FINITE | Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire [4]

𝘅𝗹𝘃𝗶𝗶 | 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗹

The next morning, as Sirius had suggested, Gwen, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sent an owl to Percy asking whether he had seen Mr Crouch lately. They used Hedwig, as she hadn't had a trip in months, and Orion, seeing Gwen in the Owlery, did not appreciate this. When he flew away from her shoulder, he made sure to cuff her around the head with his wing.

  'Honestly, you'd think I tortured him,' she grumbled to the others as they watched Hedwig fly away.

  After the Owlery, the four of them went down to the kitchens to give Dobby his new socks. The house elves gave them a very cheery welcome, bowing and curtseying and bustling around to make tea again. Dobby was ecstatic about his presents.

  'Harry Potter is too good to Dobby!' he squeaked, wiping large tears out of his eyes.

  'You saved my life with that gillyweed, Dobby, you really did,' said Harry.

  'No chance of more of those eclairs, is there?' said Ron, who was looking round at the beaming house elves.

  'You've just had breakfast!' said Hermione irritably, but a great silver platter of eclairs was already zooming toward them, supported by four elves.

  'We should get some stuff to send up to Snuffles,' Gwen muttered, taking an eclair.

  'Good idea,' said Harry.

  'Give Pig something to do,' Ron agreed. 'You couldn't give us a bit of extra food, could you?' he said to the surrounding elves, and they bowed and hurried off to get more.

  'Dobby, where's Winky?' said Hermione, who was looking around.

  'Winky is over there by the fire, miss,' said Dobby quietly, his ears drooping.

  'Oh, no,' Hermione murmured, her eyes fixed on the fireplace. Gwen followed her gaze; Winky was sitting on the same stool as before, but now, she had allowed herself to become so filthy that she was not immediately visible from the blackened brick behind her. Her clothes were ragged and unwashed; she was clutching a bottle of butterbeer and swaying on her stool slightly, staring into the fire. As they watched her, she gave an enormous hiccup.

  'Winky is getting through six bottles a day now,' Dobby whispered to them.

  'It's not strong, that stuff,' Harry said.

  'For a house elf, it is,' Gwen murmured.

  Winky hiccuped again. The house elves watching her shook their heads disapprovingly.

  'Winky is pining,' Dobby whispered sadly. 'Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr Crouch is her master, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now.'

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