"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, Arabella, just toddle up to the hospital wing— ah, Lyla, would you escort her?— and Madam Pomfrey will be able to— er— tidy you up a bit."
Glaring, Lyla bent down and hoisted her sister to her feet. The second Arabella stood however, she listed to the side.
"I feel… very lopsided," she commented dazedly.
"Just keep breathing," suggested Daphne, who had snuck to the girl's other side.
"Colin! Enough with the photos already!" Lyla snapped irritatedly.
As they slowly made their way, Arabella shot her arm a quick glance and almost passed out again. Lockhart hadn't mended Arabella's bones. He had completely removed them.
"Don't look at it," suggested Lyla worriedly.
"It'll only make you feel worse," agreed Daphne.
Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.
"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up 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?" asked Lyla desperately.
"Oh, I'll be able to," reassured the matron with a scowl. "Certainly, but it will be quite painful. You'll have to stay the night..."
Lyla carefully helped her sister into a set of grubby pajamas, while their friends waited outside worriedly.
"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione?" Lyla called through the curtain that surrounded the bed Arabella would be staying in. "If Arabella had wanted de-boning, she would have asked at a much earlier date."
"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"
"Nope," said Arabella, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else either."
As she swung herself onto the bed, her arm flapped pointlessly.
Draco 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," said the blonde boy with a grimace.
"Regrowing bones is a nasty business," agreed Madam Pomfrey.
The minute the potion hit her throat, it burned, making Arabella cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Arabella and her friends be. The others quickly joined.
"That was some catch you made," said Blaise with twinkling eyes. "Draco's face– he looked like he was about to pee himself–"
Draco in response, smacked his fellow Slytherin across the shoulders, cheeks flushing.
"I want to know how that Bludger was tampered with," said Hermione darkly.
"We can add that to the constantly expanding list of questions we have," said Theo with a heavy sigh.
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 Arabella. Oliver was notably missing.
"Unbelievable flying, Arabella," said George enthusiastically.
"Where's Wood?" asked Arabella curiously.
"Crying in the locker rooms, I suspect," said Angelina with a roll of her eyes.
"Don't worry about it though," assured George with a snigger, "he's always like this when we don't win against Slytherin."
"You get used to it after a while," mused Fred in agreement.
The team had gathered around Arabella's bed and were asking her a million questions about how she felt when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This girl needs rest! She's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"
And Arabella was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains in his limp arm.
"The nerve of him!" fumed Lyla in the Slytherin locker rooms. She was angrily folding her Quidditch robes into a messy heap.
"He's an utter idiot," agreed Derrick, who was in the motion of yanking his wet and muddy robes off.
"Half the time, I wonder if he even wrote those books he's so proud of," laughed Miles with a snort as he tugged on his black school robes. "If you asked me, I'd say he's a damned fraud."
All the other Slytherins were in a state of being half undressed, something Lyla hadn't quite minded the previous year. Now, however, it was as if her eyes were glued to Bole's muscular dark torso.
"What are you looking at?"
It was Draco, fully dressed in his school robes. He had one of his pale eyebrows raised in question.
"Nothing," she said too quickly.
Draco didn't look convinced.
"You do all realize you're practically naked in front of a twelve-year-old girl," he said loudly.
Lyla smacked the blonde on the shoulder with force.
"Like what you see, Potter?" grinned Bole, flexing his tan arms.
"Please," she said with a small snort, doing her best to dismiss her moment of embarrassment. "you're forgetting I've got an older brother, who I've sadly had the misfortune of seeing half and completely naked. This is nothing." T
hough she had to admit to herself, Dudley's body type nowhere near matched the muscle of a Quidditch player.
Bole and Miles only grinned, while Derrick hastily yanked his school robes over his head.
"God– I'm so sorry," muttered the shy Beater, flushing dark around the cheeks. "It's just, well– we've never had a girl on the team– at least, not in ages anyways– so we just– um– didn't think of that–"
"It's fine, really," she said, shooting Draco a stern glance. "Thanks for looking out for me, but I can handle myself, Dad."
The locker room bursts into laughter.
"Where is Flint by the way?" Draco asked once the laughter had subsided, "I thought he said he had something to tell us?"
"Probably making fun of Wood," chuckled Bole. "He does this every time we beat them, gloats while Wood practically drowns himself in the showers, poor lad."
"Whatever he's got to say, it can wait until tomorrow," yawned Adrien as he walked from the showers in nothing but a towel. "I'm ready to make Higgs a poor man– I bet he's vibrating with anger at the game's outcome, said he was really betting we'd catch the Snitch. He owes me at least thirty galleons!"
Lyla let her eyes linger just for just a moment longer on Bole's bare chest, before rolling her eyes and yawning widely.
"Hmm, sorry to hear that," she said, snapping her eyes back to a more appropriate space. "Well, I'll see you guys later, okay? I'm dead tired."
"See you at practice," Draco said gloomily as they left.
As they made their way down to the Slytherin common room, the blonde boy stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face his friend.
"YoudontlikeBoledoyou?" he asked in one hurried breath.
"Sorry?"
"Bole," said Draco, licking his lips nervously. "Lucian Bole, you don't… you don't fancy him, do you?"
The question was ridiculous, especially coming out of Draco's mouth. Lyla turned and continued to walk without saying anything. Draco rushed after her.
"I'm being serious!" he said as they began to descend into the dungeons, "just answer me."
"Draco, I know we're very good friends, but this subject is one I'd appropriately talk to a female friend about."
"So you do fancy him," said Draco, looking dismayed.
"Aurea Flamma," Lyla responded curtly, quickly pushing past the secret entrance that led to the Slytherin common room.
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