In Between Two Worlds (HP/PJO Crossover)

Chapter 145: The Madness of Mr. Crouch.

We all 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. We used Hedwig, because it had been so long since she'd had a job. After we watched her fly out of sight through the Owlery window, we proceeded down to the kitchen to give Dobby his new socks.

The house-elves gave us a very cheery welcome, bowing and curtsying and bustling around making tea again. Dobby was ecstatic about his present.

"Harry Potter and Karlee Black is too good to Dobby!" he squeaked, wiping large tears out of his enormous eyes.

"You saved our lives with that gillyweed, Dobby, you really did," said Harry.

"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 us, supported by four elves.

"Is this where you got all the stuff for Snuffles?" Ron asked me and Bailey.

"Yeah." Bailey said. "It was pretty easy."

"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.

I 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 we watched her, she gave an enormous hiccup.

"Winky is getting through six bottles a day now," Dobby whispered to Harry and I.

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

But Dobby shook his head. "'Tis strong for a house-elf, sir," he said.

Winky hiccuped again. The elves who had brought the eclairs gave her disapproving looks as they returned to work.

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

"Hey, Winky," I said, struck by a sudden inspiration, I walked over to her, and bent 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 me. She swayed slightly again and then said, "M - Master is stopped - hic - coming?"

"Yeah," I 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 me.

"Master - hic - ill?"

Her bottom lip began to tremble.

"But we're not sure if that's true," said Bailey quickly.

"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," 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..."