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"What's it about this time?" Anthony whispered. Exchanging a glance with Professor Sprout, he followed Professor McGonagall through the crowd of students, hurrying toward the center of the chaos.
Amid the chatter and exclamations, Anthony could still hear shouts like "Petrificus Totalus," "Tarantallegra," "Rictusempra," and "Densaugeo." But there were too many onlookers, and the gaps between the Quidditch stands were narrow, forcing them to repeatedly ask students to make way.
"Where's Madam Hooch?" Anthony asked.
Professor Sprout replied, "I saw her heading back with the ball box."
Anthony sighed. "Well, I miss her whistle."
He glanced around again and spotted Hagrid from afar, squeezing between two groups of people. Hagrid pulled a tall Slytherin boy away from Seamus and stopped several furious Gryffindors. With Hagrid there, Anthony felt a bit more at ease.
…
Malfoy cast a Stinging Hex, which happened to hit Hagrid's arm. Hagrid scratched his arm and turned around.
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"That's not a spell a lad your age should be learnin', you little rascal," he growled, effortlessly lifting Malfoy off the ground and pushing him out of the crowd. Then he bent down and asked with concern, "Are you all right?"
"We're fine," Harry gasped. One side of his glasses was shattered, and the earpiece hung crookedly from his ear. However, his opponents didn't seem to have fared much better—the Slytherin Beater, Bole, was dancing uncontrollably while furiously trying to hit anyone within reach. Hermione had used a Jinx that caused several Slytherins to retch and sniffle uncontrollably.
Malfoy suddenly let out a short, sharp cry. The Weasley twins had sneaked up beside him, clearly intending to give him a good thrashing.
"Locomotor Mortis!" Malfoy shouted, pointing at one of them, but the other dodged the spell nimbly and raised his wand with a grin.
"Want to dock me five points, Malfoy?" one of the twins taunted. "Because I didn't let you hit me?"
"You know, we've always thought you needed a lesson," the other said. "Furnunculus!"
Malfoy scrambled over the seats and hid behind them. The spell struck the back of the seat with a loud thud, and Malfoy shouted in a flustered voice, "Dobby! Dobby!"
With a sharp crack, a skinny house-elf dressed in an old pillowcase appeared on the Quidditch stands. He raised a finger, and the spells from the twins dissipated as if hitting an invisible wall. Then, lowering his finger, he looked around at the chaotic scene with tennis-ball-sized green eyes and bowed deeply to Malfoy. "What does Master Draco want Dobby to do?"
"You fool, didn't Father order you to protect me?" Malfoy snapped angrily. "Protect me! Do you want to taste the whip again?"
Dobby trembled. "Dobby must protect Master Draco…"
"Exactly, protect me!" Malfoy commanded. Then, as if suddenly realizing the house-elf's abilities, he added, "Not just that—I want you to attack them! Those two Weasleys—and Potter and his gang!"
Dobby's eyes widened. "Dobby—"
"Like last time, with a Bludger or whatever! Take them down!"
"Yes, Master Draco—yes," Dobby squeaked, leaping onto the stands. The surrounding students watching the spectacle backed away slightly. Spells were still flying everywhere, but thanks to Hagrid's intervention, fewer students were being hit.
Dobby pointed a bony finger, and several people were instantly separated. Then, an ink bottle and several notebooks flew out of Hermione's bag, pelting Harry from all directions.
Ron desperately pressed down on the bag's opening, trying to keep the remaining items from flying out. "What's going on? Ouch!" He was struck hard by the corner of Hogwarts, A History and fell to the ground. "I thought you'd finished reading this ages ago, Hermione!"
"Dobby!" Harry said angrily.
"Harry Potter!" Dobby shrieked. "Dobby is very, very sorry, but Harry Potter must go home!"
Hagrid pulled Harry into his embrace, swatting at the flying objects like they were flies, but he couldn't catch a single book. More books and quills flew out, attacking Harry through the gaps. Harry twisted free from Hagrid's arm and sprinted away from the crowd, followed by a long trail of miscellaneous items: textbooks, essays, quills, a telescope, a water cup, a hat, small flags ("Hufflepuff for the win!"), and so on. The ink bottle hit Hagrid's hand and was smashed to the ground.
A seventh-year Gryffindor raised his wand. "Let me try—Incendio! Oops, sorry—" Neville's hair caught fire. "Aguamenti!"
"Kreacher!" Harry shouted as he vaulted over a seat. "Kreacher, help!"
With another crack, another house-elf appeared on the Quidditch stands.
"Master told Kreacher to follow the boy Potter and obey the boy Potter… The boy Potter is just like the ungrateful master, spending all his time with riffraff and befriending scum and filthy Mudbloods. What would the mistress think if she knew…"
Quills shot toward Harry like arrows. He rolled on the ground, dodging them.
"You have a house-elf too!" Ron said in surprise.
"Harry, you promised!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Forget your mistress!" Harry shouted. "Make Dobby stop!"
"The rude little brat wants Kreacher to defy his mistress's grandson, the pure-blooded young master of the Malfoy family…" Kreacher muttered reluctantly, bowing to Harry. "Fine, fine, Kreacher must obey the boy's command…"
He glanced with bloodshot eyes at the objects chasing Harry—Harry ducked just in time as a twenty-inch-long essay whizzed over his head; Hermione must have spent ages writing it—and then turned indifferently to Dobby, who was perched higher up, and barked, "Stop!"
"No, no, Dobby won't stop!" Dobby squealed. "Harry Potter must not stay at school!"
More objects flew into the air—and then a rope suddenly appeared, wrapping tightly around all the items that shouldn't have been airborne and yanking them to the ground with a loud thud. They struggled like fish caught in a net, clattering against the ground.
"Finite Incantatem!" Professor McGonagall shouted sternly, flying over on a broomstick. "Impedimenta! Everyone, stop!"
It turned out she had conjured the rope. Bole finally stopped dancing, and Dean no longer struggled to walk after being hit with a Leg-Locker Curse. Water droplets still dripped from Neville's singed hair and forehead. The moment Professor McGonagall appeared, Dobby lowered his arms, his eyes wide with panic.
Professor McGonagall jumped off her broomstick and scanned the students before her sternly. Several students were sneakily tucking their wands back into their pockets, as if that would hide the dust and sweat covering their arms and faces.
"Can anyone tell me what happened?" she asked coldly. "Do me a favor? Mr. Potter? Mr. Malfoy?" Her gaze swept over Dobby and Kreacher, and her lips tightened further.
No one spoke. Kreacher glanced gloomily at Professor McGonagall and then at Harry before Disapparating without a word, leaving only the crack of Apparition to break the silence. Dobby followed suit at Malfoy's impatient gesture.
"Two house-elves," Professor McGonagall said, her nostrils flaring. "House-elves not belonging to Hogwarts, helping you fight."
"Professor McGonagall, I was attacked," Malfoy said quickly. "The school agreed that if I needed protection, I could summon the Malfoy family's house-elf—"
"I was attacked too!" Harry said. "Sirius told Kreacher to follow me precisely to prevent this kind of thing!"
"So you had house-elves attack your fellow students!" Professor McGonagall said angrily, gesturing toward Neville's pitiful state. "In the past ten years, I've never seen anything more shameless! Using house-elves to bully your classmates!"
Malfoy glanced at Neville's damp hair, his face contorting as he tried to stifle a laugh.
Neville flushed red, mustered his courage, and said tremulously, "Professor McGonagall… it wasn't because of the house-elves…" The seventh-year Gryffindor beside him looked thoroughly ashamed.
Malfoy couldn't hold back any longer and let out a hissing, sputtering laugh. Even a few Gryffindors smiled, though they quickly composed themselves upon seeing Professor McGonagall's expression.
Anthony and Professor Sprout finally emerged from the crowd. Anthony walked over to Hagrid. "What happened?"
"A fight," Hagrid said matter-of-factly. "Could've been over anything. But the Malfoy family's house-elf showed up again."
Anthony was startled. "Dobby?"
"Yeah," Hagrid said.
He lowered his voice and recounted the events to Anthony. Professor Sprout joined them halfway through, offering a few comments about the two house-elves.
By the time they finished, Professor McGonagall had already dealt with the fighting students, deciding who should visit Madam Pomfrey, who needed detention with Filch, and who required both. The students gradually dispersed, discussing the chaos and the Quidditch match.
"Maybe it'll grow back by tomorrow," Harry comforted Neville. "Once, my aunt cut off almost all my hair, but it grew back the next day."
Neville said dejectedly, "I don't think I have that kind of magic."
Hermione was slamming her books into her bag one by one with heavy thuds.
"Don't worry about what Madam Pince will say," Ron told her. "It's not like she can actually do anything to you."
"I'm not—because of—Madam Pince—" Hermione said stiffly, zipping her bag shut with a sharp sound.
Ron said, "Well, don't worry about your essays either. You can rewrite them in less than a day."
"It's not that either," Hermione snapped. "Harry, didn't you say you wouldn't take part in such shameless enslavement?"
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