Silence descended for a while. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Hermione said pensively:
"Boys..."
"Yes, Hermione?" Richard looked attentively at his friend.
"Hm?" Potter responded.
Granger glanced towards the mince that half the monster's carcass had been reduced to. The other half was still lodged in Slytherin's almost completely shattered mouth.
"You know, that was a relic creature," she continued.
"Probably..." Harry replied distractedly, far more concerned with his robe and his wounds. Once again, he was spattered from head to toe with blood, and his clothes had been reduced to rags. The boy was trying to work out how much of the blood was his and how much belonged to the snake. "Richie, can you give me some Wiggenweld Potion?" he continued.
Richard nodded, reached into his bag, and handed Potter a partly used vial of the potion, a large bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and some cotton wool. Harry began tending to his wounds.
Hermione waited until Richard turned his attention back to her, then continued:
"Richie, surely you understand. Salazar Slytherin's own magical serpent! It was a relic, a treasure!"
"Mmm..." Richard rubbed his chin. "Let's say it was. Hermione, where are you going with this?"
"We killed it!"
"It was self-defence," Grosvenor objected.
"Yes," Granger agreed. "But that doesn't change the fact that we've destroyed such a valuable creature. For all we know, it might even have had an inventory number, and at the very least Professor Dumbledore might have known about it... And we've also destroyed a priceless tenth- or eleventh-century statue... We'll be expelled!"
Richard looked at Hermione, shifted his gaze to the heap of mince and stone, then looked at the monument, of which only the lower portion remained: the feet and the robes up to the middle of the torso. He looked back at Hermione, his eyes slightly widened. Then his gaze returned to the statue, and he froze in horror at the sight of an entire half of the gigantic serpent still wedged inside its lair. By his estimate, there were at least ten metres of carcass left in there, no less than a metre in diameter. Grosvenor's eyes glazed over, his lips began to tremble, and his face twisted.
"Damn it!" he exclaimed angrily, then let out a long, loud groan before adding mournfully, "Another corpse to get rid of!"
"What? Where?"
Potter tore his attention away from treating his wounds and whipped his head around. His gaze came to rest on the serpent's carcass. He understood... Potter's face displayed an entire cocktail of emotions: sadness, fear, comprehension, and utter astonishment.
"N-n-no..." His voice trembled. "Oh, no... Don't tell me we're going to have to get rid of the snake's corpse too..."
Potter looked hopefully at his companions.
"Don't even hope, Mr Potter!" Hermione shattered Harry's hopes in an icy voice.
"But..." Potter looked pleadingly at Grosvenor. "Richie, you're the one who killed it..."
"I am." Richard tried to restore his face to the emotional expressiveness of a concrete block. "And? Harry, surely you're not going to refuse to help us?"
It was as though all the air had been let out of Harry at once. His shoulders slumped dejectedly, and he replied sadly:
"Of course I'll help, Richie. I'm sorry... This is all my fault... If it weren't for me..."
"Hermione," Richard's voice interrupted Potter's lamentations.
"Yes, Richie?" the girl responded.
"Slap Harry."
At first Hermione was taken aback by the request, but her lips quickly curved into a smile and a mischievous gleam appeared in her eyes.
"With pleasure!" She began advancing on Potter.
Harry recoiled in fright.
"Hey?" He stared at his friends in bewilderment. "What's got into you?"
Richard finally managed to achieve his goal. His face acquired all the emotional expressiveness of a paving stone, and he said calmly:
"Harry, don't resist. It's a tried-and-tested method. Helps with depression, takes your mind off unnecessary thoughts, and lets you concentrate on the task at hand."
"Richie, Hermione," Harry said, holding up his hands in front of him, "there's no need to hit me. I understand."
But Hermione had already got carried away. She was looking at Potter like a butcher contemplating a carcass before cutting it up, wondering where best to bring down the cleaver. Behind the gleaming pink lenses, a very real excitement could be seen in the girl's eyes. Her lips curled into a predatory grin.
"Hold on, hold on," she said quietly, as though afraid of startling her prey. "Doctor's orders. If he says you need hitting, then you need hitting!"
Harry continued backing away, watching Granger in horror. He pleaded:
"Richie, tell her she doesn't need to hit me!"
"Hmm..." Grosvenor thoughtfully rubbed his chin between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. "I don't know..."
Hermione pounced on Potter like a starving predator. She clearly had no intention of limiting herself to a slap, judging by her tightly clenched fists. Harry barely managed to dodge the girl's blow.
"RICHIE!" he pleaded. "I understand! I understand everything! Honestly, I do!"
"Hermione," Richard said.
"Yes?" The worked-up girl turned towards him, her cheeks flushed and her breathing quickened.
"Save your strength," Grosvenor continued. "We still need to work out how to dispose of that snake..."
Hermione turned back to Harry, eagerly licked her lips, and hissed in a menacing whisper:
"Potter... Today's your lucky day!"
Proudly lifting her nose, Hermione spun sharply on the spot and strode back towards her friend. She tried not to look at the remains of the snake, but there were far too many of them for that to be remotely possible.
Potter's whisper came from behind her:
"She's even scarier than Richie when he sees a priceless artefact..."
"I can hear you!" Hermione said.
"Me? What did I do?" Harry responded. "I didn't say anything..."
Potter trudged after Granger. Meanwhile, Richard was disgustedly pulling black polythene bags containing Dobby's remains and Potter's ruined robe out of his bag. This rubbish joined the heap of minced snake.
(End of Chapter)
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