A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Harry Potter.

I have no beta.

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With the unexpected aid of one Luna Lovegood, Harry had found himself making his way toward the Hogwarts Kitchens. He had been a little skeptical, until he had tickled the pear and had been greeted with the opening that led to a large room.

Large tables, reminiscent of the ones in the Great Hall, took up most of the space. From what he could tell, they were somehow linked together. It would explain how the food just magically seemed to appear out of nowhere as if blossoming on the tables.

The room was filled with House Elves. From every corner, there was an Elf doing something with something.

Harry hadn't been expecting any of them to acknowledge him, but the moment he walked in, hundreds of baseball like eyes turned in his direction, and several Elves asked if he needed something.

Some were holding platters of food while others were holding large pots of boiling liquids.

Harry thought House Elves were pretty awesome, but he did not like their mentality. That they had to do whatever they could to please whoever came along. Sometimes, he wished they were allowed to have their own personalities, without having to adhere to whatever their Master or their Master's friends wanted.

Of course Harry hadn't really gotten a chance to look over any of the Elves, before he was almost knocked over by a sudden weight slamming into his legs. And whom should the weight belong to? Dobby.

The excitable little Elf had decided that a physical greeting was in order, and his bright, green eyes shined happily as he stared up at Harry. Harry was touched by the devotion that was showed to him, despite them not really knowing each other all that well. It was like that one being who was on his side, was a House Elf.

But at least he had somebody.

Harry gave the House Elf a smile and asked if they could go elsewhere to talk. He also might have stolen a treacle tart off of passing platter as he was walking by. But that was neither here nor there.

Carefully and quietly, Harry informed Dobby that he was in need of some assistance. The House Elves new that Harry had been entered into the tournament against as will, so it did not shock Dobby when he mentioned it. Dobby took the situation a lot differently than he expected.

He thought he would have been worried for Harry's safety, but instead, Dobby had burst into tears about how touched he was that the 'great Harry Potter' would come to him of all beings for help. Harry didn't really know what was the big deal was, but he let the Elf have his moment.

Harry was an incredibly emotional creature, and when he was allowed to express himself in any way he felt was necessary, he usually was in a better mood and his performance was better. So Harry could totally give Dobby the time that he needed in order to gather his wits.

When Dobby had finally righted it himself, he agreed to help Harry with the First Task. Harry outlined a plan, and the Elf agreed to it immediately. He did not even stop to consider that Harry was basically going to be breaking and entering, stealing, and most likely murdering another magical creature.

No, Dobby seemed to only focus on the fact that his life was in danger once again, and that Harry needed all the help he could get.

That was how Harry found himself gallivanting about Scotland, searching different army barracks for different Muggle weaponry.

Harry had to think about all the magic that many wizards did not know of. House Elves were capable of many extraordinary things. Elves were meant to be invisible. Unless they had been summoned, it was supposed to be as if they did not exist in the house. Something that impressed Harry a lot, was their ability to turn themselves invisible and anything they so chose invisible, in order to go unseen.

It proved especially helpful for Harry who could not use his magic outside of Hogwarts, without him being found by the Trace that was on his wand. Therefore, Harry had to rely on Dobby for pretty much everything that was going on. Dobby handled the magical section, and Harry handled the plotting.

And it all went over splendidly.

They had come away with enough ammunition to probably fell an army of one thousand men. Especially if they were to use one bullet each.

Harry had hundreds of bullets to go through, so he would have enough time to practice his aim.

And how hard could it be to use a gun? Muggles used them all the time!

Of course, Harry had to learn the hard way, that handling such weaponry was a lot harder than we thought it was. He only had a couple of days to learn how to at least aim the damn thing.

So he wasn't that great, and he lost over seven hundred bullets, but that was okay.

Dragons were pretty big and they took up a lot of space. So if his aiming was a little(a lot) off center, he was certain that he would still manage to hit the creature somewhere.

He simply couldn't wait to rain down calamity upon the heads of the residents of Magical Britain. Force them to understand the dangers that Muggles posed to them. He would make them understand that he was not a person to cross. And finally, he would make them understand him better than they ever thought they could.

Change was coming. Time was passing. Eventually, Magical Britain would be forced to acknowledge people outside of their jurisdiction.

It would be glorious.


A/N: Another is done!

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