A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 110: Dobby's Defiance

Under the watchful gaze of Felix Harp, the diary suddenly oozed a copious amount of inky black fluid, dripping onto the ground with a steady rhythm, causing the floor to emit wisps of dark smoke.

"Clean as new!" The ink vanished.

The diary was utterly destroyed.

As a Horcrux, it had a tremendous resistance to conventional spells, yet it couldn't withstand the scorching flames of Fiendfyre. Especially Felix's Fiendfyre-infused sword, which was arguably his most destructive magic.

However, under his deliberate protection, it didn't burn to ashes. The Fiendfyre sword only burned a fist-sized hole through the diary—still useful remains for Felix.

Felix's gaze fell upon the house-elf named Dobby.

With the help of magical elixirs, he had pieced together the sequence of events—

As a servant of the Malfoy family, Dobby had overheard many of Lucius Malfoy's secrets. When he learned that his master had used Ginny Weasley to bring the Dark Lord's relic into Hogwarts, he felt a deep debt to the benefactor of his kind—the one called Harry Potter. This led him to act repeatedly in secret, trying to protect Harry.

This included but was not limited to intercepting Harry Potter's letters, obstructing his way to the train, controlling a rogue Bludger on the Quidditch pitch to harm Harry...

Of course, it also included today's attempt to slip into the office and steal the diary while Felix was in class.

The effects of the elixir were wearing off, and the elf's eyelids twitched, indicating he might awaken at any moment.

Dobby slowly opened his eyes.

He dragged his slender body off the ground, repeatedly inspecting his long fingers with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Where is Dobby? Dobby remembers. Dobby defied Master's will and sneaked in while that person was in class..." He spoke while observing his surroundings. Soon, his gaze met Felix, who was sitting on the couch—

He let out a yelp, stumbled back a few steps, and fearfully covered his face with his hands.

Through the gaps between his bony fingers, Dobby's large eyes were brimming with terror. "F-F-Felix Harp!"

The house-elf instinctively tried to escape; his diminutive figure blurred, but in the next moment, he froze in place.

Felix lowered his wand, his somewhat nostalgic voice reaching Dobby's ears. "Impressive talent, house-elves truly are magical creatures, but alas, their magic is too feeble."

Dobby's magic was hardly a tenth of that possessed by a normal adult wizard.

Extraordinary potential, meager magic, such were the characteristics of house-elves. During his time at school, Felix had devoted considerable time to studying the vulnerabilities of various magical creatures, house-elves included.

In one-on-one encounters over a short period, house-elves could leverage their natural gifts to surprise wizards, gaining an upper hand in a fight; however, with focused training for a month or two, they became no match for wizards.

The panicked house-elf struggled desperately, attempting to break free from invisible bonds. But when Felix uttered a name, Dobby's body petrified, completely immobilized.

"Lucius Malfoy."

Dobby's expression grew even more fearful, as if Felix's words had stirred some primal instinct within him. Trembling all over, he exclaimed, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" He suddenly jumped up, his body involuntarily moving toward the nearest cabinet.

Felix waved his wand, guiding him to a seat opposite him. He spoke calmly, "Dobby, I hold no desire for the Dark Lord's relic, and you needn't worry about me engaging in any dangerous deeds."

"Dobby doesn't believe!" he screamed, "That is... that is the darkest magic creation. It will influence you, make you as terrifying as the one whose name can't be mentioned..."

"snap!"

An old, tattered diary landed on the small table between the two, sporting a sizable hole at its center. The edges of the hole were remarkably neat, as if it had always been that way.

Dobby's voice seemed caught in his throat, unable to utter a single word. After a long while—

"This is..." Dobby clumsily got to his feet, his expression a mix of confusion and bewilderment. Taking cautious steps, he approached the table, then hopped onto it, crouching to examine the damaged diary.

His tennis-ball-like eyes widened in amazement. "Unbelievable! Inconceivable... Mr. Harry Potter is safe!" Tears rolled down his sharp, elongated nose.

He wiped his tears with the ragged pillowcase he wore, mumbling softly in between. But soon, he realized something and shouted, "Bad Dobby! Very bad, very bad Dobby!" He searched around, seemingly trying to find something to punish himself with.

Felix shook his head; house-elves had once been in conflict with wizards and were bound by extremely stringent magical contracts after their defeat. This obedience to their masters' commands had become an intrinsic instinct passed down through generations.

Examples like Dobby, who dared to intrude on powerful wizards' territories without their permission, were quite exceptional among house-elves.

Felix tapped the armrest of the couch with his fingers, as if striking a chime. Dobby reacted as if struck, regaining his composure.

"Let's have a proper talk, Dobby."

Dobby cautiously regarded him. "What would you like to know, noble and powerful Mr. Harp?"

Though Felix already understood the situation, he remained curious about a few aspects. He inquired, "I wish to understand why the diary passed through the hands of three individuals: Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and myself. But why did you choose to steal it precisely while it was in my possession?"

Three holders, two young wizards, and one formidable professor; why choose the most difficult one?

Dobby's expression grew quite cautious; he hunched his body and spoke softly, "Because I couldn't, sir. My body prevented me. One is a young master, and the other is of high status... I couldn't, couldn't..." He let out a sharp cry.

Felix pondered; 'not moving the young master' was understandable as a reason, but what did 'high-status Ginny' mean? Could it be tied to the honor of a pure-blood family...

So, am I really not pure-blood? Or is it that house-elves also make judgments based on external information?

Felix shook his head; he didn't care about the answer to that question.

"How did you manage to overcome your body's instincts to perform these actions? I assume Lucius Malfoy didn't allow you to act on your own?"

This question seemed to startle Dobby; he sobbed softly.

"Dobby, Dobby is willing to do anything to save Mr. Harry Potter. Dobby had to punish himself, banging his head against the wall, burning his hands with a hot iron..." He reached a point where his tennis-ball-like eyes grew immense. "But it's all worth it, for the safety of Mr. Harry Potter! If it's not expressly forbidden by the master, Dobby can do it, even though Dobby's actions displease the master. Dobby must punish himself. Merlin's beard! Bad Dobby! Very bad, very bad Dobby!"

He fiercely tugged at his own ears.

Hmm... Felix observed him. Indeed, another remarkable talent among house-elves, seizing on these loopholes in the rules.

Felix glanced at the clock on the wall; around twenty minutes had passed. He decided to temporarily conclude this conversation.

Communication with the author, to be published on the 31st of this month, requires diligently accumulating drafts.

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