Authors Note: My apologies to anyone who likes Harry Potter. I'm just killing for fun. This was not meant to offend anyone.

Disclaimer: None of the Harry Potter characters belong to me. Happy now?

Harry flew through the cold air, trying desperately to locate the snitch, as freezing chunks of sleet and ice whipped through the air around him. A dense fog had settled all around the castle, and the only proof that he was still near the Quidditch pitch was the dull roar from the crowd. The fog was so thick, only the cold wind cutting through his cloak told Harry that he was still moving. Realising that his efforts were hopeless, he veered off from his circling path and headed back towards the noise of the crowd. Ice was slowly forming on the ends of his broom and Harry knew that if his feet got any colder, they'd probably fall off. Through the fog, Harry saw a vague shape in front of him. Suddenly a sharp whistle cut through the air behind him and Harry twisted around on his broom to try and see what was happening. Unable to determine anything through the fog, Harry faced forward on his broom, only to be struck frozen in his position as an icy goalpost loomed in front of him. Panicked, Harry tried desperately to swerve, succeeding only to have the tail end of his broom strike the post. With a sharp crack, the broom broke in half. Harry lost his grip on both pieces and, arms flailing, plummeted towards the ground, facing up. He landed with a sickening thud, but his fall was broken enough by an ice-covered drift that he was still conscious. Pain coursing through his entire body, Harry opened his eyes that he had inadvertently closed and looked skyward...just in time to see the 2 pointy splintered ends of his broomstick arrowing down towards his body...

It wasn't until late spring that the ground had thawed enough for Filch to pull out the 2 pieces of wood that were embedded in the ground. As he walked away, a tiny piece of cloak fluttered off the end of one of the sticks he held under his arm.