novelraw Chapter 35: Visitors to the Hospital Wing
Chapter 35: Visitors to the Hospital Wing
Chapter Thirty-Five: Visitors to the Hospital Wing
When Draco Malfoy suddenly awoke again, Lucius and Narcissa had already quietly left.
The moonlight was dim, the night deep, and the ward dark and gloomy. The candlelight flickered, a mournful wind blew, and the air was desolate and deathly still.
The tranquil atmosphere cast a painful reflection, and Draco sighed in exasperation, wondering if he was hallucinating—he could hear the sound of bones growing in his ears.
When the pain struck, he felt an overwhelming sense of desolation.
He was the only one in the ward.
Or perhaps not.
In the darkness, he keenly heard a faint rustling sound.
"Who is it?" Draco asked warily, a sharp pain shooting through him as he spoke.
"It's me." That was Harry's voice.
"What are you doing here, Harry?" Draco asked, somewhat confused.
Harry didn't get the Golden Snitch... He must be furious right now.
Harry probably won't want to talk to me anymore, Draco thought to himself, feeling sorry for himself.
"I wanted to see if you were all right. That Bludger seemed to be aimed at me, and you were caught in it." There was a hint of guilt in Harry's voice.
Harry would think that? Draco was extremely surprised.
Harry didn't care who stole the Snitch, nor who lost the match. Instead, he was worried about him? Amidst the pain, a faint, strange feeling welled up in Draco's heart.
Harry seems to genuinely consider me a friend.
"That's not your fault. I should have been more alert and dodged it," Draco said. His jaw twitched as he spoke, his face growing paler. "In fact, this match wasn't fair. You spent almost half the time dodging that rogue Bludger instead of looking for the Snitch."
Deep down, Draco wanted a fairer playing environment.
He was no longer the naive boy from his past life who used dirty tricks to skirt the rules.
He... didn't want to win unfairly.
He wanted to see if he could beat Harry based solely on his own ability.
At that moment, Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak. His face suddenly appeared above Draco's line of sight. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then suddenly perked up his ears and froze.
"Listen!" he said frantically to Draco. "Who's talking?" He leaned close to the stone wall by Draco's bed, listening intently while glancing around.
"What?" Draco asked, puzzled.
He heard nothing but Harry's voice.
"That voice—don't speak yet—"
Harry's face vanished abruptly above Draco's line of sight, stirring a slight breeze. He seemed to be tracking an invisible monster, darting rapidly past the row of beds in the Hospital Wing, urgently calling out, "Listen!"
"There's nothing there!" Draco said, wondering if there was something wrong with his eardrums.
Harry didn't say anything more. He stopped walking. He stood frozen in the corner for a long time, finally lowering his head.
"It's gone now." Draco heard his frustrated voice coming from the other end of the ward.
"I didn't hear anything," Draco said with difficulty, his limbs screaming in pain.
"That's not surprising." Harry sat back down by Draco's bed and said dejectedly, "Hermione and Ron didn't hear it last time either—they thought I was going mad."
He asked Draco, tone dejected, "You think so too, right?"
The moonlight flickered, and the clouds dispersed. In the bright moonlight streaming through the window, Draco slowly raised his head a little, finally able to see Harry's face clearly—he saw Harry smiling bitterly.
"I don't think so," Draco said seriously, no longer caring about the pain.
Hurried footsteps sounded, coming from outside the Hospital Wing.
"Hide quickly!" Draco said urgently, pretending to be asleep and closing his eyes. Harry hurriedly hid under Draco's bed, the thick sheet hanging down beside the bed blocking his view and preventing any prying eyes from looking underneath.
"What's going on?" Draco couldn't turn his head, but he could tell it was Madam Pomfrey's voice, which had risen several octaves.
"Another attack." It was Professor Dumbledore's old and weary voice as he slowly said, "Minerva found him on the stairs."
There was a rustling sound, as if someone was moving something.
"Could he have photographed the attacker?" Professor Dumbledore asked, a hint of anticipation in his voice.
A pungent smell of burning plastic gradually wafted from the neighboring bed. Draco couldn't help but wrinkle his nose slightly in the darkness.
"By Merlin! It's all melted!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.
Several professors exclaimed in shock. After exchanging a few anxious words, they hurriedly left.
Madam Pomfrey went to Draco's bedside and checked on him. Draco immediately feigned sleep. Not finding anything amiss, she poured some more Dreamless Sleep Potion into his mouth, hurriedly left, and closed the Hospital Wing door.
When all was quiet, Harry crawled out from under the bed again. He didn't say anything to Draco immediately, but instead made his footsteps echo at the neighboring bedside.
"It's Colin Creevey—he's Petrified." After a moment of silence, Harry returned to Draco's bedside and said gravely, "I saw him before I came, and he asked me where I was going. He must have been following me. Merlin, it's all my fault! I thought... I'd shaken off his pursuit."
"What does this have to do with you?" Draco hissed, barely suppressing the excruciating pain of his bones growing. "It's not like you Petrified him."
Draco's blunt words gave Harry a strange, inappropriate sense of comfort.
Deep down, he had a similar thought. He truly had nothing to do with this!
Like everyone else, he was shocked and heartbroken by the news of Mrs. Norris being Petrified!
But why would Filch suspect him?
He'd done nothing. Why was Mr. Filch so adamant that he was the one who Petrified Mrs. Norris? Lately, the caretaker had been following him around, feeling he should be held responsible and at least give a reasonable explanation.
"I'll be watching you." He remembered Mr. Filch's gloomy face and what he'd said.
Even under Mr. Filch's relentless surveillance, some gossip had begun spreading around him—some students had started to whisper among themselves that he was the Heir to the Chamber of Secrets.
This panicked him. He remembered what the Sorting Hat had told him, that he'd do well in Slytherin. Could he be a Slytherin? Could he be the Heir?
In his confusion and anxiety, Harry desperately needed someone to step forward and speak up for him in his defense.
"Thank you, Draco," Harry said to the boy in the hospital bed. Seeing the faint, pale smile on Draco's face, he eagerly asked, "Did you hear what Professor Dumbledore said just now? He said the Chamber of Secrets really is open. And what do you think of his line, 'The question is not who, the question is how'?"
Draco, of course, heard Dumbledore's words. After a long silence, he slowly said, "Harry, I think I have a clue about 'who it is.'"
"Really?" Harry grabbed Draco's hand excitedly, then let go because of his cry of pain. "Oh! Sorry, I forgot."
"Can I assume you also heard the same sound when Mrs. Norris had her accident? The kind that others couldn't hear?" Draco asked, face contorted, enduring the excruciating pain of his bones resetting.
"Yes..." Harry hesitated for a moment before finally confessing, "That day, we went to Nick's Deathday Party, and later we got hungry and wanted to go upstairs to eat something for the living. That's when I heard strange noises, so I followed them and found Mrs. Norris Petrified on the third floor. Hermione told me not to tell anyone, and Ron also said that hearing strange noises that others can't hear isn't a good sign."
Draco had known all along that Harry was a Parselmouth. He just didn't know how to connect the dots.
Now, combined with the details of Harry's confession to him, everything had come together.
The sound Harry heard was most likely the Basilisk's hissing.
Whenever the Basilisk appeared, Harry would be drawn to the inaudible sounds and run to the victim.
He was like a Niffler drawn to the sight of gold. Like a murderer frequently appearing at a crime scene, these bizarre coincidences, in the eyes of the unsuspecting crowd, led to an inevitable conclusion—he was definitely not innocent, and he must be involved.
In his past life, rumors had become increasingly bizarre and exaggerated as they spread.
In the end, Harry was recognized as the Heir to the Chamber of Secrets.
"They're right—you really shouldn't tell everyone this. People will be horrified, even afraid of you." Suddenly, Draco understood Hermione's hesitation in not telling him the details.
He understood why she'd kept something from him.
She was a girl loyal to her friends. Just as she was willing to keep Draco's secret from a third person, she'd be just as willing to keep Harry's secret from a third person.
It wasn't that she didn't trust him—she was simply loyal to her friend. He'd known this about her for a long time, so why should he hold a grudge? Draco's lips twitched slightly.
Imagining the little girl shattering the Bludger made Draco feel a little better.
He had no intention of wasting time, so he went straight to the point and asked Harry, "Tell me, Harry, have you ever spoken to a snake?"
"I only did it once. It was at a Muggle zoo, and I accidentally released a boa constrictor—it's a long story—at the time, I didn't know I was a wizard," Harry said.
"I think I'm right. Harry, you're a Parselmouth," Draco said without any preamble.
His words became more direct because of the pain.
"Parselmouth?" Harry asked. "What does that mean?"
"In short, you can talk to snakes. That's Salazar Slytherin's signature ability. The symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent," Draco said, giving a bitter laugh.
Harry stood there speechless, stunned.
After a while, he asked in a hoarse voice, "Why me? Am I some distant relative of Slytherin?"
"I don't know," Draco said wearily, trying not to think about the thirty-odd bones growing violently inside him. "It's not impossible. I've never heard of Parselmouths in the Potter family until you came along. Maybe you can check the family tree someday and see if there are any Slytherin descendants who intermarried with your ancestors. Anyway, you're definitely not mad or have something wrong with your brain."
"That's a relief," Harry said with a hint of sarcasm. Draco could tell he wasn't relieved at all.
"So, I'm a Parselmouth. What does that mean? I should be in Slytherin, not Gryffindor?" Harry's tone was a little agitated.
"Don't worry about all that! The Sorting Hat has made its decision, and you're a Gryffindor," Draco said gruffly. "That's not the point of this conversation. The point is, those strange, inaudible sounds you're hearing might just be because you're a Parselmouth."
You couldn't blame Draco for being impatient. It hurt too much. Every vibration from his voice made him hear the cracking sound of bones growing inside him.
Harry's voice softened. He finally began considering the issue, following Draco's lead. "You mean, the sound I heard was a snake's voice? Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey were Petrified by a snake? Is that even possible? I mean, shouldn't snakes use their fangs to bite?"
Even though all Draco could see was the dark ceiling of the ward, he could roughly imagine Harry's bewildered expression.
"Harry, imagine—would Salazar Slytherin use an ordinary snake to guard such an important Chamber of Secrets? It must be an extraordinary snake, a snake that can live for thousands of years. I mean, a Basilisk," Draco said groggily.
The sedative ingredients in Madam Pomfrey's potion gradually began taking effect, and his eyelids grew heavy.
"A Basilisk?" Harry asked. "Are you sure?"
"Of course, this is just my guess." Draco yawned with difficulty to avoid aggravating his sensitive new bones with violent jolts. "Do some research, Harry. The wizarding world is far more vast and complex than you imagine. At least ask Hermione—she didn't just read all those books in the library for nothing."
"All right," Harry said reluctantly. "So, what does Professor Dumbledore mean by 'how'? Do you have any guesses?"
"I'd like to figure that out too," Draco said softly. "But Harry, isn't curfew coming soon?"
"Curfew has passed," Harry glanced at the wall clock, jumped up, grabbed his Invisibility Cloak, and put it on. "I have to go! They're both waiting for me in the common room."
"Go, go—get away from the third floor, don't let Mr. Filch catch you..." Draco mumbled incoherently, once again drifting into a tiring and painful sleep.
Early Sunday morning, Draco was blinded by the winter sun.
After a whole night of rapid growth, all his bones had been repaired and no longer caused him unbearable pain. But when he propped himself up on his arms to get up and move around, he still felt very stiff.
The ward was quiet and peaceful, with only rows of empty white beds and sunlight streaming in.
And Madam Pomfrey.
She was drawing the curtains around Colin Creevey's bed. Seeing Draco awake, she came over with a breakfast tray and began checking his bones.
"You're recovering well," Madam Pomfrey said with satisfaction. "After you finish breakfast and change into your own clothes, you can go." With that, she walked briskly out of the ward and considerately closed the door for Draco.
Draco had no appetite. He ate a few mouthfuls of porridge, then quickly put down his spoon, hurriedly changed from his hospital pajamas into his own clothes, and was wondering whether he should pull back the curtain around the neighboring bed to see that unfortunate Colin Creevey.
At this moment, the ward was quiet, and apart from Draco, there was no one else breathing.
However, the next second, a loud crack shattered the atmosphere.
"Dobby is sorry, young master!" Dobby knelt on the ground with tears in his eyes, banging his head violently against the floor.
"Stop! What's wrong?" Draco asked, puzzled.
He noticed that Dobby's fingers were covered in bandages—it seemed he'd burned himself.
"Dobby's Bludger hurt young master! Dobby didn't mean it!" It swayed its body back and forth, its ugly large head bobbing.
"What do you mean? What do you mean by 'your Bludger'? Did you do it? Did you almost kill me?" Draco suddenly felt a surge of anger. This unexpected information shocked and enraged him. "Why? Who gave you the order?"
"Dobby is not trying to kill you, absolutely not, young master!" Dobby's large eyes were filled with terror. "Dobby just wants Harry Potter to go home! Going home even though he's badly injured is better than staying here! History is repeating itself, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened—Harry Potter is in danger! Dobby just wants to help!"
"What do you mean by history repeating itself? What else do you know?" Draco asked in surprise.
"When Dobby was cleaning the fireplace in the study, Dobby overheard Master saying that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened again, and that there was something about Harry Potter, the Weasleys, and that they were doomed! Dobby was terrified!" Dobby said, his ears drooping and his voice trembling.
Recently, Draco hadn't had any tasks for Dobby, so he'd told him to go back to Malfoy Manor and work with the other house-elves. Little did he know that Dobby would outsmart him.
Merlin! You should never underestimate Dobby's obsession with Harry Potter.
"Dobby! Harry is my friend—I'll protect him. He's not stupid, he can protect himself!" Draco could no longer maintain his composure. He said angrily, "You did a terrible job, Dobby! I'm docking your pay!"
"Young master is willing to risk his life for Harry Potter! He doesn't care if his pay is docked!" Dobby sobbed, a mixture of sadness and joy. "But Dobby still hopes Harry Potter can go home, and it would be best if young master came home too! Everyone should go home!"
"This isn't something you can decide. You're being completely presumptuous! Stop trying to hurt Harry and send him home! That's my order! Never again use a Bludger to hurt anyone! In fact, without my summons, you're not allowed to come to Hogwarts or get near Harry Potter!" Draco scratched his head in frustration, not even bothering to give Dobby a second glance.
He didn't even want to see that annoying creature again!
Dobby sobbed on the spot and Disapparated sadly.
Just then, a noise came from the ward door, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.
Draco cursed under his breath, rushed over and opened the door, only to see a wisp of brown hair disappear around the corner at the corridor's end.
The length and curl of her hair made it impossible for him to ignore—it was Hermione.
She'd heard everything.