𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐄𝐋 ; h.potter

twenty-four ; madness

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

"Yeah," Harry said, "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," Hermione said quickly.

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

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

"Winky — hic — is not only — hic — doing housework for Mr Crouch!" Winky squeaked indignantly, consequently 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?" Harry said eagerly.

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

"Winky keeps — hic — her master's secrets," she said mutinously, swaying very heavily now, frowning up at Harry with her eyes crossed. "You is — hic — nosing, you is."

"Winky must not talk like that to Harry Potter!" Dobby said angrily. "Harry Potter is brave and noble and Harry Potter is not nosy!"

"He is nosing — hic — into my master's — hic — private and secret — hic — Winky is a good house-elf — hic — Winky keeps her silence — hic — people trying to — hic — pry and poke — hic —" Winky's eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, she slid off her stool onto the hearth, snoring loudly. Harry and I exchanged alarmed looks as the empty bottle of Butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor.

Half a dozen house-elves came hurrying 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, hiding her from view.

"We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and misses!" a nearby elf squeaked, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. "We is hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sirs and misses!"

I started to say, "You don't need to apologise —" but Hermione cut in.

"She's unhappy!" she said, exasperated. "Why don't you try and cheer her up instead of covering her up?"

"Begging your pardon, miss," the house-elf said, bowing deeply again, "but house-elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served."

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

"Miss will please keep Dobby out of this," Dobby mumbled, looking scared. All around us, the house-elves, who had once been smiling cheerily, were looking at Hermione as though she were mad and dangerous.

"We has your extra food!" an elf that was standing on Harry's other side squeaked, shoving a large ham, a dozen cakes and some fruit into his arms. "Goodbye!"

The house-elves crowded around Harry, Ron, Hermione and I, and began shunting us out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of our backs.