"And another ten points to Slytherin! They are now sitting on forty points, while Hufflepuff is still stuck on just twenty. Will they be able to pick themselves back up?"
You cursed under your breath.
Slytherin's cheating was still going unnoticed, courtesy of Snape.
You pulled your broomstick back around. Yellow Quidditch uniform flapping in an icy wind. Drizzle blurred your vision.
Where was that bloody golden snitch?
You had to find it before the Slytherin seeker, Draco Malfoy. The otherwise, Hufflepuff was screwed. They might even cut you from the team as you'd been slacking in the last couple of games.
There!
A tiny ball wizzed right past one of your ears.
Suddenly, someone smashed into you, sending you toppling from your broomstick. All you saw was a blur of green before you crash landed heavily in the mud. Pain shot up your left arm and you groaned, which only caused your mouth to fill with murky puddle water.
The crowd gasped in usion.
"After an obvious bit of cheating from Slytherin, Hufflepuff's seeker, L/N, has been injured!" the commentator, Lee Jordan, called. "What will they do without their prize seeker?"
But no way could you let Slytherin win. Your hatred for them had been rekindled; it filled you with a new kind of energy.
Winded, you spat blood and dirt to hopefully show a little of your defiance. Luckily you hadn't been flying as high up as most of the players.
You pressed your hurt arm to your chest and dragged yourself over to where your broomstick lay. A few meters from your landing place.
The Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students in the grand stands roared with encouragement.
As soon as you leapt onto your broomstick it tore-a little shakily-through the drizzle and mist like a bullet. You clung on tightly with your one good hand, trying with all your strength to push the pain to the back of your mind.
"Incredible! L/N is back in the game! Now that shows some determination," yelled the commentator.
Cheers echoed around the pitch once more.
You grinned, cracking your lips, coated with mud. Though it soon contorted to a grimace as your wrist continued to throb.
You found the bleach-blond haired Slytherin seeker and swung in beside him. Squinted through the rain.
The snitch was so close to both of you you could almost smell it.
As you only had one working arm, you would have to lunge for it. And soon. The ground was gaining fast. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Malfoy steal a glance at you. That dick didn't know what the hell he was doing.
But then, you didn't most of the time either. Especially not now.
All of a sudden, he wrenched his broomstick upwards with a jolt. Coward. You saw your chance. You had to do this. For Hufflepuff.
Thrusting yourself forwards off your broomstick, you closed your hand around the snitch. A rush of pride filled your chest.
But it was soon knocked out of you as you face planted into the muddy ground, skidding to a halt on your side. Eyes closed, chest pumping with ragged breaths. Fighting through pain, you forced your hand holding the snitch as high into the air as you could manage.
"Incredible! L/N has caught the snitch! Hufflepuff wins the match!"
Deafening cheers erupted from the stands.
You let your arm drop back to the ground with a thunk. Cracked open your eyes to look at the golden snitch grasped between your index finger and thumb. You smiled with triumph.
You'd done it.
Footsteps. Running. Someone kneeled down close to you.
"What hurts, Missy?" said a cherry voice. Madam Pomfrey.
Dragging yourself up onto an elbow, you said: "I'm-" your voice came out as a croak. You tried again. "I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey." Lies.
"That was two nasty falls," she said through the rain. "You don't have to pretend you're fine. I don't think anyone would be okay after that. At least come and get checked out."
"Honestly, I'm entirely fine," you forced a smile, stumbling to your feet. Luckily you'd always been a good liar.
Standing as well, Madam Pomfrey shook her head, still disbelieving. But all she said was, "If you're so sure, stubborn Miss L/N. Go get yourself cleaned up-though I think the rain has already had a hand in that." //
Why did you reject help?
That would be because you'd always hated a fuss-and the 'weak' name everyone always gave to Hufflepuffs. And of course because you were virtually okay. Save for a fractured wrist-which you fixed most of with a quick healing spell.
Oh, and your face looking like it had been run over by a lawn mower. Twice. But Madam Pomfrey wouldn't have been able to mend that all that well anyway.
You were now in the Great Hall, showered and dressed back in your Hogwarts uniform. Sitting at the end of Hufflepuff table-away from everyone else. You struggled to bandage your right wrist with your left hand.
"Hey, L/N."
You looked up with a fright. So absorbed in your task, you hadn't noticed that someone had sat down across from you. Someone with bleached hair, a Slytherin tie and an arrogant tone.
"Malfoy?" Barely anyone out of Hufflepuff ever spoke to you.
"Thats me. Let me help you with that," he said, softly.
Walking around the table to sit next to you, he reached over and gently took your right hand in his two warm ones. Close. Too close. Inhaling his minty scent, breath hot on your bare neck.
"I'm sorry, by the way," he said finally, breaking the awkward silence. You glanced at him, but he was still preoccupied with the bandage.
"For what?"
"Well, uh, I might've almost killed you just a few hours ago..."
Rage filled your eyes. You had thought it would be him that knocked you off your broomstick the first time, but it still came as a shock.
"But, but," he said, quickly. "I'm truly sorry. Why would you think I'd be here if I wasn't?" You shrugged as he secured the bandage. "Done."
"Thanks." You pulled your hand back, but he made no move to shuffle away from you, so you stayed right where you were.
"I'll see you around, I guess." He paused as he got to his feet. "You're amazing at Quidditch, by the way. No way in hell would I have got back up after that first beat down..." He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Especially if it had been you that had struck me." With that, he turned and sauntered back over to the Slytherin table.
You shook your head, watching him go. What a cocky boy. But you didn't try and stop your cheeks from heating up, or hide the stupid grin plastered on your face.
