Saturday dawned stormy and muggy, and Hermione was reluctant to allow Tracey to drag her along to Quidditch.
"It's Slytherin versus Gryffindor!" she insisted. "If there's one match you can't miss, it's this one!"
Hermione spent breakfast wondering who she'd rather win – Slytherin, or Gryffindor. Slytherin would win, she was hoping, but practically speaking, wouldn't Harry and Hagrid both be in a better mood to discuss Hagrid's expulsion after the game if Harry won?
She resolved that she'd cheer for Slytherin, regardless of what would be better. It's not like cheering for a team did much of anything, and she'd have been lynched for daring to consider cheering for Harry if anyone in Slytherin knew.
At eleven o'clock, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium, Gryffindor and Slytherin players peeling off to head for the locker rooms.
"Good luck, Draco!" Pansy called out after him as he pulled away, and Draco raised a half-hearted hand at her cheer as he headed off.
"Is it just me, or does Malfoy seem reluctant to put up with Pansy lately?" Millie asked.
Tracey snorted. "Can you blame him?"
"He always used to put up with it, though," Blaise mused. "He liked the attention, even if she is a clingy fright."
"When did it change, do you think?" Hermione asked. "Do you think around Pansy's troll blood incident?"
Millie considered. "Maybe…?"
The stadium was already roaring with noise by the time they arrived and took their seats. When the teams walked out onto the pitch, the cheers and boos were deafening. Flint and Wood were asked to shake hands, and it looked like they were silently trying to strangle the other's hand.
The players mounted their brooms, waiting for their signal.
"Tell me," Blaise murmured to Hermione. "Honestly — who do you think is going to win?"
Hermione bit her lip, before admitting, "Gryffindor."
Blaise gave her a look. "Even with Slytherin on Nimbus 2001's?"
"We've got the better brooms, but they've got the better players," Hermione said quietly. "And Harry's a Quidditch prodigy. I can't imagine him losing a match that he's able to play."
Blaise rolled his eyes but turned away, and the whistle blew.
The match started fast, and it was vicious. Already the Slytherin Chasers were fighting fairly dirty, cobbing wherever they could get away with it where Madam Hooch wouldn't see. They scored three goals fairly quickly before Hermione realized something odd was going on.
Harry was circling overhead, as usual, looking for the Snitch, but Fred and George Weasley were also flying high, looking furious as they swung their Beater's bats around.
"Is that Bludger chasing Harry?" Hermione said, incredulous. "Is it only going after him?"
Tracey turned to look. "Oh my…"
It was. The Bludger was only going after Harry, reversing course and trying its best to knock Harry off his broom. It had started raining, and Fred and George were so close to Harry to fend it off that it was a miracle they hadn't already crashed.
A moment later there was a whistle as Oliver Wood called a time out, and the Gryffindor team landed and huddled on the ground, the Slytherin team jeering. There looked to be fierce arguing on the ground, and Hermione bit her lip.
"They're going to have to call for an inquiry," Tracey said. "There's no way that Bludger wasn't tampered with."
"They won't," Hermione said, certain. "They'd have to forfeit the match to stop it in the middle, and there's no way Harry is going to risk that. He'd rather risk the Bludger than risk losing the match."
"Are you serious?" Blaise snorted. "Twisted priorities, that one's got."
Hermione shrugged. "I'm not disagreeing."
The game resumed, the Gryffindor Beaters staying lower to the pitch now, playing with the one normal Bludger, now. Harry was on his own with the rogue Bludger, zigzagging and spiraling to dodge it as it came after him again and again. It was more obvious than ever that something was decidedly up as Harry swooped and rolled to avoid getting hit, and Hermione gnawed on her lip as she watched him, anxious.
"Oh, no," Blaise groaned from next to him. "Malfoy, don't…"
Hermione watched as Draco flew by Harry, obviously yelling something at him as Harry had to do a stupid-looking sort of twirl in midair to avoid the Bludger. Draco was laughing, and Harry hung in the air a long moment, glaring at Draco.
He stayed still too long — Hermione watched as the Bludger smashed into his arm, and there was a sickening "ooh" from the crowd. A moment later, though, Harry dodged it coming at him again and sped directly toward Draco, his face fierce, and Draco went careening out of Harry's way.
"Is Potter attacking him?" Blaise said, aghast. "There's no way that's—"
"No," Hermione said as the whistle blew. "The Snitch. It was right behind Draco — he never even saw."
Incredibly, Blaise began to snicker as the Gryffindors cheered.
"Flint is not going to be happy about this," Blaise said with relish. He didn't seem torn up about Slytherin's loss at all. "Oh, Malfoy is not going to get off easy for this one."
Harry landed and collapsed on the ground in a dead faint, and Hermione stood to hurry through the stands to get to Harry. The crowds were thick, and by the time Hermione made it to the bottom of the stands and slipped out, Harry had been moved to the side of the field, still unconscious in the rain.
"I can help!" Lockhart was saying, waving his arms around. "When I was fighting the Wagga Wagga Werewolf—"
Hermione saw Harry shift and groan on the ground.
"Oh, no, not you," he moaned, and Hermione snickered.
"Doesn't know what he's saying!" Lockhart said loudly. "Not to worry, Harry—"
Hermione didn't know how to mend bones — she hadn't learned healing charms that advanced. Instead, she went over to the Weasley twins, who were wrestling with the rogue Bludger, trying to get it into a box. It was still fighting them, trying to get to Harry.
"Hermione!" George called. "A little help here!"
Hermione withdrew her wand, before she paused and considered.
"If I jinx it, and it's already been jinxed, it could explode," she said.
"And that would be a bad thing, at this point?" Fred objected, struggling, and Hermione shrugged.
"It depends. Do you want to be able to trace who jinxed it or not?"
The Weasley Twins exchanged a glance.
"Try this," Hermione said. "George, can you take off your Quidditch robes while Fred holds it down?"
Following Hermione's instructions, the Weasley twins finally managed to capture the Bludger in George's muddy robes, swinging it around and twisting it into a bundle it couldn't struggle free from.
"Finally." Fred gave the struggling bundle a dark look.
"How do we track down who cursed it?" George said. "Is that even possible?"
"Maybe?" Hermione said. "Probably? Hopefully? It'll require some investigation. Just keep the Bludger — everyone's too distracted to notice."
Indeed, there was a ruckus near Harry, and as George stashed his robes under Fred's, Hermione went over just in time to see Lockhart twirl his wand at Harry's arm.
Hermione watched in horror as Harry's arm seemed to deflate in front of her eyes, gasping along with the crowd. The Gryffindor first year was clicking away madly, taking photos.
"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind."
"Professor, maybe he should get to the Hospital Wing?" Hermione suggested. She pushed through the throng of people to help Harry to his feet. He looked woozy.
"An excellent idea, Miss Granger," Lockhart said, clapping his hands. "Madam Pomfrey will be able to— er— tidy him up a bit. Yes, please escort him… if you would excuse me…"
Hermione could tell the moment Harry looked at his arm; he staggered in her arms.
"What did he—" Harry breathed. "Hermione, I can't feel anything—"
"He didn't mend your bones," Hermione told Harry. "He removed them."
Harry looked horrified.
"Let's be glad he at least was only aiming at your arm and not your chest, yes?" Hermione said pleasantly. "Now, Harry, if you stay still for just a moment — I just so happen to know a charm designed for moving bodies through the air…"