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"The diary… it was there when school started, tucked inside one of my books," she whispered, almost burying her head against her chest.
"My books… they were all bought from a second-hand bookstore, so…"
Sagres nodded thoughtfully. "Flourish and Blotts Second-Hand Books?"
"Yes, Professor…"
He fell into deep thought. That didn't make sense.
When he was a student, there had been an incident at Flourish and Blotts where a student purchased a Dark Arts book. Since then, the shop had implented extrely strict detection procedures on every second-hand book before shelving them, ensuring no dangerous items slipped through.
A diary infused with powerful Dark Arts could never have easily escaped those safeguards.
"Are you certain you bought it directly from the bookstore? Did anyone else handle your book around that ti?"
The young witch shook her head. "No…"
Then she added uncertainly, "I think… probably not… I rember it very clearly because Dad and Mr. Malfoy had a fight that day…"
Her words trailed off abruptly, and her expression froze.
Sagres raised an eyebrow. "Rembered sothing, Miss Weasley?"
She spoke blankly. "I rember… I rember Mr. Malfoy, after the fight, he shoved my A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration—that old textbook—into my arms… and… and he said sothing sarcastic in a particularly cold tone."
"Oh? What did he say?"
"He said, 'Take it, little girl. This is the best gift your father can give you after working overti to confiscate other people's property.'"
"Hmm.." Sagres nodded slowly. "Very good, Miss Weasley…"
His tone settled back into calm, carrying a reassuring strength. "You don't need to worry about what happens next; just focus on enjoying your studies and your life at Hogwarts."
"Tha… thank you, Professor…"
"Don't thank . I will keep this secret for you—rest assured."
Ginny nodded gratefully.
"I think we need to hurry…" Sagres glanced toward the Great Hall entrance. "Hagrid should be bringing the other fir trees over soon, right?"
The young witch nodded quickly and was just about to reach for a string of baubles when a dreamy, ethereal voice drifted over: "Hi, need any help?"
Ginny Weasley looked toward the sound and saw two Ravenclaw first-year girls who had approached unnoticed.
The girl who had spoken had long, light-blonde hair and pale silver eyes, as though veiled by a thin mist. Around her neck hung a necklace made of colorful bottle caps and sequins. Beside her stood a girl with a quiet, shy deanor.
"Of course." Sagres looked at the two Ravenclaw students and replied calmly, "The more hands, the more Christmas joy."
"We were asking Ginny, Professor Greengrass."
The expression on Sagres's face froze.
"Hello, my na is Luna—Luna Lovegood," the girl with the necklace said, then pointed to her companion beside her. She introduced her to the red-haired girl in a relaxed, natural tone. "This is Astoria."
"Hello, I'm Ginny—Ginny Weasley."
Ginny looked at her two new companions and felt her tightly strung nerves ease a little.
Luna tilted her head, studying Ginny's fiery red hair. "Hmm, I know your na. You have very beautiful red hair—like burning maple syrup in the sunlight."
Ginny felt a little embarrassed by such a peculiar complint.
She turned to the quiet blonde girl beside Luna. "You're… Professor Greengrass's cousin, right?"
Astoria's pale cheeks flushed faintly red with shyness. She nodded gently. "Yes… Hello, Miss Weasley."
…
…
Tomorrow was Christmas, and just like last year, Harry chose to stay at school.
The Weasley children also remained.
Harry could already imagine how wonderful this Christmas would be—perhaps when he opened his eyes, his bedside would once again be piled high with presents.
Thinking of this, he closed his eyes expectantly. Just then, he felt sothing drop with a soft plop onto his duvet.
Harry was startled. Had the presents arrived so quickly? He opened his eyes—and a small, skinny figure suddenly appeared on his bed, staring at him with two huge, tennis-ball-like eyes.
It was that house-elf! The sa one he had seen at the Dursleys', the one who had gotten him locked up for a week!
"It's you again!" Harry hissed, his anger flaring instantly. "What do you want?"
Dobby looked at Harry in the darkness, a large tear rolling down his long, pointed nose. "Harry Potter has returned to school," he said, his voice full of sorrow.
"Dobby… Dobby warned Harry Potter again and again. Sir, why didn't you listen to Dobby's warnings? Harry Potter didn't catch the train—why didn't… why didn't he go ho?"
"How did you know I didn't catch the train?" Harry suddenly realized, his voice rising with shock and fury, nearly waking Ron. "Was that you?!"
He grabbed the house-elf by his tattered pillowcase. "Do you know you nearly got expelled from Hogwarts?"
"Ye… yes," Dobby cringed, though his voice carried a strange trace of satisfaction. "But Harry Potter still ca. Even… even that mad Bludger couldn't stop you…"
"Bludger?" Harry sat bolt upright in bed, all traces of sleep gone. "That was you too? You tried to kill ? It broke my arm!"
"No! Not to kill you!" Dobby shrieked in terror, quickly covering his mouth and shaking his head frantically.
"Dobby would never hurt Harry Potter! Dobby only thought… if Harry Potter was injured, then he would obediently leave Hogwarts. Dobby only wanted to save you! After all, such terrible things happened at Hogwarts… Thankfully, it is all resolved now. Harry Potter is safe…" he murmured, as though trying to comfort himself.
"You wanted to save ?" Harry's voice dripped with incredulous sarcasm. "Your way of 'saving' people is really sothing! I almost died because of you!"
"Waaah… Dobby… Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter…" The house-elf began to sob miserably, tears falling like strings of broken pearls, large drops soaking into Harry's duvet. "Harry Potter blas Dobby… it's… it's right…"
Watching Dobby's small, thin body tremble with each sob, hearing those suppressed, desperate whimpers, Harry's anger deflated like a punctured balloon, replaced by a complicated, inexpressible feeling.
"Don't cry," Harry said, his voice softening despite himself. "The danger you ntioned… was it the Chamber of Secrets?"
Dobby imdiately nodded vigorously, his large ears flapping against his cheeks.
"That's over. Professor Greengrass already dealt with the monster in the Chamber of Secrets."
"But the one behind it… the instigator… he's still there!" Dobby's voice was as thin as a mosquito's buzz, thick with fear. "He's just… just temporarily hidden…"
"Dobby," Harry's heart sank, and he leaned forward. "What do you know? You know who the mastermind is, don't you?"
"Dobby cannot say! Dobby… Dobby shouldn't even have sneaked into Hogwarts!" The house-elf cried, clawing at his large, bat-like ears with both hands. "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! House-elves… house-elves cannot speak ill of their masters…"
"Stop! Dobby, stop it!" Harry quickly reached out, trying to pull his hands away, lowering his voice urgently. "Why are you doing this?"
"Dobby must punish himself…" The house-elf sobbed, his body shaking violently. "House-elves… cannot speak ill of their masters…"
"But you haven't spoken ill of anyone."
"Not even thinking it is allowed!" Dobby let out a sharp whimper, "Even the thought is a sin! Dobby is a bad—"
Before he finished speaking, Dobby raised his bony hand again, and with a loud Slap! Slap! he slapped himself hard across the face, the crisp, loud sound echoing in the silent dormitory like a whip cracking the air.
On the bed next to him, Ron grumbled irritably in his sleep, shifting uncomfortably.
"Dobby must go!" The House-elf looked at Ron's bed in alarm, then turned to Harry, his tennis-ball-sized eyes filled with unsaid warnings, "Harry Potter…you must be very careful! The eyes of the mastermind… have never left… Dobby… Dobby must go!"
As the last word fell, Dobby's small, thin figure seed to be swallowed by the darkness, vanishing instantly from Harry's bedside.
Ron smacked his lips, rolled over, and his heavy snores resud.
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