A/N: I should have done this on the first upload. Oops! I got too eager to upload this story. This is a combination of the minds that brought you "Harry Potter and the Holy Relic of Vecna" and this was inspired by one of the chapters therein. My co-worker James and I have been mulling this one around for awhile.
Disclaimer: Another atrocity to JK Rowlings creation
The Quidditch Incident
The game was a tight one. Gryffindor was only ahead by two points, neither Harry nor Cho had found the snitch. It was imperative that one of them catch it at this rate, or else the teams may be playing until next term. Ron was doing his best at beating down the quaffle away from the goal, then it happened. These things always happened to Ron. The next thing anyone knew, he was on the operating table in the infirmary.
Madam Hooch and Madam Pomphrey stood on either side of the operating table, where the most recent patient lay on his stomach. Another bloody accident on the Quidditch field grumbled the school's nurse. When would they ever learn and quit playing the bloody game. Youth these days! Madam Pomphrey examined her newest patient with her usual scrutinizing meticulous care. She pulled back suddenly. All color drained from her face as she found the source of Mr. Weasely's problem.
"How did you get that there!" she cried out.
Madam Hooch shook her head in dismay. "In all my years of coaching Quidditch at Hogswart, I have never seen the Golden Snitch caught that way!" she exclaimed.
Ron let a heavy sigh of exasperation escape from his lungs. He laid his chin on his folded hands like an innocent little cherub. "And it didn't even count."