Dobby the Pixie and Voldemort (I)

He had seen this House-Elf before. At Aunt Penny's house. Before the start of his second year, he had briefly encountered Dobby at Aunt Penny's house—that encounter had left a deep impression on him of the little creature in a tattered pillowcase, speaking nonsense and constantly tugging at its ears.

"Dobby?" Harry's voice held a trace of uncertainty. "You're... the House-Elf from the Malfoy Family?"

The Pixie abruptly raised its head, and its enormous green eyes instantly burst with a light like someone receiving salvation. Its lips trembled, its voice trembled, its entire body trembled like a dead leaf about to be blown off a branch.

"Y-yes!" Dobby's voice was shrill and shaking, filled with the excitement of something suppressed for far too long finally finding an outlet. "Great Harry Potter remembers Dobby! Dobby... Dobby is so honored!"

It clutched the edge of its old pillowcase tightly with its long, thin fingers, its knuckles turning white and its nails packed with black grime. Its body shook with excitement, making the tattered pillowcase rustle like a flag torn by the wind. Tears welled from its large eyes, ran down its pointed nose, and dripped onto the filthy pillowcase, leaving small dark stains.

"Why are you here?" Harry lowered his voice and warily glanced at the tightly shut infirmary door.

There was no shadow beneath the crack under the door and no footsteps in the corridor, but Madam Pomfrey could return at any moment.

Her footsteps were light, as light as a cat's, but her ears were sharp. Any unusual sound could draw her over. "How did you get in? This is Hogwarts, and there are magical barriers. Aren't House-Elves unable to Apparate in freely?"

Dobby nodded hard, so vigorously that Harry worried its neck might snap. "Yes, yes! Hogwarts has ancient