Chapter 30: The Killer Bludger

The next morning, the quidditch team ate earlier than usual and headed down to the pitch to prepare for the game. At eleven o'clock, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Hermione and I popped by the locker room to wish Harry good luck. Then we made our way to the stands to get a good seat.

We made it up, sitting beside Dean, Seamus, Parvati, and Lavender. They were closer to the front, so we had primo seats.

We looked up at the sky. It looked as if it were angry, and the air was muggy and uncomfortable.

"Hopefully I don't catch a cold." I said, absentmindedly, not realizing that Hermione had overheard me.

"Contrary to popular belief, it isn't the weather that causes you to get the common cold." she said, looking at the pitch.

"I'm sorry?"

"You mostly contract it by by skin-to-skin contact, saliva, touching a contaminated surface, or by airborne respiratory droplets." she said looking at me as if I should have known.

I gawked at her. "You sound just like a textbook."

"Why thank you."

We looked out and seen the team walking onto the pitch. Everyone but Slytherin cheered loudly. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were on our side this time. Mighty boos from Slytherin were overshadowed from the cheering, and in reverse when Slytherin came onto the pitch

Madam Hooch had Flint and Wood shake hands, which looked like death grips. Then, she blew the whistle, and they were off.

We watched as Slytherin quickly took the lead, much to everyone but green and gray's disappointment. The Nimbus 2001s were truly doing their jobs. It was embarrassing to watch. Not to mention that Harry looked like he was being stalked by a bludger, that Fred and George was trying to keep under control.

Soon, the score was sixty points to zero, Slytherin. The bludger wasn't letting up, and soon, my brothers were in either side of Harry, guarding him. They had decided to take a time out.

"That's weird, how that bludger seemed to be following Harry around like that." I said to Hermione.

"I noticed that too. You think someone is controlling it? Like Quirrell did with Harry's broom?" asked Hermione.

"Dunno. Possibly. Let's keep a lookout."

Soon, the teams had taken the field again, and once again, the bludger seemed to be following Harry around. People soon noticed, and were starting to laugh. True, Harry did look rather funny the way he moved around, but Hermione and I could tell that something was terribly wrong.

Hermione scanned the crowds as best she could for any signs of foul play. "I don't see anyone looking like they are saying anything out of the ordinary"

"Well somebody is doing something! I'm going to shoot it!" I said, pointing my wand towards the bludger.

"Are you mad?!" yelled Hermione, quickly pushing my arm down. "You could hit Harry! Not to mention your wand is broken, Ron!"

"Right." I sighed. "You're right."

I hated that we had to stand by and watch Harry being chased by the bludger. Even worse, Malfoy was taunting him from the looks of it.

Suddenly, it looked as if Harry had seen the snitch. He raced around trying to catch it, but also trying to avoid the bloody budget that was catching up with him, and it ended up slamming j to his elbow with a bone crunching sound that I'm pretty sure everyone heard.

Still, Harry didn't give out. He stretched his other arm out as far as he could and wrapped his fingers around the snitch! With a harsh thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. He was indeed in pain, but he held tightly k to the fluttering snitch, winning the game.

The crowd went wild. Everyone but the Slytherins were cheering and rejoicing. Hermione and I took off down the the field to check on Harry, why had appeared to pass out. As we may our way to where Harry was lying, so did Lockhart.

He reached him at the same time as we did. He pushed us back before we could say a word. Harry came to and saw his stupid face grinning down at him.

"Oh, no, not you." he moaned.

"Doesn't know what he's saying." said Lockhart loudly to the now growing crowd of Gryffindors around us. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"No!" said Harry, sounding out of it. "I'll keep it like this, thanks."

He tried to sit up, but looked too in pain to bare it. Colin broke out his camera and started snapping pictures.

"I don't want a photo of this, Colin!" yelled Harry.

"Lie back, Harry." said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times-"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth.

"He should really, Professor." said Wood, looking both concerned and proud. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say!"

Fred and George was wrestling with the rogue bludger, trying to get it back into the box.

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

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

We looked and seen a sight that was completely disgusting. Lockhart was bending Harry's now boneless arm back. It made the nastiest sound as it popped back up like a spring.

"Ah." said Lockhart, looking completely dumbfounded. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing - ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger (pointing a shaky finger at us) would you escort him? And Madam Pomfrey will be able to - er - tidy you up a bit."

As we helped Harry to move he looked down at his arm and swayed. He just realized the reality that he really didn't have not one bone in his arm.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up Harry's arm and somewhat flailing it around."I can mend bones in a second - but growing them back-"

"You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to stay the night..."

Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while I helped him into his pajamas. It took a while to stuff boneless arm into a sleeve.

"How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" I called through the curtain as I pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked."

"Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?"

"No," said Harry, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else either."

I was so angry. The man was a complete menace. If this didn't prove that he didn't know what the bloody hell he was doing, what would have?

Hermione and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of Skele-Gro.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a cupful and handing it to him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

Harry gulped the seemingly disgusting liquid down. Hermione handed him a glass of water to wash it down, while Pomfrey left us alone.

"We won, though" I said encouragingly. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face... he looked ready to kill..."

"I want to know how he fixed that Bludger." said Hermione, surprisingly accusingly.

We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff..."

"If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking." I said.

Soon, the Gryffindor team came to congratulate him. Hermione and I left him to his team and made our way back to the common room.

"So you really think Malfoy did it?" I asked her as we walked down the corridor that led to the steps that went to the tower. "You're usually not the one to accuse so quickly."

"Who else, Ron?" said Hermione, looking as if she were about to blow her top. "Who else would doing something as foul as that? Who else would want to hurt Harry that bad in school? We will find out soon enough."

I could sense the anger radiating off of her. Whenever Hermione got angry, some sort of magic in her made her hair frizz up even more. It was an interesting sight to see sometimes.

"You're right." I said, trying to stay on her good side so she would calm down. "It could very well be him. A lot of strange shit is happening at this school. I'm still angry at you though, Mione."

Hermione stopped. "Why? What did I do?"

I should have kept my mouth shut. But I had already stuck my foot in, so might as well stick the other one in while I was at it.

"Lockhart was fucking barmy."

Language Ron!"

"He didn't know what the bloody hell he was doing. What if that was more than just Harry's arm?"

Hermione hesitated a bit. "Maybe he was so anxious, he missed a word." She said as we climbed the steps.

"Or maybe he's a git who doesn't know what he is doing and shouldn't teach!" I yelled.

"You are the one who sounds like a git!"

"Oh really, Hermione? I'm the git? That wanker removed Harry's bones, but I'm the git?!"

"Okay!" said Hermione, putting up her hands. "Alright. Maybe, maybe he just didn't do it right. He should have let Madam Pomfrey handle it."

I sighed, calming down. Not often that Hermione would admit to being wrong.

"Think he will be okay?" asked Hermione, semi changing the subject.

"Pixie dust." I said to the Fat Lady, who opened and let us in. "Yeah, he should be alright. Harry has been through worse, you know?"

"Yeah." said Hermione, nodding. "He has."