Notes: This came up when I was talking with Jizmore about fic ideas on the DLP IRC. I couldn't let it go, so here it is in all it's rough glory.

Disclaimer: I make no profit off this. I don't own Harry Potter.

It was a crisp August morning as Harry Potter crawled out of his large, four-poster bed, the crisp morning air stinging his face. It had been a month now since he had fled from the Hell of Privet Drive.

He had been contacted at the end of July and informed that his parent's estate - some land and a cottage at Godric's Hollow - was now legally his. He found himself astonished that the last time he had thought of the property was nearly three years ago, when thoughts on his parents murder had occupied his thoughts year-round.

He had quickly penned a short note to Professor Dumbledore, explaining the inheritance, and asking for permission to visit the property immediately. He could remember, almost as if it were only moments ago, sitting down on the edge of his bed and anxiously awaiting the reply. He wouldn't have had to wait long, as the Professor had sent Fawkes back immediately telling him that the Order would need to clear the premises before he could visit, and that he was unsure if he could spare agents to sweep the premises thoroughly enough.

He initially agreed with this logic, but then other thoughts started emerging. What if his family had dark objects? After all, the Potters were purebloods, but did he really want his family's possessions lost due to this conflict? He argued with the voices in his head for a few minutes, and decided that no matter the climate of the world, his family's belongings need not be sacrificed due to it, dark or not.

The problem now was, though, how to get to Godric's Hollow before the Order did? He could fly, but he had absolutely no way of knowing just where the house actually was, so that was out. He could take a thestral, but the only ones he knew of were at Hogwarts, so that wasn't an option either. The Knight Bus would work, but that'd tip the Order off pretty quickly - first by seeing him leaving the house, and second he reckoned that they likely had a network of informants by now. Again, another possibility shot.

Then it hit him, almost like a bolt of lightning to the side of his head. His pulse started to race and he stood and started pacing. It could work, he thought. Coming to a halt he stood straight and extended his arm, a snap from his fingers breaking the early morning silence of his room on Privet Drive.

"Dobby, come!"

A piercing crack filled the air and near-instantaneously a small creature stood before him with a large pointed nose and pointy ears.

"Harry Potter sir called for Dobby?" He said, cowering slightly.

"Yes, look Dobby, I was wondering if you couldn't possibly get me to Godric's Hollow, preferably without alerting the guards out front?" The small elf's skiddish posture straighten out somewhat at this and he gave a short nod.

Dobby had grabbed ahold of his hand firmly, and he had near immediately felt as if he were riding on wind, as if the ever-present gravity itself had disappeared. They landed with a sudden thud, his knees buckling under the impact.

He had straightened up and, with Dobby in tow, walked up the short cobblestone walkway and into his new home.

The next week was spent, with the assistance of Dobby, cleaning up and rearranging the house to suit his needs better. He had indeed come upon some books of questionable content, but they were quickly hidden away in a small, inset cupboard on one of the walls in the sitting room.

Over the course of the weeks Harry had noticed an odd change in Dobby. The elf seemed to be walking straighter, with more confidence. The most noticeable change was that the small creature seemed to be getting more clumsy. During tea one afternoon, the creature had lost his balance and dunked his tiny elbow into the tea. The boiling liquid had scalded the skin rapidly, and with a blush rising in his cheeks, Dobby loudly popped away.

This struck a chord in Harry's memory, but he couldn't quiet place it, it had been bugging him for weeks. Finally, a few days later, Harry sat Dobby down and questioned him about the changes.

"I'm not sure what sir means, Dobby has been behaving normally." He had said, wringing his hands about nervously.

"I know somethings up Dobby, you've never acted this way before, what's going on?" The elf had cast it's eyes downward, and Harry, noticing that whatever it was was a source of shame for him, gently prodded.

"It's okay to tell me Dobby, really, who am I going to tell? I hardly talk about what's in my own head, much less yours. Go on."

"Well it's just that... you see, Dobby's family isn't pure Elf blood, Harry Potter sirs, I'm what the wizards would call Half-Blooded. Dobby's grandmother worked for a prominent and proud family, but with the onset of the war my grandmother's owner had taken up drinking more than his fair share of firewhiskey. The familys funds had dried up, sir, and the owner took to abusing my grandmother. Dobby is half-wizard, Harry Potter sir."

Harry stared dumbfounded at the tiny elf. He didn't know that the two species could even mix, much less produce children.

He slowly lifted Dobby's chin and said "It's perfectly alright Dobby, you know I'm a half-blood in my own right. Yes, it's a little odd, but it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of." The tears that had been on the verge of spilling now did so freely.

"Harry Potter sir is so kind to Dobby. If the elves at Hogwarts ever found out, Dobby would be lucky to survive the night." A bright glow had slowly spread across Dobby's body during the monologue, his features contorting.

Harry stepped back as Dobby transformed into a human. He was of moderate height, had blue eyes and bright orange hair. He was wearing a knitted sweater that Harry had seen at least a hundred times by now with a big "D" on the front.

Harry backed into a wall and whispered "What the fuck?"

The End.

A/N: Yes, Dobby evolved into a Weasley. Says a lot about the Elven race, doesn't it? 8P