A/N Chapter Three yeoh! We've got a lot of angst, a little bit of fluff then angst. We discover Remus Lupin six years after Halloween and understand why this story is called the Human House elf. Remember all authors love a review so drop your opinions, queries and concerns!

That great sea of disdain surrounding and nearly capsizing Elodie was very much evident in her first few weeks at Hogwarts. The House elves, whilst kind were run off their feet and anxious to keep to their strict instruction from Dumbledore to keep her out of sight. They fed her, ensured she occasionally frequented the bath but was mostly left to her own devices. She wasn't even really allowed in the kitchens as there was a danger of staff members coming across her. Instead, she spent many hours in either her room or in the elves' dormitory with the near decrepit old ones and younglings. They tried their best to engage her in their games or conversations but a ten-year-old, still stricken with grief and not entirely fluent in English, was not naturally the most engaged. She didn't see Dumbledore for nearly a month until the Easter Holidays came in mid March and one evening he came to see her.

Dumbledore gingerly entered into the vast kitchen and as always saw the great swathe of elves running frantically to clean and prepare for the next day's breakfast. Even the very youngest were being carefully supervised to dry the plates that were about the size of their heads. When he was fully inside the kitchen he closed and locked the door. With the slam of the great oak door concealed behind the painting the house elves immediately stopped and stood at attention. The man nodded at his army of elves and called for Mopsy.

"Yes, Mr Professor Dumbledore Sir!" The head elf genuflected in front of him.

"Bring me to the girl." As they were walking to the dormitory he curtly enquired of the brat's welfare.

"Oh Sir, she is not doing happy. We give her food she eat but she is sad. At night she call out for Mama. We try but…"

"That will be enough. Now leave us." With much bowing Mopsy departed and left the two humans together.

"Girl!" He commanded looking at the listless child in front of him. She looked clean but there were great dark circles and no hint of curiosity in her eyes.

"In six months time you will be going to France to attend Beauxbatons. In order that you may pass the tests and be off my hands, I have arranged a tutor. You will be meeting with him each morning. I cannot stress the importance of passing these tests enough as well as staying out of Hogwart's sight. I will be most displeased if you are seen. Furthermore, you will not tell this tutor anything about your mother or life. Your name will be Evangeline. Do you understand?" He lectured pacing in front of her.

"Oui" she whispered.

"Speak English you interminable brat." He barked. Honestly, any whiff of that disgusting language set his teeth on edge. How in Merlin would he manage the annual International Wizarding Conference in April?

With that he swept out leaving the child in his wake.

The next morning two people woke up with a little more swing in their step. Elodie had finally been given an interaction with the outside world as well as an end date to whatever her present situation was. She had snuck down to the kitchens that night and taken a look at the calendar. There were only a few months before she could leave. Whilst she had never been to France, Mama had told her stories of the beautiful snowy mountains and lush waves lapping at the beach. It was much better than the dark underbelly of the school even if she had to pretend her name was Evangeline as she wrinkled up her nose in disgust.

The other was a certain Remus Lupin. It was five years now since his world had exploded. He'd ran away to the continent for a while just to clear his head. However, he had spent the last year caring for his father in the Welsh valleys, but Tad was dead now these last six months. Remus had tried to get a job when he moved back to London craving the magical community but even three months of bottle washing at the other pub in Diagon Alley had ended. Too many absences was the official reason but he had seen the whispers from the bar staff. He had a miserable winter living on his father's meagre savings so the letter from Dumbledore was welcome.

He'd not been back to Hogwarts after a grief-stricken rant in early November which culminated in begging to no avail to even see little Harry. Remus had rather assumed he was persona non grata to the deceptively cold Headmaster so his offer of tutoring services was unexpected. He had tutored a few children to pass the Baccalauréat Junior which was the fiendishly difficult test for entry in Beauxbatons. The French school didn't merely require magical ability but a sense of logic and innate magical philosophy. It was orientated towards those children born into the French elite who were tutored for the test from the age of six. Indeed, it was only in the past twenty years muggleborn children in France were offered the opportunity to study for it. Those failing the test were offered a cursory magical education mostly to ensure they could control their magic and summon glasses when they took up their near inevitable positions as waiters and shop staff. There had been a massive scandal when a child educated at some backwater Parisian school had been offered an apprenticeship at l'Hôpital Magique in Lille after somehow self-studying for Healer exams. There was a reason why the French magical population had been depleted by moves to Britain, Canada and elsewhere. Dumbledore hadn't provided a reason why his pupil Evangeline was aiming for Beauxbatons, but he had placed a binding silence line in his contract and for the regular salary offered Remus would have tutored a Hippogriff in ballet.

Dumbledore stood waiting for his new appointee by Hogwarts gates beside the little French brat who had been dropped off by Mopsy. He hadn't wanted to spend more money than necessary on the parasite and all the tutors had seemed very expensive and haughty. Finally, he had remembered the werewolf who he had accepted into Hogwarts on some misguided charitable streak. Whilst he had been useful in the War, the whinging post-War had been simply dreary. However, Dumbledore was well aware of his current economic status and never underestimated a good silencing term in one's staff contract as well as the power of security to the dispossessed. A few owls had ensured the werewolf's silence and services.

After the inevitable greetings and apologies from the werewolf for his non-existent lateness Dumbledore led the tutor and tutee to the seventh floor. If the former Marauder and author of a certain map wondered why the route was so convoluted and dark he did not voice this. The headmaster turned to face the pair as he led the way into a room furnished with a table, desks and several bookshelves.

"Well, Mr Lupin, I trust you have all you need. Here is a portkey to take you back to the gates at 1pm." With that he left not wishing to waste another minute on this bore of an inconvenience.

Pupil and teacher stared at each other before Remus recovered himself and ushered his new pupil to the table. She looked nervous but was immaculately dressed in a dark blue frock and matching ribbons in her hair which Dotty had spent a good twenty minutes on that morning.

He smiled and ushered the little girl to the conveniently placed sofa. "So Evangeline, I thought we'd start off this session with a little chat. How are you?"

She stared at him blankly. Right this as going to be harder than expected he thought. Thankfully, he had a little French after a month or so in a Provence winery. Mam had also taught languages, though moving around to escape nosy neighbours had put paid to any stable job. It wasn't really something he emphasised due to the heavy handed anti-French sentiment still prevalent. Whilst Remus' terrible sunburn had put a figurative shade over his winery travails, the frequent jokes about the Welsh and their intense love of ovis aries (sheep shaggers) had calculated a strong dislike for those sorts of nationalist prejudice. The Wizarding world really didn't need racism as well as blood purist ideology to contaminate it even more.

Instead he attempted a casual "Ca va" and well he didn't think it was the atrocious French accent that made the girl burst into tears. After around ten minutes, a combination of French, English, Franglais and a furtive translation spell revealed a very scared little girl with limited English who whilst refused to say much had clearly undergone some sort of trauma. Remus decided there was not the time for logic and instead a game of magical Hungry Hippos managed to bring a little smile as well as his constant stash of Chocolate Frogs.

The months flew by, for both Remus and his tutee and they flourished under the stability and attention gratefully received by both who knew the feelings of it all being ripped from under one's feet. Remus had found his little pupil to have the grasp of logic required for a Beauxbaton girl and she had passed the tests. The only real issue was the names. His pupil still had difficulty responding to "Evangeline" and whilst her English had much improved and maybe acquired a slight Welsh ting "Remus" was mangled into "Raay- mousse". It was rather endearing really.

Now it was mid July and the unlikely couple were off to Diagon Alley. Whilst La Cour was still the traditional spot for Parisians, Diagon Alley had a designated day to meet the needs of the various Francophiles domiciled in England. Whilst no true French patriot would admit it, Ollivander had the edge over Bisset or Caron. Dumbledore had shown little interest in his ward and simply instructed a house elf to give Remus the relevant money for the trip.

He had intended to leave the wand till last but his pupil's entreaties of "baguette magique Raay-mousse" changed their approach. He later thanked the God whom he prayed to a lot more since Halloween 1981 they had not purchased the blue Beauxbatons robes before heading to Ollivanders.

It had all begun as eerily similar as Remus' own trip the summer of 1971. Ollivander had greeted him and recalled his own wand (10.25 inches, Cypress with unicorn hair). The girl had submitted to the wandmaker's cursory measurements before beginning the cautious swish of wands as so many before her. Indeed it was all going swimmingly until one more confident wave led to a small light shattering and Remus' cry of "Those Beauxbaton lot will have to be on their toes with you around." With that Ollivander turned around and repeated, "Beauxbaton?"

Remus missed the concern as he beamed with pride. "Yes, this little one got her exams and is off to France in September." With one swish Ollivander removed the customary debris resulting from a matching of wand and wizard and beckoned to Elodie grumbling under his breath.

She hesitated causing Ollivander's explosion. "For Merlin's sake boy why did you not tell me she was heading over the waters? Beauxbaton wand matching is much more intricate than the barbaric waving demanded by the bloody upstart in Scotland."

Remus looked confused and began to babble before Ollivander's curt gesture cut him off. He began to explain and lowered his tone after hid glimpse at the girl. "I'm sure you're aware people had varying degrees of magical power? The Benediek scale ranks everyone on the scale from 1-10. Muggles will be a 1. Normal is between 4-8. Hogwarts occasionally takes a 3.5 but Beauxbatons want at least a 5. You're probably a 7 with all that extra "fluff".

Remus glanced nervously at his pupil but she appeared to have lost or ignored the train of conversation. "So how do we test this?"

Ollivander brightened. "Well Salou recommends a mathematical approach and Olawu likes the potion. That ass Emslie does the genealogical route which is bloody ridiculous. However, I'm a Khalif man and prefer to go in through incision." At Remus' startled look he continued, "It's a little pin prick. Magic is carried by the blood. My God man, how do you think Muggleborns come to be? It's the Clarkesian theory of Squib hereditary syndrome. It's not blood purist nonsense it's theory! The Pinetian experiments clearly found blood purity had no correlation with magical ability. Emslie completely ignores this…"

Now Remus understood why wand making was such an obscure discipline due to the ever present threat of death by yawning. Eager to avoid another lecture on Emslie he interrupted. "So how do we do this pin prick?"

Ollivander scowled as his less than captivated audience and beckoned to Elodie. Explaining in French and translating to English he stated, "Right we pin prick and place in the Khalif formula and look for the colour change. A muggle will be red, changing to orange but we want a yellow or preferably green blue. If it's purple we've got the next Merlin."

The pin prick was duly administered and the party of three settled to watch. They saw red, turning to burnt orange, then distinctive tanned orange, finally settling on what can only be described as strawberry blonde. Remus willed the yellow streaks to go more visible but it was settled. "Well?" he demanded. "What are we looking at here?"

Ollivander raised an eyebrow and fetched his colour chart. "I'd say a positive 3.7 which'll get into Hogwarts but you'll be laughed out of Beauxbatons."

Remus withered. "Raay-mousse?" His charge whispered at him. He tried to smile and grabbed her hand. "Right darling, just time for an ice cream and we'll chat to Professor Dumbledore. Maybe he'll pull a few strings." The Welshman definitively ignored the scoff from the ancient wandmaker.

In the days after and certainly the years later Remus and Elodie often wondered what would have been the outcome if the couple had lingered over an ice cream or even fled. Yet hindsight is a true poison in these types of cases. Instead their hurried ice cream was barely eaten as Remus urged Elodie back to her quarters (unaware of the tiny corner in the kitchen) and he hurried off to break the news to the headmaster. Dumbledore immediately dismissed him and Remus never did say a goodbye to the brief light of his life. He spent the next five years floating between the underpaid gruelling jobs usually reserved to those drop outs and screw ups of both the magical and muggle world.

Ollivander's letters alongside polite measured replies of Beauxbaton only infuriated Dumbledore more as it became clear Elodie was staying in Hogwarts. Yet no Hogwarts letter came to the eleven year old in August of 1987. Instead the 5th August was spent the same as the past two weeks were for the young girl. Ignored, bored and confused. It was much the same as how the subsequent five birthdays would pass until a certain boy wizard entered his third year and a certain Welsh teacher re-entered the Scottish school.

During the summer of 1987 it was observed that Albus Dumbledore was more than a touch more irritable than his normal self. Whilst no one voiced it apart from the proprietors of Honeydukes wondering why their lemon sherbet order was near twice the usual amount it was clear the Headmaster wasn't in his right mind. No one ever dreamed it would be due to a little eleven year old girl staying in the kitchen of Hogwarts. Dumbledore was determined the brat couldn't attend Hogwarts and whilst he had taken children under her magical level they tended to be the offspring of high ranking Ministry officials. Much of the Fudge clan were admitted due to this discretion. Other children with less important parents did not receive their Hogwarts letter and so were assumed to be squibs and dispensed with according to their parents' tolerance.

However, it seemed his futile letters to Beauxbatons demanding Elodie's entrance had the unfortunate effect of putting the child on the French system according to the final letter from that half breed headmistress which threatened the dreary weight of French bureaucracy. Really, he considered woefully the child had amassed a rather large amount of paperwork. He was in a bind as now the child was on the French system it seemed he had to prove that she would be educated in some way or at least kept safe. There was no way he could abandon her to the French system as the petty officialdom would go digging which would not be ideal.

He considered his options

There was no way he would allow her to attend Hogwarts as a student.

Sending her to France to be educated in one of their crap institutes would break the Unbreakable vow made all those years ago as under French law he would lose guardianship.

Similarly being looked after by a British family would be too close to home and it was too much of a risk for any links being traced back to home.

He was stuck so did what any man in his position facing a sticky solution would do. He called his lawyer. The odious Cassius Olivier was able to floo in that afternoon and listened to his client's predicament. After Dumbledore finished his tirade bemoaning the use of the Unbreakable vow he paused and watched the lawyer simply sip his tea.

Olivier was a shrewd businessman and felt it as well to make his own freedom from responsibility quite clear without any delay. Finally the man spoke. "Well you've certainly been left a little beggar on your hands. There's no responsibility from Olivier & Garett for the unwanted consequences for administrating the Vow."

Dumbledore looked ready to launch another tirade on the costs of keeping the child but Olivier evidently did not intend to remain to listen to the story of Dumbledore's grievances after he had made the position of his firm clear and related the mere dry facts. He did not feel any particular sympathy for irate headmasters of boarding schools.

"Well as a financial advisor, you had better not pay for anything more" he remarked, "unless you want to make presents to the young lady. No one will remember you. She hasn't a brass farthing to call her own."

"But what am I to do?" demanded Dumledore, as if he felt it entirely his duty to make the matter right. "What am I to do?"

"There isn't anything to do," said Olivier, folding up his glasses and slipping them into his pocket. "The mother is dead and you'll end up the same if you don't care for the brat in some way. The child is left a pauper and squib. Nobody is responsible for her but you."

"I am not responsible for her, and I refuse to be made responsible!" Dumbledore became quite white with rage.

Olivier turned to go. "I have nothing to do with that" he said uninterestedly with no sincerity. "Olivier & Garett are not responsible. Very sorry the thing has happened, of course and you've been left with such a burden. It's very simple, feed the child, give it a corner to sleep in and occupy it with some useful employment."

Dumbledore seethed at the obvious insincerity but Olivier's words resulted in pause for thought. "Olivier, how strict is this caring responsibility? Can I simply leave her with the house elves."

The lawyer paused but shook his head. "She's not a house elf and magic has different standards for humanity and elves. The only way you could do it is…" He paused with a grin that sent a slight shiver down his client's back. It was the grin of the cat that's not only got the cream but scratched all pretenders to the cream as well as the cow who provided the milk.

The lawyer headed back to the chairs. "Tell me dear Dumbledore have you ever heard of a little charm called the Human House Elf? No? Well it was used in the 18th and 19th century by a few select families. It's a replica of the original house elf charms. House elves are bound to a building or person and there is a physical pull to obey despite any wish to the contrary. However, the evolution and breeding of house elves resulted in the desire to obey and serve. If a house elf doesn't obey, it physically irritates and worsens until the itch is scratched by completing whatever task and they may even need to punish themselves further such is the itch. Some bright sparks in Jamaica decided to experiment on humans, muggles, squibs and the poorest wizards. It's a lot cruder but essentially the charm means they are physically bound to a person and compelled to do whatever task instructed by their owner."

Dumbledore considered his lawyer's propositions, "So, I bind the brat to me and she can just do jobs around Hogwarts. What about the paperwork?"

Olivier smiled again. "The beauty of this is that it allows the erasure of bureaucratic humanity. She's legally the standard of a house elf. No one makes lists about them and no one ever inquires about their welfare. She'll be legally wiped of any lists."

"What happens when she turns seventeen? Is it all removed?"

Olivier scoffed. "It doesn't matter. Whilst she physically matures there's no difference in the legal status. It'll make it better really. No one's going to question an adult working at Hogwarts, but you'll get questions if you see a thirteen year old washing floors. We'll bind her to you as Hogwarts is too instable. My advice is to make her useful below stairs and you can get a good deal out of her as she grows older."

"I will get a good deal out of her before she grows older!" exclaimed Dumbledore.

"I am sure you will, Sir," said Olivier with a little sinister smile. "I am sure you will. Right this is done through a potion so I'll send it to you tomorrow. Good day."

The potion was delivered the subsequent day and Elodie was duly administered the brew. It took her a week to recover from the noxious substance that essentially reconfigured parts of her insides. It was left to the house elves to explain to the child she was now bound to the headmaster and would work alongside them. And thus it was that the Human House elf commenced her duties. Whilst eleven and twelve year olds were sorted on the evening of 1st September their invisible peer was in the huge scullery washing up. She had been wiped off any list and indeed the only people aware of her existence were the House elves and Dumbledore. If a certain Welsh wizard ever thought of an old pupil it would be a few long years before they were reunited.