My Team Mate is Trying to Kill Me!
Chapter 3
Harry and the England team were in the changing rooms once more; England vs. Australia. Harry kept an eye on his Firebolt this time, to avoid a replay of the last game. It was two weeks on from that day and they were one of the highest in the international table.
"Right," said Wood. " We're facing a team that's better than us and have older, more experienced players. But we'll win today and show them what we can do."
They lined up by the door leading to the pitch. Harry gripped his broom firmly and glared at Malfoy, who was standing at his side.
"You're dead, Potter," he muttered. "Death Eater," whispered Harry. Malfoy's eyes widened in fear before he said coolly "You're in for it now."
They sped onto the pitch with their brooms. The Australians were wearing blue Quidditch robes and were very tanned.
Harry scanned the pitch. The Weasleys were there again. Harry's fear of this match melted away and Ron's voice came into his head. "Malfoy is a scumbag!"
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game began. Ludo Bagman was commentating again.
"And it's England with the Quaffle. Johnson for England. Oh no hit by a bludger! And it's Australia now. Irwin with the Quaffle. He's pelting up there. Dodges 1. sorry 2 bludgers! He's going to sc. saved by Wood!"
Twenty minutes passed and England scored five times. Harry had caught 1or 2 glances of the snitch, but with worrying about the bludgers sent towards him every few seconds, he hadn't caught it yet.
Malfoy's plan was failing. They had won one match, who cared about this one? He had missed Harry with most of his shots, now it was time for his ultimate payback.
Staring straight into the stupid face of poor poor Ronald Weasley, he batted it towards him. It was fool proof. Either Weasley got hit, or Potter would try and get himself hit to protect Ron. Either way, Malfoy would be happy.
Harry saw the bludger as if in slow motion. Ron's face confronted with fear. He raced towards it, determined to save Ron. He didn't care about pain; this was his best friend, right?
Harry practically threw himself before the bludger. Ron only saw a streak of white colliding with black.
" And it's the Aussie's with the Quaffle. They're going to. What's up with Potter?"
Suddenly everyone noticed Harry. He was only holding on with his legs and his body was practically flopping all over the place. He was slowly descending to the ground.
" And this is Potter's second game, and twice he's been injured."
" He's going to fall!" screamed Hermione. Harry fell, half dazed already, onto the still hard ground.
Harry came round, this time not lying on cold, hard ground. Not surrounded by deafening cheers but on a soft surface, in a quiet place.
' I'm dead,' he thought. He opened his eyes a fraction. Blue. The only colour his eyes would allow him to see. It was the colour of the sky, wasn't it?
But as his eyes grew accustomed to the blue, he saw red and again a soothing hand on his forehead.
"Where am I?" he gasped. " St Mungo's" said a voice. A familiar voice.
The Weasley's were gathered around his bed. Harry lay there, aware about everyone staring at him, as if he were dead.
" Am I dead?" he asked. " No, Harry," said Mrs Weasley. "You are alive, thankfully." " We thought you were though," said Ron. " When you didn't wake up at the stadium. I mean, you've been here for a couple of days."
Harry lifted himself up and put his glasses on. " What happened?" he said. "Harry," said Mrs Weasley. "Don't do anything like that again."
"Do what?" he said. Why were people accusing him of doing something he couldn't even remember doing?
" Risk yourself. You know, for one of us," finished Ron. " I did what?" " You've just suffered a concussion, Harry," said Mrs Weasley. " That's probably why you can't remember. But you took the bludger aiming for Ron."
It was as if Harry's whole head had lit up. He could remember. The bludger. Ron. The hit.
" Malfoy," he said quietly. " Sorry, Harry?" said Mrs Weasley. " Malfoy," he repeated. " He's trying to kill me. He knew that I would try to save Ron. And if I didn't, he would hit Ron instead." "Harry, said Mrs Weasley worriedly. "You're just wrong in the head."
"I'M NOT!!!"
The room went deadly quiet. The other patients were listening and staring at him in fear. One of them whispered something to a healer.
"Mr Potter," said the healer. "I've been asked for you to be moved into a closed ward. You're disturbing the other patients."
"NO," he shouted. " I'M NOT MAD. HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME!"
She magicked Harry onto a stretcher and started to move him away.
"NO, PLEASE! RON, MRS WEASLEY, HELP ME! MALFOY IS TRYING TO KILL ME!"
Chapter 3
Harry and the England team were in the changing rooms once more; England vs. Australia. Harry kept an eye on his Firebolt this time, to avoid a replay of the last game. It was two weeks on from that day and they were one of the highest in the international table.
"Right," said Wood. " We're facing a team that's better than us and have older, more experienced players. But we'll win today and show them what we can do."
They lined up by the door leading to the pitch. Harry gripped his broom firmly and glared at Malfoy, who was standing at his side.
"You're dead, Potter," he muttered. "Death Eater," whispered Harry. Malfoy's eyes widened in fear before he said coolly "You're in for it now."
They sped onto the pitch with their brooms. The Australians were wearing blue Quidditch robes and were very tanned.
Harry scanned the pitch. The Weasleys were there again. Harry's fear of this match melted away and Ron's voice came into his head. "Malfoy is a scumbag!"
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game began. Ludo Bagman was commentating again.
"And it's England with the Quaffle. Johnson for England. Oh no hit by a bludger! And it's Australia now. Irwin with the Quaffle. He's pelting up there. Dodges 1. sorry 2 bludgers! He's going to sc. saved by Wood!"
Twenty minutes passed and England scored five times. Harry had caught 1or 2 glances of the snitch, but with worrying about the bludgers sent towards him every few seconds, he hadn't caught it yet.
Malfoy's plan was failing. They had won one match, who cared about this one? He had missed Harry with most of his shots, now it was time for his ultimate payback.
Staring straight into the stupid face of poor poor Ronald Weasley, he batted it towards him. It was fool proof. Either Weasley got hit, or Potter would try and get himself hit to protect Ron. Either way, Malfoy would be happy.
Harry saw the bludger as if in slow motion. Ron's face confronted with fear. He raced towards it, determined to save Ron. He didn't care about pain; this was his best friend, right?
Harry practically threw himself before the bludger. Ron only saw a streak of white colliding with black.
" And it's the Aussie's with the Quaffle. They're going to. What's up with Potter?"
Suddenly everyone noticed Harry. He was only holding on with his legs and his body was practically flopping all over the place. He was slowly descending to the ground.
" And this is Potter's second game, and twice he's been injured."
" He's going to fall!" screamed Hermione. Harry fell, half dazed already, onto the still hard ground.
Harry came round, this time not lying on cold, hard ground. Not surrounded by deafening cheers but on a soft surface, in a quiet place.
' I'm dead,' he thought. He opened his eyes a fraction. Blue. The only colour his eyes would allow him to see. It was the colour of the sky, wasn't it?
But as his eyes grew accustomed to the blue, he saw red and again a soothing hand on his forehead.
"Where am I?" he gasped. " St Mungo's" said a voice. A familiar voice.
The Weasley's were gathered around his bed. Harry lay there, aware about everyone staring at him, as if he were dead.
" Am I dead?" he asked. " No, Harry," said Mrs Weasley. "You are alive, thankfully." " We thought you were though," said Ron. " When you didn't wake up at the stadium. I mean, you've been here for a couple of days."
Harry lifted himself up and put his glasses on. " What happened?" he said. "Harry," said Mrs Weasley. "Don't do anything like that again."
"Do what?" he said. Why were people accusing him of doing something he couldn't even remember doing?
" Risk yourself. You know, for one of us," finished Ron. " I did what?" " You've just suffered a concussion, Harry," said Mrs Weasley. " That's probably why you can't remember. But you took the bludger aiming for Ron."
It was as if Harry's whole head had lit up. He could remember. The bludger. Ron. The hit.
" Malfoy," he said quietly. " Sorry, Harry?" said Mrs Weasley. " Malfoy," he repeated. " He's trying to kill me. He knew that I would try to save Ron. And if I didn't, he would hit Ron instead." "Harry, said Mrs Weasley worriedly. "You're just wrong in the head."
"I'M NOT!!!"
The room went deadly quiet. The other patients were listening and staring at him in fear. One of them whispered something to a healer.
"Mr Potter," said the healer. "I've been asked for you to be moved into a closed ward. You're disturbing the other patients."
"NO," he shouted. " I'M NOT MAD. HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME!"
She magicked Harry onto a stretcher and started to move him away.
"NO, PLEASE! RON, MRS WEASLEY, HELP ME! MALFOY IS TRYING TO KILL ME!"