A Hogwarts Legend: Round Two [2]

Chapter Thirty Three

But Dobby shouts, "You shall not harm Emily Swift!"

There's a loud bang, and Mr Malfoy is thrown backwards. He crashes down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He gets up, his face livid, and pulls out his wand, but Dobby raises a long, threatening finger.

"You shall go now," he says fiercely, pointing down at Mr Malfoy. You shall not touch Emily Swift or Harry Potter. You shall go now."

Lucius Malfoy has no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the three of us, he swings his cloak around him and hurries out of sight.

"SERVED!" I yell, "WITH A SIDE OF SALAD!"

"Emily and Harry freed Dobby!" says the elf shrilly, gazing up at us, moonlight from the nearest window reflects in his orb-like eyes. "You set Dobby free!"

"Least we could do, Dobby," I say, grinning. "Just promise never to try and save our lives again."

The elf's ugly brown face splits suddenly into a wide, toothy smile.

"I've just got one question, Dobby," says Harry, as Dobby pulls on my sock with shaking hands. "You told me all this had nothing to do with He Who Must Not Be Names, remember? Well -"

"It was a clue, sir," says Dobby, his eyes widening, as though this is obvious. "Dobby was giving you a clue. The Dark Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?"

"Right," says Harry weakly. "Well, I'd better go. There a feast, and our friends should be awake by now ..."

Dobby throws his arms around Harry's middle and hugs him. Then he hugs me.

"Harry Potter is greater by far than Dobby knew!" he sobs. "Farewell, Emily Swift, Harry Potter!"

And with a final loud crack, Dobby disappears.

*

I've been to several Hogwarts feast, but never one quite like this. Everybody is in their pyjamas, and the celebrations last all night. I don't know whether the best bit is Hermione running towards us, screaming, "You solved it! You solved it!" or my epic hug with Elinor and Maya (We banged our heads together. -_-) or Justin hurrying over from the Hufflepuff table to wring to my hand and apologise endlessly to Harry and I for suspecting us, or Hagrid turning up at half past three, cuffing Harry, Ron and I so hard on the shoulders that we're knocked into our plates of trifle, or mine, Harry and Ron's six hundred points securing Gryffindor the House Cup for the second year running, or Professor McGonagall standing up to tell us all that the exams have been cancelled as a school treat ("Oh, no!" says Hermione), or Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needs to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teacher join in the cheering that greets this news.

"Shame," says Ron, helping himself to a jam doughnut. "He was starting to grow on me."

*

The rest of the summer term passes in a haze of blazing sunshine, with it my birthday. Hogwarts is back to normal, with only a few, small differences: Defence Against the Dark Arts classes are cancelled ("but we've had plenty of practise at that anyway," Ron tells a disgruntled Hermione) and Lucius Malfoy has been sacked as a school governor. Draco is no longer strutting around the school as though he owns the place. On the contrary, he looks resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley is perfectly happy again.

Too soon, it's time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, Maya, Elinor and I get a compartment to ourselves. We make the most of the last few hours in which we're allowed to do magic before the holidays. We play Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George's Filibuster Fireworks, and practise disarming each other by magic.