Dobby the House-Elf and Voldemort (2)

Who was that "Lord"?

Someone who could make Lucius Malfoy so respectful, and who possessed a powerful defensive ward that could keep House-Elves out—

What exactly was this person, or this thing?

"After Master went inside, the door closed. Dobby could only vaguely hear very, very quiet voices... One voice sounded like Master's... the other... the other voice..." Dobby tried hard to remember, looking even more confused. Its huge eyes rolled around in their sockets as though it were chasing an invisible fly.

"Dobby cannot remember! That voice... that 'Lord's' voice and appearance... they are like smoke in Dobby's mind... Dobby cannot remember! Dobby clearly saw him... but Dobby just cannot remember what he looked like! Dobby only remembers... it was cold... terrifying... and... crimson streams of light? Like burning coals? Like—like eyes?"

It painfully tugged at its ears. Its enormous ears had been pulled bright red, their edges marked by its nails.

It could not understand this blurred memory. To a House-Elf, memory was everything—they had no property, no freedom, nothing of their own but memory. If even their memories could not be trusted, what did they have left?

Harry's heart sank. Powerful defenses, Lucius's unusual deference, a terrifying "Lord" whose face people could not remember—these fragments spun, collided, and joined together in his mind, forming a pattern that sent a chill down his back. He remembered the pain in his scar on the day of the match, those crimson eyes watching him from the middle of the Slytherin stands, and the boy named Uchiha Madara.

But why had his scar hurt? It had only hurt before when Voldemort was nearby.

Could that boy be connected to Voldemort? Or—was he even more terrifying than Voldemort?

"There is something even stranger!" Dobby's voice trembled with the shock of glimpsing an