Chapter 227: The Cunning Dumbledore
Kyle arrived at the Hospital Wing as quickly as he could after commanding the Basilisk back to sleep.
Harry was lying peacefully asleep in one of the beds, while Dumbledore stood nearby, speaking with Madam Pomfrey, who looked distinctly displeased.
"Last year it was a Dark wizard, and this year it's the Death Eaters," she said, casting a sidelong look at Dumbledore. "So, what will our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor be next year... Dark Lord himself? I wouldn't be surprised at all if that were the case."
Dumbledore merely smiled, offering no rebuttal or defense. Whether it was Oren or Quirrell, he was indeed responsible for their appointments, and he bore much of the responsibility.
Just then, Kyle stepped into the room.
"Oh, just in time, Kyle! We were just talking about you..." Dumbledore said, quickly ending his conversation with Madam Pomfrey as he moved toward Kyle, only to be promptly nudged aside by her.
"You need to be checked in immediately!" she said, glaring at Kyle, her expression so severe that she seemed more intimidating than Voldemort himself.
Kyle shot a pleading look at Dumbledore, hoping he might intervene, but the headmaster had suddenly developed a deep fascination with a potion bottle on the table and seemed oblivious to Kyle's silent appeal.
Madam Pomfrey didn't dwell on her irritation, though. "All right, stand still!" She waved her wand twice in front of Kyle, and a soft white light glowed at its tip, eventually forming a cloud-like mist that wrapped around him.