Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, only the Archard family and other OCs belong to me. The French words/phrases will be italicized, as well as the spells. Reviews are appreciated!
Chapter 13: Attack of the Bludger
Esme POV
The pleasant weather from yesterday had completely vanished by the next morning. There was a heavy sort of mugginess in the air, the promise of a rainy storm. In preparation for the rainfall during the match, Daphne and I ensured we both had our gloves and rain cloaks before we left for the dormitory. I also grabbed my bag with both my Omnioculars and the enchantable banner Papa had bought for me in Diagon Alley. It was already charmed to cheer on Slytherin, but also Alaric. I would be supporting my brother, regardless of what anyone (Parkinson) had to say about it.
I still had a bad feeling brewing in my stomach about today's match, but all I could do was pray to Mother Magic that no one would be seriously injured and have my Omnioculars ready to capture the memory if something were to happen again. While the weather was not one to inspire hope and positive feelings, everyone was still buzzing with excitement for the first Quidditch match of the season.
Daphne and I joined Theo and Blaise in the common room before the four of us left for breakfast together. The great hall was already filled with chatter when we arrived as students bustled about. Alaric and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were huddled together near the end of their long table. While they all appeared quite focused, I still managed to catch my brother's eyes and sent him an encouraging smile. Alaric smiled confidently in return and nodded back, looking entirely assured in his team's victory; though some of his teammates didn't appear to share his confidence, as Oliver looked quite tense beside Alaric.
Meanwhile, the Slytherin Quidditch team were also huddled together at our table, though they all looked rather relaxed and were radiating a smug sort of confidence that bordered on arrogance. After what my brothers had to say yesterday, I was no longer sure that Slytherin had a guaranteed victory with Lord Malfoy's gifts.
Many seemed to share my thoughts as several bets were being made amongst the older students alternating between Slytherin and Gryffindor victory.
"Who do you think will win today's match?" I asked the table in general as I spread some marmalade onto my toast.
"Obviously Slytherin," crooned Parkinson - her eyes firmly fixated on Draco, who was in the center of the Slytherin team huddle further up the table.
"Between their talents and latest brooms, they are practically guaranteed victory," Bulstrode unsurprisingly agreed with Parkinson, while Davis simply nodded her agreement.
"Draco certainly has talent, but no one can deny Potter does as well," interjected Theo. "Honestly, I think it's anyone's match today."
"Though, word is people are leaning towards a Slytherin victory despite Potter catching the Snitch," said Blaise.
As Daphne stirred some sugar into her oatmeal she said, "Whoever wins I just hope they do it quickly. I'd rather not sit through a rainstorm if possible."
"Oui," I agreed, now slightly worried over whether my banner was impervious to water or not.
"It may not even rain today," said Theo. "You can't ever really know here."
As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch pitch. The stands were crowded as most, if not all, of the students squeezed their way into their respective sections. The six Slytherin First-Years were huddled together in front of us closest to the wooden barrier, leaving us all safely surrounded by various Upper-Years - it seemed the prefects were determined not to have another brawl between Houses.
Everyone was buzzing in excitement, and while I still felt worried for Alaric's safety, I was filled with less negativity than I had been last year. All three of my brothers had avoided being injured, so I felt slightly reassured they would be alright. I carefully held my Omnioculars in my left hand (Theo hadn't said a word about me keeping his old set since I gifted him a new pair this past Yule), while holding the handle for my charmed banner in my right. Right now it was green and silver with 'Go Slytherin!' scrawled across it, but all I had to do was utter Mutatio, and it would change colors to red and silver with 'Go Alaric Go!' scrawled across it.
Suddenly, as if following some unseen cue, the Slytherin team came bursting out of the team changing room. They zoomed like comets through the air, maintaining a straight v-formation as they lapped around the pitch. Draco stood out amongst the other players as he was so much smaller than the others, especially Heir Flint's height and bulk.
We all cheered loudly for our team, but I still kept my focus on the other team's changing room. The second I saw a flash of scarlet I muttered 'Mutatio', and cheered for Alaric as the Gryffindor team flew out onto the pitch. I ignored the many Slytherins who were now booing at the Gryffindor team as I continued to cheer for my brother. As each team settled into their starting positions, another quickly muttered 'Mutatio' switched my banner back to cheering for my House.
Madame Hooch took up her position as referee in the center of the pitch. She blew her whistle in one loud blast and released the Quaffle straight up into the air. The roar of the crowd was deafening as the two teams converged on the falling Quaffle. It was grabbed by one of the Slytherin Chasers, who immediately took off towards the Gryffindor goalposts.
"The Quaffle is taken by Cassius Warrington of Slytherin - he's easily outpacing the Gryffindor Chasers with his bribe of broom," announced Lee Jordan.
"Jordan!" snapped Professor McGonagall.
"Sorry, Professor."
Theo scoffed beside me. "Seriously, the other Houses just won't let the brooms go. Any of the other well-off families could donate brooms if they so desired. It's not our fault Lord Malfoy was generous enough to do so."
I merely hummed in response as I kept my eyes fixed on the match.
"Warrington passes to Chaser Marcus Flint of Slytherin - Flint throws - and Keeper Wood…misses. Slytherin scores!"
One of the female Gryffindor Chasers swooped low and caught the falling Quaffle before taking off for the other side of the pitch, Alaric and the other Chaser remaining close by.
"Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor takes off with the Quaffle. She dodges a dive from Flint - passing to Alaric Archard of Gryffindor. Chasers Pucey and Warrington of Slytherin go in for the attack - A Bludger is sent their way by Beater Fred or George Weasley. Wait, what? The Bludger changes direction midair and flies straight for Seeker Potter of Gryffindor!"
"That can't be normal?" I questioned, as I shifted to watching the strange Bludger through my Omnioculars.
"No, it's not," replied Theo, a deep frown marring his face. "Bludgers never concentrate on one player like this, it's job is to try and unseat as many flyers as possible. Someone's likely spelled the Bludger."
Potter managed to quickly avoid the speeding Bludger and one of the Weasley twins hit it hard with his bat and sent it shooting towards Draco, who hovered high up in the air nearby. However, once again the Bludger unnaturally swerved off target and shot back at Potter.
Theo was right, the Bludger was spelled and was targeting Potter. I doubted it would be Lockhart - the wizard couldn't even stop Cornish pixies. He was too incompetent to do something like this. However, this left the culprit to be a complete mystery, as, unlike last year's incident, the caster wouldn't need to maintain eye contact or even continuously recite the spell phrase to ensure the spell was maintained for something like this. I had no way of finding even a hint of who could be behind this.
Potter continued to quickly fly across the pitch as he attempted to outfly the Bludger whistling along behind him. Both Weasley twins were now focused on protecting him from the determined Bludger as the match continued on. The Gryffindor team appeared to be distracted, Alaric especially, as Heir Flint actually managed to steal the Quaffle away from him.
I flinched as I suddenly felt a cold raindrop land on my head. Internally grumbling at the chill now racing down my spine, I pulled up my hood as the sprinkle turned into a misting drizzle.
"Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero. Potter continues to dodge his new determined best mate as Fred and George Weasley work in tandem to beat the mad Bludger sane!"
"Is it just me or does Jordan sound like he's oddly enjoying this?" asked Daphne.
"No, it's not just you," said Blaise. "Watching Potter jammed between the Weasley twins and dodging their flailing limbs is entertaining. And it's keeping Potter from catching the Snitch, so Slytherin might completely obliterate Gryffindor in their victory."
"Chasers Bell of Gryffindor and Warrington of Slytherin grapple for the Quaffle - hang on! Archard abandons his teammate and is flying fast for Potter. What is he…Oh! The other Bludger is speeding from above Potter and the Weasleys!"
My eyes snapped towards the group at the far side of the pitch. Everything seemed to slow down as I saw Alaric flying with determination towards the incoming Bludger - fear froze my heart in my chest.
"Alaric!" I screamed as Alaric put himself between Potter and the Bludger, looking determined to keep the younger boy safe.
"Archard is hit and sent flying!" Jordan's voice echoed throughout the stadium.
Alaric was completely knocked off his broom and was free-falling fast towards the ground. I didn't think he was even conscious anymore. I released the breath I didn't know I was holding when Alaric's fall was suddenly halted and he gently levitated onto the ground.
"Alaric…" I practically sobbed as I worried for the state my brother was in.
Daphne wrapped her arms around me. "He'll be okay, Esme. Madam Pomfrey will heal him and he'll be right as rain in no time."
"We can leave right now if you want," offered Theo as he gripped onto my hand in comfort.
I was going to accept when, to my utter relief, Alaric got to his feet on his own. He appeared to be disoriented as he seemed to sway slightly but remained firmly on his feet.
Jordan's voice rang out. "Slytherin scores once again! Though more importantly, Archard appears to be okay after his fine example of bravery and chivalry!"
Professor McGonagall didn't chide Jordan for his comments this time - she likely agreed with him.
Madame Hooch's whistle sounded. "Gryffindor time out!"
Something happened as both Bludgers froze midair and hovered in place.
"What was that?" I asked, never having seen this before.
"Hooch cast a spell," said Blaise.
"It's similar to a stasis spell," explained Theo, his hand still gripping mine. "It holds the Bludgers in place during a time out so they don't try to hit anyone while they're on the ground."
"What I want to know is why are they only now halting things?" questioned Daphne - which was a very good question.
"It's one of the rules of Quidditch. Matches are only halted for official time outs, otherwise they keep going until the Snitch is caught," explained Blaise. "Hooch can't even try to disenchant the Bludger as it would technically count as interfering."
"But someone has already interfered since the Bludger has clearly been tampered with," I pointed out.
"I mean, you're not wrong," agreed Blaise with a careless shrug. "But clearly the professors aren't seeing it that way since they didn't stop the match."
"Though it is odd that Dumbledore isn't trying to protect his golden boy," Daphne pointed out. Overhead, the rain began to fall more heavily.
Madame Hooch suddenly blew her whistle twice, signalling the two teams to break apart and resume their positions on the pitch. I was slightly reassured to see Alaric hovering between the other two Gryffindor Chasers.
At the signal of Madame Hooch's whistle, the game resumed as the players converged and took off once again. Unlike earlier though, Fred and George weren't flying close to Potter. He was looping, spiralling, and zigzagging through the air intricately as he dodged the Bludger that was once again completely concentrated on knocking him off his broom.
It was both impressive and concerning to watch Potter maneuver away from the aggressive Bludger. Several students were laughing in the crowd. While some were snickering over how idiotic Potter appeared, others were reluctantly impressed as Potter continued to show a knack for maneuverability and flying techniques. Draco continued to fly and hover near Potter, his mouth moving as he was speaking, but the rain drowned out whatever he was saying - though it was likely taunts and mean quips aimed at Potter.
While the two Seekers remained high in the air, the rest of the players focused entirely on their part of the match. Gryffindor had managed to finally score, earning sixty points for their efforts; however, they were still behind Slytherin's lead of ninety points.
"Warrington passes the Quaffle to Pucey who zooms straight for where Keeper Wood guards his goalposts. He throws - quickly dodging the rogue Bludger Potter once again evades. Wood misses. Slytherin scores!"
I alternated between carefully watching Alaric fly back and forth across the pitch and Potter loop and swoop through the air. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as fear and worry continued to cause my stomach to churn uneasily.
"Flint attempts to steal the Quaffle from Bell of Gryffindor, but is cut off by Archard - nice defense Alaric!" cheered Jordan.
"Jordan!"
"Right, sorry. Anyways, Bell passes to Spinnet - Hang on, Potter is hovering. Has he spotted the Snitch?"
WHAM.
CRACK.
I winced as the sound of Potter's arm breaking echoed across the pitch after the Bludger smashed into him.
"Ouch~, that had to hurt," commented Jordan, saying exactly what we were all thinking. "But Potter stays on his broom as he swerves to avoid the Bludger's next attack! He seems to be flying with purpose despite his injury. He's heading right for Seeker Malfoy!"
As Potter got closer and closer to Draco, I wondered if he could even see Draco or if the Gryffindor was out of control. But then I caught the flash of gold and realized the Snitch was hovering just over and behind Draco's shoulder, and he had yet to notice. Draco careened out of Potter's way as Potter reached out with his non-injured arm, now flying without a single hand on his broom.
"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch!" yelled Jordan. "Gryffindor wins!"
Gryffindor roared in celebration while Slytherin all moaned in defeat. Meanwhile, Potter had completely collapsed into the mud off his broom, appearing to have lost all energy now that the match was officially over. I sighed in relief that it was finally over and leaned into Daphne's side as I felt utterly drained. Would there ever be a normal Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match? I wondered to myself; though admittedly it was mostly just Potter, trouble always seemed to revolve around him. Perhaps there was something more to the gossip that Potter had brought misfortune to Hogwarts.
"Come on, let's get out of this rain and dry up in the common room," called out Theo as he picked up my banner - I hadn't even realized I dropped at some point during the match.
"You guys can go ahead," I said as we carefully made our way down the rain-slicked wooden steps. "I'm going to the hospital wing to check on my brother. Blaire will make sure he'll get looked over even if she has to drag him by his ear."
"I can go with you if you'd like," offered Daphne.
"Non, I'll be fine, ma amie. Merci beaucoup, though."
Once we reached the castle, I broke away from the throng of Slytherin students heading for the dungeons and made my way towards the hospital wing. Even if Alaric wasn't there yet, I knew he'd be along eventually, so I was determined to wait however long was necessary. I needed to know if he was alright.
Once he was confirmed as being fine, then I would unleash the tears I was holding back. He had really scared me today, and I swore to Mother Magic Alaric would know how worried I was and he'd better apologize, or else I would unleash the watery eyed guilt trip. That was, if Blaire didn't get to him first.
Oui = yes
Madame = Mrs
Non = no
Ma amie = my friend (female)
Merci beaucoup = thank you very much
Extra POVS
Oliver POV
As soon as Hooch blew her whistle for the time out, I abandoned the goalposts and flew straight to where 'Laric was standing on the ground of the pitch. When I saw him take the hit for Harry, my heart lodged itself into my throat. I was completely distracted, allowing Warrington to easily score, as I stared at Alaric's crumpled form.
It felt like eons before he staggered to his feet (clearly disoriented) and I remembered to breathe again. When I saw one of the Weasleys waving at me with the time out hand sign I didn't hesitate to signal Hooch. We needed to regroup as a team, but mainly I needed to check on Alaric - very few people take a hit from a Bludger and are hunky-dory.
I quickly dismounted and supported 'Laric's weight to stop his slight swaying. "Alright there, mate?"
"Oui, just a bit whirled from the fall. My side is a bit stiff, but I don't think anything's broken."
Uncaring that we were in plain view of practically the entire school, I reached to lift Alaric's robes to check on him, but he firmly halted my attempts. "Ollie, stop, I'm fine. I promise."
I wasn't ready to drop it, but the rest of the team landed and huddled up close to us and seeing the twins caused my worry to shift to anger. "What the bloody hell is going on?!" My grip on Alaric being the only thing keeping me from attempting to shake one or both of the redheaded twins. "Where were your heads when Alaric took a Bludger to his side?"
"We were stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," angrily replied the twin on the left. "Someone's fixed it, it won't leave Harry alone if you hadn't noticed. It hasn't gone after anyone else all match. The Slytherin's must have done something to it."
"The Bludgers were kept locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice and none of the Slytherins have whipped their wands out - they don't need to when they're completely flattening us and you two aren't doing your jobs!"
The other twin spoke up as he placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Look we're sorry, Alaric, we didn't see the second Bludger, but that other Bludger is scarily attentive towards Harry. It's taking both of us to keep it from braining him."
"I'm fine everyone, I can keep playing. I'll take a bruised torso over Harry getting a concussion at best," Alaric spoke up as he moved away from my hold, showing he could stand solidly on his own. "Oliver. Fred and George are right to protect Harry, he's our only chance of winning the match at this point. If he gets taken out then we have no one to catch the Snitch."
I was ready to argue back when Harry interrupted. "Listen, with the two of you flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue Bludger."
"Don't be thick," said the twin on the right. "It'll take your head off!"
"I understand what you mean Harry, but you'll be seriously risking your physical safety," said Alaric, concern thickly colouring his voice.
I, however, was looking between Harry and the Weasleys. If Harry thought he could handle it, then we might just have a chance against Slytherin.
"Oliver, this is insane," Alicia chimed in. "You can't be considering this. Let's just ask for an inquiry and-"
"-That would mean forfeiting the match because there's zero possibility of Flint consenting to end the match!" I interrupted her, frustrated at the situation we were in. I didn't want anyone else getting hurt, but I refused to admit defeat against Flint - that smarmy git.
"I agree with Oliver," Harry said as pushed himself into the center of our huddle. "We're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger." Harry rounded on me. "Come on, Oliver, let me do this. I can do it!"
"This is all your fault," snapped the twin on the left. "You put all this pressure on him."
Any further discussion was halted when Hooch blew her whistle twice in warning - we were running out of time. Staring into Harry's determined green eyes, I made my decision. "All right, you all heard him. Fred, George, leave him alone and let him deal with Bludger on his own. This may be our only shot at winning this."
The others grumbled their agreement and climbed back onto their brooms. Alaric quickly summoned his broom, but before I could join the others he grabbed my arm. Turning back towards him I saw the fist he was holding out. "Fly smart."
Taking the reassurance he was offering, I met his fist with my own. "Fly fast."
It was time to win.
Draco POV
The door to the locker room had barely closed before Marcus rounded on me, suddenly looking far bigger than he usually does. "What in Circe's name was that?" he practically roared.
I flinched back at the sudden volume but steeled myself - I was Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, and Malfoys do not cower.
Flint didn't wait for a response before he continued, though he did start pacing back and forth. "I know what that was - it was you letting your rivalry with Potter completely and utterly distract you during the match! The Snitch was bloody fluttering around your head and you still missed it, you didn't even notice it!"
None of the other boys were paying us any mind, turning their backs to us as Marcus continued to lay into me.
"This should've been an easy victory! Somebody did us a favour spelling that Bludger to go after Potter. Yet you spurned the advantage given, and bloody wasted all that time you could've used to catch the Snitch to mock Potter!"
Marcus finally stopped shouting but remained just as worked up as his chest continued to rise and fall quickly. I wanted to defend myself against his words, but despite my stinging pride I knew he was right; I was distracted and stupidly wasted my opportunity to beat Potter. Father would be disappointed in me if he saw my performance today.
He suddenly turned his back to me. "Either get your act together or you're off the team, Draco." While his volume had greatly decreased, his words had hit harder.
The rest of the team completely left me alone after that, leaving me to change and return to the castle on my own. The entire time I stewed over Marcus' words and what happened. I'd prove to him and everyone else I deserved to be on the team. But more importantly, I'd make Potter pay for embarrassing me yet again.
Alaric POV
When Harry managed to catch the Snitch despite the rogue Bludger breaking his arm, I was in full celebration mode with Ollie as we landed our brooms onto the grass of the Quidditch pitch. But all thoughts of celebration ended when a certain voice reached my ears over the cheers of the crowd.
"Alaric Archard!"
I winced at the tone she used but quickly schooled my face into a bright smile. "Bee, my beloved sister, we won!"
Sadly, Blaire was not in the mood and simply ignored me as she proceeded to start poking and prodding (quite harshly in my opinion) at various parts of my body. As if she knew it was there, she rather viciously poked the spot where the Bludger had hit me. I couldn't help but hiss in pain while I winced and moved away from her.
"You're injured!"
"It's just a bruise, I swear!" I instantly refuted, hoping that my twin wouldn't get herself any further worked up than she already was.
But it was all for naught when she grabbed my wrist and started dragging me off the pitch (Ollie followed silently behind, snickering - the traitor). "You're seeing Madame Pomfrey this instant!"
Now I had more muscle and strength than Blaire and easily could have broken from her grasp, but I was by no means an idiot. There was no way I would anger my sister any further - she was already an angry lioness, and admittedly her concern for my well-being always warmed my heart. Despite what she may have been thinking, I was going to go get checked out, I simply didn't think I needed to rush to the hospital wing for a bruise. I mean, it did hurt to breathe, but I'd had worse Quidditch injuries in the past and come out alright.
Even with me going along quietly, Bee continued to frog-march me all the way to the hospital wing. We were the first to arrive, though I expected Harry to be brought in shortly by the others for his arm. We were barely halfway into the room when Madame Pomfrey popped her head out of her office in the back.
"Oh dear." She gestured to a nearby bed. "Sit down there." Once I was seated, she took out her wand and began waving it around me. "Now what happened to you?"
"I was hit by a Bludger on my torso," I answered calmly, gesturing slightly to my side, which was burning more than before - likely from the hike back to the castle.
"He was completely knocked off his broom, fell nearly one-hundred feet, and then was 'gently' landed by the Slowing Charm," Blaire chimed in.
Madame Pomfrey made a tsking noise as she began to focus on my side.
"How is he?" asked Oliver.
"I'm fi-"
"Three ribs are cracked," Madame Pomfrey interrupted with a deadpan tone that felt chiding.
I blinked in surprise.
"Deep breath."
I barely had time to do so before she muttered, "Episkey," and I started gasping out the collected air as I literally felt my ribs instantaneously heal.
Madame Pomfrey did one final swish of her wand before confirming that nothing else was wrong with me, though I had to lay down and wait for my ribs to set because freshly healed bones could easily be damaged again if someone so much as bumped into me. Thankfully, I wouldn't need to spend the night and would be able to return to the common room in an hour or so.
Harry was quickly brought in with a large entourage of people who were all quickly shooed out by Madame Pomfrey, though Harry's two friends were allowed to stay with him. Poor lad had the bones of his arm vanished by Lockhart. I did not envy him. If Lockhart ever came near me with his wand out, I would've socked him in the face Muggle-style.
Blaire left not long after, both reassured I was okay and on the mission to find Esme and reassure our sister that I was in good health. For this I was thankful - I honestly wouldn't be able to handle any tears petite papillon may shed for me. As Quidditch players themselves, Carlisle and Dustin probably already knew I was alright, so I doubted I would see either of them, word of mouth or seeing me in the corridors would be enough for them.
I did notice that Blaire met one of the Weasley twins at the door (no doubt George), and it took all my self-control not to chase after them to make sure the hormonal boy didn't lay his filthy hands any further on my sister.
Oliver remained at my side and had a faraway look in his eyes. With Madame Pomfrey checking over Harry and forcing Skele-o-grow down his throat, we were essentially left in our own little world. "Oi. You alright Ollie?"
He remained quiet for a moment longer before answering in a quiet voice. "I wanted to win, so badly, but I didn't want anyone risking their lives for it."
I instantly understood what was eating at him. "George was just worried about Harry, we all were, and that includes you. Yes, you were pumped up before the match and your determination got the best of you when you told Harry to win or die trying. But in no way did you pressure him to actually do so. Harry was just as determined to win, and while he isn't the most vocal about things, when he does speak up, it's always with what he truly feels or thinks."
"But you were nearly seriously hurt. You risked yourself to protect Harry when I should've called for a time out the second I noticed that Bludger was acting off."
I grasped Ollie's hand tightly in mine from where it rested on the bed. "I did risk myself, but I chose to do that on my own. I saw the Bludger coming from above Harry and chose to intervene to save him from taking a Bludger to the head. And you handled the situation with the Bludger as best you could - it is not on you in any way. The professors or even the headmaster should've intervened with such clear tampering, but they chose not to. Harry's and mine injuries are not on your shoulders. Besides, we all risk ourselves in some way to play - it's a hazard which comes with such an exhilarating sport."
Ollie's shoulder sagged as the tension finally left his body. "Thanks, 'Laric."
"Anytime, and anything for you."
Ollie broke the gentle silence. "Wanna sneak back to the common room?"
"Sweet Mother Magic, yes~," I agreed enthusiastically.
We both shared a laugh before slowly making our way out of the hospital wing while Madame Pomfrey was yelling at the new crowd that had gathered around Harry's bed.
Oui = yes
Madame = Mrs.
Petite papillon = little butterfly
Big thank you to my Beta-Readers: Anonymous and TheSparkler!