Chapter One
Author's Note: I don't own anything or anyone that you recognise except for Dillon; all belongs to J. K. Rowling.
This is a story that I decided a few minutes ago I would like to write. This chapter is mine but being the nice person I am I want to share this writing with my sister, who will do the next chapter. I really hope you enjoy this and please do no hesitate to review. Apologies for any unexceptable grammar- I will edit at the end of the month. Enjoy! :)
Life was not fair. He did not want to be a house-elf. He knew he didn't belong among his kind. Ever since he hatched everyone knew that he wasn't quite what a house-elf should be. Good thing too; He never followed instructions where he could help it; in fact, he went so far as to do the complete opposite. It was a mystery to many. The medi-wizards examined him; his brain was the same as any other elves'. His mother's master tried to enforce her will upon him; he simply sat down and glared as she beat him with her cane. As he grew up he realised that although he didn't strictly have to follow any rules, he couldn't quite manage to escape doing some tasks. Unlike the other elves in the estate, he occupied his mind with ideas of avenging himself. Eventually he was deemed unworthy of serving any wizarding family and was left in the gutter of a muggle street in his dirty pillow case. That was where Albus Dumbledore found him, gave him some food and took him in to work in the Hogwarts kitchens. That was when he really began to detest wizards.
He jumped in fright as another stack of dirty dishes were unceremoniously dumped in the sink in front of him, causing the bubbles to float high into the air. Winky, a disgraced house-elf also taking refuge in Hogwarts, had obviously been drinking again. She hiccoughed slightly as she wheeled around, either searching for another pile of dishes stacked precariously or a table to hide under. He had originally admired the female for managing to escape her natural servitude. How she did it was still unclear; the rumours that flew around her new position could not entirely be trusted when coming from the mouths of some gossipy old elves. If he knew he certainly would've tried her method. Unfortunately she lost all credibility in his large green eyes when he realised that her drinking problem stemmed from the shame of not being a good elf. Even that highly spirited Dobby agreed with him that she should be happy. Their agreement, however, ended there in which Dobby thoroughly enjoyed the company of the brats he willingly and freely served. Dumbledore wasn't foolish enough to give him a discarded sock in a book or any other piece of clothing either.
He remembered the first time he had attempted to free himself of all humans. It was during the year that Hogwarts most recently hosted the Triwizard Tournament. Everyone was too busy cooking triple the necessary amount and washing an overload of dirty robes and sheets. Even Dumbledore himself seemed too focused on the Potter boy to keep as close an eye on his actions as usual. His plan was simple: he would uncharacteristically volunteer to clean the Gryffindor common room as he had heard no other house-elf would touch the place. There he would snatch up some of the knitted woollen hats that the mud- uh- girl (he couldn't help slipping up on his words sometimes; he didn't like the fact that wizards made outcasts of people among their own kind like his did, but he certainly couldn't help mocking all of the brats) had made in the hopes of freeing his fellow staff members. Unfortunately, this brilliantly cunning plan didn't work for two reasons. The first was that every time he did try to take an item of clothing, Dobby would beat him to it. He was the only other house-elf to volunteer and now had a number of woollen items coating his scrawny body. Every time he saw the elf with a new pom-pom added to his collection he would whine in rage. He had a feeling that perhaps Dobby was doing it on purpose on behalf of Dumbledore, who may indeed have become suspicious at his sudden friendliness. The second reason he wasn't as successful as he would've hoped was that he knew where the items were. Due to ancient magic in his blood, normal elf or not, he was bound to wait until he was offered one of the items by Dumbledore or equivalent authority figure. Since the girl just left them on the table, he could not 'accidently' pick it up and be freed. This made him even more infuriated and determined to leave.
Pretending to scrub the golden goblet he was holding, he allowed himself a small smile. At least this next plan would work better; Dumbledore had now left Hogwarts. Although he did not like that Umbridge woman one bit, she was too caught up in her own power trip to realise what a "filthy animal" was busy doing. His plan was to unfold tonight, and boy was it a good one. He just hoped all the other house-elves would fall asleep before twelve so that he could begin the preparation.