Harry behaved like a soulless android. While Richie cleaned the scratch with cotton swabs and hydrogen peroxide, Harry did not even hiss in pain, as though his senses had been dulled. Grosvenor treated the wound with the potion, and the scratch began healing before his eyes. Then he immediately set about wiping the droplets of blood from Harry's face and hands with cotton swabs.
"I killed him, Richie," Potter muttered. "It was Dobby."
"Yeah," Richard replied without looking up from what he was doing.
"After the exam, I wanted to be alone," Potter continued. "I remembered this room. I thought no one would bother me with questions in here. Then suddenly the AI warned me that someone invisible had appeared in the room."
"Useful gadget," Richard commented, continuing to scrub the more stubborn specks from his friend's skin with peroxide.
Harry shuddered nervously. He was trying not to look towards the house-elf's remains.
"I could see him through the thermal imager," he continued. "I shouted, 'Hey, you. Get out. I don't want any trouble.' And then he said in this horrible, cold voice, 'Harry Potter must not remain at school!'"
"What a bastard!" Grosvenor commented.
Potter glanced towards the house-elf's head. The sight of the bloodied remains nearly made him lose his lunch.
"And I..." he said. "Richie, I didn't know what to do. Then Dobby used magic to lift one of the desks into the air. I realised he was about to throw it at me and kill me. And then I remembered the glasses and activated the weapon. Richie, it was horrible! I panicked and fired both railguns in one long burst. Stone fragments went whistling everywhere, desks were blown to splinters, and Dobby..." He gave a hysterical sob. "That's all that's left of him!"
"Harry, calm down, just calm down," Richard said in a cold, even tone. "Everything's perfectly all right. You did well. Harry, can you hear me? You did exactly the right thing. That's what you're supposed to do when your life is in danger."
"But I killed him..." Potter whispered.
"So you killed him. So what?" Richard shrugged. "It happens. It was either you or him. Harry, it's all right."
"They'll expel me," Potter continued in a voice full of misery. "Or even send me to prison..."
"Harry, stop making up all sorts of nonsense!" Richard said sternly. "No one's going to expel you. And no one's going to send you to prison either. It was self-defence. Besides, we're going to get rid of the body now, so no one will ever know."
"Get rid of the body?" Potter stared at his friend in horror.
"Well, yes." Richard remained outwardly calm. Of course he was shaken too, but he was trying to steady himself by repeatedly telling himself that these were merely pieces of meat and stains of coloured liquid.
"Richie, you're going to help me get rid of the body?!" Harry stared at Richard with enormous, astonished eyes.
"We're friends." Richard gave a slight shrug. "By the way, Harry, I hope you haven't called anyone else?"
"No." Potter shook his head vigorously. "I wanted to call Ron, but then I remembered he's got Quidditch practice today."
"Excellent!" Grosvenor said, delighted. "The fewer people who know about this, the better our chances of keeping it secret. Come on, Harry, pull yourself together. I need your help."
***
Interlude
Draco Malfoy stepped out of the Potions classroom, where the final exam of the year had just taken place, and at last breathed freely.
The year had been surprisingly peaceful and had brought the heir to the great House of Malfoy no unpleasant surprises. On the contrary, his school life had begun to improve.
First, he had been accepted as Seeker for his House team. Many students had been displeased and complained that Draco's father had bought him his place, but the boy himself understood that all those Mudbloods and paupers were simply jealous of him and confusing cause and effect. Obviously, he had been accepted onto the team because of his exceptional talent, while his father, delighted by the news, had merely given the rest of the team a generous present.
Then, towards the middle of the school year, that upstart Grosvenor had decided he wanted to leave school to attend some pointless Muggle competition or something of the sort—Draco had not bothered with the details. This had led to a quarrel with McGonagall and attracted a great deal of attention that ought never to have gone to Muggle rubbish like Grosvenor in the first place. At first, Draco had even been jealous, but only until the events at dinner, when Professor Lockhart had made such an exquisitely clever mockery of the revolting little upstart. Gilderoy Lockhart truly was a great wizard!
All in all, in an excellent mood at the prospect of the approaching holidays, Draco headed towards his common room. He was already halfway there when he spotted Grosvenor hurtling at full speed towards the North Wing. Malfoy was considerably surprised, since normally the snob stalked everywhere with great dignity, carrying his cane.
And then the boy suddenly felt a chill in his heart as he remembered the events of the previous year. Troubled by a nasty premonition, Draco decided to follow Richie.
Grosvenor had already gained a considerable lead, so when Draco rounded the next corner of the castle, all he saw was a door swinging shut.
The boy's heart dropped into his stomach as Malfoy suddenly remembered why this corridor seemed so familiar.
"That's the same room..." Draco whispered in a trembling voice.
Thoughts galloped through the boy's mind:
What are they planning to do this time? This is extremely suspicious. I have to tell my godfather everything. Wait... What if they've stolen something from me again? I have to intervene before it's too late.
The boy immediately whipped out his wand and hurried towards the door.
Quite reasonably fearing for his own sanity, Draco decided to listen first and find out what was happening inside the room.
Malfoy pressed his ear to the door, but not a single sound reached him. Apparently, those deranged vivisectionists had put a Silencing Charm or some sort of sealing spell on the door.
The Malfoy heir, however, had no intention of simply retreating. The boy pointed his wand at the door and uttered a powerful unlocking spell:
"Apertum Potentibus!"
The lock clicked almost inaudibly, and the first sounds from inside the room reached the boy's ears:
"...besides, we're going to get rid of the body now, so no one will ever know..."
"Oh, fuck that!" he whispered, so quietly that there was no chance those maniacs could hear him.
White as a sheet, Draco carefully locked the door again exactly as it had been and crept away on tiptoe, muttering quietly under his breath:
"I didn't hear anything, I didn't see anything... Fuck this..."
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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