Adventures of Harriet Potter

The Madness of Mr. Crouch

Harriet, Ron, and Hermione went up to the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday to send a letter to Percy, asking, as Sirius had suggested, whether he had seen Mr. Crouch lately. They used Hedwig, because it had been so long since she'd had a job. When they had watched her fly out of sight through the Owlery window, they proceeded down to the kitchen to give Dobby his new socks. The house-elves gave them a very cheery welcome, bowing and curtsying and bustling around making tea again. Dobby was ecstatic about his present. "Harriet Potter is too good to Dobby!" he squeaked, wiping large tears out of his enormous eyes.
"You saved my life with that gillyweed, Dobby, you really did," said Harriet. "No chance of more of those eclairs, is there?" said Ron, who was looking around at the beaming and bowing 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," Harriet muttered. "Good idea," said Ron. "Give Pig something to do. You couldn't give us a bit of extra food, could you?" he said to the surrounding elves, and they bowed delightedly and hurried off to get some 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 slightly. "Oh dear," said Hermione as she spotted Winky. Harriet looked over at the fireplace too. Winky was sitting on the same stool as last time, but she had allowed herself to become so filthy that she was not immediately distinguishable from the smoke-blackened brick behind her. Her clothes were ragged and unwashed. She was clutching a bottle of butterbeer and swaying slightly on her stool, 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 Harriet. "Well, it's not strong, that stuff," Harriet said. But Dobby shook his head. "'Tis strong for a house-elf, ma'am," he said. Winky hiccuped again. The elves who had brought the eclairs gave her disapproving looks as they returned to work. "Winky is pining, Harriet Potter," Dobby whispered sadly. "Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr. Crouch is her master, ma'am, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now."
"Hey, Winky," said Harriet, struck by a sudden inspiration, walking over to her, and bending down, "you don't know what Mr. Crouch might be up to, do you? Because he's stopped turning up to judge the Triwizard Tournament." Winky's eyes flickered. Her enormous pupils focused on Harriet. She swayed slightly again and then said, "M — Master is stopped — hic — coming?"
"Yeah," said Harriet, "we haven't seen him since the first task. The *Daily Prophet's* saying he's ill." Winky swayed some more, staring blurrily at Harriet. "Master — hic — ill?" Her bottom lip began to tremble. "But we're not sure if that's true," said Hermione quickly. "Master is needing his — hic — Winky!" whimpered the elf. "Master cannot — hic — manage — hic — all by himself. . . ." Harriet wanted to doubt this, but the evidence seemed to support it. "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, 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 Harriet. 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 Harriet with her eyes crossed. "You is — hic — nosing, you is." Harriet was content to let her rant. "Winky must not talk like that to Harriet Potter!" said Dobby angrily. "Harriet Potter is brave and noble and Harriet Potter is not nosy!"
"She 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 into the hearth, snoring loudly. 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, sir and misses!" squeaked a nearby elf, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. "We is hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sir and misses!" Harriet certainly wasn't judging them by Winky's standards. "She's unhappy!" said Hermione, exasperated. "Why don't you try and cheer her up instead of covering her up?"
"Begging your pardon, miss," said the house-elf, bowing deeply again, "but house-elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served." Harriet tried to warn Hermione away from this with a look. "Oh for heaven's sake!" Hermione cried. "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. The cheery smiles had vanished from the faces of the house-elves around the kitchen. They were suddenly looking at Hermione as though she were mad and dangerous. "We has your extra food!" squeaked an elf at Harriet's elbow, and he shoved a large ham, a dozen cakes, and some fruit into Harriet's arms. "Good-bye!" The house-elves crowded around Harriet, Ron, and Hermione and began shunting them out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of their backs. "Thank you for the socks, Harriet Potter!" Dobby called miserably from the hearth, where he was standing next to the lumpy tablecloth that was Winky.
"You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you, Hermione?" said Ron angrily as the kitchen door slammed shut behind them. "They won't want us visiting them now! We could've tried to get more stuff out of Winky about Crouch!" Harriet sighed as she really wished her friends would just admit their feelings and snog already. "Oh as if you care about that!" scoffed Hermione. "You only like coming down here for the food!" It was an irritable sort of day after that. Harriet got so tired of Ron and Hermione sniping at each other over their homework in the common room that she took Sirius's food up to the Owlery that evening on her own.
Pigwidgeon was much too small to carry an entire ham up to the mountain by himself, so Harriet enlisted the help of two school screech owls as well. When they had set off into the dusk, looking extremely odd carrying the large package between them, Harriet leaned on the windowsill, looking out at the grounds, at the dark, rustling treetops of the Forbidden Forest, and the rippling sails of the Durmstrang ship. An eagle owl flew through the coil of smoke rising from Hagrid's chimney; it soared toward the castle, around the Owlery, and out of sight. Looking down, Harriet saw Hagrid digging energetically in front of his cabin. Harriet wondered what he was doing; it looked as though he were making a new vegetable patch. As she watched, Madame Maxime emerged from the Beauxbatons carriage and walked over to Hagrid. She appeared to be trying to engage him in conversation. Hagrid leaned upon his spade, but did not seem keen to prolong their talk, because Madame Maxime returned to the carriage shortly afterward. Unwilling to go back to Gryffindor Tower and listen to Ron and Hermione snarling at each other, Harriet watched Hagrid digging until the darkness swallowed her and the owls around Harriet began to awake, swooshing past her into the night.