Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went up to the Owlery thatevening to find Pigwidgeon, so that Harry could sendSirius a letter telling him that he had managed to get past hisdragon unscathed.

 On the way, Harry filled Ron in on everythingSirius had told him about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first tohear that Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, by the time we entered the Owlery Ron was saying that they ought to have suspectedit all along. 

"Fits, doesn't it?" he said. "Remember what Malfoy said on thetrain, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we knowwhere they knew each other. They were probably running aroundin masks together at the World Cup. . . . I'll tell you one thing,though, Harry, if it was Karkaroff who put your name in the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work,did it? You only got a scratch! Come here — I'll do it —"  they seemed to think it was ok to insult malfoy if he wasn't my friend. 

Pigwidgeon was so overexcited at the idea of a delivery he was flying around and around Harry's head, hooting incessantly. Ronsnatched Pigwidgeon out of the air and held him still while Harryattached the letter to his leg. 

"There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?" Ron went on as he carried Pigwidgeonto the window. "You know what? I reckon you could win this tournament, Harry, I'm serious." 

Harry knew that Ron was only saying this to make up for his behavior of the last few weeks, but he appreciated it all the same.Hermione, however, leaned against the Owlery wall, folded herarms, and frowned at Ron."Harry's got a long way to go before he finishes this tournament," she said seriously. "If that was the first task, I hate to thinkwhat's coming next." 

"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" said Ron. "You andProfessor Trelawney should get together sometime." 

He threw Pigwidgeon out of the window. Pigwidgeon plummeted twelve feet before managing to pull himself back up again;the letter attached to his leg was much longer and heavier thanusual — Harry hadn't been able to resist giving Sirius a blow-byblow account of exactly how he had swerved, circled, and dodgedthe Horntail. They watched Pigwidgeon disappear into the darkness.

"While hope is a good thing" I said "false hope isn't. The task will get harder, and so will the probability of someone dying."

After that I went down to my common room. I had to tell Zoe about Isaac, so I did. And let's just say she was horrified I had kept it from her. 

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Draftythough the castle always was in winter, I was glad of its firesand thick walls every time I passed the Durmstrang ship on thelake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. I thought the Beauxbatons caravan waslikely to be pretty chilly too.

 Hagrid, I noticed, was keepingMadame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drinkof single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in thecorner of their paddock was enough to make the entire Care ofMagical Creatures class light-headed. This was unhelpful, as we were still tending the horrible skrewts and needed our wits about us. 

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told theshivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thoughtwe'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip . . . we'll jus' settle 'emdown in these boxes. . . ."

 There were now only ten skrewts left; apparently their desire tokill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of themwas now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor;their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stingsand their suckers, combined to make the skrewts the most repulsive things I had ever seen. The class looked dispiritedly at theenormous boxes Hagrid had brought out, all lined with pillowsand fluffy blankets."We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on,and we'll see what happens."

 But the skrewts, it transpired, did not hibernate, and did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagridwas soon yelling, "Don' panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewtsrampaged around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class — Malfoy, Crabbe,and Goyle in the lead — had fled into Hagrid's cabin through the back door and barricaded themselves in; Me, Zoe, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, were among those who remained outside trying tohelp Hagrid. Together we managed to restrain and tie up nine ofthe skrewts, though at the cost of numerous burns and cuts; finally,only one skrewt was left. 

"Don' frighten him, now!" Hagrid shouted as Me, Ron and Harryused our wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, whichwas advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched, quivering,over its back. "Jus' try an' slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won'hurt any o' the others!" 

"Yeah, we wouldn't want that!" Ron shouted angrily as he, myself andHarry backed into the wall of Hagrid's cabin, still holding theskrewt off with our sparks. 

"Well, well, well . . . this does look like fun."Rita Skeeter was leaning on Hagrid's garden fence, looking in atthe mayhem. She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furrypurple collar today, and her crocodile-skin handbag was over herarm.Hagrid launched himself forward on top of the skrewt that wascornering Me, Harry and Ron and flattened it; a blast of fire shot out ofits end, withering the pumpkin plants nearby. 

"Who're you?" Hagrid asked Rita Skeeter as he slipped a loop ofrope around the skrewt's sting and tightened it. 

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Rita replied, beaming athim. Her gold teeth glinted. 

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside theschool anymore," said Hagrid, frowning slightly as he got off theslightly squashed skrewt and started tugging it over to its fellows.

Rita acted as though she hadn't heard what Hagrid had said."What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked, beaming still more widely.

 "Blast-Ended Skrewts," grunted Hagrid.

 "Really?" said Rita, apparently full of lively interest. "I've neverheard of them before . . . where do they come from?" 

I noticed a dull red flush rising up out of Hagrid's wildblack beard, and his heart sank. Where had Hagrid got the skrewtsfrom? Hermione, who seemed to be thinking along these lines, saidquickly, "They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Harry?"

 "What? Oh yeah . . . ouch . . . interesting," said Harry as shestepped on his foot. 

"Ah, you're here, Harry!" said Rita Skeeter as she looked around."So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favorite lessons?" 

"Yes," said Harry stoutly. Hagrid beamed at him. 

"Zoe" I said, trying to keep the attention of this reporter away from me "Do you need--"

"Is that Emma Potter?"

Oh boy.

"Hello" I said with a strained smile.

"How do you feel about your brother participating Emma?" asked Rita Skeeter.

"Um.." I blinked "I have absolute confidence that he'll do well."

"Lovely," said Rita. "Really lovely. Been teaching long?" sheadded to Hagrid. I noticed her eyes travel over Dean (who had a nasty cutacross one cheek), Lavender (whose robes were badly singed), Astoria (who was nursing several burnt fingers), and then to the cabinwindows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed againstthe glass waiting to see if the coast was clear.

 "This is o'ny me second year," said Hagrid. 

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

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said eagerly. "Er — yeah, whynot?" 

I had a very bad feeling about this, but there was no way ofcommunicating it to Hagrid without Rita Skeeter seeing, so I hadto stand and watch in silence as Hagrid and Rita Skeeter madearrangements to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a good long interview later that week. Then the bell rang up at the castle, signaling the end of the lesson. 

"Well, good-bye, Harry and Emma!" Rita Skeeter called merrily to us as Harry set off with Ron and Hermione, and I set off with Zoe . "Until Friday night, then,Hagrid!"

 "She'll twist everything he says," I said under my breath. 

"Just as long as he didn't import those skrewts illegally or anything," said Zoe desperately. We looked at one another —it was exactly the sort of thing Hagrid might do.

 "Hagrid's been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledore'snever sacked him," said Zoe consolingly. "Worst that can happenis Hagrid'll have to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry . . . did I say worst?I meant best." 

I laughed, and, feeling slightly more cheerful, went off to lunch. I thoroughly enjoyed double Athrimancy that afternoon. We were starting infared radiation. I wanted to discuss it with Hermione. 

However, Hermione wasn't at dinner, nor was she in the library when I went to look for her afterward, Harry and Ron were there too. The only person in there wasViktor Krum. Ron hovered behind the bookshelves for a while,watching Krum, debating in whispers with Harry whether heshould ask for an autograph — but then Ron realized that six orseven girls were lurking in the next row of books, debating exactlythe same thing, and he lost his enthusiasm for the idea. 

"Wonder where she's got to?" Ron said as he, myself and Harry wentback to Gryffindor Tower. 

"Dunno . . .Cover you ears Emma." I rolled my eyes. 

But the Fat Lady had barely begun to swing forward when thesound of racing feet behind us announced Hermione's arrival. 

"Harry!Emma" she panted, skidding to a halt beside him (the Fat Ladystared down at her, eyebrows raised). "Harry, Emma you've got to come —you've got to come, the most amazing thing's happened —please —"

 She seized one each of Harry and my arms and started to try to drag us back alongthe corridor. 

"What's the matter?" Harry said. 

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

I looked around at Ron; he looked back at me,intrigued. 

"Okay," I said, starting off back down the corridor withHermione, Ron hurrying to keep up.

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

"Yeah, thanks!" Ron shouted over his shoulder.

 "Hermione, 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!" said Hermione excitedly.

 She turned left at the bottom of the staircase and hurried towardthe door through which Cedric Diggory had gone the night afterthe Goblet of Fire had regurgitated his and Harry's names. I had never been through here before. 

Myself, He and Ron followedHermione down a flight of stone steps, but instead of ending up ina gloomy underground passage like the one that led to Slytherin's dungeon, we found ourselves in a broad stone corridor, brightly litwith torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that weremainly of food. 

"Oh hang on . . ." Harry said slowly, halfway down the corridor."Wait a minute, Hermione. . . ." 

"What?" She turned around to look at him, anticipation all overher face. 

"I know what this is about," said Harry.He nudged Ron and pointed to the painting just behindHermione. It showed a gigantic silver fruit bowl. 

Was that--if Fred and George had been right--the kitchen?

"Hermione!" said Ron, cottoning on. "You're trying to rope usinto that spew stuff again!"

 "No, no, I'm not!" she said hastily. "And it's not spew, Ron —" 

"Changed the name, have you?" said Ron, frowning at her."What are we now, then, the House-Elf Liberation Front? I'm notbarging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'mnot doing it —" 

"I'm not asking you to!" Hermione said impatiently. "I camedown here just now, to talk to them all, and I found — oh comeon, Harry,Emma I want to show you!"

She seized our arms again, pulled us in front of the picture ofthe giant fruit bowl, stretched out her forefinger, and tickled thehuge green pear. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenlyturned into a large green door handle. Hermione seized it, pulledthe door open, and pushed Harry and me hard in the back, forcing us inside. 

I had one brief glimpse of an enormous, high-ceilinged room,large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brasspots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, when something small hurtled toward us from the middle of the room, squealing, "Emma Potter, madame! HarryPotter!"

 Next second all the wind had been knocked out of me as thesquealing elf hit us hard in the midriff, hugging us so tightly I thought my ribs would break.

 "D-Dobby?" Harry gasped.

 "It is Dobby, sir, it is!" squealed the voice from somewherearound his navel. "Dobby has been hoping and hoping to seeHarry and Emma Potter, sir, and Harry and Emma Potter has come to see him, sir!" 

Dobby let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up atHarry and me, his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimmingwith tears of happiness. He looked almost exactly as I remembered him; the pencil-shaped nose, the batlike ears, the long fingersand feet — all except the clothes, which were very different. 

When Dobby had worked for the Malfoys, he had always wornthe same filthy old pillowcase. Now, however, he was wearing thestrangest assortment of garments I had ever seen; he had donean even worse job of dressing himself than the wizards at the WorldCup. He was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over abare chest, a pair of what looked like children's soccer shorts, andodd socks. One of these, I saw, was the black one I hadremoved from my own foot and tricked Mr. Malfoy into givingDobby, thereby setting Dobby free. The other was covered in pinkand orange stripes. 

"Dobby, what're you doing here?" I said in amazement.

 "Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, madame!" Dobby squealedexcitedly. "Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, madame!" 

"Winky?"I said. "She's here too?" 

"Yes, madame, yes!" said Dobby, and he seized my hand and pulled me off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables thatstood there. Each of these tables, I noticed as I passed them,was positioned exactly beneath the four House tables above, in theGreat Hall. At the moment, they were clear of food, dinner havingfinished, but he supposed that an hour ago they had been ladenwith dishes that were then sent up through the ceiling to theircounterparts above.At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen,beaming, bowing, and curtsying as Dobby led me past them.They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped withthe Hogwarts crest, and tied, as Winky's had been, like a toga. 

Dobby stopped in front of the brick fireplace and pointed."Winky, smadame" he said.

 Winky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she hadobviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a neat little skirtand blouse with a matching blue hat, which had holes in it for her ears.  However, while every one of Dobby's strange collectionof garments was so clean and well cared for that it looked brandnew, Winky was plainly not taking care of her clothes at all. Therewere soup stains all down her blouse and a burn in her skirt.

 "Hello, Winky," I said.Winky's lip quivered. Then she burst into tears, which spilledout of her great brown eyes and splashed down her front, just asthey had done at the Quidditch World Cup. 

"Oh dear," said Hermione. She, Harry and Ron had followed me and Dobby to the end of the kitchen. "Winky, don't cry, pleasedon't . . ."

 But Winky cried harder than ever. Dobby, on the other hand,beamed up at Harry and me."Would Harry and Emma Potter like a cup of tea?" he squeaked loudly, overWinky's sobs. 

"Er — yeah, okay," said Harry.

 Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind him,bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups for Me, Harry, Ron,and Hermione, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits. 

"Good service!" Ron said, in an impressed voice

. Hermionefrowned at him, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed verylow and retreated. 

"How long have you been here, Dobby?" Harry asked as Dobbyhanded around the tea. 

"Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!" said Dobby happily. "Dobbycame to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position,sir, very difficult indeed —"

At this, Winky howled even harder, her squashed-tomato of anose dribbling all down her front, though she made no effort tostem the flow. 

"Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, tryingto find work!" Dobby squeaked. "But Dobby hasn't found work,sir, because Dobby wants paying now!"

 The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listeningand watching with interest, all looked away at these words, asthough Dobby had said something rude and embarrassing.Hermione, however, said, "Good for you, Dobby!"

 "Thank you, miss!" said Dobby, grinning toothily at her. "Butmost wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss.'That's not the point of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammedthe door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wearclothes and he wants to be paid, Harry and Emma Potter. . . . Dobby likes being free!" 

The Hogwarts house-elves had now started edging away fromDobby, as though he were carrying something contagious. Winky,however, remained where she was, though there was a definite increase in the volume of her crying. 

"And then, Harry and Emma Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and findsout Winky has been freed too, sir!" said Dobby delightedly.At this, Winky flung herself forward off her stool and lay facedown on the flagged stone floor, beating her tiny fists upon it andpositively screaming with misery. Hermione hastily dropped downto her knees beside her and tried to comfort her, but nothing shesaid made the slightest difference. Dobby continued with his story,shouting shrilly over Winky's screeches.

 "And then Dobby had the idea, Harry and Emma Potter! 'Why doesn't Dobby and Winky find work together?' Dobby says. 'Where isthere enough work for two house-elves?' says Winky. And Dobbythinks, and it comes to him, sir! Hogwarts! So Dobby and Winkycame to see Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledoretook us on!" 

Dobby beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in his eyesagain. 

"And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, ifDobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobbygets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!" 

"That's not very much!" Hermione shouted indignantly fromthe floor, over Winky's continued screaming and fist-beating. 

"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, andweekends off," said Dobby, suddenly giving a little shiver, asthough the prospect of so much leisure and riches were frightening,"but Dobby beat him down, miss. . . . Dobby likes freedom, miss,but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better." 

"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?"Hermione asked kindly. 

If she had thought this would cheer up Winky, she was wildlymistaken. Winky did stop crying, but when she sat up she was glaring at Hermione through her massive brown eyes, her whole facesopping wet and suddenly furious. 

"Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" shesqueaked. "Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properlyashamed of being freed!"

 "Ashamed?" said Hermione blankly. "But — Winky, come on!It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't doanything wrong, he was really horrible to you —"

But at these words, Winky clapped her hands over the holes inher hat, flattening her ears so that she couldn't hear a word, andscreeched, "You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch isright to sack bad Winky!" 

"Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry and Emma Potter," squeakedDobby confidentially. "Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr.Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but shewon't do it." 

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

"Oh no, sir, no," said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. " 'Tispart of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets andour silence, sir. We upholds the family's honor, and we never speaksill of them — though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he doesnot insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to —to —"Dobby looked suddenly nervous and beckoned Harry closer.Harry bent forward. Dobby whispered, "He said we is free to callhim a — a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!"Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle."But Dobby is not wanting to, Harry Potter," he said, talkingnormally again, and shaking his head so that his ears flapped."Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proudto keep his secrets and our silence for him." 

"But you can say what you like about the Malfoys now?" Harryasked him, grinning.

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

 "Dobby — Dobby could," he said doubtfully. He squared his small shoulders. "Dobby could tell Harry Potter that his old masters were — were — bad Dark wizards!"

 Dobby stood for a moment, quivering all over, horror-struck byhis own daring — then he rushed over to the nearest table and began banging his head on it very hard, squealing, "Bad Dobby! BadDobby!"

 I seized Dobby by the back of his tie and pulled him awayfrom the table."Thank you, Emma Potter, thank you," said Dobby breathlessly,rubbing his head.

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

"Practice!" squealed Winky furiously. "You is ought to beashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!"

 "They isn't my masters anymore, Winky!" said Dobby defiantly."Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!"

 "Oh you is a bad elf, Dobby!" moaned Winky, tears leakingdown her face once more. "My poor Mr. Crouch, what is he doingwithout Winky? He is needing me, he is needing my help! I is looking after the Crouches all my life, and my mother is doing it beforeme, and my grandmother is doing it before her . . . oh what is theysaying if they knew Winky was freed? Oh the shame, the shame!"She buried her face in her skirt again and bawled. 

"Winky," said Hermione firmly, "I'm quite sure Mr. Crouch is getting along perfectly well without you. We've seen him, you know —"

 "You is seeing my master?" said Winky breathlessly, raising hertearstained face out of her skirt once more and goggling atHermione. "You is seeing him here at Hogwarts?" 

"Yes," said Hermione, "he and Mr. Bagman are judges in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Mr. Bagman comes too?" squeaked Winky, and to my greatsurprise (and Harry's,  Ron's and Hermione's too, by the looks on theirfaces), she looked angry again. "Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A verybad wizard! My master isn't liking him, oh no, not at all!"

 "Bagman — bad?" said Harry. 

"Oh yes," Winky said, nodding her head furiously. "My masteris telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying . . .Winky — Winky keeps her master's secrets. . . ."She dissolved yet again in tears; they could hear her sobbing intoher skirt, "Poor master, poor master, no Winky to help him nomore! 

We couldn't get another sensible word out of Winky. We lefther to her crying and finished our tea, while Dobby chatted happily about his life as a free elf and his plans for his wages."Dobby is going to buy a sweater next, Harry and Emma Potter!" he saidhappily, pointing at his bare chest. 

"Tell you what, Dobby," said Ron, who seemed to have taken agreat liking to the elf, "I'll give you the one my mum knits me thisChristmas, I always get one from her. You don't mind maroon, doyou?"Dobby was delighted."We might have to shrink it a bit to fit you," Ron told him, "butit'll go well with your tea cozy."

 As we prepared to take our leave, many of the surroundingelves pressed in upon them, offering snacks to take back upstairs--and downstairs for me.Hermione refused, with a pained look at the way the elves keptbowing and curtsying, I wasn't hungry but I took one eclair,  but Harry and Ron loaded their pocketswith cream cakes and pies. 

"Thanks a lot!" I said to the elves, who had all clusteredaround the door to say good night. "See you, Dobby!"

 "Harry and Emma Potter . . . can Dobby come and see you sometimes, sir and madame ?" Dobby asked tentatively. 

" 'Course you can," said Harry, and Dobby beamed. 

"You know what?" said Ron, once he, Hermione,me and Harry hadleft the kitchens behind and were climbing the steps into the entrance hall again. "All these years I've been really impressed withFred and George, nicking food from the kitchens — well, it's notexactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!" 

"I think this is the best thing that could have happened to thoseelves, you know," said Hermione, leading the way back up the marble staircase. "Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elveswill see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on themthat they want that too!" 

"Let's hope they don't look too closely at Winky," said Harry. 

"Oh she'll cheer up," said Hermione, though she sounded a bitdoubtful. "Once the shock's worn off, and she's got used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouchman." 

"She seems to love him," said Ron thickly (he had just started ona cream cake). 

"Doesn't think much of Bagman, though, does she?" I said."Wonder what Crouch says at home about him?" 

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

"I'd still rather work for him than old Crouch," said Ron. "Atleast Bagman's got a sense of humor." 

"Don't let Percy hear you saying that," Hermione said, smilingslightly. 

"Yeah, well, Percy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a senseof humor, would he?" said Ron, now starting on a chocolate eclair."Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of himwearing Dobby's tea cozy."