Night Thoughts

Winky's big eyes flickered with hesitation, but the ingrained instinct to serve its young master ultimately won out.

It shakily got up from the floor, and a few seconds later, a cup of steaming 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... we house-elves don't need to sleep. Winky was just cleaning..."

Lucretia asked, "Is it because of what happened this morning? That wasn't your fault."

As soon as the matter was mentioned, Winky's eyes immediately reddened, and large, tear-like drops welled up in its lantern-like eyes.

It clutched its ears, its voice choked with sobs, "Winky is bad... Winky is too stupid... Winky didn't notice the problem with the plate... Winky is sorry, Madam... sorry, Miss..."

Lucretia didn't dare reach out to wipe its tears, fearing it would shrink into a corner like before. She could only comfort it softly, "Don't say that, Winky. You have so many things to do every day, and you're already doing very well. I'm not blaming you, don't cry, okay?"

Winky clutched its ears with both hands, shaking its head while sobbing, "Young Master... wasn't like this before. When Young Master was sick, Winky took care of him. He would even whisper secrets to Winky... but recently..."

It stopped abruptly halfway through its sentence, its big eyes filled with terror, and it frantically covered its mouth with its hands.

"Winky shouldn't talk about Master's affairs... Miss didn't hear... Miss heard nothing..."

Lucretia quietly drank her honey water. "You care about him a lot."

Winky's voice was tearful. "Young Master is good... at heart, it's just that recently... he always locks his door tight. His face isn't good at breakfast, and Winky wanted him to eat a little more... but Young Master... wouldn't even glance at Winky..."

The crescent moon outside cast fragmented shadows on the floor, and silence fell in the kitchen for a moment.

Lucretia looked at the moon outside and said softly, "I know, Winky. Don't worry, everything will be alright."

Winky hesitated for a long time before mustering the courage to lift its head, secretly observing Lucretia's profile. Its tone was cautious. "Winky... Winky has never met a young master like this... Miss is too good to Winky... Winky... doesn't know how to thank Miss..."

Lucretia smiled and interrupted it. "You are also a member of this family, Winky. You don't have to hide from me anymore. We can talk like friends in private. Of course, in front of others, we still have to maintain appearances."

Winky's eyes lit up. "Really? Winky can... can be friends with Miss?"

"Of course," Lucretia nodded. "But for now, perhaps you should go rest? You look exhausted."

Winky wiped its tears and managed a tearful smile. "Winky is fine, Miss should rest. Mistress instructed that Miss's health is not good and requires ample sleep and nutrition! But when Winky was cleaning at night, I could hear Miss's sounds in her sleep... Was Miss having a nightmare?"

Little Barty had originally just intended to get a book from his father's library.

Ever since Lucretia arrived, he had developed the habit of reading late at night.

Only when everyone else was asleep did the house become quiet like it used to be.

But tonight, he faintly heard soft footsteps coming from the corridor.

She's not sleeping soundly in the middle of the night, what is she sneaking around to do now?

Little Barty instinctively hid in the shadows behind the door, held his breath, and opened a small gap.

Moonlight slanted in through the window, outlining her small figure.

She seemed to have had a nightmare, her hair was messy, and her shoulders were trembling slightly.

Hmph...

Keep pretending. Keep pretending.

Little Barty sneered inwardly.

He had seen plenty of these little tricks.

Every time his father took him to those so-called respectable gatherings, the daughters of Ministry of Magic officials would all put on this pitiful act to curry favor with others.

This trick wouldn't work on him; he had seen through it long ago.

Only after Lucretia's figure had completely disappeared down the hallway did he crouch down at the turn of the stairs, prick up his ears, and listen for sounds downstairs.

The conversation coming from the kitchen made his brow furrow. He felt a vague sense of annoyance and unease.

"Young Master... wasn't like this before. When Young Master was sick, Winky took care of him. He would even whisper secrets to Winky... but recently..."

That was a long time ago.

Little Barty clenched his fist.

Back when he naively believed that simply performing well would earn his father's attention.

Back when he would be excited to share a successful spell with someone.

But what of it?

Now his parents brought home a girl of unknown origin, and he was expected to show the proper courtesy of the Crouch family?

"You are also a member of this family, Winky."

The word "also" in her sentence inexplicably stung Little Barty, and a wave of vexation suddenly surged in his heart, like a blockage of turbid air.

Why was she so good to Winky?

Was she trying to buy the house-elf's loyalty and then put on a show for their parents?

But...

If you think this book is good, don't forget to add it to your bookshelf so you don't lose it next time.

It was late at night now, and his parents were asleep.

She didn't need to maintain that pretense of gentleness and consideration at this point.

Winky's voice sounded again, "Winky can hear Miss's voice in her dreams when Winky cleans at night... Is Miss having a nightmare?"

Little Barty narrowed his eyes.

He had walked in yesterday after hearing muffled sobs from her room.

But so what?

Isn't that how she acted?

Putting on that frail appearance, a little liar skilled at winning people over.

Unknowingly, the aroma of honeyed water wafted up, entering his nose.

That was what Winky used to make for him often late at night.

A nameless rage surged up Little Barty's forehead once more.

He quietly retreated back into his room and took out the wand lying on the table.

There was still some distance to the corridor she would pass on her way back to her room, enough for him to set a little surprise.

Anyway, his parents wouldn't discover who did it by morning.

Even if she went to complain, he had already prepared his excuses.

It was an accident, an unforeseen event, there were plenty of reasons.

Let's see how long you can keep this act up, my good "sister."

A cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he began to cast a spell on the carpet.

When she went upstairs after finishing her tea, she was sure to have a memorable night.

When footsteps finally sounded, Little Barty hid around the corner.

She walked very lightly, as if afraid of disturbing anyone's rest.

Under the moonlight, her figure appeared particularly frail.

Now!

Little Barty raised his wand, quietly and intently chanting the incantation.

The carpet instantly became as soft as quicksand, and anyone who stepped on it would sink in.

However, he still held back, intending only to embarrass her, not to injure her.

After all...

Wait, why was he holding back?

In the instant he was lost in thought, Lucretia had already stepped onto it.

The carpet suddenly became as soft as quicksand, and with a startled cry that never left her lips, she stumbled and fell to the ground. The teacup in her hand rolled away.

Little Barty had expected to feel a sliver of vengeful pleasure, but seeing her struggling to get up only to fall back to the ground powerlessly, a strange feeling welled up in his heart, like a feather gently tickling him, odd and unfamiliar.

The moonlight shone on her pale little face, her beautiful blue-gray eyes cast down, making it impossible for him to understand what this girl was thinking.

Was she about to cry?

Or was she angry?

As he was lost in his own thoughts, Lucretia gave up on trying to get up and sink again. She simply picked up the teacup with effort, hugged it to her chest, and huddled closer to the wall.

Wait, this scene was inexplicably familiar...

Wasn't it just like that time after Father's furious outburst, when he himself had curled up in the corner of his room, hugging his knees and staring blankly?

No, he shouldn't have this feeling.

She was just pretending to be pitiful, trying to gain sympathy...

Stop pretending!

Let's see how long you can keep it up before you slip!

Go cry and complain to Mother and Father!

But when Lucretia finally stood up, there was no trace of resentment or anger on her face. She simply glanced calmly in the direction he was hiding.

"Good night, Barty. Sleep well."

That tone, however, made Little Barty's heart tremble.

That soft "good night" entered his ears, stirring up a blockage in his chest.

Amidst the irritation was a thread of... an indescribable emotion.

Similar to... guilt?