Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters/places. You need proof? You need to know that it doesn't belong to me? If it were mine, SIRIUS AND FRED WOULDN'T BE DEAD! *shakes the computer and then starts sobbing* I love Sirius and Fred and it hurt so badly when they died.

Author's Note: I just wrote this for fun. PLease review and enjoy. It really make my day seeing what ya'll think.

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Harry and Ron were resting in the infirmary after the quidditch match. Harry was silently seething about how he couldn't jump out of this bed and strangle McLaggen and Ron decided to bring up the string of injuries due to quidditch that Harry had sustained. He had always thought about how odd it was that Harry was so often injured during quidditch. It obviously wasn't due to Harry's prowess at the sport, because that was amazing.

"Hey, Harry?" Ron began.

"What, Ron?" sighed Harry, sounding angry, although Ron, having known Harry for so long, knew he was merely angry about the match and McLaggen.

"How many quidditch injuries have you had?"

"What?" asked Harry, startled by the question.

"How many injuries have you had from quidditch?" Ron repeated.

"Oh, well, I don't know really," replied Harry. "It's not like I keep track or anything."

"C'mon mate. Let's think." Ron screwed up his face, trying to think back 6 years. "Did anything happen to you in first year?"

"I don't think so. I mean, I swallowed the snitch, but it's not like I had to come to the hospital wing for it. I just coughed it up." They both winced and thought about how weird that was.

"I think," Harry continued with a fondness in his voice, "it was really the team that kept me from getting hurt. I remember Fred and George were almost always somewhere nearby, because I think everybody was terrified of me getting hurt because it was the first time in a while they had a good team. Since Charlie was here, anyways."

"Yeah, that's right." Ron continued thinking, "Ha, remember in second year when that git got rid of all the bones in your arm."

"Oh, Merlin." Harry groaned. "Don't remind me. I hope that never happens again, it hurt so bad. Totally worse than this," he pointed at his bandaged head, "and I think it was worse than the broken foot too from last year. The foot anyways was really easy. I only had to spend one night in here for that."

"Yeah. Good thing you were able to catch the snitch before you passed out, huh?" Harry nodded. "Or else that git, Smith might've gotten it." Harry chuckled at Ron's remark. It was then Ron noticed something on Harry's arm. He could see a pale area of skin not usually visible because of Harry's robes. He wondered why he hadn't seen it before. It's not like he always wore robes, he wore t-shirts at night and on the weekends.

"What about that?" Ron asked, craning his neck to look at Harry's right arm.

"What?" Harry asked.

"That one right there on your arm." Ron pointed and Harry looked a bit paler.

"Oh, that's one not from quidditch." Harry sounded a bit sick and it was right then that Ron remembered. That was where You-Know-Who had cut him with a cursed knife. He felt a boiling fury rising within him at all the pain that monster had put his best friend through.

"I'm sorry, mate. I just forgot. I'm really sorry." He apologized hurriedly.

"No, it's okay. Forget about it, mate," Harry replied, smiling slightly. "I - I just try not to think about it very much, y'know?" Ron nodded and gave him a slight grin back.

"Anyways," Harry continued, "what about your leg?"

"What about it?" Ron asked, a bit bewildered.

"Well, you do have a pretty big scar where my godfather tried to rip your leg off." Harry chuckled and Ron grimaced.

"Merlin's beard, Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "Why did you have to bring that up?"

"Well," Harry answered, grinning broadly, "we were talking about me a lot, I figured we needed to talk about you for a bit!" That made Ron grin again and they started trading stories about injuries, trying to out-do the other.

They really were the best of friends.