Note: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters.

This was written for the "Ten" Challenge and Competition by Quintessential Dreams. I had the characters Dumbledore and George Weasley with the prompts: Ditch, Quidditch, Lion, Sovereign, Conundrum, Jealous, Pink, Languid, Almond, Agoraphobia.

Something I learnt from writing this is I cannot for the life of me write short fics. This is a chaptered fic and I will be putting one to two chapters up each day. Please review and give me your opinion :)

Chapter One

"This is too important for us to lose!" Oliver Wood bellowed at the Gryffindor Quidditch team. "We must win; we must beat Slytherin! Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!" George said, saluting the captain mockingly. "Beat Slytherin, win. Got it," he gave the him a wink and then returned to his seat beside his twin brother, Fred.

Oliver Wood was always carrying on about how they must win, they must beat Slytherin, they must beat Hufflepuff. George had learnt to ignore it. How could they possibly lose, when Harry Potter was their Seeker? He was the best Gryffindor had had since Charlie Weasley (his own brother).

"You worry too much, Wood," Fred said. "When has Harry ever lost us a match?...that is, when has Harry ever lost us a match when he hasn't fallen off his broom, or been chased by Dementors?" he added quickly before Wood could argue.

George, along with the rest of the team, slipped in to his Quidditch robes and left the change room. This was going to be easy. Harry would have the Snitch in half an hour at the latest.

They marched towards the Quidditch pitch, Wood still barking instructions at them, but no one was listening. Each had their own mental plan, determining which way they were going to fly, who they were going to knock with a Bludger first, or how fast the Snitch was going to be.

Malfoy, George thought, a grin forming on his face, get Malfoy out of the way and the game's ours!

They stepped on to the pitch to loud cheers from the Gryffindors and loud boos from the Slytherins. Did anyone doubt they could lose this?

The captains shook hands and then Madam Hooch blew her whistle. George kicked off from the ground, clutching his Beater in his hands. Katie Bell already had the Quaffle and was zooming to their end. She dodged one Bludger and two Slytherin Chasers to reach the goal posts and score. Ten-zero to Gryffindor.

George watched as Fred directed a Bludger straight at Malfoy's head, missing him by half an inch. A smirk appeared across his face.

Git, George thought. I'll wipe that smile off your face. He saw the other Bludger coming in his direction. Positioning himself so he could get a good hit, he swung his bat has hard as he could in the direction of Malfoy.

As focused as he was on getting Malfoy, George didn't realise one of the Slytherin Beaters coming towards him. Both swung at the same time and the Slytherin won out, slamming the Bludger right into George's face.

He heard a crack and then a falling sensation came over him. In the impact, he had fallen off his broom.

This was it. He was sixty feet in the air, a Bludger to his face and his wand stashed somewhere in his robes. This was how he was going to die. He was going to fall to his death at a school Quidditch match. Wood was going to be pissed.

OOO

There was a loud crack and George's eyes snapped open. He was facing something white...no, now there was a face there too. They were peering down at him through half-moon spectacles. He knew that face, but it wasn't the one he expected to see just after he died.

"P-Professor Dumbledore?" he stuttered. Why wasn't his mouth working properly?

"Good evening, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore answered, his voice cheerful and unconcerned. "How are you feeling?"

George's hand went to his face. He remembered now. One of the Slytherin Beaters had slammed a Bludger in to his face.

"Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey has mended your face. It was a right mess, too. Blood everywhere...broken bones..." Dumbledore's voice became distant and his face vanished from George's sight.

"Did-did Gryffindor win?" George asked the Headmaster. What was Wood going to say if they had lost?

"Yes, yes, Harry caught the Snitch just as you fell off your broom," Dumbledore answered absently. It sounded as if he was now standing by the window of the hospital wing. "But you shouldn't be worrying about that right now, Mr Weasley."

George tried to sit up, but firm hands pushed him back on to the bed. "Your brothers and sister have been very worried about you," Dumbledore told him. "Should I let them in?"

"Er...okay." His head was a mess. How long had he been lying here for?

Before that question could be answered, four new faces appeared in front of him, each supporting fiery red hair.

"Just as ugly as ever," Fred said, sitting on his right. "You gave yourself a good whack, you know," he added.

George wasn't sure, as his vision was still a bit hazy, but he swore he saw Fred smile.

"Myself?" he questioned.

"Yeah, it was kind of odd," Ron piped in. "For a long while, it looked like you were going for the Bludger, but then it kind of turned around and you hit yourself instead."

"I thought the Slytherin did it!" George exclaimed. How had he managed to hit himself? Never, for as long as he had been playing Quidditch, had he ever hit himself before. It was virtually impossible.

"No, it was definitely you," Fred said. "We all saw it. You did it to annoy Wood, didn't you? He was so determined to win, you thought you would cause a few disruptions? I'm proud of you, bro. Never would have had the guts to do that myself, though."

"I would never-" George began. It was all so confusing. He would never risk a match like that; not when Draco Malfoy was involved.

"Anyway, the Slytherins thought it was hilarious," Ron said. "You should have heard them carrying on. Thought they would be more upset considering Harry won us the game."

George felt his face flush red from embarrassment. The last thing he wanted was to be the source of the Slytherin's glee.

"I think you should give your brother some time to rest," there was Dumbledore again. "Back to your common room, if you will."

"Bye, George," he felt Ginny kiss his cheek.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Fred said, then leaning closer so Dumbledore wouldn't hear, "I'll ditch Potions to come and see you."

Then there was silence.