AUTHORS NOTE! :P
Hello my lovelies :D
Thanks for all the reviews, and the favorites, and the alerts :)
Oh guess what? :O
MY GAELIC TEAM WON THE FINAL! whoop! :D and it's the first time in 6 years that our team won it! :D
anyways, now I shall answer some reviews...
SevLoverKat: thanks :D
max artemis potter: that won't be long now...
jdr ride: haha thanks :) I know but they'll be around before the end of the story :)
AnikaandAj: Oh my gosh I love that show! I haven't seen in in years! including this chapter, there are 6 chapters left until the second task, I think. and 3 until the yule ball.
florafan199914: i knew i got that math wrong... thanks :)
Annie Bell: seriously? I thought I wrote her birthday... anyway, lets just say that Max's birthday is on the 15th of July...
EVERYONE, MAX'S BIRTHDAY IS ON THE 15TH OF JULY! thanks, Annie :)
Pyro and Darnet co: there will be an article, but not one just about Max and Ethan. It will be in a few chapters, like 2 or 3 I can't remember, but it will be before the Yule Ball.
Bethzilla: thanks :) that's one of the reasons I didn't want Max in the tournament, because I wanted people to see at least one of the tasks from a different point of view. all of the tasks are going to be in a different POV.
and thanks to everyone else that reviewed, and for all the favorites and alerts and so on.
Can we get 200 reviews before the Yule Ball? It's in 2 chapters! So get reviewing! :D
Enjoy the chapter guys :)
-Rach ;)
Max's POV
That evening, me, Harry, Ron, Fang, Hermione and Iggy made our way up to the Owlery to send a letter to Sirius, telling him everything that happened in the first-task, with bits written from each of us. Mine and Harry's paragraphs were the longest, but when I started writing I couldn't stop. I told him everything about the task, in detail, and then I told him about the Erasers, but I added that he shouldn't worry. Fat chance of that happening.
On the way to the Owlery me and Harry filled Ron, Fang and Iggy in on what Sirius told us about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first to hear that Karkaroff had once been a Death Eater, by the time we reached the Owlery, Ron and Iggy were saying that they ought to have suspected it all along.
"Fit's doesn't it?" Ron said. "Remember what Malfoy was saying on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they met each other."
"They were probably running around together at the World Cup," Iggy said. "I'll say one thing though, Harry, if Karkaroff did put your name in the goblet, I bet he's feeling pretty stupid now. Didn't work, did it? You only got a small scratch!"
"What owl are you going to use? You can have Stygian if you want," Fang said as I called down Freedom. I had my own letter to send to the Gasman and Angel. Freedom landed on my shoulder and nipped my neck affectionately. I stroked his wings and turned back to look at the others.
"Sure, thanks. Just let me get the letter-" Harry started but he was cut off when something tiny and fluffy flew right into his face. It was Pigwidgeon. He was flying in front of Harry's face, squeaking excitedly.
"I guess Pig can do it. He seems to want it more then Stygian," Fang said, looking up to Stygian, who was asleep. "Alright," Harry said. As if hearing them, Pig started hooting louder then before and he was flying everywhere, waking up some of the owls. Ron reached up and grabbed Pig and held him still so Harry could attach the letter.
"There's no way the other tasks can be that dangerous. How can they be?" Ron said as he carried Pig over to the window. "You know what? I reckon you could win this, Harry. I'm serious."
I knew he was only saying that to make up for his behavior the last few weeks. I pulled the letter I had written for Angel and Gazzy out of my pocket and tied it to Freedom's leg. It was just a basic letter, briefly describing the first task because I knew that Charlie had already written to Mrs Weasley, and then telling them the other things that are happening in Hogwarts, telling them about the Erasers but making it very clear that they haven't been seen since and that no one was hurt. I asked how they were, how Mr and Mrs Weasley were, and I asked them how annoying Percy was being. I had a feeling that Gazzy was having a bit too much fun driving Percy crazy and making bombs.
"Make sure to get a reply," I said to Freedom before throwing him from the window.
"You know Ron," Hermione said seriously, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, "Harry has a long way to go before the end of this tournament. If that was how dangerous the first task was, then I'd hate to see what's coming next."
"Ever the optimist, aren't you Hermione?" Iggy said, leaning against the wall beside her.
"You and Trelawney should get together sometime," Ron said, throwing Pig out of the window. Pig plummeted about twelve feet before managing to flap his wings hard enough that he pulled himself back again; the letter on his leg seemed to be heavier then usual. I looked at Harry and we both snickered. Maybe we shouldn't have written so much.
We watched Pig disappear into the darkness, then Fang said, "We better go. There's a surprise party for you downstairs, Harry. Fred and George must have taken enough food from the kitchens by now."
We all stared at him.
"What?" he asked, looking at each of us. "What did I do?"
"You talked. A lot," I said, gaping at him.
"Oh ha-ha," he deadpanned, walking out of the Owlery. We snickered before following him out.
And sure enough, when we walked into the common room, we were welcomed by an explosion of yells and cheers. There were mountains of cakes and butterbeer and pumpkin juice on every surface; Lee had set off some Filibuster's Fireworks so that the air was thick with stars and sparks. Dean and Nudge, who were both very good at drawing, had drawn some impressive banners, some of them with just Harry's face, and others with Harry zooming around the Horntail on his Firebolt, and another one of Cedric's head on fire, and hung them around the room. I only knew it was Nudge and Dean because Nudge was saying to anyone who was listening "Look what I drew! And Dean did that one! And I did that one! But Dean drew that one, and I did that one..."
The six of us helped ourselves to food, then sat down together, and a few minutes later Nudge sat down with us. "Blimey, Harry, this is heavy," Lee said, picking up the golden egg which Harry had left on the table, and weighing it in his hands. "Open it Harry, go on! Let's see what's in it!"
"He's supposed to figure out the clue on his own," Hermione said. "It's the tournament rules."
"I was supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on my own too," Harry muttered so only me and Hermione could hear him. We both grinned, me grinning smugly and Hermione grinning guiltily.
"Yeah, go on Harry! Open it!" several people called.
Lee passed the golden egg to Harry, who dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and prised it open.
It was hollow and completely empty- but as soon as Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing filled the room. The nearest thing to it that I've heard was when the whitecoats would drag the surgical instruments along the metal operating tables, just for the pleasure of seeing us wince from the noise before they actually touched us.
"Shut it!" I shouted.
"What as that?" Seamus asked, staring at the egg as Harry's closed it. "Sounded like a banshee...Maybe you've got to get passed one of them next, Harry!"
"It was someone being tortured!" Neville, who had gone as white as a sheet and spilled all his sausage rolls onto the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"
"Don't be a prat Neville, that's illegal," said George, and I saw Neville turn his head, but he wasn't fast enough to hide his wince. Well, fast enough to hide it from me. I wonder why Neville was so touchy about the Cruciatus Curse? "They won't do the Cruciatus Cruse on the champions. I thought it sounded like Percy singing...maybe you have to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry?"
"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" Fred asked, holding one out for her.
Hermione looked at the tart as if it would bite her. I didn't blame her- never accept anything Fred and George give you, you could end up turning into a frog or something. You have been warned.
"It's alright," he prompted, "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch out for-"
Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, chocked and spat it out. Fred laughed. "Just my little joke, Neville."
Hermione took the jam tart. I stared at her with wide eyes, shocked, but she just shrugged. Then she asked, "Did you get all these from the kitchens, Fred?"
"Yep," he said, sitting in a chair in front of us, with George beside him. Fred then put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. "`Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' Dead helpful... They'd get me a roast ox if I told them I was peckish."
"How do you get in there?" Hermione asked in an innocently casual voice.
"Easy," Fred said, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear and it giggles like mad-" he stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Why?"
"Just wondering," Hermione said, a bit too quickly.
"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" George said. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and start a rebellion with them?"
Several people laughed, but Hermione didn't answer.
"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" Fred said warningly. "You'll put them off they're cooking!"
Just then, Neville caused a slight distraction by turning into a large canary.
"Oh-sorry, Neville," Fred shouted over all the laughter, "I forget- it was the custard creams we hexed."
Withing another minute, however, Neville had molted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he turned back into himself, perfectly normal. He even jpined in the laughing.
"Canary creams!" Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them- seven Sickles each, a bargain!"
It was nearly one in the morning when I went up to my dormitory with Hermione. Lavender and Parvarti were still in the common room. I sat down on my bed, got my guitar and played one of my favorite songs Misery Business by Paramore. (AN: I know that song wasn't written when this story is set, but when it comes to songs and clothes its all modern but with everything else, it's the same as what it was like when this story is set. thanks)singing it quietly under my breath so I wouldn't disturb Hermione. But before I could finish the song, Hermione suddenly turned to me and said, "How does it not bother you?"
"A lot of things bother me, Hermione, and a lot of things don't bother me. You're going to have to be specific," I said, plucking at the strings.
"The house-elves. How they don't have any freedom," Hermione said.
"Look, I get why this means a lot to you. But you keep forgetting that the house-elves are happy the way things are. If you want to change anything about the house-elves, make it your dream to make a law where the people who own house-elves can't abuse them," I said.
"That can be what you want to do, but I'm going to get them salaries and proper freedom," Hermione said, her eyes flashing dangerously in the dark. Then what she said registered in my mind.
"Wait, why should it actually bother me? You've never asked that before," I said, putting the guitar down beside my bed.
"Well, I would of thought that you more then anyone would want all types of creatures to have freedom," Hermione said, not looking me in the eyes.
"Why would you think that?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Because of your past. The School and everything. I just would of thought that because you were trapped in a cage your whole childhood that you would want every creature to have freedom, and not go through that," Hermione said.
I sighed. "Hermione, that's not the same thing. We were raised in cages, where we had no freedom whatsoever, and we had experiments done on us nearly every day. It's so not the same thing. House-elves are happy with what they have to do. It's their job. They don't want a salary, or a pension or a holiday. They just want their masters to be happy."
"I know that, but it's wrong. They've never had salaries, or anything like that, so they don't know what their missing. If I could just talk to them..." she trailed off.
"Whenever you do talk to them, you'll see that their happy, and them let this whole spew thing go," I said, changing into my pyjamas.
"It's not spew. I'ts S.P.E.W," I heard Hermione whisper as she closed her curtains around her bed. I grinned and went into bed.
As soon as my head touched the pillow, I fell straight to sleep.
As December started, it brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. It was always cold during the winter in Hogwarts, but I was grateful for it's fires and thick walls every time I passed the Durmstrang ship in the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, it's black sails billowing against the dark skies. The Beauxbaton caravan was likely to be cold too. I also noticed that Hagrid seemed to be keeping very good care of Madame Maxime's horses, and was providing them with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the paddock was enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This wasn't really helpful, seeing as we were still tending with the horrible skrewts and we all needed to have a clear head.
"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip...we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes..."
There were now only ten skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them were now approaching six feet in length and their thick gray armor just made them the most repulsive things I've ever seen. The class were looking dispiritedly at the enormous boxes that Hagrid brought out with him, all lined with pillows and fluffy pillows.
"Well jus' leave 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, an' we'll see what happens."
But a few minutes later, we all learned that skrewts did not hibernate, and did not like being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid was soon yelling, "Don't panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class- Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in the lead (surprise, surprise) had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; me, Harry, Fang, Ron, Iggy and Hermione, however, were among those who remained outside to try and help Hagrid. Together, we managed to restrain and tie up nine of the skrewts, though we all got numerous cuts and burns in the process; finally, only one skrewt was left.
"Don' frighten him now!" Hagrid shouted at the six of us used our wands to shot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, which was advancing menacingly on them, it's sting arched, quivering, over it's back. "Jus' try an' slip the rope round his sting, so he won' hurt any o' the others!"
"Yeah, cause that would be freaking tragic!" I shouted angrily as me and Harry backed into the wall of Hagrid's cabin, still holding the skrewt off with our sparks.
"Well, well, well, this does look fun."
Rita Skeeter was leaning against Hagrid's garden fence, looking in at the mayhem. She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar, and her crocodile skin handbag clutched in her arm.
Hagrid launched himself forward on top of the skrewt that was cornering me and Harry and flattened it; a blast of fire shot from it's end, withering some of the pumpkins nearby.
"Who're you?" he asked Skeeter as he slipped a loop of rope around the skrewts sting and tightened it.
"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Skeeter said, beaming.
"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the grounds anymore," Hagrid said, frowning. Rita acted as if Hagrid hadn't spoken. "What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked, beaming even wider.
"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid grunted.
"Really?" Skeeter said, apparently full of interest. "I've never heard of them before. Where are they from?"
I noticed a dull red flush rising up on Hagrid's face and resisted the urge to face palm myself. Where did Hagrid get the skrewts? Hermione, who seemed to be thinking along the same thoughts as me, and apparently Harry, said quickly, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Harry?"
"What? Oh yeah...interesting," he said.
"Ah, you're here Harry!" Skeeter said as she looked around. And when she saw Harry, she saw me. She looked as if it was the best day in her life. "And you're Maximum Ride, am I right? Would you say that Care of Magical Creatures was one of your favorite classes, Maximum?" she asked.
Why the hell does she care about me? I thought, frowning.
Without thinking once about it, I said, "Yes. Hagrid's a brilliant teacher." Hagrid beamed at me.
"Lovely. Really lovely," Skeeter said. She turned to Hagrid and asked, "Been teaching long?"
I noticed her eyes travel over Fang, who had a nasty cut along his cheek, to Lavender, whose robes were badly singed, to Iggy, who was nursing several burnt fingers (but he was used to them because of all the bombs he makes, so it was no biggie) and then on myself and Harry, and we were both dirty and had loads of bleeding cuts on our faces and arms. Then she looked to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood with their noses pressed against the window, waiting to see if the coast was clear. Wimps.
"Only me second year," Hagrid said.
"Lovely...I don't suppose you'd like to give me an interview, would you? Share some of your experience with magical creatures? The prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these- er- Blast-Ended Scoots."
"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said eagerly. "Er- why not?"
Skeeter nodded, then looked once again at the people still outside. She walked closer to Fang and she said, "And you are Fang Martinez, yes?" Fang nodded, not saying a word. "Lovely," she said, then she looked around again. She walked over to Iggy and said, "And you must be Iggy Griffiths?" Iggy nodded. "That's me," he said, but he didn't smile. Skeeter smiled again, then looked back at me. There was something about the way she looked at me I didn't like, but I couldn't tell what it was. She winked at me then turned back to Hagrid.
I had a bad feeling about this, but there was no way to saying anything to Hagri with Skeeter right there, so I stood in silence as Hagrid and Skeeter made plans to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a nice, long interview later that week. Then the bell rang up at the castle, signalling the end of the lesson.
"Well good-bye Maximum, and Harry!" Skeeter called merrily as we set of with the others. "Until Friday, then Hagrid."
"She'll twist everything he says," Harry said under his breath.
"Just as long as he didn't import those skrewts illegally," Hermione said desperately. We looked at one another- It was exactly the kind of thing that Hagrid would do.
"Well, he's screwed," Iggy said.
"Hagrid's been in loads of trouble and Dumbledore's never sacked him," Ron said consolingly. "Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll gave to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry...did I say worse? I meant best."
We laughed, and feeling slightly more cheerful, went off for lunch. "What I don't get, is why Skeeter was paying more attention to you us then to Harry," Fang said. "I was wondering about that myself," I muttered.
"I doubt it was anything. She's probably just going to write our names in the next article about Harry," Iggy said. Harry winced at the thought of another article, and we all laughed again.
For once in my life, I actually enjoyed Divination that afternoon. We were still doing star charts and predictions, but now that we were all friends once more, it was all funny again. Professor Trelawney, who had been so pleased with the five of us when we had been predicting our own horrific deaths, quickly became irritated as we sniggered through her explanation of how Pluto could disrupt everyday life.
"I would think," she said in a mystical whisper that did not conceal her obvious annoyance, "that some of us-" she stared meaningfully at the five of us, "might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it and I gazed into it's crystalline depths...and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?"
"An ugly old bat in over-sized glasses?" I muttered under my breath.
The others fought to keep their faces straight.
"Death, my dears."
Parvarti and Lavender both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified.
"Yes," Trelawney said, nodding impressively, "it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower... ever lower to the castle..."
She stared pointedly at us, but mostly at Harry, who yawned very widely and obviously.
"It'd be a bit more impressive if she hadn't done it about eighty time before," Harry said as we finally regained the fresh air of the staircase beneath Trelawney's room. "But if I'd dropped dead every time she's told me I'm going to, I'd be a medical miracle."
"You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost," Ron said, chortling as we passed the Bloody Baron in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly. "At least we didn't get homework. I hope Hermione got loads from Professor Vector. I love not working when she is..."
But Hermione wasn't at dinner, or in the library when we went there to look for her. The only person there was Krum. Ron hovered behind the bookshelves for a while, debating in whispers whether or not he should ask Krum from an autograph- but then Ron noticed about seven or eight girls on the other side of the library debating the same thing and he lost his enthusiasm for the idea.
"I wonder where she's gone," I said as we walked back to Gryffindor Tower.
"Dunno...balderdash," Harry said to the Fat Lady.
But the Fat Lady had barely begun to swing forward when the sound of racing feet behind us announced Hermione's arrival.
"Harry!" she panted, skidding to a halt beside us (the Fat Lady stared down at her, eyebrows raised). "Harry, you've got to come- you've got to come, the most amazing things happened- please-"
She grabbed Harry's arm and started dragging him back down the corridor.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked.
"I'll show you when we get there- oh come on, quick-"
Harry looked at us over his shoulder. We looked back at him, intrigued.
"Okay," Harry said, looking really confused. We hurried after them.
"Oh, don't mind me!" the Fat Lady shouted as we ran down the corridor. "Don't apologize for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open, until you get back, shall I?"
"Yeah, thanks!" I shouted over my shoulder.
"Hermione, where are we going?" Iggy asked after Hermione led us down six floors, and started down the marble staircase into the entrance hall.
"You'll see in a minute!" Hermione said excitedly.
She turned left at the bottom of the stairs and hurried toward the door I recognized as the one the Hufflepuffs came up from for breakfast. We'd never been down here before. We followed Hermione down a flight of steps, but instead of ending up in a gloomy corridor like the one that led to Snape's dungeon, we found ourselves in a broad stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with paintings mainly of food.
"Oh hang on..." I said slowly, halfway down the corridor. "Wait a minute. Hermione-"
"What?" she turned around to look at me, anticipation all over her face.
"I know what this is about," I said. I nudged Ron, who was beside me and pointed to the painting behind Hermione. It showed a gigantic silver fruit bowl.
"Hermione!" Ron said. "You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!"
"No, no, I'm not!" she said hastily. "And it's not spew, Ron-"
"Changed the name, have you?" Ron said, frowning at her. "What are we now then, the House-Elf Liberation Front? I'm not charging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it-"
"I'm not asking you to!" Hermione said impatiently. "I came down here just now, just to talk to them all and I found- oh, come on Harry, I want to show you!"
She went up to the painting of the fruit and tickled the pear. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a huge green door handle. Hermione seized it, pulled the door open and pushed us inside.
I caught one brief glance at an enormous, high-ceilinged room, the same size as the Great Hall above us, with hundreds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls and a great brick fireplace at the other end of the room, when something small hurtled passed me from the inside of the room, squealing, "Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!"
I looked around to see Dobby the house-elf with his skinny arms wrapped tightly around Harry's stomach.
"D-Dobby?" Harry gasped.
"It is Dobby sir, it is!" squealed Dobby. "Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!"
Dobby let go of Harry and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at Harry, his enormous green eyes brimming with tears of happiness. He looked exactly the same as how he looked two years ago, the last time I saw him; his pencil-shaped nose, the batlike ears, the long fingers and feet- all except the clothes, which were very different.
When Dobby had been working for the Malfoy's, he was always wearing the same old filthy pillowcase.
Now, however, he was wearing the strangest assortment of clothes I had ever seen. He had done an ever worse job of dressing himself then the wizards at the World Cup. For one thing, he was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, on which he had pinned loads of badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what could of been children's soccer short that wouldn't even fit Angel, and odd socks. One sock was black and old, I had the feeling that it was the one Harry had tricked Mr Malfoy into giving Dobby, freeing him. The other one was covered in pink and orange stripes.
"Dobby, what're you doing here?" I asked in amazement.
"Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!" Dobby squealed excitedly. "Professor Dumbledore has given Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!"
"Winky?" said Harry. "She's here too?"
"Yes, sir, yes!" Dobby said. He seized Harry's hand and pulled him off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables. We followed after them. As we walked passed the tables, I noticed that each of the tables were exactly underneath the four House tables above, in the Great Hall. Now, they were clear of food, dinner having finished, but I suppose an hour ago they had been laden with dishes that were sent up through the ceiling to the tables above.
There were at least a hundred little house-elves standing in the kitchen, beaming and bowing to us as we followed Dobby and Harry. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest and tied, like Winky's was, like a toga.
Dobby stopped in front of the fireplace and pointed. "Winky, sir!" he said.
Winky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a little skirt and shirt with a matching blue hat, which had holes in them for her large ears. However, while every one of Dobby's strange clothes were so clean and well cared for that they looked brand new, Winky was clearly not taking care of her clothes at all (not that I'm one to say much). There were soup stains all over her shirt and there was a burn in her skirt.
"Hi Winky," I said kindly, smiling at her. The lost look in her eyes reminded me of some of the other experiments at the School that had barely lasted over a week.
Winky's lip quivered. Then she burst into tears, which spilled out of her great brown eyes and splashed down her front.
"Oh dear," Hermione said. "Winky, don't cry, please don't..."
But Winky just started crying harder then before. Dobby, on the other hand, just beamed at us.
"Would Harry Potter and his friends care for tea?" he squeaked loudly, over Winky's sobs.
"Er-yeah, okay," Harry said.
As soon as the words left his mouth, six house-elves came up behind us, carrying a large tray that had a teapot, six cups for us, a milk jug, and biscuits.
"Good service!" Iggy said, impressed. Hermione frowned at him, but the elves looked delighted. They bowed again and walked off.
"How long have you been here, Dobby?" Harry asked, handing around the tea.
"Just one week, Harry Potter sir," Dobby said happily. "Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very hard for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult-"
At this, Winky howled even louder, her squashed-tomato shaped nose dribbling all down her front, though she made no effort to stem the flow. "Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work!" Dobby squeaked. "But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!"
The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been watching and listening with interest, all looked away at Dobby's words as though Dobby had said something rude and embarrassing. Hermione, however, beamed and said, "Good for you, Dobby!"
"Thank you, miss!" Dobby said, smiling toothily at her. "But most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. `That's not the points of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face. Dobby likes work, but he wants to be paid and wear proper clothes. Harry Potter... Dobby likes being free!"
The Hogwarts house-elves had now started edging away from Dobby, as if he was carrying something contagious. Winky, however, stayed where she was, but there was a definite increase in the volume of her sobbing.
"And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out that Winky has been set free too, sir!" Dobby said delightedly.
At this, Winky threw herself forward off her stool and lay face-down on the flagged stone floor, beating her tiny fists on the floor and positively screaming in misery. Hermione hastily dropped down onto her knees beside her and tried to comfort her, but nothing she said made the slightest difference. Dobby continued with his story, shouting shrilly over Winky's screeches.
"And then Dobby had an idea, Harry Potter, sir! `Why doesn't Winky and Dobby work together?' Dobby says. `Where is there enough work for two house-elves?' says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him, sir! Hogwarts! So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!" Dobby beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in his eyes again.
"And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"
"That's not very much!" Hermione shouted indignantly from the floor, over Winky's continued screaming.
"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week and weekends off," Dobby said, suddenly giving a little shiver, as though the prospect of so much leisure were frightening, "but Dobby beat him down, miss... Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better."
"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?" Hermione asked kindly.
If Hermione thought that this would cheer up Winky, she was wrong. It did stop Winky crying, but when she sat up she was glaring at Hermione through her massive brown eyes, her face suddenly furious.
"Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" she squeaked angrily. "Winky has not sunk as low as that! Winky is ashamed of being freed!"
"Ashamed?" Hermione said blankly. "But- Winky, come on! It's Mr. Crouch that should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you-"
But at these words, Winky clapped her hands over her ears so she couldn't hear a word being said and screeched, "You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!"
"Winky is having trouble adjusting, sirs and misses," Dobby said, addressing all of us, "Winky forgets that she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it."
"Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters then?" Fang asked.
"Oh no, sir, no," Dobby said, suddenly looking very serious. "Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keep their secrets and our silence, sir. We uphold the family's honor, and we never speak ill of them- though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to- to-"
Dobby looked suddenly nervous and beckoned us closer. We bent forward. Dobby whispered, "He said we is free to call him a- a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!" Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle, looking as if he couldn't believe he actually said it. "But Dobby isn't wanting to, Harry Potter," he said, speaking normally again. "Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him."
"But you can say what you like about the Malfoy's now?" I asked, grinning.
A slightly frightful look came into Dobby's eyes. "Dobby- Dobby could, miss," he said. He took a deep breath, and squared his skinny shoulders. "Dobby could tell Harry Potter and his friends that his old masters were- were bad, Dark Masters."
Dobby stood for a moment, quivering all over, horror-struck by his own daring- then he rushed over to the nearest table and began banging his head on it very hard, squealing, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
Harry jumped forward and seized Dobby by the back of his tie and pulled him away from the table.
"Thank you, Harry Potter, thank you," Dobby said breathlessly, rubbing his head.
"You just need a bit of practice," Harry said, grinning kindly.
"Practice!" squealed Winky furiously. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!"
"They isn't my masters anymore, Winky," said Dobby defiantly. "Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!"
"Oh, you is a bad elf, Dobby!" moaned Winky, tears leaking down her face again. "My poor Mr. Crouch, what is he doing without Winky? He is needing me, he is needing my help! I is looking after the Crouches all my life, and my mother is doing it before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her...oh what is they saying if they knew Winky was freed? Oh, the shame, the shame!" she buried her face in her shirt again and bawled.
"Winky," Hermione said firmly, "I'm sure Mr. Crouch is getting along perfectly well without you. We've seen him, you know-"
"You is seeing my master?" said Winky breathlessly, raising her tearstained face out of her skirt once more and gaping at Hermione. "You is seeing him here at Hogwarts?"
"Yeah," Iggy said, "he and Mr Bagman are judges in the Triwizard Tournament."
"Mr Bagman comes here too?" squeaked Winky, and to my surprise, she looked angry again. "Mr Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn't liking him, oh no, not at all!"
"Bagman- bad?" Fang said. A man of many words.
"Oh yes," Winky said, nodding furiously. "My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying! Winky- Winky keeps her masters secrets..."
She dissolved into tears once again. It was reminding me too much of the School, of the creatures that would cry for hours, but then when they realized that no one was saving them, that they were going to die, they'd just sit in silence until they did die. I shuddered. Harry saw, and he gave me a questioning look. I just shook my head. Harry frowned, but he turned back to Winky to hear her sobbing, "Poor master, poor master, no Winky to help him anymore!"
We couldn't get another sensible word out of Winky. We left her crying and finished our tea, while Dobby chatted happily about his life as a free elf and his plans for his wages.
"Dobby is going to buy a sweater next, Harry Potter!" he said happily, pointing to his bare chest.
"Tell you what, Dobby," said Ron, who seemed to like the elf. "I'll give you the one my mum knits me this Christmas, I always get one from her. You don't mind maroon, do you?" Dobby was delighted.
"We'll have to shrink it a bit for you," I told him, "but it'll go well with your tea cozy."
As we prepared to leave, many of the surrounding elves pressed in on us, offering snacks to take back upstairs. Hermione refused, with a pained look at the way the elves kept bowing and curtsying, but the rest of us loaded our pockets with cream cakes and pies.
"Thanks!" Harry called over his shoulder to the elves, who had all crowded around the door to say goodnight. "See you Dobby!"
"Harry Potter...can Dobby come see you sometimes, sir?" Dobby asked shyly.
"Course you can," Harry said without hesitation. Dobby beamed.
"Dobby is awesome," Iggy said the moment the door closed behind us. "And so is this food," he added as he stuffed three cream cakes into his mouth at once.
"You know what?" Ron said, "all these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George for managing to steal all that food from the kitchens- well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!"
"I think this is the best thing to happen to them, you know," Hermione said, leading the way up the stairs in the entrance hall. "Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it will dawn on them that they want to be free too!"
"That'll be hard when Winky is there too," I said.
"Oh, she'll cheer up," Hermione said, though she seemed a bit doubtful. "Once the shocks worn off, and she's got used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouch man."
"She seems to love him," Iggy said thickly, eating his eighth cream cake.
"Doesn't think too much about Bagman though, does she?" Harry said. "Wonder what Crouch says about him?"
"Probably says he not a very good Head of Department," said Hermione, "and let's face it...he's got a good point."
"I'd still rather work for him then Crouch," I said. "At least Bagman has a sense of humor."
"Don't let Percy hear you saying that," Hermione smiled.
"Yeah well Percy wouldn't want to work for someone with a sense of humor, would he?" Ron said, eating a chocolate eclair. "Percy wouldn't recognize a good joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy."
Ta-da! Here's the chapter! Hope everyone liked it :)
Okay, so I could possibly be going to the Warner Brother Studio Tour thing in London! Has anyone gone? It looks unreal!
Anyway, can we please try and get 200 reviews by the Yule Ball? I would love you all if that happened :D and I'd update faster!
so, for your cookies and butterbeer, you need to review, so...
REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! :D
lOvE yOu!
-Rach ;)