I am so excited for this chapter! :D Lots of things happening here. Good things, bad things, confusing things, I don't know. Let me know?

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Chapter 28

I watch with horror as Harry falls into unconsciousness off his broom from the force with which the Bludger knocked into his head. Coote and Peakes, our two beaters, luckily are close by and fast enough to catch Harry before he can make a rapid descent towards the ground. My heart has dropped to the deepest end of my stomach as I watch madam Pomfrey, Hooch and professor McGonagall rush onto the field to estimate the damage.

I waste no time speeding towards the ground to get off my broom and push past my other team members to reach my knocked-out brother. As I find myself standing as closely as Madam Pomfrey will let me, I can get some sense of reassurance that there doesn't seem to be much visible damage aside the quickly-bruising massive bump on his forehead. Merlin, that must have hurt.

"Mister Potter will be fine," Professor McGonagall reassures us and though I'm likely to believe that, I'm not going to be 100% comfortable unless Harry opens his eyes and tells me himself how dandy he's feeling.

With my heart still not back to its original place in my body, I watch Madam Pomfrey levitate Harry off the field towards the Hospital Wing.

"Gryffindors, please return to your brooms and resume the positions on the field," Madame Hooch announces to the rest of the team.

"You want us to continue the game?" I frown in disbelief. I'm not up for going back to playing an innocent little game of Quidditch. "But we're one man down! We don't have a Seeker, we don't have a Captain!"

"Alright, alright, I'll do it." Cormac McLaggen rises to the challenge. "I'll be Captain."

If I thought Zabini gets my blood boiling than Cormac McLaggen at this very moment makes the blood in my veins turn to liquid lava. I push past Madam Hooch to plant my fist in his stomach and thoroughly enjoy the sound of him suffering in pain but thanks to Dean Thomas I don't get further than a few feet.

"What are you doing?! Let me go!" I yell at my idiotic fellow Chaser who despite his appearances doesn't seem to have any trouble holding onto my struggling form.

"So you can do what? We're already down one player, we'll never win if we lose another one."

"Who are you kidding? We don't have a shot now anyway and that's all his fault!" I hiss angrily in McLaggen's direction. "If Harry is not okay, I swear I will break every bone in your body!"

"Danny!" Ginny somehow finds it necessary to have a say in this as well. Why aren't they all ready to kill that dick as well? "I think that right now we should focus on the game. We've had enough training to play without our Captain present but we do need a Seeker."

I don't give a shit about beating Hufflepuff right now. I just want to run up to the Hospital Wing and see if Harry's really okay. Or better yet, I want to run down Cormac McLaggen with the Hogwarts Express.

"Danny?" Ginny looks at me expectantly.

"Fine!" I snap. "I'll play Seeker position but we're doomed anyway!"

I push Dean away and to show just how calm I can be when an idiot just knocked my brother off his broom, I pick up my own and get ready to get back in the air.

"But if you," I shove an accusing finger painfully in McLaggen's chest. "so much as move one inch out of the appropriate place for a Keeper, or even open your mouth one more time today, I'll shove your broom so far up your arse, you'll be spitting out wood for the next decade."

I angrily kick off the ground to soar back into the air, trying to spy the Snitch instead of the Quaffle now. Despite me trying to give this new Seeker position a decent try, if only to support the team mates that aren't on death row to me right now, I can't keep my head in the game. All I keep thinking about is that fall and how terrible it could have gone if Peakes and Coote hadn't been there to catch Harry. Death by the hands of his idiotic Keeper sounds like a ridiculous way for the Boy-Who-Lived to go.

I'm not listening to Luna's commentary or even paying much attention to what Dean and Ginny are doing by themselves now. The only thing I can manage right now, with my thoughts up in the Hospital Wing, is screening the field for the tiny golden ball. And that's when I see it. The Golden Snitch fluttering at the Hufflepuff Seeker's ankle.

A quick glance to the score board tells me that we're twenty points behind. If I catch this Snitch, the game will be over and we will have won. Unfortunately that also means that if the other Seeker catches the Snitch, we'll have suffered a massive defeat. And as much as I really don't give a fuck about the outcome of this game right now, I know Harry will. And I don't want him regaining consciousness to a Quidditch massacre.

In an attempt not to alert the other Seeker to the Snitch's presence, I float closer to him in a nonchalant manner. Which epically fails as soon as he turns around to look at me and the Snitch flutters in his line of vision. Fuck!

I speed up as fast as I can when I see the Hufflepuff Seeker chasing after the little ball that, luckily for me, isn't making it an easy chase.

"Oh, I think Danny and that other guy have seen the Glitch now," Luna's dreamy voice fills my ears as I rush towards the Snitch as well. "I don't get why they don't just paint it flashy yellow. Finding it would be so much easier, I think…"

Just as I get equally close to the Snitch and think that maybe, maybe, I'll still be quick enough to catch the little ball, something slams into my left side with brutal force and thus makes my right side hit the stands. I can steer my broom away from the stands before any real damage is done but Merlin, that fucking hurts!

"The yellow team wins because the one guy caught the little ball. That's too bad. I would have liked it if Danny won. She gets a little cranky when she loses."

Though I very much resent Luna's statement, I'm too busy trying to figure out what had gotten me so harshly out of course to glare at the blond for it.

I didn't see what has smashed me against the stands but as I see Ginny yelling at Cormac McLaggen what a bumbling idiot he is, it doesn't take much to figure out.

"Did you just push me against the stands?" I snarl at him once I touch ground and it's a good thing I did, my shoulder, back and arm have started tingling too painfully to maintain a good grip on my broom.

"I was trying to ram the other Seeker since you weren't quick enough to catch the Snitch. But you got in my way," He snaps – snaps!? –at me.

I got in his way? Beating the other Seeker is my job, now that he knocked our usual Seeker into the Hospital Wing. He had no business being anywhere near us!

"You're a dead man!" I hiss at him and if there was any strength left in my right arm, I would have knocked him over the head with my broom for emphasis.

"Mister McLaggen, Miss Potter and Miss Weasley," Madame Hooch comes out of nowhere. "Let me remind you that the school does not tolerate violence off the Quidditch field."

"We're on the field," I say, hoping she'll somehow give me the okay to whack what little brains McLaggen has left out of his head.

"Miss Potter, I suggest you get yourself checked at the Hospital Wing as well. You were lucky the shoulder didn't dislocate."

Funny, I don't feel particularly lucky today.

"You should get changed and see Madam Pomfrey," Ginny agrees. "I'll take care of this."

"What? Why are you the only one who gets to yell at him?" I seethe.

"Because all I'll be doing, is yelling."

Fair point, I'm forced to admit. I am feeling rather murderous at this moment. And more than wanting to kill McLaggen, I want to get this shoulder checked out because with every passing minute, it feels that much closer to just falling off.

"Fine," I hiss before marching to the changing rooms.

As soon as I get there, I bump into the first obstacle. If I can't raise my right arm, how am I supposed to change out of this Quidditch gear? I give it a few attempts before giving up and sitting down on the bench, waiting for Ginny to return as she is the only other girl on the team. I'll just have to patiently await the moment she's done with chewing out McLaggen. I hope she can keep it short but firm.

My prayers are answered when she walks into the changing room a good five minutes later.

"Why haven't you changed yet?" She frowns at me.

"I can't," I raise my arm to show her before clutching it back into my side with a pained wince.

I want to complain to her about how fucking much it hurts when suddenly the pain seems to lift a bit. Not completely, but enough to use my arm and shoulder so that I may finally undress.

"How did you do that?" I stare at her in awe.

"It's something you pick up when having lived with Fred and George in one house," She shrugs. "It's just temporary though. It will only work for half an hour and I suggest you get to the Hospital Wing by then. When the pain returns, it comes back gradually until it knocks you off your feet."

"Good to know."

I get changed, take a quick shower and it takes me so much longer than I should. Though the pain is much more bearable now, it still hurts enough to make my movements slower. Also I wasted some time staring at my reddish swollen skin on my shoulder blade when Ginny has gotten into her own shower. When the spell wears off, that's going to hurt like a bitch.

"Are you nearly done?" I hear Ginny call out to me when I get ready to step out of the shower.

"You don't have to wait on me!" I call back to her. "You can head up to the Hospital Wing already, I'll be right behind you."

I know that's where she wants to be right now. She might pretend that Harry getting knocked down didn't affect her, at least not the way it did me, but she's clearly worried about him as well. Plus, I don't really want to be the one to tell him we lost the game.

When she leaves, I turn off the shower and get changed into normal clothes. I've just pulled on my sweater and reach for my coat when I hear the door to the locker room open and close again.

"Did you forget something?" I ask who I assume can only be Ginny. "Or did you not want to-"

I don't finish the sentence when I turn around and realise the person who just entered the girls changing room is not Ginny. It's Blaise Zabini.

"What are you doing here?" I glare at him, not at all happy that he's come in here to make this bad day even worse.

"I felt that I should be present on this joyous occasion, wouldn't you agree?" He looks me up and down which I've almost gotten used to but never ceases to make me feel exposed, despite the many layers of clothes I'm wearing now.

"Did you seriously come here to gloat about Hufflepuff wining?" I gasp at him in disbelief. I mean, I know he's big on me losing but this is seriously ridiculous. "Your petty desire to rub it into my face will have to wait, I'm on my way to the Hospital Wing."

I push past him to get to the door, shoving my bag into his gut which I think might have done more damage to me and my shoulder than it did to the Slytherin but I'm not about to let him know it. As I reach for the door knob, he reaches out his hand to my wrist. Though his grip is not as firmly hostile as usual, I do not appreciate this. And I'm sure to let him know it.

"Let go of me," I hiss.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asks me, releasing my wrist at my own request.

"Like what?" I step back to put a more comfortable space between us.

"Making good on your threat."

"What threat?"

I'm sure I've threatened to actually push Zabini's face in a boiling hot potion a couple of times now but since when do people ask you to mutilate them?

"The stands were a bit far away for even someone with my impeccable hearing to catch what it is exactly you said to your amusingly abysmal Keeper but it certainly looked like a threat to us. Judging on your usual choice in threats, I'd say it was about shoving a particular object up his arse. Perhaps your boot?"

"His broom, actually."

"How innovative. While I'm certain you can't wait to defile innocent Quidditch gear, I'm here to suggest a more sophisticated approach."

"You're here to advise me on how to make McLaggen pay for being the screw-up that he is?" I frown.

Somehow I sincerely doubt that he gives a fuck about whose guts I hate and what I can do to make sure they'll never cross me again. There's nothing in it for him.

"I'm simply here to make sure I haven't wasted five consecutive Saturdays on teaching you a form of magic you'll never intent to resort to."

"You want me to use the Curse on McLaggen?" I frown, finally realising that Zabini's only here for yet another test.

"Why wouldn't you? You wish to frighten him which is the entire purpose of your threat since we both know you won't be shoving anything up his arse. He needs to know that you're willing to harm him as retaliation, without actually having to harm him."

Is it just me, or is that making an awful lot of sense?

"I haven't done any illusions including people," I say.

"You won't have to. Because indeed, you can't. But you've used the Curse plenty of times now on people using hallucinations with objects. You can work with that."

"I've only tried them on you."

"And you have gotten less dreadful at them. I'm confident you can manage a successful one on someone else. Especially since the victim is nowhere near to my intelligence."

"I wish I could argue with that."

But I can't. Because after today, I am convinced McLaggen has the IQ of a parrot. He can use words but none of them make sense.

"What did you have in mind?" I ask him.

That victorious little smirk creeps up on his face once more but I realise I don't hate it as much if his sadistic urges aren't being released on me. I quite like having a partner in crime who's crazier than I am. It's refreshing.

He regains a grip on my wrist, not forceful at all now, and steers me out of the changing rooms, onto the Quidditch field. I'm just about to ask him what the plan is when I spot Cormac McLaggen, dragging a garbage bag behind him on the pitch. This couldn't have played out better. I just want to get this over quickly now, the pain is starting to ebb back into my body.

"The Weaslette forced him to clean all the trash off the stands. Madame Hooch happily agreed. That leaves us as the only three people left."

"What of the other players?" I glance in the direction of the changing rooms. The students sitting in the stands might have cleared soon after the game but they all had to get changed first.

"The two remaining players in the Hufflepuff changing rooms developed an acute fear of showers, ten minutes ago."

"You are messed up." I can't help the small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth when I tell him that.

"Takes one to know one," He simply says before getting all business-like again. "Now, point your wand at him and make him imagine the trunk with the Quidditch balls standing right over there, lid open."

"What good is that?" I frown.

That hardly sounds like a fit punishment. It's not a punishment at all.

"The realistic aspect of the hallucinations is all in the details. Do as I say."

I figure it is better not to fight him on this. But as I try to raise my wand arm, a pain shoots right through it. Damn, the half hour must already be over by now. The spell Ginny used won't work for much longer.

"Are you deaf?" Zabini scowls.

"No, but I did just get smashed against the stands!" I hiss.

He gives me an exasperated sigh – no inclination of concern whatsoever, or empathy, or humanity – before coming to stand behind me and grip my arm.

"Raise your arm like that," He says and the breath of his words blows through the little hairs at the base of my neck. "How do you not know how to properly point your wand? Your elbow needs to make a corner of 160 degrees, your arm cannot be fully stretched. And turn your wrist so that your thumb is on top. This is something you learn as soon as you get your wand."

"I know that," I grunt. "I'm in pain."

That's the only reason I'm not assuming the perfect wand position. Because I totally do that every other day…

"Suck it up," he commands into my ear.

"Has anyone ever told you what a patient, encouraging teacher you are?" I mock him but he simply ignores me. He does that a lot.

"Make him imagine the trunk standing over there. Not yet. Let me walk you through the scenario first. Then, the lid flies open and the two bludgers burst out of the trunk. One will hit the ground the first time there, and the second bludger there," He points with his other hand, consequently restricting me closer to his chest, to two spots on either side of McLaggen, both seven feet away from him. "He'll probably be surprised but not move yet. Then the bludgers will hit the ground there and there, only four and three feet away. He'll make a run for it and that's when you'll make one of the bludgers drop two feet in front of him whichever direction he flees. He'll stumble backwards, you'll make the second bludger's impact right behind him. And for the grand finale, you make a bludger miss him by an inch and direct the other one straight to his head."

"What?!" I turn my face to his, which is unusually close. I could count his freckles if he had any. "He won't feel that, he'll know it's fake."

"And you'll stop it right before it supposedly hits him. You just want him to think that it will." He continues. "Then you'll make the bludgers fly back to their trunk and reveal that it was you who directed them to attack him."

"Showing him I can hurt him, without actually hurting him," I nod, understanding what the use of the Curse will do to McLaggen mentally. I like it.

"That's the moment you have to rely on your acting skills. I know how much you like verbal threats." He breathes into my ear. "Make sure you mention how the impact of a well-aimed bludger at full speed can smash in a skull."

"It's all in the details," I mutter to myself, trying to memorise this important lesson.

"Don't forget to envision the impact of the bludgers against the ground as well, he needs to clearly hear it. You can manipulate all his senses excepts touch. As long as you make it real in your mind, it will be real in his as well." He pulls away from me, making me support my own arm in the air which doesn't hurt as much as it should because of this strange adrenaline rush.

I take a deep breath before pushing my magical essence towards McLaggen, envisioning everything Zabini told me to. I watch the guy drop the garbage bag he had been dragging around and stare in shock at something that only he and I can see. Knowing it isn't real though, makes it nearly amusing to watch him sprint across the field when the bludger hits the ground only three feet away from him. As the other one cuts off his escape route, his stumble backwards that makes him fall flat on his arse brings a little grin to my face. McLaggen lets out a frightened squeal when the bludger misses him by an inch and screams his guts out when the other one is heading right for his head. As he pushes his arms in front of his face in a desperate final attempt to protect himself, I let him imagine the sound of the bludgers flying back to the trunk and the lid closing, before dropping the illusion completely. Now it's just him and me on an otherwise empty Quidditch field.

I let the scared guy take his time to pick up the courage to dare dropping his arms and opening his eyes as I enjoy this moment. I feel strong right now. None of it was real but to think that I can turn confident Cormac McLaggen, with all his bravado and macho attitude, into the blubbering mess I have in front of me now, makes me experience a sense of power that I never have before.

I've told Zabini that this feeling I'm experiencing now is part of the reason that I wanted him to teach me but never have I felt it as strongly and satisfying as right now. I am in control of the situation and the person while I never had to sacrifice any of my morals. Because it's not real.

Slowly, McLaggen dares a peek at his surroundings, instantly spotting me across the field. As he notices the wand in my hand, not realising the trunk is no longer where it had been, and concludes that I was the one who send the 'not real but very vivid' bludgers on him, he looks at me with an angry expression.

"Are you insane?!" He rages before getting up on his feet and storming into my direction.

"Maybe I am," I shrug nonchalantly. "Either way, do you really want to risk pissing off a crazy witch?"

The simple assessment makes him stop dead in his track. For the first time ever, I think, he looks at me as if finally seeing me. And since I just told him that what he's looking at might be a psycho witch, he doesn't seem to be eager to come too close anymore.

"You could have seriously hurt me!"

"I don't see what's wrong with that. After all, you did knock me into the stands. And my brother in the face with a bludger. Did you know by the way, that with the speed and aim I used to send the bludger on your head, it would have been strong enough to crack a skull."

He's looks at me as if he's really believing me to be crazy now. Good, I've always known people fear the crazy more than anything. Why do you think everyone's so terrified of Voldemort? Because he's a lunatic.

"You should be grateful that I didn't let it hit you."

"Grateful?!" He spits out.

"Yes. Because in my eyes you have deserved anything I see fit doing to you. But I'm feeling particularly forgiving today."

Not really but it serves to pile up on the crazy accusations.

"Well, I'm not feeling the forgiveness right now. When I tell a professor what you did, you-"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I glare at him. "After all, there is unlimited access to bludgers at this school. Not to mention poison ingredients, a Forbidden Section in the library and don't even get me started on the things I can do with just my wand."

Even though he's several feet away from me, I can visibly watch him gulp. He's scared. Wonderful.

"Now here's what you're going to do. Weasley will be back on the team in a few days and you will gracefully accept being dismissed from the team. You will not bother the team, you will not talk to anyone on the team. Especially not Harry. If I hear you pestering him about anything, I will be paying you another visit. You might also want to fly under my radar for a while. Understood?"

"Fine," He hisses angrily, before stomping off the field, dragging the garbage bag behind him.

That was… victorious. For me, that is. Not so much for McLaggen but as I think is clear now, I don't give a fuck about that.

"I always thought you were a good actress," Zabini smiles at me when he comes out of his hiding spot behind the stands. "You make a very convincing crazy."

"Who said I was acting?" I smirk before picking up my bag and walking back to the castle as well.

The pain in my shoulder and arm is throbbing very strongly now and I want to be in close proximity to Madam Pomfrey when the pain comes back in full force.

I'm so content with having scared off McLaggen that I don't even mind Zabini walking side by side with me off the field. If I want to get better at this, and I do, I need to stay on amicable terms with him anyway.

"I think you might be ready for more complicated hallucinations," He wonders out loud and I'm not sure if he's expecting some kind of response from me. "Perhaps not quite people-hallucinations yet but you've worked with sight and sound now. Perhaps we can try taste-related illusions next."

Surprisingly, Zabini appears to be as pleased with this success as I am, since he continues to babble about progress and exercises the entire way back. I let him do his thing and ramble on about how he's seriously considering taking on another pupil for comparison purposes, how we might need to move our lessons to a more populated location than the boat house and how he'd like to keep tabs on McLaggen for the next few days to see if he's figured out somehow that it wasn't actually real.

I need most of my energy to focus on bearing the pain that gradually, though very uncomfortably, returns but when we walk to the Great Entrance of Hogwarts, I've had enough time to figure out something else as well.

"Five," I say to Zabini when he's already leaving in the direction of the dungeons, to the Slytherin common room and I've taken the first five steps on the stairs to the first floor, to the Hospital Wing.

He stops on his route and turns back to me. Not saying anything, or giving me some kind of inclination that he understands what I'm talking about so I continue.

"You said you didn't want to have wasted five Saturdays. We only met up for four."

And still he doesn't show any surprise or comprehension on those frozen features.

"You were at the boat house this morning, weren't you?" His face is still as unreadable as ever but since he hasn't laughed at my assumption yet, I'd say I'm right. "Why? Why are you doing any of this? If all you gain from our arrangement is more research material, why go to such lengths?"

I get that I put him on the spot when I demanded for these lessons. And that he only agreed to them because I promised him unlimited access to the mind of one of his victims which is a very tempting offer for someone as passionate about his study as Blaise Zabini. But there's no reason for him to have come to me today, to make sure that I grasped this offered learning opportunity, nor for him to go to the boat house after our little argument and knowing that, because of the Quidditch match, I would most likely not show up. I can't make any sense of his motives, and I'm so tired of trying to guess.

He gives me a look that I would classify between a glare and condescending exasperation as he takes the first two steps on the stairs as well, coming very close to the edge of my personal bubble, again.

"You're very slow at figuring things out, aren't you?" He drawls.

"Perhaps if you were to be a bit clearer," I scoff.

"I have made myself abundantly clear. Spelled it out for you on more than one occasion." He takes two steps closer which leaves us almost nose to nose. "There is a reason you are still in one piece after some of the stunts you've pulled, Danny Potter. I don't particularly enjoy being poisoned."

"Mallowsweet isn't poison! It's-"

"I find you intriguing. And rather attractive during the moments you don't run your mouth like a plebeian sailor."

I hold in my breath as I try to process what he's telling me. Is he…?

"Are you confessing something to me?"

Because as far as love confessions go, this is the worst one yet.

"I am not professing some undying love for you. Physical attraction does not require any kinds of romantic feelings. Your character is more annoying than it is appealing, though it has helped me greatly to come up with creative ways to shut you up. Mind taking a guess to what the primary one is?"

He is standing so close to me that his warm, minty breath washes over my face with every word he utters and it's making it almost hard to focus on what he's actually saying. He finds me attractive. I would be lying if I say that didn't stroke my ego. But do I find him attractive in return? With his chocolate skin, his big brown eyes that stare right into your very core, making you feel as though he is undressing you with his eyes, those high aristocratic cheekbones, that smooth velvet voice, what's not to find attractive? Those are all superficial things though, shouldn't there be more to it than that?

"I think you're an asshole," I say because I feel the need to point that out.

"And I think you're a bitch," He simply says. "I fear you're misunderstanding my intentions. I feel no desire to date you. I don't wish to make an honourable woman out of you. I wish to do very dishonourable things to you."

Is it very wrong that such a promise makes me gasp for air?

"Let us get one thing straight. I am not a nice guy. I will not be considerate towards you. I won't sacrifice anything for your comfort. I don't care about your feelings and I will not be gentle. I am nothing like your usual charming Prince Hufflepuff. Instead, I intend to take everything I want from you, and in return give you the opportunity to take what you want from me."

I continue to stare at him with bulging eyes because for the first time, ever, I don't know what to say. What do you say when a Slytherin comes up to you and all but says he wants to use you for his own pleasure?

"I suggest you let me know if this is something you'd be interested in. I'll see you in class."

He turns around and takes the flight of stairs down to the dungeons, leaving me standing in the middle of the Great Entrance, confused and possibly a little intrigued.