HARRY POTTER X READER one-shots [COMPLETE]

Different (Harry)

Guide:

(Y/N): Your Name

(Y/L/N): Your Last Name

A request from Emily7456, thank you! In this one, you're in Slytherin...and I really don't know which story this would follow, so let's just make it a random episode or something since Harry doesn't get injured in Quidditch much unless there are Dementors on the pitch, or McLaggen hit him with a Bludger. But of course, YOU'RE not McLaggen, right? So...yeah...

"And Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle again, ooh she is SUCH a tough one there, such a beauty too--"

"JORDAN!"

You only snickered as you swung your Beater bat menacingly at the opposing team, your green Quidditch robes flapping harshly in the wind. Yes, today was just another match for you and your team against the Gryffindors, and as you heard your Transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall, scold the commentator of the game, Lee Jordan, your head was filled with nothing but winning the match. If you did, it would mean immediate access to the finals against Hufflepuff, who already won their match against Ravenclaw a while back.

"Sorry Professor!" Jordan cried, pulling his scarf close to him. "Sorry! Okay, and then Johnson passes it to Spinnet--ooh, hard hit from Montague! Now it's Montague with the Quaffle, passing it to Flint, who passes it back to Montague, and they are heading to the Gryffindor goalposts--come on, Wood, SAVE!"

The Slytherin side cheered, however, as Wood failed to save the Quaffle this time that Montague threw, earning your house 10 points. You grinned as another Bludger came your way, hitting it hard with your bat at one of the Gryffindor players you didn't recognize--a younger student with black hair and glasses. Instantly, as soon as the Bludger made contact with his head, he immediately went down, falling off his broomstick and landing hard on the pitch on his back.

"OY! (Y/L/N)! YOU PRAT!" you heard one of the Gryffindor Beaters--one of the Weasley twins, you figured--shout at you.

The whistle was blown, and the Gryffindors were given a penalty shot, while some of the other professors picked up the younger player on the ground and took him away. For the first time in your Quidditch career, a pang immediately hit you hard in the chest--a pang of guilt that made you tune out of the game completely. Maybe you were playing by the rules, but you never expected to hit someone and send them to the hospital wing completely unconscious.

Time seemed to pass so quickly you were confused as the Slytherins started to cheer for your team at the end of the game, with Malfoy holding up the Snitch in glee and in triumph.

"YEAH!! TAKE THAT POTTER!" Malfoy cried. "Oh yeah, that's right! He's not even here anymore!"

Potter? He didn't mean...the Harry Potter, didn't he?

"Shit," you murmured, immediately descending from the sky, avoiding the rest of the team as you flew away, jumping off your broom the moment you got to the castle and ran all the way to the hospital wing, your heart pumping with adrenaline. You didn't care if the Gryffindor team hated you now for hitting their Seeker hard on the head, and you didn't care if the Slytherin team found you missing as they all went down to the dungeons to celebrate their victory and their impending final against Hufflepuff. No. That doesn't matter anyone. Never have you injured anyone to that state before, and it scared you.

Eventually, after a while, you managed to get to the hospital wing, panting.

"Ahh. A Slytherin Quidditch player," Madam Pomfrey said with such indifference, it made your heart freeze with guilt. She only clucked her tongue and approached you with such a brisk pace you didn't even have time to think about what you were going to say when she suddenly said, "Well, you don't look injured. Can I help you with something?"