The Malfoy boy and the Potter girl

Dobby and Broken Arms

When I came around, rain was falling on my face, and I was still lying on the field, with someone leaning over me. I saw a glitter of teeth, and knew exactly who it was.

"Oh, no, not you," I moaned.

"Doesn't know what she's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors and Slytherins pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your sisters arm."

"No!" I exclimed. "I'll keep it like this, thanks..."

I tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. I heard a familiar clicking noise nearby.

"I don't want a photo of this, Colin," I said loudly.

"Lie back, Skylar," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times—"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" I said through clenched teeth.

"She should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Sky, really spectacular, I'd say—"

Through the thicket of legs around me, I spotted Fred and George Weasley, wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight.

"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No—don't—" I croked weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at my arm.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at my shoulder and spread all the way down to my fingertips. I didn't dare look at what was happening. I had shut my eyes, my face turned away from my arm, but my worst fears were realized as the people above me gasped and Colin Creevey began clicking away madly. My arm didn't hurt anymore—nor did it feel remotely like an arm.

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Skylar, just toddle up to the hospital wing—ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger and Harry, would you escort her?—and Madam Pomfrey will be able to—er—tidy you up a bit."

As Harry got to his feet to help me up and I stood, I felt strangely lopsided. Taking a deep breath I looked down at his right side. What I saw nearly made me pass out again.

Poking out of the end of my robes was what looked like a thick, fleshcolored rubber glove. I tried to move my fingers. Nothing happened.

Lockhart hadn't mended my bones. He had removed them.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm. "I can mend bones in a second—but growing them back—"

"You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing me a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to stay the night..."

Harry and Ron waited outside the curtain drawn around my bed while Hermione helped me into my pajamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve.

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called through the curtain as she pulled my limp fingers through the cuff. "If Skylar had wanted de-boning, she  would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Skylar?"

"No," I said, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else either."