#hokey

the title is the same as that of agatha christie’s 1945 novel sparkling cyanide - published in the united states as remembered death - for which there are some spoilers immediately to follow. it is not, let me be frank, agatha’s best [not least because it’s a rewrite of a poirot short story, the yellow iris] but there are several things about it which appealed to me when i was writing this: that it deals with a death initially presumed not to be murder; that it has multiple suspects, including a young man who appears to desire wealth; and that the murder weapon is a poisoned drink.

the poison - in christie’s case and in mine - is potassium cyanide. this is obviously a deviation from what we are told in half-blood prince - in which dumbledore describes the poison used to kill hepzibah as "rare" - since cyanide is probably one of the better known methods of doing away with troublesome old ladies, but it has been my headcanon for quite a while: cyanide looks very similar to sugar; it's highly soluble; its bitter taste requires something sweet [like cocoa] to mask it; it kills its victim extremely quickly; and it wouldn’t be completely bizarre for it to be found in a wizarding house. cyanide was a standard component of silver polish until surprisingly recently, and i am choosing to believe that this is the same in the wizarding world. in her interview with the aurors, eokhí just happens to mention that hepzibah wanted a pair of silver candlesticks polished the day she died, and everyone considers the matter settled.

i’ve always been fascinated by the murder of hepzibah smith, not least because - as it’s described in canon - it’s a massive deviation from voldemort’s usual modus operandi. hepzibah is the only person we know to have been poisoned by him, and the only person we know to have been killed using - essentially - a muggle method [even if the poison in jkr’s head is magical, stirring it into a cup of cocoa isn’t]. above all, i am obsessed about what it says about voldemort that the hyper-feminine [even if the text treats her attempts at femininity as ridiculous - something which eokhí agrees with] hepzibah is killed in such a feminine-coded way: poison is known in pop-culture as a "woman’s weapon" - even if statistical evidence doesn’t confirm this - and a domestic one; and the image of hepzibah dying in her own home, over a cosy cup of cocoa, as punishment for insulting voldemort’s mother [whose death kept him from that experience] is really striking.

a part of the murder which is more usual for voldemort is that he frames someone else. however, unlike with his framing of morfin gaunt for the murder of the three riddles, which is made to look deliberate, he makes eokhí’s involvement in hepzibah’s death look accidental, and eokhí appears to receive no punishment from the ministry of magic. this undoubtedly has nothing to do with any compassion for her on voldemort’s part; he chooses it because it’s the most plausible cover he can give himself, and this must be because wizards know that elves cannot deliberately harm their masters.

or, at least, think they know that.

poison’s association with women and the domestic sphere obviously means it has a reputation for being the means by which servants bump off their masters - and, specifically, how female servants bump off their mistresses. i very much like the idea of witches laughing in a self-satisfied way, thinking that they never have to worry - like silly old muggles - about being done away with by their cooks, while the loophole which elves have noticed and have been exploiting for centuries stares them right in the face.

because we see in canon that elves are perfectly capable of indirectly harming their masters - dobby spends the entirety of chamber of secrets doing it - and so, when eokhí decides she has had enough of her mistreatment at hepzibah’s hands, all she has to do is get the poison out of the cupboard, put it in a dish, and let hepzibah choke on her own arrogance.

eokhí is a type of elf we only see glimpses of in canon - one who does not want to be a slave. the house-elf plotline is the weakest in the series for many reasons, but one i always find particularly galling is that dobby’s revolutionary zeal in chamber of secrets, in which he talks of whisper networks of elves decrying their ill-treatment at the hands of wizards and celebrating voldemort’s death, vanishes in goblet of fire, when the standard elvish position seems to correspond with the wizarding one: that being a slave is great and wanting freedom is bizarre.

eokhí said fuck that. this story is one of disrespect and rage and revenge, and of the triumphant pleasure of reclaiming the space which was once used to oppress you, as eokhí goes from waking up in a nest of blankets on the kitchen floor - because she’s not allowed a real bed, unlike hepzibah - to eating the cakes she has always been denied while hepzibah lies dead in the parlour.

it is also a story of language.

we hear several elves speak in canon, although only three in any great detail: dobby, winky, and kreacher. there are differences across their speech - dobby and kreacher tend to speak in the third-person, winky tends to speak in the first-person; kreacher uses the present continuous the least, winky uses it the most - but none speak in standard british [or american] english, and there are similarities - such as a tendency to use non-standard conjugations of verbs ["i is not sure you did dobby a favour, sir"] - among all three.

in harry potter, characters who speak in non-standard english are generally coded in one of three ways: foreign [fleur, krum]; simple-minded [hagrid]; or shifty [mundungus fletcher, amycus carrow]. which - if any - of these readings is intended for elves is up for debate, although my own view is that elves’ language is intended to make the reader agree with the standard wizarding opinion that they are less sophisticated or rational than humans and that their subordinate position in wizarding society is natural and justifiable. this is, obviously, something the text partially pulls the rug from under - the underestimation of both dobby and kreacher’s powers and agency is a significant contributor to harry’s victory - but it always feels, given the series’ failure to fully stick the landing on whether it thinks slavery is a bad thing, not as pointed or ironic as it may have been intended to be.

i prefer to think of elves as having their own language, used among themselves, to which wizards have no access. but i also think that it does them a disservice to think of the language they use to interact with wizards as simply non-standard - or, more dismissively, "broken" - english. i think we should imagine that all adult elves are fluent speakers of two languages: the elvish language; and what we might call elvish creole, which - like all creole languages - is not a dialect, but a full language in its own right.

eokhí’s story is written in this language. some of its linguistic features are:

phonetics: in goblet of fire, dobby is shown to think that ron’s surname is pronounced "wheezy". he thinks this because the elvish language of course has its own phonetics, which particularly affect the transcription of proper nouns which are not habitually used in elvish or elvish creole. two examples are important to this story: the elvish language doesn’t have an aspirated h- [as in, how a speaker of standard british english would pronounce "hokey"] and it doesn’t have a plosive p- [as in, how a speaker of standard british english would pronounce "hepzibah"]. that hepzibah expects eokhí to pronounce her name properly and yet doesn’t extend this basic courtesy to her should not surprise us.

names: three elves we meet in canon - dobby, winky, and hokey - have names which end in an "ee" sound. as eokhí explains, this is because elves are usually named after nouns, and the nominative singular of nouns in the elvish language end in -í. plural nouns end in -é. [kreacher’s name appears to be an adaptation of the word "creature", which suggests that he was dehumanised to such an extent that his masters wouldn’t even make an attempt to pronounce his real name.]

elves do not speak the names of their dead. eokhí refers only to eokhí’s mother, rather than using the name she had when she was living. wizards do not realise they are being disrespected when elves use their names after they are gone.

pronouns: the elves we see in canon tend to use illeism. that is, they refer to themselves in the third-person singular - he, she - most of the time. although winky uses the first-person singular - i - regularly, dobby only uses it occasionally, and kreacher never does. they also tend to use their own names as pronouns - "kreacher is cleaning" - particularly when needing to add emphasis or clarity to sentences. eokhí never uses the first-person singular, for reasons connected to elves’ traditions about the self. she would explain to us that when elves refer to themselves as "i", they are choosing to speak standard english for the benefit of their wizarding audience, and she doesn’t feel hepzibah deserves that effort.

verbs: the elves we see in canon generally only use the third-person singular of verbs - "i says" - regardless of pronoun choice. eokhí does the same, since both elvish and elvish creole have no plural verb forms and only one grammatical person, once again connected to elves’ traditions about the self.

the elves we meet in canon also tend to use the present continuous - "my master is telling winky some things" - frequently, often in a context which would not feel intuitive for speakers of standard english. in eokhí’s speech, the present continuous is used to show actions which are repeated or habitual - "eokhí is waking up one morning in her nest on the kitchen floor" - while the simple present refers both to general statements of fact - "eokhí is a slave" - or to one-off actions "eokhí decides that is it".

in the past tense, similar principles apply: eokhí uses the past continuous - the smith family "was wanting to be looked after" by eokhí’s mother - to describe repeated or habitual actions and the simple past for general or singular events. the future continuous is used both for actions which will be repeated or habitual and for actions which will take a indeterminate time to conclude - "eokhí is going to be fighting back", her battle is not just done with hepzibah dead - rather than simple actions with a defined end-point.