Harry took a breath and opened his eyes, feeling as if his heart had been grabbed and let go. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

It was snow-white, and Harry felt like he was away from home with a lot of sunlight pouring in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Strange, how long had he been lying there? Apparently he was on the Quidditch pitch before a blink of an eye, watching Vio hold Lohar in place, but now he was lying here.

There was no one in front of her, and Madam Pomfrey probably didn't know that he had woken up.

Harry barely raised his arm, but he didn't have much strength and moved freely. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he could continue to play Quidditch, but his stomach soon burned like a raging fire, and his internal organs twitched in pain.

In the end, the game must be over, who found the Golden Snitch? Who else but Malfoy?

In the absence of a Seeker, another Seeker, even if he is a troll, will definitely find the Snitch in the end, not to mention that Draco has already discovered the Snitch by then.

He sat up, hesitating whether to call Madam Pomfrey.

But she happened to step into the room at this moment, and removed a worry for him.

Her mouth was wide open and couldn't close for a long time, and she didn't seem to know it, just stared at Harry with a loud gasp, gasp.

"You're on your own!" Madam Pomfrey said "Merlin," then went up and grabbed Harry's shoulder, excitedly saying, "Miracle you must have something in you that specializes in dark magic!"

"It was that terrible spell before, and now you're unconscious, and you've survived it, I'm going to tell Professor McGonagall right away!

Confused, Harry let her and her wand scan and look at him over and over again, not understanding what she meant, wasn't he cured by Madam Pomfrey?

A broken arm turned out to be so terrifying?

"Come, drink, kid. Madam Pomfrey hurried back to her office, and soon returned, a teacup of potion in her hand.

Harry took it and looked at it, and immediately wanted to faint again.

The potion was a sticky brown color like silt, and it smelled of burnt plastic.

Madam Pomfrey kept urging him, and he had to pinch his nose and pour it into his stomach as best he could.

The gel-like potion slid down his throat, and it felt like a small snake sneaking freely through his chest.

Soon, a burning sensation ignited everywhere the potion flowed, and Harry struggled to endure it.

A few hours later, Harry was discharged from the hospital with all kinds of twists and turns.

Madam Pomfrey looked at him attentively, her eyes so loving, as if Harry would sooner or later be one of the various research specimens that Professor Snape had given her.

Harry hurried away.

He walked all the way through the courtyard under the West Tower and then through the antechamber of the auditorium, where he met many of his classmates, who were amazed at him. Except for Colin taking out his camera and taking a few more sneak peeks at Harry, everything was much better than he had imagined, and no one talked about any Quidditch matches.

Back in the common room, Percy and Wood take turns talking to him, Percy feels like a prefect and should care about everyone, and very formally tells Harry that everyone is still proud of him.

He congratulated Harry on getting back on his feet, mentioning that everyone knew that the Slytherins were always scheming, but the Gryffindors always managed to win in the end.

Wood wasn't so reasonable.

He summed up Harry's performance and found him impeccable, but then he turned hoarse and denounced the unfairness of Madame Hooch's decision: "She must have been dazzled by the yellow of that little devil's head."

"I mean, you're about to catch that snitch, but one of them came out and messed with Mrs. Hodge, and said the result was admittable."

"It's all Harry, I've been chased all over the field by a big bat, and I'm going to give you a warm welcome back to our new bat fighter!" ...... a bow," George and Fred shouted happily as they sat on their hands in Harry's armchairs.

It was much more reassuring to Harry than the reassuring voices everywhere, at least Fred and George took it as a joke rather than really as his mistake.

"You," Wood was dissatisfied, and whispered that they shouldn't have made fun of Harry, "so he might cry at night."

"yes, crying so hard, tears can drown Ron!" George smiled as he handed magic candy to a first-year freshman walking past him. "New flavors, new effects, Honey Duke customization, six copper nats!"

"Then we'll write to Mom and tell us that next year Ron's books and living expenses will be enough for us to fund our activities!" Fred took a silver sike from his newborn, and took a small handful of bronze from his pocket and handed it back.

The people next to him laughed.

Wood had to finally say, "As long as Slytherin loses to Hufflepuff and we win Hufflepuff and make it to the final," Harry nodded desperately.

Ron and Hermione and Vio hadn't been seen all afternoon, they should have picked him up, Harry thought.

He walked to the auditorium alone, and on the way he met Nick, who was almost headless.

He wore a fashionable hat with feathers buttoned into his long curly hair, and a knee-length tunic with a wheel-like ruffled collar pinned to it, obscuring the fact that his neck had been almost completely severed.

Nick didn't notice him, but stood under the eaves, ripped his head off his neck and put it back on.

After many successions, there was still a trace of his neck, and his head hung on his shoulders, unable to fall.

The ghost sighed deeply, as if in despair of its skinned head.

Harry felt a striking resemblance to his own state of mind.

He walked up and asked what was going on.

As soon as he spoke, Nick, who was almost headless, panicked and crumpled a transparent letter and stuffed it into his inner pocket.

"Hello, Harry Potter?" and when he saw that it was Harry, his voice was excited again, and there was a glimmer of unclear hope.

Harry was a little confused, but nodded anyway.

"Would you like to come to my death party? It's like a birthday party for the living. "I ran into three of your best friends the other day, and you were still in the hospital, so I invited them first, but after all, Mr. Potter, if you have time," Nick said.

Before Harry could speak, Peeves popped out of the nearby wall, carrying a large chandelier that had just been removed, and was about to throw it at Harry's head in a nasty song.

Harry had barely dodged when he heard a terrible cat howl from behind him, and Lady Loris was smashed and couldn't get up for a long time.

"Hahahaha, Potter Potter silly baby, you can't get away with it, you can't run away in the end, Filch is coming! goodbye! Potter!" Peeves tugged at his hat, lifted his trouser leg at Harry, gave a symbolic greeting, and ran away giggling.

"Let's go, Harry!" said Nick, grimacingly, as he did not expect. "Filch has been in a bad mood lately.

"Several third-graders accidentally sent frog brains up to the ceiling of the fifth basement classroom. He's been doing it all morning, and he's been yelling everywhere to 'take revenge on a little cub,' and you shouldn't be in front of him at this time."

Harry nodded, stepping away and staring warily at Lady Loris, who was wailing.

But late.

Filch rushed behind Harry from behind a tapestry, grabbing him by the collar and lifting his feet off the ground.

He gasped and glared at Harry like madness.

"Beat my cat!" he cried, pointing to Lady Loris, who had finally emerged from under a pile of debris and the skeleton of a chandelier, stretching out, her eyes bulging like frogs, and the flesh on her chins shaking violently, as if a powerful engine had been installed.

"I'm fed up with my cat while I'm not bullying it! I'm scared of it on the surface, but secretly beating it up, Potter!

Nick, who was almost headless, panicked, and he looked at Harry who was being dragged away like a sack, and felt his heart pound, even though he didn't know what a heartbeat felt like.

He settled down and quickly flew up from the ceiling, he had just seen the bloody Barrow sitting upstairs, and he thought he could help a little (to be continued). "Elegy for Glory" only represents the author's point of view, if its content is found to be in violation of national laws and conflicts, please delete it, the position is only committed to providing a healthy and green reading platform.

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