Wade watched Dobby's little expression, both nervous and proud, and it was as though a stone had been dropped into his heart, sending shallow ripples outward.
A smile flickered in his eyes. "Very clever, Dobby. You did even better than I expected."
More importantly, Dobby could naturally say words like "my master." Though it was to resonate with the other house-elves, it also proved that Dobby had gradually emerged from the shadows of the past.
At that, Dobby excitedly bounced twice on the bed. "Dobby is so happy that Dobby could help Mr. Wade Gray!"
He sniffed hard, unable to stop the corners of his mouth from curling upward.
Wade smiled and turned his gaze toward the roll of parchment Dobby had brought. He carefully spread it out. The edges of the paper still carried the scent of detergent and fireworks.
Under the dim yellow light, Dobby had recorded a great many trivial clues in crooked handwriting. In the end, all the doubts pointed toward five names.
While Wade was organizing clues in the United States, two men in ordinary suits were walking along a pothole-ridden road on the outskirts of the city. A faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air.
The younger man had red hair, a tall, thin frame, and freckles across his face—he was none other than Percy Weasley.
He had once stood close to the Minister for Magic. In fact—Percy could say without false modesty—he had once been one of Minister Fudge's most trusted men, even able to represent the Minister of Magic at certain important occasions.
However, all that glory had vanished with Fudge's resignation.
Now, his face was full of resentment. His hair had not been properly groomed, and even the suit he wore to pass as a Muggle had a cheap