I was taking a ‘well-earned break.’ But the word ‘break’ was deceiving. It usually meant ‘We won’t be seeing each other again’ or, in my case, ‘No need to come back to work. Ever.’
I was far too young to retire, though my reflection might disagree. I stared down at my polished counter-top; the woman pursed her lips back at me. She did not look forty-eight. She looked like she should have retired years ago. I frowned at her, the victim of all my hard-work. After all, my work was what had led me here today. But I knew I did not regret a single thing.
I was anxious to get busy, when I was supposed to be doing the exact opposite. But there would be little for me to do around here, with no children around to make a mess for me to clean. It wasn’t as if I was a neat-freak, either. I just longed for something to do.
It was the first day of my ‘well-earned break’ and it was already feeling like torture. I longed for a conversation with Rose, even Hugo. But they, like the rest of the world, would be at work.
I sighed, drawing my attention away from my own reflection and walked over to the living room. I rested my hands on the back of the couch, glaring at the thirty inch plasma screen that inhabited my home. It had been a house-warming gift from Ron’s father. After Hugo had moved out, we had decided to make the move to a small Muggle suburb. Arthur insisted he supply us with a television set, or else the neighbours might start asking questions. I didn’t bother pointing out that my Muggle parents didn’t own a television either as I knew both Arthur and Ron had their minds made up. The worst part was, they had their hearts set on installing it themselves – without magic. Though neither suffered any electrical shocks or obtained injuries, I still refused to turn on the wretched thing.
Today, however, I was tempted.
I walked around the edge of the couch, taking a timid seat on the arm. I reached over to retrieve the remote that Ron had left in the crack between the cushions. As soon as I hit the on button, there was no going back. I had become a house-wife, with nothing to do but watch day-time television. The content was awful, of course. I flicked between American sitcoms and Australian soap-operas and by the time I heard the faint crack that was my husband returning home, I knew I had lost my mind.
I hit the power button on the remote and carefully placed it back where I had found it, destroying the evidence.
‘Hermione?’ I heard him call from the hallway. I leaped through the door and into the hall, looking forward to some human interaction.
I planted a firm kiss on his cheek. ‘Thank goodness you’re home.’
‘Tell me about it,’ he sighed. Ron looked as exhausted as I had so often felt after a day at work. But this wasn’t what had me concerned. I could tell there was something else troubling him.
‘Bad day,’ I said, not needing an answer.
He nodded as I followed him into the kitchen. He sank into a dining chair and put his head in his hands.
‘What’s happened?’ I asked warily, rubbing his shoulder.
‘I got called out today,’ Ron said, placing clenched fists on the table, ‘to a disturbance a neighbour had reported. She said the owner of the house was named Alistair Cross. They reckoned it sounded pretty bad so they wanted someone superior to accompany the Aurors. But when we got there, it was dead silent. The neighbour said she heard definite yelling, maybe a child crying, then a crash. We thought we better check it out anyway, so I went in first.’
I rarely had to worry about Ron’s safety now that he spent most of his time inside the Ministry, but as I pictured Ron entering this house, a possible crime scene, I felt chills shiver down my spine.
‘We searched the place, all but the basement. So I headed down there, expecting it to be empty, too.’ He paused for a moment, as if he had trouble remembering the next part. ‘There was a man, the owner of the house, still on the floor. I’d expected that the offender would have fled the place before we got there, but standing over the man was a house-elf.’
I frowned at Ron, not knowing where this was going.
‘She held a wand in her hand; it was still pointed at his chest. She didn’t look up at me; she just stared down at him. But the crazy part was that she was smiling. You’d think a house-elf would be punishing itself after it’d just murdered its master, but she looked bloody pleased with herself.’
‘You don’t know that she murdered him,’ I immediately said.
He looked up at me, narrowing his eyes. ‘She had the wand in her hand, Hermione. They did the test. Last spell cast was the Killing Curse.’
I bit my lip. There had to be some other explanation, but Ron would only say, ‘I saw what I saw.’
‘They don’t know what to do with her,’ he said. ‘Azkaban’s no place for a house-elf, and she can Apparate out of anywhere. She hasn’t tried yet, though. We’ve got someone with her at all times.’ I didn’t feel like he was speaking to me anymore; he was just going over the details for himself. He sighed. ‘We weren’t prepared for this. A house-elf hasn’t been arrested for years. They wouldn’t dare break the law without a direct order from their master.’
I knew all of this, and more. This was why the situation kept me thinking long after Ron had gone upstairs to take a nap. I knew there had to be more to this story as it wasn’t in an elf’s nature to kill. Then again, I knew it would be absurd to suggest that all house-elves were good and innocent. But I also knew that the bad ones could change, I’d witnessed that first-hand with Kreacher. The mystery in this case had definitely caught my attention.
I later joined Ron upstairs, lying down beside him and staring up at the ceiling.
‘Ron,’ I said.
‘Mm?’ His eyes were closed, but he had clearly not slept at all.
‘What was the name of the elf?’ I asked curiously.
He was quiet for a moment. ‘She said her name was Honey.’
‘I want to take her case,’ I said suddenly. I felt Ron stiffen beside me.
‘What? Why?’ He turned towards me, a look of bemusement across his face.
Why? I didn’t know why. I hadn’t worked with house-elves for years. Nor had had I defended one, let alone an alleged murderer. I was a prosecutor, I sent down wizards and witches who abused the rights of elves, not the other way around.
‘I think it’s something I need to do, Ron,’ was all I could come up with.
‘You’re supposed to be taking a break from work,’ he said incredulously.
All the more reason to take the case, I thought. Neither of us spoke for awhile, both mulling over my bomb-shell decision in our minds.
‘Honey,’ I said after a moment. ‘That’s an unusual name for a house-elf.’
Ron cleared his throat loudly. ‘It’s also unusual for a house-elf to commit a murder.’ He then turned away from me. We both lay there in silence, noticing how quickly this event had impacted our lives.
I wanted to know where they were keeping Honey. Ron had said Azkaban wouldn’t have her, so I assumed she was still somewhere inside the Ministry. This is why I had pulled on my best set of robes as soon had Ron left for work, grabbed some Floo Powder and shouted ‘Ministry of Magic’ into my fire place.
As I emerged from the emerald flames, I found myself inside the Atrium, surrounded by a very fast paced stream of wizards and witches. I joined them, walking briskly in the direction of the lifts. I had to fight my way through the crowd to earn myself a spot in the nearest lift, receiving a few bothered looks from those eager to get to their offices, but I ignored them. I was anxious to find Honey. If they had already found somebody to defend her, there would be little chance I would be allowed on the case.
I tapped my foot impatiently while the lift edged along. At last, it pulled to a stop at level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. My old office was at the far end of the Department, so I found myself jogging slightly in effort to get there.
I swung myself into the familiar office and scanned the room for who I wanted to see. He was, thank Merlin, already there. Amos Diggory sat at the desk to the right of the room, closed eyes, rubbing his leathered temples with his index fingers. He had so gallantly returned to work not years after the death of his son. How was it that I had been asked to leave work before this man?
‘Amos,’ I said breathlessly, taking a seat in front of him.
His eyes blinked open; clearly he had not heard me enter at all. ‘Hermione!’ He smiled. ‘What’re you doing down here?’
I decided to get straight to the point. ‘I want to defend Honey the house-elf; she’s been arrested for the murder of Alistair Cross. Where can I find her?’
He frowned at me. ‘Hermione-’
‘Has somebody already been assigned to her case?’ I interrupted.
‘Well, no.’ He paused for a moment. ‘It’s just that, well... you don’t work for this Department anymore.’
‘I’m well aware of that,’ I said curtly. ‘But as I’m no longer part of any Department and I’ve got more experience with elves than the entire Ministry combined, I think I’d be the best person for the job.’
‘You left the Law Enforcement?’ he asked dully.
I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. ‘More or less.’
He didn’t speak for a few minutes. I feared he would turn me down.
‘Hermione,’ he said slowly. ‘You don’t even defend criminals, you protect the rights of Magical Creatures. Well, you did while you worked for us.’
I groaned. ‘That’s because no Magical Creature became a criminal while I worked here. Just let me meet her, Amos. It’s all I’m asking.’
He shook his head, sighing. ‘All right, but I’m coming with you. You’ve been out of the job for too long.’
I smiled. ‘I think I remember how to handle a conversation with a house-elf, Amos.’
He stood up, chuckling slightly. ‘Believe me, Hermione. Honey isn’t your average house-elf.’
I don’t know what I had expected to gain from my meeting with Honey. Nor did I know what to expect from her. Would she be quiet and timid, or rampant and unstable?
Amos led me to the second floor, Department of Magical law Enforcement. They were keeping her in an unused office with at least one Auror with her at all times. The Auror had to be physically touching her, so if she were to attempt Apparition, someone would be dragged along with her.
The job description for Aurors had been edited drastically since downfall of Voldemort. As the crime rate fell exceedingly, Aurors were faced with more tedious and less-exciting roles. This, apparently, included babysitting homicidal House-elves. Allegedly homicidal.
As we approached the office where Honey was being held, I noticed a second man had been placed outside the door. I assumed we would have to sweet-talk our way in. Amos, however, must have felt otherwise.
He approached the Auror with such a strong sense of superiority that I was slightly taken aback. Age had clearly only given this man more determination to succeed.
‘Hello,’ Amos said to the Auror. ‘My name is Amos Diggory, Head of Magical Creature Liaison. This is Hermione Granger, an expert in Elfish Welfare. We’d like to speak with Honey.’
The man began to look distressed, torn between obeying a man with such confidence and doing what he was supposed to. He went for the latter. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible, Sir.’
‘Honey has been accused of murder, am I correct?’ Amos persisted. The man nodded. ‘Has she yet been presented with any legal advice?’ He shook his head, I gasped.
‘I am defending Honey,’ I found myself saying in a wave of fury. Amos turned to stare at me. ‘And as her lawyer, I have the right to private meetings in order to build up her defence.’
I noticed Amos roll his eyes. ‘This is true,’ he sighed.
The Auror knew we were right, and also knew that if he didn’t let me in he could be facing a legal battle of his own. ‘Very well,’ he muttered. He pulled out his wand and tapped the door several times in a complication fashion. The door sprang open.
I peered inside. The room was almost empty, besides a long bench that stretched out across the back wall. Upon it sat another Auror, and laced over his arm was a strong-looking metal band that connected to a smaller wrist next to his. The wrist belonged to Honey.
Her appearance startled me. She was, perhaps, one of the more attractive house-elves I’d seen. Her skin was smooth and pale, her round eyes outlined with long lashes. But the part of her that most caught my attention was her attire. Honey was wearing a clean, white dress.
‘Who gave her the dress?’ I muttered to Amos as we both entered the office.
‘Her master, I suppose,’ he whispered back. ‘It’s not uncommon these days.’
This was true. But it still felt strange to me. I was sure I had expected to meet someone with a Kreacher-like manner. But instead I found an elf who was well nourished and tidy looking. She almost looked angelic, innocent. But this gave me no indication as to whether or not she was guilty.
‘These two want a word with their client,’ the Auror at the door said to his colleague. The man chained to Honey nodded, but showed no desire to leave. I knew it would be difficult to gain her trust with an Auror in the room.
‘Honey,’ I said anyway, stepping forward. ‘My name is Hermione Granger. I’m going to be defending you before the Wizengamot.’
I heard Amos clear his throat behind me, angered by my self-appointment. But this didn’t matter; I had caught Honey’s attention. She looked up at me, her wide eyes scrutinizing me carefully. ‘Hello, Miss,’ she said politely. Once again, she had in me awe of her. It was in a house-elf’s nature to be courteous, but I had not expected it of this particular elf.
I stepped a little closer to her, though not trying to be intimidating. ‘Honey,’ I said. ‘If these two Aurors were to leave us alone-’ Amos coughed again, ‘with Mr Diggory here, of course. You’d stay put, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t try to Apparate?’ I kept my tone pleasant, but made sure it didn’t sound patronizing. I’d learned years ago that if house-elves were to be treated as equals, I myself would need to stop behaving as their superior.
She watched me curiously. ‘Of course not,’ she said.
I looked between the two Aurors. ‘Well?’ I asked. They did not look convinced. ‘Fine, then. Put those cuffs on me.’
‘I don’t think that would be appropriate...’ one said.
I raised my eyebrows. ‘And would it be appropriate for you to overhear confidential discussions between lawyer and client?’ Neither spoke. ‘I didn’t think so. Now if you will...’ I indicated to my wrist and then Honey’s.
They Aurors exchanged glances, and I could hear Amos muttering something along the lines of ‘What have I got myself into?’ But, before I knew it, I was chained to Honey and she and I were alone with Amos.
The chains were similar to those used by Muggle Police, only these felt like they weren’t there at all.
My job now was to make Honey feel comfortable with me. This didn’t appear to be a problem at all though. She wasn’t fidgeting or scared-looking. She simply stared around the room as if its emptiness was intriguing.
Honey was a young house-elf, young enough for her mind to be malleable. My first assumption was that she could easily have been persuaded to commit murder, perhaps by another family member whose orders she could not disobey. After meeting this elf, the thought of her coming up with the idea herself seemed absurd.
The other option, one I myself preferred, was that she was not a murderer at all. Somebody may have killed the man, told Honey to hold the wand and fled before Ron had even made it to the scene.
But this did not explain why Honey had been smiling over the body of her master. If he had in fact cared for her as well as it appeared he had, she would not have been pleased over his death. The fact that she was smiling at the crime scene could go against us, or work in our favour. If Honey had been subjected to any form of abuse, I had myself a defence.
‘All right,’ I said after I had processed my thoughts. ‘Normally, I would ask for your account of the events that took place yesterday, Honey. But because you’re the one who has been arrested, I’m going to ask that you not tell me anything.’
The house-elf look puzzled, almost disappointed, but nodded.
Amos had taken to pacing the room. I could tell he felt uncomfortable being here, like we were doing something wrong. I wanted to assure him that I wasn’t going to mess this up, I’d had plenty of experience with elves, but I felt I’d better focus my attention on Honey.
‘I will, however, ask you a few questions about your life, your past. You can answer those truthfully.’
‘Okay,’ she squeaked.
I glanced up at Amos, awaiting his approval to move forward. He nodded reluctantly.
‘Honey,’ I began. ‘Was your master named Alistair Cross?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That is his name.’
‘Did Alistair give you that dress?’ She nodded enthusiastically. ‘But he didn’t want to set you free, just for you to have clothes?’
‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘His words exactly, Miss.’
After a few minutes of conversing with Honey, I’d learned that she, unlike other house-elves, did not speak in third-person, and that she always got straight to the point. I’d also learned that Alistair Cross was the first person Honey had worked for, and he was wealthy enough to own a fairly large house because he had inherited a small fortune when his father passed away. She also informed me that Alistair wasn’t married, had no children and lived alone, not including Honey. He had been in between careers when he had died but Honey assured me Alistair was quite a talented painter.
But the detail about Alistair Cross that struck me the most was that he had only been nineteen - the same age as my son. I began to wonder if Hugo had known him from Hogwarts, perhaps they had even been friends. I felt goose bumps rise on my skin, and I immediately felt the need to speak to Hugo.
I pushed the thought out of my mind, and continued to question Honey. ‘This, I’m afraid, you might find difficult to answer...’ The answer Honey gave to this could make or break our case. ‘Did Alistair ever physically hurt you, Honey?’
She looked horrified, even offended. ‘No, Miss, certainly not.’
Her response was clear, and I believed her. This was what I had dreaded, yet hoped for at the same time.
‘Did he ever emotionally abuse you?’ This was a last resort. Honey shook her head strongly.
I was left with nothing. If Honey had not been hurt by her master, I could not use self-defence as justification in front of the Wizengamot.
‘Amos, please tell the guard to release me, we’re finished for the day.’
As he left the room to inform the Aurors, I turned back to Honey. ‘Thank you for speaking with me today, Honey. I promise everything you’ve told me will help your case.’ This was a lie, but she needed reassurance.
The Aurors had returned; they began to release me and secure Honey back to the same man as before.
I was about to turn and leave, but remembered something. ‘Oh, and one last thing,’ I said to both Honey and the Auror. ‘The first thing I’ll be working on is getting you out of those handcuffs and into somewhere private.’ When Honey’s face lit up, her grin was infectious. I struggled to hold a professional and composed face. ‘If you have any questions for me, let the guards know they are to contact me. From now on, you are not to discuss this case with anyone besides me. Can you do that, Honey?’
The elf nodded solemnly. ‘I can, Miss.’
I smiled at her. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
As I followed Amos Diggory back to the office we used to share, I realised that even though she had not supplied me with the answers I had hoped for, Honey had already found herself a small place in my heart.