A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

He dragged his slender body to his feet, opened his long, thin hands and examined them repeatedly, his face showing a bewildered expression.

“Dobby, where am I? Dobby remembers... Dobby disobeyed his master's wishes and secretly..." He spoke while looking around. Soon, his gaze met Felix's, who was sitting on the sofa—

He let out a scream, stumbled back a few steps, and grabbed his face in terror.

Through the gaps between his withered fingers, Dobby's large eyes were filled with terror. "F...F...Felix Heap!"

The little elf instinctively tried to run away, his small body becoming a blur, but the next second, his body froze.

Felix put down his wand, and his voice, filled with emotion, reached Dobby's ears: "A truly remarkable talent. House-elves are indeed magical creatures, but unfortunately, their magic is too weak."

Dobby's magic power is less than one-tenth of that of a normal adult wizard.

Exceptional talent, but meager magical power—that's the nature of house-elves. During his school years, Felix dedicated a significant amount of time to studying the weaknesses of various magical creatures, including house-elves.

In a short, one-on-one fight, the elves can gain the upper hand against the wizards thanks to their natural talent; but if they receive targeted training for a month or two, they will be no match for the wizards at all.

The terrified sprite struggled desperately to break free of the invisible restraints. But when Felix uttered a name, Dobby's body suddenly froze completely, as if petrified.

"Lucius Malfoy."

Dobby's expression grew even more terrified. Felix's words seemed to have awakened his body's instincts, and he trembled all over: "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" He suddenly jumped up, his body involuntarily trying to crash into the nearest cabinet.

Felix waved his wand, drawing him to a spot opposite him, and said calmly, "Dobby, I have no interest in the Dark Lord's relics, and you need not worry about what I might do."

“Dobby doesn’t believe it!” he screamed. “That’s…that’s the most evil magical creation. It will affect you and turn you into something as terrifying as the Dark Lord…”

"Snapped!"

A tattered diary was slammed onto the small table between the two of them. It had a large hole in it, but the edges were neat, as if that was how it was supposed to be.

Dobby's voice sounded as if someone was choking him, and he couldn't utter a single word.

“This is…” Dobby stood up awkwardly, his expression filled with confusion and bewilderment. He cautiously took two steps closer, then jumped onto the table, bending down to examine the damaged diary carefully.

His eyes, as big as tennis balls, widened in disbelief. "Unbelievable! Unbelievable... Mr. Harry Potter is safe!" Tears rolled down his long, pointed nose.

He wiped his tears with the tattered pillowcase he was wearing, muttering to himself. But he quickly realized something and shouted, "Bad Dobby, bad Dobby!" searching around for something to punish himself.

Felix shook his head. House-elves had fought a war with wizards and, after their defeat, signed an extremely harsh magical contract. Passed down through generations, obedience to their masters had become an instinct ingrained in their very bones.

Dobby's audacity in trespassing on the territory of a powerful wizard without his master's permission makes him a truly exceptional house-elves.

Felix tapped the sofa armrest with his fingers, and Dobby seemed to have been hit with a hammer, regaining his composure.

"Let's have a good talk, Dobby."

Dobby looked at him cautiously. "What would you like to know, esteemed and powerful Mr. Hyp?"

Although Felix already knew what had happened, he was still interested in some questions. He asked, "I want to know, the diary was passed down among three people: Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and myself. But why did you come and steal the diary when I had it?"

Of the three holders, two are junior wizards and one is a powerful professor. Why choose him of all people? This is too difficult.

Dobby looked quite restrained. He hunched over and whispered, “Because I can’t, sir. My body is preventing me from doing so. One is my young master, and the other is of noble status… I can’t, I can’t…” He let out a scream.

Felix pondered. The reason of 'not being able to touch the young master' was easy to understand, but what did 'Ginny, of noble status' mean?

The glory of a pure-blood family...

So, am I really not a purebred? Or do house-poms also make judgments based on external information?

Felix shook his head; he didn't care about the answer to the question.

"So how did you overcome your physical instincts to do these things? Lucius Malfoy didn't give you permission to act on your own, did he?"

The question seemed to frighten Dobby, and he sobbed softly.

“Dobby, Dobby had to punish himself to save Harry Potter, banging his head against the wall and burning his hands with a hot iron…” The house-elf’s tennis ball-sized eyes widened as he said this, “But it was all worth it, for Mr. Harry Potter’s safety… Dobby can do anything his master hasn’t explicitly forbidden, even if his behavior won’t please his master. Dobby has to punish himself. Good heavens! Bad Dobby! Very, very bad Dobby!”

He pinched his ear hard.

Hmm... Felix looked at him. "He's quite the talent among house-elves. He can even exploit such a loophole in the rules."

Felix glanced at the wall clock; about twenty minutes had passed, and he decided to temporarily end the conversation.

Chapter 110, Duel Lesson, has come to a perfect end.

"Dobby, can you stay here? We can talk later."

“No, Dobby must go back, back to his master… Dobby ran away while his master was visiting a friend.” Dobby emphasized, “A very close friend! His master won’t let Dobby come along.”

“Then come at your appointed time. I have something important to tell you. No, not now. I need time to prepare. You can let me know in advance.” Felix waved his hand, and a round, brass-colored metal plate flew over from the workbench.

It was a copper nat.

He tossed the coin to Dobby, who caught it and examined it closely. "No, no, Dobby can't take it. Dobby shouldn't have any money," he said fearfully, as if he were holding some malevolent dark magic artifact.

Felix sighed: "That's for you to notify me. If you inject magic in advance, I will receive the message."

These are also magical artifacts that come in pairs, somewhat similar to two-way mirrors, but their functions are far inferior.

If only one pair of Bronze Nats has been 'synchronized', and they inject magic into one, the other will become hot.

'Fever Nate' is a derivative of Felix's creation of the answer parchment, a product of the collective creativity of those young wizards, and it doesn't involve much technical skill.

Felix was just casually playing with them, and he even gave a pair to each member of the research team.

The Weasley twins were very interested in this, and Felix thought it wouldn't be long before they showed him the remains of 'Fever Nat'...

After hearing Felix's words, Dobby was relieved. He carefully examined the coin in his hand, his eyes seemingly shining.

"Is this a gift for Dobby?" he asked, tilting his head and holding the bronze Nate in his hands.

"You could say that." Felix had no intention of taking it back.

"Mr. Hyp is so generous! This is the first time Dobby has ever received a gift!" The elf was moved to tears.

Felix: "..." If you're happy, I have a lot of similar things.

Under his gaze, Dobby bowed to him, then snapped his fingers lightly, and he vanished.

“What an interesting talent,” Felix exclaimed.

House-elves are amazing creatures. They have many wizard-like abilities, such as the ability to just disappear, which is very similar to the wizard's Apparition, but the principles behind the two are completely different.

At least, as far as Felix knew, Hogwarts had deployed a large number of anti-Apparition spells, but this spell was ineffective against some magical creatures—such as phoenixes and house-elves.

In addition, house-elves can manipulate various small objects, making them very convenient for doing housework and tidying up rooms; they also possess considerable attack power, although this ability is always firmly bound by a magical contract.

But these are not the magic that wizards are familiar with, but rather the talents of magical creatures. They naturally possess these abilities, just like the avian snake can arbitrarily enlarge or shrink its body according to the space it is in.

……

When Felix returned to the Great Hall, the three professors were still carefully instructing the young wizard.

Two weeks have passed since the last dueling class, and many of the older wizards are now able to barely cast the Disarming Charm.

Felix saw the two young wizards exchange a glance, loudly chanting spells, only to awkwardly shoot bursts of sparks from the tips of their staffs. Then, almost unintentionally, they unleashed a true disarming spell, heading straight for him.

“Miss Burstdle, watch your spell,” Felix said, flicking the spell away at the rather stout witch. He gave her a second look. If he wasn’t mistaken, his assistant had obtained the cat hair from her and had worn a knitted hat for three weeks as a result.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Professor,” Milison Burst said somewhat flusteredly.

"You need to pay attention to the angle of your wand, and swing it with force, as if you're stabbing it. Also... faith is very important; don't fool around, it will seriously slow you down."

After giving pointers to a few young wizards, Felix approached Professor McGonagall, who was surrounded by a small group of people.

She stood excitedly in front of a pair of young wizards, praising loudly, "Potter, a truly excellent disarming spell." She wiped her eyes.

As Felix looked over, a beam of red light shot from Harry's wand, striking his opponent—Hermione Granger—precisely.

Her wand flew out of her hand, arcing through the air before being nimbly caught by Harry.

The little witch looked sullen.

Harry awkwardly handed him the wand, and just as he was about to say something, his next opponent stepped forward.

Felix was surprised to find that there was a rather long line opposite Harry, surrounded by many young wizards who were looking at Harry with admiration.

What's happening here?

When Hermione saw Felix, she quietly approached him. "Professor Hyp."

"How is this going?"

“Well, Ron mentioned that the reason he learned the Disarming Charm was because he was hit by the charm too many times while sparring with Harry,” she said, looking down.

Felix looked at Ron, who was enthusiastically commentating and making animated remarks, and felt it was utterly absurd.

But... is that even possible? Even he couldn't be sure.

This viewpoint is so outrageous that you can't think of it without a truly unique way of thinking.

He looked at his assistant. "So, you believed it too?"

Hermione said somewhat awkwardly, "At first I didn't believe it..." But as more and more young wizards came over, mainly asking to spar with Harry, she began to waver.

She cleverly changed the subject: "Professor, everyone says you've mastered sixth-level spells." Hermione stared at Felix's expression, trying to discern something.

"is it?"

“Yes!” Hermione emphasized. “Professor, what do you think?”

“My thought is, Miss Granger, we’re going to have to work overtime this weekend.”

"Huh? What?"

"Grade the homework assigned in the last duel class."

Hermione stared at him blankly. She couldn't help but look around at the hundreds of young wizards in the Great Hall, who were practicing spells with great enthusiasm.

In their eyes, this was a novel and interesting game.

Occasionally, when a spell goes astray or bursts out with dazzling sparks, the auditorium erupts in laughter.

But amidst the joyful atmosphere, she suddenly lost that happiness and felt a little panicked.

Seven or eight minutes later, Felix went up on stage to end the lesson.

“I have already seen your progress, young wizards.”

“The class leaders of each college, please collect all the assignments from last class. I will take the time to give you suggestions one by one—if your data is not fabricated.”

Many of the young wizards lowered their heads.

As the young wizards left the Great Hall, their faces beamed with bright smiles.