Chapter 46: Boggarts, Blowups, and Brooms (Part Three)
By the time the Gryffindors made their way back up to the tower Harry was feeling much better. He would talk to Shiva in the morning after this day was over and done with but his friends had perked him quite a lot. He was mostly just frustrated with himself at this point.
And annoyed, that yet again, the universe had decided to call his bluff for tempting fate. Harry really had to start watching how he thought since Fate apparently liked to have a bit of fun with him.
No sooner had he finished that thought, he turned the corner to see a gaggle of his fellow Housemates staring in shock up at the portrait of the Fat Lady. Groaning and slapping a hand over his face, Harry started muttering about Fate being an evil little prankster.
"Who would do this…?" Lavender quietly asked. The Fat Lady's portrait had three large slashes down the center and the frame behind her canvas had marks of spellfire.
"Someone who wanted in," Neville said glaring at the portrait.
"Sirius Black! It was Sirius Black! Sirius Black tried to kiiiillllll meeeeee!" The Fat Lady gave a keening wail from one of the portraits a ways down the corridor. With a hitched sob the painted woman took off, leaping from portrait to portrait retreating from the slashed canvas.
"Err…" Ginny said looking around in confusion. "How do we get into the Common Room now?"
This Quidditch game was miserable. The rain was awful, his Reflector Lenses had the unfortunate side effect of repelling water-wicking charms so he could barely see, it was cold, and the stupid Dementors were making things even worse as they got closer.
'Wait. Dementors? Closer?'
Harry's broom careened to a halt as his conscious thoughts finally caught up to his unconscious grumblings. The storm had blanketed the grounds and masked the fog and cold of the Dementors. Harry had only seen them massing thanks to his height and continued circling for the Snitch. Flipping around, Harry peered into the darkness a short ways away only to see it moving. The horrible creatures were assembled and pushing towards the pitch in the middle of the game. Harry's eyes widened and he turned his Nimbus seeking out the box with McGonagall. He had…to…tell…
Not Harry! Please, not Harry!
"Well, bugger…" Harry muttered as the screams filled his head and he slid off the broom's side. As the wind whipped past his ears, Harry heard a dim roar of panic rise from the crowd. Harry slipped into unconsciousness thanking god that at least the people had noticed the Dementors.
Harry woke to a bland white ceiling hanging over him. A very familiar bland white ceiling. And a weight pressed against his side, trapping his arm.
Turning, Harry squinted and could make out brown hair splayed over the bed next to him. He smiled slightly and said, "Hey, Hermione. Any idea where my glasses are?"
The head leaning beside him shifted slightly. A dull murmur of protest rose before she twisted towards him. Hermione's blurry face centered on Harry's and suddenly she was a lot clearer as she jerked upright and leaned over him. "Harry! You're awake! Hang on, I have your glasses right here." Reaching off to the side, Hermione grabbed his glasses from the table and slipped them onto his face.
"Jeez, Harry, can't you even play a game like normal people?" Daphne snarked from the other side of his bed.
"I don't think 'normal' really means the same thing in Harry's personal dictionary, Daph," Tracey commented with a smirk.
"Perhaps 'normal' is another synonym for 'danger' or 'risking death' for Harry?" Luna asked in an airy voice, a faint smile on her lips.
"Hey, I've said it before and I'll say it again: worst good luck ever," Neville pronounced with a laugh from near Hermione.
"Nobody got hurt from the Dementors did they?" Harry asked looking between his five friends. He saw Shiva slumped across a bed across the way. "And is Shiva okay?"
Hermione smiled. "You're the one waking up in the hospital wing. Again. And the first thing you ask is if everyone else is okay." She shook her head. "What are we going to do with you, Harry."
"Technically, Hermione, the first thing he asked was where his glasses were. The nobility actually came second this time," Daphne said. "I think we're making progress even if it is incremental."
"Nah," Neville waved of her judgment. "He's got to be able to see to run off and save everyone. Doesn't really count."
"Is anyone going to answer my question?" Harry grumbled.
"No, no one was hurt besides you, Harry," Tracey said shaking her head. "Shiva is over there sleeping because she and a lot of the other Professors were busy casting Patroni to get the Dementors to back off. Hers was…a little more powerful than most of the others. Madam Pomfrey told her to rest to recover some of her stamina."
"Why was hers…"
Hermione shook her head. "We all saw you fall, Harry. You were very lucky. Professor Flitwick was close to you as you slipped off the broom and his quick relaxes let him hit you with an arresto momentum before you had picked up enough speed to receive more than bruises." Harry nodded and she continued, "Shiva was quite perturbed at the Dementors for nearly causing your death. Again. She was very enthusiastic with pushing them back. Professor Dumbledore told us all afterwards that they were likely drawn by the large crowd at the game."
"Oh," Harry said. "So is it rescheduled then?"
The group sadly shook their heads. "Sorry, Harry," Neville said mournfully. "Just before you fell, Cedric caught the Snitch. He didn't even realize something was wrong until the Professors starting jumping over the stands to get at the Dementors. He's been apologizing to everyone he could find about it. Even Oliver told him to shut up and that he doesn't blame him. You might want to talk to him later."
"Yeah. Guess I should." Harry sighed. While it sucked losing, he really couldn't complain considering how miserable the game had been anyway.
"Harry…" Hermione said. Harry turned back to her and saw her expression pinched and she was wringing her hands. His insides clenched. "Everybody was so focused on the Dementors that…well nobody really thought about your broom." His eyes widened and his breath hitched. "We tried to save it but…the winds pushed it into the Whomping Willow and by the time we realized it…I'm sorry Harry…"
Harry flopped back down into the bed. 'Bugger.' Careful to make sure his voice was steady, he asked, "Does anyone think I could sue the Ministry to pay for a new broom?" His friends gave the sad little laughs he had been hoping for. It may not be much, but it was something.
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