LANCASTER / H. POTTER

FIFTEEN

Harry had won the match. 

They were both completely graceless as Seekers apparently, but both harbored enough luck to win the game. At least, that is what Madam Pomfrey told Copeland in between bouts of Dittany and the standard preventative doses of Moly root, in case any spell or enchantment had catalyzed her untimely plummet to the Earth. In her brief moments of waking between respite, Copeland's body ached irreparably. She had never considered the most pain would come from her hands, which she had shot out in front of her in a futile attempt to break her fall. Her fingers felt brittle, as if they might shatter upon movement. Inflamed, angry wounds caressed her palms, soothed and sealed by Madam Pomfrey's expert magic. Copeland could not help but envision tiny particles of dirt and grass embedded in her wounds, skin sealing them inside. The thoughts plagued her dreams, driving her mad. 

Madam Pomfrey's strict no visitor policy did not help the slow unraveling of Copeland's mind. The mediwizard promised the young girl that she could have visitors once she could manage to stay awake for an hour. She had yet to complete the task until her third day in the infirmary. That day, she had received a letter from her mother. Her embarrassment felt more present than ever knowing her mother knew about her fumble. Her mother was a great Seeker in her day, so was her father. Copeland couldn't imagine how disappointed they both were with her. 

She felt like a failure in more ways than one. She had made no leeway in her mission, had chosen no help, had nearly lost the game for the Gryffindors. If she knew waking would mean being bombarded by these thoughts, she would have stayed asleep until Madam Pomfrey turned her out. With trembling, sore hands she opened the letter, giving Thatch a tentative head rub as she read.

My dearest,

I heard what happened at your first game. I do hope you are alright. I sent some chocolate frogs with Thatch, but Madam Pomfrey despises sweets. Says they are the bane of health. I wouldn't be surprised if she confiscated them from you until you are better.  Quidditch is not a sport for the faint of heart, which you clearly aren't but nevertheless, it takes some getting used to to be good. I can imagine your pride is wounded, but don't give up dove. You can't imagine the nasty tumbles I took throughout my career. It happens to everyone. It's just so unfortunate it happened your first game. 

I love you dearly. Dumbledore told me during our last conversation you've been doing exceedingly well in your courses. I'm endlessly proud. Christmas is just around the corner, Peter and I can't wait to see you. We send our love. Write back when you can. 

I love you always!

Mum

Copeland never expected her mother to rebuke her, she could never. But, she was at least expecting disappointment. She was pleasantly surprised to be met with neither. She wished to respond, but knew she wouldn't be able to hold a quill for a while. With a final head pat, she sent Thatch back to the owlery. Madam Pomfrey's light footsteps padded across the infirmary and she drew the curtains. Light flooded into the crack and Copeland winced, her concussed head began to ache from the light exposure. Madam Pomfrey peeked her head inside to look at Copeland.

"You've been awake for an hour now dear, well done," she praised in a soft voice. "Do you feel up to visitors? Your friends have been relentless."

Of course they had. Copeland mustered up a small smile before replying. "Sure."

Madam Pomfrey nodded in response. "Good girl. I'll have to let them in a little at a time. There are an awful lot of people waiting out there."

Of course there were. 

With the aid of Madam Pomfrey, Copeland sat upright in her cot. Not soon after Madam Pomfrey left to retrieve her friends, Copeland heard the pitter-patter of fast approaching footsteps. The loafers Hermione wore produced a very distinct clicking noise that Copeland recognized immediately. With a swoosh of the curtains, Harry, Ron and Hermione entered her little enclosed area. A bright smile broke across Hermione's face.