While his friends talked, Richie continued examining Riddle's diary with interest. Then he looked at Weasley.
"Ron, why didn't you give the diary to your father?"
"My father?" Ron grimaced. "He'd have taken it away. I wanted to show it to you first."
"Ron, this thing really could be dangerous," Richard said.
"The only dangerous thing about it is that whenever you write in it, the ink disappears and answers start appearing," Ron replied with a careless wave of his hand.
Richard let out a weary sigh, closed his eyes, and rubbed his face with one hand.
"Dear heavens, give me strength," he muttered. "Ron, you know this is Riddle's diary. You know someone planted it on Ginny. You know it's a magical artifact. And despite all that, you've been happily using it instead of handing it over to an adult? Ron... are you out of your mind?"
"Oi!" Weasley protested indignantly.
"I'm with Richie," Harry said seriously. "Do we really need to take chances with this? Let's tell Mr. Weasley."
Ron went pale. His eyes widened in alarm, and he shook his head vigorously.
"Why not, Ron?" Harry asked.
Weasley answered in a miserable voice,
"If Dad finds out we've had a dangerous artifact sitting in our house for a whole month, do you have any idea how angry he'll be? He's only ever really yelled at me once, and that was more than enough."
"Ron, don't worry," Richard said soothingly. "I've got a better idea. The Grosvenor Workshop is currently conducting classified research under the supervision of a representative from the Department of Mysteries. Let's send Riddle's diary to the Unspeakable overseeing the project instead. He won't tell your father a thing, Ron. Unspeakables know far better than anyone else how to deal with dangerous magical artifacts."
"Er..." Ron hesitated. "If he really won't tell anyone... But maybe we shouldn't hand the diary over at all? We could uncover You-Know-Who's secrets..."
"No, Ron." Richard shook his head. "It's not worth it. Life and health are worth far more than the secrets of some terrorist. Besides, plenty of 'secret' knowledge can be found in the Hogwarts library—or at an ordinary university."
"Oh, give it a rest!" Ron rolled his eyes. "Richie, the things you come out with..." He snorted with laughter. "'Secret knowledge' in a library! Ha! Do I look like Granger?"
"We should send the diary away," Potter declared. "Maybe I should call my uncle? He could come back."
"No need, Harry," Richard said. "There's a faster way. Donky!"
With a loud crack, a distinguished house-elf appeared in the compartment between the boys. Dressed in an expensive black three-piece suit, a crisp white shirt, a dark blue tie, and shoes polished to a mirror shine, he looked every bit the respectable gentleman.
The elf carried himself with all the dignity of a butler. His eyes immediately found Richard, and he bowed deeply.
"Did my lord summon Donky?" he asked.
"Yes, Donky," Richie replied, turning his gaze toward Riddle's diary. "What can you tell me about this object?"
The house-elf's large, sharp eyes fixed intently on the diary. His nostrils flared wide, as though he were trying to catch an elusive scent.
"A bad thing, my Lord," Donky replied curtly. "If Donky may be permitted to offer his opinion, Donky believes my Lord should keep as far away from such filth as possible."
"That proves it!" Harry exclaimed triumphantly. "See, Ron? And you wanted to keep the diary... Ron? RON!"
Weasley was completely lost to the world. His eyes were now every bit as large as the house-elf's. Ronald stared at Donky in utter amazement. Harry's final shout jolted him out of his trance. He shook his head sharply, as though throwing off a spell.
"Merlin's underpants!" he cried in astonishment. "An elf... in a suit! I thought Dad was joking..."
Donky remained perfectly composed. He turned calmly to Ron and said coolly,
"Mr. Weasley, sir, of course Donky is wearing clothes. Or would you have preferred to see Donky unclothed? What a very naughty young gentleman you are."
Ron's jaw dropped so far it seemed determined to meet the floor. He looked so utterly bewildered and astonished that it was as if a cow had suddenly started talking to him—and preaching veganism.
"Wha...?!" Ron blurted out.
"Oh..." The house-elf rolled his eyes. "Children do grow up so quickly! Mr. Weasley, sir, I assure you, there's really nothing worth looking at beneath Donky's suit..."
It finally dawned on Ron that the elf was making fun of him. He noticed Richie and Harry were both fighting desperately to keep from laughing. Weasley's face slowly turned crimson.
"To Morgana with your suit!" Ron burst out indignantly.
"Rooon..." Richard drawled teasingly. "Why are you so fascinated by Mr. Donky's suit? You seem awfully determined to get him out of it."
"I am not!" Ron shouted back, scandalized. "I couldn't care less what your house-elf's wearing... Honestly, just leave me alone."
Ron noticed that Harry had completely lost the battle. Potter had bitten down on the sleeve of his robes and was shaking with suppressed laughter.
In a voice full of tragic disappointment, Ron asked,
"You too, Harry?!"
With considerable effort, Richard managed to suppress his own smile before addressing his friends.
"All right, gentlemen, enough joking. Donky, take the notebook to Mr. Broderick Bode. I'll write him a note. And not a word about the diary to anyone except Bode. One more thing..."
"Yes, my lord..." Donky's long ears perked up attentively.
"Keep a discreet eye on Bode's research," Richard continued. "I have a slight suspicion he may not share the whole truth with me."
"Donky shall see to everything, my lord," the house-elf replied.
The house-elf waited while Richard wrote a note to the Unspeakable, then took both the letter and Riddle's diary before vanishing with a sharp crack.
"Now that's what I call a proper house-elf!" Harry Potter declared, still grinning from ear to ear.
"Harry, he was making fun of me!" Ron protested.
"He was," Potter agreed. "But he wasn't setting you up or being cruel about it. Donky's got a brilliant sense of humor—and impeccable style. Unlike Dobby."
"Oh, enough already..." Ron sulked. "I don't know who this Dobby of yours is, but forget him and look what I've got."
With obvious pride, Ron pulled a broomstick out of his suitcase.
"Whoa!" Harry exclaimed in delight. "That's a Nimbus 2001!"
"You bet!" Ron practically beamed with happiness and pride. "I'm planning to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year. What about you, Harry?"
"I don't have a broom," Harry admitted dejectedly.
Richard immediately realized his friends were about to launch into a lengthy discussion of Quidditch—one that would probably last all the way to Hogwarts. Deciding a tactical retreat was the wisest course of action, he rose to his feet.
"I'm going to have a look around and see if I can find anyone else I know," he said. "Try not to miss me too much."
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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