Neville quickly looped Harry's left arm over his shoulders and took hold of him by a fistful of belt on his right hip.
Harry could see Daphne was in tears. He said to her, "I'm okay, love. It's just a broken arm."
In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased. She immediately shoved a pain relief potion into his left hand and told him to drink it.
"You should have come straight to me!" she raged. "I can mend simple fractures in a second. But, when they're compounded like this..."
"You'll be able to fix it without removing it and regrowing it, won't you?" asked Harry, desperately. "That way bloody hurts!"
"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will still be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pyjamas. "You'll have to stay the night."
The girls waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Neville helped him out of his Quidditch robes and into his pyjamas. It took a while to ease the broken arm out of the robes and into the sleeve of the pyjamas.
"Just getting him out of his wet Quidditch robes was almost enough to make him vomit," Neville called through the curtain as he eased the sleeve up his injured arm.
As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm lying crookedly across his chest. Daphne and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labelled Skele-Gro.
Harry was thinking about what he remembered of this potion from his stay at Saint Mungo's when Madam Pomfrey hit him with a Stunning Hex. He woke a few minutes later to find his second elbow, and Daphne, were gone. But it looked like Neville had toughed it out, even if he was looking a little green.
"You're in for a rough night," she the medi-witch, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him, making sure he grasped it with his left hand. "Resetting and knitting bones is a nasty business."
So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned Harry's mouth and throat as it went down, making him cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Neville to help him gulp down some water. The partitions were removed and his friends all gathered around. Daphne was looking quite pale. "That was some catch you made. That poor 'Puff chaser's face - she looked ready to kill," said Tracey, an avid Quidditch fan.
"I want to know how, whoever did, fixed that bludger," said Hermione darkly.
"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask Madam Hooch," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. He was starting to feel quite sleepy.
The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Ravenclaw team had arrived to see Harry.
"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said Roger. "I've just seen Diggory trying not to yell too much at Miss Bobbin. Something about having the snitch on top of her head and not noticing. She didn't seem too happy.
"Oh!" he said, holding Harry's broom out. "I brought your broom with me. I thought to give it to one of your friends to look after for you, instead of leaving it in the broom shed. None of us leave our brooms there, either."
Hermione took it and said, "I'll look after it, Harry. It'll be safe in the Gryffindor Second Year girl's dorm."
The team had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice. They gathered around Harry's bed with his friends 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 has a compound fracture to repair and I don't want to see it misaligned! Out! OUT!"
And Harry was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains in his arm. Hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain. His upper arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.
"Get off!" he said loudly. And then, "Dobby!"
The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.
"Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably.
"Dobby warned Harry Potter. Ah, sir; why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he couldn't get through the barrier?" Harry heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.
"What're you doing here?" he asked. "And how did you know I almost missed the train?"
Dobby's lip trembled and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicion.
"It was you!" he said slowly. "You stopped the barrier from letting us through!"
"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway against Harry Potter Sir, and Dobby had to immediately iron his hands afterward." He showed Harry ten long, bandaged fingers. "But, Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Harry Potter would get through the barrier another way!" He was rocking backward and forward, shaking his ugly head. "Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir."
Harry slumped back onto his pillows. "You'd better get lost before my arm is repaired, Dobby, or I might strangle you."
Dobby smiled weakly.
"Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."
He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself.
"Why do you wear that thing, Dobby?" he asked curiously. "This, sir?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. "'Tis a mark of the house elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock; for then he would be free to leave their house forever."
Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his bludger would be enough to make..."
"Your bludger?" growled Harry, anger rising once more. "What do you mean, your bludger? You made that bludger try and kill me?"
"Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!" "Oh, is that all?" asked Harry, angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?"
"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world!
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