Chapter Nineteen

It was dark when I awoke and, unable to turn my face towards the clock, I felt sort of timeless. I lay there, allowing myself to wake slowly, feeling as the pain in my body became more and more acute. I tried, experimentally, to move my toes, the pain made me cry out into the darkness.

The noise brought Madame Pomfrey over, I could see the glow of her approaching light flicker on the ceiling above me, and hear her sharp footsteps echoing out over the floor.

"So you're awake then." She said, looking down at me. I got the horrible feeling that maybe being awake was wrong.

"Erm yes" I said, wondering if I should add an apology

"Good. The Headmaster would like to have a few words with you, if you feel up for it."

"I guess so" I said, wincing slightly as I tried to shift my face to see where Dumbledore might be standing.

Madame Pomfrey moved away, and the next face I saw was that of the Headmaster's, his half-moon spectacles seemed to sparkle in the residual lamplight.

"How are you feeling, Miss Alvic?" he asked me

"I'm ok" I replied stupidly, a little intimidated and well aware that I was, for the first time, talking to the most powerful wizard of the age.

The most powerful wizard of the age chuckled slightly, "Sorry, I'm not ok" I corrected myself, thankful that the bruises on my cheeks hid the red blush I could feel under skin.

"Indeed not. I was wondering, Miss Alvic, if you had any idea who did this to you?"

"I genuinely don't know" I told him, truthfully "One minute I was leaning over the Quaffle, the next…"

"I see. Unfortunately no one saw anyone around the Quidditch pitch at any point that morning. It will be most difficult to track down the perpetrator without any evidence from you. Obviously, we shall do our best…"

"It's alright" I said, cutting over him and immediately being taken back by my own nerve, "I didn't see who attacked me and if no one else did….I don't want this to turn into the Spanish Inquisition."

"But Alvic," another voice, this one belonging to Professor Flitwick, "you understand that you could be in some danger?"

"With respect, I don't think so Professor. I'm pretty sure this was about Quidditch, every team in the school would benefit from us losing tomorrow, and if we do, then they'll be no reason to attack me again."

"A logical mind most befitting of Ravenclaw" Dumbledore said calmly, "you must be very proud Filius." Flitwick didn't reply, and Dumbledore returned his attention to me, and for the first time I heard anger in his voice, so faint you could almost miss it. "This kind of attack is not tolerated in Hogwarts" he told me, "We shall, reluctantly, have to leave this for the present with a lack of any evidence, but I insist if you ever feel yourself threatened within this school I would ask you to confide in myself or Professor Flitwick here at the first opportunity."

I wasn't sure if that warranted an answer, it was clear the conversation had run its course. "Erm, I will" I said, the words almost sounding like a question.

Dumbledore smiled at me, "I wish you a speedy recovery Miss Alvic, it would be a pity to see you miss out on your captaincy."

He rose slowly and turned towards the door. "Er, Professor?" I managed to squeak, there had been a thought playing on my mind ever since Flora had mentioned it earlier.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering, I know it's probably stupid but, this…well….it couldn't have been Black could it?"

Dumbledore looked at me with interest, "Do you think it was?"

"Not really" I admitted, "I mean, what would he want with me? And it was the morning, and why would he sabotage some bludgers when Gryffindor weren't even playing? And he can't get in anyway, can he?"

"I think you are probably right, Miss Alvic" Dumbledore said kindly, "this attack was most likely the fallout of a Quidditch rivalry that went too far. Try not to concern yourself with Sirius Black for the moment."

He gave me a pitying, but sincere, smile before moving out of my sightline, I could hear him muttering to Madame Pomfrey, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. He left soon after, the swish of his cloak against the floor reaching my ears and filling me with a sense of isolation. I drifted back into sleep.

When I awoke Madame Pomfrey was standing by my bed, ready with my pain medication, fresh dressings and a full account of my injuries. She trotted them off as she set about peeling away the bloodied bandages, cleansing the wounds with something that stung, and binding them with fresh wrappings. I had, it transpired, severe bruising everywhere, including two black eyes, a broken nose, split lip, broken clavicle, dislocated left shoulder and several fractures on the corresponding humerus, a more severe break in my right radius, seven broken ribs, including a deep cut where one had punched through my skin, (I nearly threw up when I saw that wound), hip fractures, and a shattered femur in my right leg. I had, I was assured, been rather lucky. There had been, as far as could been seen, no damage to my internal organs, (it was theorised the bludger had been enchanted to focus on bones alone), and the way I had fallen, (onto my back) had managed to protect my spine. Despite not being able to cure the injuries until the curse had been lifted, pain relief still had some affect, and for the most part, as long as I kept quite still, I existed in a state of a dull, endless ache.

No one came to see me before the match started, I hadn't expected them to. If fact, if one of the team, particularly Henry, had shown their face I probably would have yelled at them to get their mind back on the coming game. I listened intently as the crowds swarmed down to the pitch, listening to the rising chatter and wishing I could punch something in frustration. Madame Pomfrey looked at me disapprovingly, "don't you go tearing out your stitches again" she chastised me, as she walked past to attend to another student who was heavily vomiting a few beds down from me. I shot her a sulky look behind her back, or at least, I attempted to, my face wasn't exactly capable of producing distinct expressions as it stood.

From far below I could hear the game kicking off, the cheering crowd buried the sound of the commentary, and so I was left listening as the noise rose and fell in celebration, never knowing which side had scored every time the noise reached a deafening level. It seemed like hours before the same crowd swarmed back under the window, the match clearly over, my fate now decided.

I waited, as patiently as anyone in my position could wait, for the hospital wing doors to open. I wished I could have moved my fingers, fiddled with something, just to dispel the almost nauseating apprehension that raddled my body. Eventually the doors swung open, and Henry and Flora walked in.

I could see immediately that we hadn't won. Henry was smiling, but it was smile filled with apology. Flora looked downright miserable. She rushed over to my bed, shaking her head softly, tears threatened to bloom out behind her eyes.

"And you don't even like Quidditch" I joked quietly, with little humour.

"I know, it's stupid. We just wanted to win this for you."

"It was close, Riza" Henry said, sitting himself down in the other chair

"Of course it was" I said, softly "you were the best replacement I could hope for. How close is close?"

"We were leading by 140 points, until Malfoy caught the snitch."

"I see. What happened to Cho?"

"Malfoy fouled her earlier on in the game, knocked into her, she nearly fell off her broom. She carried on playing but…"

Cho had entered behind him, "I'm so sorry, Riza" she said, "I should have beaten him, but when he knocked into me, he did something to my shoulder. It made that old injury flare up. I just couldn't get there in time."

"Injuries happen." I said, amazed by how calm I was sounding. "I'm still proud of you, all of you." I was addressing the rest of the team who stood huddled by the doorway. "It's not over for us yet, we've still got Gryffindor to play and I will be better by that, I promise. In the mean time I want you guys to practice. Cho, you focus on getting your arm better, don't do anything to push it. Duncan, you're acting captain until I recover. Got it?" There were some scattered nods. "We can't afford to have anyone missing practices for detentions so I would also implore you not to engage in any fighting, magical or non-magical with the Slytherins in the aftermath of this match." A few more unenthusiastic nods, "if there are any teachers around." I qualified quietly, so Madame Pomfrey couldn't overhear. "Now then, off you go, go get lunch, you all seem like you've earned it."

The team dribbled out slowly, murmuring get well soon wishes as they went, eventually only Flora and Henry remained.

"You should go get lunch too" I told them, "it'll be finishing soon."

"What about you?" Flora asked

"What about me? It's not like I can go to lunch."

" That's not what I mean, I mean, are you ok? About losing the match I mean."

"I'll get over it, it's not like there was anything else I can do. At least I won't be a target after this."

"The Gryffindor's still might try to take you out."

"True, but I doubt they will. They're a bit too noble for that. Now seriously, go and eat!"

Henry patted my arm sympathetically, causing me to wince. "We'll be back later alright."

"Yeah, you better be. I'm going crazy with just Madame Pomfrey." I paused, "No offence!" I called across the ward in case she could hear me. I didn't get a response.

The ward was quiet again after I left, with the anticipation and nervousness of the match past, I was now inconsolably bored. There was nothing to do but stare at the same patch of ceiling while the distant voices of other students I didn't recognise flowed in and out of the room.

Until I did recognise one of the voices. "Hello Wood" I said, before he even reached my peripheral vision.

"You psychic now?" He asked settling himself in the chair beside me.

"What do you want?"

"You lost the match."

"I was aware of that? Is this meant to be gloating?"

"No. It's meant to be…..consolation. I am sorry, we were supporting you, you know."

"Why? You needed the Slytherins to win didn't you?"

"True. But Flint's also a dickhead so what can you do? Speaking of dickheads, Greengrass will be popping up later."

"And what are you? Advance guard."

"I prefer early warning system. You know, to give you time to prepare."

"And how exactly should I prepare? I can hardly touch up my makeup or put on a nice dress."

"Aww, poor Alvic"

"Shut up."

"You don't look that bad, the nose looks a little less bulbous today."

"Go away" I said, but I couldn't stop the amusement rising in my voice.

"Nah, you don't want me to leave. Can't be that much to do around here except wallow in self-pity."

"I happen to like wallowing in self-pity."

"Oh why does that not surprise me?" There was a pause, "we're going to kick the Slytherin's respective arses you know."

"That would be a touching gesture if I thought you were actually doing it for me."

"Can't I dedicate the attempt to you, even if you're not the motive?"

"We don't even know if Flint did this."

"Oh know else would it be?"

"Innocent until proven guilty. However, if you did want to hex him when he wasn't looking I suppose I could live with that."

"Only for you Alvic."

"Hmm."

"Right, I better go, Greengrass said he'd be along about now and I'd rather like to avoid interacting with him."

"So you're going to leave me to deal with him alone. A helpless invalid?"

"Alvic, you may be an invalid, but I don't think you could ever be helpless. In fact, you scare me a little, even when you're like this. See you later."

"See you" I muttered, with mock petulance.