That night, even George and Fred—heroes of Gryffindor's Quidditch victory—couldn't join the celebration in the warmth of the common room. Instead, they dutifully reported to Douglas's office for detention.
At least, come nine o'clock sharp, Douglas ended their punishment on time.
The Gryffindors dashed from his office, sprinting back toward the common room, desperate to catch the last of the party.
Once the corridor was quiet, Douglas remained behind. He pulled out the Marauder's Map—yes, the diary was long gone, but he still hadn't returned the Map to George and Fred.
He scanned the map, locating Harry in the hospital wing, then slipped from his office, shrouded beneath a Disillusionment Charm.
The hospital wing was pitch-black. Douglas used a quick spell to find Harry's bed; the boy was fast asleep. Quiet as a shadow, Douglas crept to the opposite side, transfiguring a chair from a bedsheet and settling in. Under the Disillusionment Charm, he was utterly invisible.
Silence reigned—until the sharp crackle of flames broke the stillness.
The one he'd been waiting for had arrived.
Douglas, eyes now accustomed to the dark, watched as the house-elf Dobby slipped in, clutching something in his hands. Cautiously, Dobby dabbed at Harry's forehead, sniffling softly.
Douglas rolled his eyes in the darkness—anyone stumbling on this scene would get the wrong idea.
A moment later, Harry stirred, roused by Dobby's gentle touch.
"Dobby! What are you doing here?"
Dobby's voice was thick with sorrow. "Harry Potter has returned to school. Dobby warned him again and again… But sir, why didn't you listen? When you missed the train, why didn't you just go home?"
Harry blinked in surprise. "How did you know I missed the train?"
Suddenly, a jet of red light shot from the next bed, striking Dobby squarely. The elf toppled to the floor with a thud.
Ignoring the ache in his arm, Harry reached for his wand.
But a familiar voice drifted out of the darkness. "Because it was him. He's behind it all—including today's Bludger."
Harry muttered, "Lumos," and stared in shock as Douglas shimmered into view. "Professor Holmes? What are you doing here? What's going on?"
Douglas offered a faint smile. "One moment."
Under Harry's bewildered gaze, Douglas flicked his wand. Incarcerous! Ropes sprang forth, binding Dobby securely. The other end, he tied to his own wrist.
A crude precaution, but necessary—Douglas didn't fully understand house-elf magic, so he resorted to the simplest defense. If Dobby tried to Apparate, he'd have to take Douglas with him. Ending up at Malfoy Manor would be… enlightening.
Once everything was secure, Harry pressed, "Professor, what's happening? Do you know Dobby?"
Douglas dragged his conjured chair to Harry's bedside and cast a Silencing Charm over their small corner—no sense in disturbing Madam Pomfrey. The hospital wing was her domain; even Dumbledore himself wouldn't dare cause a fuss here. Douglas had spent plenty of time assisting with healing spells, and he knew the rules.
He shook his head, giving Harry a look of mock exasperation. "Honestly, Harry, your memory's worse than mine. Weren't you the one who told me about Dobby?"
He waved a hand dismissively. "But that's not the point. When the Bludger went haywire today, I suspected someone was trying to harm you. I found nothing at the pitch, but… well, criminals often return to the scene of the crime. Not that you'd know the saying, but never mind. I figured whoever it was would come check on you, so I stayed close by."
Harry glared at Dobby, anger flaring as he remembered his aching arm and the agony of regrowing bone. "Professor, are you saying he controlled the Bludger—and stole a piece of my bone?"
Douglas looked a little sheepish. Truth be told, he'd discreetly removed the bone fragment himself while slowing Harry's fall—he needed the injury to be just severe enough. After all, it had taken him more than twenty years to finally get involved in a canonical plotline, and he wasn't about to miss his chance. If Madam Pomfrey had healed Harry in a heartbeat, he'd never have gotten close to Dobby. Who knew when the next opportunity would come?
Catching the edge in Harry's voice, Douglas coughed. "Well… perhaps Dobby had his reasons. You said yourself he's always worried about your safety at school. Just now, while you slept, he was carefully wiping your forehead. Let's not dwell on the unpleasant bits. What matters is why he did it."
Harry considered this, then nodded.
Douglas snapped his fingers.
Dobby jolted awake, instantly realizing he was bound. Before he could even think of escape, Douglas warned, "If you try to Apparate, you'll take me straight to your master. And I doubt you want your master seeing you like this. Mr. Dobby!"
Wide-eyed, Dobby followed the rope to Douglas, trembling. "It's you—the Muggle Professor… You called me 'sir'—the Professor called me 'sir'—that's… that's…"
Douglas gave a cold chuckle. "I expect your master's words were more like 'Mudblood Professor,' weren't they?"
Dobby dared not speak, glancing nervously between Douglas and Harry Potter.
Harry lowered his voice. "Professor, do you know whose house-elf he is?"
But Douglas just said, "You can ask your questions now."
Sensing Douglas's disinterest in the topic, Harry wisely let it go. He focused on Dobby, his tone sharp. "Was it you at King's Cross? And the Bludger—was that you?"
Dobby's huge eyes overflowed with tears. With his hands bound, he couldn't wipe them away. "Harry Potter must go home! Too dangerous—Hogwarts will be in danger!"
Harry snapped, "Danger? So far, all my danger at school has come from you! If you'd just stay away, I'm sure Hogwarts would be perfectly safe!"
Dobby groaned, more tears soaking his tattered pillowcase and Douglas's conjured rope. "Harry Potter doesn't understand what he means to us—those humble, enslaved creatures of the wizarding world. Dobby remembers all too well what it was like when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power…"
At that, Douglas spoke up, startling Dobby from his misery. "Mr. Dobby, do you really have so little faith in the professors of Hogwarts? I can guess what you're about to say—the Chamber will be opened, yes?"
Dobby's eyes grew even wider, and a strand of snot slipped from his nose.
Harry looked from one to the other, curiosity piqued. "Dobby, is that true? Professor, what's the Chamber?"
Douglas shook his head. "You don't need to worry about that. The Chamber's entrance has already been sealed by the combined efforts of the professors, and the one who would have opened it—well, I've dealt with him. In other words, Dobby, your master's plan has been completely foiled. You don't need to worry about Harry's safety at Hogwarts."
He turned to Harry, his tone meaningful. "And if you've figured anything out, keep it to yourself. Don't forget—you only just finished that last essay, after all…"
Dobby was still frozen in terror, unable to move but clearly shaken. How did this man know so much? Did this count as betraying secrets? Should he punish himself?
"You… how do you know about master's conversations…"
Douglas shrugged. "That's not important. Mr. Dobby, I hope this is the last time you sneak into Hogwarts without permission. Of course, if you ever come with your master, you'll be welcome. For now, I'll leave you and Harry to talk. I know you're not a bad house-elf."
With that, Douglas released the spell binding Dobby.
The elf clambered dazedly to his feet. Harry looked at Douglas in confusion.
Douglas offered one final instruction. "Whatever you talk about tonight, keep anything best left unsaid to yourselves. Understood?"
Both nodded automatically.
As Douglas faded into the darkness, Dobby whispered, "That gentleman said he removed the danger and saved Harry?"
Harry nodded. "Yes. Professor Holmes is incredibly powerful. When Voldemort came to the school to cause trouble, the Professor was the one who defeated him."
Now, Harry never mentioned his old suspicion that Douglas might be possessed by Voldemort. After all, he doubted the Dark Lord would ever invent such creative academic punishments.
At the mention of Voldemort, Dobby began to tremble, his bat-like ears quivering. "No, no—it was Harry Potter who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter. Still, that gentleman is a good man—he called me Mr. Dobby… Just like Harry Potter—both of you are good people…"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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