Book: Courage
Chapter 20
Word Count: 1630
As Layla sat in the Quidditch stands, Ron and Hermione walked up to her, sitting on either side of her.
"Hullo, Layla," greeted Ron.
"We haven't seen you around much lately," added Hermione. "Layla... we think that Malfoy might be the heir of Slytherin. I wouldn't be surprised if he was. We're going to find out the truth by using Polyjuice Potion to turn ourselves into members of Draco's gang and get him to spill his secrets. Ron's going to be Crabbe, Harry's going to be Goyle, I'm going to be Millicent Bulstrode... do you want to join?"
"Sure," shrugged Layla. "I know that Malfoy is kinda close to Pansy Parkinson. I can be her."
Hermione nodded and smiled.
As the two Quidditch teams made their way onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.
"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..."
With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky.
Almost immediately, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward Harry; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.
George gave the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.
"Layla?" a voice called in the row behind her. Layla turned to see none other than Cedric Diggory sat there, a smile on his face. "Long time, no see."
"Yeah, hey, Cedric," Layla spoke with a smile, speaking loudly so Cedric could hear her over the loud cheers of Ron and Hermione on either side of her, their eyes glued to the Quidditch match.
"We haven't spoken much since we, you know, got into trouble that one day," Cedric chuckled. "Sorry about that again. I was hoping to be in detention with you but I had detention with McGonagall and a few other third years."
"No worries," replied Layla. "I promise I'm not bad about that. The detention was actually not bad. We saw centaurs, it was awesome. I would have spoken to you more this year but... it's been a very busy year."
"Fair enough," said Cedric with a chuckle. "So, you chose not to tryout for Quidditch after all?"
"I still think I need more practice," Layla pointed out. "I'm thinking of trying out next year when I have more experience."
"Good plan. I can help you practice more if you want," offered Cedric. "In the daytime, of course. Don't want to be getting into trouble again."
"Sounds good," Layla grinned. "Thank you. We'll arrange time to do that soon."
"Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero—" Leo Jordan spoke loudly from the commentary stand.
George then zoomed up to Wood and called a time-out.
"The Bludger's been tampered with!" cried Hermione suddenly, causing Layla to look back at the game in shock.
"What?!"
"Look!" Hermione pointed at the game, and she was right. One of the Bludgers seemed to follow Harry wherever he went.
With a splattering thud, Harry hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand. And he fainted.
He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth.
"Oh, no, not you," Harry moaned.
"I tried to tell him not to, Harry," said Layla, knelt beside him and helping Harry sit up.
"Doesn't know what they're saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."
"No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks."
"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times -"
"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth.
"He should really, Professor," said Layla.
"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.
"No — don't—" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.
A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Harry's shoulder and spread all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was being deflated. He didn't dare look at what was happening. He had shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fears were realized as the people above him gasped and Colin Creevey began clicking away madly with his camera. His arm didn't hurt anymore — nor did it feel remotely like an arm.
"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing — ah, Mr Weasley, Miss Lupin, Miss Granger, would you escort him? — and Madam Pomfrey will be able to — er — tidy you up a bit."
Lockhart hadn't mended Harry's bones. He had removed them.
Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.
Layla and Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's hospital bed while Ron helped him into his pajamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve.
"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called through the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked."
"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"
"No," said Harry, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else either."
Hermione, Layla, and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro.
"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."
"We won, though," Layla pointed out, a grin breaking across her face. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face... he looked ready to kill."
"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," said Hermione darkly.
"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff."
"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking," said Ron.
The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Harry.
"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy."
They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!"
With a sigh, Layla left with the others.
She headed up to the Gryffindor tower with everyone and then excused herself to go up to her dorm while the others just lingered in the common room. Layla immediately sat on her bed and grabbed her diary, quill, and ink, writing to Tom.
And the Bludger wouldn't stop following Harry and it broke his arm and Professor Lockhart tried to fix it but ended up removing all of his bones! And the whole time, this first year, Colin Creevey, was taking photos of everything.
What an exciting match. Too bad I didn't get to see it. So this Colin Creevey kid... does he often take a lot of photos? Nosing into other people's business? Just like your friend Hermione Granger?
I don't mind if Hermione is a bit nosy since I've gotten used to it by now but yes, Colin can be a tad bit nosy.
Is that so? Well, I'll forgive your friend then, for now, but Colin should learn not to butt his nose in where it doesn't belong, am I right? I think we might need to remedy this.
Just as Layla read the last of Tom's words, a strange sensation rushed through her and she blacked out.
Layla woke up, yet again in the girl's bathroom on the second floor. Slowly, she got to her feet, noticing how dark it was.
She started to run back to Gryffindor tower, knowing that she was out of bed after hours and definitely didn't want to run into Mr Filch. She raced through the corridors; her footsteps rang through the deserted corridors.
She stopped short when voices sounded up ahead.
"He's been petrified," said a voice that sounded a lot like Professor McGonagall.
"We should get him up to the Hospital Wing," said the voice of Professor Dumbledore.
There was some shuffling. Layla peaked around the corner and saw the two professors lifting up the boy who had been petrified. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.
It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.
Layla gasped loudly. Realizing how loud she was, she clamped a hand over her mouth and spun around, sprinting off to the Gryffindor tower.