"...Eh? This has nothing to do with me!"
Noticing William staring at him, Fenrir's expression stiffened slightly. He coughed twice, "Isn't this how all those mindless House-Elves are? Any act of disloyalty towards their master, they'd punish themselves, as if it would make them feel better..."
"Who is its master?" William said while pulling open the drawer beside him.
"I don't know, couldn't get it out..." Fenrir smacked his lips, watching as William sprinkled Dittany Essence onto the Elf's head. "But it seems to know me, which proves its master might be one of my old friends... or enemies."
As a green mist rose, the bleeding wound on the Elf's forehead began to heal, covered with a layer of newly grown skin. The next moment—as William waved his hand, Dobby finally woke up, blinking dazedly.
"Ah—"
The moment it saw William, it remembered the figure who had cast the charm on it—
"Langlock."
The piercing scream from the Elf's mouth came to an abrupt halt, its tongue stuck to the roof of its mouth, making it unable to utter any sound.
"Accio Veritaserum."
A green glass bottle flew off the shelf beside, landing in William's hand. He reached through the cage and pried open the Elf's mouth as it resisted fiercely, then dropped two drops of Veritaserum through the gaps on either side of its tongue.
"Veritaserum? This is..."
"Muffliato."
"Langlock."
"Petrificus Totalus."
Fenrir hadn't finished his sentence before William hit him with a "silencing package," then pulled up the black cloth from the floor, covering the werewolf's cage—since this guy found out William wasn't planning on killing him yet, he's been getting more and more reckless in his speech...
Perfect, let's put him in the black room for a few days.
Meanwhile, the Veritaserum began to take effect, the Elf dazedly stood up, its tongue had separated from its palate, it shook its ugly big head, seemingly resisting the effects of the Veritaserum. But evidently, it was futile; soon, it leaned weakly against the railing, a pair of bulging eyes devoid of spirit.
Since William knew the contents of his interrogation, to avoid unnecessary noise and a series of redundant operations, he chose to skip the extra steps and directly use Veritaserum—though that stuff is expensive... and very expensive, especially very expensive.
But William didn't spend money; it was Kabuda (also known as the Duck-billed Thief) who snagged it from Snape's cloak. As the Magic Potion professor at Hogwarts, although Snape doesn't seem like a good person, his accomplishments in Magic Potion are absolutely profound.
However, these days Kabuda has run to Luna's place, that young girl's affinity for Magical Creatures seems no less than William's.
Hopefully, the little guy can snag more stuff from there, he's already got enough Butter Beer cork earrings, hopefully, this time it can directly snag the Ravenclaw Diadem—he searched for it for two and a half years, turned the Ravenclaw Common Room upside down, but still found nothing.
After a brief wait, the Elf's mind slightly recovered, sufficiently able to answer questions but with little self-awareness.
"What's your name?" William poised the notebook on his leg, spinning the pen in his hand.
"Dobby, my name is Dobby—" the Elf responded in a very light voice, its sharp, thin voice trembling somewhat.
"Who is your master?"
"My master, master... my master is..." Dobby's face showed a painful expression, it stammered, unable to speak. William seemed not in a hurry, he petted the Diricawl that suddenly appeared on his leg (which he also brought back from the Forbidden Forest), patiently waiting.
"...my master... is, Mr. Lucius Malfoy."
Dobby seemed to suffer great torment, wanting to stand to continue punishing himself, but the Veritaserum's side effects rendered it immobile.
No wonder this Elf knows Fenrir Greyback; that werewolf used to leech off Malfoy Manor quite a bit.
Looks like the priority of visiting Malfoy Manor needs to be increased.
Perhaps... next weekend?
William suppressed his thoughts, continuing to ask, "Why did you cast a spell on the Bludger?"
"Dobby—Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Even if he gets severely injured and sent home, it's better than staying at Hogwarts... Dobby only wishes for Harry Potter to get a little hurt, and then be sent home by the Headmaster!"
Dobby's tone began to become rapid, its whole body trembling, appearing extremely agitated.
"But you almost killed him." William said expressionlessly, not that he was lying; given the state on the field that day, if it wasn't the protagonist sitting on the broomstick, they'd have fallen from the sky and been half-dead.
This Elf clearly didn't control its level well, Harry was even swiftly sent to the Hospital Wing afterward.
But... that was because a certain fool wanted to meddle unnecessarily.
"Not kill him—Dobby definitely didn't want to kill Harry Potter—just, Dobby made many efforts, Dobby made Harry Potter and his friends miss the train, Dobby caused Harry Potter to be locked up by his wicked Muggle aunt and uncle..." the Elf's voice grew sorrowful, "Dobby reminded Harry Potter again and again. Ah, but why won't he heed Dobby's warnings? Harry Potter missed the train, why doesn't he just go home?" It rubbed its ears, somewhat regretfully.
"..."
Oh good, so the reason I almost had an accident on the ship was because of you, punk?
"Cough, cough, why did you want Harry to go home?" William frowned, continuing to ask.
"Because history repeated—because the Secret Chamber was opened again, because..." Dobby's voice paused, seemingly extremely reluctant to say what came next, but the Potion's effects pried open its mouth, "because... Voldemort's plot looms over Hogwarts..."
History, Dark Lord, Secret Chamber...
William quickly extracted several keywords, tapping the pen on his notebook—it was clear, does this matter relate to Voldemort's plot?
He's not dead? Or not completely dead?
Hmm, next weekend I'll go to Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy should know quite a bit.
After setting the plan, William pulled out the diary from the table and placed it in front of the Elf—he still had to confirm one thing.
But just one glance at that diary, Dobby's tightly strung nerves suddenly broke, rolling its eyes, then after a miserable cry, it foamed at the mouth and collapsed.
"..."
Hmm, seems it's related—to Voldemort without a doubt.