Different Ways of Treating Fractures

Slytherin common room.

Aaron piled Lockhart's seven books together and used Transfiguration to turn them into a cage as tall as the ceiling. Then he put the two pheasants he had painstakingly acquired into the cage.

Aaron found their loud calls particularly pleasant; it was a sound that brought him a sense of security.

The rooster is the Basilisk's natural enemy. With these two treasures, the task of slaying the Basilisk is essentially half complete.

However, before finding the Heir of Slytherin, we must keep a low profile and not let anyone know that we have two lively little chickens here.

Aaron hesitated for a moment, then cast a soundproofing spell on the cage.

But he still felt a little uneasy, so he cast a Disillusionment Charm on the two chickens so that even if someone came to his dormitory, they wouldn't notice anything unusual.

Tick-tock! Tick-tock!

Aaron rolled his eyes speechlessly, then turned to look at Abei, who was hurriedly wiping his drool. "I've told you so many times, you can't eat them."

At present, at Hogwarts, apart from Dumbledore, they are the greatest talismans.

Do you understand?

Abei nodded hastily, but still couldn't help glancing at the cage, a wisp of flame accidentally spilling from the corner of his mouth.

"Holy crap!" Aaron immediately stood in front of the cage. "If you dare to pretend you accidentally roasted these two chickens, I'll roast you too."

Abei's face was droopy, and a faint sadness was in her eyes, as if to say that no one loved her anymore.

"Good boy/girl." Aaron patted its head and comforted it, "After we deal with that snake, I'll treat you to a big meal."

But you really can't touch them now; you have to suppress that damned appetite, for your safety and mine.

Upon hearing the last half of the sentence, Abei's eyes became unusually firm. Compared to the safety of the people, two chickens were nothing.

"I understand. I'd rather starve to death outside than lay a hand on them."

Aaron:...

Goodness gracious, this is a dangerous flag to set!

"Remember what you said!" Aaron said, picking Abei up. "Now let's go to the field and see if we can make it back in time for the game."

When they arrived at the Quidditch Pitch, they could clearly feel the overwhelming atmosphere, even more magnificent than when the game started.

Aaron leaned closer and took a look, and his eyes widened in surprise.

Two figures, one in red and one in green, darted across the field. Harry and Draco rose and fell, flew close to the ground, and made sudden turns, performing a variety of high-difficulty moves to their fullest extent.

If the Golden Snitch in front was their reason for working so hard, what on earth was that crazy, Bludger in the back?

At that moment, a huge figure came into Aaron's field of vision. Hagrid was nervously watching Harry Potter flying at high speed through his binoculars, with Hermione and Ron standing on his left and right sides.

Aaron immediately pushed through the crowd and stood in front of the three people. "Can someone explain to me what happened?"

"Harry was targeted by the out-of- Loss of Control Bludger; someone must have sabotaged it," Hagrid said angrily.

"I want to stop that Bludger," Ron said, frustrated. "But Hermione won't let me, Harry doesn't seem to be able to either."

"That's right. It would be a miracle if you didn't knock yourself out of the water with that Wand."

Wait, doesn't Madam Hooch care?

Hermione shook her head. "It seems the two teams have reached some kind of agreement, both agreeing to continue the game, and she can't refuse under these circumstances."

Aaron frowned as he watched the Bludger fly away, leaving a trail of afterimages.

Harry Potter seems to be incredibly unlucky; his broom malfunctioned last year, and this year the Bludger is targeting him again.

It seems like every match between Gryffindor and Slytherin involves an unexpected incident. I wonder who's behind this one, but it certainly wasn't Slytherin.

But what surprised him even more was Draco's decision, considering that the score was now 200 to 40, with Slytherin leading Gryffindor by 100 points.

It's fair to say that Draco's mission was already accomplished. Even if he had given up on the Golden Snitch, Slytherin would have won anyway, so there was absolutely no need for him to risk everything.

However, upon seeing Lucius Malfoy also sitting in the referee's box, he immediately understood why Draco was willing to take such a huge risk to fight for the Golden Snitch.

There was no particular reason; it was simply a matter of the son wanting to prove himself to his father, even if he lost.

The match between Slytherin and Gryffindor had already been decided, a fact known to many, so the audience gradually turned their attention to the two Seeker.

Draco's broom is Nimbus 2001, which is slightly faster than Harry's Nimbus 2000, giving him a slight advantage in equipment.

Unfortunately, this advantage was completely negated by the reckless, Bludger that followed.

After a long chase, both of them were exhausted, but neither was willing to admit defeat.

Draco had always wanted to defeat Harry Potter fair and square as the Seeker, and his chance came after Slytherin had secured the victory.

Harry just wanted Gryffindor to lose gracefully; the difference between 200 to 190 and 350 to 400 wasn't significant and wouldn't affect the outcome.

Although it was somewhat frustrating, a narrow defeat was infinitely better than a crushing defeat.

The two continued to speed up in agony, and after creating some distance between themselves and the Bludger, they reached out with their left and right hands and caught the Golden Snitch.

The Bludger flew between the two, Draco was slightly less lucky, getting hit in the left arm and falling off the broom.

Fortunately, they were flying at a relatively low altitude, otherwise, if they had fallen, they would have broken several bones.

Harry was about to get hurt more when the ball hit his right arm, knocking off his brown wristband.

After he dropped his broom, he slid for more than ten meters on the lawn before barely stopping, but he also caught his prize: a Golden Snitch.

"Harry Potter caught the Golden Snitch, earning Gryffindor a score of 150."

But the final score was 200 to 19, Slytherin won.

As Jordan's voice faded, thunderous cheers erupted from the crowd.

However, some people rushed down from the stands to the pitch, since there were still two Seeker lying on the ground.

Aaron flew towards Draco, and the other Slytherin House Team members also flew around him.

"Sorry, we didn't catch the Golden Snitch."

"Not bad," Flint said thoughtfully. "To be honest, I'm disappointed, after all, our Seeker lost."

But this was truly an exception. No one could find fault with your performance; you were just a little unlucky.

The others nodded in agreement. Draco had been outstanding today; if it were them, they would probably have chosen to sit back after the score exceeded 150.

"By the way, where's that swimming ball?" Draco said, perking up. "Gryffindor must have tampered with it."

Upon hearing this, everyone turned their heads to one side and silently rejected the guess.

The ball flew above Harry and then slammed down hard. If he hadn't rolled over in time, his face would probably have been flattened.

"The Incendio."

A fierce burst of flame shot from the tip of Aaron's Wand, shattering the ball into pieces.

"You're welcome. Consider it revenge for you," Aaron said as he approached.

Draco tried to stand up, but as soon as he moved, a sharp pain shot through his left arm, causing him to cry out in pain.

"A fracture?"

"I think so," Draco said with a wry smile. "I clearly heard the sound of my bones cracking when I was knocked down."

"Don't move."

Aaron raised his left arm. "How do you think Harry Potter's situation is compared to yours?"

"Haha! He's definitely better than me..."

Click!

A sharp crack followed by a painful scream.

"It's alright, I've put your bones back in place."

Draco tried shaking his arm; there was no pain from a broken bone, but his arm was still burning.

"You can do this too?"

"Sometimes Muggle methods are more effective than magic," Aaron chuckled, then looked at the Slytherin gathered around him. "You two take him to the Hospital Wing."

Crabbe and Goyle reacted quickly, lifting Draco up on either side and carrying him off the field.

Aaron then looked at another group of people, a group of Gryffindor surrounding Harry. He struggled to squeeze in. "Your arm is broken too?"

"He seems a bit stricter than Draco, do you need any help?"

Harry nodded blankly. He had just seen Aaron twist Draco's arm back, so naturally he wouldn't refuse.

But then Lockhart took out his Wand. "Don't worry, I'll heal your arm right away."

"No, don't." Harry resisted. In the past few days, he had gotten to know this Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher well enough. His most reliable trait was his unreliability.

Entrusting your arm to him is no different than entrusting an operation to a caregiver.

"Let Aaron do it! He's experienced."

"Don't worry, it's a simple spell, I've tried it countless times." Lockhart ignored him and instead rolled up Harry's sleeve. "It won't hurt at all."

Harry wanted to refuse, but Lockhart chanted the incantation, "Brackium Emendo."

A blue light flashed, Harry's eyes widened slightly. His arm did feel less painful, but something still felt off, as if something was missing.

Lockhart confidently raised his arm, eliciting gasps from those around him, and many people turned their faces away in disbelief.

This right arm can no longer be called an arm, because there is no bone inside; it's like a piece of rubber.

"Hiss!" Aaron gasped. He thought Ron's Wand was already outrageous enough, but Lockhart was even more amazing.

"May I ask, Professor, has this spell, which you've tried countless times, ever succeeded?"

"Hmm... don't make such a fuss, sometimes it's like that," Lockhart explained with a forced explanation. "The point is that Harry doesn't feel any pain, and none of his bones are broken."

Aaron:...

"From the bottom of my heart, Azkaban really needs someone like you."

"Really? I also think the criminals there would be afraid of me."

"No, what I mean is that if you perform comedy, it will definitely bring those criminals a long-lost joy."