Chapter 92

I do not appreciate being spoken to this way, Mister Potter," the Headmaster coldly said back.

"Then do not put yourself in the position where, through your own inaction, you give cause for it to occur!" roared Harry.

The Headmaster stared coldly back at Harry for a few moments before he turned to Snape, instructed him to aid Poppy, and turned back to Harry.

"That will be detention, Mister Potter," he said. "Served with Mister Filch."

"Fine!" he replied. "But it will not be served until my bondmate is back on her feet and one hundred percent recovered. Clearly, I need to remain here to protect them both because evidence lying on that bed shows the staff are unwilling or incapable of doing it themselves."

Showing a hint of anger on his usually easy-going nominally grandfatherly countenance, instead of responding, Dumbledore turned and left the infirmary.

Harry turned to Hermione and said only loud enough for her to hear, "He had bloody well better contact the aurors and Matthias or I will. And, I'll be telling both that I... advised... the Headmaster to make sure he did the same, first. However, I do not believe he'll do either."

Both teens were sitting together alongside the bed opposite where Madam Pomfrey continued to slowly work when Harry noticed the witch was lightly sweating and seemed to be rapidly tiring out.

"Madam Pomfrey, when is the last time you ate or drank?" Harry sternly asked.

"I'm fine, Mister Potter," she almost waspishly snapped back.

"No; you're not," he firmly disagreed. "You're now talking to someone who has used that excuse far too often in the past. Dobby!"

"Yes, Master Harry?" the elf asked after popping in.

"Dobby, can you organise a cold pitcher of ice water, a cool damp towelette and something quick but nourishing for Madam Pomfrey to eat while on her feet and working?" asked Harry.

With a firm nod, Dobby popped away.

Turning back to the medi-witch, Harry could see her about to disagree but think better of it. Harry walked beyond the screens for a few moments and returned with one of the wheeled bed tables patients usually used for sitting in bed and eating meals or working on homework.

He arrived just in time for Dobby to pop back and place everything asked for on the table.

"Thank you," he said. "You've been a great help."

The little elf popped away again instead of bursting into tears, wailing about how great a wizard Harry was, as he often did; though not so much lately.

Harry poured the medi-witch a glass of water and insisted she take a few moments to drink it.

As she polished off a decent-sized glass of water he held the cool towel out to her. She took it and, as she wiped her face and the back of her neck, she said, "You have the makings of a fine healer, Mister Potter. You've already learned the first trick, of not accepting 'No' for an answer."

Harry smiled back as he poured a second glass and set it ready.

"Eat, too, Ma'am," he said. "Otherwise, you'll be joining your patient on the bed."

"I will, Mister Potter," she replied with a smile. "In just a little while I'll be able to stop for a time." Dropping the cloth back on the table, she said, "Now, Nurse Potter; go sit with your bondmate again. I've got work to do."

Harry gave a slight smile and returned to sitting with Hermione, holding her hand in comfort.

Ten minutes later, Madam Pomfrey stepped back and pulled a small atomiser from her pocket. She leaned back in and gently sprayed the solution within down the length of the gash before she pulled the sheet up to Daphne's neck. "Now," she sighed. "We need to leave that for about thirty minutes."

Turning more fully to Harry and Hermione she said, "Don't worry, you two. Everything's coming along nicely. I'm going to get a bite to eat and rest my legs for that time before I return and continue." She grabbed the edge of the bed table Harry had brought round and towed it back out beyond the screens.

She'd only been gone for a few minutes before Matthias and Deece came striding in. Hermione popped up, dashed to and threw herself into Deece's arms. "I couldn't stop him," she sobbed. "They attacked us from behind!"

Matthias stood looking at Daphne for a few moments before he asked, "What's the diagnosis, Mister Potter?"

"She's going to be fine," replied Harry. "Madam Pomfrey is taking her time in healing the wound so she doesn't end up with a wide scar. She's just sprayed something on it and wants that to sit for about another... twenty-odd minutes before she continues.

"As to what happened, Hermione and Daphne were walking back to our new apartment next to the Ravenclaw common room entrance when Marcus Flint, I believe, plus a few others came upon them from behind. Daphne was hit by... whatever that curse was he used... that slashed her from above her left shoulder blade down towards her lower back on the right. It was pretty deep and opened up nearly an inch wide at the widest point. It could have easily killed her. Another few inches to the right at the top, and it would have severed her jugular vein on that side. She'd have been dead in seconds.

"I have no idea who came upon them and revived Hermione... or brought both of them here... but they have my gratitude. One of my elves, Dobby, popped into our apartment and let me know Daphne had been hurt. I think Hermione sent him. I raced here as fast as I could.

"As for what was done after that," said Harry, his voice dropping into almost a growl. "Dumbledore came in and tried to say there were no witnesses so nothing could be done. Hermione quickly disabused him of that notion. She saw Flint cast before she went down.

"Dumbledore and I had heated words where I demanded both you and the DMLE be contacted to investigate the matter properly. The old fool tried to brush it under the carpet, trying to keep it as an internal matter. That then led to me being given detention, to which I refused it until Daphne's released from here one hundred percent healed and healthy.

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