Chapter 22

Liberty For House-Elves!

KIARA

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I went up to the Owlery that evening to find Piggledon and Harold, so that I could write two letters: one to my grandmothers, and the other to my parents. On the way, I filled Chrissie in on everything my parents had told me about Kula. Though shocked at first to hear that Kula had been a Love Destroyer; by the time we entered the Owlery, Chrissie was saying that we ought to have expected it all along.

"Fits, doesn't it?" she said. When she saw Chris, Sian and I looking at her in confusion, Chrissie added, "Oh, I forgot that we weren't talking. Well, a few weeks ago, I overheard Malty talking to Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley that her mum and Kula knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the Quidditch Friendly ... I'll tell you one thing, though, Kiara, if it was Kula who put your name in the Goblet, she's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't she? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch! Come here - I'll do it - "

Piggledon was so excited at the idea of a delivery; he was flying round and round my head, hooting incessantly. Chrissie snatched Piggledon out of the air and held him still as Chris attached the letter to my parents to his leg, as I attached the letter to my grandmothers to Harold's.

"There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?" Chrissie went on, as she and I carried our owls to the window. "You know what? I reckon you could win this Tournament, Kiara. I'm serious."

I knew that Chrissie was only saying that to make up for her behaviour to me from the night my name was chosen to just after I had completed the first task, but I appreciated it all the same. Chris and Sian, however, were leaning against the wall, their arms folded, both of them frowning at Chrissie.

"Kiara's got a long way to go before she finishes this Tournament," Sian said seriously, "if that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next."

"Sian's right, Chrissie," Chris said. "There's still a long way to go before the Tournament is over and done with."

"Right little rays of sunshine you two are," said Chrissie. "You and Sian should get together some time, Chris."

She threw Piggledon out of the window, at the same time that I let go of Harold. As Harold flew straight on, Piggledon plummeted twelve feet before managing to pull himself back again, because he was much smaller than Harold; the letter attached to his leg was much longer than usual - I hadn't been able to resist giving my parents a blow-by-blow account of exactly how I had swerved, circled and dodged the Horntail. The letter to my grandmothers was slightly larger, too; not only did I put in every detail of how I had fought the Horntail, but before that I also put in the information that my parents had given me about Kula, and their warnings to be wary of her and Outsider.

We watched Piggledon and Harold disappear into the darkness, and then Chrissie said, "Well, we'd better get downstairs for your surprise party, Kiara - Tanya and Geri should've nicked enough food from the kitchens by now."

Sure enough, when we reached the Lion-Heart common room, it exploded with cheers and yells again. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and Butterbeer on every surface; Leah Jones had let off some Dr Filibuster's Fabulous, No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks, so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; and Dena Wright, who was very good at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, most of which depicted me zooming around the Horntail's head on my Firecracker, though a couple showed Georgia with her head on fire.

I helped myself to food; I had almost forgotten what it was like to feel properly hungry, and I sat down with Chris, Sian and Chrissie. I couldn't believe how happy I felt; I had Chrissie back on my side, I'd got through the first task, and I wouldn't have to face the second one for three months.

"Blimey, this is heavy," said Leah Jones, picking up the golden egg, which I had left on a table, and was weighing it in her hands. "Open it, Kiara, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"She's supposed to work out the clue on her own," Sian said swiftly. "It's in the Tournament rules ..."

"I was supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on my own, too," I muttered, so only Chris and Sian could hear me. Chris stifled a chuckle as Sian grinned guiltily.

"Yeah, go on, Kiara, open it!" several people echoed.

Leah passed me the egg, and I dug my fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it, and prized it open.

It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment I opened it, the most horrible noise - a loud and screechy wailing - filled the room. The nearest thing to it I had ever heard was the ghost orchestra at Nearly Headless Nicola's Deathday Party, who had all been playing the musical saw.

"Shut it!" Tanya bellowed, her hands over her ears.

"What was that?" said Zara Finn, staring at the egg as I slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee ... maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Kiara!"

"It was someone being tortured!" said Nikita, who had gone very white, and spilled sausage rolls over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be thick, Nikita, that's illegal," said Geri. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the Champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Perdy singing ... maybe you've got to attack her while she's in the shower, Kiara."

"Want a jam tart, Sian?" said Tanya.

Sian looked doubtfully at the plate she was offering her. Tanya grinned.

"It's all right," she said. "I haven't done anything to harm them. It's the chocolate fingers you've got to watch - "

Nikita, who had just bitten into a chocolate finger, choked and spat it out.

Tanya laughed. "Just my little joke, Nikita."

Sian took a jam tart.

Then she said, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Tanya?"

"Yep," Tanya said, grinning at her. She put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. " "Anything we can get you, miss, anything at all!" They're dead helpful ... get me a roast ham if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Sian said, in an innocently casual sort of voice.

"Easy," said Tanya, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the mango, and it giggles, and - " She stopped, and looked suspiciously at Sian. "Why?"

"No reason," said Sian quickly.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" said Geri. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chortled. Sian didn't answer.

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" said Tanya warningly. "You'll put them off their cooking.

Just then, Nikita caused a slight diversion by sprouting more fingers all over her hands. Several people around her screamed.

"Oh - sorry, Nikita!" Tanya shouted over all the screams. "I forgot - it was the chocolate fingers we hexed - "

Within seconds, however, the other fingers fell off Nikita's hands and fell to the floor, smashing into crumbs. People screamed again, but after the shock of Nikita's extra fingers falling off and seeing Nikita with her original fingers and two thumbs still intact, laughter started to emerge, although most of it was relieved laughter rather than humorous.

"Further Funny Fingers!" Tanya shouted to the rather excitable crowd. "Geri and I invented them - seven Sickles each, bargain!"

It was nearly one in the morning when I finally went up to the dormitory with Sian, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida. Before I pulled the curtains of my four-poster shut, I set my tiny model of the Hungarian Horntail on the table next to my bed, where it yawned, curled up and closed its eyes. Really, I thought, as I pulled the hangings on my four-poster closed, Mina had a point ... they were all right, really, dragons.

0000

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Dragon Mort that year. Draughty though the castle always was in winter, I was glad of its fires and thick walls every time I passed the Uagadou submarine on the river, which was pitching in the high winds, silver streaks of light emanating off it when it moved against these winds, more resolute in the dark skies. I thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to have been pretty chilly, too. Mina, I noticed, had kept Monsieur Legrand's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whisky; the fumes wafting from their trough in the corner of their paddock were enough to make my Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. It was unhelpful, because we were still tending to the horrid Crabs, and we needed our wits about us.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Mina told us in the windy pumpkin patch, our first lesson in December. "thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip ... we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes ..."

There were only ten Crabs left now; apparently their desire to kill each other had not been exercised out of them. Each of them was approaching six feet in length. Their thick black armour, their powerful, scuttling legs and big pound of thrashing muscle, which could also shoot fire, their claws and their horns, combined to make the Crabs the most repulsive things I have ever seen in my entire life so far. We all looked dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Mina had brought out, all lined up with pillows and fluffy blankets.

"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Mina said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

But the Crabs, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Mina was yelling "Don' panic, now, don' panic!", while the Crabs rampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smouldering and crushed wreckage of the boxes. Most of us - Malty, Crate, Gabber and Rae-Bradley in the lead - had fled into Mina's cabin through the backdoor and barricaded themselves in; Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, however, were among those who remained outside, trying to help Mina. Together we managed to restrain and tie up nine of the Crabs, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally, only one Crab was left.

"Don' frighten him, now!" Mina shouted, as Chris, Chrissie and I used our wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the Crab, which was advancing menacingly on us, its giant pound of muscle raised, quivering, over its back. "Jus' try an' slip the rope round his muscle, so he won' hurt any o' the others!"

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!" Chrissie shouted angrily, as she, Chris and I backed into the wall of Mina's cabin, still holding the Crab off with our sparks.

"Well, well, well ... this does look like fun!"

Peter Meter was leaning on Mina's garden fence, looking in at the mayhem. He was wearing a thick burgundy cloak with a furry blood-red collar that day, and his crocodile-skin satchel was over his shoulder.

Mina launched herself forward on top of the Crab that was cornering Chris, Chrissie and I and flattened it; a blast of fire shot out of its end at the exact same time that its ends crashed down to the ground, withering the pumpkin plants nearby, as well as causing a crater in the earth.

"Who're you?" Mina asked Peter Meter, as she slipped a loop of rope around the Crab's muscle and tightened it.

"Peter Meter, Daily Squabbler reporter," Peter replied, beaming at her. His gold teeth glinted.

"Thought Crighton said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore?" said Mina, frowning slightly, as she got off the slightly squashed Crab and started tugging it over to its fellows.

Peter acted as though he hadn't heard what Mina had said.

"What are these fascinating creatures called?" he asked, beaming still more widely.

"Shudder-Ended Crabs," grunted Mina.

"Really?" said Peter, apparently full of lively interest. "I've never heard of them before ... where do they come from?"

I saw a dull red flush creeping up on Mina's cheeks, and my heart sank. Where had Mina got the Crabs from?

Sian, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, said quickly, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Kiara?"

"What? Oh, yeah ... ouch ... interesting," I said, as she stepped on my foot.

"Ah, you're here, Kiara!" said Peter Meter, as he looked around. "So, you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favourite lessons?"

"Yes," I said stoutly. Mina beamed at me.

"Lovely," said Peter. "Really lovely. Been teaching long?" he added to Mina.

I noticed his eyes travel over Dena (who had a nasty cut across one cheek), Larry (whose robes were badly singed), Zara (who was nursing several slightly-crushed fingers), and then to the cabin windows, where most of my class stood, their noses pressed against the glass, waiting to see if the coast was clear.

"This is on'y me second year," said Mina.

"Lovely ... I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Squabbler does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these - er - Sharper-Ended Crooks."

"Shudder-Ended Crabs," Mina said eagerly. "Er - yeah, why not?"

I had a very bad feeling about that interview (which I had every right to be), but there was no way of communicating it to Mina without Peter Meter seeing, so I had to stand and watch in silence as Peter Meter and Mina made arrangements to meet in the Flying Owls for a good long interview later that week. Then the bell rang up at the castle, signalling the end of the lesson.

"Well, goodbye, Kiara!" Peter Meter called merrily to me, as I set off with Chris, Sian and Chrissie. "Until Friday night, then, Mina?"

"He'll twist everything she says," I said under my breath.

"Just as long as she didn't import those Crabs illegally or anything," said Sian desperately. We looked at each other - it was exactly the sort of thing Mina might do.

"Mina's been in loads of trouble before, and Ma's never sacked her," said Chris consolingly. "Worst that can happen is Mina'll have to get rid of the Crabs. Sorry ... did I say worst? I mean best."

Sian, Chrissie and I laughed, and, feeling slightly more cheerful, the four of us set off to lunch.

I thoroughly enjoyed double Divination that afternoon; we were continuing with star charts and predictions, but seeing that Chrissie and I were friends once more, the whole thing seemed very funny again. Professor Crystals, who had been so pleased with the pair of us when we had been predicting our own horrible deaths, quickly became irritated as we sniggered through his explanation of the various ways in which Pluto could disrupt everyday life.

"I would think," he said in a mystical whisper that did not conceal his obvious annoyance, "that some of us - " he stared very meaningfully at me - "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 knitting, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, settled myself before it, and gazed into its crystalline depths ... and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?"

"An ugly old bat in outsize specs?" Chrissie muttered under her breath.

I fought to keep my face straight.

"Death, my dears."

Patrick and Larry both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified.

"Yes,! said Professor Crystals, nodding impressively, "it comes ever closer; it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower ... ever lower over this castle ..."

He then stared very pointedly at me. All I did was yawn very widely and obviously.

"It'd be a bit more impressive if he hadn't done it about eighty times before," I said, as we finally regained the fresh air of the staircase beneath Professor Crystals' room. "But if I'd dropped dead every time he's told me I'm going to die, I'd be a medical miracle."

"You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost," said Chrissie, chortling, as we passed the Bloody Baroness going in the opposite direction, her wide eyes staring sinisterly. "At least we didn't get any homework. I'm not bothered if Chris got any, but I hope Sian got loads in Ancient Runes; I love not working when she is ..."

We saw Chris at dinner, but to our surprise, Sian wasn't there with him. When we asked Chris where she was, he said he didn't know. We couldn't find her at the library either, though we did spot Kopa's head look up when he saw us, but look back down again in disappointment when he saw that Sian wasn't with us. Kovu Outsider was sat next to him. Chrissie hovered behind the bookshelves for a while, watching Outsider, debating in whispers with Chris and I whether she should ask for an autograph - but then Chrissie realised that six or seven girls were lurking in the next row of books, debating exactly the same thing, and she lost her enthusiasm for the idea.

"Wonder where she's got to?" Chris said, as he, Chrissie and I went back to Lion-Heart Tower.

"Dunno ..." I said, "Balderdash."

But the Fat Lord had barley begun to swing forwards, when the sound of racing feet behind us announced Sian's arrival.

"Kiara!" she panted, skidding to a halt beside me (the Fat Lord stard down at her, eyebrows raised). "Kiara, you've got to come - you've got to come, the most amazing thing's happened - please - "

She seized my arm and started to try and drag me back along the corridor.

"What's the matter?" I said.

"I'll show you when we get there - oh, come on, quick - "

I looked around at Chris and Chrissie; they both looked back at me, intrigued.

"OK," I said, starting off back down the corridor with Sian, Chris and Chrissie hurrying to keep up.

"Oh, don't mind me!" the Fat Lord called irritably after us. "Don't apologise for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open, until you get back, shall I?"

"Yeah, thanks," Chrissie shouted over her shoulder.

"Sian, where are we going?" I asked, after she had led us down through six floors, and started down the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall.

"You'll see, you'll see in a minute!" Sian said excitedly.

She turned left at the bottom of the staircase, and hurried towards the door through which Georgia Diggs had gone through the night after the Goblet of Fire had regurgitated my name and hers. I had never been down there before this moment. Chris, Chrissie and I followed Sian down a flight of stone steps, but instead of ending up in a gloomy underground passage like the one that led to Triphorm's dungeon, we found ourselves in a broad, stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food.

"Oh, hang on ..." I said slowly, halfway down the corridor. "Wait a minute, Sian ..."

"What?" She turned around to look at me, anticipation all over her face.

"I know what this is about," I said.

I nudged Chris and Chrissie, and pointed to the painting just behind Sian. It showed a gigantic gold fruit-bowl.

Chris and Chrissie both cottoned on then, as Chris said, "Sian! You're trying to rope us into that hame stuff again!"

"No, no, I'm not!" she said hastily. "And it's not hame, Rickers - "

"Changed the name, have you?" said Chrissie, frowning at her. "What are we now, then, Liberty for House-Elves? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop working, I'm not doing it - "

"I'm not asking you to!" Sian said impatiently. "I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found - oh, come on, Kiara, I want to show you!"

She seized my arm and pulled me in front of the giant fruit-bowl, stretched out her forefinger and tickled the huge yellow mango. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large yellow door handle. Sian seized it, pulled the door open, and pushed me hard in the back, forcing me inside.

I had one brief glimpse of an enormous, high-ceilinged room, large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, when something small hurtled towards me from the middle of the room, squealing, "Kiara Pride-Lander, miss! Kiara Pride-Lander!"

The next thing I knew, all the wind had been knocked out of me, as the squealing elf hit me hard in the midriff, hugging me so tightly that I thought my hips were going to break.

"D-Dokey?" I gasped.

"It is Dokey, miss, it is!" squealed the voice from somewhere around my navel. "Dokey has been hoping and hoping to see Kiara Pride-Lander, miss, and Kiara Pride-Lander has come to see her, miss!"

Dokey let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at me, her enormous green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes beaming with tears of happiness. She looked almost exactly like I remembered her; the pencil-shaped nose, the bat-like ears, the long fingers and feet - all except the clothes, which were very different.

When Dokey had worked for the Maltys, she had always wore the same filthy old tea-towels. When I saw her then, however, she was wearing the strangest assortment of garments I had ever seen; she had made an even worse job of dressing herself than the wizards at the Quidditch Friendly. If I remember correctly, she was wearing a tea-cosy for a hat, on which she had pinned a number of bright badges; a waistcoat with bright blue polka-dots over her bare chest, a pair of what looked like children's football shorts and odd socks. One of them, I saw, was the navy one I had removed from my own foot and tricked Mrs Malty into giving Dokey, thereby setting Dokey free. The other was covered in brown and purple stripes.

"Dokey, what are you doing here?" I said in amazement.

"Dokey has come to work at Dragon Mort, miss," Dokey squealed excitedly. "Professor Crighton gave Dokey and Blinky jobs, miss!"

"Blinky?" I said. "He's here, too?"

"Yes, miss, yes!" said Dokey, and she seized my hand, and pulled me off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there. Each of those tables, I noticed as I passed them, was positioned exactly beneath the four house tables above in the Great Hall. At that moment, they were clear of food, dinner having finished, but I supposed that an hour ago they had been laden with dishes that had been sent up through the ceiling to their counterparts above.

At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing and curtseying as Dokey led me past them. They all wore the same uniform; a tea-towel stamped with the Dragon Mort crest, and tied as Blinky's had been, like a toga.

Dokey stopped in front of the brick fireplace and nodded.

"Blinky, miss!" she said.

Blinky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dokey, who had obviously not foraged for clothes. He was wearing neat little children's trousers and shirt with a matching black hat, which had holes in it for his large ears. However, while every one of Dokey's strange collection of garments was so clean and well cared for that it looked brand new, Blinky was plainly not taking care of his clothes at all. There were soup stains all down his shirt and there was a burn in one of his trouser legs.

"Hello, Blinky," I said.

Blinky's lip quivered. Then he burst into tears, which spilled out of his great brown eyes and splashed down his front, just as they had done at the Quidditch Friendly.

"Oh, dear," said Sian. She, Chris and Chrissie had followed Dokey and I to the end of the kitchen. "Blinky, don't cry, please don't ..."

But Blinky cried harder than ever. Dokey, on the other hand, beamed up at me.

"Would Kiara Pride-Lander like a cup of tea?" she squeaked loudly, over Blinky's sobs.

"Er - yeah, OK," I said.

Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind me, bearing a large silver tray laden with teapot, cups for Chris, Sian, Chrissie and myself, a milk jug and a large plate of biscuits.

"Good service!" Chris said, in an impressed voice, as Chrissie nodded in agreement. Sian frowned at them, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed very low and retreated.

"How long have you been here, Dokey?" I asked, as Dokey handed round the tea.

"Only a week, Kiara Pride-Lander, miss!" said Dokey happily. "Dokey came to see Professor Crighton, miss. You see, miss, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, miss, very difficult indeed - "

At this, Blinky howled even harder, his squashed tomato of a nose dribbling all down his front, though he made no effort to stem the flow.

"Dokey has travelled the country for two whole years, miss, trying to find work!" Dokey squeaked. "But Dokey hasn't found work, miss, because Dokey wants paying now!"

The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listening and watching with interest, now split into two groups: some looked away at those words, as though Dokey had said something rude and embarrassing, whereas others stayed where they were, and were genuinely interested in our conversation.

Sian seemed to agree with the elves who stayed behind, for she said, "Good for you, Dokey!"

"Thank you, miss!" said Dokey, grinning toothily at her. Dokey then looked at Sian carefully, before she gasped delightedly, and squealed, "You're Professor Crighton's eldest daughter, aren't you, miss?"

Sian giggled and said, "Indeed I am, Dokey."

"Dokey has heard a great deal about you from Professor Crighton, miss!" Dokey said. "Professor Crighton always speaks highly of you, miss!"

"I know she does, Dokey," Sian said, with a sad smile. "So, what about you finding employment, Dokey? How hard has it been for you, exactly?"

"Well, miss, some wizards have house-elves who get paid, and don't wish for another; but many wizards, miss, do not want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. "That's not the part of a good house-elf," they says, and they slammed the door in Dokey's face! Dokey likes work, but she wants to wear clothes and she wants to be paid, Kiara Pride-Lander ... Dokey likes being free!"

Most of the Dragon Mort house-elves started to edge away from Dokey, as though she was carrying something contagious. Blinky, however, remained where he was, though there was a definite increase in the volume of his crying.

"And then, Kiara Pride-Lander, Dokey goes to visit Blinky and finds out Blinky has been freed, too, miss!" said Dokey delightedly.

At this, Blinky flung himself forwards off his stool, and lay, face down, on the flagged stone floor, beating his tiny fists upon it and positively screaming with misery. Sian hastily dropped to her knees beside him, but nothing she said made the slightest difference.

Dokey continued with her story, shouting shrilly over Blinky's screeches. "And then Dokey has the idea, Kiara Pride-Lander, miss! "Why doesn't Dokey and Blinky find work together?" Dokey says. "Where is there enough work for two house-elves?" says Blinky. And Dokey thinks, and it comes to her, miss! Dragon Mort! So Dokey and Blinky came to see Professor Crighton, miss, and Professor Crighton took us on!"

Dokey beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in her eyes again.

"And Professor Crighton says she will pay Dokey, miss, if Dokey wants paying! And so Dokey is a free elf, miss, and Dokey gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much!" Sian shouted indignantly from the floor, over Blinky's continued screaming and fist-beating.

"Professor Crighton offered Dokey ten Galleons a week, and weekends off," sad Dokey, suddenly giving a little shiver, as though the prospect of so much leisure and riches was frightening, "but Dokey beat her down, miss ... Dokey likes her freedom, miss, but she isn't wanting too much, miss, she likes work better."

"And how much is Professor Crighton paying you, Blinky?"Sian asked kindly.

If she had thought that this would have cheered Blinky up, she was wildly mistaken. Blinky did stop crying, but when he sat up he was glaring at Sian through his massive brown eyes, his whole face sopping wet and suddenly furious.

"Blinky is a disgraced elf, but Blinky is not yet getting paid!" he squeaked. "Blinky is not sunk so low as that! Blinky is properly ashamed of being freed!"

"Ashamed?" said Sian blankly. "But - Blinky, come on! It's Mrs Clutch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, she was really horrible to you - "

But at these words, Blinky clapped his hands over the holes in his hat, flattening his ears so that he couldn't hear a word, and screeched, "You is not insulting my mistress, miss! You is not insulting Mrs Clutch! Mrs Clutch is a good witch, miss! Mrs Clutch is right to sack bad Blinky!"

"Blinky is having trouble adjusting, Kiara Pride-Lander," said Dokey confidentially. "Blinky forgets he is not bound to Mrs Clutch anymore; he is allowed to speak his mind now, but he won't do it."

"Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" I asked.

"Oh, no, miss, no," said Dokey, looking suddenly serious. "'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, miss. We keeps their secrets and our silence, miss, we upholds the family's honour, and we never speaks ill of them - though Professor Crighton told Dokey she does not insist upon this. Professor Crighton said we is free to - to - "

Dokey looked suddenly nervous, and beckoned me closely. I bent forwards.

Dokey whispered, "She said we is free to call her a - a barmy old codger if we likes, miss!"

Dokey gave a frightened sort of giggle.

"But Dokey is not wanting to, Kiara Pride-Lander," she said, talking normally again, and shaking her head so that her ears flapped. "Dokey likes Professor Crighton very much, miss, and is proud to keep her secrets for her."

"But you can say what you like about the Maltys now?" I asked her, grinning.

A slightly fearful look came into Dokey's immense eyes.

"Dokey - Dokey could," she said doubtfully. She squared her small shoulders. "Dokey could tell Kiara Pride-Lander that her old masters were - were - bad Dark wizards!"

Dokey stood for a moment, quivering all over, horror-struck by her own daring - then she reached over to the nearest table, and began banging her head on it, very hard, squealing, "Bad Dokey! Bad Dokey!"

I seized Dokey by the back of her waistcoat and pulled her away from the table.

"Thank you, Kiara Pride-Lander, thank you," said Dokey breathlessly, rubbing her head.

"You just need a bit of practice," I said.

"Practice!" squealed Blinky furiously. "You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dokey, talking that way about your masters!"

"They isn't my masters anymore, Blinky!" said Dokey defiantly. "Dokey doesn't care what they think any more!"

"Oh, you is a bad elf, Dokey!" moaned Blinky, tears leaking down his face once more. "My poor Mrs Clutch, what is she doing without Blinky? She is needing me, she is needing my help! I is looking after the Clutches 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 Blinky was freed? Oh, the shame, the shame!" He buried his face in his trousers again and bawled.

Sian put a gentle hand on Blinky's back and said, quite firmly, "Blinky, I'm quite sure Mrs Clutch is getting along perfectly well without you. We've seen her, you know - "

"You is seeing my mistress?" said Blinky breathlessly, raising his tear-stained face out of his trousers once more, and goggling st Sian. "You is seeing her here at Dragon Mort?"

"Yes," said Sian. "She and Miss Baxter are judges in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Miss Baxter comes, too?" squeaked Blinky, and to my great surprise (and Chris, Sian and Chrissie's, too, by the looks on their faces), he looked angry again. "Miss Baxter is a bad witch! A very bad witch! My mistress isn't liking her, oh no, not at all!"

"Baxter - bad?" I said.

"Oh, yes," Blinky said, nodding his head furiously. "My mistress is telling Blinky some things! But Blinky is not saying ... Blinky - Blinky keeps his mistress' secrets ..."

He dissolved yet again in tears; we heard him sobbing into his trousers, "Poor mistress, poor mistress, no Blinky to help her no more!"

We couldn't get another sensible word out of Blinky after that. We left him to his crying and finished our tea, while Dokey chatted happily about her life as a free elf, and her plans for her wages.

"Dokey is going to buy a jumper next, Kiara Pride-Lander!" she said happily, pointing at her bare chest.

"Tell you what I'll do, Dokey," said Sian, who had obviously taken a great liking to the elves, "I knit Christmas jumpers for my family every year, so I'll knit an extra one for you, with a variety of colours. Would you like that?"

Dokey was delighted.

"I'll have to shrink it down for you," Sian told her, "but it'll go well with your tea-cosy."

As we prepared to take our leave, many of the surrounding elves pressed in upon us, offering snacks for us to take upstairs. Sian refused, with a pained look at the way the elves kept bowing and curtseying, but Chris, Chrissie and I loaded our pockets with cream cakes and pies.

"Thanks a lot!" I said to the elves, who had all clustered around the door to say goodnight. "See you, Dokey!"

"Kiara Pride-Lander ... can Dokey come and see you sometimes, miss?" Dokey asked tentatively.

"'Course you can," I said, and Dokey beamed.

"You know what?" Chrissie said, once she, Chris, Sian and I had left the kitchens behind, and we were climbing the steps into the Entrance Hall again. "All these years I've been really impressed with Tanya and Geri nicking 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 that could have happened to those elves, you know," said Sian, leading the way back up the marble staircase. "Dokey coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy she is, with holidays and wages, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that, too!"

"Let's hope they don't look too closely at Blinky," I said.

"Oh, he'll cheer up," said Sian, though she sounded a bit doubtful. "Once the shock's worn off, and he's got used to Dragon Mort, he'll see how much better off he is without that Clutch woman."

"He seems to love her," said Chris thickly (he had just started on a cream cake).

"Doesn't think much of Baxter, though, does he?" I said. "Wonder what Clutch says about her at home?"

"Probably says she's not a very good Head of Department," said Sian, "and let's face it ... she's got a point, hasn't she?"

"I'd still rather work for her than for old Clutch," said Chrissie. "At least Baxter's got a sense of humour."

"Don't let Perdy hear you say that," Sian said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, well, Perdy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humour, would she?" said Chris, as he started eating a chocolate éclair. "Perdy wouldn't recognise a joke if it danced naked in front of her wearing Dokey's tea-cosy."