Richie was wrong. No one waited for Dumbledore to return from the ICW meeting. At first, the teachers were running around like crazy in the area of the forbidden corridor.
Minerva McGonagall looked deeply agitated. Snape was furious. Flitwick and Sprout were worried. But, surprisingly, no one even thought to call the wizarding authorities.
As Richard learned from the Weasley twins when he gave them the remaining money for their help, they had sprayed a narcotic potion in Quirrell's office, designed to knock the professor unconscious for five hours. And in Snape's office, they had sealed the door with their signature potion and enchanted it with a strengthening charm that would resist the Countering Charm. They estimated that Snape would need at least five hours to brew a suitable potion to deactivate the adhesive. As with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, they underestimated the Potions master-he completed the task in an hour and a half. Immediately afterward, he learned from McGonagall about Quirrell's infiltration of the obstacle course and his death. And then Malfoy complained to the Head of Slytherin about the bullying of his owl. Snape looked furious, his eyes blazing.
After dinner, McGonagall and Snape finally caught Harry, Richie, and Ron. Their arguments were so intense that the windows in the Deputy Headmistress's office shook. But since the professors were preoccupied with Quirrell's death, the ordeal didn't last long. The Head of Gryffindor, for playing a cruel prank on Malfoy-which she believed to be a practical joke-deducted a hundred points from each of the three boys and assigned them detention with Filch for the entire two weeks leading up to the holidays.
After this, McGonagall kicked the boys out of her office.
The boys walked silently down the hallway, each lost in their own thoughts. Ron broke the silence:
- We got off easy.
"Two weeks' detention..." Harry drawled, glancing sideways at Weasley. "It's all the owl's fault!"
"Harry, are you going to bring this up forever?" Ron asked.
"Ron's right," Richard said. "We really did get off easy. It would have been worse if there had been a whole year left in the holidays, or if the truth had come out..."
Harry ruffled his hair, which was already uncombed, with his right hand. He spoke at length:
- I wonder how Malfoy ended up there?
"He must have been watching me," Richard said. "Before you came up, I thought I saw a shadow at the end of the corridor. But at the time, I chalked it up to the torchlight casting shadows."
"You should have checked," Ron said reproachfully.
"Guys, I'm not so paranoid as to react to every shadow as a threat," Richard replied calmly. "Excuse me, I need to go to the hospital wing."
"Did something happen?" Harry looked at his friend with concern.
"I got some kind of burn during all that dancing," Richard said nonchalantly. "See you tomorrow at detention."
Madam Pomfrey responded immediately to Rich's complaint. She asked no questions, but immediately began treating the burn with potions and ointments. The longer she treated the wound, the more furrowed her brow. The inflammation was not subsiding. She pulled out her wand and began casting various spells on Richie's hand.
"A dark magic curse," the school healer muttered under her breath. "Darling, who did this to you?"
"I don't know, ma'am," Richard lied without batting an eyelid. "I wasn't paying attention to my hand and didn't feel anything until I checked the time on my watch and noticed the burn. Only then did I feel the burning and the pain."
"Boy, you will lie down immediately and drink all the potions that I prescribe for you," the healer stated in a categorical tone.
"Okay, Madam Pomfrey," Richard agreed immediately. "How long will it take?"
"I'll be watching over you until the holidays," the healer said.
- Thank you, ma'am.
Richard was happy. This way he could improve his health and officially avoid detention. And he'd find something to occupy himself with. There were so many books he still hadn't read. He just needed to ask Hermione to bring him something from the library.
As soon as the healer disappeared into her room, Richie dialed Ron's number on the mikephone.
"Yes?" Weasley responded.
- Ron, I've come up with a great way to get out of detention.
"Which one?" Ron asked eagerly.
- You need to go to the hospital wing.
"Are you nuts?!" Weasley exclaimed. "Richie, I'd rather spend an hour or two polishing the trophies in the Awards Hall than spend two weeks lying in a hospital bed!"
- Well, look, it's my job to offer. I'm already in bed, recovering.
"Richie, thanks, but I can manage without it somehow," Ron replied. "Harry completely agrees with me. Get well soon," he concluded the conversation ironically.
Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Richard was worried at first, but it felt as if nothing had happened. The headmaster and teachers told the students absolutely nothing about Professor Quirrell's death. There was no mention of a forbidden corridor. There were no Aurors or representatives from the Ministry of Magic. It was unclear how they had disposed of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's body. It seemed as if Dumbledore had decided to conceal the professor's death from everyone.
It's worth noting that the Headmaster looked very worried after the ICW meeting. He walked around pensively the entire time and periodically tugged at his beard when he appeared in the Great Hall.
The Headmaster had much to ponder, and Richard had reason to rejoice. Thanks to the purchased votes of the ICW chairmen, an international law loosening the Statute of Secrecy was pushed through at the meeting. Now Richie could legally and easily sell magical items disguised as technology to ordinary people. Of course, other wizards could do the same, but that's a minor detail.
On the evening of the last day before the students were sent home, Richard was released from the hospital wing. Early the next morning, the red train carried the young wizards to London. During the journey, the young aristocrat managed to chat with everyone he knew. Richie recruited the right seniors to work in Rich's Workshop. Harry and Ron weren't at all offended by Richie for what they considered his cunning. Despite having to polish trophies in the Awards Hall for two weeks, they sympathized with their friend, who had to spend the entire time in a hospital bed.