Chapter 475: Ivan's Tracking Magic

Winky's perspective was that of the vast majority of house elves, and those like Dobby were in the minority.

Long-term oppression had led them to form this abnormal misconception.

The most terrible thing about house elves being slaves to wizards was that they themselves agreed to it.

Ivan knew it, but the others did not.

When he heard Winky's words, Harry asked blankly. "What's wrong with this, shouldn't it be paid for?"

Winky was horrified at the idea and closed his fingers slightly so that his face was half hidden again. "House elves don't get paid, sir!" she said with a muffled squeak. "It's the worst, the worst idea. It's bad. It's a disgrace to us."

Hearing his words, Hermione raised her eyebrows. Ivan knew that meant she was uncomfortable with what Winky was saying, and wanted to say something.

In fact, she turned her eyes to Ivan the next second, a questioning look on her small face.

"I paid Dobby, and he had a vacation." Ivan whispered, "Four gallons of gold a month and a day off. "

"That's it!" Hermione frowned harder. "I never knew you were exploiting Dobby and being so stingy with him!"

Ivan wanted to give Dobby more gold gallons and vacations, but the house elf wouldn't accept them at all.

In fact, every time he asked him to do less or said a few words of endearment, he would make him cry with his thighs in his arms.

Eventually, Ivan gave up and stopped asking her. For house elves, more work meant more happiness.

But Hermione obviously didn't think so. From her expression, she seemed to think Ivan was squeezing cheap labor.

She knew Dobby's job. He was Ivan's full-time servant, available 24 hours a day.

With such a heavy workload, he could only get a gallon of gold a week. What was the difference between slaves and him?

Meanwhile, Harry's conversation with Winky continued.

"There's nothing wrong with getting paid. Dobby should have some fun too," Harry said.

"House elves aren't supposed to have fun, Harry Potter!" said Winky firmly from behind his hands, looking angry, calling Harry's full name directly. "House elves do what they're told... I don't like heights at all, but my master sent me to the Upper Rostrum and I'm coming, Harry Potter!" She looked over the edge of the rostrum and swallowed.

"Why did he send you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" Harry frowned discontentedly.

"Master, the master wants me to save you a seat, Harry Potter. He's very busy," said Winky, tilting his head to the empty space beside him. "Winky wishes to return to Master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does as he is told. Unlike Dobby, Winky is a very good house elf."

He gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid his eyes completely again.

There was a silence and they all looked at each other. Only Hermione frowned angrily.

"These houses are really strange, aren't they?" Ron muttered.

"Maybe even weirder than Dobby!" Harry agreed.

"They think too naively, but in essence they're not evil." Ivan said, looking anxiously at Hermione, "House elves have their own way of life and customs, and we shouldn't all try to interpret their views as we please, or even try to intervene..."

He didn't know if Hermione had listened, and he hoped she wouldn't come up with anything like saving the house elf and changing their world.

But Ivan figured that if Hermione didn't, she wouldn't be Hermione!

This was one of Hermione's characteristics, and it was also part of her charm. Some things were meant to be and couldn't be changed anyway.

Ivan thought for a moment. Instead of worrying about Hermione, he had to do something within his reach.

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the empty seat next to Winky, and subtle magic fell silently there.

It was tracking magic that allowed Ivan to take control of his current position within a certain range.

Voldemort and the vampires were able to save Barty Crouch Jr. but they couldn't put up much of a fight.

The crazy things that happened in the ruins of the fallen centaurs couldn't happen here, at the World Cup venue.

Suddenly, Ivan remembered: every time he saw the evil god coming, in the end, because of the lack of blood flesh, he could not keep up with the speed of expansion of his huge body, which eventually led to its collapse and the appearance of cracks.

The expansion of the evil god seemed to be endless. What would it look like if there were 100,000 people to supply him with flesh and blood? Probably the whole of England would be covered by it, and it could spread to the outer atmosphere.

Such a monster would be horrifying!

Soon, everyone's attention shifted from Winky to the Quidditch pitch.

Ron pulled out his omnioculars and began testing them, looking at the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, turning the replay button on the side. "I can see that old man down here picking his nose again... and again... and again... and again..."

"Hermione just said that an exhibition of the team mascots will precede the match. I wonder what that will be," Harry asked curiously.

"Oh, that's always worth watching. "Mr. Weasley said, "You'll be impressed by their finish."

"This is the tradition of the World Cup. The national teams bring creatures from their homeland to put on a bit of a show. "Sirius said to Harry, "They're all very strange things.... One year, they brought over 30 phoenixes. "

Dumbledore had a "Fawkes" phoenix, a magical animal with golden feathers and strong magical power.

The phoenix is very rare, with its origins in Egypt, India and China, and phoenixes from different places have slight differences.

But in general, they are all very ornamental. It was hard to imagine what more than 30 phoenixes would look like flying around the field.

The grandstand gradually filled up around them over the next half hour.

Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards.

Sirius responded with a sneer. He sat in a corner and whispered to Ivan about the wizarding past.

In front of them, Percy stood up so often it looked like he was trying to sit on a porcupine covered in thorns.

When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his spectacles fell off and broke.

Greatly embarrassed, he quickly repaired the lens with his wand, then remained in his seat.

When Cornelius Fudge greeted Harry like an old friend, Percy looked at him enviously.

Then, Fudge saw Sirius and Ivan sitting in the corner and approached them with a smile.