"I... I can't beat him."
Wormtail, clutching his teacup, stammered, "When we were at school, Remus and the others always dragged me into dueling practice, and even after graduation when we joined the Order of the Phoenix, they kept making me spar. I never won a single time."
"That was over a decade ago. If you dueled him face-to-face now, you would be the one with the advantage."
The young professor in the armchair spoke in a measured, calm voice. The warm steam of the Butterbeer obscured his face. "He's been locked up in Azkaban for thirteen years, thirteen years without casting a spell, tormented by Dementors until he's weak and thin. He went to all that trouble to escape and doesn't even have a wand. You are different. You have a wand and full strength."
Melvin paused slightly: "In fact, you shouldn't have startled the students and fled in panic tonight. You should have dealt with him right there in the dormitory."
"But..."
Wormtail hesitated, still unwilling to agree.
In truth, for the past thirteen years, he had been hiding at the Burrow, pretending to be a rat. He hadn't cast many spells either, his magical skills were rusty, and having been kept as a pet for so long, his body wasn't exactly strong.
After a long silence, he looked up and asked timidly, "Are there any other ways?"
"If you don't trust your own wand, then do what you did thirteen years ago: set that sly rat brain of yours to work," Melvin slowly coaxed. "Thirteen years ago, you managed to frame Black and use the might of the Ministry's Aurors to imprison him. Now, you can once again borrow the strength of others."
"Sir, are you suggesting I expose his Animagus disguise and have him arrested again?"
Wormtail considered this, then shook his head. "I can't reveal myself publicly, and... this might lead to the truth coming out."
The previous successful framing of Black worked because the times were chaotic, the Ministry's screening process was flawed, and Black himself was so devastated he had no mind to defend himself.
Now that Harry has become his emotional anchor, Black is very likely to appeal his case. If the truth about that night comes out, the face on the wanted posters will have to be changed.
"Then you need to find a reliable partner, such as... Snape."
Melvin said ominously, "You were classmates. You should know about that old grudge. Snape admired Lily and despises Black for leaking the secret. You also served the same master after graduation, so you know his nature: cruel and malicious. Use that hatred to manipulate him into killing Black, just as you manipulated the Aurors and the Wizengamot thirteen years ago."
"But... I... I..."
Wormtail looked up in terror, stammering and unable to form a complete sentence, his hands clutching the teacup trembling slightly.
"I know. Snape was once a Death Eater, and in the eyes of the outside world, Black is one too. You're worried he might help Black," Melvin said calmly. "But he is the most suitable candidate. For the rest, you will have to figure it out yourself."
"I... I understand."
Wormtail felt chilled to the bone, but he still agreed.
He was sitting in the Muggle Studies office right now, a Mark of the Serpent branded on his hand. The method the professor pointed out was genuinely feasible, if slightly risky. How could he possibly refuse?
---
The sky began to lighten.
Deep inside the Room of Requirement, a figure lay on a sofa, head tilted back. Weariness blanketed him like a tide. There was a warm fireplace and candles, but his eyes dared not close.
Knock! Knock!
Suddenly, there was a quick, light rap on the door.
"Who is it?"
Sirius shot upright, watching the door with caution.
Silence held for a few seconds outside, followed by a slightly high-pitched voice: "House-elf, Dobby, Mr. Levent sent me."
Sirius's mind conjured the image of the young professor. He had met him twice, and each time had been remarkably memorable. His eyes were wide with surprise. He had expected an Auror or perhaps Headmaster Dumbledore, not a House-elf.
The door swung open. A gust of cold air rushed into the room, making the lights flicker.
A House-elf entered, with long, thin limbs, grayish-green skin, a gray scarf wrapped around its neck and dangling down to its waist. It carried a meal container and wore no shoes over its woolen socks, presenting a bizarre appearance.
Its round, prominent eyes were bright with curiosity, staring at him.
Sirius was so scrutinized that he opened his mouth, unsure what to say.
"The professors' search is over, and the lockdown has been lifted, but Mr. Levent asks me to tell you that it's best to wait until after dark before you leave."
"No interrogation, no talking, and you're just letting me go?" Sirius found this hard to believe.
Dobby didn't notice his surprise, rambling out a string of words as he delivered the message: "You needn't worry about being found. Few people in the whole school know about this place, and even if they did, they could only enter other rooms. Also, the Room of Requirement has no food, so the Master brought you sandwiches and water. And if you need to use the toilet, there are all sorts of loos here; all you have to do is think of what kind of toilet you want, and it will appear."
The elf's shrill voice made his head ache, but Sirius still caught the key phrase: "The Room of Requirement! This is the Room of Requirement?"
"Yes, very few people know about it. Sometimes when cleaning the castle, we store tools here. Professor Trelawney sometimes uses it to pile up empty bottles; Professor Levent says she is 'avoiding reality'..."
Sirius's expression was lost in thought. A secret room that the Marauders hadn't even discovered when creating the Marauder's Map—how did an outside, young professor know about it?
He suddenly remembered his current predicament, staring at the little elf placing the meal container, and asked tentatively, "Do you know who I am?"
"Dobby knows. Professor Levent said you are Sirius Black, an escaped convict, a wanted man. Informing on you would fetch a big bag of Galleons." Dobby sighed regretfully at this point. "Alas, Dobby is not a wizard, so he cannot inform on you for the reward money."
The elf's look of regret was quite clear. Sirius felt a little spooked. "Why don't you hand me over to Dumbledore? Aren't you a Hogwarts House-elf?"
"Dobby is certainly an elf employed by Hogwarts, but Dobby is also a free-spirited elf. Mr. Dumbledore hired me to clean and cook, not to be in charge of castle security. That is not within my duties."
"Employed?"
Sirius felt his notions were being shattered. Thirteen years in prison—it seemed he was a little out of date. "Are you saying Dumbledore pays you a salary?"
"Of course! Otherwise, how could I afford my scarf and socks?" Dobby thought this man was a bit daft. He finished setting down the food and turned to leave.
"Wait!"
Sirius quickly called Dobby back. "Could I perhaps ask you for some information?"
"Why should I help you?"
"I'm willing to pay."
Sirius rummaged through his clothing and pulled out two copper Knuts, which he handed over. He'd found them in the sewers of Hogsmeade.
"Very well. For the sake of the Knuts," Dobby reluctantly agreed.
Seeing the elf's demeanor, Sirius felt less urgent about asking for outside news. After a long pause, he asked, "I'm curious, why... are you different from other House-elves?"
"The question should be why other elves cannot be like Dobby."
Dobby sighed softly and began to recount his journey of breaking free from the Malfoy family and pursuing freedom.
"Although I am employed by Hogwarts, working for Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, I occasionally do things for Mr. Levent and Mr. Potter. Dobby does this voluntarily...
"If Professor Levent hadn't said you bear no ill will toward the kind Harry, I would probably hand you over to Harry instead of doing business with you."
Sirius found this little elf, who was saving money to buy his freedom, very novel.
All the House-elves he'd known before were the type of Kreacher, from the Black family's old house. This elf was completely different. His mind hadn't been dominated by the concept of servitude, nor had he been pickled in pure-blood notions. He was bursting with vitality.
Though a bit greedy, his ultimate goal was to pay off his debt and gain freedom.
"What kind of person is that Professor Levent, anyway?" Sirius was even more curious about him and couldn't help but ask.
Dobby immediately looked guarded. "Although Dobby is no longer an ordinary House-elf, Mr. Levent is still my master in name. I would never betray him, and I certainly won't reveal his secrets to a wanted criminal like you."
That tone sounded very much like Kreacher. Sirius felt a headache coming on. "Well, tell me about Harry, then. That Professor Levent said I'm his godfather, and I mean him no harm."
Dobby gave him a look of disdain and scoffed, "I don't trust you!"
"..."
Sirius almost wanted to take back his previous thought. This elf's views were too lax; he completely lacked the proper respect for wizards.
"Dobby must go now. Farewell, runaway wizard."
Seeing the intelligent being he could communicate with turning to leave, Sirius quickly called out, "Wait, wait, I have more questions."
"Your Knuts were only enough for the questions you've already asked."
"..."
Sirius started rummaging again. Alas, a stray dog wasn't a beggar; he could only fish a few Knuts out of the sewer. No one offered him charity, and he hadn't returned to his old house or Gringotts. The last two Knuts he had were already gone.
In desperation, he shouted to Dobby, "Don't you want to know the true meaning of freedom?"
Dobby stopped as expected and turned to look at him.
"Paying off a debt for freedom is just your own guess. What Professor Levent told you is that you can only achieve true freedom when you understand its true essence."
Seeing the elf stay, Sirius quickly picked up his pace. "I once had a similar experience. I felt trapped by the rules and limitations of the pure-blood family and couldn't be free. Later, I understood that freedom is not something someone grants you, nor is it something you buy. It is earned, fought for, and something no one can ever take away."
Dobby's eyes showed confusion.
"That professor helped you get rid of the Malfoys. Without the bond of the contract, you actually haven't had a master since then. Professor Levent didn't shackle you; he just said you needed to repay a debt. Do you understand?"
Sirius looked at the tiny, skinny elf before him. "That professor just wants you to figure this out. No matter who you are employed by, it's just your job; it cannot enslave your will."
"So, Dobby is actually free already?" Dobby seemed dazed.
"Exactly!"
Sirius nodded heavily. "Working for pay, using that salary to repay a debt—that has nothing to do with freedom. No one is enslaving you. Once you understand that, you are free!"
Dobby's eyes widened, nearly bulging out.
"I want to employ you now, to help me with something."
Sirius painted a grand picture: "After it's done, I'll give you a huge reward, enough to pay off your debt and have plenty left over. Then you can travel everywhere and buy clothes for yourself—not just a scarf and socks, but a whole wardrobe!"
Dobby's eyes glittered.
---
It was a new week, and classes were back to normal.
The night's disturbance had kept the Gryffindor students up too late, leaving them all listless and drowsy. They took advantage of Professor Binns's History of Magic lecture to catch up on sleep, slumped over their desks.
Hermione was deeply offended by this behavior.
"Professor Binns is so old and still insists on teaching us; how can you sleep in his class?"
"Today he's talking about the Goblin Rebellions—it's key material! It'll be on the end-of-year exam, and the W.I.L.D. tests too!"
"..."
Hermione was still chattering her condemnation as they entered the Divination classroom in the North Tower. Harry and Ron ignored her completely. They hadn't slept enough and their brains felt foggy. This Divination class was the perfect time for another nap.
So, the two chose seats toward the back and middle:
"Stop it, Hermione. Look at your own dark circles; they're worse than ours."
"You two..."
Hermione sat beside them, planning to wake them up every few minutes during the lesson.
Her gaze swept across the classroom. In the room at the top of the North Tower, the doors and windows were shut tight, allowing only a dim light to filter in. Shawls were draped over the lamps, bathing the entire room in a soft, hazy red glow. Herbs had been added to the fireplace, supposedly to stimulate insight. The various burning scents mixed together; they were sharp at first, but one grew used to them.
"What are we studying this lesson?"
Lavender expressed anticipation. Because of the whole Binky the rabbit incident, many students were beginning to believe Professor Trelawney.
Hermione glanced at her silently, offering no retort.
Once the lesson began, Trelawney added more herbs to the fireplace. Smoke billowed up, and the sweet scent intensified. Listening to her ethereal, vaporous lecturing voice, Hermione felt the air in the room beginning to sting her eyes.
"I see... the thing you fear will return again..."
"He has already been here... hiding in the dark corners, plotting..."
The voice grew more and more faint, and the classroom grew darker. Hermione's eyes felt gritty, and she couldn't help but blink.
"Wake up, Hermione, wake up!"
Hermione opened her eyes and realized she had been slumped over her desk, a Divination textbook covering her head.
The professor had already finished the lesson and left, and the students were filing out. The doors and windows were opened for ventilation. Without the hazy red light and the stinging incense, the cold wind rushed into the North Tower classroom, instantly sobering her up.
Hermione sat up and looked around. Harry and Ron next to her were also just waking up, red marks from the book still on their faces. She touched her cheek, feeling a little embarrassed.
"Let's go. Next is Snape's Potions class," Harry said, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Hearing that professor's name, Ron also snapped awake. He picked up his bookbag, putting his books away, then froze in his seat, a look of profound sorrow on his face.
Hermione saw the Chocolate Frog box in his bag, which contained Scabbers's body. It had been preserved with a Freezing Charm so it wouldn't decompose or smell.
She whispered, "Harry, is he planning to keep... keep Scabbers with him?"
Harry shook his head: "He's planning to have a funeral this weekend after the Quidditch match, bury Scabbers in the Forbidden Forest, invite Hagrid to attend, and also consult with Nearly Headless Nick about the proper funeral procedures."
"..."
Hermione felt a wave of sympathy, followed by a rush of relief.
It was a good thing Scabbers had been killed by Black, not by Crookshanks's claws, or she would have been an accomplice!