On October 31st, 1980, Harry Potter's parents were murdered and his whole nursery blown up around him as the killing curse backfired on its caster, ripping his soul from his body. He was left, all alone, in the blown-out room, crying hysterically.
"M-m-mummy! Da-ddy!" he screamed, crying himself hoarse.
His emerald green eyes were red and puffy from crying and his face was streaked red with tears. Blood dribbled down his nose and over his lips from the cut on his forehead.
"Mummy 'pisky. Pisky, mummy!"
Nothing. Not the sound of running feet or a yell from downstairs. Just deafening silence.
"Si-rus! Re-mus! Peter!" he called.
Still nothing.
Then, he heard tiny feet walking upstairs. He stopped crying at once.
"Coo-shayks?" he asked, asking for their pet cat, Crookshanks.
His face lit up when he saw the house elf that walked in instead.
"Howwy!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up as she hurried over to him. "Howwy, 'pisky?"
"Young master Harry, you're alive!" Holly exclaimed, waving her hand and healing the cut on his forehead as best she could as well as cleaning all the dust, rubble, and insulation off of him.
The lightning bolt scar that remained was surprising and highly unusual, because the bond on her magic usually enabled her to do whatever was asked.
But that hardly mattered in the face of the crying toddler in front of her.
"Harry is safe." She said, holding out her arms and hugging him close to her. He sighed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around her neck and cuddled close to the simple white uniform dress she wore.
Holly saw a rat scurry into the room and over to the body of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
"Peter" they both cried. Harry was excited to see his friend, but Holly knew better.
Peter grabbed for the yew wand laying beside his fallen master, gripping it in his rat teeth, and Holly immediately pushed Harry behind her.
"Harry!"
Afraid that he would kill Harry, Holly made the impulsive decision to take him away.
Magical folk called Holly's kind house elves, but they were actually called brownies and were distantly related to goblins. Goblins had used their amazing smithing skills to make superior weapons and armor and pushed them into human territory. Many thousands of years later, their kind lived in a rather symbiotic relationship with magical folk. They inhabited abandoned properties and were willing to clean and cook for a day or a night in exchange for food as payment. Sometimes house elves like Holly became attached to a particular person and swore on their magic to serve them and their descendants for the rest of their lives, thus providing a home for their own spouse and children as well until the children grew up.
Holly thought she had lost everything she had worked for for the past three and a half centuries when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named walked through the old wooden gate, down the stone path, and unlocked the bright blue front door. She thought that she would be left homeless and jobless, with her husband having passed away twenty years ago and her children off working for other families, her magic gone.
Holly had apparated to the door to greet their guest, expecting to see Sirius or Remus or Peter, and was blasted aside with a bombarda.
When she regained consciousness, Mr. and Mrs. Potter were both dead. She assumed Harry was dead, too, until she heard him crying.
So, she took Harry to the only safe place she could think of – Charlus and Dorea Potter's old house. It was still in the family and safely warded, but it had sat and fallen into disrepair in the two years since they had passed away. It was a two-and-a-half story, 2000-square foot craftsman home built in the 1920's with a basement that sat on a half-acre lot. Once beautiful and well-kept, the grass and hedges and trees were wildly overgrown now.
A snap of the fingers opened the gate and she walked on through, holding Harry by the hand and leading him gently up the path, up the stairs, and through the front door.
"Mummy daddy home?" he asked.
"N-no, Harry…Mummy and daddy went bye-bye." She replied, speaking to him in the simple manner in which Lily had spoken to him.
Tears filled her eyes and threatened to fall, thinking about how she was supposed to help a toddler understand that their parents were never coming home. She had helped raise many Potter children over the years, but never before had she raised an orphan all by herself.
But who else would do it? Harry had to be kept safe.
"Kay." Harry replied, yawning.
She put up all the safety wards she knew and checked Harry over with a diagnostic spell. He was completely fine, so she cleaned off the two couches and transfigured them both into beds. One for Harry and one for her. She and Harry would get some sleep and clean the place up tomorrow. She summoned one of the toddler sleep potions Lily had back at the cottage in Godric's Hollow and gave it to Harry so he would fall asleep and only once he had fallen into a deep sleep did she dare to sleep herself.
Author's Note: This idea came to me at random while I was playing Kirby and the Forgotten Land. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! I have absolutely no planning done for this so idk where its gonna go. Trying to do world building as I go.
