Flying Car

"So, this was the guy who intercepted our letters?"

Ron glared at Dobby with an ugly expression, as though he dearly wanted to kick him a few times. Dobby had been tied up tightly by Kreacher and could not move at all.

"Not just yours. Hermione's, Hagrid's—he didn't miss a single one."

"What a pity house-elves can't play Quidditch."

"Otherwise, he'd definitely be a world-class Keeper."

The twins examined the envelopes, taking turns teasing him.

"He said something terrible would happen at Hogwarts this year, but he couldn't tell me exactly what it was."

"I just asked him who wanted to hurt me, and he couldn't say." Harry shook his head helplessly. "Then I asked how that person wanted to hurt me, and he still couldn't say."

"Don't worry, Harry." Kano shook his head. "You should trust Dumbledore."

"Oh, no." Dobby spoke up. "Even if he is a white wizard whose magical power rivals Voldemort's, there are some things he cannot do, because he isn't that..."

"Bad Dobby, bad Dobby, almost said something bad about the master's family..."

Dobby began banging his head against the wall again. Harry had no choice but to step forward and pin him to the ground.

"I think what he meant was that his master's family has no moral bottom line." Ron curled his lip. "But let me put it this way: old families with house-elves generally don't have much of a moral bottom line in how they do things."

Harry finally managed to restrain Dobby. Or perhaps Dobby had knocked himself unconscious.

"Can someone tell me what to do with him?" Harry panted as he climbed up from the floor. "I'm really afraid I'll say the wrong thing and make him abuse himself to death."

"Let me handle it." Kano stepped forward and shook the dazed Dobby awake.

Dobby's eyes refocused, and Kano leaned close to whisper a single word into his ear: "Malfoy."

Dobby twisted backward in terror. Kano straightened and added, "Dumbledore has already made preparations. Don't worry, and don't do anything unnecessary."

After saying that, he signaled for Kreacher to untie Dobby. Kreacher regretfully curled his fingers, and the complicated knots around Dobby unraveled on their own.

Dobby bowed to Harry and Kano, sniffed, snapped his fingers, and vanished into thin air.

"All right, it's getting late." One of the twins looked at the clock in the room, while the other went outside to start the car.

"We used clearing the garden of gnomes as an excuse to sneak out, and we took this car without permission too," Ron explained. "Mate, we took a huge risk to come get you."

Harry nodded, touched. "If Muggles saw you, you'd be punished, right?"

"It has nothing to do with Muggles, Harry. Our dear mum is just overprotective." It was probably Fred speaking. "If we don't hurry up, you'll see just how angry she can get."

"Kano, are you coming with us?" Ron invited.

"No, I just got back from your house a few days ago. Besides, with two more people and a pile of luggage, your old Ford would be packed like a tin of sardines."

Kano shook his head and declined the Weasley family's invitation. He had no desire to intrude on Harry's first time meeting the family.

"The inside of this car has been magically expanded, so it won't be crowded. But you have a point—Mum's been going on about how gentle and polite you are ever since you left." Ron shrugged. "It'd be good to give us some time to catch our breath too."

Harry ran back to the Dursley Family home and quickly packed his luggage amid Uncle Vernon's roaring.

"Wizards have truly awful taste," Vernon bellowed. "A battered old Ford, of all things."

Harry stuffed his luggage into the car and jumped into the back seat. The old Ford, which had been sitting steadily in place, shot straight up into the air and vanished into the sky.

Vernon stared blankly at the sky, his mouth hanging open.

And just like that, Harry was gone for good. Kano waved from the yard and continued his peaceful holiday.

"Almost forgot. I need to arrange with the Weasleys to go to Diagon Alley and buy books together."

Muttering to himself, Kano wrote a letter and gave it to Kreacher, telling him to deliver it later.

After all, on that day, Lucius would toss the Horcrux diary into Ginny's cauldron. Kano needed to seize the chance to intercept it.

A few days later, Ron's half-dead owl, Errol, brought back a reply. At the same time, an owl from Hogwarts delivered the new term's book list.

This year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was Gilderoy Lockhart, a petty man who used Memory Charms to erase others' memories and then claimed credit for their heroic deeds.

Of course, aside from being skilled with Memory Charms, he had other strengths. He was highly skilled at cultivating a fanbase, packaging himself as a handsome, talented, and charming wizard. On top of that, he was a decent writer, describing other people's exploits so vividly that they came alive on the page.

After all, he was a Ravenclaw graduate. Even if he lacked magical ability, he had enough brains.

But now, Kano frowned at the row of "nonfiction novels" written by Lockhart and listed as required textbooks.

Wasn't it a bit much to make students boost his sales so openly?

His books were not cheap, after all, and at this point his reputation was at its peak. Even secondhand copies were hard to find.

"Kreacher, how many wizards do you know who do dirty work?" Kano pursed his lips, deciding to trip up that narcissistic fellow.

"Young master, that depends on your needs," Kreacher asked. "Murder and silencing, or masked robbery?"

"No, nothing that extreme..." Kano pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just find me some small-time character with sticky fingers but not enough nerve to kill or rob anyone."

"Also, go buy me a complete set of the books Gilderoy Lockhart listed, along with two self-inking quills."

Kreacher left to carry out his orders. Kano dug out a thick telephone directory from the house and found a printing company.

Somewhat clumsily turning the telephone dial, Kano called the printing company.

"Yes, that's right, a few fantasy novels. I'm not planning to publish them."

"Only a hundred copies per volume—just enough to hand out among family and friends for them to read."

"A paid consultation? Sure. Wait until I bring you the original manuscript, then we'll discuss it."

Kano hung up. Kreacher happened to return carrying a stack of Lockhart's books. Kano enchanted the self-writing quills, setting them to rapidly copy Lockhart's books.

After all, he couldn't send those moving photographs and such to a printing house.

"Young Master, there's someone called Mundungus Fletcher. He should meet your requirements."

Kano remembered him as well. Mundungus was a lowlife in wizarding society. Though he wasn't wicked enough to end up in Azkaban, he was definitely no good person upon closer inspection.

But he had once worked for the Order of the Phoenix and could often uncover secret information unavailable through normal channels.

It was fair to say that while he had flaws in the small things, he still possessed a little sense of justice.

"Him, then. Tell him I have a small business matter to discuss with him."