The Son of Light of the Snake House

"Winky is very haggard now, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered sadly. "Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr. Crouch is her master, sir," Dobby told her repeatedly. The master is Dumbledore, but she just won't listen."

"Hey, Winky," Harry suddenly had an idea, walked up to her, and bent over, "Do you have any idea what Mr. Crouch might be doing? He's not coming to referee the Triwizard Tournament."

Twinkle's eyes flickered, and her two huge pupils fixed on Harry, her body shook slightly again, and she said, "Master—Master isn't—uh—not coming?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "we haven't seen him since the first project. The Daily Prophet says he's sick."

Winky wobbled a few more times, staring at Harry with blurred vision.

"Master—er—ill?" Her lower lip quivered.

"We're not sure if that's true yet," Hermione said hastily.

"Master needs his—er—Winky now!" the elf twitched, "Master alone—er—how—er—how can he deal with..."

"Housework that other people can do themselves, Winky," said Hermione seriously.

"Winky - er - not just - er - for Mr. Crouch's housework!" shrieked Winky, shaking still more, and spilling butterbeer on her already stained On his shirt, "Master—uh—trusted Winky and told Winky the most important—er—secret—"

"What's the matter?" Harry said.

But Winky shook her head vigorously, and spilled some more beer on herself.

"Winky can't—er—tell the master's secret." She couldn't control herself at all, shaking violently, frowning, and staring at Harry absent-mindedly, "You—er—are you have a finger in the pie."

"Winky won't talk to Harry Potter like that!" said Dobby angrily. "Harry Potter is brave and noble, and Harry Potter doesn't mind his own business!"

Harry waved his hand: "I'm sorry, Winky, but I didn't mean to—well—I've realized my mistake, but I still have a question to ask you, what do you think of your little master?"

"Little...Little master?" Shining looked at him in a daze, "Little master..."

"That's right, it's your little master—er, what's his name? Also called Barty Crouch?" Harry looked at Hermione pretending not to know, then turned back: "Well , he may have been in a little trouble recently, I think, will your master treat him... er, I mean, look, they are father and son after all, if you can get in touch with them—"

"Why are you telling her that?" Hermione looked at him reproachfully: "Winky finally got rid of that scum, how could you bring up her sadness again—"

"He is not the little master!" Winky suddenly screamed, the voice was as loud as a siren: "He made the master sad! The master hates him! He made the master lose face!"

"What did he do?" Harry gave Ron a calm look as Ron tried to remind him of the news they'd already heard from Sirius.

"He doesn't want to repent!" Shining still yelled, waving a glass of butter beer in his hand: "He has completely failed his master's education! The master loves him so much and trusts him so much! But he has gone on a bad road! Let the master It's embarrassing! The master tried so hard to get him out, but he escaped, and even lost his daughter—"

She stopped abruptly: "No, no, no, this is a secret! This is the master's secret!" She dropped the things in her hands and covered her mouth anxiously.

"You're prying into my master's secret private affairs—er—Winky is a good house-elf, and Winky knows to keep silent!—people do their best to pry—"

"What's missing? Keep talking?!" Harry immediately became impatient. This is equivalent to telling you halfway through a joke and telling you something to do tomorrow, or telling a ghost story to stop at the scariest point without telling the final ending. Same, let him scratch his head anxiously.

However, Winky's eyelids drooped, and she slowly slid from the stool to the rug in front of the fireplace, snoring loudly.Empty butterbeer bottles rolled across the stone floor.Six or seven house-elves hurried over with disgusted expressions on their faces.One of them picked up the bottle, and the others covered Winky with a large checkered tablecloth, carefully tucking the corners so no one could see her.

"I'm sorry for letting you see this, sir and miss!" squealed a nearby elf, shaking his head in shame. "I hope you don't judge us all by Winky, sir and miss!"

When Hermione heard this, she immediately became anxious. She tried to reason with them, but she was dragged out by Harry and Ron before she could speak halfway.

"That's beside the point! Hermione!" whispered Harry, tightening his grip on one of her arms.

Ron also echoed: "You really should learn how to focus instead of wasting your attention on trivial things that don't matter."

"It doesn't matter?" Hermione struggled hard: "This is human rights! It's not about those things that don't matter—let me go!" But it was still unavoidable that she would be carried down the stairs by her friends.

"Now we're going to focus on what Winky just said, okay? I think it's important, but she won't go on - Hermione, when it's all over. I'll help you write a manifesto for house-elves' human rights, okay ?"

"—Are you serious?" Hermione said skeptically, but resisted less forcefully.

"Of course! Of course!" said Harry, giving Ron a hard wink.

"Okay - I'll write it too, and I'll sign it too." Ron sighed. "Honestly, Winky might be talking nonsense, after all, she's drunk, look at her drunken face—my grandpa isn't as drunk as he is!"

As he spoke, he secretly praised the metaphor he had imagined in his heart.But why didn't Harry support such an ingenious metaphor?Even Hermione stopped talking and struggling?

Ron let go of his hand in doubt, and looked over again, and saw a touch of platinum at the bottom of the stairs facing the three of them.

Draco, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs directly below them, looked up and was watching them silently, and their strange posture.

The author has something to say:

Draco:?

Harry: ...the death scene.