12. The Hospital Wing

Y/N's POV

"Lucky the ground was so soft."

"I thought he was dead for sure."

"But he didn't even break any bones."

I could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. I didn't have a clue where I was, or how I had got there, or what I had been doing before I got there. All I knew was that every inch of me was aching like I had been beaten.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Scariest...the scariest thing...hooded black figures...cold...screaming...

My eyes snapped open. I was lying in the Hospital Wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around my bed. Harry, Hermione and surprisingly Ron were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.

"Y/N!" said Issac, who was covered in mud. "How're you feeling?"

Everything started slowly coming back to me, the Dementors...the voice...someone getting killed...

"What happened?" I said, sitting up.

"You fell off," said Fred, "must've been... maybe...fifty feet?"

"We thought you'd died," said Angelina, who was shaking.

Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.

"But the match," I said, "what happened? Are we doing a replay?"

No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into me like a stone.

"We didn't...lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said George, "just after you fell. He didn't realise what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square...even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" I said, suddenly realising he wasn't there.

"Still in the showers," said Issac, "we think he's trying to drown himself."

I put my face to his knees, my hands gripping my hair. Fred grabbed my shoulder and shook it roughly.

"C'mon, Y/N, you've never missed the Snitch before."

"That had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.

"It's not over yet," said Fred, "we lost by a hundred points."

"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin..." Issac said.

"Hufflepuff will have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw..."

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff..."

"It all depends on the points, a margin of a hundred either way-"

I laid there, not saying a word. We had lost...for the first time ever, I had lost a Quidditch match.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave me in peace.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred told me, "don't beat yourself up. Y/N, you're still the best seeker we've ever had."

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking annoyed. Harry, Ron and Hermione moved nearer to my bed.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice, "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away...he was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him-"

"Then he got you onto a stretcher," said Harry, "and walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were..."

His voice faded, but I hardly noticed. I was thinking about what the Dementors had done to me. I looked up and saw Ron looking guiltily at me.

"I'm sorry about how the way I treated you Y/N."

"So now you're my friend again?"

"Well, I was thinking, if you died..." Ron trailed off.

I smiled. "It's good to have my best friend back."

I then paused, looked at the three of them and said,

"Did someone get my Nimbus?"

They all looked quickly at each other.

"Er-" said Ron.

"What?" I said, looking from one to the other.

"Well...when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.

"And?"

"And it hit-it hit-oh, Y/N, it hit the Whomping Willow."

My insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.

"And?" I said, dreading the answer.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron, "it-it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of my faithful, finally beaten broomstick.

I said nothing, but just looked at my broken Nimbus.

Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping me in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the weekend. I didn't argue or complain.

I had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering me up. Hagrid sent me a bunch of earwiggy flowers that looked like yellow cabbages, Ginny came and visited me and we had a nice conversation. The Gryffindor team visited again on Sunday morning, this time accompanied by Wood, who told me, in a hollow, dead sort of voice, that he didn't blame me in the slightest. Harry, Ron and Hermione left my bedside only at night.

I felt sick and humiliated every time I thought of the Dementors. Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one. No one else heard echoes in their head. Harry was an exception but he had been through a lot.

Now, since I had a lot of time, I finally figured who that screaming voice belonged to now. I had heard her words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the Hospital Wing while I laid awake, staring at the ceiling. When the Dementors approached me, I heard the last moments of my mother's life, her attempts to protect me from Lord Voldemort trying to take me away. Where was my father? Did he leave my mother to die?

It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where I was forced to think about other things, even if I had to endure Draco Malfoy's taunting. Malfoy was full of glee at Gryffindor's defeat. He had finally taken off his bandages and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of me falling off my broom. During Potions, he imitated Dementors, Ron made a comment which caused Snape to take points of Gryffindor.

"If Snape's teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as we headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch, "check who's in there, Hermione."

Hermione peered around the classroom door.

"It's okay!"

Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes, nevertheless, he smiled at the class as we took our seats, and we burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behaviour.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"

"We don't know anything about werewolves-"

"-two rolls of parchment!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

"Yes, but he said we were really behind-"

"-he wouldn't listen-"

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."

"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed, "I've already finished it!"

I sighed in relief, I hadn't had any time to do homework.

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