"To heal you, of course, silly boy."
Lockhart beamed, repeatedly nodding to the Gryffindor players gathering around him, whether or not they were looking at him:
"Don't worry, children. Your brave and fearless Seeker will be back on his feet in another second, full of life and bouncing around, ready to play another match, even. All I need is one little spell."
As he spoke, Lockhart drew his wand.
"Wouldn't it be better if we took Harry to the Hospital Wing?" Oliver Wood hesitated, wanting to stop him but feeling it would be inappropriate.
Although the man's performance in class had already convinced Oliver that he was useless, he was still a professor, after all.
"No need, no need. Why go to all that trouble?" Oliver looked full of confidence, his wand already pointed at Harry's arm.
"No, no, leave it as it is. I think it's fine like this." Harry's face had turned pale. "It's fine the way it is. Leave it alone. Thank you, I..."
Harry struggled to get up, but his whole body hurt, making him suspect that his arm wasn't the only place where he had broken bones.
A familiar click sounded beside him: the sound of a camera shutter.
"Colin Creevey, if you dare develop that photograph, I'll shove your head down a toilet in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom!"
Harry had, of course, heard the shutter and panicked even more. Instinctively, he threatened Colin with a bullying tactic he had once heard Dudley mention.
Sure enough, the shutter didn't click again.
However, while Harry could frighten Colin Creevey, he couldn't frighten Lockhart.
Lockhart turned a deaf ear to Harry's pleas not to touch his arm:
"Look, Harry's talking nonsense already. But never mind, he'll be all better in a moment. All it takes is one little