"Bioremediation?"
Wade instantly thought of walking tin-can men. Then he recalled what he had learned from books: "Like the Sorting Hat and Wizard Chess?"
Professor Moray smiled.
"Wizard Chess and the Sorting Hat seem similar, but in reality, they are completely different."
He raised a finger, and a box lid on the table opened. Black and white chess pieces marched out in a line, chattering as they took their places on the board.
The White Queen glared at Wade with great dissatisfaction: "Hurry up and play! Is there a commander?"
On the other side, a knight bellowed, "Let me charge! I want to break through the enemy's army!"
Professor Moray nodded, and the chess pieces immediately fell silent.
"This is Wizard Chess."
Professor Moray continued, "Sometimes it gives people the illusion that they also have life and thoughts. But in reality, that's not the case—do you know why?"
Wade thought carefully.
He didn't play chess often, but because these pieces were interesting, he collected a set and would let them battle each other on the board when he was bored.
The more he observed, the more he noticed that these seemingly lively pieces actually behaved very rigidly.
"They always display similar personalities, say similar things... Occasionally there are some changes, but they don't grow themselves, nor do they learn from failure."
"Exactly, so these are just toys pretending to have thoughts."
Professor Moray made the chess pieces return to their box and continued:
"Injecting thoughts into inanimate objects, making things like mirrors, tape measures, and flying broomsticks seem to have their own ideas, is just low-level bioremediation."
"But the Sorting Hat is different. If you communicate with it a few times, you'll find that fellow actually has quite a mind of its own."
"It's genuinely thinking independently and making its own judgments, rather than rigidly selecting students according to the founders' intentions."
Wade secretly gritted his teeth, recalling when the Sorting Hat rejected him.
—Indeed! Not only did that fellow have its own thoughts, but it was also quite sarcastic.
"But the Sorting Hat isn't truly alive... It has a mind, but it cannot reproduce or metabolize."
"True bioremediation—which in ancient times was actually called life alchemy—is capable of creating genuine living organisms, and you're not unfamiliar with the most successful work. Guess what it is, Wade..."
Wade lowered his head in thought.
Bioremediation... genuine living organisms... capable of self-reproduction... successful creations...
He had learned about many magical creatures from books, but had rarely encountered them in person.
A moment later, Wade looked up and said definitively, "House-elves."
Professor Moray showed a satisfied smile: "Excellent, it is indeed house-elves."
"According to legend, ancient wizards, living far from human settlements, found life inconvenient, and various kinds of elves were born from nature."
"Gouranlin helped craftsmen improve their skills and create tools."
"Dwarven elves provided help to farms, and some even helped people make shoes."
"Cellar elves helped manage food and wine, but they would also steal wine to drink themselves."
"Kobolds would help milk cows, collect eggs, and clean yards."
"Brownies, on the other hand, helped with housework with extraordinary speed and efficiency, but if they were given payment, they would disappear forever."
"At the same time, due to the malice of wizards, many malevolent elves were also born from swamps, from beneath tree roots, and from dark forests."
"Goblins caused disasters, Red Caps hunted for blood, Impish creatures made animals sick, Pixies led people astray, and Bogdocks frightened children at night."
"Some of these elves have become legends, and we don't know if they truly exist; but some... you'll learn about in Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Wade nodded. "Red Caps are in the third-year textbook... So house-elves are descendants of those benevolent elves?"
Excluding the part where the entire world revolves around wizards, even if the legends of the wizarding world sound incredibly imaginative... they might very well be true.
"Saying 'descendants' is too gentle, Wade," Professor Moray said. "To be precise, ancient wizards used extreme methods to try and strip away the parts of those elves' bodies that weren't beneficial to humans—"
"Such as laziness, theft, mischief... and dignity."
"The very first house-elves were born from these experiments."
"But their magic was too weak, their work efficiency greatly reduced, and they were even often harmed by livestock."
"So ancient wizards made some further modifications to them—integrating goblin bloodlines to give house-elves powerful magic as well."
"But goblins don't seem to consider house-elves their kin?" Wade asked.
"Of course not," Professor Moray said slowly. "Goblins are very proud. In their view, house-elves are lowly creatures, not worthy of being called kin."
"After house-elves gained powerful magic, they were no longer willing to be enslaved by wizards."
"Their predecessors—like brownies and dwarven elves—though they liked working for wizards, were proud creatures. If they felt insulted, they would even bear malice towards their masters."
Wade nodded and said, "So that's why there are records of house-elf rebellions in A History of Magic."
More than half of the wars between wizards and other races in A History of Magic came from goblins, so much so that many students didn't notice the subtly different phrasing and confused goblin rebellions with house-elf rebellions.
"Indeed," Professor Moray lamented. "Although not frequent, house-elves have rebelled several times."
"Wizards couldn't bring themselves to completely destroy such creations, so they could only repeatedly modify their minds, erase their personalities, and plant an imprint of absolute obedience in their brains, making them happy to be enslaved by wizards."
"Thus, the most ideal servants were domesticated."
"But there's one thing, rooted in the soul of this creature, that wizards could never eliminate—and that is life's inherent yearning for freedom."
"So there's an unchangeable contract between wizards and house-elves—when a master gives them clothes, they gain their freedom."
"But..."
Wade recalled the attitude of the elves towards freedom in the original story, and the exiled elf named Winky.
"Almost all the elves I know utterly detest freedom. If they're cast out by their masters, they feel deeply ashamed and are heartbroken."
"Yes—heartbroken."
Professor Moray's smile held a hint of mockery.
"Exiled house-elves are free; they can go anywhere—including their former master's home."
"But tell me, has any exiled elf ever returned?"