The Son of Mystery - Harry Potter Male Insert

Man Gone Mad

Y/N, Harry, Ron and Hermione went up the the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday morning to send a letter to Percy, as Sirius had suggested, asking if he had seen Mr. Crouch recently. They used Hedwig this time, as she was getting restless from a lack of flying. When they had watched her fly out of sight, they went down to the kitchens to give Dobby his 'thank-you' socks.

The House-Elves gave them a cheery welcome, bowing and curtsying and making tea once again. Dobby was thrilled with his present.

"Harry Potter is too good to Dobby!" He squeaked, wiping large tears out of his eyes.

"You saved my life, it's the least I could do," Harry smiled, sipping his tea.

"Any chance I could get some more eclairs?" Ron asked, looking around at the beaming House-Elves.

"You've just had breakfast!" said Hermione irritably, but a great silver platter of eclairs was already zooming towards them, supported by four Elves.

"I reckon we get some extra stuff to send to... Snuffles." Y/N muttered, unable to say the code name without smirking.

"Good idea," said Ron. "Give Pig something to do. You couldn't give us a bit of extra food, could you?" He asked the surrounding Elves, and they bowed delightedly and hurried off to get some more.

"Dobby, where's Winky?" qsked Hermione, who was looking around the room.

"Winky is over there, by the fire, miss," said Dobby quietly, his ears drooping slightly.

"Oh dear," she said, when she spotted Winky.

Y/N glanced over at the fireplace to where Winky was sat. She was in the same stood as the last time they had been here, but she had allowed herself to become so filthy that she wasn't recognisable as quickly as usual. Her clothes were ragged and unwashed. She was clutching bottle of Butterbeer and swaying slightly in the stool, staring into the fire. As they watched, she gave an enormous hiccup.

"Winky is getting through six bottles a day now," Dobby whispered to the group.

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

Dobby shook his head. "Tis strong for a House-Elf, sir," he said.

"I'm sure anything like that would be strong for Elves," said Y/N, as Winky hiccuped again. The Elves around them who had brought them the eclairs looked at her disapprovingly.

"Winky is pining," 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."

"Hey, Winky," said Harry abruptly, bending down to her. "You don't know what's happened to Mr. Crouch, do you? He's stopped turning up to judge the Triwizard Tournament."

Winky swayed again in her seat again and then said, "M-Master is stopped - hic - coming?"

"He's not shown up since the first task, apparently he's ill," said Y/N, leaning against a low table. 

Winky swayed more in her chair, staring blearily at Y/N. 

"Master - hic - ill?" 

Her bottom lip began to tremble. 

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

"Granger, back off for a minute," said Y/N sharply, giving her a look.