Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1439: Evan's Lecturing
“Then let them lock me up, like anyone cares,” said Elaine stubbornly.
“You don’t care?” Evan asked.
“Nope, I don’t care!”
“In Azkaban, aside from the Dementors, no one’s going to bring you dragon blood, no one’s handing out bloody lollipops, and there’s definitely no warm milk before bed either.”
With every sentence Evan said, Elaine’s expression grew darker.
“So what do they eat?”
“I don’t know about the other prisoners, but if you go in, they’ll definitely make you drink troll blood.”
“Troll blood? Someone actually drinks that stuff?!” Elaine made a gagging face. “I don’t want to go to Azkaban, but you saw how he acted. He hit me and did such horrible things to Harry. What, you expect me to just stand by and do nothing? If I were acting like a vampire, that jerk would’ve vanished by now.”
“This is Hogwarts. You should use a wizard’s way to get revenge,” Evan lectured. “Hmm, you can wait until the school hands down his punishment, then when no one’s around, give him a good beating. If you’re still angry, just keep beating him until you feel better.”
“Is this the wizard’s way of revenge?” Elaine looked at him. “It’s so simple.”
“There are loads of wizarding ways to take revenge. If beating him up doesn’t do it for you, you can use Transfiguration — turn him into a rat or something, then lock him up with a bunch of female rats,” said Evan. “There are also plenty of nasty curses. Turn him into a bat demon or whatever. Or use potions. Trust me, there are many potions that’ll make him wish he was dead. Like…”
Noticing that Elaine was looking at him admiringly, Evan’s voice became lower and lower. What was he saying to this child?
He was supposed to spread positive energy and tell Elaine not to be so impulsive and irritable, but now…
Evan suddenly realized that spending too much time around her was making him more and more devious, too.
He should’ve let Hermione talk to her instead — someone who’d actually bring up things like school rules…
While Evan was busy lecturing little Elaine, trying to help her develop a proper moral compass, Harry happened to wake up.
He blinked and looked around, finding himself lying in a remarkably warm and comfortable bed and looking up at a lamp that was throwing a circle of golden light onto a shadowy ceiling. It took him a while before he realized where he was.
Of course, he was in the school hospital wing. The sky outside was indigo streaked with crimson. The match must have finished hours ago … as had any hope of cornering Malfoy.
Harry’s head felt strangely heavy; he raised a hand and felt a stiff turban of bandages, like an Arab turban.
He raised his head awkwardly. There on his left was a familiar-looking, freckly, red-haired person.
“Are you all right, Harry? Nice of you to drop in,” said Ron, grinning.
“Ron?” Harry said. “Ugh, that hurts. What happened?”
“Cracked skull,” said Madam Pomfrey, bustling up and pushing him back against his pillows. “Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I’m keeping you in overnight. You shouldn’t overexert yourself for a few hours. You’re much luckier than the poor fellow who was brought in with you. He lost a lot of blood — he’ll probably be stuck here for a week. Are you sure you two were just playing a Quidditch match?!”
“Blood loss? Cracked skull?” Harry repeated, then he remembered what happened. That damn ball had hit his head. That guy had done it on purpose. “I don’t want to stay here overnight,” he said angrily, sitting up and throwing back his covers. “I want to find McLaggen and kill him.”
“The guy you want to kill is the poor fellow I just mentioned. He’s lying right next to you. I suggest you don’t touch him — if he dies, you’ll definitely be unlucky too,” said Madam Pomfrey, pushing him firmly back onto the bed. “And, you must stay here tonight. I’m afraid your injuries would come under the heading of ‘overexertion’. Not just tonight, you will stay here until I discharge you, Potter, or I shall call the headmaster.”
She bustled back into her office, and Harry sank back into his pillows, fuming.
He turned his head and looked to the side. The bed was blocked by a white curtain and he couldn’t see what was inside.
“I heard it was Elaine who did it. He lost a lot of blood. She’s really scary, isn’t she?” Ron explained with lingering fear, and then hurriedly added, “But I think he deserved it.”
“What happened?” Harry asked. “What about the game? Do you know how much we lost by?”
“Well, yeah I do,” said Ron apologetically. “Final score was three hundred and twenty to sixty.”
“Brilliant,” said Harry savagely. “Really brilliant! All because of that idiot McLaggen —”
“I’ve said before he’s like a troll and can’t be trusted at all,” said Ron. “We can wait until he recovers and then give him a good beating. That’s what Ginny and the others said when they came over just now. They were also very unhappy. Only Elaine actually took action, and the others didn’t have time to beat him. Well, speaking of teaching a lesson, we can’t do what Elaine did and make him bleed all over, but, personally, I think there’s a lot to be said for hexing him with that toenail thing of the Prince’s.”
There was a note of badly suppressed glee in Ron’s voice; Harry could tell he was nothing short of thrilled that McLaggen had messed up so badly. Harry lay there, staring up at the patch of light on the ceiling, his recently mended skull not hurting, precisely, but feeling slightly tender underneath all the bandaging.
“I could hear the match commentary from here,” said Ron, his voice now shaking with laughter. “I hope Luna always commentates from now on. … Loser’s Lurgy … hahaha!”
But Harry was still too angry to see much humor in the situation. He was also a little worried about Elaine. He didn’t know what kind of punishment she would receive. What was the punishment for causing severe blood loss to a student?
This had never happened in Hogwarts before, but no matter what the punishment was, he felt it wasn’t fair to Elaine. It was all the fault of that idiot McLaggen.
After a while, Ron’s snorts subsided.
“Ginny came in to visit while you were unconscious,” he said, after a long pause, and Harry’s imagination zoomed into overdrive, moving away from McLaggen, and rapidly constructing a scene in which Ginny, weeping over his lifeless form, confessed her feelings of deep attraction to him while Ron gave them his blessing. …
“When did she leave?” he asked, trying to sound casual. “Who else came?”
“Only Evan and Elaine didn’t come. They’re apparently waiting to hear what punishment Professor McGonagall will give Elaine,” said Ron. “Ginny stayed the longest. I’m pretty sure she cried. Once Hermione, Neville, Colin, Dean, and the rest of the team showed up, Madam Pomfrey kicked them all out. You know how she is — doesn’t like too many visitors.”
Harry nodded and drifted back into his daydreams. Suddenly, being injured didn’t feel so bad after all.
