So, in reviewing the poll I created, as well as my update schedule, I've realized that PotDS will actually end long before ANP 7 does... Therefore, I was wondering what I ought to do regarding the poll that so many have graciously voted upon, whether to keep it and modify the actions taken upon whatever happens, or delete it and create a new, more accurate one...
Well, I'd once again like to turn the question over to you, my wonderful readers. Private messages and Reviews stating your thoughts regarding my little dilemma would be more than welcome. In the meantime, here is a new chapter for you all to enjoy!
Chapter Ten
Powers of Healing
Harry knew that Hermione, Draco and Faykan all were working furiously on a plan to confront Professor Slughorn and get the man to release the true memory of when Tom Riddle asked him about Horcruxes, but he was strongly inclined that a direct approach was needed. Stealth and deceit the man would be watching for, because of his Slytherin background, but a Gryffindor-styled front might work to their favor.
Potions class was always an interesting affair since Slughorn took command. The now five Gryffindors had nearly a constant competition for every lesson, with Faykan and Hermione having clear advantages over the rest, despite the Istari's heavy handicaps that were enforced by the other four. Slughorn was over the moon with them regardless, as they were the top of the class, earning massive numbers of points and small rewards in the way of promised favors and party invitations for the 'Slug Club'.
This lesson they were practicing with brewing antidotes for an unknown poison. After receiving their mystery vials from Slughorn, they each hastened to dump the contents into their cauldrons and cast the charms to determine the properties and a few ingredients of their poison.
An idea formed in Harry's mind as he observed what his was comprised of, and looking to his friends on either side they had the same smirk of daring glee.
"Do we do it?" Faykan asked aloud, a smile brimming across his face.
"I think we should…" Ron replied immediately.
"Why ever not?" Hermione agreed.
Smiling widely, both Draco and Faykan plunged hands into their innermost pockets, drawing forth dried packets of Athelas. Doling out several leaves to each of them, they set to work immediately, levitating their poisons out of their cauldrons and back into vials before starting afresh, simmering clear water to an intense heat before adding roughly three leaves of the potent plant a piece.
Draco rushed for the student ingredient closet, while Harry and Faykan wandlessly kept the five caldrons stirring in harmony. Hermione and Ron dug through their individual Advanced Potion-Making Kits, pulling out Bezoars, fairy dust and several Light-oriented herbs, including both mint and olive sprigs.
Draco returned quickly, carrying a small armload of distinct yet varied ingredients, and the three set to work chopping, peeling and crushing under the blond's direction. Their teamwork was starting to draw a heavy amount of attention, but Slughorn gave no pause to their work, watching as silently as the rest of the class as they worked.
With such a powerful base as Kingsfoil, injected with pure magic and a strong desire to heal, Draco dumped careful measurements of their ingredients into each cauldron, and they watched as the potion changed from a light green to a deep sea-blue, before finally settling on a pearly silver, with a fine mist steaming from the top when they were completely finished, well within Slughorn's original time limit.
"…Ah, oh! Times up everyone!" Slughorn finally said when he realized that the period was nearly concluded. He wandered from cauldron to cauldron, briefly inspecting each antidote, but the man was clearly impatient to get to his five star pupils and learn exactly what they had been up to. When he finally arrived, the rest of the class gathered around, and Slughorn glanced in each cauldron, a look of stunned amazement on his face, "I do not recognize this antidote in the slightest, what is it?" he asked.
"They're based on a potion that Will made last year with Professor Snape, involving a base of the Athelas plant…" Hermione said slowly, pausing as Slughorn looked confused at the name of the herb.
"Kingsfoil," Draco clarified, which seemed to stump the professor further, "upon it we added many ingredients with known healing properties, as well as several others that could magnify the potency. Honey as a natural sweetener, mint for a pleasant smell mixed with the Athelas itself, and olive to assist the structure of the potion, so it's neither too runny nor too thick."
"But, does it work?" Slughorn continued, glancing at their seemingly uncorked vials.
Harry smiled, and together the five of them lifted their poisons. "You all may want to stand back a few steps," he warned, before the each dumped the vials' contents into the respective cauldrons.
The result was immediate. The potions bubbled and frothed, seeming to violently attack the added liquids while a putrid blast of smoke erupted from each. When it cleared, Slughorn gaped as the potions returned to their previous state, shimmering faintly as if nothing had happened after they had been completed.
"They… they're perfectly intact," Slughorn said to himself, "completely unaffected by the poisons, not even neutralized, they were immune!"
The man seemed to inflate slightly, and a shine in his eyes that seemed to be strangely misplaced on the rounded face, "the amount of gold… I mean the lives you could save with this potion are incalculable. You all must let an expert see this, if it was published and produced, it would be an instant success with the entire world, let alone magical Britain!"
The five of them smiled weakly, suddenly very unwilling to allow Slughorn to make their potion public knowledge. Despite its powers, when they had tested such concepts before, the five Gryffindors had realized that only Draco had the ability to make the potion stronger than anyone else with the exact same ingredients and technique. Faykan constantly referred to an old legend about the hands of the King being the hands of a healer when he was pulled into discussing why.
The bell rang just then, and the students started packing their things away in earnest, while Slughorn scrambled to assign their homework. With one look at each of them, Faykan carefully ladled over a dozen vials worth of the antidote, before vanishing the lot, lest their esteemed Professor happened to get his hands on it without their knowledge. Harry was saddened that it seemed that was the necessary course of action, but accepted that the man wasn't perfect; and had his own vices and flaws.
He did however hang back as his friends were leaving, and approached the teacher's desk with a bright smile from the Potions Master.
"Yes Harry, what can I do for you?" Slughorn asked as he packed his suitcase.
"Sir," Harry said slowly, imitating Riddle's exact language as he asked the question whose memory he desired, "I wanted to ask you something…"
"Ask away my dear boy, ask away," Slughorn replied without looking at him.
"Sir," Harry said, more slowly now, "I wondered what you might know about… about Horcruxes?"
The old Potions Master froze mid turn, nearly dropping his suitcase in shock. His round face seemed to sink in on itself in fright. "What did you say?" he said in barely a whisper, but cut off Harry before he could repeat himself, "Dumbledore put you up to this, didn't he… He… he showed you that memory, didn't he?"
Sticking to his plan of Gryffindor honesty, Harry nodded, "Yes."
"Wes, of course," Slughorn continued, not hearing Harry completely, dabbing at his pale face with a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket. "…of course, well, if you've seen that memory, Harry, you'll know that I don't know anything… about … about those things…"
And with that he seized his case, muttering an excuse as he brushed past Harry and started away from the Gryffindor.
"Sir," Harry protested, "I just strongly felt that there was more detail in that memory than…"
"Did you?!" Slughorn said, growing angry, "Then you were wrong, weren't you? Wrong!" he bellowed the last, and fled out the door, slamming it behind him.
~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~
Draco was not even remotely sympathetic with Harry when the Gryffindor returned with the information of his failure to persuade Slughorn to give up his memory. Frankly, the Ex-Slytherin was not surprised that the foolish plan had backfired so drastically. They sat around in the Room of Requirement at the end of lessons, discussing what they could do to fulfill Dumbledore's request for them.
"However," Faykan had admonished them all, "this gives us knowledge that whatever the Professor is hiding is something that troubles him deeply." The boy sat in silence for a moment, before standing to pace and speaking his thoughts aloud.
"I would consider revealing myself to Slughorn, shocking him into cooperation, but that would not be easy to pull off, and I'm hesitant to attempt it lest the wrong person noticed."
Finally, after several passes and quite a bit of muttering, Faykan returned to his seat, stumped for the time being.
"We give him time," Hermione said, "rethink our position on how to approach him, and try again later."
"I agree," Ron all but blurted. Draco shook his head. The red head was desperately trying to mend the bridge between himself and Hermione, but so long as Lavender was clinging to him every moment she could there would be no peace for the two friends.
January melted away into February, and their opportunities to even be close enough to ask Slughorn about his memory were drained away. The man sent no more invitations to any parties or dinners, rather shutting himself away from the school at large aside from classes. It was apparent to Draco that, having found out the ruse that had brought him there, Slughorn wanted little to nothing else to do with the school or Dumbledore.
Meanwhile, Draco himself was growing quite happy in the house of lions. He was accepted here, even by the other years, as they had seen him for years around four of their number, and had treated him like a distant housemate regardless, making it official did little but cement their desire to include him.
The rift between Draco and his old house did not mend well however, and if anything Nott and his circle of followers held him in more contempt than ever. At their first apparition lesson, the group of sixth year Slytherins huddled in a corner of the Great Hall, casting dirty looks at Draco and his friends. He felt that something was amiss, but hadn't the time to truly pay any attention to them as he wanted very much to learn this vital skill of wizarding like.
The wizard from the Ministry was rather unhelpful in his direction, but Draco felt that he understood the principle well enough. It was very similar to Occlumency, where your will was paramount to the corresponding effect.
Regardless, this first lesson went by uneventfully, with only a single Hufflepuff splinching herself, before they were dismissed until the next weekend. Exiting to the Entrance Hall, the five friends chatted about their plans for the rest of their free time, when Draco paused.
Something felt wrong.
Before he had the chance to say anything, a tumultuous bang detonated in the hall, at the same moment that someone shouted, "NO!" and another screamed in terror. A body crashed into Draco as he half turned, sending him to the ground with a dull thud.
Blinking the flash of light from his eyes, Draco immediately saw the flaming red hair of Ron as the boy lay collapsed across Draco, a fiery black burn squarely in his back from the spell that he had taken for Draco.
"RON!" screamed Harry, as he, Hermione and Faykan crowded around him protectively. Faykan's wand was out in a heartbeat, waving in a complicated pattern over the wound that was slowly spreading across the boy's back, burning straight through his robes as it went.
Harry and Hermione stood to keep the forming crowd back as the Professors started to claw through from the Great Hall, while Draco stared in near horror at one of his best friends.
"Draco, help me!" Faykan said hurriedly, thrusting a pouch of potions and herbs at the boy as he continued to cast. A blue glowing circle appeared around the outer edge of the smoldering black mark, preventing it from spreading further. Tearing at the clasp, Draco scrambled to pull out the vials and poultices.
Two sharp jerks of his wand and Draco's hands were coated in a magical shield that would protect him from the curse on Ron, and a third wave gave him the ability to see magical auras. Despite the near blinding light from Faykan at his side, Draco was able to peer at the blackness of the vile curse.
Gaping, he recognized it as a Necrotic Rot curse, literally eating away at the skin and struggling against the body's immune system and Faykan's wards to push further still. If Draco didn't do anything, Ron would at best be paralyzed for life; at worst, he would die. The curse was also highly contagious, being almost like a disease, and without the mediwizard level charm that he had cast on his hands, he would have been infected as well.
Working as quickly as he could, and avoiding disturbing the ward that Faykan channeled, Draco started unweaving the curse with a steady stream of healing spells. Madam Pomfrey arrived just then, instantly recognizing that she should not interfere or try to move Ron, and instantly knelt, het robes billowing around as her wand started to run diagnostic spells over the redhead's vitals. She paled as he realized what they were dealing with, and instant shot a Patronus Charm into the air, signaling for Severus, Draco would guess, but he was far too focused to pay more than a fleeting glance at the Matron.
Slowly, the curse started to ebb, but the damage remained, and Madam Pomfrey started her own healing spells, trying to undo the worst of the damage with little success. Severus arrived, black cloak flowing around him as he handed potions to the School Nurse, who left off her spells to pour the concoctions into Ron's mouth.
The curse broke moments later, and Faykan dropped his ward in an instant, throwing his magic behind Draco's healing instead. The surge of power almost caused Draco to scream in fright, but he contained himself quickly. Eldarion appeared, calmly talking Draco through directing the nigh unlimited magic of the Istari in healing his best friend.
Draco wouldn't be able to live with himself if he failed to save Ron after the boy had thrown himself in front of a spell for him. Normally the act would have been foolish and unnecessary, but this was one of the few days that Draco had decided against wearing his Mithril vest. It was a foolish and outright risky move, and now he was paying dearly for his stupidity.
With the curse gone, Draco immediately moved to spelling the wound sealed so they could move Ron from the Entrance Hall. Severus muttered the levitation charm, hovering the boy at waist height so that the three could continue to work as they swiftly jogged to the infirmary.
~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~
Severus watched mutely as Faykan, Draco and Madam Pomfrey struggled to keep Ronald Weasley from dying of shock, infection, and a cascade of other complications that cropped up from the rotten hole in the boy's back. The Defense Professor and Potion Master had done all he could to help save the boy's life, drawing potion after potion from his stores as the healers demanded.
Faykan caught his eyes, jerking his head at Pomfrey to indicate that she needed to be removed so he could utilize his full power to help, but Severus merely shook his head. Separating the Matron from a patient in dire need would be more difficult that facing a horde of Death Eaters alone.
Finally, Faykan ran out of patience and seized Draco's wand hand, leveling it at Ron, bellowing a spell and pushing a magnitude of power through the other boy that Severus felt the room shake slightly, "ed' i' kalina en' i' valar coia ar' umartempla harwa n'uma ner,"
The boy's body light up with blinding whiteness, and the School Nurse backed a step in shock, "My word!" she said, before stepping forward and taking Weasley's vitals again.
"It's gone," she said, stunned, "he's completely cured. His body's natural magic should take over from here; carefully monitored he'll make a full recovery. He just needs time and sleep now.
Severus chose at that time to remove himself from the group that was now gathering around the Matron as she estimated the time that Mr. Weasley would reawaken and they could visit him. The Professor could now rest from the panic of a student's near death and focus on catching the person responsible for such a brutal attack.
Unfortunately, none of the other Gryffindors had seen the origin of the spell that struck Ron, nor had they seen anyone in particular fleeing the scene immediately afterward. Naturally, Severus suspected Theodore Nott, as did the students, but without proof there could be no way of telling if they boy was connected. Worse still, if they wanted to put a stop to the Dark Lord's plan for using Nott, they couldn't just throw him out of Hogwarts for a trumped up charge.
It wasn't until that evening that the Headmaster returned from his outing to who-knew-where, and learned of the attack on Mr. Weasley. Severus was summoned immediately to assist in explaining what had been found out in regards to the event, and entered the Infirmary with the aged wizard to find the boy's siblings, along with his closest housemates surrounding the bed, avidly waiting for the time that Madam Pomfrey had estimated that he would awaken.
Soon enough, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived, and were escorted to the Headmaster's office for the full details, while the children continued their watchful vigil over their fallen brother and friend.
"It had to be a Slytherin…" Harry said finally, after the room had been silent for several tense minutes. "Who else would be casting that level of a curse at Draco?"
"It's very likely," Faykan replied, "they'd be the only ones in the castle with any motive. Sadly, how would we convince anyone at the Ministry without proof, especially with their level of liking for either you or Dumbledore…?"
Severus listened mutely as other speculation was thrown about, mainly by the Weasley's, but they amounted to very little in the way of possibility. Suddenly, they were all interrupted in their respective thoughts or words by the doors to the Hospital Wing being thrown open, admitting a desperate looking Gryffindor girl.
"Where is he?" she cried as she barged past Severus, tears in her eyes with worry, "Where's my Won-Won? Has he been asking for me?"
The girl came to a staggering halt in front of Mr. Weasley's bed, gaping in horror at the bandages across his middle, before her eyes set upon Miss Granger. "What is she doing here," the girl demanded, completely ignoring the fact that the boy was unconscious and therefore out of any sort of control of the situation.
Hermione, in a small controlled burst of irritation, stood from here chair, glaring back at the offending girl, "I could ask you the same question."
"I happen to be his girlfriend," the Gryffindor shot back hotly.
"I happen to be his… friend," Miss Granger attempted to reply in turn, but hesitated when she heard the sound of her own words.
"Don't make me laugh," the girl countered, scoffing, "You two haven't spoken in weeks… I suppose you'd want to break up with him now that he's all interesting…"
"He's been attacked you daft dimbo! And for the record I've always found him interesting." Granger attacked back, shaking her head at the other Gryffindors foolish remark. The boys in the room, especially Draco, Harry and Faykan all seemed to be trying to disappear in their seats. Severus mused that they sensed the growing dangerous fire that was welling up in their friend.
Just then, Mr. Weasley started to moan lightly, making a soft gurgling sound in his sleep.
"Aha, see," the other girl said victoriously, approaching the foot of the bed, "he senses my presence. Don't worry Won-Won, I'm here… I'm here…" she cooed at the boy, ignoring Hermione as her hand seemed to inch for her wand. Even Severus was slightly alarmed at how well the girl was controlling her possessive anger. It had been obvious for a long while that both Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley had had feelings for each other, but both as simply shrouded such desires behind their fighting and near constant arguments.
The boy moaned again at the moment as he turned restlessly in his sleep. Both girls leaned in to hear what he murmured, "Er...my…nee," he croaked.
At first, neither reacted, but then Mr. Weasley said the name shakily again, at which point the girl staggered back, shocked and hurt, before dashing away again, passing the Headmaster as he was returning from visiting with Arthur and Molly. "Oh to be young," the old man said calmly, "and to feel love's keen sting…"
There was an awkward moment of silence as the Headmaster smiled pleasantly, before glancing at his many handed pocket watch. "Well, come away everybody. Mr. Weasley is well tended."
Severus was the first one out of the room, walking briskly down to his dungeon quarters, only stopping when his way was blocked by the burly form of Hagrid, who was pounding up the way Severus had come, leaving massive muddy puddles in his wake.
"Hagrid," Severus said, concerned at the look on the half-giant's face "What's wrong?"
The man was drenched, rainwater mixed with tears covering his face and hair. "Bin in the forest all day," he said, panting slightly. It seemed that he had jogged or run the entire way to the castle. "Aragog's getting' worse, I bin readin' to him… didn' get up ter dinner till jus' now an' then Professor sprout told me abou' Ron. How is he?"
Severus knew about the colony of Acromantulas that Hagrid had started in the forest so long ago, having had the man assist him by procuring several rare and rather valuable potion ingredients from members of the arachnid clan from time to time. Cold as the Head of Slytherin had been previously, he had always respected the bond that had existed between Hagrid and the Spider leader, and was truthfully saddened by the new of the creature's worsening health.
"The boy is fine, Hagrid, just sleeping now. Madam Pomfrey has everything under control." Severus urged him, slowly steering the giant of a man away from the stairs and directing him back down to the Entrance Hall.
"It's terrible," Hagrid said sadly as they walked, every three steps of Severus' to Hagrid's one, "all this new security, an' kids are still getting' hurt… Dumbledore's worried sick… he don' say much, but I can tell…"
"We're all worried, my good man." Severus said, his thoughts distracted somewhat by Hagrid's previous statement regarding the spiders. Hadn't Faykan mentioned something about creatures in the forest that were disturbing something that had taken up residence in the trees? He couldn't quite place what the details were, but it seemed important enough that the Istar needed to be informed of this development.
"My apologies Hagrid," Severus said, excusing himself from the half-giant's side at the doors to the Great Hall, "but I just remembered something important that I needed to speak about with the Headmaster."
The massive man didn't even notice the strange sort of urgency that Severus had as he left, but waved simply and strode into the Great Hall. Dashing away, Severus bolted for the seventh floor and Gryffindor Tower, fixated only on reaching Alatar and speaking with him about the colony of Acromantulas.
~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~
Harry had been accosted almost immediately upon their return to Gryffindor Tower, by none other than Cormac McLaggen. "I'll be playing Keeper then, won't I?" he said smugly, "In next week's match I mean."
It took Harry several moments to fully engage into what McLaggen was talking about, "Oh… right… Quidditch," he said, wearily running a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I suppose so…"
As much as he'd rather have taken anyone else, he was not in the mood to argue it, and after all, McLaggen had outperformed every other try-out for Keeper during the trials.
"Excellent," McLaggen said in a satisfied voice. "So, when's practice?"
"What? Oh… there's one tomorrow evening," Harry replied, remembering suddenly. He was still very shaken up about the attack on Ron and Draco, and his mind was scattered across many different things, including racking his mind for any detail they may have forgotten.
"Good. Listen, Potter, we should have a talk beforehand. I've got some ideas on strategy you might find useful."
"Right," Harry said unenthusiastically, wanting to rejoin his friends as fast as possible. "Well, I'll hear them tomorrow, then. I'm pretty tired now… see you…" and with that he promptly walked away from McLaggen.
The upcoming game was somewhat subdued on the part of the Gryffindors, all knowing that Ron was still in the hospital wing, having flesh slowly regrown onto his back, and infections constantly being fought off with a steady supply of potions. But there was still a sense of excitement, especially with the thought of Gryffindor soundly beating the Hufflepuff team, who's lead chaser Zacharias Smith had commentated their previous match.
Harry had never been less interested in a game in his life however, torn between thinking about how Ron was doing and the state of the war that was continually being waged while they sat here in school. It was very frustrating, but he trusted that Faykan knew what he was doing in keeping them centered here. Whether it was that the boy lacked trust in the school defenses, or that Voldemort might make a opening move here, Harry didn't know, but deep down, he hoped to see some action again in the near future.
The battle over the summer had been some of the most stimulating events he had ever experiences, soaring above any Quidditch game or life threatening adventure that had occurred in previous years. He felt alive in that moment, actually doing something to make a difference, and while there had been many close calls with lives of people he cared about, Harry felt a constant tug in his heart to have another go at Voldemort's forces.
Having been to see Ron prior to coming down to the match, Harry knew that his friend felt very much the same, albeit he was more muted in his desire after seeing not only his mother nearly taken from him, but almost losing his own life. "But that makes it more important, doesn't it?" he had said to Harry, "If we don't go out there and fight him, who are we going to doom to suffer from him next?" Ron had told Harry to enjoy himself at the match, and to knock Smith around a bit for him if he could manage it, to which Harry had laughed all the way down to the pitch.
Entering the changing room, Harry changed quickly, catching up to his team as they waited in the side room from the pitch for their team to be announced. McLaggen was already sizing up the skies outside and dishing out orders to the rest of the Gryffindors, much to Faykan and Ginny's annoyance, while the rest seemed content to just ignore the large Seventh Year.
"Tricky conditions," he was saying as Harry caught up to them, just as the commentary began. "Coote, Peakes, you'll want to fly out of the sun, so they don't see you coming…"
"I'm the Captain, McLaggen," Harry interrupted, and the two beaters shot him a smile of gratitude for the rescue, "shut up giving them instructions and get up by the goal posts!"
As their crowd far above cheered for the Hufflepuff team, Harry leaned toward the two younger boys, "Make sure you do fly out of the sun," he said grudgingly to them.
They mounted their brooms, and moments later the doors flew open. Launching himself into the air, Harry relished flying for a few moments as the team circled the length of the pitch before crowding around the center, facing off against the Hufflepuff team. High above the others, Harry caught sight of the smug face of Smith, who was not as haughty as he had been previously, probably on edge from having to play their team now.
The Quaffle was released, and Smith dove for it, taking possession almost instantly. "And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle," said a dreamy voice, echoing over the grounds. Harry almost burst out laughing as he recognized Luna Lovegood in the commentator's seat. 'This is going to be great,' he thought, eyes darting for the snitch but his ears keenly attuned to catch every word.
Luna didn't disappoint, "Smith did the commentary last time, of course, and Will Stanton flew into him, I think probably on purpose, it looked like it… Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now he's playing them… oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle, Ginny Weasley took it from him, I do like her, she's very nice…"
It was the best thing ever. Luna would comment on the most random topics as the game progressed, occasionally returning to the actual events of the game. It seemed that Professor McGonagall didn't know exactly what to do about it either, as the Transfiguration Mistress only seemed to comment when Luna misspoke on something or was too far down a tangent idea.
Harry circled slowly as he stared for the Snitch, but there was no sign of it. Moments later the crowd decked in yellow cheered as one of the chasers scored past McLaggen, who had been too preoccupied shouting criticism at Ginny for allowing the Quaffle out of her possession in the first place.
Harry was ready to dive down and give McLaggen a piece of his own mind, but Faykan swooped past him at that moment, shouting as he went, "I got this Harry, get the Snitch!"
Spinning, and choosing to leave the situation in his best friend's capable hands, Harry sped off to locate the tiny winged ball that would end this both wonderful and nightmarish game.
Hufflepuff was in possession again, and from what it looked like, McLaggen was off again focusing on what the rest of the team was doing and not defending the posts. But as the yellow chasers sped across the pitch, Faykan dove into their midst, scattering their tight formation and causing Zacharias Smith to drop the Quaffle one again. The pompous boy hadn't been able to hold onto the red ball for more than a few minutes at a time.
Soon enough, between Faykan acting as diversion, and Ginny and Angelina's constant scoring keeping the rest of Hufflepuff distracted, Harry found the Snitch hovering near the Gryffindor goals. Checking on the Hufflepuff seeker, who was nowhere near the same level of skill as Cedric, Harry found that he was closely interested in the current dogfight of the chasers and beaters. Smiling to himself, Harry dove, streaking across the field toward the tiny ball.
That was, until he was stopped by McLaggen, who clearly through the Harry was doing something wrong. Twisting sharply, he tried to roll out of the way, but the massive seventh year was on a set collision course with him. "Harry what…!" he shouted, just as he crashed into the Firebolt, sending it spiraling off course. Spotting the glint of gold, Harry made a mad swipe at it, just as an iron black ball pelted straight for his head. The last thing Harry heard before everything went dark with a sickening thud accompanying an explosion of pain.
The next thing Harry knew, he was lying in a remarkably warm and comfortable bed and looking up at a lamp that was throwing a circle of golden light onto a shadowy ceiling. Raising his head, Harry spotted a familiar red-haired person to his left.
"Nice of you to drop by," Ron said, grinning.
Harry blinked in mild confusion, looking around to orient himself. It was indeed the hospital wing, which could only mean one thing. He had been injured because of McLaggen and his idiocy. Anger seethed through him at the thought. at the same time, his head throbbed painfully. Raising a hand to it, he felt a stiff turban of bandages there.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Cracked skull," Madam Pomfrey answered, bustling up and pushing him back against the pillows again. "Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I'm keeping you in overnight just in case. You shouldn't over exert yourself for a few hours at the least."
"I don't want to stay here overnight," Harry said, his anger returning as he struggled to sit up. "I want to find McLaggen and kill him."
"I'm afraid that would come under the heading of 'overextension,'" the Matron said good naturedly, firmly pushing him back onto the bed again. The way she said it would almost be humorous if not for the threatening way she raised her wand. "You will stay until I discharge you, Potter, or I'll have no choice but to call the headmaster."
And with that she bustled away, softly shutting the door of her office behind her. It didn't take long to get the full horror of the ending score of the match after Harry had been knocked out. Gryffindor had lost badly, by far over two hundred and fifty points. Harry would never forgive McLaggen for his poor performance. He personally wanted to be involved in tearing him limb from limb, but Ron calmly reminded him that not only was the seventh year much larger than Harry, but that Faykan had probably already beaten him to the punch, alongside Ginny and the rest of the team.
Throughout the dialogue, Harry noted the distinct and poorly suppressed glee in his friend's voice at the news of how badly McLaggen had messed up. They spent a great deal of time afterward talking about Luna's commentary, each explaining that it was the best they had heard since first attending Hogwarts, and hoping strongly that the Ravenclaw girl would continue to host the commentary for the remainder of that year's matches.
ed' i' kalina en' i' valar coia ar' umartempla harwa n'uma ner : by the light of the Valar live and curse wound be no more