take on me.

"You!"

Draco's face was turning a shade of red and I could see his anger rising by the second. It was quite the comical sight.

"What are you doing here?"

"Attending to my schooling, of course. What did you think, chump?"

Hermione and Harry's heads swiveled between me and Draco, who looked purple. He let out a scream of fury, and he charged inside. I cast the full body-bind curse and watched the little shit fall on his nose.

The crack was only slightly satisfying. Grabbe and Goyle tried to run into the compartment, but they blocked each other at the door with their bulk. I laughed and repeated the curse on the buffoons. Next, I levitated Draco into the hallway beyond the view of the compartment.

"I'll be right back, friends. I'm taking these rule-breakers to the prefects," I said to Harry and Hermione.

They stayed in the compartment, and Hermione even nodded with a self-satisfied smile. Of course, I had no intention of doing that. I dumped the trio into the nearest toilet and unzipped my trousers.

Draco's eyes swiveled wildly at what he was looking at, and he was no doubt regretting his actions now.

"Let's hope you learn from this, Drakey. Remember; no tellin' daddy."

The piss streamed into his face. He could move no muscles, but I saw the pure hatred in his eyes. This would probably make us mortal enemies until the end, but I had the upper hand in skill, in magic, and in age. Once done, I zipped back up and walked back to the compartment.

"He's the boy-who-lived. Of course he can bring any pet."

I heard the words in the compartment next to mine, and they made me stop in my tracks. Looking inside, I spotted the strangest sight.

Neville Longbottom sat, surrounded by five others, and he looked nothing like his movie counterpart. For one, his face was the picture of arrogance while he looked down at the surrounding people. The other looked at him in awe, and they kept stroking his ego with empty platitudes.

So Harry wasn't the boy-who-lived here. If that was different, then how many others were? I returned to the compartment, stuck in my thoughts.

Some time later, the lady with the food cart came by. Harry bought only a few items and insisted we shared them with him. It was a friendly gesture.

The rest of the ride was a mixture of reading, talking, and pondering. How many things could I change without fucking everything up even worse? The first year was a clear cut example.

I was under no illusions about Voldemort's resurrection. It would happen no matter what I accomplished. Rather than worrying about that or Quirrel, I should rather get the stone instead. With it, I would have infinite gold.

I could expose Pettigrew. There would be no third year with the dementors and he'd get a family of his own, a better outcome for all.

I could deal with the diadem horcrux and get myself an intelligence booster. Surely, Hogwarts had the means to exorcise it without destroying the vessel. It might even help me learn quicker.

Occlumency. That shit went onto the top of the list. There was no way in hell I'd let barmy old codgers or bitter bats poke around in my mind without repercussions.

It all needed plans within plans, and a bit of luck on top. If I succeeded, I'd make things better for the next few years.