"The suspense is killing me faster than my wounds that are probably not mortal," breathed Gil before pathetically coughing into his delicate hand, delicately painted with black nail polish that was also probably as delicate.

Mel patted Gil's delicate hand delicately, "Don't speak, I See the straining of your vocal cords if you speak too much, Gil!"

Gil bravely tossed his silvery bangs out of his piercing orbs that shimmered like the moon's reflection on the ocean at night and whispered, "I'll be alright."

Mel stifled a sob. What a trooper! Suddenly, Harry interrupted.

"The suspense at hand does not concern Gil's vocal cords, however smooth and velvety they might be, but rather whether or not I can pick up the bass!" cried Harry as he brandished Darke Thorne, having just picked up the broken bass.

"But you just picked it up, Harry!" said Mel.

"How anti-climactic!" cried Gil, "Even as a half-ghost, I am wholly disappointed."

Gil magicked a stretcher out of thin air using wandless magic and Mel helped him climb upon it. She stroked his hand tenderly, the tears welling in her eyes threatened to spill over and roll down her flawless, acne-free cheeks. Her full lips quivered.

"Gil," she began, but her voice failed her. She began to weep big, pearly, perfect tears. Mel buried her face in her hands and bawled.

Gil sighed and reached a bruised hand up to Mel's cheek to brush away her tears.

With his voice no louder than a whisper, he said, "Don't worry, Mel, I'll still be able to play at Hogsmead in time for my concert. Besides, I can't die. Well, not all the way because I am a half-ghost."

"Hello! I am still here holding Darke Thorne!" cried Harry, whom everyone had forgotten.

Mel's perfectly glossed lips curled into a small smile. She nodded. What a trooper Gil was! Being able to defeat the Grim, survive an attack by a deranged house elf, and then to have the courage to uphold his commitment to the band.

"Nobody loves me!" shrieked Harry.

"I'll take you to Madame Pomfrey," said Mel.

"Thank-you, Mel," sighed Gil, his eyes fluttered once before shutting, "You are a true friend."

"I See a nice, comfy bed in your future!" Mel said lamely.

"As a half-ghost with a half-sense of humor, I find no humor in that at all. Seriously, why did you even say that?" whispered Gil, his voice feeble and barely audible.

Mel pushed Gil on his magical stretcher out of the room and they made their way up the staircases to the infirmary wing.

"I'm still here!" cried Harry from the lonely room. Darke Thorne vibrated in Harry's hands, almost sympathetically.

"How do I fix you, Darke Thorne?" said Harry, hurt that Gil and Mel had practically strolled out of the room, ignoring him as though he were a full-ghost!

Darke Thorne said nothing. It just lay, broken, in Harry's hands. Its paint was a little chipped, a few strings were snapped and the entire body of the bass looked a little warped. Darke Thorne looked sad, pathetic, and other synonyms. Harry shed a tear, his heart breaking within him at the very sight of it. He danced his fingers across the bass's glossy body.

"How can I restore you to your former glory? You have not played your last solo, my friend!" said Harry to Darke Thorne as he wiped his tears with the back of his hand.

Suddenly, it came to him. Why hadn't he thought of it before? This entire time, he had been mourning Darke Thorne.

Harry fished in his robes for his wand. Finding it, he whipped it out with a flourish. He tapped Darke Thorne.

"Reparo!" he cried, his voice stern and steady. Commanding. Harry was a very commanding person when he felt like it and he felt like it right now.

Darke Thorne was bathed in a ghostly green light as it snapped back together. The strings re-attached themselves tightly as if they were being pulled taut by invisible hands. Darke Thorne's glossy body returned to its smooth, graceful state.

"I don't know why I didn't think of that before," said Harry, scratching his head with the tip of his wand. He picked up Darke Thorne and threw the guitar strap over his shoulder.

"I should return you to Gil, Darke Thorne. Gil probably misses you terribly. His body aches, but not with pain, my friend. Oh no! He aches for you, Darke Thorne because you are his beloved bass. I shall return you at once!" cried Harry as he rushed off to the hospital wing.

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In the hospital wing, Gil reclined comfortably in a very comfortable bed that was Seen by Mel. Cards, candies, flowers, and other trinkets were piled knee-deep around Gil's bed. Another patient, a first year who had been tramped by Hagrid, lay buried beneath the presents. Mel, of course, was at Gil's bedside constantly; anxious to help with his every need and helping him drink his medicine through a trendy bendy straw.

"This straw does not have a loop, Mel," cried Gil, who threw the glass and medicine and straw against the wall. Mel frowned at Gil's diva antics, but nevertheless was stricken with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Gil, these bendy straws do not make good loops," said Mel mournfully as she swooped down upon the mess in order to clean it up.

Gil stroked Darke Thorne with his fingers, running his perfectly manicured fingers down its glossy body. Darke Thorne vibrated, its power fully restored thanks to Harry Potter.

"Now that Darke Thorne's power is fully restored thanks to Harry Potter, I will be able to play at Hogsmead," said Gil.

"Yes," gasped Mel, the excitement was almost too much for her, "The entire school is so excited. Everyone will be in attendance. I See a great show!"

"No doubt I shall rock and roll all night long, baby," said Gil, almost bored. He was growing tired of being in bed.

"Gil, will you be well enough to practice with your band?" ventured Mel.

"I am half-ghost," said Gil, "I do not need to practice."

"That makes sense!" said Mel, cheerfully cleaning the medicine stain from the floor.

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"That makes no sense," said Hermione, "How could Dobby nearly kill Gil?"

"It makes perfect sense, Hermione," said Luna, her voice dripping with mysteriousness, "Everyone and their mom knows that house elves are dangerous. Good thing I do not have any."

Harry shook his head, "Everything I have just recounted to you is true."

"no wai!" said Hermione.

They were sitting about the Hogwarts lawn, getting ready to leave for Hogsmead for Gil's big concert. It was finally time. Would he be healed in time? What about his precious vocal cords? Would they be damaged forever? How would the groupies react?

"I don't know," answered Ron.