The House-elf before him was absolutely the dirtiest one Harry had ever seen.
He seemed to be wearing a battered pillowcase, with holes torn for his arms and legs to stick through. The whole thing was as shabby as a filthy rag.
What caught Harry's attention was that he seemed to have quite a few scars. Some were fresh and some old, covering almost every inch of his exposed skin.
"Who are you? Why are you in my room?" Harry frowned at the House-elf who had suddenly appeared before him, pointing his wand at him, his voice full of wariness.
"H-hello, esteemed Harry Potter, sir." The House-elf hesitated, then bowed deeply, his long, thin nose touching the carpet. In a somewhat trembling voice, he said, "It is a great honor to meet you. I am a humble House-elf, Dobby."
"Dobby?" Harry hesitated. From the way he behaved, the visitor did not seem to mean him any harm. Still, Harry did not lower his guard and kept his wand pointed at him. "Answer my question, Dobby. Why are you in my room?"
"Y-yes, Harry Potter, sir." The House-elf's voice trembled even more. "Dobby, Dobby is... is here to stop Harry Potter, sir, from going to Hogwarts."
"Stop me from going to Hogwarts?" Something stirred in Harry's mind, and then a thought suddenly struck him. "So, were you the one intercepting my letters, too?"
"Harry Potter, sir... is even more alert and wise than Dobby imagined. No wonder, no wonder you could defeat that terrible person." At that moment, a trace of joy actually entered Dobby's voice. He did not, however, answer Harry's question.
"You mean Voldemort?" Harry frowned slightly. Since speaking with Dumbledore, he had started calling Voldemort by his name again.
"Don't, don't!" Dobby seemed terrified at the sound of