Hearing that, Ron let out a sigh of relief, after all, while he loved to break the rules, he'd rather die than go into the Slytherin common room and search for Draco Malfoy.
"How long will it take to make, anyway?" Harry suddenly asked, fearing that his friends might change their minds as Hermione, looking happier, opened the book again.
"Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days … I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients."
"A month?" Ron muttered. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!"
But Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, "But it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead, I say."
"She's right guys. This is in a way our best chance of getting some proper evidence that Malfoy is or isn't the heir and the one who is supposed to attack the muggle-borns." Thomas came to her defense before Ron could argue with her.
At the same time, Daphne, who for some reason furred her brows while looking at how close Thomas and Hermione were, decided to speak her mind out about their plan.
"Let's say the plan works and that you boys get inside. How in Merlin's name do you plan to ask Malfoy if he's the one responsible?"
Hearing Daphne's question, Harry, Adam, and Michael exchanged nervous glances. They knew that Daphne had a point. It was not going to be easy to get Malfoy to spill his secrets, especially if he was suspicious of their identities. Because of that reason alone, they had to come up with a clever way to trick him into revealing his true intentions.
Harry thought for a moment and then said, "Well, considering that we will turn into his minions, we could act like we're interested in his plans. We can ask him questions like, 'What are you going to do next?' or 'How did you find out about the Chamber of Secrets?' or 'Who else is in on it?'"
Adam nodded and added, "Yeah, and we can also try to flatter him and make him feel superior. We can say things like, 'You're so brave and smart, Malfoy' or 'You're the best thing that ever happened to Slytherin' or 'You're the only one who can open the Chamber of Secrets.'"
Michael on the other hand just shook his head in response. While both Harry and Adam were right to think that this was the thing they could do, the truth be told is that despite everything he had done, Malfoy was far from being a complete idiot.
The three boys hoped that their plan would work and that Malfoy would fall for their trap. "Well, it's worth a try, not that we have much of a choice."
However, while James and Thomas were checking that the coast was clear for them to leave the library, Ron muttered to Harry, "It'll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."
Harry scratched his head, not knowing what to say in response. He knew that Ron was only half-joking, but he also knew that knocking Malfoy off his broom was not a solution. He nodded slowly, hoping that Ron would drop the subject.
After the game things didn't become calmer for them, not even a little as the next night, Harry stumbled upon the little house-elf that almost got Ron into troubles. That night, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: His arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.
"Get off!" Harry said loudly, and then, "Dobby!"
The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.
"Harry Potter came back to school," The small, poor thing whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?"
Harry heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.
"What're you doing here? And how did you know I missed the train?"
Dobby's lip trembled and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicion.
"It was you!" Harry suddenly realized. "You stopped the barrier from letting us through!"
"Indeed yes, sir," Dobby responded in a low voice, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward" As he said that, Dobby showed Harry ten long, bandaged fingers. "But Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Harry Potter would get to school another way!"
He was rocking backward and forward, shaking his ugly head.
"Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir…"
Harry slumped back onto his pillows, shocked by what he had just heard.
"You nearly got Ron and me expelled. You'd better get lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you."
Dobby smiled weakly.
"Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."
He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself.
"Why d'you wear that thing, Dobby?" he asked curiously.
"This, sir?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. "'Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever."
Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make …"
"Your Bludger?" Harry shouted, anger rising once more. "What d'you mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me?"
"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" Dobby's large eyes seem to grew even larger in shock. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"
"Oh, is that all?" Harry snaped angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?"
"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the dark days would never end, sir… And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more … Not to mention that promised prince…"
Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby …"
"So, there is a Chamber of Secrets? And what promised Prince?" Harry whispered. "And did you say it's been opened before? Tell me, Dobby!"
Dobby shook his head frantically, clamping his hands over his mouth. He looked terrified of saying anything more about the Chamber of Secrets, as if he had already revealed too much. He whimpered and whispered, "Dobby can't, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" He glanced around nervously, as if expecting someone to burst into the room and punish him.
Harry felt his anger rising once more. He wanted to know more about the Chamber of Secrets, and what it had to do with the attack at Hogwarts and now who was this promised prince.
"Dobby, please, you've got to explain yourself. What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets? What is it? Who opened it? And who is the promised prince?"
Dobby's eyes widened in fear and the little creature seemed to struggle with himself, as if he wanted to tell Harry something, but was afraid of the consequences. After a few seconds of struggling, he opened his mouth, then closed it again. He opened it once more, then blurted out, "The mistress wants her prince to rule the magic beings, sir! She wants him to be the greatest of them all, sir! My master heard her says that the prince is the heir of the greatest … I don't remember sir! She says he will make the world pay, sir!"
Dobby gasped, realizing what he had just said. He looked horrified and ashamed and before Harry could react, Dobby grabbed a lamp from Harry's nightstand and smashed it over his head, sending sparks flying before he fell to the floor, groaning, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! Dobby spoke ill of the mistress and master! Dobby betrayed his masters!"
Upon seeing this, Harry tried his best to move his body and grab Dobby's hand. "But I'm not Muggle-born, how can I be in danger from the Chamber or this prince?"
"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen. Go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, 'tis too dangerous. Forget you friends, sir. Forget everything about Hogwarts and just go home."
"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"
"Dobby can't, sir, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf. "Go home, Harry Potter, go home!"
"I'm not going anywhere!" Harry answered fiercely. "Four of my friends are Muggle-born; they'll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened …"
"Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends and the pro…!" moaned Dobby in a kind of miserable ecstasy before stopping himself suddenly. "So noble! So valiant! But he must save himself, he must, Harry Potter must not stand beside the dark prince!"
Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Harry heard it, too. There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside.
"Dobby must go, sir! Remember, Harry Potter, never trust the promised prince!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. He slumped back into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the footsteps drew nearer.
The next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.
"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight as Harry lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, and then Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed.
"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs."
"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said Professor McGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."
Harry's stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, he raised himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.
It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.
"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think … If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate … who knows what might have …"
"I fear that this will not be the first student to be attacked and until we can find who is the culprit, I want all professor to be ready for anything, including a battle." Dumbledore finally said, not looking forward to this fight that will eventually come.
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