Dark Pasts { A Harry Potter Story }

Chapter 26 - The Truth About House-Elves

The next time we went down to the kitchens to get food for Sirius, Winky looked more miserable than ever. Sitting before the fireplace, she was almost unrecognizable due to how filthy she had become. She kept hiccuping as she emptied a bottle of butterbeer.

"Winky is getting through six bottles a day now," Dobby confessed.

"Well, it's not strong, that stuff," Harry said.

"'Tis strong for a house-elf, sir," Dobby replied.

Around us, the other elves were watching her disapprovingly as they worked.

"Winky wants to go home, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered. "Winky still thinks Mr. Crouch is her master, sir, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now."

Frowning, I looked down at the elf, wondering if she would ever get better. So far, it didn't seem she would.

"Hey, Winky," Harry said suddenly, "you don't know what Mr. Crouch might be up to, do you? Because he's stopped turning up to judge the Triwizard Tournament."

I didn't think bringing up Mr. Crouch was a good way of lifting Winky's spirits, but said nothing. She swayed on her bench as she looked to Harry with big eyes.

"M — Master is stopped — hic — coming?"

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

"Master — hic — ill?"

"But we're not sure if that's true," I said in an attempt to reassure her.

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

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

"Winky — hic — is not only — hic — doing housework for Mr. Crouch!" Winky said indignantly. "Master is — hic — trusting Winky with — hic — the most important — hic — the most secret — "

"What?" Harry said.

Winky shook her head repeatedly, spilling butterbeer down the front of her ragged clothes. "Winky keeps — hic — her master's secrets. You is —hic — nosing, you is."

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

I looked at Harry in amusement.

"He is nosing — hic — into my master's — hic — private and secret — hic — Winky keeps her silence — hic — people trying to — hic — pry and poke — "

Her eyelids dropped and she fell of her stool, leaving the now empty butterbeer bottle to roll away across the stone floor. The other house-elves looked even more disgusted.

"We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and misses!" one of them squeaked as they covered Winky with a tablecloth and picked up the bottle.

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

"Beggind your pardon, miss," the house-elf said, bowing, "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 cried. "Listen to me, all of you!"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. I frowned.

"You've got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy!" Hermione went on. "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!"