AN: A tad bit silly.
"Master Harry Potter, Sir!"
Harry blearily opened his eyes. "Murgle?"
"No, Master Harry Potter Sir, I is not a Muggle, I is Dobby."
Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I do realize that, Dobby. What is it?"
Dobby seemed to be bouncing from the ceiling. "Master Harry Potter Sir.."
"Dobby. I told you, oh, about twice a day for the past hundred years, to just call me Harry."
"Yes, Master Harry Sir," Dobby bounced even more, and Harry gave up, "Well, Master Harry Sir remembers when Dobby married Winky and Dobby and Winky be trying to have little ones?"
Unfortunately, Harry remembered that all too clearly. It had led to him putting some hefty permanent Silencing wards on the rooms in the attic where the elves lived.
"Yes, Dobby. But I thought you and Winky…well…"
Dobby stopped bouncing briefly and nodded. "Dobby and Winky stop trying about fifty years ago, Master Harry Sir. But…but…" The elf started to glow with pride and happiness, "Dobby and Winky is finally having a little one!"
Harry's eyes widened. "Seriously, Dobby? That is awesome!"
Then he blinked. "Wait…but…Witches can only conceive up until age 70, give or take. Elves…"
"Oh, Elves lives much longer," Dobby said, "Dobby is older than Dumblydore. And Winky nearly two hundred, too."
"O….kay…" Harry sat on the edge of his bed, hunting for his glasses, "when is the baby due, Dobby? I should like to get a gift…"
"Master Harry Sir is such a sweet and kind wizard!" Dobby beamed, "Baby is due in four years."
"F…four?" Harry stammered.
"Elves lives long. Hundreds of years. Elves has long gestation periods," Dobby explained.
"Ok. Ok, I get it. Well, good luck with the pregnancy. You will let me know if there's anything Winky needs to make her more comfortable, right? And she's not to overexert herself."
"Master Harry never lets Dobby and Winky overexert," Dobby reminded him, "bond with Master Harry will give Dobby and Winky strong child, powerful child."
Harry's brain refused to let in this piece of information for fear of unclean mental images, which was just as well.
Indeed, four years later, shortly after Harry's one hundred and twenty-first birthday, Winky gave birth to a little house elf boy. Harry went to visit them right away, bringing a tiny crib, several toys and stuffed animals for the baby. As soon as he saw the greenish little bundle of joy, and stroked the head with one finger, he winced and stepped back as if bitten. Which was quite impossible, the little one having no teeth.
"What was that?" he said, examining the blanket-wrapped infant closer. Winky handed it to him, and he very carefully cradled the tiny thing in both hands.
"Such a lot of power…" Harry frowned, "what is this?"
"I told you, Master Harry Sir. Strong child, powerful child." Dobby said proudly.
"I'll say. This one is going to surprise the whole world one day," Harry acknowledged, completely unconcerned. This was Dobby and Winky's child, and while he sometimes questioned both parents' sanity, he never ever had cause to doubt their loyalty and devotion.
"You best start him on a decent education as soon as he's ready," he remarked, "I'll bear the costs. Such potential must be nurtured.
The elves looked at him in pure adoration, which made him feel highly uncomfortable. He noticed the baby's eyes had opened and were studying him intensely. He smiled, and was rewarded with a soft sigh and a baby going back to its peaceful sleep. Handing it back to his parents, Harry beamed.
"It'll be nice to have a little one around the house again," he said wistfully, remember when his own children were small, "what is his name?"
"We is wanting a good, strong name for him," Dobby explained, "Strong name for strong boy. No pet name to be teased. We is naming him Yoda."
"Yoda," Harry tried, "That is a fine name. Welcome, little Yoda. It'll be interesting to see where this life will take you."