A/N: Felt chapter eight was a bit lacking in length, it had it's own little charm but you, dear readers, deserve more. M.T.

-CHAPTER NINE-

Training For the Ballet

Harry woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. He was nervous, mainly at the thought of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms money could buy. He had never wanted to beat Slytherin so badly. But they weren't the only reasons for causing his nerves, he didn't know why, but for some reason the idea of Malfoy playing his opposing position worried him. It felt as though a small part of him wanted to be able to impress Draco and was scared of failing.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry good luck as he entered the change rooms. Just before he left Ron pulled Harry aside out of sight and kissed him passionately on the lips. As he pulled away he smiled softly, "Good luck, Harry."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry smiled halfheartedly back.

Harry entered the change room and got changed into his Quidditch robes. Wood gave his usual pep talk and then they were out on the pitch.

"On my whistle!" Madame Hooch started the game.

Harry flew up into the sky, higher than anyone else. He was squinting around for the Snitch.

Malfoy shot past Harry and nearly knocked him off his broom. He turned and hovered in mid air so he was facing him. Harry heard him say, "Alright there sexy?" Harry shook his head and blinked a few times. What had he just heard?

"What?" asked Harry.

"I said alright there scar head?" Malfoy repeated looking frustrated. But Harry had no time to reply, he had to dodge a Bludger, which came pelting towards him. George gave the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of a Slytherin; it changed direction in mid air and went straight for Wood.

It knocked him clean off his broom and sent him spiraling to the ground below. It then came straight for Harry again. In the stands Hagrid, Ron and Hermione had noticed the strange Bludger.

"Oh no, Harry's got himself a rogue Bludger, that's been tampered with, that has!" yelled Hagrid.

"I'll fix it!" Ron screamed bravely pointing his wand at the bludger.

"No, Ron! It's too dangerous, you might hit Harry!" Hermione forced the wand from Ron's hand.

Higher and higher Harry climbed. He could hear laughter from the crowd as he dodged and dived, anything to get away from the out of control bludger. A whistling in his ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" joked Malfoy as Harry was forced to do a stupid

kind of twirl in mid air to dodge it. Harry felt his face going red in embarrassment; off he fled the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him. Looking back at Malfoy he saw it, the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches above Draco's left ear- and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't seen it. For an agonising moment, Harry hung in mid air, not daring to speed towards Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the snitch.

WHAM!

He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashing into his elbow and Harry felt his arm break. Dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his broom, his right arm dangling uselessly at his side. The bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time aiming at his face. Harry swerved out of the way one idea lodged firmly in his numb brain: get to Malfoy.

Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear: Malfoy thought Harry was attacking him.

"Harry? What are you doing?" he gasped, careering out of Harry's way. Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch. He felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch, but was now only gripping the broom with legs. There was a yell from the crowd as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out.

With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom, his arm was hanging at a very strange angle. Riddled with pain he heard someone land nearby and coming from a distance was a great deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.

"Aha," he said vaguely, "We've won." And he fainted.

He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the pitch, with someone leaning over him. A pale pointed face.

"Malfoy?" his voice was dry and raspy.

"Yes Harry, it's me," he whispered back, wiping Harry's hair from his fore head.

"Are- are you alright?" he asked smiling fondly at Harry.

Harry smiled, "Not really," he croaked.

"Yeah," laughed Draco, "stupid question…" he trailed off and looked around. Harry could hear other voices coming closer.

"I got to go," whispered Malfoy.

"Oh."

"Yeah, I- I'm sorry, it's…it's just I can't be seen with you. D'you know what I mean…?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry Harry."

Harry heard Draco get up as the voices came closer. He opened his eyes and saw a glitter of teeth.

"Oh no, not you," he moaned.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly, to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them.

"Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"No!" said Harry, "I'll keep it like this thanks…"

"Stand back!" said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade green sleeves.

"No- don't-" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.

A strange sensation started at Harry's shoulder and spread all the way down to his

fingertips. It felt as though his arm was deflated. It didn't hurt anymore- but nor did it feel remotely like an arm.

Poking out of the end of his robes was what looked like a thick flesh coloured glove.

People around him gasped.

"Hey, it looks like my…" but Ron was cut off by Hagrid's angry yells.

"What have you done now, Lockhart?"

-------

Harry was lying in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.

"You should have come straight to me! I can mend bones in a second but growing them back-"

"But you will be able to, wont you?" asked Harry desperately.

"Oh certainly, but it will be painful." She handed Harry a pair of pyjamas. Hermione waited outside a drawn curtain while Ron helped Harry into his pyjamas. Ron thoroughly enjoyed it. Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a beakerful of Skelegrow and left him for the night. He slept for a few hours before waking up in the pitch-blackness with someone sponging his head. He shouted, "Get off! Ron?" but he now saw two tennis ball sized eyes staring at him through the darkness.

"Dobby?" he whispered in surprise.

"Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably, "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?"

"It was you!" Harry said slowly, "You stopped the barrier letting us through!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway. Dobby had to iron his hands afterwards…."

Dobby started to cry. He blew his nose on his filthy pillowcase.

"Why do you wear that thing?" asked Harry, his anger now gone.

"Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, sir, Dobby can only be freed if his master presents him with clothes, sir." He mopped his bulging eyes.

"Harry Potter must go home!" Dobby jumped onto the bed and clung to Harry's leg.

"Dobby! What are you doing!" Harry was startled. Dobby was now humping his leg.

"Dobby finds doing this pleasurable sir, pleasuring oneself as a house-elf is forbidden, Dobby is punishing himself for saying too much to Harry Potter." Dobby continued humping Harry's leg making the bed shake and creak.

"Get off Dobby!" Harry pushed the house elf off his leg and back onto the floor. There was a loud thud as Dobby's head hit the ground.

"Oh thankyou, Harry Potter, you helped to punish Dobby," he started violently hitting his head on the stone floor making little gasping noises after each bang.

"Dobby stop!" Harry grabbed Dobby by the arm and pulled him to his feet, "You cant hurt yourself just to please your master, hurting yourself is a serious problem Dobby."

"But I want Harry Potter to go home! It's no longer safe at Hogwarts! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make-"

"YOUR Bludger?" Harry's anger was rising once again, " What do you mean your Bludger? YOU made that Bludger try to kill me?"

"Not kill you sir, never kill you!" said Dobby shocked, "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only

wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Oh is that all?" said Harry sarcastically, "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted to have me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase, "If he knew what he means to do to you, you would run a mile sir, Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is repeating itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more-"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Harry started to shout, Dobby had thrown himself into Harry lap and was pulling at his pants. He only got as far as his boxers, when Harry picked him up by the back of the neck.

"Look Dobby, I'd appreciate it if you didn't go anywhere near my pants or my legs, ok? Those things are for one person only…" Harry guiltily looked around the room before whispering, "Ok, maybe two people, but you must not touch me or pleasure me ever again, got it?"

Dobby had more tears in his eyes, he looked gravely disappointed, but he nodded quietly, sniffing back the tears.

All of a sudden Madame Promfrey walked out of her office, she had obviously heard them talking.

"Dobby must go, Harry Potter! Please, Harry Potter must take Dobby's advice, he must not stay at Hogwarts!" and with a click of his fingers Dobby had vanished, Harry quickly pulled up the covers and rolled over, feigning sleep. As he listened to Madame Pomfrey's footsteps fade away he thought about what he had just done. At least now he wouldn't have Dobby attempting to get into his pants all the time. There was still a twinge of regret as he thought about it. Whatever Dobby did, it felt good, really good, but Harry stood firmly with his decision, what Dobby was doing may have felt good, but it was wrong, very wrong…