Madam Pomfrey agreed with Harry by the time we got to the hospital wing, but within the space of an hour, I felt much better and was starting to fidget in my bed, anxious to get out. I was even prepared to play a few hours of Quidditch if it meant leaving this place.

"I was just shook up," I insisted as the bell gave a shrill ring for the end of the last lesson of the day. "Please, Madam Pomfrey, I promise, I'll drop by for a check-up the moment I'm done and the rest of the team will be there to look out for me."

"Williams, Wood is too determined to win the Cup to think about much else," Madam Pomfrey snapped impatiently.

"Harry isn't," I rushed quickly. "You saw him earlier, he'd drag me here if he had to. Please? I'm going mad just sitting here!"

She straightened from the bed she was making, scowling at me as she scanned my expression. "One toe out of line, Williams," she warned under her breath, pointing a finger at me in warning.

I was so happy, I could have hugged her. Snatching my bag off the floor with a wide grin, I flung it over my shoulder and raced out of the room. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey!" She grumbled something back at me, but I was already out into the hall, bolting up toward the Gryffindor common room.

As I reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, it swung open of its own accord and a grim looking Harry stepped through with Ron and Hermione right behind him.

"Hey," Ron grinned. "We were just coming to see you before the feast."

"No need," I smiled. "Madam Pomfrey let me out for Quidditch practice and Lupin's detention."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Hermione frowned in concern. "You didn't look so good earlier."

"I was just shook up," I shrugged. "I'd barely been there for an hour and I felt better. Whatever it was, it's gone now and I want to carry on like normal, okay? That means stuffing my face at the feast then making myself sick at Quidditch practice."

Harry snorted. "So long at it isn't on one of us again, fine." I smirked at him, slipping past the three of them to drop my bag off in the dormitory. I ran into a few people in the common room who asked if I was alright, but I just smiled and dismissed their concerns easily before meeting with Harry, Ron and Hermione again outside.

The Feast passed by noisily and with many jokes, courtesy of Fred and George, usually at the expense of Percy or Wood. Everyone seemed to be a lot more relaxed. Even Hermione took a moment away from her books. By the time Harry and I were heading down to the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the team, I could barely remember the Boggart at all.

Wood bored us all to tears in the changing rooms while he ran through tactics over and over again. Apparently, we were facing Slytherin in our first match, and since their players were prone to breaking every rule imaginable, we had to be on top form. Fred and George were almost asleep by the time we were finally allowed out onto the pitch, and Wood was still hissing at Harry about how to get the better of Malfoy, the Slytherin Seeker.

"Angelina! Katie! Artemis!" Wood started yelling as the three of us attempted to mount our brooms.

"Here we go," Katie Bell grumbled at me with a roll of her eyes. I smirked slightly, but said nothing as Wood marched toward us, his face set in determination.

"You're going to have to pick up the pace," he told us. "Fast, evasive play. I want them all so annoyed, they're can't see past the red mist, got it?"

"Antagonising seven Slytherins," I sighed heavily. "It's like I was born to do this." Angelina and Katie laughed at me as the three of us mounted our brooms and kicked off from the ground.

Wood put us through our paces for almost three hours. He worked with Harry on techniques for his Seeker position, while Fred and George pelted Angelina, Katie and me with two Bludgers to sharpen our reflexes the hard way. Of course, they never aimed for us, just in our direction, and all the while, the three of us had to keep hold of the Quaffle and move between both ends of the pitch.

After we'd finished with that nearly two hours after the start of practice, Wood let us have a five minute break before letting the Snitch out for Harry to chase, conjuring targets for Fred and George to aim their shots at and taking his position by the goalposts so that Angelina, Katie and I could test his reflexes.

"At least we get to give him a taste of his own medicine," Angelina chuckled at me as Katie launched the Quaffle straight at the weak spot we'd found in Wood's vision. "The guys have no chance."

"That really depends," I grimaced watching Wood dive for the Quaffle as Harry sped past with a determined expression. "We could always use him as a moving target for Fred and George."

She laughed at me, ignoring Wood's miss and the resulting groan from Katie. "So it's just Harry then?"

I shrugged a shoulder at her with a wink, lunging forward to catch the Quaffle and take Katie's spot in front of the goalposts. "He'll live."

"HEARD THAT!" Harry yelled as he bolted past, forcing me to dip down to avoid colliding with him. I shot him a glower that he couldn't see, before turning to take my shot at Wood.

When we finally got back into the changing rooms, all seven of us were out of breath and exhausted, but satisfied with how training had gone. None of us, however, were very pleased to hear that we were required in training three times a week for the next month, when it would be increased to five.

"This is insane," I groaned at Harry as the whole team hiked back up toward the castle.

"Yeap," he nodded with a heavy sigh. "And you're running late for your detention with Lupin." Starting with a curse, I hurriedly shoved my broom into Harry's arms and yelled an apology at Wood before he could start pulling apart my performance on the pitch.

By the time I was skidding into Lupin's office, I was ten minutes late and gasping for breath. "Sorry I'm late, Professor," I choked as I shouldered the door open. "I was just finishing pra-"

I cut off as I caught sight of Snape, perched in a chair in front of Lupin's desk with a smug look on his face. Glancing back at me coolly, he pushed himself to his feet and straightened out his robes. "I'll be keeping an eye out, Lupin," he said in a drawling voice. It sounded oddly like a threat, and from the look on Lupin's face, I hadn't been wrong. Without another word, Snape spun on his heel and pushed his way past me.

"Is everything okay, Professor?" I frowned, closing the door behind him and inching closer to the desk cautiously.

"Um? Oh, of course," he smiled distractedly. "Now, how can I help you?"

I blinked. "I'm here for detention, Professor."

Lupin looked mildly surprised. "Oh . . . of course. Well, it's getting late and you've had a rough day, perhaps we should rearrange for tomorrow?"

I stared at him in shock. It took me a moment or two to be able to speak, and when I did, I found myself frowning at him in confusion. "What? Professor, honestly, I have never been let off so easily for attacking a Slytherin before in my life." Lupin sent me a stunned look, his eyes wide. "Not that I do it frequently!" I rushed with my hands held out in defence.

He didn't look like he believed me, rolling his eyes wryly. "I believe that today, after the day you have had, we can make an exception. Don't ever let me catch you attacking a student again."
"Sure," I nodded with a small smirk. "You won't catch me." He raised an eyebrow at me. "Kidding, Professor."

"Why don't I believe you?" he mumbled, shaking his head exasperatedly.

"I wouldn't know, Professor," I sighed.

"I'll see you in tomorrow's lesson, Artemis," he said, trying and failing to conceal a smile. "Until then, I suggest you get some rest. You look shattered."

"Quidditch practice," I dismissed with a yawn. "Oliver Wood kept us out on the pitch for three hours, and he's making us do it three times a week until next month, then five times a week until the season's finished."

"Sounds tiring," he agreed. "May I ask why you agree to play the game if it annoys you so much?"

I thought about it for a long time, trying to find any answer that didn't involve Harry. It worried me slightly that I couldn't think of a single one. "I don't mind it so much," I shrugged eventually, and Lupin gave me a strange look, his eyes shining. "Honestly, I like playing it, I just can't stand the analysis afterward. And it's all anyone ever talks about."

"It can get a little wearing," he nodded with a small chuckle. "However, I hear the Gryffindor team is the best side at Hogwarts these days."

"Um," I replied. "Has been since Harry took the Seeker position. He hasn't lost a match yet, unless you count the one he was unconscious for in the first year, or the ones we missed last year when the season was cancelled."

"I guess you couldn't," Lupin laughed. "And you're a Chaser, I hear?"

"Yeah," I grimaced. "A girl called Alicia Spinnet got injured in practice before the season started last year, and over the summer, I'd made the mistake of playing with Harry and the Weasley's. Fred and George told Wood, and I'd have never heard the end of it if I'd said no. They were determined to win."

"Well, I'll be sure to watch your first match," he smiled. "Until then, you should get some rest. Sounds like you have a lot of practice to be getting on with."

"Yes, Professor," I sighed wryly. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Artemis."

Smiling once in Lupin's direction, I let myself out of his office and started back down the corridor toward the common room. Only then did I realise my left forearm felt strangely numb. Looking down, I was startled to see blood staining the sleeve of my robe. A lump formed in my throat, but instead of turning for the hospital wing, I set out in a run toward the common room, my feet pounding the stone floors as I held my left forearm to my stomach. I almost yelled the password at the Fat Lady, who grumbled something about me being rude before swinging open and letting me jump inside.

The common room was deserted, all apart from three figures huddled around the fireplace, which was roaring animatedly in the background, casting a golden glow over the room. All of them looked up as I entered, and Harry leapt to his feet, his face chalky white and his hand clamped over his forearm. Blood was trickling between his fingers.

"Oh my," Hermione muttered, pushing herself to her feet and steering me toward the chair beside Harry. "Look at the two of you!"

"This is messed up," Ron scoffed.

"You think?" Harry spat irritably, falling down beside me. "Tomorrow, we start looking for whatever the hell is causing this."

"Right," I mumbled. "I didn't even realise it was bleeding until I left Lupin's office. If he had seen this . . ."

"But he didn't," Harry pointed out softly, his irritation dying down slightly as he looked at me. I wasn't sure why I couldn't muster the same anger he could, especially since it usually came so easy, but right now, all I felt was a panic gripping my chest tightly. "We'll figure it out, Arty," he assured me.

I gulped and nodded, trying to ignore the way Ron and Hermione exchanged a bewildered look. "Until then, at least let me bandage it," Hermione pleaded, shaking herself and gently pulling my forearm away from my stomach. I winced through my teeth, but watched her roll the sleeve back and reach back toward a bowl of water and cloth I hadn't seen before. Ringing the cloth out tightly, she gently wiped away as much blood as she could and wrapped it up before turning to Harry.

"The dressing might need changed tomorrow morning," she muttered at us. "Just be careful."

"I really hope it's as easy as it sounds," I sighed.