Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0592 Kitchen (LARGE-CHAPTER)

Dobby gazed intently at Harry once more. Harry, having finally organized his thoughts, decisively returned his wand to his pocket and nodded to Dobby.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Lead the way, Dobby," Harry said.

Without hesitation, Dobby grasped Harry's hand and guided the trio past four long wooden tables towards the back of the kitchen.

As they walked, Ron leaned in close to Harry and Hermione, and muttered softly. "So, this is how the food magically appears during our meals, eh?" He gestured towards the wooden tables, identical in every way to the four House tables in the Great Hall above.

The kitchen was full of hustle and bustle, with more than a hundred house-elves busy in various tasks. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione passed by, the house-elves paused in their work and their attention was focused on the young wizards.

Wearing green towels decorated with the Hogwarts crest, the house-elves beamed at the trio with joy. They bowed in unison looking very respectful, but having so many little creatures simultaneously showing you such expressions still made one feel a bit creeped out.

The trio deliberately averted their gazes from the adoring house-elves, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the attention. Harry, his curiosity piqued, turned to Dobby and inquired in a hushed tone, "Are all of Hogwarts' house-elves here, Dobby?"

Dobby's face lit up with pride and enthusiasm as he responded, "Oh no, sir! There are many, many more house-elves working throughout the castle. They are busy washing the young wizards' and professors' dirty clothes, scrubbing and tidying the classrooms used during the day, boiling water for various purposes, and cleaning and unclogging the washrooms. Our work is endless, sir, but we are happy to serve!"

Hermione couldn't suppress the dissatisfied grunts that escaped her lips, finding Dobby's gleeful expression while describing the house-elves' never-ending labor rather disturbing.

Dobby stopped before the large fireplace they had initially spotted upon entering the kitchen, "Winky, look who's here, sir!"

"Oh, my goodness!" Hermione gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in shock. Tears welled up in her eyes as she took in the sight before her. Harry and Ron, equally stunned, widened their eyes in disbelief.

There, on a stool beside the roaring fire, sat Winky. Unlike Dobby, who was dressed in a varied mix of strange garments, Winky wore a simple, tidy cloth consisting of a small dress and blouse, topped with a matching blue hat that allowed her large ears to poke through. Despite her neat attire, Winky's blouse was soaked with numerous stains, and her skirt bore a noticeable burn mark.

However, it was not Winky's stained clothing that caught the trio's attention, but rather the horrific scars that were on her body. Nearly every inch of exposed skin, except for her face, was covered in severe burn marks. These untreated wounds had healed naturally, leaving Winky's flesh distorted and charred which was a truly frightening sight to observe.

"How on earth--"

Hermione gasped, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and concern. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, and her lips trembled uncontrollably.

"How did you end up like this, Winky?"

Winky, unlike Dobby, showed no signs of excitement upon seeing her 'old acquaintances.' Instead, she abruptly dropped the firewood she had been about to add to the stove, buried her face in her hands, and began to wail desolately, giving no response to Harry's question.

"I reckon it was Professor Watson--" Among the three, Ron, who had lived in the wizarding world since childhood, was the one who took the house-elves' situation most for granted. But after seeing the burns on Winky's body, his voice also became muffled, "That night, when Winky fainted in the top box, she couldn't avoid his magic. And after the Ministry interrogated her, they didn't bother to treat her injuries either."

Dobby nodded sadly, looking at Winky. "You're right, sir. Winky's injuries were very serious indeed. When Dobby went to visit her, she was on the brink of death. St Mungo's wouldn't treat a house-elf, so Dobby had to venture into the forest to search for medicinal herbs. For two months, Winky couldn't move at all."

Dobby's voice grew shrill with emotion as he continued, "But house-elves are resilient creatures, sir. Against all odds, Winky survived!

Afterwards, Dobby took Winky to find work. House-elves must work to earn their keep, you see. But where was there enough work for two house-elves? Dobby searched for a long time and couldn't find any. Later, one day, Dobby found that many wizards had gathered at a venue in Diagon Alley, so Dobby wanted to go in and find food!"

A broad smile spread across Dobby's face, and joyful tears once again filled his eyes. "To Dobby's surprise, these wizards were watching the Triwizard Tournament on a strange screen. And there, in the background, Dobby caught a glimpse of Hogwarts castle! Without hesitation, Dobby and Winky sought out Professor Dumbledore, sir. And the great wizard, with his kindness, took us both in!"

Harry and the others finally understood how Dobby and Winky had come to be at Hogwarts. While Harry was happy to unexpectedly find Dobby in the castle's kitchen, the sight of Winky lying on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, weighed heavily on his heart.

Hermione, her voice trembling with righteous fury, exclaimed, "Someone must be held accountable for your injuries, Winky!!"

"Easy to say--" Ron glanced at Hermione and asked a sensible question. "And who exactly do you suggest we hold responsible, Hermione? Professor Watson? Barty Crouch? Or perhaps the entire Ministry of Magic?"

It was a valid point. Hermione was not so naive as to believe that Barty Crouch or the Ministry would willingly compensate Winky for her injuries. As for Professor Watson, while he was generally approachable, he could not be blamed for the incident. At the time, the situation at the Quidditch stadium had been critical, and Professor Watson's focus had been solely on preventing the dark witch from committing further crimes. Taking a house-elf's well-being into consideration had not been a priority.

Dobby, still somewhat reserved in Hermione's presence, interjected, "Please, Miss Granger, do not trouble yourself. Winky does not want an apology or compensation. She just…. just wants to return to Mr. Crouch."

Winky suddenly burst out, wailing loudly, nonstop pounding the floor with her fists, looking utterly heartbroken.

Hermione's eyes shined with indignation. "Return to Crouch? Why on earth would you want to go back to him, Winky? You served him faithfully, yet even when he knew you were wrongfully accused, he cast you aside without a second thought. And when you were gravely injured, he couldn't be bothered to provide you with proper care. He is not a worthy master!"

Winky's crying abruptly ceased, as if someone had pressed a pause button. She sat up; her enormous eyes narrowed in fierceness as she glared at Hermione. "Don't you dare insult my master, miss! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, a noble man. He was right to dismiss Winky, for Winky was a bad elf. He did what was just and proper!"

"But—" Hermione, bewildered by Winky's unwavering loyalty, attempted to argue, but Ron intervened. "Oh, give it a rest, Hermione. It's no use. Creatures like her are set in their ways. They live to serve wizards, taking all the blame upon themselves and finding twisted satisfaction in it. You can't change their nature."

"That's not the case--" Harry suddenly said. He nodded his chin towards Dobby, "Don't we have an exception right in front of us?"

Harry squatted down so he could talk to Dobby better. He said with a smile,

"Dobby once tried to resist Lucius Malfoy's wicked orders, right?"

"Dobby's former masters - Dobby didn't want to obey them!" A trace of fear flashed through Dobby's huge eyes, "They are... are very bad wizards!"

It was obvious that speaking ill of his former masters was a difficult task for Dobby. He stood motionless for a moment, and his entire body was trembling, stunned by his own audacity.

Suddenly, overcome by the urge to punish himself, he charged towards the nearest table. Hermione was already very familiar with this scene. She quickly grabbed his clothes and pulled him back.

"Your resistance was justified, Dobby!" Hermione said with a determined look in her eyes, "If it weren't for your bravery, Lucius Malfoy's despicable actions would have killed many people!"

Dobby, breathless and overwhelmed by Hermione's praise, rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Oh, thank you, Miss Granger! Thank you so much!"

"Oh, right!" Dobby's ability to restrain his instinct for self-punishment undoubtedly surprised Hermione. She blinked and suddenly shouted,

"You just mentioned that you receive wages here at Hogwarts, didn't you?"

Dobby's face lit up with joy once more. "Yes, Miss Granger! Dobby earns wages and even has holidays! Professor Dumbledore is a truly great wizard. He offered Dobby more holidays and higher wages, but Dobby negotiated with him. Dobby cherishes his freedom, miss, but he doesn't desire too much of it just yet. He prefers to work!"

"That's it!" Under Harry and Ron's puzzled gaze, Hermione shouted excitedly.

The other house-elves in the bustling kitchen had initially crowded around Harry, Ron, Hermione eagerly awaiting any orders or requests. However, as soon as the trio began to discuss topics such as "wages," "vacation," and "freedom," the elves quickly scattered to the periphery of the room, their expressions showing a mixture of discomfort and disapproval, as if they were discussing something very rude.

Hermione, momentarily setting aside her concerns about the other elves' reactions, grasped Dobby's thin arm with a sense of urgency and shouted loudly again. "Freodom, come here!"

Bang! With a resounding bang and a slight pop, another house-elf appeared beside Hermione. It was none other than Freodom, Hermione's own elf, still wearing the sweater Hermione had made for her from a piece of fabric torn from her robe.

Compared to their last encounter half a month ago, at the end of the Triwizard Tournament's first task, Freodom looked slightly stronger. It was hard to imagine that a newborn house-elf could grow so much in just two or three months.

"Oh, what happened, Hermione?" Harry exclaimed in surprise as soon as he saw Freodom appear, "What's wrong with her ears?"

One of Freodom's ears drooped down, and the soft fluff on it had completely disappeared, leaving the skin a charred black color as if burned.

"She wanted to punish herself for helping with the Triwizard Tournament task," Hermione said sadly. "Freodom stuck her head in Hagrid's stove, luckily Fang discovered her in time."

Hearing the reason, even Harry couldn't help but sigh. These house-elves were harder to deal with than any magical creature he had ever seen.

"Respected Mistress Granger," Freodom had never been to the Hogwarts kitchen before, and the surroundings made her look slightly bewildered. When she realized that she was surrounded by her own kind, all curiously sizing her up, she called out Hermione's name in a panic and instinctively shrank back against Hermione's legs.

"A house-elf baby!" Dobby exclaimed, his tennis ball-sized eyes widening with surprise and delight.

House-elves, it seemed, possessed their own unique method of discerning the age of their companions. While to Harry and Ron, Freodom and Dobby appeared to be of similar size, Dobby recognized at a glance that Freodom was, in fact, a newborn.

"Dobby hasn't seen such a tiny house-elf baby in a long, long time, Miss Granger," Dobby marveled, his gaze flickering between Freodom and Hermione. "Is this your personal house-elf?" he asked, his tone a mixture of happiness and perplexity as he glanced at the hand that still grasped his arm. "What can Dobby do for you, Miss Granger?"

Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances, having already guessed Hermione's intentions. Their suspicions were confirmed as Hermione, with her other hand, grasped Freodom's arm and spoke to her with utmost seriousness.

"Freodom, this is Dobby," Hermione began, sounding very resolute. "Starting tomorrow, you can stay with Hagrid during the night, but I want you to spend your days following Dobby, learning from him."

Freodom, her large eyes blinking in confusion, gazed at Dobby, seemingly dazed by Hermione's unexpected order.

Dobby, while feeling honored by Hermione's solemn demeanor, couldn't help but express his puzzlement. "Miss Granger, house-elves don't require lessons in housework," he explained gently. "We are born with an innate knowledge of how to perform our duties. Your house-elf, Miss Granger, appears to be in excellent health. What could Dobby possibly teach her?"

Hermione frowned, her mind working to find the right words to convey her intentions in a manner that would be easily understood.

"Oh, it's just..." she began, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "I hope that you can teach Freodom, um, to pursue freedom, and to understand that house-elves have the right to enjoy wages and vacations while working."

A deafening silence fell upon the room.

No one, human or house-elf, made a sound.

Freodom's skin visibly turned a shade of pink all over her body. Judging by the intensity of the light emanating from her enormous eyes, this reaction was not born of excitement, but rather a deep-seated fear. It was a perfectly normal response, and contrary to Hermione's expectations, Dobby did not readily agree with her proposal. Instead, he appeared troubled, his expression changed to one of unease and concern.

Ron, sighing heavily, leaned in close to Harry and whispered softly in his ear, "Alas, this is simply a disaster." Harry couldn't help but nod in agreement.

Freodom, her gaze darting between Dobby and Hermione, instinctively wanted to distance herself from him, but Hermione's direct order left her rooted in place, unable to move.

With a pitiful, pleading look directed at her mistress, Freodom then turned her attention back to Dobby, her eyes widened with horror, as if he were covered in the most disgusting filth imaginable.

Witnessing Freodom's reaction, Dobby understood the depth of her aversion.

"I'm afraid..." Dobby began, his voice laced with embarrassment as he struggled to find a tactful way to express his thoughts. "Dobby has also attempted once to persuade Winky to request wages and vacations from Professor Dumbledore..."

At the mention of her name, Winky, who had been crying and whimpering by the fireplace, suddenly became enraged once more. "Winky may be a house-elf who has been cast aside, but Winky has not sunk so low as to accept wages!" she shrieked sharply. "Winky has not fallen that far! Winky is ashamed of freedom!"

Dobby, pointing to Winky as an example, then turned his gaze to the elves who had distanced themselves even further from the group.

"You see, Miss," he said sadly, "apart from work-related matters, they have no desire to talk with me on any other topics. Forgive my bluntness, Miss Granger, but it is highly likely that your house-elf will feel the same way..."

Freodom, her eyes brimming with tears, looked pleadingly at Hermione. "Freodom loves to work, great Mistress Granger, But Freodom does not want wages or vacations. Freodom is an obedient elf."

But Hermione seemed to have made up her mind. She kept her reluctance in her heart, her lips only pursed, showing Freodom and Dobby her determination with her gaze.

"Hermione,"

Harry, feeling a sense of helplessness, knew that Hermione's intentions were pure. He, too, believed that the treatment of house-elves needed to improve, but her approach was clearly problematic. Just as he was about to gently persuade Hermione to take a more gradual approach, one of the elves who had been keeping their distance suddenly stood up. Under the stunned gazes of the group, the elf timidly made its way towards them.

"You - you can't do this, M-Miss Granger," the house-elf came to Hermione. Judging by its trembling appearance, it had obviously mustered up great courage to question Hermione's words. 

"You are..." Identifying house-elves was not an easy task for wizards. It took Hermione some time to react, then she exclaimed in delight,

"Reega! I remember now, you are Reega!" Hermione excitedly brought Freodom in front of Reega and called out happily, "Do you remember, Freodom? She is your mother! Reega, do you remember her?"

To Hermione's disappointment, Freodom reacted with obvious coldness to Reega's appearance. She simply nodded in response to Hermione's question, and her fearful eyes were still fixed upon Dobby.

Reega, encouraged by a strange emotion stirring within her, found the courage to voice her objections in Hermione's presence.

"You can't let Freodom get close to Dobby, Miss Granger, Freodom is an obedient house-elf, willing to do anything for you, Miss Granger. But you mustn't allow Dobby to teach her such terrible things. House-elves cannot have wages and vacations..."

Just the mention of those two words sent violent shudders through Reega's body, but she persisted in finishing her sentence. "Everything a house-elf possesses belongs to its master,"

Things had reached an impasse. Freodom continued to shake her head, adamant in her refusal to associate with Dobby. And Reega, Freodom's mother and one of the primary reasons for Hermione's visit to the kitchen tonight, had taken the extraordinary step of actively trying to persuade Hermione to withdraw her order to help Freodom.

This made Hermione extremely troubled. Her clever mind could not yet handle this complex situation. Her lack of life experience made her unaware of what it meant for Reega to take the initiative and stand up.

Bang!

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the center of the kitchen, the unmistakable sound of a house-elf apparating.

All eyes instinctively turned towards the source of the noise, and they discovered that an elf had apparated back into the kitchen, appearing directly on top of one of the four long tables at the center of the room.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as they gazed upon the newly arrived elf, felt subtle changes in their expressions.

Thump...

The elf, having landed on the tabletop, staggered like a drunkard. It took a few wobbly steps before collapsing with a resounding thud onto the hard surface of the table.

Silence and stillness fell upon the kitchen once more.

"What's wrong with it?" Harry asked, his brows furrowing involuntarily. The way the elves near the long table stared at this elf made Harry feel a little creeped out.

Dobby gasped as he spoke the words that no one wanted to hear: "It's dead, sir."

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