┏ ೋღ : 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂. ೋღ ┓

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖊𝖓;
𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔡𝔡𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥

┗━━ ೋღ : ©-fictophilic : ೋღ ━━━┛

"(𝖄/N)," Kyra called out whilst giving your body a slight shake. You felt the palms of her hands on your back in your groggy state and you let out a groan as she shook you again. "(Y/n), wake up. It's time for breakfast."

"Lemme sleep," you mumbled, stuffing your face in your fluffy pillow in an attempt to block out light and noise.

"You'll miss breakfast," Kyra stated and removed her hands from you, taking a step back.

"No, I won't," you reasoned, your voice raspy and tired.

"Yes, you will."

"Just gimme ten more minutes," you reasoned, a groan in your voice adding roughness to your tone. "I'll be there, just save me a seat."

You heard Kyra sigh, or groan — it was a mix of both. "Fine. I'll save you what I can when you fail to show up."

A hum reverberated in your throat while your eyes continued to stay closed. Kyra started to walk towards the door. You heard the click of the doorknob and Kyra spoke, "Remember we have that game against Gryffindor at ten o'clock today. You have about an hour before we're supposed to be in the pitch for warmups. I promised Roger I'd help him get equipment out."

Your hand raised and gave her a lazy and tired thumbs up. With that, Kyra left and you dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

"Well, shit," you mumbled and cursed out, fixing your Quidditch uniform around your shoulders to fit comfortably. Your stomach growled lowly and your strides were quick and long as if you were in a hurry — which you were.

Kyra had stuck to her word, bringing up some food from breakfast, but it wasn't enough to satisfy your growing hunger. She had set it by your bedside and left to help Roger while you slept.

The corridors were loud, crowded, and an overall mess. Students chatted animatedly, excited for the upcoming and most-looked-forward-to event of the day — the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch match.

Kids and teenagers alike rushed through the halls, meeting up with their friends and going to gather their things. Some people were carrying around posters with names and numbers painted on them to show their support.

You turned the corner, avoiding the colliding mass of students, and ended up in front of a painting of a fruit bowl. Tickling the pear, a passageway opened up and you swiftly walked through without a second thought.

Entering the Kitchen, you visibly flinch at the surprise of someone else being there.

"Hey," Seamus waved with a fork in his hand as he stuffed his mouth with waffles.

"Hey," you sighed out, relieved that the surprise someone was at least someone you talked to occasionally. You weren't close enough to Seamus to call him a friend, but after talking to each other through Dean and by sitting next to each other in History of Magic, you had naturally gotten more comfortable around him compared to most other people.

A house-elf hobbled to stand in front of you. Your stomach growled once more and as you took your now calm eyes away from Seamus, you gaze down at the elf. "Is there something I can get for the young miss?" The house-elf inquired kindly.

You nodded, a soft and lop-sided smile displayed on your tired face. "Yeah, just some pancakes please. And maybe some pumpkin juice if it's not too much trouble?"

"Right away." The house-elf turned away and snapped her fingers. A plate of pancakes and a goblet of pumpkin juice, along with some cutlery, flew from the counters and plopped themselves onto the table in front of Seamus.

"Thank you," you told the elf and hurriedly made your way to the table.

Sitting down in front of him, Seamus gazed at you with curious eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be playing in the Quidditch match today?" He inquired, staring down at the Ravenclaw Quidditch uniform you wore before watching your expression intently for a reaction. You nodded and he continued, "Then what are you doing here?"

"Yeah, but I overslept and didn't get enough food in my system," you answered, swiftly cutting your pancakes and shoveling a piece into your mouth. Syrup dripped from the pancake onto your mouth and you instantly reached up to cover the bottom portion of your face. Quickly chewing and swallowing the food, you returned the question while wiping your mouth with a napkin, "What about you?"

"I overslept as well," Seamus responded, digging the side of his fork into his waffle. "I missed breakfast, so I decided to come down here before the game started."

"Ah, makes sense," you hummed, the conversation already dying. Your foot nervously hammered against the stone floor, both out of the stress of the game and the stress of this conversation. Gathering some confidence, you choked out a few more words. "Excited for the game?"

Seamus nodded and smiled brightly, though without his teeth. After swallowing what food was in his mouth, he said, "It's the first game of the season. Who wouldn't be?"

"Me," you chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck.

Tilting his head, Seamus knit his brows together and asked, "How come? You're literally playing. How could you not be?"

"Nervous," you answered shortly and shrugged. "I mean, of course I'm excited, but I'm still more nervous."

"Well, I'd be too if I was playing against Gryffindor," Seamus remarked jokingly in an attempt to fight off that anxious feeling that dwelt in your chest. "They're not exactly easy to beat y'know, but I guess Ravenclaw has a chance." He sighed out dramatically and you knew it was a lighthearted joke on his part.

Scoffing and rolling your eyes, you quipped back, "We are so gonna beat Gryffindor." Glancing at the clock in the corner of the kitchen, you noticed the time was just about when you were supposed to be out on the pitch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go practice my victory dance."

Seamus threw his head back in laughter while you thanked one of the house-elves for taking away your finished meal. He watched you get up, making your way toward the door to lead you back into the corridors.

"I'd wish you luck, but I shouldn't be wishing that for the enemy, now should I?" Seamus joked loudly, watching your retreating figure.

"Now, why would I need that?" You teased, casting him a look over your shoulder as you continued to walk. "Ravenclaws don't need luck when they have skill."

Seamus' amused and boisterous laughter was heard throughout the kitchen as you left. You smiled to yourself, finding yourself more confident and comfortable around Seamus than you previously were.

Though, knowing yourself, you'd just overthink about this moment later.

The rain was coming down heavily, looking like it wasn't going to let up for hours. Dark gray clouds hazed over the Quidditch pitch while brooms zoomed through the air. The raindrops pounded hard against the glass of your Quidditch goggles, blurring your formerly clear vision before immediately sliding off the water-repellent glass.

You flew passed the crowd swiftly, keeping an eye on Kyra as she nestled the quaffle in her arms, guarding it against the two Gryffindor chasers that were on her tail.

Turning your broom to steer toward your friend, you send Kyra a whistle to let her know that you're coming by. Cutting between Kyra and the Gryffindor chasers, you give Kyra some space from them for a short moment. Though the moment was short, Kyra had enough time to send the quaffle your way and you made a break for it, bolting toward the Gryffindor goalposts.

You breathed heavily, avoiding the bludger that shot toward you and the streak of lightning that blasted down from the sky.

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor captain, eyed you with focus and wary. You couldn't find an opening, so you made eye contact with Roger Davies, who flew on the other side of the goal.

You tossed the quaffle up, whipping the back of your broom around to smack the quaffle. The quaffle hurdled through the air, flying straight to Roger, to which he spun and hit the quaffle into the goal swiftly.

The students in the Ravenclaw and Slytherin stands cheered as Lee announced, "Another goal made by Roger Davies with the assistance of (Y/n) (L/n)! Ten points for Ravenclaw!"

With the score of the game burned into your brain to remind you how many points your team had, you made note that Ravenclaw was still ten points behind; 80 — 90.

The sound of the thunder drowned out the crowd's shouts and you could've sworn you saw an umbrella flying away in the ferocious wind.

With Gryffindor's keeper throwing the ball to Angelina Johnson, a few screams pierced through the air after another lightning bolt struck the ground of the pitch.

Kyra kept Angelina marked for guarding, flying right at her tail. You watched Angelina from across the pitch, planning to cut her off when she least expects it.

Your eyes flickered between Angelina's flying figure and your front, making sure you didn't crash into anyone or anything.

Isaac played one of the beaters on your team, the beater's bat in his hand. He swatted at an incoming bludger, sending it in Angelina's direction.

Angelina swerved her broom toward the right, narrowly dodging the bludger. You took your chance, seeing as she was slightly off balance, and you sped up on your broom.

You watched as Angelina straightened herself out and reeled her arm back. She lurched her arm forward, launching the quaffle toward the left ring of the goalpost.

Your hand instinctively reaches out, but the quaffle flies passed the tips of your fingers by a few inches.

Grant Page lunged forward on his broom, reaching to grab the quaffle from the air. He missed by a hair, being a split second too slow.

"A goal made by Angelina Johnson, a very skilled and attractive Gryffindor chaser! Ten points for Gryffindor!" Lee announced, and you could almost imagine the disapproving look from Professor McGonagall about his comment.

Grant picked the quaffle up and tossed it to you. You immediately raced off toward the opposite side of the pitch, where the Gryffindor goalpost was.

Roger and Kyra instantly gathered at your side, watching and guarding you against the opposing chasers who took after you.

Katie Bell came zooming toward your front head-on. You tossed the ball behind your back and over to Kyra, who flew behind you on your left.

Dodging a bludger that shot at her, Kyra ducked her head. The grabby hands of another Gryffindor chaser came close to the quaffle, making her toss it over to Roger.

The formation of your little Ravenclaw chaser triangle separated and split off into different directions; Roger veering right, Kyra heading left, and you steering upward.

Oliver watched closely, guarding the right hoop of the goalpost while Roger held the quaffle and aimed with focus. He reeled his arm back, throwing the quaffle at Kyra.

Oliver switched over to protect the left hoop, but Kyra swiftly tossed the quaffle over to you while you hovered several feet above the post. The quaffle smacked against your broom for a moment as you shot it down and into the center hoop.

"A goal made by (Y/n) (L/n) with the assistance of Roger Davies and Kyra Murray!" Lee commented, though letting his bias slip through with his slightly disappointed tone. "Ten points for Ravenclaw!"

Cheers erupted in the Ravenclaw and Slytherin stands, but a piercing scream cut right through. Cho came spiraling down in the wind, her hair seemingly frazzled and all over the place as if someone had electrocuted her. She steadied herself on her broom and rushed back straight into the gray and clouded sky.

You sent a wary look to Roger and Kyra before continuing with the match, albeit a little more cautiously.

The match continued under the crowd's watchful and attentive gaze. Their eyes tracked the chasers and the quaffle, watching how they flew from one side of the pitch to the other in a matter of seconds.

You flinched at the sound of thunder and the bright flash of lightning, but you pushed on and played the game. The match carried on with the cheers of students being drowned out by the sound of heavy rain and furious wind.

The crowd shifted their eyes up before suddenly erupting into fits of terrified yells once they saw what was happening.

"Oh my god!"

"Harry!"

"That's Harry!"

Your eyes flickered around your surroundings, confused as to what the crowd mumbled and murmured about.

"Arresto Momentum!" Dumbledore's booming voice echoed over the howling wind like an owner demanding a dog to obey his command.

Your eyes found themselves to the familiarity that is Kyra and she locked eyes with you until suddenly glancing up with her irises filling with evident terror. She reached her hand out for you, flying at you at immense speed and crying out in horror, "(Y/n), watch out!"

But the harsh impact you felt upon your body told you that she was too late.

The heavy weight of what felt like a human body dragged you down. You attempted to steady to broom until it ultimately failed and the weight pulled you off of the flying object.

The ground of the Quidditch pitch almost looked like it flew, but the opposite happened.

You flew straight into the ground and the famous boy who lived tumbled into the dirt next to you.

"He looks a bit peaky, doesn't he?"

"Peaky?"

"What do you expect? He fell over 100 feet."

"Yeah, come on Ron. Let's walk you off the astronomy tower."

"And see what you look like."

"Probably a right sight better than he normally does," Harry joked in his groggy state. The boy blinked himself awake, the Gryffindor students around him chuckling at the remark and sighing a breath of relief at Harry's stable condition.

A few scars littered Harry's face from the fall. He pushed himself to sit upright and Hermione sat on the hospital bed that he laid on. "How are feeling?" Hermione asked with concern.

"Oh, brilliant," Harry responded, though with a tinge of sarcasm.

"You gave us a right good scare there, mate."

"What happened?"

"Well, you fell off your broom," Ron informed.

"Really?" Harry said sarcastically, feigning shock. "I meant the match. Who won?"

Hermione blinked and the rest of the Gryffindor team glanced at each other warily. Standing up to her feet, Hermione moved the hair from her face nervously. "Uhm, no one blames you, Harry. The dementors aren't supposed to come inside the grounds. Dumbledore was furious. As soon as he saved you, he sent them straight off."

"There's, uh, something else you should know too, Harry, uhm," Ron spoke hesitantly, bringing forward the rubble of sticks wrapped in a cloth that lay in his arms. "When you fell, your broom, it sort of blew into the Whomping Willow, and... Well..." Ron unwrapped the cloth and revealed the debris of the destroyed broomstick, picking up a piece of the broken handle with his hand.

Harry stared at the broken handle, his eyes clouded with a muddled spectrum of indistinguishable emotions.

The doors squeaked open, a small opening of the door being created. Luna and Ginny emerged from the crack and they softly shut the door behind them, making a beeline toward the group of Ravenclaws that resided on one side of the room.

Ginny gave her brothers a tight-lipped smile as she passed by Harry's bed before walking away. Fred and George glanced at each other as if they were communicating through their eyes before George nodded his head in the direction where you lay and they followed Ginny to the Ravenclaw side of the room.

"What's going on?" Harry questioned, sitting himself completely up to get himself a better view over the sea of heads that surrounded him.

"It's (Y/n) (L/n)," Hermione explained simply, looking over her shoulder then looking back at her friend.

"Who?" Harry inquired, confused.

"A Ravenclaw chaser. She's in our year," Hermione informed. "...You kind of knocked her off her broom when you crashed. Knocked her head hard and blacked right out when she hit the floor, so Madam Pomfrey's started checking on her after she finished with you. I reckon she's gotten a concussion now."

"Oh," Harry mumbled.

Despite his wounds and injuries, Hermione gave him a slight slap to his shoulder. "'Oh'? Is that all you have to say?"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Harry questioned incredulously. "You want me to tell her 'I'm sorry that I gave you a concussion, even though I was unconscious'?"

Hermione blinked owlishly and shrugged. "Well, I don't know, but you could've been more sympathetic."

It was Harry's turn to blink dumbly. "Why?"

That earned him another smack on the shoulder.

Cho lay in one bed, groaning and holding her head in pain. In the other bed, you lay there, staring blankly and tiredly at the ceiling while Madam Pomfrey checked everything she could to make sure you were alright. Everyone crowded around Cho's bed as Madam Pomfrey ordered everyone to stay away while she did her check-up.

"Is (Y/n) alright?" Luna inquired softly.

Kyra shrugged, humming in confusion. "No idea, but everything looks okay so far."

"Well, it's good that everyone else's okay" Luna commented and Ginny nodded in agreement.

You stifled a wince as Madam Pomfrey lifted your arm up for inspection. Her eyes raked over the condition of your arm before nodding to herself and letting the arm fall to your side.

"It seems everything's good," Pomfrey sighed tiredly, jotting down a few notes. She held a vial out to you and you gently picked it up. "Just take this to help with your concussion and you should be fine."

"Thank you,"