Chapter 162 Different Ways to Manage Fractures
Slytherin common room.
Aaron stacked Lockhart's seven books together and Transfigured them into a cage as tall as the ceiling, then put the two roosters he had painstakingly acquired into it.
Listening to their high-pitched crowing, Aaron found it particularly pleasant, a sound called security.
Roosters are the natural enemies of the Basilisk, and with these two treasures, the task of slaying the Basilisk was halfway complete.
However, before finding the Heir of Slytherin, he still had to keep a low profile and not let anyone know he had two lively roosters here.
Aaron hesitated for a moment and cast a sound-proofing charm on the cage.
But he still felt somewhat insecure, so he cast a Disillusionment Charm on the two roosters, so that even if someone came to his dormitory, they wouldn't notice anything unusual.
Tick! Tock!
Aaron thought of something, rolled his eyes speechlessly, and turned to look at Abey, who was hastily wiping away drool, "I've told you many times, they can't be eaten.
Currently at Hogwarts, besides Dumbledore, they are the biggest talismans.
Understood?"
Abey nodded repeatedly, but still couldn't help but look at the cage, a wisp of Incendio accidentally escaping from the corner of his mouth.
"Holy crap!" Aaron immediately stood in front of the cage, "If you dare to pretend to accidentally roast these two chickens, I'll roast you."
Abey's face drooped, and a faint sadness appeared in his eyes, as if to say, 'My master no longer loves me.'
"Good boy." Aaron patted his head and soothed, "After we deal with that snake, I'll treat you to a lavish meal.
But right now, you really can't touch them. You must restrain that damn appetite, just for your master's safety."
Upon hearing the last half-sentence, Abey's eyes became unusually firm. Compared to his master's safety, two chickens were nothing.
"Understood. I'd rather starve to death, die outside, than lay a hand on them."
Aaron:...Goodness, you shouldn't make such a bold statement!
"Remember what you said!" Aaron said, picking up Abey, "Now let's go to the Quidditch Pitch and see, maybe we can still catch the end of the match."
When they arrived at the Quidditch Pitch, they clearly felt the overwhelming momentum, even grander than when the match began.
Aaron leaned in for a look and couldn't help but widen his eyes.
He saw two figures, one red and one green, soaring through the Quidditch Pitch. Harry and Draco ascended and descended, flew close to the ground, and made sharp turns, performing various difficult maneuvers with utmost skill.
If the Golden Snitch in front was their reason for exerting themselves, then what in the world was that crazy bludgerbehind them?
Just then, a huge figure entered Aaron's field of vision. Hagrid was nervously watching Harry Potter flying at high speed through a telescope, with Hermione and Ronstanding on his left and right.
Aaron immediately pushed through the crowded people and walked up to the three, "Can someone explain what happened?"
"Harry is being targeted by a rogue bludger. Someone must have tampered with it," Hagrid said angrily.
"I wanted to stop that bludger," Ron said dejectedly, "but Hermione wouldn't let me, and Harry didn't seem to want me to either."
"That's right. It would be a miracle if your wand didn't send you flying off. Wait, isn't Madam Hooch doing anything?"
Hermione shook her head, "Both teams seem to have reached some agreement and both agreed for the match to continue. In this situation, she couldn't very well refuse."
Aaron looked at the bludger, which was flying so fast it left afterimages, and couldn't help but frown.
Harry Potter seemed to be uncommonly unlucky. Last year his broom had problems, and this year the bludger was targeting him.
It seemed that every match between Gryffindor and Slytherin had an accident. He just didn't know whose handiwork it was this time, but it certainly wouldn't be Slytherin's.
But what surprised him even more was Draco's decision. One had to know that the score on the Quidditch Pitch was two hundred to forty, with Slytherin leading Gryffindor by one hundred sixty points.
It could be said that Draco's mission was already accomplished. Even if he gave up the Golden Snitch, Slytherin would still win, so there was no need to try so hard.
However, when he saw Lucius Malfoy also sitting at the referee's table, he immediately understood why Draco was willing to take such a big risk to contend for the Golden Snitch.
There was no particular reason; it was about not losing face, purely a son wanting to prove himself in front of his father.
The outcome of the match between Slytherin and Gryffindor was already clear, and many people knew this, so the spectators gradually focused their attention on the two Seekers.
Draco's broom was a Nimbus 2001, slightly faster than Harry's Nimbus 2000, giving him a slight equipment advantage.
But unfortunately, this slight advantage was completely nullified by the wildly crashing bludger behind them.
After a long chase, both were physically and mentally exhausted, but neither was willing to give up.
Draco originally wanted to defeat Harry Potter honorably as a Seeker. After Slytherin had secured the victory, that would be his chance.
And Harry just wanted Gryffindor to lose a little more gracefully. Two hundred to one hundred ninety and three hundred fifty to forty actually made little difference and would not affect the outcome.
Although a bit frustrating, a narrow defeat sounded infinitely better than a crushing defeat.
The two accelerated continuously in their agony, and after gaining a little distance from the bludger, they simultaneously stretched out their left and right hands, reaching for the Golden Snitch.
Bang!
The bludger flew between the two. Draco, with slightly worse luck, was hit in his left arm and fell from his broom.
It was fortunate that they were flying at a relatively low altitude, otherwise, falling from that height would surely have resulted in more than just a few broken bones.
Harry was more severely injured. The bludger struck his right arm, knocking off his brown wrist guard.
After he fell from his broom, he slid for more than ten meters on the grass before finally coming to a stop, but he also caught his trophy, a Golden Snitch.
"Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch, earning Gryffindor one hundred fifty points.
But the total score is two hundred to one hundred ninety, Slytherin wins."
Jordan's voice fell, and a thunderous cheer erupted from the Quidditch Pitch.
However, some people also left the stands and rushed onto the Quidditch Pitch, as there were still two Seekers lying on the ground.
Aaron went to Draco, and the other members of the Slytherin team also flew around him.
"Sorry, I didn't catch the Golden Snitch."
"That was very good," Flint said thoughtfully, "Honestly, I'm angry, after all, our Seeker lost.
But this time was truly an accident. No one can find fault with your performance; it was just a bit of bad luck."
The others also nodded in agreement. Draco had been outstanding enough today; if it were them, they would probably have given up after the score exceeded one hundred fifty.
"By the way, where's that bludger?" Draco said, perking up. "Gryffindor must have tampered with it."
Upon hearing this, everyone turned their heads to one side and then silently dismissed the conjecture.
The bludger flew above Harry, then smashed down fiercely. If he hadn't rolled over in time, his face would probably have been flattened.
"Incendio."
Fierce Incendio shot from the tip of Aaron's wand, shattering the bludger.
"You're welcome, consider it revenge for you," Aaron said, walking over.
Draco tried to stand up, but as soon as he moved, a sharp Pain! shot through his left arm, causing him to cry out.
"Broken bone?"
"I think so." Draco said with a bitter smile, "I clearly heard a bone crack when I was knocked down."
"Don't move."
Aaron lifted his left arm, "How do you think Harry Potter's situation compares to yours?"
"Haha! He's definitely more..."
Crack!
A crisp sound, followed by a cry of Pain!.
"It's alright, I've set the bone for you."
Draco tried to wiggle his arm. There was no Pain! from a broken bone, but his arm still felt hot on the surface.
"You can do that too?"
"Muggle methods are sometimes more effective than magic," Aaron said with a smile, then looked at the Slytherins gathered around, "You two, take him to the infirmary."
Crabbe and Goyle reacted, each taking one of Draco's arms and helping him walk off the Quidditch Pitch.
Aaron then looked at the other group of people. A group of Gryffindors surrounded Harry. He had to squeeze his way in. "Is your arm broken too?
It looks a bit more serious than Draco's. Do you need help?"
Harry nodded blankly. He had seen Aaron set Draco's arm back earlier, so he naturally wouldn't refuse.
But just then, Lockhart took out his wand, "Don't worry, I'll fix your arm right away."
"No, don't." Harry was very resistant. These days, he had learned enough about this Defense Against the Dark Arts Class Professor. The most reliable thing about him was his unreliability.
Entrusting his arm to him was like entrusting a surgery to a nurse's aide.
"Let Aaron do it! He has experience."
"Don't worry, it's a very simple spell. I've tried it countless times." Lockhart ignored him and rolled up Harry's sleeve, "It won't hurt at all."
Harry still wanted to refuse, but Lockhart had already cast the spell, "Brackium Emendo."
A blue light flashed, and Harry's eyes widened slightly. His arm indeed felt less painful, but he felt something was wrong, as if something was missing.
Lockhart confidently lifted his arm, and gasps of surprise erupted from the crowd. Many people turned their faces away in discomfort.
This right arm could no longer be called an arm, because there was no bone inside, it was like a rubber hose.
"Hiss!" Aaron gasped, thinking Ron's wand was already outrageous enough, but he didn't expect Lockhart to be even worse.
"May I ask, Professor, has this spell you've tried countless times ever succeeded?"
"Hmm... don't be so dramatic. Sometimes it's just like this," Lockhart explained lamely, "The important thing is that Harry won't feel Pain!, and not a single bone is broken."
Aaron:... "Honestly, Azkaban truly needs talent like yours."
"Is that so? I also think the criminals there would be afraid of me."
"No, I mean if you performed comedy there, you would surely bring those criminals long-lost joy."