Bryan, who had become famous in the wizarding world, was busy dealing with the constant stream of invitations to parties and discussions. Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were not having a good time at school.
Although the three of them claimed to be fully recovered, Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping them in the hospital wing for observation. She forced them to drink strange potions and examined their pupils for any unsettling changes.
Finally, a week after the werewolf incident, when the weekend arrived, Harry couldn't take it anymore.
"I swear, Madam Pomfrey, none of us were bitten by a werewolf!"
"You can't be sure of that!"
Madam Pomfrey swiftly grabbed Harry's eyelid, shining her wand's light into his emerald eyes, speaking with evident displeasure,
"You probably don't realize the extent of the injuries you had when you were brought back. True, no bite marks were found, but studies have shown that werewolf claws can also cause pathological mutations. If we can't completely rule out this possibility before sending you back, imagine the havoc you could wreak in the common room or classrooms."
The thought of this possibility made Madam Pomfrey shudder. She released Harry's eyelid and grabbed Hermione, who was trying to avoid her, to examine her eyes as well.
"But-" Harry began, his protest hanging in the air, unfinished.
Ron, who was waiting for his turn, pointed out sharply,
"Sna- Professor Snape and Hagrid have already gone back, haven't they? I mean, they were also injured, so why are you willing to let them go but keep us here?"
"Oh, you must understand, Mr. Weasley-"
Madam Pomfrey, while carelessly flipping Hermione's other eyelid, said, "Professor Snape is proficient in potions, and those skilled in potions often have a knack for healing. He's capable of determining any adverse changes in his condition. And Hagrid, yes, he was indeed the unfortunate victim of a werewolf's bite, but Dumbledore has assured us that his unique bloodline bestows upon him a formidable resistance to that dreadful virus.."
"Unique bloodline?" Harry echoed, his curiosity piqued as he paused from rubbing his eyes, fixing Madam Pomfrey with an inquisitive stare while she examined Ron.
"Does Hagrid possess some sort of special lineage?"
"Please don't disturb me while I'm working, Mr. Potter."
Madam Pomfrey said in a frustrated tone. Perhaps she was a little annoyed by Ron's questioning, so she treated him roughly, causing Ron to gasp in pain.
"But, Madam Pomfrey—"
Hermione, with red-rimmed eyes, pleaded pitifully, "We've already missed an entire week's worth of lessons. Surely Professor McGonagall wouldn't wish to see us fail every subject during the final exams."
They were ultimately unable to convince Madam Pomfrey to let them leave, but she agreed to consult with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall during lunchtime.
To prevent any potential danger from the three of them, Madam Pomfrey assigned them separate ward rooms and strictly forbade them from meeting other students. Even among themselves, they were only allowed to gather during examinations.
However, these rules were rendered useless due to the presence of Harry's invisibility cloak.
Half an hour later, Harry and Ron reunited in Hermione's ward room. She was studying her course materials on the bedside cabinet, ignoring their arrival.
Harry and Ron didn't mind enjoying a leisurely break in the midst of their urgent coursework, but being confined to the hospital wing for a whole week, cut off from the outside world, felt like being in prison.
"I thought we would be praised–" Ron mused, his gaze fixed upon the cold, unforgiving ceiling with a lifeless expression etched upon his features, "But the school's treatment of heroes is like how wizards treat boggarts, locked in a small, enclosed space?"
Harry was also disheartened. The recent issues of The Daily Prophet had been dominated by Professor Watson's stories about Peter and Sirius, without a single mention of them.
"Objectively speaking-"
Hermione, writing quickly with her quill on parchment, without looking up, said, "We didn't really play a significant role that night, did we?"
"Are you crazy?!"
Ron's cheeks puffed up in shock, and even Harry looked at Hermione in bewilderment, thinking she was delirious from not being able to attend classes.
"Think about it-" Hermione calmly said, "We didn't save Sirius. It was Hagrid, Professor Lupin, Professor Snape, and the centaurs who drove off Greyback. Of course, we caught Peter, but you have to understand that this is something we can't talk about. After all, we didn't go about it the right way. I mean, we used the Time-Turner."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, momentarily unable to refute Hermione's point.
"But—"
After a while, Ron finally came up with a good reason. He frowned and argued,
"Hagrid, Professor Lupin, and Snape, they all entered the Forbidden Forest because of us, didn't they? If we hadn't broken the rules, Sirius would surely have died under Peter's plot."
Harry nodded in agreement, but then he realized that the reason they had run into the Forbidden Forest that night was because they had accidentally discovered Sirius lurking outside the common room. However, when they went back in time using the Time-Turner, according to the Marauder's Map, Sirius should have been lingering on the edge of the Forbidden Forest at that time. In other words, the 'Sirius' who lured them there was likely fake.
Ron, who didn't accompany them on the time travel, didn't understand this detail, but with Hermione's sharp mind, she must have realized that something was amiss.
Hermione sighed but didn't continue speaking. She had been worried about the Time-Turner.
Previously, Professor Watson had taken the damaged Time-Turner from her possession, assuring her that he would attend to the matter, but he had not returned to the school for an entire week.
"What's that?"
Hermione subconsciously glanced under her pillow, and Harry, who was observing her expression, noticed a corner of a magazine sticking out from under the pillow.
The scene felt familiar. Ron, quick as lightning, pulled out the book, blocking an annoyed Hermione with one hand while waving the magazine in the air with the other,
"Witch Weekly, my mum likes to read this—" Ron muttered, and then both Harry and Ron's mouths twitched when they noticed the handsome, smiling wizard on the cover,
"So, it seems—"
Ron wanted to laugh but didn't dare, because Hermione was glaring at him furiously, as if she wanted to devour him and Harry alive.
"Professor Watson has inherited the mantle of that charlatan Lockhart, and you've transferred your adoration from Lockhart to Professor Watson?"
"That's none of your business, Ron!" Hermione shouted angrily, snatching the magazine back from Ron's hand, and for some reason, she felt compelled to explain, "Professor Watson's knowledge is genuine!"
Ron shrugged, "Why do you have to be so secretive? Last night, when Harry and I sneaked out, several Ravenclaw girls were loudly discussing in the corridor whether Professor Watson had a girlfriend. If you ask me, that's just silly. Professor Watson wouldn't be interested in a little witch with a face full of pimples."
Bang— Harry didn't know which hornet's nest Ron had poked, but Hermione was clearly even more enraged, her amber eyes shining with a frightening light. Realizing the danger, Ron and Harry hastily retreated, tripping over each other and tumbling to the floor.
"Potter, Weasley, what are you up to?"
The door to the hospital wing suddenly burst open, revealing the stern face of Professor McGonagall, her lips pursed in disapproval and her gaze sharp as she surveyed the scene before her.
"Madam Pomfrey told me that in order to prevent any of you three from encountering misfortune, she arranged for you to be in different ward rooms and did not allow you to visit each other when she was not watching. But obviously, you didn't take her words seriously."
Professor McGonagall stared sternly at Harry and Ron, who were scrambling to get up, and said sharply.
Other than acknowledging their own bad luck, Harry and Ron had nothing to say.
"Oh - Professor McGonagall -" Hermione stammered, "They both came to consult me about the lessons -"
She raised the parchment on the bedside table, which was filled with two-thirds full of writing, her hand trembling slightly,
"You know, we haven't had classes for a week, and we're all worried about falling behind, so when we don't need to do physical examinations, we discuss together-- I mean, pre-study the new courses -"
It turned out that when excellent students lied, they were more believable than poor-performing students. Harry could be sure that if he or Ron had said the same thing, Professor McGonagall's expression would not have softened.
"Alright--"
Professor McGonagall's shoulders relaxed slightly, and she stared at Harry and Ron, mistaking the fear of being caught lying to Hermione on their faces as concern about falling behind in their studies,
"During breakfast, Poppy left early to not delay the examinations for you three, so she didn't hear the headmaster's instructions. Albus believes--"
Seeing the three young wizards' eyes light up, her stern expression completely melted away, and she smiled and said,
"He believes that a week of isolation should be enough to show everyone that you three are safe, and it's time for you to return to Gryffindor."
Harry knew he should be more reserved, as Hermione thought, the only credit they had that night was capturing Peter Pettigrew, but that was something that couldn't be mentioned. In the eyes of the professors, they undoubtedly caused trouble again by breaking the rules.
But Harry couldn't help but grin.
He had spent the night in the hospital wing before, but never for such a long time and so difficult. He missed the four-poster beds in the dormitory, his roommates, and even the Bludgers in Quidditch. He even vowed that if he could leave the hospital wing and return to Gryffindor, he would be willing to attend eight Potions classes with Snape in a week.
Or Professor Trelawney's Divination class would be fine too, preferably Divination, because now Harry finally figured out the origin of the big dog he saw on Magnolia Crescent. He no longer had to fear that the nervous Divination professor would cast any "malicious" "curses" on him.
"Of course, I personally think it would be more appropriate for you to leave tomorrow morning--"
The following sentence from Professor McGonagall made the three young wizards' joy immediately diminish by half.
"And one more thing, Miss Granger—"
Professor McGonagall glanced at the latest issue of The Witch Weekly on the bed, not minding how they got the magazine during their isolation, "This morning, I received a letter from Bryan, who told me about the damage to your Time-Turner—"
Mentioning this, Professor McGonagall became angry again. She was ready to scold Hermione for not reporting the damage to the Time-Turner immediately after it happened, but seeing Hermione nervously clenching her fists and the worry in Potter and Weasley's eyes, she couldn't bear to be harsh and sighed softly before saying solemnly,
"Bryan told me that he did some work in the department, and the Ministry of Magic has decided not to pursue the matter of the damaged Time-Turner, but they need you to write an explanation of how the Turner was damaged by Greyback. This explanation needs to be signed by both me and Bryan, and then he will submit it to the Ministry."
"Is it that simple?"
Ron, who had been forcibly enlightened by Hermione with a bunch of cases of wizards punished for losing Time-Turners, asked subconsciously,
"There's no need to be fined a large sum of Galleons and then spend a few months in Azkaban."
"Normally, that would be the case—"
Professor McGonagall frowned and glared at Ron, saying,
"But obviously, Bryan has made some- Ahem! my point is, Greyback damaged the Time-Turner while trying to kidnap you in the Forbidden Forest, right? This reason is sufficient, and the Ministry will consider accidental circumstances."
The Time-Turner was not damaged by Greyback, but mysteriously broke after a time travel. Professor Watson also knew about this.
Ron pursed his lips and didn't say anything.
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