"He's broken both his legs. I've given the boy a dose of Skele-Gro. He'll be back in classes tomorrow morning. Are you here to visit your friend?"
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione replied.
"Very well, off you go," Pomfrey said. "But keep your voices down. I have to return to the Quidditch match, but don't imagine I won't find out if you start misbehaving. My patient needs his rest."
"We'll be quiet," Hermione answered for both of them.
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Richard gave her a polite bow.
The healer hurried toward the staircase, while the boy and girl continued on to their destination.
The Hospital Wing had not changed in the slightest since Grosvenor's last stay there. The same white walls, the same beds screened off by curtains, and the same immaculate sterility. In theory, Harry should have been the only patient at the moment, yet a quiet, indistinct voice could be heard somewhere inside the ward.
The moment Richie's and Hermione's footsteps echoed across the marble floor, the voice fell silent, followed immediately by a sharp crack.
Richard became alert at once. He recognized that sound—it was exactly how house-elves Apparated. He shifted his cane into his left hand and gripped it more tightly. With his right, he drew his wand in one swift motion.
Grosvenor's actions did not go unnoticed by Granger. She asked no unnecessary questions. Ever since the troll incident, she had decided it was wiser to trust Richard—or, as in this case, watch what he did and follow suit before asking questions later. In the next instant, the warm handle of her wand rested in her right hand.
Richie quickly reached Potter's bed and flung the privacy screen aside with a sharp motion. Harry was lying on the bed, tense as a coiled spring. Dressed in a white hospital pyjamas, both his legs were encased in thick plaster casts. The moment he saw who was standing before him, he let out a tremendous sigh of relief, as though all the air had suddenly escaped his lungs.
"It's you!" he said happily. "You two have no idea how glad I am to see you!"
Richie's eyes swept the room warily. One look at Harry was enough to tell him something was wrong. Clamping his cane between his knees, he pulled a pair of thermal-imaging glasses from his pocket and settled them onto the bridge of his nose.
"Dobby, that mad house-elf, was just here," Harry continued nervously, watching his friend's actions.
Richie slowly turned in a full circle, inspecting every inch of the spacious ward.
"He's teleported away," he concluded. "Harry, what did Dobby want this time?"
Realizing the house-elf was no longer there, Harry relaxed and replied,
"That lunatic admitted he was trying to kill me."
"With the Bludger?" Hermione guessed.
"Yeah." Potter nodded, glancing to the bedside table on his right, where his wand lay. "Typical. My wand was too far away—I couldn't have reached it in time. Bloody maniac! The Minister was right. Creatures like him ought to be Avada Kedavra'd on the spot... Shame I don't know the curse."
"We'll think of something," Richard replied seriously.
"Hang on." Granger raised both hands. "I don't understand. Who's Dobby? Was he the one who bewitched the Bludger to kill you, Harry?"
"Dobby!" Potter spat the name as though it were a curse. "He's a mad house-elf. Over the summer he stole my post and got me into trouble with the Ministry of Magic. He's been determined to drive me out of Hogwarts by any means possible. Then the bastard bewitched the barrier at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. I thought that was the end of it. But no! The monster's come after me here at school as well! Now he's decided to kill me since his last plan failed. Bloody psychopath!"
Hermione gasped and looked at Richard in bewilderment.
"But why would he do that?" she asked.
"Either he's insane, or his master ordered him to," Richard replied with a shrug. "Personally, I'm inclined to think he's a deranged stalker with a screw loose. House-elves like that do crop up from time to time. There's your answer, Hermione, as to why giving elves freedom is a bad idea and why they have to be kept under strict control. A wizard with an incredible talent for non-verbal, wandless magic—stealthy, deadly, dangerous. He waited until his victim was defenceless, then decided to finish what he'd started—to kill him."
Hermione turned as pale as chalk.
"If we hadn't come..." She looked at Harry in horror and paled even further. "He would've killed Harry... Oh, Richie, I'm sorry. You were right. We really shouldn't expect anything good from aliens..."
"I'm glad you understand, Hermione," Richard replied. "Don't put your wand away until Madam Pomfrey returns. That creature might come back. And put on your goggles."
"Right, the goggles!" Granger exclaimed, hurriedly reaching into her bottomless handbag for her thermal viewer. A moment later, Hermione was surveying the ward in infrared. "Looks like there's no one here except the three of us. Richie, are you sure this really works on elves?"
"MI6 special forces found them that way," Richard replied with complete composure. "Unless, of course, this house-elf knows some unusual elven magic that conceals him in the infrared spectrum."
"If it worked for the intelligence services, then it should be fine," Granger said.
"Richie," Harry said, getting his attention, "you mentioned weapons. What exactly could we come up with?"
"What are your requirements, Harry?"
Potter thought for a moment.
"Well... I'd like it to always be with me and not get in the way. So I don't end up in a situation where some mad house-elf catches me helpless, and I can't even reach my wand. And... I'd like it to be powerful."
"How powerful?"
Harry struggled to put his wishes into words because he had no real idea what he wanted. The only thing that came to mind was something he'd seen in comics.
"Something like a railgun..."
"A railgun?" Grosvenor echoed, raising an eyebrow in astonishment.
"A railgun?!" Hermione stared at Potter, dumbfounded.
"Yeah, a railgun," Harry confirmed.
"A RAILGUN?!" Hermione cried.
"I mean... it doesn't have to be that impressive," Potter said sheepishly. "Even just some kind of pistol."
(End of Chapter)
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