Hello everyone.

So, I don't know where I'm going with this one, but it's one of several different stories that I've tried writing in the last few weeks. I figure it's better to post the chapter instead of just letting it gather dust in my computer's documents folder.

Let me know how you feel about it and where you think it should lead towards. I know it's rather short, but it's difficult to think beyond a basic story premise when life suddenly weighs down on you a lot more than you're used to feeling. Anyway, who knows, this might turn out to be something worthwhile. Or not. It's fine either way.

Also, I'd like to apologize for not updating "The New Buggy Pirates" and"In For A Penny, Out For A Pound" (as they are the stories I consider to be my active successes at the moment). I really would like to update, but every time I try to write up a new chapter my heart just won't get into it. And if my heart's not into it then how can I expect any quality writing to come out of my attempts.

Anyway, thank you for giving this a chance. See ya around.

You know, I never expected to get a second chance at life. Not after the average job I did with the first one; I figured living a relatively unremarkable life like mine barred me from such an experience. I mean, it wasn't as if I tried to not do anything beyond my known and immediate interests. I just never found the motivation to purposefully engage myself in new things.

I was perfectly content to just focus on school, work, and going home to entertain myself in the sanctity of my room. My love of manga, manhwas, webtoons, light novels, (decent) anime, video games, writing and reading fanfiction, writing and reading regular fiction, and the occasional YouTube video kept me content to live as I had been for majority of my life.

But…all good things come to an end, I suppose. Though, I never expected the ending of one moderately satisfying life would lead to the beginning of another, albeit extraordinary, much more dangerous one.

Still, I wouldn't trade away my second chance for anything.

I'm having far too much fun!

I sat in the castle's kitchens, eating my breakfast, and watching the house elves work at keeping the numerous platters in the Great Hall from emptying. It was interesting to see them all work so efficiently, expertly maneuvering their way around each other despite there being over a hundred of them all working at once.

It made me wonder if new house elves found it difficult to acclimate. Would they need a period of adjustment so that they didn't ruin the established flow of things? Or would they just be able to do jump in and get to work?

House elves aren't humans, after all. Their ability to learn and cope with change, certain kinds of change more easily than others, might very well be much more accessible than anything most people can consciously tap into.

A light tug on the bottom of my robe breaks me away from my train of thought and I look under the table to find a smaller, and seemingly much younger, house elf than I'm used to seeing crouched down by my feet. Much to my amusement, I find her running her tiny hands against the hem of my robe with wide, mesmerized, eyes. It looked as though she liked the way Acromantula silk felt. Not that I could blame her, since I found myself absentmindedly doing the same exact thing more often than not.

Not wanting to scare her away, but desperately wishing to tease her a bit, I swallowed the remainder of my bacon and leaned down. I whispered to her gently. "Are you having fun?"

Like a deer in headlights, she froze in place and slowly turned her head upwards, her large and watery eyes eventually coming up high enough to stare directly at me in absolute horror. She must have been so caught up in how it looked, and felt such a strong sense of curiosity as to what it felt like, that she didn't stop to realize that there was a wizard still wearing it.

"T-Tippy is s-sorry, Miss! T-Tippy only meant to c-clean the floor, Miss. But Miss's robes felt…s-soft…and…" her words trailed off into a

"It's okay." I smile at her with all the gentleness I can, the 'aww' I feel in my chest getting forcibly shoved back into the gooey mess that was currently my heart.

The books and the movies, which wrongly led me to believe that all house elves would be ugly little things, taught me that they were very obedient creatures, to the point of self-punishment for failing to carry out an order. But seeing them in person made it so much more apparent how bad things were for them. So, I always made it a point to be the one person, assuming there wasn't one out there already, that treated them with every modicum of respect I could muster.

Glancing around the room in an exaggerated manner, I spoke conspiratorially. "I like the way it feels too. Like you could just sit there and rub and touch it all day long. Right?" Following that, I rubbed the back of my hand against my robe; I ignored the slight flinch the young elf seemed to have at my hand's sudden movement.

The abused and fearful mentality that older house elves seemed to have about possibly earning the wrath of a witch or wizard wasn't as deeply ingrained in the younger children, it seemed, since she looked at me and then at my hand and then back to me uncertainly for all of three seconds before breaking out into a gaping smile made of pure joy.

It took everything I had not scoop her up into a hug and squeal. After all, it wouldn't be a very manly thing to do; which sucked because when I was a woman back in my other life, I could do all the squealing and hugging I wanted to. And regardless of the fact that it would only be the house elves who saw, it'd still be a little embarrassing.

So, you know, it was a matter of personal pride and all that jazz…but I still really, really wanted to.

I chuckled as Tippy went back to playing with my robes, going so far as to rub it against the side of her face with a silly smile plastered that showed just how much she loved the way it felt.

Not many people who weren't the Headmaster came into the kitchens these days, even then he'd only come once every few months, according to the house elves. Which made it the perfect place for me to hide from all the annoyances that came in the form of the majority of the snot-nosed brats I go to school with.

So, when the portrait/kitchen entrance swung open, I knew it could only be the one other person who knew I'd be here instead of in the Great Hall with the rest of the Hufflepuffs. Under my breath I let out a slew of curses that could be summed up with "Oh, fuck."

"Ephraim! Where the hell are you, you lying bastard!?" A young girl of about fifteen stormed through the opening, her long, black hair bouncing slightly as she did. She looked heatedly around the room, her eyes passing over the terrified house elves before locking onto me. The furious, no, a better word for it would be ferocious. Yes, the ferocious glare she gave me told me all I needed to know about what fresh hell was coming my way.

But maybe it wouldn't be so bad once she hears the reason I wasn't around on her birthday. At the very least, Bellatrix didn't feel the need to yell out my full name. That would mean there was no hope whatsoever. So, the situation probably isn't nearly as bad as I think it is, right?

…right?

"Ephraim! Onan! Peverell!"

Yep…I'm dead.