"Dobby believed that too much wealth and leisure time were terrible. In his own words, he liked freedom but not an excess of it. He preferred work over leisure and wealth."
"What about you, Winky? How much does Professor Dumbledore pay you for your work?" Hermione inquired, but she was mistaken if she thought this would lift Winky's spirits.
Winky did stop crying, but she sat up and glared at Hermione with her large brown eyes, her tear-streaked face suddenly turning angry.
"Winky is a house elf who was set free, but Winky isn't old enough to receive payment for her work!" She exclaimed in a shrill, piercing voice. "She hasn't fallen that far! Winky is ashamed to be free!"
"Ashamed?" Hermione asked in confusion. "Winky, listen to me! It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong; he was cruel to you."
Upon hearing this, Dobby quickly covered the holes in his hat and flattened his ears, as if he didn't want to hear any criticism of his former master. He exclaimed, "Don't insult my master, ma'am! Don't insult Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch did the right thing by dismissing the disobedient Winky!"
"Dobby has saved up some money for Flash, and she refuses to accept it," Dobby whispered to them excitedly. "I asked Dumbledore for the same wage as Winky, one gold galleon a week, but Winky doesn't get any time off, and I couldn't persuade her."
"You've done well, Dobby!" Hermione praised, though she glanced uneasily at the crying Winky.
Dobby shyly smiled in response.
"I can't believe she still thinks Mr. Crouch is in the right."
"Flash needs time to adjust, Miss, but she hasn't had the chance yet," Dobby explained. "She forgets that she's done with Mr. Crouch. She can think what she wants now, but she can't speak out."
"What, house-elves can't voice their opinions about their owners?" Hermione asked with a frown.
"Oh, no, absolutely not!" Dobby responded, his expression suddenly serious. "It's a rule of house-elf servitude that we must keep our masters' secrets and remain silent. We uphold our family's honor and never speak ill of our masters. But Professor Dumbledore told Dobby that he doesn't insist on that rule. He said we could."
Dobby looked anxious and approached Evan and Hermione, lowering his voice to ensure no one else could hear him.
"He said we could even call him a big fool if we wanted to!"
Then, Dobby hesitated before nervously laughing aloud.
"You can call me that too if you wish; it's your freedom, Dobby!" Evan said.
"Me too!" Hermione chimed in after him.
"No, no, Miss, Master Evan!" Dobby quickly shook his head, looking terrified. His ears snapped back. "Dobby wouldn't want that. Dobby loves Young Master Evan and your friends very much. Dobby is willing to keep your secrets, stay silent for you, and be proud of it."
"Thank you!" Evan said with gratitude.
Tears welled up in Dobby's eyes as he looked at Evan with appreciation.
"Oh, and for Malfoy, can you say whatever you want about him now?" Evan quickly asked.
He knew that if he didn't change the topic, Dobby might start crying and cling to his leg again.
Hearing Evan's question, a trace of fear passed through Dobby's large eyes.
"Dobby can, Master Evan!" he said, hesitating slightly as he raised his tiny face. "Dobby can tell Master Evan that Dobby's former master was a very bad dark wizard!"
Dobby stood there trembling for a moment, astonished by his own audacity. Then, he rushed toward the nearest table and banged his head against it while shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"
Evan quickly grabbed Dobby by the back of his tie and pulled him away from the table.
"Thank you, Master Evan, thank you," Dobby said breathlessly, rubbing his forehead.
"Well, you just need to practice," Evan said with a reassuring smile.
"Practice!" Winky exclaimed in exasperation. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, for speaking about your masters like that!"
"They're not my masters anymore, Winky!" Dobby retorted defiantly. "Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!"
"Oh, you're such a naughty elf, Dobby!" Winky whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks once more. "My poor Mr. Crouch, what would he do without Winky? He needs me; he needs my help! I've been looking after Mr. Crouch's family since I was born. Before me, it was my mother, and before her, it was my grandmother. What will they say when they find out that Winky has been set free? Oh, the shame, the shame!"
She buried her face in her dress and sobbed.
"Winky!" Hermione said firmly, looking at the crying Winky. "I'm sure Mr. Crouch is doing just fine without you. You know, we've met him."
"You've met my master?" Winky asked in a hushed tone, lifting her tear-streaked face out of her dress and gazing at Hermione with wide eyes. "You saw him here, at Hogwarts?"
"Yes!" Hermione confirmed. "He and Mr. Bagman were the judges for the Triwizard Tournament."
"Mr. Bagman is here too?" Winky questioned pointedly, suddenly becoming angry again. "Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A very, very bad wizard! My Master doesn't like him, not one bit!"
"Bagman, a bad wizard?" Hermione inquired, narrowing her eyes. This was indeed an interesting piece of information. Given Crouch's character, it wouldn't be easy for anyone to earn his approval.
"Yes!" Winky affirmed, vigorously nodding her head. "Master told Winky something! But Winky can't tell; Winky has to keep it a secret for her Master."
Once again, she burst into tears, and her sobs were audible.
"Poor master, poor master, without Shining to help him!"
Hermione continued to try to console Winky, persuading her not to be too sad and to stop worrying about Mr. Crouch.
However, Evan knew that Winky's concerns were valid, and he feared that what she dreaded had already occurred. Barty Crouch Jr. had escaped with the help of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and he was posing as his father, infiltrating Hogwarts and hatching sinister plots while the real Barty Crouch was either dead or alive.
Evan speculated that Crouch Sr. might not be dead, as Voldemort wouldn't easily dispose of him, considering his knowledge of many Ministry of Magic secrets. Young Barty Crouch would need his father's resources to brew the complex potion he was concocting.
Crouch, a man who valued honor and power, would likely consider exposure of the truth to be a fate worse than death.
Evan paid no heed to Hermione's attempts to comfort Winky. Instead, he asked Dobby to give him a tour of the kitchen.
Dobby was thrilled and eagerly led Evan while sharing his experiences as a free elf. He talked about his life as a free elf and how he planned to spend his wages.
"Dobby is going to buy a jumper next, Master Evan!" he exclaimed happily, patting his chest. "Dobby has so many clothes he wants to buy. He'll need to plan them all out."
"I have many clothes that have become too small for me; I can give them to you!" Evan casually offered. "I think they'd fit your figure nicely if you shrink them a bit."
"Oh, Master Evan, you're so..." Dobby was touched, looking elated.
"Well, you know where those clothes are; you can get them yourself!" Evan hastily added.
His eyes fell upon Dobby and then shifted to a large, heavy, greenish-black, unlocked iron door behind Dobby. This marked the edge of the kitchen area, and according to the ancient drawings Evan had found, it was not the end of the layout.
While he couldn't be certain, this door suggested that secrets or clues might be hidden behind it. Evan felt compelled to investigate.
"Dobby, what is this place?" Evan inquired. "Can we go in?"
"Inside is a cold storage, Mr. Evan!" Dobby replied. "Of course, we can go in, but it's rather chilly."
He hurried over and opened the iron door, and a wave of cold air washed over them, causing Evan to shiver.
The cold storage room was extremely cold, completely dark, and seemed like the gaping maw of a monstrous beast ready to devour them.
"There's plenty of space inside, Master Evan!" Dobby said with a shiver, casting fearful glances into the darkness ahead. "Dobby heard from the other house elves that this cold storage room has been here for hundreds of years, older than anyone else. We only use a small part of it near the entrance, and the pixies are too afraid to venture deeper."
Evan nodded. An area that had been untouched for centuries certainly piqued his curiosity. He took out the map of the household he had in his pocket, and according to the map, this was the kitchen's edge.
It seemed that James's father and Sirius hadn't explored this area when they created the map. Contemplating the sketch he had found, it suggested that there was much more behind this iron door. What secrets were concealed here?
This cold storage room appeared to have a unique magical aura. Evan couldn't identify it, but he could sense a faint, unfamiliar magical energy permeating the air.
"Lumos!" Evan whispered, casting light with his wand and stowing the map.
He led a trembling Dobby into the cold, dark room, the wand's light dispelling the surrounding darkness. Before them was a small chamber filled with rows upon rows of iron shelves, all of which were visible from their vantage point. The shelves were stacked with various types of food, and this area was frequently accessed by the house-elves.
"Master Evan, behind that shelf, there's a door leading further inside!" Dobby informed him.
He pointed toward a shelf packed with potatoes, as if he had already guessed Evan's intentions.
Evan nodded and, with a flick of his wand, levitated all the potatoes and heavy shelves into the air, relocating them elsewhere. Behind them, there was a loose, green brick wall, apparently constructed by the house-elves themselves, though its craftsmanship was quite rough.