A Mark of Betrayal

A Victorious Defeat

"Oi, you two! Get off of each other."

"Hey! I was only giving her a good luck kiss!"

"Well, it looked like you were giving her much more than a kiss, if you ask me."

Ginny blushed, and Dean gave her a quick peck on the cheek before joining Harry.

"Right team. This is it, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, right? Look out for each other out there; Hufflepuff hasn't played dirty before, but they may have decided to change that. We need to keep that team spirit up. Everyone knows that we're the best team, so let's go out onto the pitch and show them what we're made of!"

Parvati nodded "You're right Harry, we all need to keep the team spirit, we stick together."

They walked out onto the match to a wave of noise and Harry grinned as he heard the familiar chant that had accompanied his every Quidditch game, "Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!" This and the tumultuous applause made the sound deafening and Harry winced as his ears burned. He strode over to where Madam Hooch stood with the Hufflepuff captain.

"Potter, Bones, shake hands."

He let go quickly and retreated a few steps swinging his leg over his Firebolt as he went.

"Mount your brooms...on my whistle...three - two - one -"

Harry kicked off hard into the air, his Firebolt taking him higher and faster than anyone else. Taking a moment to savour the adrenaline rush, he then zoomed off, keeping a look out for bludgers, as he scanned the pitch several feet above the match. Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff Seeker, seemed to be doing the same at the other end of the pitch. There was no sign of the Golden Snitch, so Harry tuned out the running commentary being done by Daryl Stephenson, a sixth year Hufflepuff. The former commenter, Lee Jordan, had left Hogwarts last year to work for Fred and George in their joke shop. Harry was expecting a rather Hufflepuff biased commentary but was pleasantly surprised.

"Hufflepuff in possession straight away... an unexpected pass from Bones to Nott... aargh... no... intercepted by Longbottom who shoots and... HE SCORES! Gryffindor 10 Hufflepuff 0... Claimed by Chaser Frost... oh... hit by a bludger from their beater... OUCH!... that must have hurt... practise needed there no doubt about it... meanwhile another intercept... by Chaser Ron Weasley this time, streaking towards his sister Chaser Ginny Weasley... short delivery, nice tactic... Ginny Weasley in possession passes to Chaser Longbottom behind Frost... Longbottom passes back to Chaser Ron Weasley who dodges a pelting bludger from beater Perks... Chaser Weasley darts towards goalposts, a scarlet blur, he shoots..."

Everyone froze in mid-air to watch this promising goal, as Ron watched it with a look of determination.

"HE SCORES! Gryffindor 20, Hufflepuff 0. Chaser Nott in possession... nice pick up... no trouble there..."

WHAM, Ron was hit in the face hard by a bludger. Harry watched helpless as a silent horror movie played in seemingly slow-motion, before his eyes. He winced as Ron's blood splattered... watched as Ron clapped his hands to his face in pain, slipped off his broom and plummeted at least 50 feet to the ground, where he lay unmoving, evidently knocked out by the fall.

"Ooooh, Chaser Weasley hit in the face with a Bludger... just after scoring... what a shame... time-out called for as Weasley is attended to... Gryffindor 20, Hufflepuff 0."

Six worried scarlet blurs whizzed down to Ron's aid, one of them carrying Ron's broom, having retrieved it before it flew off by itself. Ron's nose was thick with blood and some of it was smeared on his cheeks from when he had clapped his hand to his face, his nose was definitely broken. The Gryffindor team encircled him, trying to revive their Chaser, to no avail.

"Oh, do you think he's all right?"

Harry bit his lip. "Should be..."

Hermione caught his eye and they both grimaced. She studied Ron's still form on the ground; his fringe was masking his eyes, a vivid red on pale skin. Reaching over, she swept it from his eyes and sat down pulling Ron onto her lap. Harry sat down next to her, feeling her tremble next to him.

"Oh no...." Looking up to see her face, Harry saw that she looked panicked. He followed her gaze; she was frantically groping around Ron's neck for a pulse, her hand slipping on Ron's blood as she steadily became more and more panicked. Harry took Ron's wrist, felt with his fingers, and to his immense relief felt a steady pulse there.

"He's all right," Harry said to himself more than anyone else. Harry's heart skipped a beat, Ron was fine, he wasn't... dead. The group sighed heavily with relief. Harry smiled and put an arm around Hermione; she let out a sob and smiled through tears as the rest of the group burst into talk.

"Everyone move out of the way now please." Two shadows loomed over them, and the crowd parted, falling silent as Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall stepped forward.

Dumbledore looked down at Ron with a look of sympathy. "No need to worry yourselves, he's just unconscious from the fall with a broken nose from the Bludger, and if I'm not mistaken, he has broken a rib; it is a rather painful injury if I must say so, but no matter, he'll be up and about in no time." He waved his wand and said, "Accio stretcher."

A faint whooshing noise grew steady louder, stopping abruptly as a stretcher marked with the Hogwarts crest screeched to a sudden halt beside them, half tangled with a hospital bed sheet. Freeing the bed sheet with a flick of his wand, Dumbledore turned back to Ron.

He raised his wand and spoke "Mobilicorpus," and as though held by invisible strings, Ron floated up, his hands held loosely at his side, his head lolling disgustingly; blood splattered his face from his nose up. Guiding Ron with his wand, Dumbledore lowered him onto the stretcher and fastened the straps.

"Good day to you all," Dumbledore said as he turned and left, the stretcher following him.

Harry was left mouthing wordlessly, without a conscious best friend or a conscious Chaser. It was here that Harry realised Professor McGonagall had not left, but was waiting to speak to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.

She turned to a very pale Hermione. "No need to worry, I'm sure Mr Weasley will be up and about in no time."

"Right team, as you can probably tell, you're missing a Chaser. I suggest you continue to play with only two, that is, unless you can find someone to fill in the remaining minutes of time-out." She gave Harry a nod, and left, leaving the Gryffindor team in a bit of a muddle.

Harry turned to Ginny. "Now what are we go-" Harry broke off as Ginny's face lit up.

She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him towards the stands. "Lavender."

"What?"

She began to lead him up the stairs towards the remaining sixth year Gryffindors.

"I'll explain later. Come on!" They edged along, stopping short of the bewildered Lavender.

"Is Ron okay?"

"Yeah, he's just unconscious. He'll be fine...

Ginny cut in "Listen, Lavender, we'd be really grateful if you'd fill in as Chaser."

Lavender seemed to consider it for a moment, but it was clear what her answer would be. She beamed, "I'd love to." She shot up, brushing hair from her face, and suddenly looking elated.

"Lead the way."

~*~

Harry smiled gratefully. "Thanks for this, you're a lifesaver," he yelled, struggling to be heard over the noise;

Lavender had got changed into spare robes surprisingly quickly and they were walking onto the pitch, again being greeted with a tremendous noise and the same chant from the Gryffindors.

"Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!"

The Hufflepuff team was waiting grumpily for the game to restart, evidently miffed that they'd found a substitute for Ron. Madam Hooch stood nearby, ready with her whistle.

"Three - two - one-"

"And they're off... yet again... Lavender Brown is filling in for Chaser Ron Weasley... Ron Weasley has a broken nose and rib... get well soon, Ron... Hufflepuff is now in possession... Frost is whizzing towards the Gryffindor end... IS IT GONNA BE A GOAL? HUFFLEPUFF YOU NEED TO SCORE!"

Harry's neck cricked as he spun around, he could see the small figure that was Hermione, hovering in the front of the middle hoop ready to intercept. He crossed his fingers.

"Come on Hermione, you can do it..." He could see the canary yellow shape that was Frost, dodging and darting his way through the many Gryffindor players which were trying to obstruct his way, as he flew towards the goalposts where Hermione lingered, ready and alert.

"Frost gaining speed now... dodging... darting... Beater Patil hit's a Bludger his way... DODGES THAT TOO!... He's on a roll!" Daryl yelled "he shoots... she lunges... aargh... Quaffle diverts towards other end... HE SCORES... Gryffindor 20 Hufflepuff 10." A tidal wave of noise erupted from the Hufflepuffs watching.

"Hufflepuff catching up... Snitch needs to be caught soon, Potter, Finch- Fletchley..."

Harry shook his head and focused, he needed to find the snitch. Being Gryffindor Captain and Seeker required utmost attention, not only did he have to catch the Snitch; he also had to look out for other members and keep an eye out to see what was going on elsewhere. The Hufflepuffs were catching up and Gryffindor could not afford for them to score again. After giving Hermione a sympathetic look, he turned and soared up higher so that he had a good overview of the match. It was in a moment of fierce joy that he saw it. Hovering near the Gryffindor entrance close to the ground was the Golden Snitch. Harry smirked.

"Chaser Frost in possession... dodges bludger hit by own beater... Beater Harrop needs much more practise... passes Chaser Weasley... neat pass round Chaser Longbottom... he's going for the kill..."

Harry took a deep breath, directed his broom, bent his head low to his broomstick and shot off towards the Snitch like a bullet.

"Hold your horses; Seeker Potter has dived for the snitch... COULD THIS BE IT?"

Now it was everyone else's turn to watch in hope. Harry lay stretched out on his Firebolt as it rocketed towards the golden snitch, his face screwed up in concentration.

Harry tried to ignore the roaring of noise that was invading his hearing. "Come on... faster... just a little bit more..." Finch-Fletchley who had been quick to react to Harry's dive was slowly but surely gaining on him. The snitch had shot off and Harry urged his broom to go even faster. The Golden Snitch was within arm's reach now, Harry reached out, his hand steady, but the Snitch dodged his attempts and as always it was extremely hard to catch it. Harry was beginning to lose hope when he made a wild grab for it and was astonished to see it clutched in his sweaty palms, its tiny silver wings fluttering in a bid for escape.

"Gotcha"

He dived close to the ground and jumped off, landing hard on his feet. Feeling slightly dizzy with excitement he raised his Firebolt triumphantly in his hand. He'd caught it, they'd won. The roaring noise had been lifted and he could now hear all the victorious applause and cheers from Gryffindor. He looked down from the crowd to see teammates touch down around him, Gryffindors spilled out of the stands; they ran to join him, all clapping him on the back, escalating into a many-armed hug. Amid the many bodies and arms he pushed his hand up, bursting through into the air, he waved the snitch victoriously above the mass, grinning. The applause and cheers, which had declined a little, started off again louder than before. Before Harry knew it, the crowd had hoisted him up and they were marching in a raucous crowd up towards the school. Watching anxiously while the team rushed into the castle, Harry slapped away the hands holding him, until he fell to the ground. Brushing himself clean he dodged around the crowd, and followed the team. Looking back before the doors slammed shut, he smiled as he saw elated Gryffindors attempting to lift up Madam Hooch. Picking up pace he made his way towards the Hospital Wing.

A rather reproving Madam Pomfrey let the worn out team in.

She jerked her head over her shoulder, looking reproachful. A boy was sleeping behind her and they saw that half his face was covered in thick silky red fur "Try to keep talking to a minimum." The team turned away from her and with frowns on their faces, looked at their battered Chaser.

Ron looked worst for wear, although the blood had been cleared up from around his nose and face, his nose was still rather red, as if he had a cold, Harry presumed this was the magic potion Ron had drank repairing the bone from inside. Sure enough on the side table next to his bed was a dark blood red bottle labelled Boneraparous. Harry pulled up a chair and sat down next to Ron, closely surveying his best friend. Apart from his red nose, he was unusually pale. Harry noticed his hands lying loosely next to him and he reached out to feel one, shivering as he felt the coldness of Ron's skin.

"We won Ron. That means we're well on our way to winning the Cup." Ron was silent. "What have you done, Ron...?"

He addressed the team. "We'd better go." Hermione had wrapped her arm around Ginny, who was looking rather horrified.

"Your brother's going to be fine." Hermione did not fool anyone; they could see her hand tremble as she said it. Harry stood up promptly and headed for the door, the rest of the team followed him. Harry kept the door open as they all left, giving each of them a smile as they passed until they were all gone. Harry looked back at Ron and frowned slightly to see Ginny and Hermione hadn't moved at all, but were still standing there watching a stationary Ron from the foot of his bed. He abandoned his place at the door and walked over in front of them deliberately blocking their view of Ron so that they would notice him. They looked up at him numbly.

His voice was resolute, "I don't know what you're all worried about. He's just broken his nose that's all... honestly, it's nothing to worry about. He'll be calling us all stupid for worrying in next to no time." He placed a hand on each of there shoulders and strongly guided them out of the room.

"Talk about melodramatic..." Harry joked. His smile slid off his face as he trailed behind the team towards Gryffindor tower. It may have just been a broken nose and rib, but the whole incident had shaken him.