FINDING HOME

Chapter 4. Shedding Skin

This was a very good day for Spotty. In the morning he managed to drink his milk without any interruptions. There was that damned Siamese cat that every day tried to steal his milk. And it often succeeded since it was the Master's cat, and Spotty could not hurt it or chase it away. Thus his morning normally began with a hide-and-seek game with him attempting to find a corner where the infernal animal would not discover him and his precious milk.

As every house elf, Spotty had only one type of food he could accept. For some it was eggs, bread, porridge… It took Spotty four days of starvation to find out what his was. Sometimes Spotty thought that it would be better to feed on bread. At least the cat would not be interested in stealing his breakfast. As it was, he often ended hungry and covered in scratches. Elves, both forest and house ones, could take meals only at dawn, so bereft milk meant hunger for the rest of the day.

This time the cat was obviously distracted and he drank the whole bowl. And it was only the beginning of a good day. Spotty did a lot of things today. He found a silver spoon that evidently was lost by the Masters several years ago, removed an ugly inch-wide brown spot from a dark blue tapestry (in the Master's bedroom, no less!), and now moved on to polishing the grand staircase. The last task was especially hard because nobody was supposed to see him.

One of the main requirements for a house elf's work was to remain unseen while performing the task. Being noticed by any human or even worse – by the Master himself – while an elf's presence was not asked for meant a disgrace. It was much easier to work at night since the risk of being caught sight of lessened significantly, but Spotty needed sunlight for this work. Only natural light would allow him to estimate glitter of bronze banisters.

He was on the seventh stair when he heard the call. As all house elves, Spotty always heard his Master's call, even if it was whispered.

Sliding through the walls Spotty appeared in his Master's cabinet within seconds. He was already shaking with anxiety. What if the Master was displeased and would send Spotty away? This was the main fear of every house elf – to become homeless.

Spotty looked around nervously. The Master was not alone, the Young Master was here too. Maybe he was angry with Spotty?

"Sir, you calling Spotty?" – he squeaked.

He knew that his question was incorrect but human words eluded him since… since when? Spotty could not say "when". His life began when the Master discovered him. Topsy said once that a house elf's life started when he got a master and it was normal to have vague memories about his past. Spotty was not sure about this. His memories were not vague, there were none. He remembered a flash, screaming, heat, running and... that was all. No matter how hard he tried, his memory remained empty.

Both Masters were watching him curiously, as if there was something strange about him.

The Young One finally said: "Father, are you going to interrogate him?"

The Master shook his head. "I scanned his memory a long time ago. It is no use. He does not know a thing."

Then he raised his wand and beckoned for Spotty to approach him. Spotty complied.

"Close your eyes, elf."

Spotty obeyed and immediately felt that something was pressed to his forehead, perhaps the wand that Master held in his hand. The Master began to say some strange words that Spotty did not know. At the same time they sounded strangely familiar… as if he knew this language once.

Suddenly pain pierced through his entire body. It felt as if all his muscles cramped at once, even his throat constricted not allowing him to cry out. It went on for a minute or two, and then everything turned black.

A loud exclamation was the first thing he heard.

"Merlin, this is Potter! Father, look, it's Potter!"

"Yes, Draco, thank you very much for this astute observation. I would never guess without your help."

"Potter was our house elf! I can't believe it…"

"Instead of standing here and gawking, better bring him clothes. He cannot walk around in these rags."

"You are not going to change him back?"

"Draco…"

"What? What did I say? I just thought it could be fun now that we know who he is."

"Draco…"

"Alright, alright, I'll go and find him some clothes. But I still don't understand why we should miss such a wonderful opportunity."

"Draco, NOW! And when I say "clothes", I don't mean a tablecloth. I mean decent clothes from your wardrobe. You have five minutes before I go and choose them myself."

Hastily retreating footsteps.

A/N: I am probably asking too much, but it would be nice to know if someone reads it. Even if you think it sucks, I would appreciate it if you shared your opinion, so that I could stop wasting time on this story and erase it. So please review.