𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 || HJP

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 : A NEW FRIEND, THE BUBBLE OF WORRIES AND MR CROUCH

"Winky drinks six bottles a day now," Dobby whispered to Harry.

"That stuff isn't even that strong," Harry replied.

Dobby shook his head. "For a house-elf, it is strong, sir," he said.

"House-elf drinks?" exclaimed (Y/n) in disbelief.

Winky hiccoughed once more, while the elves who had delivered the éclairs gave her disapproving glances as they returned to work.

"Winky is yearning to return home, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered sorrowfully. "She still believes that Mr. Crouch is her master and nothing I say can convince her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now."

"Hey, Winky," said Harry, struck by a sudden idea, as he walked over and knelt down to speak with her. "Do you know what Mr. Crouch might be up to? He's been absent from the Triwizard Tournament."

Winky's eyes flickered. Her enormous pupils focused on Harry. She swayed slightly again and then said, "M-master is stopped - hic - coming?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "we haven't seen him since the first task. The Daily Prophet's saying he's ill."

Winky swayed some more, staring blurrily at Harry. "Master - hic - ill?"

Her bottom lip began to tremble.
"But we're not sure if that's true," said Hermione quickly.

(Y/n) just stood there, unsure of what to do.

"Master is needing his - hic - Winky!" whimpered the elf. "Master cannot - hic - manage - hic - all by himself ..."

"Other people manage to do their own housework, you know, Winky," said Hermione severely.

"Winky - hic - is not only - hic - doing housework for Mr Crouch!" Winky squeaked indignantly, swaying worse than ever and slopping Butterbeer down her already heavily stained blouse.

"Master is - hic - trusting Winky with - hic - the most important - hic - the most secret -"

"What?" said Harry.

But Winky shook her head very hard, spilling more Butterbeer down herself.

"Winky keeps - hic - her master's secrets," she said rebelliously, swaying heavily now, frowning up at Harry with her eyes crossed.

"You're nosing, you are."

"Winky mustn't speak like that to Harry Potter!" said Dobby angrily. "Harry Potter is brave and noble and Harry Potter isn't nosy!"

"He's prying into my master's private and secret business. Winky is a good house-elf. She keeps her silence. People are always trying to pry and poke," Winky's eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, she slumped off her stool onto the hearth, snoring loudly.

The empty bottle of Butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor.
Half a dozen house-elves scurried forward, looking disgusted. One of them picked up the bottle, the others covered Winky with a large checked tablecloth and tucked the ends in neatly, concealing her from view.

"We're sorry you had to witness that, sirs and miss!" squeaked a nearby elf, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. "We hope you won't judge us all by Winky, sirs and miss!"

"She's unhappy!" said Hermione, frustrated. "Why not try to cheer her up instead of covering her up?"

"Excuse me, miss," said the house-elf, bowing deeply again, "but house-elves have no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" said Hermione indignantly. "Listen to me, all of you! You've got the same right as wizards to be unhappy! You have the right to wages and holidays and proper clothing. You don't have to do everything you're told - look at Dobby!"