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Chapter 602: Secrets in Hogwarts Kitchens
🕑 Added 2019-09-18 04:09:01 +0000 UTC
"Practice?!" squealed Winky furiously. "You is ought to be ashamed 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 leaking down her face once more. "My poor Mr. Crouch, what is he doing without 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 before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her... Oh what is they saying if they knew Winky was freed? Oh the shame, the shame!” She buried her face in her skirt again and bawled.
"Winky!" Hermione looked at her crying, and said 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?" asked Winky breathlessly, raising her tearstained face out of her skirt once more and goggling at Hermione. "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, suddenly becoming angry again. “Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn’t liking him, oh no, not at all!"
"Bagman … bad wizard?" Hermione asked, squinting. This was really an interesting piece of information.
In fact, with Crouch's character, it was difficult for someone to get a high rating from him.
In his eyes, anyone who was not rigorous against dark magic or Dark wizards was not a good person.
"Oh yes," Winky said, nodding her head furiously. "My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying … Winky keeps her master’s secrets..."
She dissolved yet again in tears; they could hear her sobbing into her skirt, “Poor master, poor master, no Winky to help him no more!”
Although it had no effect, Hermione still tried to persuade her not to be so sad and not to worry about Mr. Crouch.
Evan knew, however, that Winky’s worries were actually justified, and that what she was worried about had really happened.
With the help of Voldemort and the vampires, Barty Crouch Jr. had broken free, possibly disguising as his own father and mingling into Hogwarts. They were planning a terrible conspiracy, while Barty Crouch himself was facing an uncertain fate.
Evan thought he might not have died yet. Considering Crouch's status and him knowing many secrets about the Ministry of Magic, Voldemort should not kill him casually, and Barty Crouch Jr. needed to use his body to make the Polyjuice Potion.
Crouch should now be locked up somewhere like Moody, staying there weak and helpless.
For Crouch, who attached great importance to reputation and power, when the truth would be made public, what would happen might be worse than killing him directly.
Evan did not continue to listen to Hermione's persuasion. He asked Dobby to take him around the kitchen.
Dobby was very excited, and as he led Evan, he kept chatting happily about his life as a free elf and his plans for his wages.
"Dobby is going to buy a sweater next, Master Evan!" He said happily pointing to his bare chest, "Dobby wants to buy too many clothes; he has to plan well..."
"I have a lot of small clothes that I can't wear anymore. I can give them to you!" Evan said absently. "You don’t mind, do you? I think we might have to shrink them a bit to fit you."
"Oh, Master Evan, you are really..." Dobby was moved and looked at Evan in delight with teary eyes.
"All right, you know where those clothes are, you can take them yourself!” Evan said quickly.
His eyes fell on Dobby, and then he turned to the locked heavy blue-black iron door behind him.
This was the edge of the kitchen. According to the old drawings that Evan found, this was not the end.
He couldn’t be sure. After all, the whole pattern had changed too much.
But since there was a door, then the secret or any clues might be behind this iron gate. He had to go in and have a look.
"Dobby, what’s behind that door?" Evan asked. "Can we go in?!"
"There is a cold storage room, Master Evan!" Dobby said, "Of course you can go in, but it is a bit cold inside..."
He ran over and opened the iron door, and the cold air hit Evan head on. He couldn't help shivering.
The temperature inside the cold storage room was very low, and there was no light in the darkness. It was like a giant beast opening its mouth to eat.
"There's a lot of space in there, Master Evan!" Dobby said with a shiver, staring in fear. "Dobby has heard other elves say that this freezer is hundreds of years old, older than anything else. We are now using only a small part of the outside, and the elves are too afraid to go deep into it."
Evan nodded. A place that no one had been in for hundreds of years; it was really necessary to go in and check it out.
He took the Marauder’s Map out of his sleeve, on which this was already the edge of the kitchen.
It seemed that Harry's father and Sirius did not enter here at the time and did not draw this part on the map.
Thinking about the drawings he had found, there should be a lot of space behind this. What secrets were hidden inside?!
The refrigeration principle of this cold storage was also suspicious. Since it had been used for hundreds of years, there might be a powerful magic at work.
Evan could feel the faint magic in the air, but not magic he was familiar with.
"Lumos Maxima!" he whispered, putting away the map.
Evan led Dobby, who kept shivering, into the dark cold storage. The light of the wand dispelled the darkness around him.
In front of them was a small room that could be seen to the end at a glance, filled with rows of iron shelves.
All kinds of food were piled up on the shelves, which were often used by house elves.
"Master Evan, there is a door behind these shelves that leads to the inside!" Dobby said.
He pointed to shelves full of potatoes and it seemed that he had figured out what Evan was going to do.
Evan nodded and gently raised his wand. All the potatoes and heavy shelves flew into the air and landed somewhere else.
Behind, there was a loose blue brick wall.
The house-elves might have built it themselves; the workmanship was too rough.
