Chapter Thirty Three

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Chapter Thirty Three - "SERVED! WITH A SIDE OF SALAD!"

"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr Malfoy?" says Harry.

Lucius Malfoy rounds on him.

"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" he says.

"Because you gave it to her," I say. "In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book, and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

I see Mr Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench.

"Prove it," he hisses.

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," says Dumbledore, smiling at me. "Not now Riddle had vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you ..."

Lucius Malfoy stands for a moment, and I distinctly see his right hand twitch as though he's longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turns to his house-elf.

"We're going, Dobby!"

He wrenches open the door, and as the elf comes hurrying up to him, he kicks him right through it. I can hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. I stand for a moment, thinking hard. Then it comes to me.

"Professor Dumbledore," I say hurriedly, "can u give that diary back to Mr Malfoy, please?"

"Certainly, Emily,"  says Dumbledore calmly. "But hurry. The feast, remember."

I grab the diary and dash out of the office, Harry close behind. I can hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, I take off one of my shoes, pull off my sock with has lemons on, and stuff the diary into it. Then I run down the dark corridor.

We catch up with them at the top of the stairs.

"Mr Malfoy," I gasp, skidding to a halt, "we've got something for you."

And I force the sock into Lucius Malfoy's hand.

"What the -?"

Malfoy rips the sock off the diary, throws it aside, then looks furiously from the ruined book to me.

"You've turned into blood traitor scum," he sneers at me. "I regret ever letting your family into my home."

"The feeling's mutual," I sneer back.

He turns to go.

"Come, Dobby. I said, Come!"

But Dobby doesn't move. He's holding my sock and looking at it as though it's a priceless treasure.

I mean, it is pretty cool.

"Master has given Dobby a sock,"  says the elf in wonderment. "Master gave it to Dobby!"

"What's that?" spits Mr Malfoy. "What did you say?"

"Dobby has got a sock," says Dobby in disbelief. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby - Dobby is free."

Citrus to the rescue!

Lucius Malfoy stands frozen, staring at the elf. Then he lunges at me.

"You've lost me my servant, girl!"

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