After dinner, Scott went to the Hospital Wing alone.
As soon as he stepped inside, Madam Pomfrey stopped him.
"Mr. Trollope."
She looked him up and down. "Is something the matter? Are you feeling unwell?"
Scott smiled politely. "Good evening, Madam Pomfrey. I came to see Potter."
"Potter?"
Madam Pomfrey frowned, displeased. "That boy needs rest. He has thirty-three bones to grow back! Those Gryffindor Quidditch players made a racket in here for ages, but I sent them away!"
"Is he asleep?"
Scott leaned over to peek inside.
"He's asleep!" Madam Pomfrey said firmly, waving Scott away.
At that moment, Potter's voice came from the inner room. "I'm not asleep! Let him in, please!"
"You need to rest, dear!" Madam Pomfrey said sternly, turning around.
"Just for a little while," Potter pleaded. "I can't sleep. My arm hurts like it's being cut with a knife!"
Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. After glancing at Scott, she nodded. "All right, if it's you, Mr. Trollope. Remember, you may only talk quietly."
"Of course. Thank you."
Scott nodded quickly.
Madam Pomfrey finally stepped aside.
"Remember," she added, "you can stay for fifteen minutes at most!"
"All right."
Scott smiled and walked into the ward.
"I'm over here."
Potter's voice came from behind a privacy curtain around one of the beds.
Scott went over and pulled it open.
"Hey, how are you?"
He dragged over a stool and sat beside the bed, looking at Potter, who lay motionless under the covers.
"I'm all right."
Potter picked up his glasses with his good hand and put them on.
"I didn't expect you to come see me," he said, his tone neither warm nor cold.
"Eddie made it sound pretty bad." Scott shrugged. "He said half your body had turned into a rubber hose."
Potter's eyes