Seeing so many people gathered around him, Harry clutched his head and slowly sat up in bed, his head aching badly.
When Harry had fallen off the back of the bicycle, his head had slammed hard against a rock. Even now, his forehead was still wrapped in gauze, while one side of his face was covered in bruises and scrapes.
"This is..."
Harry looked around, his gaze finally settling on Ron, who was standing at the foot of the bed and was about his age. Then he turned to Roy beside him and asked uncertainly.
"Where are my uncle and aunt?"
Roy reached out and gently patted Harry on the shoulder. The moment his hand touched Harry's shoulder, the battered boy immediately cried out in pain.
"Sorry, sorry. Time for some strong medicine."
Roy apologized repeatedly, pulled out his wand, and sent a green light straight at Harry's injury-covered body.
As the green spell, brimming with life, sank into Harry's body, Harry immediately found that his waist no longer hurt, his legs no longer ached, and even his groggy head became much clearer.
Harry stared in shock at the little wooden stick in Roy's hand, wondering how such an ordinary-looking stick could cast such a miraculous spell.
"Ahem—as you can see, Harry, I'm actually a wizard. This is my wand. By using it, I can cast some magic."
"Lay Smoke Screen."
With a light flick of Roy's wand, thick smoke immediately poured from its tip. The smoke screen slowly sank, flowing across the floor like water from a faucet. Before long, the entire room was filled with a sea of smoke reaching waist height.
Seeing Harry too shocked to speak, Roy smiled faintly and handed his wand to him.
"You're a wizard too, Harry. Not just you—your father and mother