AN: Something I actually wrote about a year ago; it was going to be a collaboration of sorts with my friends, but we got a bit too busy... So I thought I'd post it anyway :P
Disclaimer: Res ipsa loquitur. Lorum ipsum.
While Harry, Hermione and Ron hunted for horcruxes, and while the Wizarding world overcame Lord Voldemort and some of their own prejudices, it seemed as though the Wizarding world simply couldn't contain anything else. Surely it would burst if it had to hold more. And yet, something else was happening.
Just outside a small sea town called Tinworth, in Cornwall, a group of intrepid muggles who had been exposed a few times too many to Confundus charms managed to stumble through the wards that kept Shell Cottage private. Perhaps they had ancient magic blood pulsing through their veins that allowed them to slip through the wards, or perhaps it was simply chance with a healthy helping of Lady Luck. With their metal detector whining along the beach, they were unaware that they had crossed the border between their ordinary muggle world and the next.
They shuffled through the sandy dunes, spread like so many ants traversing the surface of a giant bench, while a lone bird soared above, watching mildly as one of the muggles pointed, and shouted, and called the others over. One by one they each noticed the strange sight: a grave out here?
What was more astonishing, the grave's epitaph declared that the person who lay beneath was Dobby. 'A free elf'. Surely this was just a practical joke, or maybe the person buried bellow was merely uncommonly pretty? Either way, it was an uncommon grave, and therefore Quite Interesting. A few of the muggles deigned to snapchat the find.
Despite initial hesitance over committing a grievous sin, the muggles were overcome with curiosity, and so, with the morbid not-quite-believing fascination that young students apply to the theories of quantum physics, they poked the grave with a stick, and leapt back, expectant.
Nothing happened.
But the sand collapsed a little, as though whatever was underneath had decayed just a bit. Perhaps they had caused a cave-in for the unfortunate crabs and mussels under the sand. The grave looked too small for a human, muttered one. Maybe 'elf' was the nickname for a strange pet?
They had already started; they might as well finish. And so, abandoning the twig, they dug at the grave with their hands, until, finally, the whole corpse was uncovered. No crabs nor mussels.
The muggles stood stupefied at their discovery.
This…. was not a pet. Nor a human. It was a real-life, honest-to-goodness, elf. The stench was more than enough to prove its authenticity, even without the skin-covered-flesh, so well put-together with no sign of stitching, or glue. Granted, it was quite small and quite ugly, but the pointed ears couldn't have belonged to anything else of which they could think.
They had to show everyone, just to prove it. Maybe they'd end up on TV, famous. Perhaps even Hollywood would want them! – although, Hollywood was not the sort to want elves this ugly. Goblins, maybe – and who was to say this was an elf and not a goblin? They weren't telling anyone about the grave.
Corpse or no, the elf was moved unceremoniously into their loot bag, and the grave covered over once more. Well, they didn't want the original gravediggers to know anything had happened.
At any other time, Bill and Fleur might have noticed the non-magical intruders slipping through their wards. At any other time, the magicals in Tinworth would have noticed the slight magical residue emanating from the muggles' potato sack, or at least the smell. At any other time, once the muggles took Dobby to the media and then to the scientific community, the magical ministry would begin its standard damage control à la muggles.
Alas, Bill and Fleur were away, fighting. The other magicals were used to magic emanating from everywhere, as the Death Eaters flew around, causing terror. The Ministry of Magic had collapsed, and was in the depths of repairing itself, and didn't have time for muggle inconveniences.
And so, when Dobby was brought forth, only the muggles noticed.
AN: Someday this may or may not be complete. That day is not today. Sorry.