That evening, I slipped down to the dungeons, for work obviously.
Dobby met me there, darting nervously from shadow to shadow.
His eyes were wide and hopeful in the torchlight.
"Harry Potter, sir, is sure this will work?"
"Positive," I said, kneeling to check the runes etched along the floor to block scans of council,
faint blue lines that shimmered under my hand.
"It's not a spell that frees you. It's one that severs the magical tether linking you to the Malfoys. Quietly. Permanently."
Dobby's hands shook. "But the bond— it is old magic, sir! House-elf magic is… deep."
"I know."
That's why I'd been studying alchemy and rune based transmutation under Dumbledore all term.
That's why I'd burned through half the restricted section looking for solutions.
This wasn't about rebellion.
It was about justice and timing.
The Ministry was already watching Dumbledore.
If the Malfoys suddenly lost their elf, it would look like Hogwarts was interfering in "pureblood family matters."
Exactly the sort of thing Fudge could use to corner the Headmaster.
Which meant the spell had to be perfect, silent, untraceable, and impossible to connect to me.
-----------------------------------------
Back in the Room, Ron and Hermione had started noticing how tired I looked.
"You're up to something," Hermione said finally, setting her book down.
"Always," I said, half smiling.
"You could at least tell us what it is this time."
"When you can block my mind reading," I said, "I'll tell you everything."
She huffed, but kept at her Occlumency drills.
Ron was improving faster, mostly because he hated losing to her.
As they practiced, I wove a few simple illusions into the room's walls faint layers of shielding charm, one over another.
Nothing fancy, just enough to block any magical eavesdropping from outside.
Because if the Council did decide to scan the castle deeper, this room would be their blind spot.
It was my safe zone.
Our safe zone.
And maybe, if things went right, the key to freeing Dobby unnoticed.
-----------------------------------------
By the end of the week, the Council's reports were clear:
"No signs of forbidden or experimental magic within Hogwarts walls."
"All readings inconclusive."
They were baffled.
Dumbledore was amused.
But behind the calm, something else was stirring, the first whisper of discontent from within the Council itself.
Someone among them was starting to doubt the official story.
Someone sharp enough to realize that not finding anything can sometimes be the loudest alarm of all.
And as I watched from the shadows of the library balcony that night.
Dobby waiting in the dark below with the last rune stone in his hands,
I couldn't shake the feeling that our game was only beginning.
-----------------------------------------
(Harry's POV)
For all the Council's noise, Hogwarts didn't really change much.
Classes went on. Peeves still terrorized first years.
The twins tried to sell "anti-Council stink pellets" to anyone brave enough to prank an investigator.
Life, somehow, found a rhythm again.
Only the grown ups looked worried, Dumbledore, McGonagall, even Snape, though he hid it better than most.
You could feel the tension in the way they watched the grey-cloaked inspectors pass by, whispering Latin like it was perfume.
But for me? It was a kind of background static.
I had bigger projects.
-----------------------------------------
It was the night of the equinox, perfect symmetry for what I was about to do.
The Room of Requirement had reshaped itself into a dimly glowing chamber, runes crawling like veins along the walls.
Dobby stood in the center, trembling slightly, his ears drooping.
"Harry Potter, sir… Dobby is ready."
I nodded, placing the rune stones in a circle around him.
Rituals was a slow art. You couldn't rush it, couldn't bully it.
You had to listen.
So I did.
Every flicker of his magic, every ripple of his binding, I traced and rewove.
It wasn't elegant the Malfoys' bond was a snarl of old blood magic, twisted through centuries but I'd studied worse.
Dumbledore's alchemy sessions had given me the foundation, law of Equivalent exchange,
the rest was… me. Yes I fed my magic to free Dobby.
The ritual required personal magic, not ambient, that why I cannot link ley lines to the ritual.
Good news is, I am an infinite magic battery.
Ten minutes later, the bond snapped.
Softly. Cleanly. Like a breath leaving a body.
Dobby froze eyes wide, like he couldn't believe the weight that had left him.
Then he started sobbing.
"Free, sir… truly free!" he whispered.
"Yeah," I said, smiling. "Welcome to unemployment. Don't spend it all in one place."
He laughed through his tears.
And in that moment, with the runes dimming around us,
I realized I'd done something the Ministry would call "illegal Rituals of sentient magical life."
But it wasn't.
It was right.
-----------------------------------------
That night, I made sure Dobby was hidden, under a glamour charm, working among the Hogwarts kitchens.
Officially, he was "a transfer from elf reserves."
Malfoy must be know by now that his slave his gone.
Not that he cared for dobby anyway.
He'd slipped his collar, slipped his name, and for the first time, wasn't in the control of the Malfoys.
I'd call that a win.
But the Council wasn't done.
They wanted to end the investigation formally, and for that, they needed one last inspection of the wards.
Which meant they came close, too close.
I could feel their scrying spells brushing against my counter charms like circus fingers.
Every time they probed, I reshaped the magic on instinct, bending the flow, creating echo signatures, sending them in circles.
I was careful. Perfect.
But perfection has a sound, a silence too smooth to be natural.
-----------------------------------------
The Great Hall felt like a courtroom by the end of the day, and Lucius Malfoy looked like a man whose entire empire had just cracked down the middle.
I watched from my seat among the students as the Serpent Council investigators stood before the Ministry panel, folders thick with reports and rune-readings.
Their leader, a silver-haired witch with the kind of voice that could cut marble, cleared her throat.
"After extensive analysis of Hogwarts' wards, faculty spell records, and ambient magical readings,
the Council has found no evidence of deliberate tampering, dark experimentation, or illegal magical constructs within the castle grounds."
Her words echoed like hammer blows.
A few students actually clapped.
Lucius froze. His jaw twitched, but the polished smirk didn't quite return.
"However," she continued, "we did find unusual spatial fluctuations, old ones, likely residual from the castle's age and magical evolution.
Hogwarts, as you know, predates modern stabilizing protocols by several centuries."
Translation: It's a miracle this place hasn't exploded already.
Ron leaned toward me. "So basically, the castle farts magic sometimes."
I snorted. "Elegant summary, mate."
At the High Table, Dumbledore folded his hands and smiled with the serenity of a man who already knew the ending.
Lucius, however, looked like he'd just bitten through a lemon laced with arsenic.
"Surely," he said tightly, "you must agree that certain—anomalies— deserve further oversight."
The Council head turned, voice icy.
"Lord Malfoy, you personally petitioned this investigation under claims of a contained dark artifact influencing Hogwarts' wards."
Her tone sharpened with every word.
"We found no such object. No trace of any residual curse. And no evidence of Headmaster Dumbledore's negligence. The Council does not appreciate being summoned under false pretenses."
A ripple of murmurs swept the hall. Even Umbridge looked caught off-guard.
Lucius' knuckles whitened on his cane.
"I assure you—"
"Enough," she said simply. "This matter is closed."
She turned on her heel, cloak sweeping behind her, the other Council members following.
The sigil on her shoulder, the silver serpent coiled around an hourglass, glimmered once, then vanished as they stepped through the floo.
Gone.
Just like that.
And Lucius Malfoy was left standing in front of the entire Great Hall silent, pale, his plan disintegrating like parchment in flame.
Dumbledore rose. His voice, calm and kind as ever, carried across the hall.
"Thank you, Lord Malfoy, for your… concern. But as you see, Hogwarts remains quite capable of managing itself."
Polite applause.
Laughter, too. Soft, sharp, everywhere.
Lucius' gaze swept the students, and when his eyes met mine, just for a heartbeat, I saw it.
The mask cracked.
Not hatred.
Something colder.
Recognition.
He didn't know what I'd done, but he knew I'd done something.
And for a Malfoy, humiliation demands repayment.
He turned on his heel and stalked out, robes flaring like fury given form.
Umbridge and Fudge scurried after him, whispering, gesturing, damage control in motion.
Dumbledore just sighed, adjusting his half-moon spectacles.
"Mr. Potter," he murmured quietly as I passed him on the way out, "I trust you'll keep a low profile for at least one week."
I smiled. "Can't make promises I can't keep, sir."
-----------------------------------------
Hogwarts had a strange rhythm after chaos, like the castle itself exhaled and pretended nothing had happened.
The Serpent Council packed up two days ago, all pomp and paranoia, after finding exactly nothing.
Dumbledore, of course, was gracious as ever. Lucius Malfoy, not so much.
Word spread like fire, that the Council had scolded him in front of everyone for wasting Ministry time.
Fred and George even made a badge that flashed "Proud Survivor of Malfoy's Meltdown." They were selling fast.
I might have bought one.
For science. Trust.
Breakfast that morning was suspiciously calm.
Ron was halfway through a mountain of bacon, Hermione buried in her Transfiguration notes.
"So," Ron said through a mouthful, "Lucius Malfoy—Ministry embarrassment of the month?"
"Of the year," I said. "Probably put a curse on his own reflection afterward."
Hermione tried to hide her laugh behind a sip of pumpkin juice. "You two never stop."
"Accurate," I replied.
Truthfully, I was… lighter.
Like a knot inside me had finally loosened.
Dobby was free, really free, and bound to me only by his own will.
I was worried how will I get the chance to free him, chamber isn't revealed like canon.
turns out it wasn't that strong bond, If dobby wasn't willing or their bond was close, ritual wouldn't work.
But the ritual had worked perfectly; it had felt right, like restoring something that should've never been broken.
No one else knew. And that was how it had to stay.
-----------------------------------------
A week later, I was back in Dumbledore's office, sitting opposite him as Fawkes preened quietly in the corner.
"I must say," Dumbledore began, "your progress is… unnerving."
"Thanks?"
He smiled that unreadable smile. "You've mastered Runic Reinforcement, completed Arithmantic Optimization, and if I'm not mistaken, improved upon my own Alchemical filter equations."
"Only a little," I said, trying not to sound smug. "Your equations leaked mana during high compression. I patched them."
He chuckled softly. "And I suppose you discovered that by accident?"
"Sort of. I blew up a teapot."
"Ah, the mark of all great discoveries."
We spent the rest of the lesson on Soul Symmetry Theory, how magic flowed differently through intent, emotion, and form.
Dumbledore's tone shifted halfway through; not lecture-like, more… personal.
He didn't say anything.
But there was something in his gaze, worry, pride, maybe both.
-----------------------------------------
Evenings were for Room of Requirement, though at this point it might as well have been "Room of Regular Grind."
Ron and Hermione had grown strong. Not just physically,
magically too.
repetition, resistance, rhythm. This was their motto by now.
Hermione's wandless control was terrifying now; she could maintain three levitating objects while lecturing Ron on rune logic.
Ron, for his part, was getting scary good at defensive casting, his shields came fast, instinctive, solid as stone.
I didn't tell them how proud I was.
But I think they knew.
Hermione sometimes stared at me when she thought I wasn't looking, not fear or awe, just… curiosity.
Like she was trying to solve me.
Ron just grinned and said, "You're still a git, mate," which I took as affection.
They knew about the teleportation spell now. Not the details only that it existed.
I told them after the Council's team left, and they promised not to ask more until their Occlumency shields could resist me.
Fair deal. I could feel them getting closer to my level.
-----------------------------------------
Classes went back to normal or as normal as Hogwarts got.
Lockhart was still incompetent, Snape was still moody, and Binns was still somehow both undead and boring.
Fred and George launched a new prototype called "Portable Swamp – Beta Edition." Filch was still screaming about it three days later.
And in between all that, I actually laughed.
It felt good.
-----------------------------------------
(Harry's POV)
By may, the castle smelled like exams and anxiety.
Hermione had turned into a walking textbook, Ron was bargaining with higher powers for passing grades,
and I… well, I decided to start a band.
It wasn't a grand revelation or anything.
We were sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Lockhart had once again "forgotten" to teach anything remotely useful and was now posing for a self-portrait, when I looked around the room and said,
"You know what we need? A distraction."
Ron blinked. "From what?"
"From him, and some stress relief before exams," I said, nodding toward Lockhart, who was asking if his painted self should have shinier teeth.
That was all it took. Ron grinned. "How, making a group?, like… a Quidditch team?"
"No," I said. "Something less painful. Music."
Hermione looked up from her notes. "Harry, you can't just decide to start a band."
"I just did."
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Yep a band, nice idea right...or not.
lets see how the next chater will be recived.
see ya!!
-Nine11P2