Oliver was in a hospital bed in the hospital wing, his arm carefully cradled against his chest. Beside him stood the entire Gryffindor team, unified in their concern, with Henry, Isabella, Hermione, and Ron lending their support as well.
As the door swung open, the presence of Madam Pomfrey filled the room. Her eyes widened with recognition upon seeing Oliver. "Ah, a Montclair once more," she exclaimed with a disappointed look. "You and your family are becoming quite familiar faces within these ward walls."
Approaching Oliver's bedside, Madam Pomfrey cast a sharp gaze at his injured arm. Suddenly, her initial smile transformed into a gasp of horror."Ahh!" she cried out."Whatever happened to you, my boy?" Her expression turned from curiosity to genuine horror, emphasizing the severity of Oliver's condition.
Ron, still reeling from the sight of his friend's vanished bones, chimed in with a shaky voice. "His bones just up and vanished, Madame Pomfrey," he said.
"You should have come straight to me. Regrowing bones is a nasty business," Madam Pomfrey said sternly.
Hermione's concern was evident as she spoke up, her voice laced with worry. "But you can grow them back, can't you?"
Madam Pomfrey reassured Hermione, seeking to allay any fears. "Of course I can, dear," she replied. "But I won't sugarcoat it for you, Oliver. You're in for a rough night."
Hermione tightly clutched Oliver's other hand."You hear that, Oliver? You're going to get better," she said.
Oliver let out a grim chuckle, his tone laced with skepticism."Yeah, after a night of hell," he remarked, fully aware of the arduous journey that lay ahead.
Harry, burdened by guilt, spoke up with a heavy heart. "I'm sorry, Oliver. This is all my fault," he confessed.
Confusion etched Oliver's face as he directed his gaze towards Harry. "How?" he asked. "That Bludger wouldn't have stopped until you were dead if I hadn't stepped in."
"Drink this," Madam Pomfrey said, extending a cup to Oliver.
"What is it?" Oliver asked.
"Just drink it," she urged, a glimmer of reassurance in her eyes. "It'll help mend your bones."
Reluctantly, Oliver took a cautious sip, only to immediately spit it out, his face contorting with distaste. The liquid had a bitter, metallic tang that lingered on his tongue.
"Well, what did you expect, apple juice?" Madam Pomfrey said in annoyance.