It was the afternoon of the match day, and Harry was lying in bed in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey gave him a foul-tasting brew called Skele-Gro and said he'd have to stay the night. His Gryffindor friends had sat with him for a time, including Ginny, who seemed as thrown by his fate as Neville, both white as the hospital sheets. Harry supposed his arm did look rather gruesome. He himself preferred not to look.

After them, the Quidditch team arrived, coming to tell him there'd a full enquiry into the bludger business, and, in Oliver's case, that he didn't blame him at all. That left Harry a little bemused, given that it never even occurred to him that he would.

Now Draco was there, having left the celebration in Slytherin common room for a moment. "I swear we had nothing to do with it," he said. "Half the Slytherins think we did, but honestly..."

Harry waved his good hand, trying to ignore the sharp pain in the other. "I never thought you did. You have a decent team and the best brooms, no reason to resort to tricks like that."

"I almost dropped the Snitch when I heard the sound your arm made," Draco confessed. "It must have hurt like hell."

"Yeah, and this isn't precisely pleasant either. I wish we'd won, then at least I'd have something to console myself with."

Draco raised his eyebrow at him. "Catching the Snitch before me when you're being chased by a crazy Bludger? You aren't that good."

In that moment, Alduin entered the Wing and Draco quickly made himself scarce. Harry's cousin sat down in the emptied chair by his bed, looking very serious.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he said. "I thought we've removed the danger from school and so I didn't need to come, and I didn't want to make it seem like I was pampering you. I mean, last year you were the only first year on the team, and it was your first match, so it was different, but now...I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends. I'm sorry."

Haryr shook his head, and hissed in pain as he did so. "It doesn't matter," he said. "You're right, you had no reason to, and anyway if it hadn't been for Lockhart it wouldn't have been anything too serious."

Alduin frowned. "I don't agree with you there, but anyway, I spoke to Mrs. Leartes Yaxley and she's willing to take over classes again for a time, so I'll go shout at Dumbledore now until I get Lockhart sacked."

Harry was thrilled to hear that, if a little doubtful. "You think you can do that?"

"Certainly. You see, if he doesn't, I'll go to the Board of Governors, and there are so many interesting things I could tell them about last year...no, he'll do what I want. I've been trying to think of a way to get that man out of this school for a while now – Lockhart, I meant, not Dumbledore; he wasn't teaching you anything, and he was harassing you – so at least there's an upside to this."

Harry agreed. "I'd have my bones vanished and regrown thrice over if it meant I'd never have to deal with Lockhart again."

He took a sleep potion Madam Pomfrey had left him after Alduin departed, and slept for several hours. He woke in the middle of the night, to the feeling of someone sponging his forehead.

"Get off!" he cried immediately, alarmed, and then peered at the small figure he had thrown off. "Sibby? Is that you?"

"No, it's Dobby, Harry Potter," came the answer.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, now completely confused. "Shouldn't you be at Shacklebolt Hall?"

"Dobby is a bad house-elf," Dobby admitted placidly. "But Harry Potter came back to school. Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when the train stopped?"

Harry stared. "How do you know about that?" He asked suspiciously, and when the elf didn't answer, his suspicion changed into certainty. "It was you!" he said slowly. "You sabotaged the train!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby got onto the train and Dobby studied it and then stopped it and broke it, and it was hard work, but Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe! Dobby was so sad when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! He wanted to punish himself for it, too, but his master says that is forbidden in Dobby's new family..."

Harry closed his eyes tiredly. "You caused so much trouble to everyone," he said. "How could you think they wouldn't find another way for the students to get to school?"

"It was the only way I could think of, Sir, to stop you from going to school, I had to try it...Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make —"

"Your Bludger?" said Harry, now getting really angry. "What d'you mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me?"

"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby weakly. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" said Harry angrily. "We lost the match because of you, and I'm spending the night here in pain instead of celebrating with friends, only because you have to interfere in things!"

"But I had to save you, Harry Potter! I had to!"

"No, you didn't have to," Harry said sharply. "You warned me, and I told my cousin, and he took care of the matter. The diary is gone from school and there is no danger to me here left – except from you!"

Dobby had gone completely white, which looked even more alarming on the house-elf than on Ginny and Neville earlier. "But why did no one tell Dobby?" He asked desperately. "Dobby was so worried, Dobby thought Harry Potter was still in danger..."

"Perhaps because no one though you'd come here trying to maim me in order to save me?" Harry replied, still angry. "Don't you dare blaming my cousin for not telling you. If you could come to Hogwarts to do this, you could have just as well gone to him and asked him."

"Dobby was afraid, Harry Potter," the elf wailed. "What if your cousin reported Dobby to his masters?"

Harry frowned at him. "Why are you so afraid of the Shacklebolts? Have they ever done something to you?"

"No, but they are Dobby's masters. They could do anything to him, anything at all..."

Harry sighed. "Dobby," he said then. "Go home. You helped me with that warning and I'm very grateful for it. Who knows what would have happened otherwise? If you ever have some important news like that again, please tell me. But until then...go to the Shacklebolts. You don't have to be afraid of them, they're good people, and you accepted the job there, didn't you? They're your family now. Take care of them."

Sobbing, Dobby nodded and disappeared.

Harry sighed and reached for another dose of the sleeping potion. He'd have to mirror-call Alduin tomorrow.

-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-

On Wednesday, the Traverses and the young Shafiqs were finally both free for a private meeting. They had dinner together, and the guests were free to admire Wynn at leisure and to compare his teething trouble to the ones Gamila and Abdulaziz had.

"Gamila was a calm child in general," Abdullah was saying, "but I still remember Zizi's teething as some of the worst periods of my life."

Gamila have her brother a triumphant look, as if to say 'I am better than you.'

"Perhaps she will be worse as a teenager?" Alexandra suggested.

"Merlin forbid!" Isobel said, horrified. "I think I'd take teething over that. Several times over."

"You've been talking to the Shacklebolts," Alduin said shrewdly.

"I might have, yes. To Susan, specifically. I think the worries she has about Maurice will put her into an early grave."

"Is he very bad?" Alduin asked, a little worried. "I don't really know him, and I asked him to give Harry some duelling lessons..."

Isobel shrugged. "Well, he won't cause Harry any harm, but responsible, he is not."

"He is a Gryffindor, after all," Alexandra commented archly, and the rest of the company laughed.

Then, Alexandra took the children upstairs to the nursery to let them play with the little boy some more – Gamila, in particular, was thrilled by the chance – and the remaining three adults were left to a more serious conversation.

"You looked pretty irritable during dinner at the Burkes on Sunday," Abdullah said when they were left alone. "What was going on?"

"Oh, nothing of importance," Alduin said sarcastically, "only a crazy half-elf attempted to maim my ward, and then a teacher deboned his arm. You know, nothing out of the ordinary."

"The boy really can't catch a break, can he?" Isobel said.

"You don't know the half of it," Alduin muttered. "At least I got Lockhart kicked out, and Mrs. Leartes started again this week."

"How did that go with Dumbledore?" Abdullah asked curiously.

Alduin only scoffed. It had been a travesty, as the these things tended to be with the headmaster. Dumbledore had argued that there was no one else to teach the class, then, when Alduin brought up Mrs. Leartes, that students needed stability – as if a new teacher each year had anything stable about them at all – and finally that Alduin was being over-sensitive. At that point, Alduin had started shouting. The idea that he was oversensitive for thinking a teacher should be sacked for causing serious bodily harm to a student as a consequence of an unqualified medical intervention that was not in any way necessary as just too much for him to take at that point, together with his worry and guilt over Harry's injury.

Then, Dumbledore had told him that if Harry was to fight in the upcoming war, he'd need to get used to pain and injuries, and Alduin's wand hand had actually twitched.

But the shock of that statement had been enough to calm him down, paradoxically, snapping his mind into that cool of tense negotiations, and he had threatened Dumbledore with what he'd told Harry he would, plus, once more, with withdrawing Harry from school. In the end it worked, though he feared his relationship with Dumbledore was now back to the freezing point.

Oh well.

He didn't feel like sharing all of that with Abdullah and Isobel at the moment, so instead he said: "He was difficult, but in the end he agreed to do it. But I'm still pissed about the fact that none of the teachers thought to end the match and start an inquiry after what happened at the pitch. The elf tampered with a Bludger, you see, and it was going exclusively after Harry. But clearly it's too much to ask of the people responsible for our children there to notice such things. But I guess I can't get them all kicked out… I'm not sure what to do about the house-elf, either. He warned us about a danger in the summer and Lucius let him go because of that. He's employed by the Shacklebolts now, but...On one hand he's clearly traumatized by what Lucius did to him and very unstable. On the other hand, he did seriously endanger Harry. His intentions don't matter that much."

"Have you told the Shacklebolts?" Abdullah asked.

"Not yet. I think they'd give him clothes – and for a good reason, too, imagine he decided to help their own children in such a way one day – but he did help us a lot with that warning, and it feels like a bad repayment."

"Just try talking to Nathan," Isobel said. "He's reasonable, isn't he?"

"Yes, but this could concern the safety of his children, and...well. There's only so far we're willing to be reasonable in this respect, isn't there?"

The Shafiqs nodded.

"Anyway," Alduin continued, "this isn't why I asked you here. I need help with an arithmancy issue..."

At his explanation, Isobel and Abdullah were both properly horrified. "I didn't know you even could make more than one horcrux..." Abdullah muttered.

"I did," Isobel said grimly, and Alduin deemed it better not to ask. Her brother's and father's interest in the Dark Arty had been much less theoretical than that of the Burke men.

"So," he said instead, "I really need to know how many we are likely to deal with. I assume there will be a number that is arithmantically more advantageous than others..."

"Very likely, yes," Isobel said, and after a moment, added: "In fact, terrible as it is, it's also sort of obvious to anyone who knows anything about Airthmancy. We'll have to run the equations to give you the best number, but I can tell you with near certainty right off the bat that making one Horcrux would have been a terrible choice. Splitting your soul in two parts is, arithmantically speaking, the worst possible choice."

"And of course," Alduin muttered, "Riddle just had to be good in Arithmancy..."

-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-

The Gryffindor second-years met Pansy and Milicent in the corridor as they were walking to Potions.

"Oh, Potter," Pansy said, sneering. "The one who can't even catch a Snitch."

Milicent rolled her eyes, and Harry almost seconded her. Apparently, the period when Pansy tried to make peace was over.

"Oh, listen to yourself, Parkinson," Ron retorted. "Like Malfoy would have haver caught if it wasn't for the cursed Bludger."

This time, Harry did roll his eyes. "Could you both please stop it?" He asked. "I'm so not interested in this."

He quickened his pace, and soon reached the Slytherins waiting in the hall. Harry nodded to Draco, Theo and Daphne.

"Draco," Pansy said, "Weasley here had opinions about your Quidditch skills."

Before Draco could respond, Daphne gave a sigh. "Could you just stop trying to piss everyone off, Pansy?" She asked conversationally, and Tracey next to her sniggered.

"You speak my thoughts, Daphne," Harry muttered.

"But it is irritating you could only fly against each other in a rigged match," Milicent said.

"I don't think so," Daphne opposed. "Imagine the drama we'd have to deal with is Harry did catch the Snitch. Draco is such a sore loser."

"Hey," Draco said, "mind not talking about me like I'm not here?"

"But where'd be the fun in that?"

"With friends like these, who needs enemies?" Draco asked rhetorically, and Theo chuckled.

"We've got your back," he said sarcastically, only to have Greg and Vince mutter agreement without any hints of irony whatsover.

Draco sighed.

Milicent stepped closer to Harry, and said quietly: "Pansy is pissed that we won the match, but the school seems to care more about he rigged bludger and your injury. It was even in the papers, did you see? Cited as the reason Lockhart was sacked, too."

"I bet he loved that," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, he must have. Anyway, it makes Pansy pissed."

"You know what? I really don't care. She still has no business speaking to me the way she does, especially given that she hasn't even apologized."

Milicent grunted something non-committal. Harry didn't hold it against her – Pansy was her friend, after all, even though he couldn't understand why.

AN: Sorry to everyone who wanted to see Alduin tear into Lockhart, but Alduin is just used to going straight to the top.