Chapitre 38: Chapter 38
"I'm sorry, what about the Constitution?" Pomfrey asked.
"Poison," Milo managed.
"You've poisoned the Constitution?" Pomfrey asked. "Isn't it, you know, a sheet of parchment?"
"Neville!" Milo sputtered. He really needed to catch his breath; he felt like he was going to faint.
"You mean to suggest that Neville poisoned the Constitution?"
Milo groaned. Why did this keep happening to him?
"Neville's... been... poisoned!"
"Oh, my lord! Why didn't you say so at once? Quick, get him on the cot!" The stern mediwitch grabbed her wand immediately and started casting what Milo presumed where diagnostic divinations.
"We were just in the Great Hall," Milo said. "He was having breakfast, then I turned around and found him face down in some pie. So I rushed him here as fast as I could."
"And the food made him float, did it? Most unusual..." Pomfrey said.
"What? No, I Levitated him," Milo said.
"Oh? Impressive. Now get out, so I can try and save his life without distractions. He'll probably wind up in St. Mungo's again... poor boy."
"Right," Milo said, and bolted from the room. He had to make it to the Dungeons in... negative twelve minutes. Ah, Hells.
He eventually stumbled into the Potions class twenty minutes late, still covered in cream and bits of pie crust, drenched in sweat, and gasping for air.
"You're late," Snape said shortly, "by twenty-one minutes. Twenty-one points from Gryffindor, and detention this evening immediately after your Defence Class."
"But... Peeves..." Milo started to say, but immediately knew it was the wrong choice of words. Peeves hadn't been an acceptable excuse for tardiness for years. Snape just shook his head silently, then went back to berating Harry for his latest minor mistake.
Milo groaned. He hadn't been awake for an hour and he'd already lost twenty-one House Points and two of his very limited number of spells per day. And now he'd have to suffer the humiliation of utterly failing to make a potion again. Well, there's nothing else to do, he thought, than follow the directions on the chalk board and hope for the best. Sigh.
Malfoy gave him a smug look.
"Hey, Ron," Milo whispered, "where was everyone during breakfast?"
"Well, most of the Gryffindors were too busy caught up talking about the Cannons' latest victory to bother eating, and I imagine it was more-or-less the same with the other Houses."
"But Hermione loathes Quidditch, why didn't she come down?"
"I can't say for sure," Ron said slyly, "but I think she was enjoying making snide remarks too much to leave."
"And Neville? He was there."
"Dunno, mate," Ron admitted.
"Nev was rushed to St. Mungo's yesterday," Harry supplied, "after one of Fred and George's pranks got out of hand. I guess he only just got back. Where is he, anyway?"
"Poisoned," Milo said simply.
"No talking!" Snape snapped. "Five points from each of you."
Hermione groaned. Gryffindor was rapidly approaching zero points, and it was largely their fault.
The rest of Potions was uneventful, with the exception that Snape seemed incredibly pleased with himself. If he were a normal human, Milo thought, he'd probably be humming to himself. As it stood, he was simply sneering just a little less – not that this made him any more pleasant to be around.
Milo ran his fingers through his hair nervously as he left the Dungeons. Detention after Defence class... well, the class normally ran until three, but Quirrell had said he had something special planned for his Hallowe'en lesson. That should still leave me with plenty of time to make my costume for five, assuming Snape doesn't go overboard.
Milo paused.
My plan relies on Snape's mercy.
Crap.
"We've got half an hour before Transfiguration," Harry said from behind him. "Want to visit Nev?"
"What?" Milo asked distractedly. "Why?"
"Uhm," said Harry. "Because he's our friend? And he's sick?"
"Oh, right, yeah. Friendship. Let's go, then."
o—o—o—o
"Nah, really, it's fine," Neville said, lying on his hospital bed. "Actually, it's a shame it wasn't more severe."
"What? Why?" Harry asked.
"Well, it's just that if I go to St. Mungo's one more time, I get a free ice cream," Neville said. Harry chuckled.
"So, what happened, anyway?" Potter asked.
"Madam Pomfrey says I ingested lethal quantities of arsenic, deadly nightshade, cyanide, chlorine, and ricin this morning," the round-faced boy explained.
Harry gave a low whistle.
"I don't even know what half of those even are," he admitted.
"It's no problem at all," Neville said. "Madam Pomfrey says that as soon as I regain feeling in my limbs, I can go back to class."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone