"Come on, let's hurry to the hospital wing and check on Harry," Ron urged.
Hermione yanked Oren, who was sprawled in his chair playing dead, to his feet and ran with Ron toward the hospital wing. The Gryffindor team members had just come out.
Fred: "Harry's awake now."
George: "His arm's broken, but it's not a big deal. He just needs to stay in the hospital wing for one night."
Ron: "Go in and see Harry. I'm going to look for his broomstick."
"Then we should go find Wood too," Fred said with a shrug. "He lost the match. His heart's probably dead by now."
"Let's go," George urged. "We need to talk Wood down before he really gets drowned by the rain."
"Cold, cold icy rain slapping wildly against my face?" Oren hummed without thinking.
The twins, who had not gone far, turned around and said, "That's a very fitting description." ×2
The three of them...
After the Quidditch players left, Oren and the others entered the hospital wing as well.
Harry leaned against the bed with vacant eyes. "We lost."
"There was nothing you could do. It wasn't your fault," Oren said, slipping the potion bottle in his hand back into his pocket. "Who could have expected Dementors to interfere?"
"Still, don't worry. Headmaster Dumbledore will definitely get revenge for you."
Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. He had noticed Oren's little movement. If he had woken up any later, he would have gotten the full service and become Harley.
Hermione said, "Oren, can't you modify that bracelet? Madam Pomfrey said Harry's arm was torn apart by it."
Harry nodded. He vaguely remembered the feeling of his arm being torn apart. It hurt. It hurt so much!
"No need to change it. It's already perfect, okay?" Oren explained. "Harry