For disclaimer and author notes please see chapter 1.
1986-01-02 09:30 UTC, Malfoy Manor
Having completed the morning chores, including breakfast for the young master, Hobby and Nolly were somewhat free. Hobby was surprised at first, since his impression was that elves in death-eater families were worked to the bone. But thinking deeper, he remembered that Dobby had had plenty of time to - literally - stalk him, Harry, both at Privet Drive and at Hogwarts.
But come to think about it, Malfoy had not been particularly nasty yet, though it was still early days and one should not extrapolate from just one day of experience.
As he was mulling over this question, Hobby started thinking about all the dangers that Harry would face if he were stopped from his mission somehow. He thought it may be a good idea to write things down so that Harry would be somewhat forewarned, though how he would get the message to him, and how he would convince him, when Harry was not even six, was, as yet, an unsolved problem.
He conjured some parchment and started composing the narrative for the first two years in his mind- and stopped dead. He knew whom to contact, and what to take! But, sadly, not how to contact them. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as the idiom says.
So Hobby pulled the parchment he had just conjured, originally intended for Harry, and started writing. As he wrote, he tried to recall if Dobby had ever written anything, but there was nothing in Dobby's memory. He hoped this is how house-elves wrote; in fact he hoped house-elves wrote at all, otherwise this might not work!
To: The Great Mr Nicholas Flamel Sir, And His Great Mrs Perenelle Flamel Ma'am
From: Dobby the house elf
Dear Great Mr Nicholas Flamel Sir, And His Great Mrs Perenelle Flamel Ma'am,
I's being Dobby the house-elf. I's being the need to tells you somethings very very importants.
I's be begging you Great Mr Nicholas Flamel Sir and His Great Mrs Perenelle Flamel Ma'am please be calling me as soon as you's be getting this so I can pop to you's location.
I's be swearing on my elf magic I's be not harming you or wanting to harms you.
Yours respectfully
Dobby the house elf
Having written this, and hoping that he had not overdone the bad English, he went up to the owlery, grabbed an owl, tied the letter to its leg and told it to deliver it to Nicholas Flamel.
Having done that, he then waited for Malfoy to leave the house on some business or other, then quietly snuck into the secret room where Malfoy kept all the dark artifacts, grabbed the diary, and went back to his "room" to await a wizard's call.
About twenty minutes later he "felt" someone call him (they must not have been very far), so he grabbed the diary and popped to where he was called.
1986-01-02 09:55 UTC, location unknown
Big mistake! As soon as he landed, he was petrified and held up at a height of about six feet, by some magical grip on his throat.
"So, this is what you mean by not intending to harm us, bringing such a hideously dark object into our home? Tell me why I should not kill you right now", thundered a wizard who could only be Nicholas Flamel.
In the few seconds that it took for these words to come out, Hobby observed the man. He looked to be about sixty, with dark hair, blue eyes, and a slim, almost thin, physique. And he was angry, really angry, so Hobby decided to suspend his examination of the man and try to respond.
Finding himself capable of speaking, Hobby replied in a carefully modulated, adult wizard voice, using a distinctly upper crust, House of Lords accent (as near as he could fake it anyway!), "Because, Mr Flamel, there are 6 more like that, and destroying them is the only way to prevent the self-styled Lord Voldemort from making a come back in-", here he paused for dramatic effect, pretending to count in his head, "-approximately 9 years and 5 months. Meanwhile, might I re-affirm my house-elf oath to not harm you, and also give you a wizards oath to the same effect?"
A person who has lived more than six hundred years would, normally, be considered pretty much immune to the emotion of "surprise"; he would have seen it all, and not just once but a dozen times over.
Instead, Nicholas Flamel... just fell over. Well, figuratively speaking, anyway. What he actually did was fall backward on his arse, although a nearby chair did rush in to place itself under him just in time. Whether Perenelle Flamel was nearby and did that, or Nicholas Flamel was still - at his age - having episodes of accidental magic, Hobby never did find out. There's a third alternative - the house and its contents could be sentient! Better be extra careful and cut the sass, Hobby me boy!, thought Hobby to himself.
Anyway, after a few seconds, Nicholas Flamel stood up, then waved his right hand at Hobby in a scanning motion. Clearly, he did not like what he found, so he made an annoyed grunt and tried again, getting, naturally, the same results again.
"You have both wizard magic and house elf magic. Explain!", he ordered as he, not too gently, let Hobby down.
"Well, sir-"
"Wait, let me get Penny here too", said Nicholas. Hobby could not see what precisely he did, or how he sent the message, but in a minute or so, a motherly type woman came bustling in. "OK, start", said Nicholas.
"Well, sir, and ma'am, my name is - or actually was - Harry Potter. At present I go by 'Hobby', which is a portmanteau of 'Harry' and 'Dobby', the latter being the house-elf name my 'owners' know me by".
"You're the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"In my timeline, I was, but not in this timeline. I am not Harry Potter except in my own head; this timeline has its own Boy-Who-Lived, and I intend to make sure he has a better life than I ever had."
He paused to take a breath, and said "Might I have a glass of water before I continue, because mine is a long and sad tale".
Nicholas conjured a glass of water for him, allowed him to sit down, and they listened to the tale Hobby told them, in full detail. He included all seven years of his Hogwarts life, and Penny was visibly angry (at Nicholas, to Hobby's shock) when the stone episode was being narrated. (Hmm; I wonder what that was about, he thought).
Having completed his tale, Hobby asked the couple, "I hope you do not think I am intentionally meddling with time. As I said, I was pretty much ordered to do this, though the exact mode of fulfilling the order was mine to choose".
"Meddling with time? God no, and besides, what's a decade or so of time-turmoil for someone like us? No that's not an issue!"
Hobby was relieved; this was a potential sticking point in getting help. He would have hated it if they had turned out like Dumbledore, who he was sure would have picked his brain of all useful information, then obliviated him saying it was dangerous to meddle with time or some such rot, before calling Malfoy in and handing Hobby back to him!
"Sir, ma'am, I have lots and lots of work to do to fix all this, and I am determined to do it. I have the combined magic of an adult Harry and a powerful Dobby, but I still lack many skills which my friend Hermione always took care of. I do not know why, in my previous life, you chose to not do anything about Voldemort, but I respect your decision, and I am not asking you to be directly involved. All I ask is that you teach me some of the skills I need."
"We're not promising anything, but what do you need?"
"For now, I need to learn how to set wards and monitoring charms, and create portkeys. After I collect some of the other horcruxes, I need to learn to control fiendfyre. Or I can bring them all to you and you can destroy them yourself; that would go a long way, I am sure, to convincing you of my intentions, if you still needed convincing".
Then he took a deep breath, and he became visibly sad. "But first, I need you to heal someone. The muggle woman I told you about; she has no memory of even having a daughter, and Emily, the poor child, is not getting a chance to heal from her 8-month-long kidnapping and torture. Her father will try his best, I am sure, but she really needs both parents". By now Hobby was crying shamelessly. "I... I will be doing a lot of nasty things to a lot of nasty people, but I had promised myself that no innocent would suffer if I could help it.
It will take time for me to learn mind-healing, but this needs to be done today. Right now, if you're OK with it. In return, I'll do pretty much anything you wish me to do that does not jeopardise my overall mission and the reason this 'Father' person sent me back.
I do not know what the future holds for me, a weird mix of wizard and house-elf, but that was my choice. Foolish or wise I do not know, but I made that choice because I wanted the maximum advantage for myself in this highly uneven battle. All I know is that I am determined to see Harry happy, and married to Hermione, Hogwarts not succumb to the darkness, at least not in my lifetime, and innocents not suffer. Help me, Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, you're my only hope!"
That was probably the longest speech Hobby had made so far. Actually, considering he had barely met or spoken to anyone, it was almost the only one.
There was a long pause, while Nicholas and Perenelle looked at each other. They seemed to be communicating without speaking, and suddenly, Hobby had an epiphany. Harry and Hermione used to communicate like this, or at least almost like this. What a blind buffoon he had been not to have realised that during his lifetime! Now he'd have to make sure Harry realised it and acted on it. Assuming that the change in timeline did not prevent them from being as close as they were in his past.
"First, call me Nick, and my wife is Penny. Next, when was the last time you ate?"
Harry sighed with immense relief; all of a sudden he felt his burden lighten tremendously. Now he knew he could do this. With these two behind him, he would definitely succeed.
"Thank you Nick, Penny. And I had breakfast this morning; it turns out I have more than even a normal wizard's appetite".
"Yes; I would have suspected that to be the case. Your magic needs that to sustain, plus now your house-elf magic is drawing on that. You asked to be a free elf, did you? Well, there is no such thing as a truly free elf. What most people don't know, or have forgotten, is that while a bond is needed for the elf to live, it does not have to be a master-slave bond. I am pretty sure, from the incidents you narrated, that your Dobby bonded with you as a friend, otherwise he would not have had the magic to live more than a few months. A year or two, in a magical castle, but not much more than that."
"As for you", Penny continued, "you are your own bonded elf by dint of assimilating a wizard core within the elf body. That's the closest to being 'free' that is possible for an elf, but it is truly unheard of. As such, you will be able to get away with a lot of things that no wizard will even dream of ascribing to you. This is a fantastic alibi - accusing you of doing something that the Malfoys don't want you to do would be inconceivable, and yet you can do them!"
Nick summed up, "you wondered if it was foolish or wise, and I won't say which it is, but it is certainly lucky that you made that choice!"
"Now, hand me that diary, and I'll put it away for when we get one or two more and we'll do them together", saying which, he took the diary from Hobby and put it away in a silk bag and put that in a nearby drawer.
Then he changed gears, "Now let's see about Emily's father. Unfortunately, neither Penny nor I are good at mind healing. Body healing we can do, mind healing actually needs low powered finesse, not high powered force. Look at it this way: you need a screwdriver, and we are hammers. That may be a bit overstated, but you get the idea, I'm sure".
Beckoning Hobby to follow him, he and Penny walked into the next room. Using the floo, he called "Healer Alice Ashwell, St. Mungo's".
After a few seconds another motherly woman, though a bit older looking than Penny, answered the floo. She and Nick spoke for some time, then Nick stepped back and the healer walked out of the floo.
"So, this is the young elf who wants to help heal a muggle? Very interesting, very interesting indeed!" She turned to Nick, "Mind-healing is easy. In return, I'd like to spend some time with this young elf and try and understand what drives him, what makes him tick".
"I am not Mr Flamel's elf, and I cannot reveal who my owner is. I am sorry, Healer Ashwell, but I am just an ordinary elf trying to help someone he came across accidentally".
"Curioser and curioser", said Alice Ashwell. "Even your language and diction are atypical for a house-elf!", said Alice Ashwell. (Hobby bit his tongue!) "Well, if you can't, then you can't. You do realise that I may be able to recognise the magical signature of the obliviation on the woman you will be taking me to?"
Hobby had not thought of that either. Damn this was hard; so many nuances to keep track of. He was quickly realising how much he had depended on Hermione, for she would have definitely known that going in, and would have made some provision against it, like a magical oath.
Still, he didn't really care if she knew it was Malfoy, since Malfoy was not his master. "Yes ma'am, I do. That does not bother my master, since it is not my master's magical signature you will find there. May I take you now?"
Alice Ashwell had a bemused expression on her face. Clearly, she wanted to spend a lot more time talking to this interesting creature. There was clearly far more here than met the eye, and she decided to make a long-term project out of figuring out this elf's secrets.
For now, however, she held out her arm for Hobby to take. Hobby turned to thank Nick and Penny, promised to come back later in the day (without mentioning why, since he could not reveal to the healer that he wanted lessons in warding and monitoring charms!), and popped away with the healer.
After the healer had fixed up Emily's mother and left for St Mungo's, Hobby popped back to Malfoy Manor.