"Why do you suspect the Fawleys' house-elf?" Lockhart asked.
Severus brushed the dust from his hands and spoke.
"At the very least, before the Fawleys were killed, their house-elf was fully aware of everything that happened in the house."
"And after the incident, it left the Fawley household in a very unusual manner. Putting aside that Meilia was still there, even if the house were truly empty, would a house-elf really leave the place it was meant to serve for life?"
As he asked this, Severus glanced at Sirius, clearly indicating the Black Family had a prime example.
During the time Sirius was imprisoned in Azkaban, the Black Family was effectively extinct, with no remaining heir. Yet Kreacher remained loyally guarding the house, never leaving.
This wasn't loyalty unique to Kreacher alone… it was an instinct shared by all house-elves.
But now, the Fawleys' house-elf left despite having a master to serve. Combined with the Disapparation without traces earlier, it easily led Severus to suspect it!
"But even if we guess who is obstructing us, what can we do?" Sirius couldn't help but ask. "If a house-elf truly wants to hide, we'll never find it."
Lockhart's mind was clearly more agile.
"If it's the Fawleys' house-elf, perhaps we can go back to Meilia and have her call its name!"
This was indeed a simple and effective method, but Severus quickly shook his head.
"If Meilia still remembered the house-elf's name, and if the house-elf hadn't been freed from the Fawleys, then that would work. But it definitely won't work now. Meilia has been with Muriel for so long. That house-elf must have been freed… either by someone else authorized by the Fawleys or perhaps given a sock by Meilia herself."
"So, what should we do now?" Sirius asked. "Whatever was in this bathroom has been destroyed by whoever is following us. If we want to continue finding clues, we have to catch the person behind this first!"
Severus didn't answer immediately. He gave one last look around the thoroughly destroyed bathroom before speaking softly.
"The perpetrator, likely a house-elf, destroyed this place only knowing that what we're looking for is hidden here, but not the exact location. Moreover, its escape was rushed… otherwise, we wouldn't have heard that final Disapparation sound."
"What does that tell us?"
"It means the perpetrator also can't be one hundred percent certain it has truly destroyed what it wanted to destroy!" Severus stated confidently. "This leaves us significant room to operate, a chance to lure out the person hiding behind this."
Sirius and Lockhart exchanged glances. Their eyes also grew eager. Severus's deduction reignited their enthusiasm to continue investigating.
"What do we do next?"
Severus tapped a piece of burnt table leg beside him with his wand. The next moment, the charcoal transformed into a package wrapped in oiled paper.
"It's simple. Haven't we already found what we were looking for?"
On a small hill not far from Jeremy's house where Severus and the others were, an elderly house-elf with a missing tip on its right pointed ear held a worn, old-fashioned telescope, staring nervously at Jeremy's house.
The telescope's view was poor… it could only vaguely see figures moving about inside.
"No... can't... can't let them find it... for the young mistress... for the young mistress..."
It kept muttering to itself, voice trembling, words incomplete. Until suddenly, at a certain moment, its small, withered body froze completely, as if hit by a Petrification Spell, not moving an inch!
Its large eyes reflected the scene seen through the telescope.
The group of wizards inside Jeremy's house finally emerged. Their expressions were grave yet carried a hint of relief. Among them, the tall wizard with black hair tied back, wearing dark robes, seemed to be holding something close to his chest.
"Impossible!!"
The house-elf suddenly shrieked.
It jumped up as if its feet were on fire.
"Lucas cannot allow it! Must never allow this to happen! Must stop them! Stop them from harming the young mistress!!"
It pulled on its large ears, repeatedly banging its head against a rock in front of it.
"Lucas failed the young master! Lucas failed him! Lucas promised him!!"
Only after injuring itself until its head was bloody did the house-elf stagger back to its feet. Its gaze turned fierce, as if having resolved to do something. Then, with the characteristic 'pop' of Disapparation, it vanished from the spot.