August | Hermione Granger x OFC

Chapter Eighty-Four

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When Robyn woke up, she was in the hospital wing. It wasn't quite pitch black outside, but it definitely wasn't light. Still, the lanterns in the room hurt her eyes, and her head hurt, and she felt sick, and...she wasn't actually sure what happened. Had she been hit by a Confundus Charm?

No, wait. She'd been hit by a Bludger.

She didn't know for certain who had hit it her way, but she'd bet all her Galleons it was Gunnar. Bloody Gunnar.

As well as being in pain, she was also now annoyed – this had been her chance to redeem herself after losing Ravenclaw fifty House points. Instead, she'd only played the match for, like, fifteen minutes before being taken off. She would probably still be in Ravenclaw's bad books. Great.

She involuntarily whimpered at both the pain and the realisation which alerted the people by her bedside – her siblings. They were always there when she woke up.

"Robyn!" said Dylan, a bit too loudly for Robyn's liking. "I'll get Madam Pomfrey!"

She shut her eyes and listened to Dylan's quickly retreating footsteps. Meanwhile, Lloyd sighed audibly.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so...is she okay?"

She could almost hear his frown. "Who?"

"My Firebolt."

"Oh," he laughed, "oh, yeah. That Willow girl caught it – her? – before it hit the ground."

Of course. If Robyn could count on Willow for anything, it was being just as obsessed with the Firebolt as she herself was.

"Good. Who won?"

He sighed again, "You did."

"Good. Who hit me with the Bludger?"

"Gunnar. Dylan's raging."

"Good."

"Robyn," greeted Madam Pomfrey. Robyn opened her eyes again to see the matron approaching, Dylan in tow. "I was due a visit from you, wasn't I?"

"Think you were, yeah," Robyn agreed, smiling politely at the woman.

She was given several potions to drink, which she did willingly. The taste wasn't good, but the effects were as her headache receded and her fuzzy mind cleared. Still, she was going to be held overnight, just in case.

"I can't believe that prat!" Dylan started angrily once Pomfrey left. "You didn't even have the Quaffle! You weren't even near it!"

"I know," Robyn agreed again. "I mean, I think...I don't really remember."

"She's right," Lloyd nodded. "You were nowhere near it. He's a prat."

"Are you only just realising that?" Robyn wondered genuinely. Lloyd had never really revealed whether he liked Dylan's betrothal partner or not.

He shrugged.

Well...good enough.

"Oh, Robby, I'm so sorry," Dylan continued, smoothing her hand over Robyn's head as gently as possible, "that stupid boy...I'm telling you now, I'll make him regret it."

"It's okay," Robyn whispered, shutting her eyes once more.

"Tired?"

"A bit."

"It's almost curfew," Lloyd commented.

Dylan sighed, "And I have Prefect duty."

"Mad Saturday night for you," Robyn said lightly.