Harry Potter with Technology System

A week passed, and the school was still buzzing about the tournament. Everywhere Harry went, students were either reenacting his dragon stunts, debating how he’d done it, or arguing whether it was skill or sheer insanity.

Of course, Fred and George saw an opportunity. It started in the school garden, where a group of older students gathered, led by the twins, who were already at the center of the madness. They had spongified the ground in a wide circle, turning it into a makeshift bouncing ring where students could attempt their own ‘Harry Potter Dragon Escape.’

Harry, passing by with Daphne and Tracey, stopped to watch as Lee Jordan took a running start, leapt into the air, and immediately flailed as he bounced back up, yelling.

“You lot are going to break your necks,” Daphne muttered, unimpressed.

“Which makes it perfect,” Fred said, appearing beside them with a grin. “Can’t let Harry be the only one defying the laws of common sense.”

Harry crossed his arms, watching as another student tried—and failed—to land properly, faceplanting into the ground on the rebound. “You realize the spongify charm doesn’t stop people from landing like idiots?”

George clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Exactly! Which is why we’ve got a solution—introducing safety measures, courtesy of Hermione.”

On cue, Hermione stood to the side, arms crossed, lips pursed. “It was either this, or watch half the school end up in the hospital wing.”

The ‘solution’ was four wooden pillars erected around the ring, connected by thick rubber-like bands that students could strap themselves into. Hermione had clearly taken inspiration from something Muggle-borns would recognize, but to the purebloods, it was an entirely new experience.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” Theodore said, stepping up beside them.

“Which means you secretly want to try it,” Tracey said, smirking.

“Absolutely not.”

Draco, standing nearby, scoffed. “I think you should all stop pretending and just admit Potter’s a show-off.”

Fred and George immediately latched onto him. “Then you should definitely have a go,” Fred said.

“Show us how a Malfoy handles a dragon escape,” George added, grinning.

Draco sneered at them. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Debatable,” Pansy muttered.

The Muggle-born students were already laughing at how obvious it was—this was basically a magical version of a bungee trampoline. Dean Thomas, arms crossed, shook his head. “I’ve seen this at carnivals back home. But seeing purebloods try to figure it out is something else.”

Seamus grinned. “Five Sickles says someone ends up upside down and stuck.”

As if summoned by fate, a Slytherin fourth-year took a running start, bounced high, flipped once, and immediately tangled himself in the bands. He flailed as the entire contraption wobbled, spinning him in place.

The crowd burst into laughter.

“Looks fun,” Ginny said, watching as Fred launched himself next, bouncing in perfect control before flipping mid-air and landing smoothly.

Harry rolled his eyes. “This is what you all took from my performance?”

“It’s educational,” George said, landing next to them. “Students are learning valuable skills.”

“Like how to make fools of themselves?”

“That’s a skill, too.”

Despite his skepticism, the makeshift attraction became popular fast. Even some of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students got in on it. A Durmstrang student attempted a jump, landed wrong, and got his foot caught in the bands, dangling upside down while his friends laughed.

Harry wasn’t sure what was funnier—watching the controlled chaos or seeing Karkaroff’s horrified expression when he spotted one of his own students flailing mid-air.

Shaking his head, Harry made his way down to the kitchens, hoping to grab something to eat before heading back to his dorm.

As soon as he reached the corridor leading to the kitchen entrance, he tapped on the painting of the fruit bowl, making the pear squirm and laugh before transforming into a handle. He stepped inside, the warm scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filling the air. House-elves bustled about, their small hands moving quickly as they worked.

Before he could even look for Tweak, Dobby popped into view, his ears flapping slightly as he practically vibrated with excitement. "Harry Potter, sir! Dobby has brought Winky!" He gestured beside him to a smaller elf, who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. Winky had her large eyes fixed firmly on the floor, her entire posture drooping.

Harry glanced at Winky, then back at Dobby. He recognized her from the World Cup—the elf who took Barty Crouch Jr. away. But what was she doing here?

He crouched slightly to meet her at eye level. She looked worse than the other elves—her uniform was grimy, her ears drooped, and her large, round eyes were rimmed with red.

"Hello, Winky."

The elf flinched at being addressed directly, twisting the ragged hem of her uniform in her hands. "Master Potter should not be speaking to Winky," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "Winky is a bad elf. Winky does not deserve kindness."

Harry tilted his head. "That so?"

Dobby, who was practically vibrating with nervous energy beside her, let out a dramatic sniffle. "Oh, but Harry Potter, sir, Winky is needing help! She is lost without a master!"

Winky let out a hiccupping sob at that and covered her face with her hands. "Winky is not lost! Winky is loyal! Winky is a good elf!"

Harry leaned back, watching her for a moment. "Dobby, why’d you bring her to me?"

Dobby wrung his hands, shifting from foot to foot. "Dobby thought—Dobby hoped—Harry Potter could help! Winky is... not well, sir."

That was obvious. Even compared to other house-elves, Winky looked like she had been dragged through hell. Her fingers trembled as she wiped her face, her entire posture screaming misery.

"She was Crouch's elf, wasn’t she?" Harry asked. "Got sacked after the World Cup?"

Dobby nodded furiously. "Yes, sir! Winky was blamed for Master Barty’s mistakes, and—" He shot a guilty glance at Winky before whispering, "And Winky is not handling freedom well, sir."

Harry stared at her for a second longer. It wasn’t the same as Dobby’s situation. Dobby had wanted freedom, had begged for it. Winky, on the other hand, had been thrown out and left to rot. House-elves weren’t built for that kind of abandonment.

Winky sniffled loudly, still twisting her fingers in her tattered uniform. "Winky was a good elf. Winky took care of her master, kept his secrets, kept his house, and now—now Winky is nothing."

Harry turned his attention to Winky, his expression unreadable. "You were protecting a Death Eater who wanted to kill thousands of innocent people just because he was your master. Then, when it really mattered, you took him away before the Aurors could catch him. And for all that loyalty, Crouch Jr. abandoned you?"

Winky flinched as if struck. Her large, watery eyes widened, and she stammered, "H-how does Master Potter know about little master?"

Harry exhaled, leaning slightly against the kitchen counter. "After Crouch Sr. was sent to Azkaban, you stayed in Crouch Manor. That alone was suspicious. House-elves can’t live without a master, so the former Head of the Auror Office, Amelia Bones, started looking into some of Crouch Sr.’s activities. It didn’t take her long to figure out that Crouch Jr. had been broken out of Azkaban and replaced by his mother."

Winky trembled, her fingers twisting the hem of her ragged uniform, but she didn’t deny it.

"You kept him hidden for years," Harry continued, watching her closely. "Then, when Crouch Sr. was sent to Azkaban, he ordered you to free him. Since Sr. was locked up, Jr. became the head of the family, and you had to obey." He paused, tilting his head. "So after all that, why did he abandon you?"

Winky’s breath hitched. She gripped the fabric of her uniform so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "Winky… Winky did as Master Barty asked! Winky took care of him, Winky was a good elf!" Her voice wavered, thick with distress. "But… but little master did not want Winky anymore. He said Winky was… useless."

Harry wasn’t surprised. Crouch Jr. had never been the type to show gratitude. But seeing Winky in this state—clinging to a misplaced sense of loyalty for someone who had discarded her like rubbish—was almost pathetic.

"Of course he did," Harry said flatly. "You were useful when he was stuck under house arrest. After that, you were just an inconvenience."

Winky let out a choked sound, shaking her head. "No, no! Little master cared for Winky! He did!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Then why did he get rid of you the second he was free?"

Winky squeezed her eyes shut, as if refusing to accept the truth. Dobby, standing beside her, looked between them with a pained expression.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said hesitantly. "Winky does not want to be free. Winky is lost without a master."

Harry clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. "So, what? You want to go crawling back to Crouch Jr.? The same man who threw you aside without a second thought?"

Winky let out a pitiful whimper. "Winky does not know what to do… Winky was always serving, always caring for little master… Now Winky has no purpose…"

Harry sighed. He wasn’t particularly sympathetic to Winky’s devotion to a Death Eater, but leaving her like this wasn’t exactly an option either. She was spiraling, drowning in misery.

Dobby wrung his hands, ears twitching. "Dobby thought—maybe—Harry Potter could help Winky find a new purpose! Winky is needing work, sir! She is not like Dobby! She does not want freedom!"

Harry studied the two elves. Dobby had embraced his independence, but Winky was practically falling apart without someone to serve. If he didn’t do something, she’d probably drink herself into oblivion, or worse.

After a moment, he said, "The Hogwarts elves won’t take her in?"

Dobby shuffled awkwardly. "They tried, sir, but Winky refuses to work properly. She is… not well."

Harry looked at Winky again. She was trembling, miserable, and utterly lost. And as much as he didn’t care for her past choices, he wasn’t cruel enough to leave her to self-destruct.

"You need a new master," he said simply. "One who won’t treat you like garbage."

Winky blinked up at him, her lip trembling. "Winky… Winky only ever served the Crouches…"

"And look how that turned out," Harry pointed out. "You think Crouch Jr. is going to come back and apologize? Take you in like nothing happened?" He scoffed. "Even if he wasn’t a wanted criminal, he wouldn’t give you the time of day."

Winky let out a small whimper, tears spilling down her cheeks. Dobby patted her shoulder encouragingly, nodding at Harry.

"Master Potter is right, Winky," Dobby said firmly. "Dobby was afraid too, but being free is not bad! Dobby is having wages, is having clothes, is being his own elf!"

Winky flinched at the word ‘clothes,’ but she wasn’t screaming about disgrace or punishment, which was probably the best reaction Harry could expect from her at this point.

He considered his options. The Hogwarts kitchens wouldn’t work if Winky refused to be a proper house-elf there. Sending her to another wizarding family would be risky—most purebloods still treated elves like property.

Then an idea came to him.

"I can find you work," he said. "Somewhere you won’t be miserable."

Winky sniffled, looking up at him hesitantly. "Winky… Winky does not know if Winky can work for someone else…"

Harry shrugged. "You either try, or you keep drinking yourself stupid. Up to you."

She hiccupped but didn’t argue.

Dobby beamed. "Harry Potter is the greatest wizard! He is saving Winky, just like he saved Dobby!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I’m not ‘saving’ anyone, Dobby. I’m giving her an option. It’s up to her to take it."

Winky wiped at her face with shaky hands. She looked torn, conflicted—but there was the slightest flicker of something else in her expression.

Harry didn’t push her. If she wanted to keep wallowing, that was her choice. But if she was willing to pull herself together, he’d make sure she had a place to do it.

Winky didn’t respond, but she didn’t immediately reject his offer either. Dobby practically buzzed with excitement as he watched Harry leave, clearly relieved that someone was at least trying to help her.

Harry considered Winky for a moment, then said, “I have a house. Mostly empty, but there’s a big forest around. No other people, no other elves. Just trees and creatures. You can do whatever you want there. Do you want to bind to me?”

Winky looked up at him, her wide, tear-streaked eyes searching his face like she couldn’t quite believe what he was offering. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her worn uniform, ears twitching.

“A—a house?” she echoed, her voice shaky. “A forest? For Winky?”

Harry nodded. “If you want it.”

Dobby, practically bouncing beside her, clasped his hands together. “Oh, Winky! Harry Potter is being most kind! A real home for you!”

Winky let out a small, hiccuping breath, her hands shaking as she wiped at her face. She still looked miserable, but there was something else now—hesitation, maybe even hope.

“Winky does not deserve such kindness,” she muttered, staring at the floor.

Harry didn’t bother arguing. He just said, “It’s there if you want it.”

Winky swallowed, her fingers twitching before she finally nodded. It was hesitant, barely more than a dip of her head, but it was enough.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Winky will bind to Master Potter.”

Dobby let out an excited squeak, clapping his hands. “Winky will have a home again! Winky will be happy, you will see!”

Harry pulled his briefcase from his pocket, enlarging it with a tap of his wand. He set it on the kitchen table, flipping the latches open.

Winky stepped closer, her eyes locked on the swirling magic inside the briefcase. The enchanted forest stretched beyond, thick with trees and undergrowth. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting golden patterns across the moss-covered ground. It was quiet, untouched. No human interference, no unnatural order imposed. Just nature.

Winky’s breath hitched.

“Go in,” Harry said. "And don't enter the forest without me."