Winky’s perspective was that of the vast majority of house-elves, and those like Dobby were a minority.
Long-term oppression had led them to form this erroneous and abnormal concept.
The most terrible thing about the house-elves being slaves of wizards was that they are okay with that themselves.
Evan knew this, but the others didn't.
When he heard Winky’s words, Harry asked blankly. "What's wrong with this, shouldn't he be paid?"
Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again. "House-elves are not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "It’s the worst, worst idea. It is bad. It is a shame for us."
Hearing her words, Hermione raised her eyebrows. Evan knew it meant she was uncomfortable with what Winky was saying, and wanted something to be said.
Indeed, she turned her eyes to Evan the next second, with an inquiring look on her little face.
"I paid Dobby, and he had holidays!" Evan whispered, "Four Gold-Galleons a month and a day off."
"That's all!" Hermione frowned more tightly. "I never knew you were exploiting Dobby and being so cheap with him!"
Evan wanted to give Dobby more Gold-Galleons and holidays, but the house-elf did not accept them at all.
In fact, every time he asked him to do less or told him a few words of care, it would make him cry with his thighs in his arms.
Over time, Evan surrendered and stopped asking him. For house elves, more work represented more happiness!
But Hermione obviously didn't think so. From her expression, she seemed to think that Evan was squeezing cheap labor.
She knew Dobby's job. He was Evan’s full-time servant, available 24 hours a day.
With such a heavy workload, he could only get one Gold-Galleon a week. What was the difference between slaves and him?
Meanwhile, Harry's conversation with Winky continued.
"There is nothing wrong with getting paid. Dobby should also have some fun," said Harry.
"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter!" said Winky firmly from behind her hands, looking angry, directly calling Harry's full name. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, Harry Potter!" She glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped.
"Why has he sent you up here, if he knows you don’t like heights?" Harry frowned discontentedly.
"Master, master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master’s tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Unlike Dobby, Winky is a very good house-elf."
She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again.
There was a silence and everyone looked at each other. Only Hermione was frowning angrily.
"These house-elves are very strange, aren't they?" Ron muttered.
"She might be even weirder than Dobby!" Harry agreed.
"They just think too naively, but in essence they are not bad." Evan said, glancing anxiously at Hermione, "house-elves have their own way of life and customs, and we should not all high and mighty trying to interpret their views as we please, or even try to intervene.”
He didn't know if Hermione had listened, and hoped she wouldn't come up with anything like saving house-elves and changing their world.
But Evan turned to think, if Hermione didn't do that, she wouldn’t be Hermione!
This was one of Hermione’s characteristics, and it was also part of her charm. Some things were meant to be and couldn’t be changed anyway.
Evan thought for a moment. Instead of worrying about Hermione, he had to do something within his grasp.
He quietly pulled out his wand and pointed it at the empty seat beside Winky, and the subtle magic fell silently there.
It was the tracking magic that allowed Evan to take control of his current position within a certain range.
Voldemort and the vampires could save Barty Crouch Jr., but they couldn’t make a big fight. The crazy things that occurred at the fallen Centaurs’ ruins couldn’t happen here at the World Cup venue.
Suddenly, Evan remembered: every time he saw the evil god coming, in the end, because of the lack of flesh and blood, it could not keep up the expansion speed of its huge body, which eventually led to its collapse and the appearance of cracks.
The expansion of the evil god seemed to be endless. What would it look like if there were 100,000 people to supply it with flesh and blood?! Probably the entirety of England would be covered by it, and it might extend to the outside of the atmosphere.
Such a monster would be horrifying!
Soon, everyone's attention shifted from Winky to the Quidditch field.
Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.
“Wild!” he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. “I can make that old bloke down here pick his nose again … and again … and again …”
"Hermione just said that a display from the Team Mascots will precede the match. I wonder what that would be?" asked Harry curiously.
"Oh, that's always worth watching." Mr. Weasley said, "You’ll be impressed by its ending."
"This is the tradition of the World Cup. National teams bring creatures from their native land to put on a bit of a show.” Sirius said to Harry, “They are all very rare things. One year, they brought more than 30 phoenixes.”
Dumbledore had a phoenix "Fawkes", a magical animal with golden feathers and strong magic power.
The phoenix is very rare, with its origins in Egypt, India and China, and the phoenixes in different places have slight differences.
But on the whole, they are all very ornamental. It was hard to imagine what more than 30 phoenixes would look like flying around the field.
The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour.
Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards.
Sirius mostly responded with a sneer. He sat in the corner and whispered to Evan about the wizards’ past.
In front of them, Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a porcupine covered with thorns.
When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered.
Highly embarrassed, he hurriedly repaired the lens with his wand, and thereafter remained in his seat.
When Cornelius Fudge greeted Harry like an old friend, Percy threw jealous looks at Harry.
Then, Fudge saw Sirius and Evan sitting in the corner and approached them with a smile.
Winky’s perspective was that of the vast majority of house-elves, and those like Dobby were a minority.
Long-term oppression had led them to form this erroneous and abnormal concept.
The most terrible thing about the house-elves being slaves of wizards was that they are okay with that themselves.
Evan knew this, but the others didn't.
When he heard Winky’s words, Harry asked blankly. "What's wrong with this, shouldn't he be paid?"
Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again. "House-elves are not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "It’s the worst, worst idea. It is bad. It is a shame for us."
Hearing her words, Hermione raised her eyebrows. Evan knew it meant she was uncomfortable with what Winky was saying, and wanted something to be said.
Indeed, she turned her eyes to Evan the next second, with an inquiring look on her little face.
"I paid Dobby, and he had holidays!" Evan whispered, "Four Gold-Galleons a month and a day off."
"That's all!" Hermione frowned more tightly. "I never knew you were exploiting Dobby and being so cheap with him!"
Evan wanted to give Dobby more Gold-Galleons and holidays, but the house-elf did not accept them at all.
In fact, every time he asked him to do less or told him a few words of care, it would make him cry with his thighs in his arms.
Over time, Evan surrendered and stopped asking him. For house elves, more work represented more happiness!
But Hermione obviously didn't think so. From her expression, she seemed to think that Evan was squeezing cheap labor.
She knew Dobby's job. He was Evan’s full-time servant, available 24 hours a day.
With such a heavy workload, he could only get one Gold-Galleon a week. What was the difference between slaves and him?
Meanwhile, Harry's conversation with Winky continued.
"There is nothing wrong with getting paid. Dobby should also have some fun," said Harry.
"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter!" said Winky firmly from behind her hands, looking angry, directly calling Harry's full name. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, Harry Potter!" She glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped.
"Why has he sent you up here, if he knows you don’t like heights?" Harry frowned discontentedly.
"Master, master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master’s tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Unlike Dobby, Winky is a very good house-elf."
She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again.
There was a silence and everyone looked at each other. Only Hermione was frowning angrily.
"These house-elves are very strange, aren't they?" Ron muttered.
"She might be even weirder than Dobby!" Harry agreed.
"They just think too naively, but in essence they are not bad." Evan said, glancing anxiously at Hermione, "house-elves have their own way of life and customs, and we should not all high and mighty trying to interpret their views as we please, or even try to intervene.”
He didn't know if Hermione had listened, and hoped she wouldn't come up with anything like saving house-elves and changing their world.
But Evan turned to think, if Hermione didn't do that, she wouldn’t be Hermione!
This was one of Hermione’s characteristics, and it was also part of her charm. Some things were meant to be and couldn’t be changed anyway.
Evan thought for a moment. Instead of worrying about Hermione, he had to do something within his grasp.
He quietly pulled out his wand and pointed it at the empty seat beside Winky, and the subtle magic fell silently there.
It was the tracking magic that allowed Evan to take control of his current position within a certain range.
Voldemort and the vampires could save Barty Crouch Jr., but they couldn’t make a big fight. The crazy things that occurred at the fallen Centaurs’ ruins couldn’t happen here at the World Cup venue.
Suddenly, Evan remembered: every time he saw the evil god coming, in the end, because of the lack of flesh and blood, it could not keep up the expansion speed of its huge body, which eventually led to its collapse and the appearance of cracks.
The expansion of the evil god seemed to be endless. What would it look like if there were 100,000 people to supply it with flesh and blood?! Probably the entirety of England would be covered by it, and it might extend to the outside of the atmosphere.
Such a monster would be horrifying!
Soon, everyone's attention shifted from Winky to the Quidditch field.
Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.
“Wild!” he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. “I can make that old bloke down here pick his nose again … and again … and again …”
"Hermione just said that a display from the Team Mascots will precede the match. I wonder what that would be?" asked Harry curiously.
"Oh, that's always worth watching." Mr. Weasley said, "You’ll be impressed by its ending."
"This is the tradition of the World Cup. National teams bring creatures from their native land to put on a bit of a show.” Sirius said to Harry, “They are all very rare things. One year, they brought more than 30 phoenixes.”
Dumbledore had a phoenix "Fawkes", a magical animal with golden feathers and strong magic power.
The phoenix is very rare, with its origins in Egypt, India and China, and the phoenixes in different places have slight differences.
But on the whole, they are all very ornamental. It was hard to imagine what more than 30 phoenixes would look like flying around the field.
The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour.
Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards.
Sirius mostly responded with a sneer. He sat in the corner and whispered to Evan about the wizards’ past.
In front of them, Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a porcupine covered with thorns.
When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered.
Highly embarrassed, he hurriedly repaired the lens with his wand, and thereafter remained in his seat.
When Cornelius Fudge greeted Harry like an old friend, Percy threw jealous looks at Harry.
Then, Fudge saw Sirius and Evan sitting in the corner and approached them with a smile.
