I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 78 Clear Foolishness

Irving nodded, walked past Lockhart, and headed further inside.

"Will Professor Snape be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year?" Draco followed along.

"What, do you have a grudge against him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone knows that wizards who become professors of dark magic don't have a good ending."

"This year, Headmaster Dumbledore has found another unlucky guy."

"As for Professor Snape, although he's always been prejudiced against me, I'm a magnanimous person. Why should I hold a grudge? Let him continue working! In a few years, I'll suggest to the headmaster that he replace the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!"

"snort!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The sky is azure blue, and there are origami cranes outside the window.

Lockhart's smile finally vanished.

He desperately wanted to cry, but his persona forced him to stay upright, preventing his tears from falling.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Several tens of minutes later, the little wizard finally bought all the textbooks for this year.

They gathered at the entrance.

Irving snapped his fingers.

Dobby then appeared.

"Take these home, oh! And also take Harry and Ron home." He pointed to a pile of books high on the ground.

There are about a hundred precious books of all kinds.

"Yes, sir." Dobby nodded.

After these days, its perception of its new owner, Irving, has changed drastically.

I won't hit it, I won't let it go hungry, and I certainly don't have the idea of ​​cutting off its head and hanging it on the wall.

This past month has been the happiest time for it.

Although I still don't have freedom, I can accept things continuing like this.

The happiness before his eyes had blinded Dobby's yearning for freedom.

And all of this—Irving paid no attention to.

Sometimes he would forget that there was a little elf in the house, and he would only remember it when he was doing chores.

As for the rest of the time, Merlin knew what a little elf did in his spare time.

"Sir, are these all of them?" The little elf asked uncertainly, looking at the stack of books, which was more than ten feet high, leaning against the wall of Flourish and Blotts.

"That's right, these are the ones. Be careful, some of them are very expensive." Before Owen could even speak, the owner of Flourish and Blotts Bookstore strode out, looking at Owen with a smile that was almost overflowing.

This guy is practically their bookstore's savior!

You should know that those rare, unique copies, especially the manuscripts, are not easy to sell.

After all, for most wizards, buying a copy is sufficient, and the copies are more exquisitely made, with errors in the original manuscript removed and the content integrated.

As for those manuscripts—is buying those purely for fun a serious illness?

This has been sitting at the bottom of a box for hundreds of years.

A layer of dust; even an ordinary wizard would find it dirty to look at.

But today!

Nowadays!

It's finally sold!

At this moment, Owen was more important to him than Harry or Lockhart. If he weren't afraid that the Aurors would accuse him of some strange crime, he would definitely go over and kiss the boy.

"Yes, sir." Dobby hurriedly corrected himself, then cautiously glanced at Owen. Seeing that the other man wasn't angry, he breathed a sigh of relief and began to deal with the book in front of him.

"My God! What is this?"

Suddenly, a startled cry beside him snapped Irving back to reality.

Damn it, I forgot Granger was here!

"Just a house-elf." Beside Owen, Malfoy nudged Hermione with his pointed chin. "You haven't seen one before, have you?"

"That's truly pathetic."

"Owen, what's going on?" Hermione ignored Malfoy's taunts and walked straight up to Owen.

"House-elves, well, they're—" Ron explained from the side.

Then Hermione's face fell like a freefall as he spoke, growing darker and darker.

As he was talking, a cool breeze suddenly blew across Ron's neck.

Oops~ It's going to rain!

Realizing that a war of words was about to break out, Ron immediately shut his mouth.

"Wait! I know what you're going to say."

Seeing Hermione's expression, Owen spoke up without thinking.

"I also deeply abhor this kind of racial exploitation!"

Dobby used to call him master.

After hearing it only once, Irving forcibly ordered him to change the way he was addressed.

What is the name for hanging streetlights?

I don't want to be just a decorative accessory.

As Irving spoke, he took off his jacket.

It was draped over Dobby's shoulders.

"Starting today, Dobi is free for you!"

"???"

Dobby, who was preparing to move the books, suddenly paused.

Then his whole body froze.

It seemed somewhat bewildered.

I thought I had misheard.

"You are free, Dobby!"

Before Malfoy could speak, Irving spoke again.

"Sir—Dobby—Dobby"

It touched its coat, its big, blinking eyes staring incredulously at Owen, and gradually a tear dripped from the corner of its eye onto the ground.

"etc!"

Irving spoke up to stop him, saying, "Now you are free, but you are helpless and have no job. Moreover, you are no longer a member of the Sanchez family, so you can't just eat and live there for free like before."

"Are you feeling lost, helpless, and anxious about the future? Look at you, tears are streaming down your face."

"Alright, I'll give you a job. Starting today, right now, I, Owen Sanchez, am officially employing you, Dobby!"

Irving patted the little elf on the shoulder, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"Work from 6 AM to 9 PM every day, one day off a week, and I'll pay you seven Galleons a month! How about it!"

"No—no, Dobby doesn't need a vacation, Dobby wants to work hard." Still feeling dizzy, Dobby said urgently and subconsciously.

It bowed to Irving, seemingly feeling that having too much rest time was a crime.

"Oh, really? Then—how about this! Flexible working hours, rotating shifts. Eight Galleons a month! Any problems?"

"No, Dobby is fine, Dobby."

The little elf touched Owen's coat, an expensive Muggle trench coat, and felt the warm touch of his fingers; everything felt so real.

"Sir, you gave Dobby some clothes."

"Dobby—Dobby's free!"

"Hmm! You're doing this for free, as free labor—oops—I mean, you have a bright future ahead of you, keep it up! Work hard! Strive for a brand new tomorrow."

"Oh! Merciful sir, you are the kindest wizard ever, you—" Dobby, overwhelmed with emotion, sobbed softly, wrapped in his clothes.

It was as if it had truly gained freedom.

After a long while, Dobby raised its head again, staring at Owen with its big, watery eyes. "Thank you, sir."

Amount(⊙o⊙)…

Looking at the innocent, naive little sprite in front of him, Owen felt a slight chill run down his neck.

似~

Thankfully, there are no streetlights in Diagon Alley.

Available for purchase on the 1st! Available for purchase on the 1st!

(End of this chapter)