⚠️READ AT OWN RISK, THIS WAS ERITTEN WHEN I WAS 14 😭⚠️
NIGHTMARE || ❝ - I've gotta recognise the weapon in my mind - ❞
【 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦
𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳
𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴
𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦
𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 】
FINAL WORD C...
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— (chapter eighteen.) —
Harry, Aurora, Ron, and Hermione went up to the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday to send a letter to Percy, asking, as Sirius had suggested (although Aurora didn't know the contents of the letter), 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.
"Harry 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 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 them, supported by four elves.
"We should get some stuff to send up to Snuffles," Harry 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.
Aurora 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 Harry.
"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," Dobby whispered sadly. "Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr. Crouch is her master, sir, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now."
