Clara Diggory, Girl of Secrets - a HP fanfic

Chapter 10 - Quidditch and Colin

Saturday was the day of the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. I'd been struggling to decide whether I should support Gryffindor or Slytherin – I mean, it was my house, and Draco was my friend, now, but the majority of my friends were in Gryffindor, so I ended up talking to Malfoy about it. He'd grudgingly told me that most of Slytherin regarded me as a traitor anyway, so this wasn't going to change much. And, just like that, I was supporting Gryffindor.

I walked down to the quidditch pitch with Ginny, trying to ignore the stares from the other pupils. A couple of times, Ginny tried to move onto the subject of why I was sitting next to Draco and having conversations with him all the time, but I instantly began talking about other things, distracting her – for now. We took our seats next to Ron and Hermione in the stands and waited for the game to start.

As the Gryffindor team walked out onto the pitch, we cheered wildly, trying desperately to drown out Slytherin's boos and hisses. Luckily, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff wanted Slytherin beaten, so they cheered too.

When Madam Hooch blew the whistle, all fourteen players rose to the air, Harry higher than any of them. Malfoy shouted something to him – probably some kind of taunt. I sighed inwardly.

Suddenly, a Bludger came pelting towards Harry, who avoided it so narrowly it wasn't until he was still on his broom ten seconds later that I could be sure he had avoided it.

George whacked the Bludger in the direction of a Slytherin, but it changed direction in mid-air and shot for Harry again; Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George hit it again, this time to Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved around, directed at Harry's head.

Harry zoomed to the other end of the pitch.

“What on earth is up with that Bludger?” I asked. No one answered; we were too engrossed in the situation.

At the other end of the pitch, Fred swung at the Bludger, sending it off course. The four of us, tense in the front row, had just relaxed slightly when it pelted after Harry once more.

It started to rain, and Slytherin's new brooms were paying off; meanwhile, the rogue Bludger was violently trying to knock Harry off of his broom, so Fred and George had to stay directly by his side.

“Someone must have tampered with it,” I said, squinting through the rain to see what was going on. Slytherin were up 60-0, but Gryffindor had called a time out. I could see they were arguing over whether or not to play on. Eventually, they kicked up in the air again, but this time Fred and George weren't by Harry's side. Harry was doing a damn good job of avoiding that Bludger, even if he did look like a bit of an idiot while doing so. I could see Malfoy mocking Harry, and then –

I spotted it. The Golden Snitch was hovering inches above Malfoy's ear. I glanced at Harry and saw he had spotted it too; his eyes were trained on it. Malfoy wasn't spotting it any time soon, by the looks of it.

Harry hung in mid-air, and I was about to yell a warning when –

WHAM.

The Bludger smacked into his arm, and judging by the way Harry wasn't using it and the way it hung limply, it had broken. He stayed on his broom, though, and began to dive for Malfoy.

“What's he doing?” Said Ron.

“Going for the Snitch, can't you see it?” I said.

Ron stared. “You can see the Snitch from here?”

“Yeah,” I said, shrugging.

We were distracted when we saw Harry had caught the Snitch. The crowd around us began to celebrate, but we focused on Harry – who was heading for the ground. Soon after, he hit the mud, and rolled off his broom. The four of us, I, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, headed down to the pitch, as well as most of Gryffindor. Gilderoy Lockhart was there too, insisting he could fix Harry's arm. Harry himself had passed out, and the first thing he said after waking up and sighting Lockhart leaning over him was,