Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

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January 11th

'Miss Bushy Head mustn't get away with this.' A very disgruntled house elf thought sneaking into the Gryffindor common room late at night. 'No she mustn't not. To unwillingly free a houseelf! The nerve of Miss Bushy Head.'

The elf walked confidently into the room, no longer afraid of hidden freedom traps (a.k.a. knitted goods, compliments of Miss Bushy Head.)

Yes, she would pay, but not in her own blood. Her blood, or more correctly that bushy head of hers, seemed to be a prized possession of the inhabitants of the castle.

"Miss Granger, that head of yours must be worth a million galleons!" One teacher had exclaimed after Miss Bushy Head gave an obviously very correct answer. That stupid head was safe, but Mr. I Want Bushy Head was not so safe.

What did they call that one? Weasle? Maybe. Whatever they called that one, his head was not as safe as Miss Bushy Head's head.

The elf smirked as she snapped her fingers and disappeared from the room with a quiet pop.

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She appeared the same instant in the boys dormitories. As she approached the first bed, she heard the boy moan. Since all boys sound the same, she assumed this was Mr. I Want Bushy Head.

Using her special elven magic, she threw open the curtains and with a small crack, the boy's eyes were open, but they no longer saw.

'Shit.' The elf thought. 'That no is Mr. I Want Bushy Head. Well, at least it's the other friend of Bushy Head. Mr. Pothead I think they call him.'

Deciding to be more cautious, she open the next curtains by hand, but the poor boy happened to be a light sleeper, and he awoke. He met a similar end as Mr. Pothead.

'This one should be him.' Thought the elf, hoping she wasn't wrong again. Luckily, she wasn't. In the bed, sleeping soundly and snoring lightly, was Mr. I Want Bushy Head.

No sooner had the elf seen the flaming red hair, then its owner stopped snoring.

Forever.

(He also stopped breathing for just as long.)

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This chapter started from a really good idea, but ended up kinda sucking. At least I was able to write after mustang'smistress was pounding on my foot at Coffee House saying "You'll never write again!"

IMPORTANT NOTE!

I plan to continue this story for as long as I can, but as some people can see, it's becoming longer and longer in between chapters. I welcome any ideas, the more developed the better.

If you send an idea, make it as detailed as possible. Seriously, if you even want to write, like, a whole chapter, feel free. I have 365 days to fill, so just e-mail me (click the e-mail link in my profile) any chapters you might happen to have written.