I don't own Harry Potter (but I will buy him once I have enough money)

Well, here it is - the story I have started working on in December but then interrupted for "Orphan Child". I don't yet know how often I will post a new chapter for this one (or Orphan Child, for that matter), it depends on my mood. Sometimes, I prefer writing something more light-hearted while other times, I want to write hurt/comfort fics. I figured it would be best just to start posting this one so that I can choose more freely what to write.
I had a difficult time deciding what genre to choose when posting this story, and I might even change it in the future. I really want this to be a humourous fiction, but I don't know whether I'm any good at it. Sometimes, my humour can be rather dark. The adjective which probably describes the story best is 'bitter-sweet'. There will be a little bit adventure and is there any Harry Potter fanfic that doesn't have fantasy elements? I'm not yet sure about family and friendship, but I am sure that there will be no romance or angst.

I'm always happy about reviews.

I'm not a native speaker of English, so please excuse my mistakes.

From Human to House Elf

#

Harry Potter had always thought that he was human. An inferior human, sure, but still.

After all, Harry looked just like all the other kids at school. He had a head with two ears and eyes, a nose and a mouth, and even his body looked exactly like those of the other boys (as far as he could tell, anyway). He could even talk to them! Not that he did this very often, mind you, he had long since learned that staying silent usually was the better option.

Additionally, the teachers had told them that every child had to go to school and that you always had to behave and do what your parents told you. This was, actually, one of the reasons that Harry was quite sure that he was just like the other kids. The Dursleys were quite adamant about Harry obeying them unquestioningly. So if all parents were like his relatives, Harry was just a normal child and therefore human. Of course, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon weren't his parents, but Harry supposed that guardians were rather similar to parents – except that they didn't love you, of course.

The only thing that had ever led to Harry doubting whether he indeed was a human was that his relatives had called him "freak" and "ungrateful urchin" ever since he could remember.

However, the classes about the human body they had had some time during fourth form had erased all lingering doubts from his mind.

Harry had never questioned the fact that he had to clean and tidy up and help Aunt Petunia in the kitchen and weed the flowerbeds (in the summer) or make sure that there wasn't any snow on the pavement in front of the house in the winter while Dudley never had to do any chores whatsoever. He had just assumed that it was because he, Harry, was an orphan.

Later, after more and more weird things had started to happen around him, Harry had begun to think that this must be what his relatives meant when calling him a freak, and that it was this weirdness that set him apart from Dudley (and perhaps even from the other kids). And so Harry had accepted that, while still being human, he was inferior to other, normal people.

#

This view of life was called into question when a giant man told him that he was a wizard.

Of course, Harry didn't believe him.

However, when the giant insisted that what he said was true and that even his parents had been wizards and that there was a whole castle full of wizards somewhere in the UK, Harry became worried. He hadn't forgotten what the teachers had told them about mad people and that they could be rather dangerous.

Harry decided that, for now, the safest course of action would be to play along and to pretend that he believed everything the giant said. So he just nodded and smiled which seemed to satisfy the man, even though he looked at him somewhat strangely when Harry assured him that he didn't have any questions.

At some point, he even gave Harry another one of those letters that were the reason why his relatives had brought him and Dudley to this shabby hut on a rock in the middle of the sea. He didn't bother to read it. It was obvious that the giant had stalked them even back at privet drive. Now Harry could understand why Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been this upset about the letters. And now the man had even tracked them down here, in the middle of nowhere!

Secretly, Harry had hoped that the crazy giant would be gone in the morning – he had just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night, so why shouldn't it be possible for him to just disappear again? To his intense dismay, though, the giant was still there when Harry woke up. Even worse, he demanded that Harry had to join him to some strange alley in London.

Desperately, Harry looked at his aunt and uncle, who had come downstairs as soon as they had heard the giant's voice.

Probably to protect Dudley, Harry thought, as, judging by his screams last night, his cousin seemed to be even more afraid of the giant than Harry himself. Well, Harry supposed that if the man had threatened him with an umbrella, he would have screamed, too. To him, at least, the giant had been rather friendly so far.

However, it looked as if this would change soon, as his relatives didn't do anything to stop the man from taking Harry with him. He could only hope that the giant would kill him quickly. Harry didn't fancy to find out what exactly the teachers had meant when they talked about strangers who kidnapped children to touch them in weird places before killing them.

As the boat Uncle Vernon had borrowed from some man to bring them to the rock seemed to have a motor, after all, Harry timidly asked the giant to send it back to the island. Even though the Dursleys hadn't done anything when the giant had abducted him, they might still call the police once they were back at where a telephone was. It was Harry's only chance to be rescued from the giant in time.

During the train-ride, Harry wondered whether he should ask one of the other passengers for help. He didn't dare to go through with the plan, though. The giant looked as if he was strong enough to kill him with a single blow on the head.

It was only when the giant had led Harry through a hidden door that was located in the backyard of a rather shabby pub that Harry started to question his interpretation of everything that had happened during the last 12 hours.

Perhaps it wasn't the giant that was crazy but he, Harry, himself?

But then, if he was crazy and only imagining people in robes, people who waved sticks and made weird things happen, not to mention shops that sold stuff that wasn't supposed to exist or boys around his age that enthused about cleaning utensils, if he only imagined everything that was happening, how was it possible that he was aware of the fact that he was seeing things? People who were crazy didn't know that what they were seeing wasn't real, did they?

Harry didn't have time to dwell on these thoughts, though, as just now the giant motioned him to go past two of the weirdest creatures Harry had ever seen – and this included all the monsters and aliens from Dudley's video games. He gave the creatures a wide berth and followed Hagrid, who was just now muttering something about goblins, through the doors. Harry had barely time to admire the enormous hall before he noticed that there were even more of those strange creatures sitting behind the counters.

Harry had always envied Dudley when Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had taken him to a funfair, but when he and the man left the bank he decided that he didn't like rollercoasters at all. Furthermore, the gold coins that were now in his pocket eroded his belief that he had gotten crazy even further and Harry couldn't help but wondering whether what the giant had told him earlier might be true. And that thought didn't reassure him at all.

While the blond boy Harry met while buying some black dresses wasn't as scary as the 'goblins' or whatever they were, the brief conversation he and Harry had left him even more confused. The blond – who had introduced himself as Malfoy Draco - really seemed to believe that he was a wizard and, from the sound of his voice, was rather proud of the fact. He then went on to complain about muggers. This was when Harry spoke up for the first time (until now, he had just nodded or shaken his head), as he knew about muggers and didn't like them either (although, admittedly, he had never met one). Malfoy Draco seemed to be rather satisfied with Harry's answer, nodding at him approvingly.

The blond boy's next statement, however, was met with a blank look and complete silence from Harry. What on earth were 'house elves'? And why would they buy the boy's school stuff?

Encouraged by their similar opinions about muggers, Harry asked the other boy about these house elves things.

"You don't know?" the blond sneered.

Harry shook his head.

"They're servants. They clean and cook and do the laundry and keep the garden and the manor tidy, and you can even send them buying the boring stuff like quills and parchment. You just have to tell them what you want them to do and they have to obey."

During his speech, Malfoy's eyes had narrowed. "Who's your family, by the way?" he asked in a low voice.

"The Dursleys..." Harry replied distractedly. The boy's description of house elves sounded awfully familiar.

Just then, the woman who had taken Harry's measurements gave him a pat on the shoulder indicating that she was finished and that he could join the giant, who was waiting outside the shop with two large ice creams.

#

Later, when he and the giant sat in the dingy pub they had come through on their way to the alley earlier, eating a meal richer than anything Harry had ever gotten before, he finally dared to ask the man whether magic was real.

"'as doub't me, eh? 'new it!" the giant chuckled.

Harry flushed.

This time, Harry listened attentively while the giant explained about magic and wizards, about Hogwarts and what he would learn there, about headmaster Dumbledore and his own position as the grounds-keeper (it was then that Harry caught the name of the giant, Rubeus Hagrid) and finally about his parents having been magical, too.

Harry objected that his parents couldn't have been magical, but when he told Hagrid about his parents having died in a car crash, the man exploded. Once he had calmed down again, Harry learnt about an evil wizard and his parents being murdered by him while he, Harry, apparently had survived.

This time, Harry didn't decline the opportunity to ask questions.

Hagrid looked slightly sick when Harry told him about Malfoy Draco's remark about muggers and how Harry had agreed with the blond. Apparently, he had misunderstood Malfoy and he hadn't talked about muggers but about non-freakish people.

After a few more questions, Harry was able to translate a few more phrases the blond had used and that had left him puzzled, such as 'Slytherin' and 'Quidditch' – which, in turn, explained magical children's obsession with brooms.

Upon Harry's enquiry whether he had at least got the term 'house elves' right (he wanted to make sure not to have misunderstood something else Malfoy had said, apart from the muggle-muggers), Hagrid mumbled something about Malfoys apparently not being completely stupid, which Harry took as an affirmation that the blond's explanation about these creatures had been correct, even though he wondered why the giant had used the plural when talking about the blond.

Hagrid then took great pains to made sure that Harry understood that house elves weren't slaves but belonged to the family and that any respectable wizard would treat them with kindness.

It was already dark when Harry arrived back at Privet Drive.

After Hagrid had answered all of his questions as well as he could, Harry had squirmed and asked whether it might be possible to go back to the book store. He was rather embarrassed that he hadn't listened properly the first time Hagrid had told him everything and that now the giant had to put up with him for even longer. However, Hagrid didn't seem to be bothered at all at having to go to Flourish&Blotts for a second time.

The Dursley's couldn't have been home for long when Harry returned, as their luggage was still in the hallway and Aunt Petunia seemed to have only just started cooking something for her son – who was sitting at the table, chewing his way through mountains of cake and ice-cream.

"You!" his Aunt snapped, "take the luggage upstairs and unpack! Then you can start doing the dishes – Dudley hasn't eaten a proper meal in ages, my poor dear, he needs plenty of food now and I'm not sure whether I have enough pots."

Harry had hoped that perhaps his relatives would be a bit friendlier now that he was a wizard, that they might not set him quite as many chores as they had before. However, during the next few days it became blatantly obvious that the opposite was true.

Each day, Harry had to get up at seven o'clock and, after a meagre breakfast, Aunt Petunia would present him with a list of the day's chores. As August continued, the tasks became more and more ridiculous and it was quite clear that the only purpose of things like mowing the lawn every second day or cleaning out the attic two times each week was to keep Harry busy.

At first, Harry had refused to do what had to be thrice as many chores as he normally did during the holidays. He quickly learnt, though, that the only option to avoid having go to bed without supper (and to get breakfast the next day) was to do every single task his Aunt had set.

Dudley, adamant about exacting revenge on his cousin for making him miss 'The Great Humberto', sabotaged Harry's work whenever he could and pushed Harry down the freshly cleaned (and therefore wet and slippery) stairs on more than one occasion. The resulting bumps and bruises made it difficult for Harry to move and his Aunt started to complain about his laziness.

Harry didn't think that getting a real bedroom had been worth the price he had to pay for it. He was constantly tired (though this might also have something to do with him reading his new books for several hours each night) and his hands were sore and inflamed from all the cleansing agents.

If the giant had been right and he was a wizard, why didn't he just stop his relatives from making his life miserable and turned them into toads?

When September 1st dawned, Harry wasn't sure whether to feel relieved that today he would escape from Privet Drive or not. Who knew whether life at Hogwarts would be any better for someone like him?

A few days ago, Harry had finally read the one book he had been dreading to open, as he had been sure that this book would confirm what, deep down, he had known all along, even though he had tried not to think about it. The book was about magical creatures, or, more precisely, about house elves.

Once Harry had started reading the book, he couldn't stop. It was as if someone had learnt everything about his, Harry's, life and put it down into writing. The chores, the cupboard, the fact that he was so much smaller than all the other boys, the cast off clothing (though at least he did have real clothes, which was more than most house elves seemed to own), the fact that he was bound to the Dursleys and couldn't leave the family, the punishments... Harry was stunned that someone could know so much about his life without having ever met him.

The only thing that he didn't understand was the issue with the clothes. According to the author of the book, the only way to sack a house elf was to give him real clothes. Now, it wasn't as if Aunt Petunia had ever bought clothes for Harry, but Dudley's old garments certainly had been given to him. And still they hadn't presented him with an opportunity to leave his relatives – though Harry had no idea how this was supposed to work for any house elf at all. Perhaps it had to be wizard-clothes?

The fear of being sacked most house elves seemed to have Harry could understand perfectly, though. He didn't love the Dursley's, no, certainly not, but to be completely on his own? Where should he go, what should he eat, how should he survive? Surely some chores and a few slaps now and then weren't as bad as being homeless and completely alone, were they?

It had been long after midnight when Harry had finally put the book away, careful not to make any noise that might alert his Aunt or Uncle.

So Hagrid had make a mistake, just as Harry had suspected. However, he hadn't been completely wrong either. The wizarding world did exists, wizards and witches existed – only that Harry wasn't one of them. Still, going to Hogwarts would provide him with the opportunity to get to know other house elves – the book had said that Hogwarts had the largest number of house elves in Britain! It couldn't hurt to see how other house elves lived and worked, could it? Perhaps Harry could learn a few tricks from them that would enable him to be hired by a different, nicer family? Or things that would allow him to fulfil the Dursley's fondest wish – not to have to see him any more? And if he didn't like it at Hogwarts, he would just return to Privet Drive.

Next Chapter: Hogwarts Express and meeting a few well-known people