Disclaimer: I own nothing, I gain nothing, and everything belongs to J. K. Rowling.

2: Quidditch Perks

The sun reflected glaringly off of Harry's glasses as he searched frantically for the snitch. Slytherin was giving them a run for their cup, the tension was tangible. The lead has been switching between the two teams and there seemed to be no end in sight. Scanning the grounds from his perch above the streaming red and green capes, the grunts and screams of Lee Jordan as he threw insult after insult to the Slytherin name could be heard rather clearly, along with the exasperated squawks of Professor McGonagall as she tried to calm him, but to no avail. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a tiny golden glimmer. Quickly jerking his broom around to face it, he squinted in the afternoon sun, the elusive sparkle gone. And there it was again! Hovering down low to the ground, its intricate wings making a tiny glittering spot, sat the snitch. He quickly tipped his broom towards the ground, leaning forward and gaining speed rapidly. Wood, seeing him streaking down from above, let out a cheer, new hope swelling in his eyes. Malfoy was slow at realizing what was happening beneath him, having been distracted by the play had lost any chance of catching up. He swooped and circled around the field, watching carefully for any sign the snitch had escaped. He recognized Harry's dive however, the snitch was Harry's, Gryffindor would win. Harry could see the snitch approaching rapidly as he reached out his arm, his other tightening on his broom handle, ready to pull to a stop at the last second, when a strangled cry from George to, "Look out Harry!" reached him. Just as his fingers closed around the snitch, he felt a large object crash into his side, and he was thrown from his broom. Spots danced across his vision and the world rapidly closed around him as he fell into darkness.

When he came to, he was in a soft bed surrounded by pillows. Madam Pomfrey was blotting his face with a cool cloth.

"Thank Merlin you're awake child, nasty nasty sport! If you ask me it should be banned!" She scolded freely, punctuating each declaration with a rather hard blot on his face.

"Thank you Madam Pomfrey. I appreciate it." Harry managed to get out. Her face immediately softened and she smiled warmly down at her regular.

"Of course dear, it's my job isn't it," at which point her expression became stormy again as she resumed her rant, "patch you up so you can go on out and get broken again. It's a vile, violent sport. Poppycock, the lot of it!" She intoned, finally satisfied that his face was thoroughly soaked, and he was thoroughly awake. She soon bustled off muttering darkly to herself about broken ribs and "nasty sports."

Speaking of broken ribs Harry decided it was time to inspect the damage. Glancing down at his side from where his head was propped up on the magically fluffed pillows, he saw his side wrapped tightly in a layer of white gauze that was… no, it couldn't be… was it… steaming?

It was. Little clouds of steam floated up from the bandages, curling around themselves before quickly dissipating. Figuring the enchantments and potions on the bandages were only doing good, and because he had learned during his numerous visits to the infirmary over the last four years not to question Madame Pomfrey, he decided to let it be... For an entire thirty seconds. After that his curiosity got the better of him and he gingerly lifted the top edge of the wrappings.

The sight that assailed his eyes was not a pretty one. His side was various colors that human skin generally shouldn't be. Besides the intense bruising, a large portion was pink and inflamed like a healing wound, with a scabbed-over ridge at the top. It looked like a Bludger had crashed into his side, cracking his rib in just a way that half of it had split through, rupturing his skin. He decided to try and work on reigning in his insatiable curiosity a little as he was feeling quite queasy.

Letting his head fall back onto the pillows and closing his eyes tight he willed the image floating in his mind away. As he lay there he heard someone approaching, and for fear of having to suffer through another one of Madame Pomfrey's rants, he lay still, relaxing his face and steadied his breath. The person was standing over him. He could hear them. "Focus," he thought to himself, "you are out cold, you are asleep, then she'll do what she has to do and leave, quietly."

Silence. He was dying to see what was happening on the outside of his eyes, but he remained steadfast with his resolve to hold back on the curiosity for a little while. He strained his ears, and there it was, quiet breathing. Perhaps there was a sudden draft, he swore he could feel a gentle breeze on his face…

Suddenly something soft and warm was on his mouth, another mouth was on his mouth! His eyes flew open as he saw a halo of brown curls moving upward. He snapped his eyes shut as Hermione began to talk to him.

"Oh Harry, I do hope you get better soon. That was a nasty hit. Oh Merlin I was so worried! There was blood and Hagrid carried you off the field…" Here she trailed off, and just as Harry was about to open his eyes she started up again.

"I don't know why I'm even talking, you're still asleep, which is good, because you need rest, and if you weren't asleep -" she stopped again, and he could nearly feel how red she must be, and he just couldn't pass up the opportunity to make her go even redder.

"You're right, I do need my rest." He intoned as if he had been talking to her the whole time. And he was correct; she was blushing, looking down at the end of the bed. As soon as she heard his voice, she whipped around, her eyes wide and her mouth fell open a little. Her face soon flushed a deep, deep crimson as she slapped his chest, "You absolute git! You were awake the whole time weren't you?" She cried, halfheartedly attacking his chest. He winced a little as his side gave a painful throb, but kept his cheerful smirk on his face. Nonetheless, she caught the wince and clutched her hand to her chest.

"I'm sorry Harry! You must be in pain. But you're still bloody evil. I hope you know that you git!" She intoned, her blushing furiously.

"Quick 'Mione, is Madame Pomfrey around?" He asked, making his voice urgent. She turned, frantically scanning the room.

"No she isn't! No one is around!" She cried. "Oh Harry! Have I hurt you? Shall I run and find Madame Pomfrey?"

"No no, it's ok… You can help me." He offered.

"Sure Harry, what do you need?"

"Well…" He started, a grin spreading across his face, "you could kiss me again." She gave him a withering glare and he hastened to offer more incentive.

"I mean, it was such a good painkiller. I can pretend to be asleep again!" He chuckled as her face went bright red again. He pulled out his secret weapon - the puppy eyes.

She sighed dramatically as she saw what his ploy had been all along. Although she crossed her arms and glared at him, he knew he was winning.

"Harry James Potter you are awful." She said, leaning in and planting another kiss on his lips. But this time as she made to pull away, Harry reached up a hand, ignoring the pain bursting in his side, and caught the back of her head, keeping her there. And as they kissed, he could have sworn his vision exploded with stars.