[ EU ] If George R. R. Martin wrote Harry Potter

Dobby staggered through the graveyard, a worn and splintered wand in his hand. He left a small trail of blood on the ground, his left leg giving him only enough support to slowly make his way forward. 
 
 Dazed, he stopped to rest besides a tombstone and looked at the engraved name: Bill & Fluer Weasley ( Their Brief time together as Beautiful as their Love for Each Other ). He recognized this stone, he knew the plot, and almost casually looked from stone to stone, remembering old friends, before resting eyes on a simple tombstone, slightly smaller than the rest. Harry Potter ( Though not of our family, our family he became ). His eyes read and reread the inscription, and although already memorized, he said the words aloud. 
 
 “ I hear you, come on! ’ a voice carried through the graveyard, sharp and impatient. 
 
 The house elf ’ s head turned in the direction and started to limp. Wand held resolutely. 
 
 There, sitting on a small dais worked a man at a desk lit by green candles. Balding and greying his hair still hinted at red. 
 
 “ You were his friend! ” cried Dobby, and flew at the man. Wand shooting out spells that bounced away from the man as though he was protected by an invisible bubble. One of the spells ricocheted perfectly and hit the house-elf full on the stomach, sending him flying backward and out of breath. 
 
 “ Who? ” The man had taken off a pair of thick glasses, and looked casually at the now flat house-elf. “ I haven ’ t had many friends in my life. Much fewer now than I ’ ve ever had. Though, I suppose, …. ” The man placed the tip of his glasses to his mouth, “ No, I don ’ t have any friends now. I ’ ve killed quite a few people lately though. Are you perhaps mistaken? Perhaps I have killed one of your friends? Are you supposed to have that wand? ” 
 
 Dobby sat up, trying to stand. “ The only true and just friend that you had ever known! None shall know a truer friend than that of Harry Potter! ” Dobby tried to send another hex toward the man, but it bounced away harmlessly. 
 
 “ Hmmm,.. ” Said the man, then replaced his glasses and began once more to write in the tome before him. 
 
 In fury, the house-elf screamed and launched himself, alongside a half dozen curses and hexes at the man. Again, only to be stopped by an invisible wall. 
 
 “ Harry Potter, ” the man sneered. “ Of all I have done, the atrocities I have committed, the graves I have filled, ” with this the man nonchalantly waved at the graveyard around him, “ All this, and you come to me for one boy? That boy? ” he pointed at the offending gravestone. 
 
 “ This bores me. You bore me. Leave now or never again. It doesn ’ t matter to me. ” 
 
 “ Promise me, Foul Master, ” spat the house elf, “ that my grave will be here among true friends and family! ” 
 
 Lazily, the man waved his hand with the pencil in it at the house elf, and he fell to the ground. 
 
 Sometime later, when the man remembered, ( he could not recall how much time had passed ) he attempted to make the house elf an inferi. But the house elf remained quite unmoving. He summoned two other inferi to gather the corpse. One short and plump, the other slightly taller and skinnier. 
 
 “ Find a spot and bury it, “ He commanded. “ I don ’ t care, …. ” 

