Disclaimer: I do not own any parts(s) whatsoever of Harry Potter, it's charaters, settings, events, or anything like that. Chances are that if you recognize it, I do not own it, so please do not sue. I am just a Harry Potter fan who likes to write.
Authors Note: I decided to take a break from my other story, since I only currently have two reveiws for it, neither of the reveiws seeming to like it much. That was really disapointing. But this story takes place in sixth year. Hermione's hair is no longer frizzy, but long and silky. She's grown into a fine young woman, and Harry has grown up as well. He's taller and his voice is deeper. Ron is no longer afraid of his own reflection and is getting better grades in school. (I just had to say that. I hate the normal descriptions of these characters, that make them seem ugly ten year-olds.) Anyway, on with the story:
Nasty Little Blugers, Aren't They?
"He's going to be hit by that bludger!" Ron cried, pointing to Harry, who was so intent on catching snitch that he wasn't paying attention to what was going on around him. Hermione looked up in horror.
"Harry! Harry, LOOK OUT!" Ron and Hermione started screaming, as loud as possible. But Harry didn't hear them. The rain and thunder were blocking out any sounds he might've heard. Though Ron and Hermione were jumping up and down, waving their arms frantically, Harry was too far away to see them. He would soon not see anything but the back of his eyelids if he didn't move out of the way of the bluder that was coming at him faster than he could move.
Hermione snatched her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at herself, and then at Harry. She muttered a few funny words and just as Ron looked over to see what she was doing, she had disappeared. Harry stood in her place.
"Harry, what-," Ron stuttered. "Where's Hermione?"
"Take a guess," said Harry, his teeth chattering. Ron looked over in astonishment at Hermione, who was now riding Harry's broomstick. She tried to fly out of the way of the bludger, but it was too late. Ron and Harry gasped as the bludger hit Hermione on the side of the head, knocking her off the broomstick. Hermione fell at least fifty yards onto the feild and she appeared to be unconcious as Harry and Ron rushed towards her after leaving the bleachers.
Professors McGonagall, Snape, Hooch, and Hagrid and Dumbledore also rushed onto the feild. When they all reached Hermione, they saw blood trickling out of her ears and nose.
"Oh, Goddness, Albus! Is she alive?" asked Professor McGonagall as she knelt by her star pupil.
"I'm sure she is," said Dumbledore. "Just looks like she had quite a hard blow to the head." His voice was doubtful though, and he conjured a stretcher, and levitated Hermione onto it.
Then he said to Professor Snape, "Please rush her to the hospital wing." Snape looked like he was about to say something rude, but his mouth closed and he ran toward the hospital wing, when he recieved a looked from Dumbledore that said don't-say-it.
"I need to ask Harry and Ron some questions," he looked over at the both of them. They gulped, looking at each other. "Boys," he said, taking them off of the feild. "Perhaps you might tell me how Hermione learned to preform such difficult magic?"
"We don't know, Professor," said Harry immedeatly. Dumbledore gave him a suspicous glance over his glasses. "Well then, Harry," he said, with false belief, "I should say you are very lucky to not only have a friend who knows such complicated magic, but a friend who was willing to use use it to put herself in harm's way for you." He turned and strode off toward the hospital wing.
"Yes," Harry murmmered, looking over at Ron. "Yes, I suppose I am." With that, they followed Dumbledore to the hospital wing, hoping to find Hermione still alive.
Authors Note: This story is meant to be one-shot, but if I get enough reveiws, I just might continue it. Even if you don't think I should continue it, please reveiw by clicking on that little box in the corner. Thank you; it is greatly appreciated.
