Poisoned Youth | ✓

9- Welcoming Events

Hermione ran into the common room excitedly. Harry and Ron were doing their divination work, while I read up on Alchemy and pet Crookshanks.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks jumped from my lap and curled up in hers.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily. Harry laid down his quill too and showed me his predictions; he predicted his own death by decapitation.

"Harry— this isn't funny nor believable," I frowned.

"What's in the box?" Harry asked, snatching back the assignment from my hands.

"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron.

She took off the lid and showed us the contents. Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colours, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.

"Is that the spew thing you were getting information about?" I groaned.

" 'Spew'?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course, you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well— if you three join— four," said Hermione.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status— but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

"Hermione, be reasonable. This is how house-elves are," I sighed, looking at the sheet of parchment. "I get you're upset thinking it's slave labour and all, but —"

"No, Iverson, there are no buts! I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione— open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it— Ron had said the wrong thing and I knew Hermione wouldn't allow it.

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our longterm aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures because they're shockingly underrepresented."