Chapter 1096: House-Elves on a Hunt!
A CRACK resounded as Shae Apparated on a beach, along with Luna, Patricia, and Cooler.
The moment they appeared, they crashed on the soft, wet sand, tasting salt.
The Apparition wasn’t something that could remotely be claimed as an average feat of magic. Subpar, perhaps? Definitely mediocre. Coming from the renowned Golden Mage of the Thunder Faction — a 7th Floor Contestant — the sight painted an even more abysmal picture.
None could blame Shae, though.
Certainly not the trio of Sixth Floor Contestants, whom she had brought with her.
"Cough!" Shae coughed up blood, trying to stand up, wet sand plastered against her soft cheeks. Blood covered her head and half her face, pouring out from a fresh, unsightly gash on her forehead. "Cough... Cough!"
Feeling stones in her lungs and tightening the grip on her wand, Shae managed to plant her toes into the sand and stand up, her ears buzzing with white noise, the foamy waves crashing loudly in the background.
She took deep breaths, almost panting, coughing.
Then, taking one longer, deeper breath, she looked over her shoulder.
Patricia... was dead.
The girl had been alive before she had Disapparated, Shae remembered. But, now, she — a High-level Sixth Floor Contestant — was dead.
Patricia’s eyes were wide open, the salty water of the sea blasting against the reddened white around her pupils. She looked... shocked. More than shock, it was pure disbelief, as if she had seen something that she couldn’t have imagined in a hundred years.
Shae took another breath and ended up coughing even harsher than before.
She was cursed, the Golden Mage realized. So, taking her gaze off the dead Contestant, she put the end of her wand against her chest and began healing herself, barely managing to cast a Spell without coughing.
Meanwhile, the surviving duo struggled with their own issues.
Luna, who had remained a companion of Patricia since their Initiation Mission, looked at the dead body of her friend, aghast. She couldn’t look away. But that had more to do with the Full Body-Bind Curse. The curse did allow her to blink, but... she couldn’t do that, either, her pupils reflecting the back of Patricia’s head — with a massive chunk of her skull missing, blood intermingling with seawater as it massaged the bits of her brain.
Cooler, the Top-level Sixth Floor Contestant, sat up with a grunt on Luna’s side.
Ants were crawling inside his body, he felt. Under his skin. Into his bones.
Cooler lifted his hands and then slammed them into the wet sand with a muffled squelch, resisting the insane urge to claw at his skin and scratch his bones.
He did successfully remind Luna of the sound she had heard just before Disapparation.
That wet squelch...
Yes.
Luna looked at Patricia’s brain tissue as seawater cleared it again, realizing when it had happened.
The tip of a wand fell over her head, then, Shae casting the Counter-curse on her.
And the scream that had been condensing in Luna’s throat all this while came oozing out like lava, becoming one with the roar of the sea.
...
"Oh, no — Oh, no! Master Crouch will be so angry! Master Crouch will be so..."
Dobby looked on as Winky berated herself over using her magic without her Master’s permission.
The two House-elves were surrounded by destruction.
Rows of trees, with exploded stumps. Splinters scattered everywhere. Dark, several-inch-deep craters, looking like bruises on the forest’s floor. And a camp — utterly obliterated.
Winky, wearing burned, stained clothes and clutching a bottle of Butterbeer against her small chest, continued to cry, occasionally slamming her head on the bottle’s mouth before taking a sip.
They had found Barty Crouch Sr’s dead body a week ago.
A week ago... when the Dark Lord had returned to his full power and had hurt Mistress Darcie, Dobby remembered. Oh, and he had also hurt her friends. And also killed a Professor.
Winky had bawled out the truth, crying over Barty Crouch Sr’s dead body, then.
The truth about how the old man had kept his son, Barty Crouch Jr — a Death Eater — at his home, with the help of Winky, all these years.
Sir Dumbledore had told Dobby what role Barty Crouch Jr had played that night.
But, out of respect for Winky, the Headmaster hadn’t allowed them to go after him.
He had instead sent them after... a much worse set of people... who had directly hurt Mistress Darcie.
"Master Crouch needs to punish Winky..." Winky cried, taking another mouthful of the Butterbeer.
"Barty Crouch Sr is dead," Dobby reminded her. "Dobby is seen Sir Dumbledore with his..."
The bottle of Butterbeer came hurling across the space.
Dobby, not wanting the suit Mistress Darcie had given him to get dirty, made it explode midair... the remaining beer splattering on his clothes anyway.
Dobby frowned.
When he looked up, he found Winky’s eyes had already taken over her face, her finger shaking as she pointed it at him.
"You is not speaking ill of my master, Dobby! You is not speaking ill of Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, Dobby! Mr. Crouch is alive!"
Dobby took a deep breath.
In a way, he could understand where Winky was coming from.
With only a snap of fingers, this could have been him — standing in place of Winky. Well, Dobby was unsure if he would have mourned Lucius Malfoy, but... he wouldn’t have been the same House-elf as he was now because of Mistress Darcie, either.
But understanding Winky was one thing, and letting her delay the hunt was another.
They had a task to do.
And Dobby... was angry.
"But Mr. Crouch is missing, Winky," Dobby said. "These dark wizards is making him missing. Mr. Crouch will not punish Winky. It was an accident... It just... happened."
Winky paused.
"Yes... Yes..." she mumbled, magicking another bottle of Butterbeer. "Winky ended a dark wizard. Mr. Crouch hates dark wizards... But Mr. Crouch is missing... Winky must find him..."
Dobby let out a breath, nodding.
It didn’t matter if he had lied for Winky’s sake or to continue the hunt.
One way or another, Dobby would make sure that these dark wizards would never get to hurt Mistress Darcie... ever again.
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