第 20 页

"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was

magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once

more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.

It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face,

splattering onto his glasses. He didn't have a clue what was going on

in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was

commentating, say, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero ='

*168*

The Slytherins' superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and

meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry

out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him on

either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms

and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.

"Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger -" Fred grunted,

swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on

Harry.

"We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop

the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.

Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang

out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to

avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled

together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being

flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped

Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from

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murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it

it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game.

The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since

our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then . . . . "

said Wood, anxiously.

Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry

could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in his direction.

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two

flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the

Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and

let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."

Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys.

(I Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinner angrily. "You can't let Harry

deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry -))

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And

we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come

on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. " `Get the Snitch

or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him -"

Madam Hooch had joined them.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry -leave him alone

and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle,

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Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the

Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and

swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless

kept his eyes wide open, rain was speckling his glasses and ran up his

nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the

Bludger. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must

look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change

direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster

ride around the

*170*

edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the

Gryffindor goal posts, where Adrian Pucey was trying to get past

Wood

A whistling in Harry's ear told him the Bludger had just missed him

again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" yelled Malfoy as Harry was forced to

do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the

Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at

Malfoy in hatred, he saw it - the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches

above Malfoy's left ear - and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't

seen it.

For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed

toward Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the Snitch.

WHAM.

He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last,

smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by

the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his rain-drenched

broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at

his side - the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time

W-ming at his face - Harry swerved out of the way, one idea firmly

lodged in his numb brain: get to Malfoy.

Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering

face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear: Malfoy thought

Harry was attacking him.

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"What the -" he gasped, careening out of Harry's way.

Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch;

he felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only

*171*

gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd

below as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass

out.

With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His

arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard,

as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He

focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.

"Aha," he said vaguely. "We've won."

And he fainted.

He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with

someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth.

"Oh, no, not you," he moaned.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious

crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry.

I'm about to fix your arm."

"No!"said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks ......

He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. He heard a familiar

clicking noise nearby.

"I don't want a photo of this, Colin," he said loudly.

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've

used countless times -"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through

clenched teeth.

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"He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't

help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture,

Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, Id say -"

Through the thicket of legs around him, Harry spotted Fred and

*112*

George Weasley, wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still

putting up a terrific fight.

"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green

sleeves.

"No - don't -" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand

and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Harry's shoulder and

spread all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was

being deflated. He didn't dare look at what was happening. He had

shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fears

were realized as the people above him gasped and Colin Creevey

began clicking away madly. His arm didn't hurt anymore - nor did it

feel remotely like an arm.

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the

point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in

mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing - ah, Mr. Weasley,

Miss Granger, would you escort him? - and Madam Pomfrey will be

able to - er - tidy you up a bit."

As Harry got to his feet, he felt strangely lopsided. Taking a deep

breath he looked down at his right side. What he saw nearly made him

pass out again.

Poking out of the end of his robes was what looked like a thick, flesh-

colored rubber glove. He tried to move his fingers. Nothing happened.

Lockhart hadn't mended Harry's bones. He had removed them.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.

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"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up

*173*

the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a

working arm. "I can mend bones in a second - but growing them back

"

"You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey

grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to stay the

night ......

Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while

Ron helped him into his pajamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery,

boneless arm into a sleeve.

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called

through the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff.

"If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt

anymore, does it, Harry?"

"No," said Harry, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else

either."

As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm flapped pointlessly.

Hermione and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam

Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming

beakerful and handing it to him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business.

So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned Harry's mouth and throat as it

went down, making him cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about

dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey re

*114*

147

treated, leaving Ron and Hermione to help Harry gulp down some

water.

"We won, though," said Ron, a grin breaking across his face.

"That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face ... he looked ready

to kill ......

"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," said Hermione

darkly.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when

we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Harry, sinking back onto

his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff .....

"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking," said

Ron.

The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy

and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see

Harry.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George. "I've just seen Mar

cus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on

top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy."

They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice;

they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on

what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came

storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three

bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"

And Harry was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the

stabbing pains in his limp arm.

Hours and hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch

blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: His arm now felt full of

large splinters. For a second, he thought that was what had woken

him. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was

sponging his forehead in the dark.

"Get off!" he said loudly, and then, "Dobby!"

The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry

through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long,

pointed nose.

"Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably.

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"Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you

heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he

missed the train?"

Harry heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge

away.

"What're you doing here?" he said. "And how did you know I missed

the train?"

Dobby's lip trembled and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicion.

"It was you!" he said slowly. "You stopped the barrier from letting us

through!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears

flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the

gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward" - he showed

Harry ten long, bandaged fingers - "but Dobby didn't care, sir, for he

thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Harry

Potter would get to school another way!"

He was rocking backward and forward, shaking his ugly head.

"Dobby was 'so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at

Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby

never had, sir . .....

*176*

Harry slumped back onto his pillows.

"You nearly got Ron and me expelled," he said fiercely. "You'd better

get lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you."

Dobby smiled weakly.

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day

at home."