"Harry Potter- Ravenclaw"Chapter 166: The Fear That Voldemort Embodies
In the corridor, Snape strode briskly with Draco Malfoy hurrying to keep pace at his side.
Fresh from a Quidditch match, Draco was still flushed and breathless, forced into a half-jog despite Snape's deliberate slowing of his steps.
Snape shot him a stern look. "Did your father give you any special instructions?"
"Instructions? Professor Snape… I'm not sure what you mean…" Draco looked genuinely puzzled.
"Before term started, did he warn you about anything? For example… the Chamber."
"No… Father never mentioned any of that… Professor Snape, is it true the Chamber's been opened? Are those Mud—"
Snape stopped dead, his voice slicing through the corridor. "Draco Malfoy! Don't use that word. Take it as my advice."
The color drained from Draco's cheeks, leaving him pale as parchment.
He gulped for air, stammering, "I—I won't do it again, Professor Snape…"
Snape's tone returned to its familiar chill. "Think carefully… Are you certain your father said nothing? Did he ask you to befriend anyone, like last year?"
"He did," Draco admitted, nodding. "He told me… to get along with Wyzett. But for safety, he said I should only interact with him inside Hogwarts."
Snape frowned, his hand unconsciously pressing against his left forearm. "Only inside the castle?"
"Yes!" Draco replied. "Father also said… the best thing he ever did was to be friends with you. He's… very grateful to you…"
"Ha! Don't mimic his tricks." Snape's lips curled in a humorless smirk. "Let's keep moving. We're short on time."
Wyzett stepped forward, pressing his wand gently to Dobby's temple and closing his eyes in concentration.
Harry stared wide-eyed, completely lost. He turned to Dumbledore for help. "Headmaster, is that… the memory extraction spell?"
"Yes. If you're curious, you can look it up in the Restricted Section." Dumbledore nodded, a twinkle of encouragement in his eye.
"My memory's not as good as Wyzett's. I only recall the book's called The Mind Like a Moth Cocoon, but I can't remember the page."
Harry managed a weak smile. "The Restricted Section… isn't exactly easy to get into."
Dumbledore met his gaze, smiling knowingly. "Getting a professor's signature shouldn't be too hard for you, should it?"
"It's always good to learn more magic. Hermione is an excellent young witch—she'll help you. Do your best!"
"Yeah." Harry felt like he'd been seen right through, and nodded awkwardly. "I'll try, Headmaster."
...
For magical creatures like Dobby, emotions and thoughts tended to be simple and direct. Otherwise, he wouldn't have blocked the platform wall or sent a Bludger after Harry—all desperate attempts to save him from danger.
But their memories were chaotic, tangled like a nest of threads. Extracting anything useful required both skill and finesse.
Fortunately, Wyzett had experience with such memories. This time, he moved with practiced ease.
"To pry open memories, you need a 'fulcrum'… I don't know Dobby well, but he's terrified of me… So fear is my key."
"What else frightens him? He calls Harry the 'great savior'… Was he persecuted by Voldemort too?"
After a moment's thought, Wyzett made his decision—the avatar of fear would be Voldemort.
He pictured the monstrous, pale body Voldemort had taken after leaving Quirrell at the end of last year: grotesque, with a snake-like face…
As that serpentine visage flashed before his mind's eye, Wyzett caught a fleeting glimpse of a symbol—gone before he could grasp it.
With the fulcrum of fear, Dobby's chaotic memories suddenly clarified, ready for the spell.
"Memoria Exhaurire!"
Wyzett raised his wand, and a fine silver thread emerged.
"Is that a memory?" Harry asked breathlessly, eyes locked on the shimmering strand, unwilling to miss a single detail.
Dumbledore stroked his beard, satisfaction in his gaze. "Yes, that's a memory. Quite remarkable, isn't it? Don't forget to look up that book!"
...
"Hiss!"
A sharp intake of breath sounded from outside the headmaster's office.
Then Draco's voice: "Professor Snape, are you alright?"
Snape's tone was as icy as ever. "Go in."
"Wyzett, what are you doing here?" Draco entered the office, eyes widening at the sight of Wyzett—and the unconscious Dobby.
He circled the black bubble, peering at Dobby's contorted face in surprise. "It really is Dobby… What's he doing here?"
"That's for you to explain," Snape replied, following close behind and discreetly wiping sweat from his brow. "Otherwise, he'd rather bash himself to death than talk."
Wyzett nodded to Draco, bottled the extracted memory, then pointed his wand and incanted, "Rennervate!"
The Reviving Charm worked instantly. Dobby let out a piercing shriek: "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"
His eyes rolled back as if he meant to faint again, but the spell kept him stubbornly awake.
"Shut up, Dobby!" Draco barked, full of self-importance. "Tell me! Why are you at the school?"
"Dobby… Dobby's a bad house-elf!"
At Draco's words, Dobby opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue, as if he meant to bite it clean off.
With a flick of his fingers, Dumbledore conjured a block of wood, jamming it between Dobby's jaws.
He turned to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, what is the meaning of this?"
"It looks like… he acted on his own, without Father's orders," Draco said lightly. "So when I ask, he punishes himself."
"As a house-elf, if he can't even protect his master's interests, what good is he? That's why Father told him he must punish himself severely."
Hearing this, Harry's anger seemed to drain away, replaced by a flicker of pity for Dobby.
"Should we use Veritaserum?" Snape raised an eyebrow, but his gaze lingered on Harry, sending a chill down his spine.
Dumbledore waved a hand, rising and moving toward the cabinet where the Pensieve was kept. "Actually… Wyzett just extracted a memory. Perhaps we should—"
Suddenly, Wyzett's brow furrowed, and he barked urgently, "The giant serpent has appeared!"
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