Ron looked back.
'I seem to have missed,' Ron said.
'Well,' said Draco, kindly, 'it was a very good try.'
'Mmm,' said Ron thoughtfully, and scratched his ear. 'Could I maybe try one more-'
'No.'
'Just for a-'
'No.'
'I saved your life,' pointed out Ron, for what Draco suspected would not be the last time.
'And then you threw a knife at me! What's wrong with you, Weasley?'
But Ron seemed hardly to hear him. 'Malfoy?'
'What?'
'Is there really a Malfoy Family Code of Conduct Rule #613 that says I get one try at you with that knife, or was that just for my benefit?'
Draco looked back at him. And grinned. 'Come to think of it,' he said, 'Rule #613 actually states that members of the Malfoy family who have artificial limbs should not attempt sexual intercourse in the moat. Whoops.'
Ron shook his head. 'I had a feeling.'
Draco, busying himself with rebuttoning his pajamas, was startled when he looked up and saw that Ron was looking at him curiously.
Ron paused, took a breath, and said: 'Hey. Malfoy.'
'What?'
'Do you play chess?'
'No.'
'Do you want to learn?'
'I'm really not sure I can help you, Mr. Black.' Dr Branford glanced into the darkened cell, then back at Sirius. 'Or your dog,' he added, nervously.
'He's not a dog.'
'No, I suppose he's more of a wolf, isn't he? A very large, vicious-looking wolf.'
'He's unconscious.'
'Isn't that fortunate. Look, I'm not exactly sure I understand why you summoned me here.'
'My friend John Walton at St Mungo's told me you were the best for treating Dark Arts ailments.'
'Yes,' agreed the doctor. 'I'm the best for treating Dark Arts ailments. In people. Not in animals.'
Sirius gritted his teeth. 'He is not an animal. He's a werewolf.'
'He can't be a werewolf,' said Dr Branford, with admirable dignity considering that Sirius was glaring at him with a quelling ferocity.
'It's daytime.'
'I know that. That's why I called you here. He should have changed back, but he hasn't.'
'I'm not a vet, Mr. Black. I'm a mediwizard. Wouldn't an Auror-'
'As for Aurors, I'm an Auror, and I can tell you right now the Aurors College won't be able to help with this. All they'll want to do is bring him to their labs to be studied.'
'Just because he's a werewolf?'
'Because it's the middle of the day and he's still a wolf. Because he's suffering from something I've never seen before.'
'I told you,' said the sharp voice of the demon from the other cell, 'he is being Called. When he awakens, then you will hear such howling as you have never heard. He will tear his way through the bars trying to get out, trying to get to his Master.'
Sirius regarded its gloating little face with loathing, noting with satisfaction that its head seemed somewhat flattened where Harry had dropped the wardrobe on it. 'I told you to shut up, demon,' he began, and broke off, seeing by the expression on little Dr.
Branford's face that the good doctor had formed the opinion that Sirius was none too stable. The fact that he had a demon and a werewolf locked in his cellar doubtless contributed, along with the fact that Sirius, who had barely had time to shave or comb his hair in the past two days, was beginning to look a lot like his post-Azkaban Wanted poster.
Sirius turned back to him with a sigh. 'Look…he's not an animal. If he was, I would have called a veterinarian. Could you just…look at him?'
The doctor sighed. Then, with an anxious grimace, he knelt down on the wet floor of the dungeon and poked his wand through the bars, touching the tip of it to the werewolf's fur. When he drew the wand back, it was emitting an uneven beam of spinning violet light. 'Well, it seems to be true that he's human,' said the doctor, standing up and turning the wand over in his hand, examining the light beam.
'And he's been hit with quite a strong Stunning charm. Magid strength, I'd say. If you don't wake him, he'll be out like a light for at least a day.'
