Assignment #9 – You're couple have handled a lot of things but illness will creep up at a time when none of you expect it. Unless, of course, they go out swimming in the middle of winter and don't use a warming charm, it it's expected. For this task, use one of the following illnesses and injuries in your story – Injury broken limb; Prompt: (Action) Kiss

-oOo-

"Like this?" She asked for the hundredth time, readjusting her grip on the broom. She was merely an inch off the ground. The toes of her shoes could brush against the crisp grass if she really wanted to call quits. There was a slight breeze that rustled from behind her. Leaning forward to shield herself from the breeze, she muttered to herself when the broom started inching forward. She leaned back straight and balanced herself.

"I think I got it." Hermione nodded at them, rocking back and forward on the broom. "I'm ready to play."

Harry grinned at that, and on his own broom started flying up towards where the others already were. The group was in the air, dishing out bats and balls and waiting for the last two members to join.

"You sure you can play?" Draco watched her rocking on the broom. She'd gotten a lot more confident on it over the years, but flying slow circles was a different thing from playing Quidditch among a bunch of rough housing Weasleys.

Hermione glared at him was a smile on her face. "I'm going to fly circles around you."

Draco smirked in return, mounting his broom. "Oh really. Don't think just because you're cute I'll go easy on you."

"Bring it on, Malfoy." Hermione leaned forward, kissing her recently wed husband's cheek before shakenly taking to the air. Draco follow her with his eyes, watching as her the long braid danced in the wind. Smirking, he took to the air on his side of the field.

"Alright teams," Fred flew between the two sides, smirking at both. "I expect fair. I expect clean. But more importantly, I expect to see some balls flying."

With that, the game was on. Hermione was a little slow as a keeper, and she noticed that with Draco playing chaser he was going a little easy on her. Not like any of them were actually playing to seriously to begin with. Harry and Ginny seemed too busy groping each other to watch for the snitch. Draco and Ron were too busy tormenting one another to really run any plays – but seeing as how there was a smirk on both boy's lips and nothing to vicious was being shared, she expected that it was all in good nature. Luna was proving surprisingly useful on a broom as she scored another goal. The other players were in various states of usefulness.

All in all, Hermione was finding Quidditch to be quite enjoyable. She found that with her fear of heights gone, flying wasn't too awful. And while she'll never hold a keeper position in a professional field, she could guard this one goal very well. One out of three wasn't bad.

The goals and the Quaffle she could handle. The bludger was another. She had forgotten completely about that wicked ball before it crashed in from behind her. The pain hit sharp in her shoulder and she teetered forward off the front of her broom. A shrill scream tore from her lip. Hand gripped tightly on her broom, Hermione felt her weight bringing her quickly to the ground.

The others noticed and tore towards her, but they were on the other side of the field.

Hermione kept spirally to the ground. Her shoulder was throbbing both from the hit of the bludger, and from the strain of trying to hold onto the slipping broom. The broom was doing its best to slow her descent, but it wasn't enough.

Thirty feet of so from the ground, Hermione's palm became too sweaty. She lost her grip. Draco's fingers just missed grabbing her. Before he could react, Hermione fell the rest of the way.

Hermione saw stars as she lay on the ground. Tears were budding in the corner of her eyes. Everything was sore. Her arm was twisted to the side, and when she sat up and brought it to her, she guessed it was broken. Sprained at least.

Pulling her arm to her, she gasped at the pain. The tears were starting to fall now. Broken. Definitely broken.

"Are you alright?" Draco was beside her, hands going over as he searched for any injury. Noticing the forming bruises on her arm and the way she was holding it, he swore under his breath.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, placing a hand on his. "It's just a broken arm."

Giving her a look of disbelief, Draco sighed. "Just a broken arm? You say that like it's an everyday thing."

Hermione wanted to smile in response but her arm was starting to kill her. It wasn't the worst pain she had felt, but it wasn't the slightest either.

"Let's get you up." Draco slid a hand under her uninjured side, and helped her stand. Her ankle stung from the pressure, but she figured she could manage. The others were standing a bit away, ready to give help but not wanting to crowd the young couple. Hermione gave all the right reassurances as she and Draco made their way towards the Burrow, the others staying back to pick up and pack up the game.

The trip into the house was relatively short, and Hermione found herself in the kitchen, the victim of Molly's mothering. The woman was muttering about the dangers of Quidditch and her kids getting injured. Hermione took the prodding in stride, glaring at Draco as he smirked at her.

"Here you go dear," Molly said, handing her a coffee mug. "Drink up. It'll help with the pain. Once the arm stops hurting so much, you can have Draco apparate you to St. Mungo's. I might have far too much experience with broken bones, but it'll be best to have it professionally looked at."

"Thank you Molly." Hermione nodded graciously to the woman who had become and who had stayed a second mother to her. She downed the contents of the cup, suppressing the grimace at the taste. She handed the empty cup back to Molly, breathing a sigh of relief as her arm stopped hurting as much.

"Wash this for me will you?" Molly handed the mug to Draco, who didn't bother protesting as he went to the sink. It made Hermione smile as she thought about how easily Draco had fit into her family. Molly had opened her arms and accepted the blond. Hermione couldn't have been more thankful.

Her thought was interrupted as the pain in her arm began anew. She groaned, feeling the bones starting to piece themselves together. Draco was behind her, running a hand through her hair and another along her shoulder. She appreciated his touch as her bone began to knit itself whole.

It took about ten minutes before the bone stopped throbbing against her skin. She knew it wasn't completely healed, but it was no longer an unbearable pain. The others had started filling back into the house, a few muttering goodbyes before departing from the Sunday game.

"I'm sorry for running the game," Hermione apologized when Ginny and Harry.

"You didn't," Ginny replied.

Harry looked down at her arm. "Just glad you're not too hurt. Maybe Quidditch was too soon."

"You think?" Smirked Hermione.

Draco chuckled. "Are you feeling ready for the hospital?"

Hermione shifted her arm about. It didn't scream on movement, but it still hurt a tremendous amount. Nodding, she stood. Draco was behind her, a hand on her back in case she needed the support. They said their goodbyes, promising that they would deed be there next Sunday for breakfast and the game.

Once at the edge of the wards, Draco wrapped an arm around her waist. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Hermione answered. "Just want to get this thing checked out."

"I'm sorry. We should have been paying better attention."

Hermione nudged him with her elbow. "It wasn't anyone's fault. Besides, I'm hardly the first person to get injured due to this game, and I won't be the last. Now, take me to the hospital so you can take me home."

Draco smirked. He kissed her briefly before the two apparated off the grounds.