Harry Potter: Master of Talismans

Daylight lay across the curtains when I woke, and Emma’s reply waited beside my breakfast. Pomfrey had received it during the night. Emma wanted to come immediately; she had underlined questions about my arm, my ribs and how a school managed to mislay a snake large enough to bite through either.

I wrote back as promised, describing the injuries properly and Pomfrey’s decision to keep me under observation. I asked Emma to arrange her visit with McGonagall instead of arriving unannounced at the gates. My reply went with the morning post, carrying considerably more information than I had tried to put in the first message.

Harry arrived after breakfast looking as though he had slept little better than I had. We spent a few minutes discussing what Ron might have written to Hagrid, then Dumbledore came in with a folder and a small closed case. He put the case on the table before drawing up a chair.

Ginny had given more of her account, he told us. She remembered finding the diary among the books brought home from the shop, but nobody handing it to her separately. Her parents were with her, and the questioning was proceeding as she could manage it.

‘Lucius wanted Voldemort back?’ I asked. Dumbledore opened the folder instead of giving an immediate answer.

‘Possibly. It is not the only reason someone might put a dangerous object in another person’s belongings.’ Harry objected that Lucius had known it could hurt her, and Dumbledore said he was discussing motive, not an excuse.

The folder contained a short list of dates and transactions. Most of the names meant nothing to me, but I recognised Borgin’s. There had been inspections of objects associated with the Dark Arts, Dumbledore explained, and Lucius had been removing possessions from his house. He was trying to establish which objects had gone where.

Ron had said the Malfoys were selling things because they were running out of money. Dumbledore called that a popular explanation unsupported by the evidence he had seen, then pointed to an intermediary connected with several investments in Muggle businesses.

I looked up from the name. ‘Malfoy?’ Harry leaned closer, trying to follow the entry with me.

‘Prejudice can be convenient when it costs nothing,’ Dumbledore said. ‘Less so when it interferes with income.’ He let us examine the entry, then closed the folder before a short list could begin looking like a complete account of the family’s affairs.

Their connections with Muggles were older than Lucius. Their own records celebrated an ancestor who came to England with William of Normandy and prospered through service to his court, Dumbledore said. Some later stories deserved more caution, particularly the Malfoy who supposedly courted Elizabeth the First, was rejected and claimed credit for her remaining unmarried.

I tried to fit that beside Draco’s speeches about blood. Dumbledore observed that some families would rather record a successful curse than admit a queen had shown no interest in one of them. It sounded like a remarkably elaborate way of losing an argument with a woman who was no longer available to contradict you.

Harry asked whether the family histories were all false. Dumbledore said some claims had supporting records, some had contradictions and some relied on documents which had conveniently disappeared. Replacing one absolute story with another would not help, and no accurate family tree would justify treating people as Lucius did.

The interesting part was not an embarrassing ancestor. It was the possibility of despising people in public while taking their money through an intermediary. I looked at the closed folder, then returned to the part which concerned Ginny.

‘If he wanted the diary out of his house, why give it to her instead of throwing it away?’ Dumbledore rested his hand on the papers before answering.

An attack connected with Arthur’s daughter could damage Arthur’s work, Dumbledore’s position and the school’s reputation. He suspected Lucius knew the diary could reopen the Chamber; he was less certain that Lucius understood what Riddle might become through it.

‘You don’t know that part,’ I said. Dumbledore agreed that we should not present a suspicion as if Lucius had confessed it. I remembered Riddle trying to make the entire evening belong to his plan, and was glad of the distinction.

I offered to help if Dumbledore found another object. He looked at my bandaged hand and told me to begin by keeping records, testing my preparations carefully and reporting anything I could not explain. He would not ask me to promise I was ready for every danger ahead; nobody could honestly make that promise.

Pomfrey called Harry to collect something for Ron. He left reluctantly, and Dumbledore had barely begun asking about the diary’s response to ordinary handling when Harry returned through the door.

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‘Lucius is here.’ He moved beside my bed as Malfoy entered with the same cane I remembered from the shop. A small figure followed at his heels, with thin limbs, enormous eyes and a ragged covering which looked more like a pillowcase than clothing.

Harry quietly said Dobby’s name. The elf looked at him, then at Lucius, twisting his fingers in the cloth at his waist. I had heard so much about him that seeing him there was disorientating: the barrier, the Bludger and the intercepted letters had all belonged to this frightened person following Malfoy into the ward.

Lucius addressed Dumbledore, saying he had heard the Headmaster had returned. Dumbledore confirmed it, and when Lucius asked about consulting the governors, he explained that he had spoken to them individually. Several had described threats against their families before signing the suspension.

The cane stopped turning in Lucius’s hands. He called it an extraordinary allegation, and Dumbledore said the governors would have an opportunity to give their accounts formally.

Dobby had begun rocking on his heels. Lucius glanced down and the movement stopped; then he returned to explaining that his concern had always been the school.

‘You’ll be relieved the attacks have stopped, then,’ I said. His gaze moved over my hospital shirt and bandage, and I looked towards the case on the table before asking Dumbledore whether we could show him its contents.

Dumbledore opened it himself. The punctured cover lay plainly visible inside, and Lucius’s eyes caught on it for less than a second before returning to the Headmaster.

‘What is that?’ he asked. Dumbledore identified the object used to control Ginny, a diary belonging to Tom Riddle, whom Lucius would know by another name.

I said Voldemort. Malfoy’s grip tightened until the silver handle pressed into his skin, but I could not tell whether he feared the name, the book or the possibility that we could connect him to it.

‘A terrible discovery,’ he said. Dumbledore agreed and told him the object and the witnesses’ accounts were being preserved. Any information Lucius could provide about its arrival among a child’s possessions would be welcome.

Lucius said he had no idea what Dumbledore meant. The Headmaster made the other matter equally clear: the governors’ decision to reinstate him did not end their inquiry into the threats they said Lucius had made.

Malfoy looked from him to Harry and then to me. The ward had become quiet enough for me to hear the movement of a chair farther down it. He announced that he would leave, and Dobby hurried to follow.

Lucius turned abruptly. The toe of his shoe struck the elf hard enough to send him against the doorframe, bringing Harry and Dumbledore to their feet at the same instant.

‘You will not strike anyone in this ward,’ Dumbledore said. Lucius looked back as though preparing to argue, then saw Pomfrey coming towards him and changed his grip on the cane.

He ordered Dobby to come. The elf scrambled upright and flinched from Harry’s outstretched hand before seeming to recognise whose it was.

‘It’s all right,’ Harry said. Dobby looked towards Lucius and answered that he had to go, rubbing one arm as he followed his master towards the doors.

Dumbledore accompanied Malfoy, speaking quietly about the governors’ inquiry. Harry remained beside the bed with clenched fists. He said Lucius could not simply take Dobby away after that, and I looked at the ragged covering again.

‘Does Dobby want to leave him?’ I asked. Harry said he did; Dobby had told him what freedom would mean, but a house-elf remained bound to the household until dismissed. A master could do that by giving him clothing.

I looked at my feet. One sock was still on; Pomfrey had removed the other while cleaning the mud from my legs. I asked Harry to bring Dumbledore back for a moment, and he did, leaving Lucius just beyond the doors under Pomfrey’s thoroughly unimpressed gaze.

I pointed to the diary. ‘Is it safe to touch now?’ Dumbledore said it was no longer active and that he had dealt with the dangerous residue on its surface. It remained evidence, however, and he watched my face while I explained that I wanted to use it briefly where he could see it.

I pulled off the sock. His eyes moved from it to the book, and the corner of his mouth shifted slightly before he gave his answer.

‘It does not leave this passage. You will not follow Lucius anywhere alone.’ I put the sock between the ruined pages and closed the cover, keeping the torn parts together as well as I could. The result was untidy, which seemed a small objection compared with the rest of the book’s history.

Harry began to grin. ‘You think he’ll give it to Dobby.’ I told him Lucius was angry, wanted to leave and had somebody available to carry a dirty object for him.

Harry asked what would happen if he did not. We would have to try something else, I said, and passed him the diary. The plan depended on what Lucius chose to do; I could arrange an opportunity, but I could not make his hand close around it.

Pomfrey refused to let me get out of bed. She did allow it to be moved a little, giving me a view through the open doors, while Dumbledore remained beside the entrance. I could see Lucius’s face and one of Dobby’s enormous ears when Harry stepped into the passage.

‘Mr Malfoy. You left something behind.’ Harry held out the book with its damaged cover towards him. Lucius stopped whatever he had been about to say and looked at it.

‘I believe you’ve been told I know nothing about that.’ His hand remained on the cane, and for a moment I thought he would walk away.

‘Perhaps you’d like another look,’ Harry said. He kept his arm extended, leaving the diary where Lucius would have to pass it. I had not expected waiting to be so difficult; the sock was a small and foolish-looking thing to set against whatever made Dobby follow a man who kicked him.

Lucius snatched the diary from Harry and turned it over. His eyes caught the punctures, his face tightened and he thrust it at Dobby without looking down.

‘Hold that.’ Dobby took the book in both hands. Harry crouched beside him and asked him to open it, and the elf lifted the cover before Lucius’s sharp warning could stop him.

The sock slipped across Dobby’s fingers. He stared at it, looked towards his master and then back at the cloth, with an expression which changed from confusion into something bright enough for me to see from the bed.

‘Master has given Dobby clothes.’ He held up the sock while Lucius looked down at him. His next words came softly, as though he needed to hear them once before trusting them.

‘Dobby is free.’ He said it again, louder, clutching the sock against his chest.