Disclaimer: I wish. I don't receive.

*WARNING* This chapter is a bit gory. *END WARNING*

Also, some of the...ermmmm... Medical stuff is... Well, made up based on my vast knowledge of the field from a semester of Anatomy and many episodes of House. My excuse is magic. With magic, anything is possible. It's not very far out there, though.

-lastchapter-
"YES! GRYFFINDOR WINS!" River screamed, almost being drowned out by the Gryffindor's (and some Hufflepuff) cheers.

I was so happy, I felt like nothing could go wrong. I sat on my broom, holding my arm in the air, the Snitch struggling in my fingers.

"Good game, Rose," Scorpius said, smiling at me. I grinned back.

"No really you-" Scorpius broke off, his face blank before his eyes went as wide as galleons and he tried to lurch toward me.

"ROSE, DUCK!" Scorpius bellowed.

It was too late. I felt something collide brutally with the back of my neck, right between my shoulder blades. Pain exploded through out my body, ang I flipped forward off my broom. It barely registered that I was tumbling sporratically towards the ground and that I couldn't move - or feel- my arms or legs before everything went black.

SPOV:

Rose had caught the Snitch, her face breaking into a huge grin.

"YES! GRYFFINDOR WINS!" River Jordan was screaming, cheers resonating throughout the stadium. I was honestly happy for Rose. With the game we'd all, Gryffindor's included, just played, it was deserved.

"Good game, Rose," I told her, taking my defeat in stride. No, she'd never let me live it down. But I knew that she'd taunt me, giving me those pretty little smiles she had when she tried to be more ferocious than she was. Those damn smiles always made my heart pick up pace in the most pleasureable way. Sometimes I lived for those smiles; they'd just make me forget all the crap I dealt with in life.

After I praised her victory, she'd given me a disbelieving look, so I felt the need (i.e. before I could stop myself, which happens to me alot around Rose) to reassure her.

"No really you-" I started, but something caught my eye. In the Hufflepuff stands behind us, someone had moved oddly. I mean, there were jumping and cheering and dancing kids everywhere, but this person made the hairs on my neck stand up. I momentarily forgot what I was saying as I watched whoever, whilst standing behind everyone on the highest row, throw back their hood, revealing a glint of pure silver (which I'd later realize was a mask) and raise their wand. And as I watched, they fired off a spell. A spell that was composed of brilliant purple flame-like light. And it was headed straight for Rose.

"ROSE, DUCK!" I screamed, lunging to pull her out of the way. But the spell was too fast. It hit her directly in the back.

Rose's eyes widened, and I saw split second flashes of so many emotions with in them. Fear, pain, confusion. I was frozen with shock, just watching her.

She started to topple sideways off her broom, her sapphire iris' rolling back into her head. With out thinking, I flew under her, knowing we'd both fall if I tried to catch her while I was parallel to her. She fell heavily in my arms, her dead weight making us descend rapidly a few meters. I craddled her bridal-style in my arms as I slowly dove towards the ground. As I did so, I felt warmth, which at first attributed to Rose's body so close to mine. But that was before the salty metallic smell hit me full force.

I stopped, about ten feet from the ground, and looked down. I regretted it instantly.

I had subconsciously thought the spell had just knocked her out, like a Stunner. I was so wrong.

My robes were now a deep, almost black, scarlet with Rose's blood. I could feel the arms and torso of my robes sticking to me. And it was spreading. I could feel her blood on my legs now. Cautiously, I lifted her into a sitting position on my lap. Her head flopped forward onto the bicep of the arm that was supporting her. But none of it mattered. Lifting her into that position was my biggest mistake.

Rose's robes were slashed open diagonally from mid left ribs to right shoulder. But the sight before me will scar me for life. I could see every tendon, every muscle, and bone through the gash. And the blood. There was just so much. I couldn't help it. The tears came before I could stop them and I started shouting and screaming.

"HELP ME! SHE'S...OH MY GOD! NO! ROSE!" I was sobbing hysterically, flying to the ground as quickly as possible, getting off my broom and collapsing on the grass. "Rose Rose Rose! NO!" I was sobbing.

The teams had crowded around me now, and I could hear panicked voices and other people crying. Nothing mattered. Rose was dying, in my arms.

I hadn't even told her I loved her.

"I'm sorry! Rose, I'm sorry! Don't die! Please don't leave me!" I was screaming. Al suddenly appeared with Sadie, who was crying just as horribly, if not worse, than I was.

"Hospital... Wing. Go. We need to. Now..." Al choked out with a thick voice. I tryed to stand and hold Rose, but I couldn't do it alone. I stopped sobbing long enough to stare Al down. He understood, and we moved together, managing, with Sadie's help, to lock arms and craddle Rose between us, an arm around each of our necks.

"MOVE!" Sadie was shouting, taking off across the pitch, through the crowd of what seemed like the entire school, making a path for us. Al and I ran as fast as we could, both conscious of the probable spinal injury she had. I was no longer sobbing pitifully (and against my will, I might add), but the tears still came steadily.

If Rose...died...it was all my fault. My fault. I wasn't able to protect her. I didn't take the spell for her. I didn't... I..

I saw the faces as they passed; they ranged from shock to awe to terror. I just couldn't comprehend them.

We made it into the silence of the Castle, the only sounds being Sadie, Al, and my frantic, scuffling steps, or labored breathing and a thin, raspy sopund I soon realized were Rose's gasps of breath. Although it gave me renewed hope, I knew it wasn't a good sound.

We made it as far as the hallway that led to the Hospital Wing before we met someone. Or rather, a large group.

Mr. Potter, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Proffessor McGonagall, Proffessor Longbottom, Madame Clearwater, and several St. Mungo's Healers were rushing to meet us. The Healers, one of which, with shock, I recognized as my father, had a stretcher between them.

"Hand her over, boys, we'll take it from here," one of the Healers said. Al started to let go, but I held tight.

"I-I ccan'tt-I," I stuttered. The Healer looked helplessly at the gathered parents. My father strode over and practically shoved Al away before gathering Rose in his arms and gently laying her on the stretcher. With her gone from my arms, I felt my legs give out. I stared listlessly at the ground, not knowing what to do. Sadie came forward and wrapped her arms around me, crying steadily into my shoulder. I heard a rough sliding sound and turned to see Al, his face completely blank, slowly sliding down the stone wall of the hallway. I just stared at him, and soon, he looked back at me. His face betrayed nothing of what I needed right now. His eyes were cold and despondant.

I knew my face was just as bad. We were both masking the feelings of the seemingly endless loss we were feeling right now. We could hear Mrs. Weasley's screams of pain and misery from the Wing. I didn't know what they meant.

And once again, before I could stop myself, I heard myself whisper, "Rose, I love you."

"You need to clean up," Mr. Potter was saying. I just looked up at him.

"It's been a day, Scorpius. A whole day. You and Albus are covered in blood. Go, please," Mr. Potter said. I turned away and looked meaningfully at the bed Rose was laying, comatose, on. I looked back up at Mr. Potter.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. That was Sunday.

Monday.

Mr. Potter convinced me and Al to go change. It didn't take much by that point. Mrs. Weasley sobbed at the sight of the blood, Mr. Weasley looked pissed, and Mr. and Mrs. Potter had sad but understanding looks.

Al and I walked to the Ravenclaw common room in complete silence. We'd both skivved off our classes, along with the entire Potter/Weasly family that currently attended Hogwarts. Currently, everyone should be in lunch, so no one would have to see (or smell) us.

We made it as far as our dorm before Al spoke.

"Whoever finishes first waits. We go back together."

I grunted in confirmation before entering one of the male bathrooms.

My clothes cracked with dried blood as I stripped. I refused to look at my body as I undressed. My hands, still stained a deep brownish-red, were the only part of my body I could stand to look at.

I let the warm water wash over me, finally looking down at my chest to see the dried blood reconstitute and the water turn a brilliant scarlet. I watched the water at my feet go from deep red, to pink, to clear.

Hygene be damned. I got the blood off, but not truly washing was much faster. Forgoing properly washing meant I could get back to Rose faster.

I dressed just as quickly. When I was done, I almost ran into Al, who was rushing like me.

We made it back to the Hospital Wing in record time, taking our same place on the floor in the corner with Sadie and Daphne. It was monotonus. It was mundane. It was our current routine.

Sit. Stare. Nod when spoken to. Eat a few bites to appease Mrs. Potter. Wallow in sorrow and worry.

Do it all again tomorrow.

It was Wednesday before we even heard news of Rose's condition.

According to my father, the spell had been Dark Magic. The caster wasn't proficient in it, and had most likely cast it non-verbally, so it wasn't as strong as it should've been. Severed arteries. Cut on a vertabrae. Damage to spinal chord. Physical therapy. Scaring.

It all blurred together. None of it made sense in my mind.

"But will she be ok?" I finally burst out. The parents looked at my dad, obviously wanting to know as well. My dad just stared at me.

"Ultimately, yes. But her recovery will be a long process," my dad said. He turned and addressed the Weasleys again.

"I've done everything I could for right now. We have to keep her in the coma in order for her body to regenerate and heal while the potions and spells take effect. I'm requesting she be moved to St. Mungo's so that i can keep a closer eye on her progress. It will also make it much easier to get the supplies she needs."

I felt cold. Move her? To London?

I felt someone grab my hand and squeeze. I turned and saw Daphne, her one hand in a vice grip in mine, the other clapped over her mouth, covering her sobs. I pulled her to me, holding her.

We needed the comfort. This was hard on us all. She loved Rose as much as I did, just differently.

The Weasleys were talking with all the Healers. I watched my father, just trying to clear my head.

There was nothing I could say or do. It wasn't my place. For all his faults, my father knew what was best in this situation. He wasn't St. Mungo's premier Healer for nothing.

Until I was eleven years old, I had never understood why my cold, calculating father had chosen to become a Healer. It wasn't until my first History lesson on the Second Wizarding War that I understood.

Although the reward of saving lives was great, the real, and first reason, he became a Healer was for redemption. I'd asked him, once when he still liked me. He told me that he realized, after the war, that he had no options. He was an ex-Death Eater, the son of a Death Eater, and his family had played a key part in the war, both in a good and a bad way. The people he was connected to and the people he knew weren't going to help him at all. He'd seen things and done things that he couldn't take back, and doing something worth while would not only provide for his family, but also help him give a bit back to the world he'd helped destroy.

Sometimes, I forgot this side of my dad when he was being particularly dick-like at "home".

We were ushered out as they prepared to take Rose to St. Mungo's. I helped Daphne up, and along with Sadie and Al, we exited the Wing.

"Scorpius!" Mrs. Weasley called from behind me. I turned, letting go of Daphne.

"Yes?" I asked politely. Mrs. Weasley pulled me into a tight hug. I hesitantly returned it.

"Thank you," she whispered so only I could hear.

"No, I... It was my fault, I couldn't save-," but I was cut off as she hugged me tighter.

"No. You are part of the reason she's alive. And," she took a sharp breath. "I know she loves you, too."

My eyes widened in response. "You heard..." I began.

"Yes," she said back, ending our hug. As she pulled back, she put her hand on my cheek in a motherly way, just looking at me with sad eyes, before turning away and meeting up with Mr. Weasley.

I looked at Mr. Weasley. He stared back. And then, surprising me, he gave me a quick nod before walking away with the Healers and Rose.

I turned and the four of us started off, walking in silence. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, but I wasn't very shocked when we ended up sitting under the beech tree, staring out at the lake, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

AN: That was SO MUCH fun to write. For real.

Also, in the few days since last chapter, I, your loyal author...was made stage manager in drama! *squeals*

This shouldn't be problem, writing-wise. I'll still update.

This chapter, while not as happy as would be appropriate, is dedicated to one of my best friends, Versailles In August. "You know who" a dickbitchhead and you are the rightful Captain :)

Review, my lovelies, and you shall be rewarded extravagantly :)