A flicker of hesitation passed through Winky's large eyes, but the instinct to serve her young master prevailed.
She trembled as she climbed up from the floor, and seconds later, a steaming cup of honey water appeared on the table.
Lucretia sat down at the dining table. "Thank you, Winky. Can't you sleep tonight either?"
Winky stammered, "Miss... House-elves like us don't need sleep. Winky was just cleaning..."
Lucretia asked, "Is this because of what happened this morning? It wasn't your fault."
At the mention of it, Winky's eyes immediately reddened, tears as large as beans welling in those lantern-like eyes.
She grabbed her ears, her voice choked with sobs. "It was Winky's fault... Winky was too stupid... Winky didn't notice there was something wrong with the breakfast tray... Winky is sorry, Madam... sorry, Miss..."
Lucretia did not dare reach out to wipe away her tears, afraid Winky would shrink into a corner again like before. She could only comfort her softly. "Don't say that, Winky. You have so much to do every day, and you've already done very well. I'm not blaming you, so don't cry, all right?"
Winky clutched her ears tightly in both hands, shaking her head as she sobbed. "Master wasn't... like this before. Whenever he was sick, Winky took care of him. He would even whisper secrets to Winky... But lately..."
She stopped halfway through, terror filling her large eyes as she hastily covered her mouth with both hands.
"Winky shouldn't talk about her master... Miss didn't hear anything... didn't hear anything at all..."
Lucretia quietly sipped her honey water. "You care about him very much."
Winky's voice was thick with tears. "Master is... kind deep down. It's just that lately... he keeps his bedroom door locked tight. His face looks bad at breakfast too. Winky wanted him to eat one more bite... but Master... wouldn't even glance at Winky..."
Outside the window, the crescent moon scattered broken shadows across the floor, and the kitchen fell silent for a while.
Lucretia gazed at the moon outside and said softly, "I know, Winky. Don't worry. Everything will get better."
Winky hesitated for a long time before finally gathering the courage to look up. She secretly studied Lucretia's profile, her tone cautious. "Winky... Winky has never met a young mistress like this... Miss is too kind to Winky... Winky... Winky doesn't even know how to thank Miss..."
Lucretia smiled and interrupted her. "You're part of this family too, Winky. You don't have to hide from me anymore. When we're alone, we can talk like friends. Of course, in front of everyone else, we still need to keep up appearances."
Winky's eyes lit up. "Really? Winky can... can be friends with Miss?"
"Of course." Lucretia nodded. "But now, perhaps you should rest for a while? You look exhausted."
Winky wiped away her tears and smiled through them. "Winky is fine. Miss should be the one resting. The mistress instructed Winky that Miss is in poor health and needs enough sleep and nourishment! But when Winky cleans at night, Winky can hear Miss making sounds in her sleep... Is Miss having nightmares?"
Little Barty had only wanted to fetch a book from his father's library.
Ever since Lucretia arrived, he had developed the habit of reading late at night.
Only when everyone was asleep did the house become as quiet as it used to be.
But tonight, faint footsteps sounded from the corridor.
She's sneaking around in the middle of the night instead of sleeping. What is she plotting now?
Little Barty instinctively hid in the shadows behind the door, held his breath, and opened it a crack.
Moonlight slanted in through the window, outlining her small, thin figure.
She seemed to have had a nightmare. Her hair was a mess, and her shoulders trembled faintly.
Hmph...
Keep pretending, then.
Little Barty sneered inwardly.
He had seen plenty of tricks like this.
Whenever his father took him to those so-called respectable gatherings, the daughters of those Ministry of Magic officials all put on the same pitiful act to curry favor with others.
That trick would not work on him. He had seen through it long ago.
Only after Lucretia's figure had completely vanished down the corridor did he crouch at the corner of the stairs and strain his ears to listen to the sounds downstairs.
But the conversation drifting from the kitchen made him frown, and a vague restlessness stirred within him.
"Master wasn't... like this before. Whenever he was sick, Winky took care of him. He would even whisper secrets to Winky... But lately..."
That had been a long time ago.
Little Barty clenched his fists.
Back when he had still naively believed that working hard would earn his father's attention.
Back when he had still eagerly sought someone to share his excitement with after successfully casting a spell.
But so what?
Now his parents had brought some girl of unknown origin into their home and expected him to display the courtesy befitting the Crouch family?
"You're part of this family too, Winky."
That word too in her sentence inexplicably stung Little Barty. A sudden wave of irritation surged through him, as though a mass of foul air had lodged in his chest.
Why was she so nice to Winky?
Was she trying to win over the House-elf's loyalty, then put on a show for his parents?
But...
It was the middle of the night now. His parents were asleep.
There was no need for her to maintain that gentle, considerate facade at a time like this.
Winky's voice sounded again. "When Winky cleans at night, Winky can hear Miss making sounds in her sleep... Is Miss having nightmares?"
Little Barty narrowed his eyes.
Yesterday, he had gone into her room only because he had heard her muffled sobbing.
But so what?
Wasn't that just part of her act?
A frail-looking little liar, skilled at winning people over.
Before he knew it, the fragrance of honey water drifted upstairs and slipped into his nose.
Winky used to make that for him in the middle of the night.
An inexplicable fury flared up in Little Barty once more.
He silently retreated to his room and took out the wand lying on the table.
There was still some distance between here and the corridor she would have to pass through on her way back to her room—enough for him to arrange a little surprise.
His parents would not find out who did it tomorrow morning anyway.
Even if she went to complain, he had already prepared his excuses.
An accident, carelessness—weren't there plenty of reasons?
Let's see how long you can keep acting, my dear "sister."
A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips as he began casting a spell on the carpet.
When she went upstairs after finishing her tea, she would surely have an unforgettable night.
When the footsteps finally sounded, Little Barty hid around the corner.
She walked very lightly, as though afraid of disturbing anyone's rest.
In the moonlight, that figure looked especially frail.
Now!
Little Barty raised his wand and murmured the spell with focused concentration.
The carpet instantly became as soft as quicksand. Anyone who stepped on it would sink in.
Still, he had shown restraint. He only wanted to embarrass her, not actually hurt her.
After all...
Wait, why was he showing restraint?
In the instant he lost focus, Lucretia had already stepped onto it.
The carpet suddenly softened like quicksand. Before she could even cry out, she staggered and fell to the floor, the teacup in her hand rolling away beside her.
Little Barty had expected to feel a trace of satisfaction from revenge, but when he saw her struggle to stand only to collapse helplessly back onto the floor, an odd feeling rose within him, like a feather lightly scratching at his heart—strange and unfamiliar.
Moonlight shone on her pale little face. Those beautiful blue-gray eyes remained lowered, leaving him unable to understand what the girl was thinking.
Was she about to cry?
Or was she angry?
As his thoughts ran wild, Lucretia gave up trying to rise and sink back down again. She merely picked up the teacup with difficulty, hugged it to her chest, and shrank closer to the wall.
Wait, this scene felt strangely familiar...
Wasn't it just like the time after his father had flown into a rage, when he had curled up in the corner of his room, hugging his knees and staring blankly into space?
No, he should not feel this way.
She was only pretending to be pitiful, trying to gain sympathy...
What are you pretending for?!
Let's see how long you can keep it up before you're exposed!
Go ahead, run crying to Father and Mother to complain!
But when Lucretia finally stood up, there was no resentment or anger on her face. She merely glanced calmly in the direction where he was hiding.
"Good night, Barty. Sweet dreams."
That tone made Little Barty's heart tremble instead.
That soft good night slipped into his ears and twisted something tight in his chest.
Irritation mixed with a trace of... an emotion he could neither name nor understand.
Something like... guilt?
Before you continue