Afterward, the three Champions lay side by side, none of them speaking.
There was no awkwardness in the air, only a quiet understanding that had begun to grow after they survived flames and claws together.
Madam Pomfrey bustled between the three beds like a white whirlwind.
With light taps of her wand, she replaced their makeshift dressings.
"Lie still! No moving!"
The bandages tightened themselves and ointment spread evenly, but her complaints never stopped.
"Barbaric! An utterly medieval practice!"
"Throwing a bunch of children to dragons! Are those idiots at the Ministry of Magic's heads stuffed with Flobberworms?"
She poured a spoonful of bitter, invigorating medicine into Krum's mouth.
"The Triwizard Tournament! More like the Triwizard Death Tournament!"
She grumbled indignantly as she changed the ointment on Pheobe's waist, which gave off a cool sensation.
"Dumbledore must have gone mad! And Holmes, too! That dinner of his was practically fuel for the dragons!"
Finally, she came to Cedric's bedside. Looking at his immobilized leg, she sighed with sympathy.
"Poor child. You should have been reading quietly in the library."
That was when Charlie and Douglas came in.
"Oh, no, not you two! Visitors aren't welcome here!"
Madam Pomfrey immediately spread her arms, blocking their path like a lioness protecting her cubs.
"Sorry to interrupt your work, madam."
Charlie carried a medicine chest, an apologetic smile on his face.
"We brought some Romanian specialties: dragonspittle salve and salamander scale powder, specifically for treating injuries like these."
Madam Pomfrey was just about to sternly order them out.
Then she saw Douglas carrying an ordinary-looking food container, a gentle smile on his face.
He handed her an exquisite little bottle.
"Exclusively for Madam Pomfrey-a soothing hair-care potion. A new formula, with unicorn tears added. Guaranteed to give you a good night's sleep and