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If Oliver knew how humble I feel, he'd be dragging me by the hair to the hospital wing

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If Oliver knew how humble I feel, he'd be dragging me by the hair to the hospital wing. I've been trying not to put too much strain on my arm for the past three weeks, but it's definitely not healed yet. The pain comes in waves, sometimes it's so bad at night that I can't close my eyes. Especially if I use my arm or even tense a muscle, I want to drop dead. I didn't even tell Fred and George that. They would feel even worse and most of all they would run to Oliver and snitch everything. Accordingly, with clenched teeth, I pull on my Quidditch robes and make no sound. Today is the last game, the decisive final. And we're going to take that trophy and I'm going to give my all and my shoulder is the last thing on my mind. When the game is over I can fully recover, but definitely no weakness is shown before then. "Today everything will be decided," says Wood now and everyone hangs spellbound on his every word. "This is our last game together and I thank you all for your commitment and solidarity. Give it your all today and maybe we can bring the trophy home. Always remember what we have been discussing for the last few weeks: exploit the weaknesses of the Slytherins and turn them to our advantage!" Battle cries ring out and we line up to go onto the field. "I want a clean, fair last game, get that?" says Madam Hooch as she kicks off the game.Within minutes I figured out what the Slytherins were doing wrong. They are so keen on being sneaky and mean that they create huge gaps as all players surround one another. This makes it easier to get past them. And their captain and hunter, Montague, is a clumsy, clumsy fellow. He's probably strong, but Oliver is way faster than him and I'm better than Montague. The Slytherin keeper isn't quite as dimwitted as Montague, but he's not exactly good either.This is confirmed as the game progresses as he doesn't stop the Quaffle once when I smash it through the hoops. Accordingly, after a short time we are already leading the way. I have cold sweat on my forehead and I feel kind of feverish, I keep gritting my teeth when the pain in my shoulder gets too bad. It would be wiser if I sat on the bench now and didn't do anything else, but that's not an option. Not now, not today. Not in the last five minutes of the game. Now, if the Slytherin Seeker catches the Snitch, it'll be a close call, so I've got at least one more goal to score. At least one. I take a shaky breath, ignoring the pain and the blurry edges in my field of vision, and chase after the Quaffle. I grab the orb, which is very heavy for my right arm, and dash towards the Slytherins' rings. I can't see too much anymore, it's getting dark behind my eyes, but I don't care. Just a little more, just one more throw, one goal. I can't fail now.Everything blurs before my eyes, but I can't be weak now. One more point and we win the damn trophy even if Harry doesn't catch the snitch. One point and victory is assured. Gathering my last strength, I hurl the Quaffle toward the enemy hoops and hit. Victory jubilation breaks out and I still look at Oliver, who is already on the way to me, his face shines brighter than the sun. His dream just came true. He has waited seven years to win the trophy. He fought and trained and gave it his all and now he's finally done it. We all made it together. I laugh happily. Now my last bit of strength is finally escaping me, I allow myself to finally let go. Then my whole body becomes heavy and I can no longer stay on the broom. I'm falling again Oh, this is going to cause trouble with Oliver, but I just don't have the strength to hold on or fly to the ground.Suddenly I'm caught, just when I think I'm about to hit the ground. This incredible scent fills my nostrils and I have to smile half faint. "Oliver," I murmur, enchanted. "What's wrong with you?" he asks me worriedly, holding me with one arm as he brings us safely to the ground. "You're glowing, Y/n! What's happening? You've overworked yourself, haven't you?" I shrug weakly. "We won, Oliver." I just say, smiling and looking up at him. "We have the trophy."He smiles too. "I'll be happy if you're well again." "Be happy now," I whisper with a weak smile, letting my head rest against his chest wearily. I feel him swing off his broom, pick me up in his arms and run across the field with me. "We need Madam Pomfrey! She overworked herself, has a fever and is almost unconscious!" "You're overreacting like always, Wood." I laugh softly and close my eyes. With him I'm definitely sure he'll take care of me. "You're not drifting away now!" Oliver snaps and slaps me on the cheek. "You stay awake!" "Don't be annoying, Captain.", I mumble with a smile and snuggle my cheek against his shoulder.

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