Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"
"Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"
"Oh no, sir, no," said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. "'Tis part of the house- elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir. We upholds the family honor, and we never speaks ill of them—though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to—to—" Dobby looked suddenly nervous and beckoned Harry closer. Harry bent forward. Dobby whispered, "He said we is free to call him a—barmy old codger if we likes, sir!" Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle. "But Dobby is not wanting to, Harry Potter," he said, talking normally again, and shaking his head so that his ears flapped. "Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him."
Here and there at the dark windows, Harry saw faces faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks.
"No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," he said. "What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does."
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