Cyrus's injury was a little more serious than he had imagined. In Madam Pomfrey's exact words:
"This arm is more fragmented than the tea leaves in Divination."
In other words, it was like a packet of dry instant noodles that had been crushed for over ten minutes.
Ginny and Hermione had intended to visit him immediately, but Harry and Ron stopped them. They had no desire to squeeze in among all those Slytherins.
"I think you're worrying too much, Ginny. Remember, it's Malfoy who's hurt, not..." Ron raised his eyebrows.
Ginny understood at once.
Right, what did Malfoy getting hurt have to do with Mr. Riddle?
With that, Ginny and Hermione were no longer in a hurry. It was Malfoy's bad luck, so why should they care? If Mr. Riddle hadn't been controlling his body, they might even have set off fireworks to celebrate!
"But he really was brilliant on that broom. What will you do if Slytherin makes it back into the final?" Ron asked, a little worried.
"Don't worry. He isn't planning to play a second match," Ginny said.
She knew that "Mr. Riddle" only wanted to experience Quidditch, rather than having any real love for it.
Harry felt relieved at first, but a powerful sense of defeat soon followed.
The mere thought of competing against him had already made Harry shrink back. Being utterly crushed in a field he thought he was good at felt awful. Later, they waited until the Slytherin players had left the Hospital Wing before visiting Cyrus, though they soon left.
The next person to visit Cyrus, however, was someone he had never expected.
"Are you all right?" Cho Chang came in carrying some food.
Cyrus glanced at it and saw that it was Pumpkin Pasties.
"I ran into Diggory from Hufflepuff just