Chapter 3: The Crash
The boat ride was pleasant. However, I was too cynical to see the castle's beauty.
We walked up to the enormous gate, where Hagrid got us inside. McGonagall led us to the entrance hall by the Great Hall.
Draco looked mighty sour. He glared at me from the side with murder in his eyes. It was understandable. After all, he'd swallowed a bit of piss lately.
Amusingly, he tried to befriend the boy-who-lived, Neville, but his attempt failed as the other boy smelled him. The curl on Neville's lips made me burst out laughing. No doubt Malfoy blamed me for his failure. I could see it in his eyes.
McGonagall returned shortly after and led us to the Great Hall, where a nearly thousand faces peered back at us. It shocked me to see how many kids they packed into the hall.
The numbers confirmed this was an alternate reality, and looking at the head table with the professors only pronounced it. For one, there was no Sybill Trelawney. Did that mean the prophecy wasn't real?
The rest of them looked about right. Mister turban sat next to the all-black wearing Snape. Then there was the flight instructor, the others whose names I'd forgotten, and at the head of the table sat Dumbledore in all his magical glory. While I'd been pondering over the ramifications of a missing professor, the sorting had already begun.
They'd gone through the As and Bs, and now they were going through the Cs. It was just after Tracey Davis got sorted into Slytherin that I knew my name was coming up.
"Dobby."
I stepped forth, and I heard the nearest people gasp. That's right, be in awe of my magnificence. I waved at the curious kids with a friendly smile. At the chair, I noticed it was tall for me. No matter, a snap of the fingers took care of it.
The chair shrunk until it was closer to size. I climbed on, and the professor stuck the larger-than-my-head hat on me. Of course, it covered my entire noggin.
You have a cunning mind, and a great deal of ambition, but there's also plenty of courage. Oh my, you have pride, so much of it. You're fair to your friends, but you're not very hardworking.
Put me where you think is best.
In that case, it better be "Gryffindor."
The seated people cheered, although it was more muted compared to Lavender Brown before me. I guess they didn't like house-elves anymore than the usual pureblood.
The rest of the sorting and the feast went on without issue. It was almost canonical. Most students forgot about me, and I wasn't about to open that can of worms again. The less they notice me, the more freedom I have to act as I pleased.
Longbottom and his ilk sat a few seats to the left. Ron was already trying to get into his good graces, but the tactless boy had to stuff his foot into his mouth.
"How can you not like Quidditch?"
I saw Ron's eyes droop once Neville started talking about his reason, many of which sounded like excuses. The more interesting part was how Ron's countenance went from looking like someone killed his favorite pet to not giving a fuck. Suddenly, he took part in the conversation again without mentioning Quidditch even once. Was he always this cunning? Maybe it was another quirk of this reality.
The Gryffidors finished eating, and a prefect led us to the dorms. It was pleasant, if noisy. I wanted to get the best spot for a bed, so I sneaked away while the prefect laid down the law. It wasn't like I was planning on getting caught doing things, so I'd live by my own rules, anyway.
The dorm had seven beds, and four of them stood near a window. I didn't want a view, nor the cold draft of winter next to my bed, so I picked one near the door. Now that I secured an easy way out, and an easy way in, it was time to relax. As I looked through my trunk, the rest of the boys walked through the door.
"What's a house-elf doing here? Weren't you supposed to do your jobs before we get here? Go on, get going," said Neville.
Ron snickered behind the boy, and they all walked to the center of the room. I ignored the jab and continued sorting my clothes into the small closet next to the bed.
The others talked amongst themselves about who got which bed. Neville seemed hellbent on taking mine, but I'd not allow it. They even got Harry to take part in the farce.
"Hey, didn't I tell you to go?"
"I'm unpacking my clothes, you daft prick. Also, this is my bed."
He bristled at my comment, but he focused on the second part. He was prideful, but he wasn't a hothead.
"No, it's mine. I picked it first."
"I was here before any of you, so this bed was off the table by the time you walked through the doors, dumbass."
"Don't house-elves live in the kitchens or something. I heard my brothers mention them," said Ron.
"Is this the first time in your life you got refused? Then, it must pain you to know you ain't getting this bed."
Neville let out a snort. Then he dug out his wand and pointed it at me. I faced him and put my hands on my hips.
He waved it in fancy moves and mumbled something. Everyone waited with bated breath for what would happen, and the others back away from the center. I quirked my non-existent right eyebrow.
The only result of his spell work was a few sparks from his wand. Then he jabbed it towards me, but nothing offensive left the tip.
"I guess it's the squib-who-lived, not boy."
"Shut up."
"It happens to the best of you. Here, watch this, boys."
I snapped my fingers, and Neville fell down like a log. Then I levitated him into the bed furthest away from mine and closed the bed's curtains.
"Neville," shouted Ron.
"There, he'll be fine in the morning."
I continued sorting my clothes and books and I whistled a random tune. I managed all of one minute before another interruption.
"What have you done with him, you fiend? Return him back to normal."
I turned my head to gaze at the foolish boy.
He held his wand in shaking hands, and his face looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. The combination of incompetence and bravery made me burst out in a laugh. I bet he didn't even know any magic.
"You know, Ron, I can put you right next to him if you want to sleep together."
He hesitated, as was clear from his hand dropping a few inches, but his bravado returned with a bit more certainty in it.
"Alright, hit me with your best shot. Do it right here," I said and patted my chest.
"Eat slugs!"
Strangely enough, even with the butchered wand work, the boy's wand spat out a green light. I stepped aside and watched it leave a small mark on the stone floor.
"Nice work, Ronniekins."
"Shut up. Eat slu–"
I ripped the wand out of his hand with a wandless expelliarmus. Then I repeated the tricks I used with Neville and laid him down in the same bed.
"Aren't they cute together?"
To my surprise, I was talking to an empty room.
The others must have sneaked out during the altercations, not wanting to be a part of it. I shrugged, unloaded my luggage, and laid down for the night. The bed curtains I charmed to stay shut, and I cast the Imperturbable charm to keep their snores out. I slept nigh instantly.
The morning breakfast came with the expected class schedule, but McGonagall hovered around for an extra minute.
"Dobby, the Headmaster would like to see you before the morning classes. Mr. Weasley will take you after you've eaten."
What would he want to talk about? The question remained in my head for the entire breakfast. I savored the food, but I saw Percy pacing around near the Great Hall entrance. What an impatient fellow.
"There you are. Follow me. Come now. Quickly now."
He walked like the hounds of hell were on his ass. I couldn't keep up.
"Hold the fuck on, boy. I can't keep up with these stubby legs."
"Language. Ah–"
He looked at me and my not so pleased look.
"I apologize."
The rest of the trip went by quick, and we arrived at the Headmaster's office.
"The password is Ice Mice," he said and turned around without a sound.
I could already see the haughty rudeness known from the latter books coming into his character. It was like the world was beneath him. Well, one deadly failure, and he'd be humbled.
"Ice Mice."
The gargoyle rotated slowly. Its steps were tall and obviously not designed for elves. If not for my extensive workouts in the past months, I would have struggled to climb them.
"Come in," came from the inside right as I was about to knock.
I shrugged and banged open the door.
The room had a variety of knickknacks around and heaps of books everywhere, but the most outstanding things were Mr. Malfoy and Mrs. Longbottom. They looked at me like I killed their boys instead of the light humiliation it was in reality. Damn, the little shits work fast.
"There you are, Dobby. Let's get this underway. I heard you had an altercation with Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Longbottom. Is this true?"
I noticed the calculating looks of the other two occupants. Dumbledore looked like he wanted nothing to do with this, but he'd do his job either way.
"Sure, we didn't get along very well."
"Now, the board of governors have called for a vote. It's about whether we allow elves to attend Hogwarts. I am of the mind that–"
The rest of his spiel went in through one ear and out the other. Were these people so petty they'd kick me out at the first sign of defiance?
"Actually, the vote has already been held," said Lucius.
"It was unanimous. The elf must go."
The last of his words he directed at me, and he didn't hide the self-satisfied smile. I also spotted Mrs. Longbottom's nasty sneer in the background.
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, Dobby. You should find your things packed and delivered to the train. It will return you to London."
I stood, looking through all of their faces and withholding my words for nearly twenty seconds until I spoke, "Right. Are we done?"
They must have expected something else, probably begging, as their eyes widened minutely at my remark. I wasn't about to do any of that. In fact, I could accomplish my objectives outside of the school as well.
It seemed, if you weren't the boy-who-lived, the Headmaster wouldn't have your back. I was just another casualty of wizarding world's bigotry.
The trip to the train was quiet, as most people were in their morning classes. The school grounds lit orange from the morning sun, but it was the light mist around the Black Lake and the forest that drew my eye.
Such simple beauty. How could I walk past it every day and not notice? Likely, it was the predisposition to live in my head–A habit learned in the tight confines of a concrete cell; It was a place where nature existed only in the mind, where peace was a foreign concept. Maybe getting expelled on the first day was a blessing in disguise. Who was I to save this world? I owed nothing to anyone, but this new chance for life was priceless.
I could be the player in the shadows, guiding certain events to a better conclusion, but I didn't need to be in the fray. Why not enjoy life to the fullest?
I could find out about Dumbledore's character through his actions. A little letter with Pettigrew's location and identity, and we'd see if little Harry gets his godfather back.
I walked the street towards the crooked alleyway near Leaky Cauldron while pondering on the future.
Hello there, potential host! You may roll for a System. You have three chances of a lifetime to receive one of our premium Systems. Good luck!
I blinked my eyes in confusion, but also partly because of the strange words occupying my vision. Alright then mystery thing, take the words away.
The message vanished, and another window popped up in front of me. This one had a roulette wheel, and a button that said 'Roll'.
"Seems easy enough."
I checked my surroundings for any nosy people. There was no one, but I still hid behind the nearby trash cans.
The wheel spun in a mesmerizing display of glitter and sparks before slowing down and settling on something. The text was far too small to read, so I waited for the inevitable, the announcer's voice.
Congratulations! You've rolled the 'Canon be changed System.' Would you like to integrate and initialize? (Yes/No).
Did I want to change canon? It was already vastly different from what I could tell. Then again, maybe this System had the power to make things more canon-like. What the hell was a System anyway?
"Hey announcer, what's a System?"
I only heard crickets, though it was likely my imagination. The fucking thing wasn't going to answer.
The counter had two more rolls before I was out. Squinting my big eyes, I tried to read the System names from the wheel.
"Mountain splitting, earth shattering, soil destroying System," said one of the options.
"What the ever-living fuck is this?"
"Harem king System," said another option.
I whistled.
"Right, let's roll again. How do I get this offer to vanish?"
"Vanish."
Nothing happened.
(Yes/No).
"Alright, don't get uppity. No," I said with the clearest pronunciation I could. The message went away. Next, I pressed the button, suffered the sparkling shit again, and looked at the results without actually seeing anything.
Congratulations! You've rolled the 'Tycoon System.' Would you like to integrate and initialize? (Yes/No).
"Money makes the world go around, but I'll be damned before I waste another second being locked indoors. I can do better. Thanks, but this ain't for me."
(Yes/No).
"Piss off. No."
The message vanished, and the roulette wheel returned. I still had one last roll left, so I pressed the button.
It felt like forever until the rolling ceased. It stopped somewhere between the 'Cooking God System' and the 'Magic System.'
"Damn, Magic System would have been good here."
Congratulations, You've rolled the 'Performing Arts System.' Would you like to integrate and initialize? (Yes/No).
I stared at the results with my mouth dangling open, and my eyes slightly wide with disbelief.
"Have you seen what I look like? Are there many elves in Shakespeare?"
I waited for the robotic answer, but it was for naught. The thing wasn't sentient enough to understand me.
"Of course not! How could I perform a fucking play with stubby feet and a squeaky voice? No! I don't want your shit."
The message vanished, but the roulette wheel stayed in my vision.
"Why are you still here?"
I pressed the button, but it didn't react. Next, I punched it.
"Move it."
The window vanished. I sighed.
"Whatever, I don't even know what a System is, so maybe I dodged a bullet there."
Hello ingrate, ROB here. I couldn't help but notice you failed to select a System, so I picked one for you. Enjoy!
The message ended with a winky-face emoji. My lips curled in disgust out of habit.
The 'Young master achievement System' initialized.
I had to blink twice to come to terms with the development.
"You–"
System greets young master. Would you like to know more? (Yes/No).
Maybe it wasn't so bad.
"Yes," I said with hesitation.
The young master achievement System helps you in your hedonistic journey towards luxurious living. Enjoy the services of heavenly beauties and groveling sycophants. Of course, a bit of arrogance and haughtiness is a must, but with this System, you'll come along in no time. Your experience, nay, your transformation from being a frog in a well into the most thoroughly feared, despised, and revered young master begins now.
My left eye got a tic, and I let it be for a while. Then I gathered my lungs full of air and shouted, "ROB!"
The raging sound echoed from the alley's bricks and into the world around it.
"Please, don't hurt me. I have a family," said someone from the side.
I rounded the dumpster, anger still on my face, and I came face to face with a tubby man holding out his wallet. His eyes widened after he saw me, but I dropped him with a quick stunner. The following sigh deflated me and my anger.
The wallet had maybe a hundred pounds sticking out of it. I picked it up, and threw the rest onto him. I didn't need his shit, however, his fat face reminded me of an inmate I'd never liked. I kicked him, but the weak force behind it barely made him grunt.
"Stupid."
I sighed again.
System or not, I still needed to send the letter to Dumbledore. This was a setback, but I could handle it.
Mission One: Get a beauty to feed you grapes.
"Awesome," I said in exasperation.
With heaviness on my shoulders, I began trek to the hotel. First, though, I needed grapes.
Weekly Power Status
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