First Fudge, then Umbridge—Hodge had a sinking feeling that Professor Lockhart might be next on the chopping block. Sure enough, his premonition started to take shape the very next day.
At breakfast, Hodge spotted a new notice pinned to the bulletin board: Ministry of Magic Seeks Educational Review. Someone read it aloud: "For some time, the Ministry of Magic has been receiving feedback from parents regarding concerns about the quality of education at Hogwarts. The Minister is deeply troubled by this and believes it is the Ministry's duty to prevent irresponsible teachers from infiltrating the faculty. To this end, while the Ministry dispatches an elite team of Aurors to protect the school's staff and students, the Minister has also tasked certain members with evaluating the teaching quality of Hogwarts' curriculum to obtain firsthand, accurate feedback…"
At that moment, Harry, Ron, and Hermione crowded around. Hodge overheard them chatting about yesterday's match. Ron was practically gleeful. "You should've seen Goyle's face—he looked disgusted! Malfoy's arm was like a giant slug. I bet Lockhart's reputation is about to take a hit—oi, Hodge!"
Hodge jerked his chin toward the notice board. "I've got a feeling he's in for some trouble." Which meant the stack of signed photos he had from Lockhart might soon become collector's items. Hodge wasn't one for hoarding signatures, so he decided to use them up quickly before they went to waste.
As Harry and Ron peered at the notice, Hermione had already skimmed through it. She said in disbelief, "Are they targeting Professor Lockhart? But why? I'll admit, he's not exactly brilliant at teaching…"
Ron let out a loud snort, mimicking her tone. "Not exactly brilliant at teaching." Hermione's face flushed red—out of anger, not embarrassment. Harry also picked up on the notice's blatant hostility, but he didn't seem too bothered. In fact, he thought it might be a good thing. After all, the Minister of Magic had personally witnessed Lockhart turn a student's arm into a rubber hose. It wasn't surprising he'd have doubts. But Harry was more preoccupied with something else, debating whether to tell Hodge about Dobby's late-night visit.
He pulled Hodge aside to a quieter corner, with Ron and Hermione tagging along.
"How much do you know about house-elves?" Harry asked.
"A bit," Hodge replied. Like the names of every house-elf in the Hogwarts kitchens. And their cooking skills.
"Right, well… last night, Dobby came to see me," Harry said slowly. According to him, a house-elf named Dobby had suddenly appeared, confessing he'd planned to tamper with a Bludger to injure Harry and force him to leave Hogwarts. But with Dumbledore, Fudge, and the Ministry's Aurors around—Harry felt a wave of relief—Dobby hadn't succeeded. In fact, he'd been terrified, thinking he'd given himself away.
"Pretty half-baked plan," Hodge remarked. "Didn't you tell him there's a dangerous fugitive out there waiting for you?"
"He promised he won't try to get me kicked out of school anymore," Harry said quickly. "The point is, from what he said—though he didn't admit it outright—I'm almost certain it was Mr. Malfoy who slipped that diary to Ginny."
"And blocked off the platform entrance," Ron added, clearly annoyed. "Honestly, I'd love to report him to the Ministry."
"Don't," Hermione said in a conciliatory tone. "Dobby… Dobby just wants to keep Harry safe, even if his methods are extreme."
Hodge just looked at Harry, waiting for him to continue.
"Ron, Hermione, and I talked it over," Harry said. "House-elves are incredibly loyal, but Dobby…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "He's fiercely loyal to his masters, yet he still won't say which family he serves. At the same time, he's got his own mind. He's snuck out twice to warn me about danger, even punishing himself for it…"
Hodge thought for a moment. "Harry, some people argue house-elves are a type of wizard-like being because they're intelligent, emotional, and capable of magic. They're a lot like us— with their own preferences and sense of right and wrong. I do believe some of them can break through the magical rules binding them. Those rules aren't so different from contracts written by lawyers—there's always a loophole if you look hard enough. The key is wanting to find it. Dobby's clearly an outlier. I recall the Ministry passed laws to protect house-elf rights ages ago, but they faced a lot of pushback."
"Why, though?" Hermione asked, visibly shocked. She seemed baffled by the idea that a law could exist without being properly enforced.
"For one, house-elves are fiercely loyal by nature—they don't want to leave the families they serve," Hodge explained slowly. "And then there's the other side… how do I put this? It's about interests. Think about it: where do house-elves usually live? Fancy manors. They serve prestigious pure-blood families, taking care of entire households. If the Ministry's laws were fully enforced, those families might have to clean their own estates."
"But—" Hermione started, then paused, thinking carefully. Hesitantly, she said, "I've heard there's a group of house-elves right here at Hogwarts. What do you think about that, Hodge?"
Hodge suddenly realized Hermione might be on the verge of launching something like S.P.E.W.—the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare—ahead of schedule. He quickly clarified, "That depends on how you're looking at it. From the perspective of the Ministry's laws, reality's disappointing. But if you compare it to how house-elves used to be treated, things have improved a lot—especially at Hogwarts. If you're curious, check out some old newspapers from a decade ago… Hermione, I don't know how you define 'fair treatment,' but I'd suggest asking Harry what Dobby's life is like compared to the house-elves in the Hogwarts kitchens."
"Dobby told me that during the war, Voldemort treated them like vermin," Harry interjected.
"Oh, he's not wrong," Hodge said, pausing. "Here's an interesting question: lofty ideals versus a less-than-perfect reality—which one's more practical?"
Hermione bit her lip.
"But—" she said softly, "if we have to do something, shouldn't we start with what's right in front of us? The house-elves in the kitchens are within our reach."
"Do you think Professor Dumbledore's so stubborn he wouldn't pay the house-elves?" Hodge asked.
Hermione shook her head.
"Exactly. If the Ministry ever got serious about enforcing those original laws, I'm sure Dumbledore would be all for it. But here's the thing—remember what I said? Lofty ideals… if they're just empty words, it's better to focus on what's practical."
"Aren't lofty ideals good, though?" Hermione pressed. "At the very least, they inspire people…"
"You've already hit on one of their strengths," Hodge said. "They inspire, unite people, and bring together those who share the same vision." He noticed Hermione's eyes light up and continued, "In fact, I think lofty ideals are crucial for any political movement or law. No matter how thick a legal code is, the rules are always finite. Think about it: why do we make laws in the first place? Only by embedding those core principles can we avoid straying off course in the long run."
"More specifically," Hodge added, seeing Hermione's puzzled look, "what kind of society are we trying to build? How do we want different groups to coexist? What kind of lives do we want to live? Where are we headed? Questions like that. Laws alone can't answer them."
After a long pause, Ron glanced around, looking out of place. "Sorry to interrupt, but I feel like we're not in the Great Hall anymore—more like some stuffy courtroom. What were we even talking about originally?"
"Lockhart's fate," Hodge said.
"Oh, right!" Ron's tone perked up with a hint of mischief. "So, you all think he's toast?"
Hermione bit her lip again, her expression saying it all.
"We'll see," Hodge said finally.
————
Supporting me on Pa-treon to gain early access to advanced chapters and enjoy expedited updates. Your support is greatly appreciated.
pat-reon .c-om/Dragonhair
(Just remove the hyphen - and space, to access Pa-treon normally.)