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The vague and murky thoughts rolled over and over in the back of my mind. But suddenly, a bright light hit my eyes. In an attempt to get rid of the annoying source of irritation, I fumbled on the bed and almost collapsed from it. I opened my eyes abruptly and sat up, looking around, but there was nothing much to see. The high windows let in light from the sun rising over the hills, white curtains around the bed, the bed itself iron and very plain, and the sheets on it were snowy white. A hospital wing, no less.
I myself was dressed in a simple gray striped pajama suit, and on the bedside table next to were my folded clothes and a wand on top of them. I felt kind of good, no problems, so I decided to change. But as soon as I took my things from the bedside table, the curtain slid aside, revealing our matron, Madam Pomfrey.
"Mr. Knight, good morning."
"Morning."
"I need to check on your condition before you leave the hospital wing."
"Sure. What should I do?"
"Stand still."
For about a minute, Madam Pomfrey waved her wand around , without words or gestures, and only the occasional soft flashes of blue and green light at the tip of her wand spoke of the matron's witchcraft.
"Everything is fine, Mr. Knight," the matron placed her wand with a slight smile sowhere in her uniform, so similar to that of the Sisters of rcy. "You may change and leave the hospital wing. Curfew ended half an hour ago."
"Excuse , ma'am. How long have I been in here?"
"The boggart incident happened yesterday. Now," matron glanced at the sky outside the window, "as you can see, it's Friday morning. It's still an hour and a half before breakfast. The rest of the guys have already recovered and left the hospital wing as soon as curfew ends."
"Thank you."
Following the matron's recomndation, after changing my clothes and a couple of simple household charms to get myself relatively tidy, I hung my bag on my shoulder and headed into the House common room, digesting the recent events at the sa ti. Boggart had a very strange effect on . There was so completely incomprehensible situation in the course of which those present suffered. But the biggest problem is that I still didn't understand what I was afraid of. At that mont, though, I wasn't even afraid. It's weird. It's all weird.
I quickly got to the common room, and the classmates were already sitting there, suffering from idleness, playing gobstones. Neville was playing chess against Ron with a very focused look on his face.
"And here is the hero of the occasion," Hermione waved her hand with a smile. She invited to take a seat next to her on the couch, which I did, drawing the attention of the others in the process.
"Tell ."
"Tell you what?"
"Well, obviously," Ron said without taking his eyes off the chessboard. "What was that all about? Boggart took us all down at once. Never heard of such a thing."
"I don't know. I still don't know what I'm afraid of. What are you all doing here?"
"We got enough sleep," smiled Lavender, along with Parvati. "Through your fault."
"Anyway," Ron said with a smile, "Checkmate, Neville."
"Uh-huh... Again."
"The important thing," Ron continued, turning back to , "That the snakes got what they deserved. I bet Malfoy is now telling everybody how he will complain to Daddy, and he will punish us all. "
After making sure that the people did not seem to hold any grudge for what had happened, I went into the room, threw off my things, and went to the shower. I still had ti, but not enough ti to practice.
I ended up being one of the last in the great hall. I had to eat my breakfast in the accelerated mode so I wouldn't be late for Snape's potions - the record for the amount of ti I'd studied without getting the point deducted was stupid. Still, it would be mine if I could hold out until Christmas this year.
Snape, as always, hovered over the room as a grim shadow, hovering heavily over poor us. The only ones who were immune to the Snape Factor were myself and Hermione. I was a little afraid of him, but Hermione was simply annoyed by him.
Malfoy was annoying today, too. He seed to be sitting right next to Potter, pestering him with quiet questions about Black and whether Harry personally wants to catch him. For revenge, no? Oh, Harry doesn't know! And things like that.
Imdiately after Snape's class, outside the classroom door, I couldn't help but hear the line:
"I'll write to my father," Malfoy told his comrades confidently and with a smirk, "and he'll be sure to settle the matter with that mudblood."
"And with the incompetent Lupin," soone among the Slytherins echoed.
"Of course," nodded Draco. "Of course..."
Interesting... Either information about Lucius' death is a big secret, and no one knows about it, or he's capable of living without a head. A couple of jokes about it are swirling in my mind, but it's kind of unfunny if he turned out to be alive. Or maybe that Lucius wasn't real? But I do monitor the situation through the press and conversations. Since our fateful and hopefully the last eting, Lucius Malfoy has not appeared anywhere else.
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