Bludgers, Broomsticks, Snitches and ...Snape?

Chapter 4: "Old Wounds, New Wounds"

Harry watched as Snape kicked off hard from the ground and soared high into the air. If he wants to do this, then we'll do it, thought Harry as he mounted his own broom, the golden snitch still clasped tightly in his right hand.

He soared upwards towards where Snape was waiting for him in mid air. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Harry threw the snitch to the sky. It hovered for a few seconds next to Snape's left ear and then streaked away towards the goal post at the right end of the pitch.

Snape was off. He sped past at very close range causing a rush of air to brush over Harry. Harry followed a split second later. When they reached the goals however the snitch had disappeared. Harry continued to fly around the vicinity at break neck speed. In and around the goal posts, diving down to ground level and then shooting skywards again all the while keeping a keen eye out for anything that flashed or glinted around him. Snape was also keeping up a cracking pace. They wove in and around each other as they circled the pitch. There was no doubt that Snape was a fair flyer; he matched Harry's movements at every turn.

For fifteen minutes they continued, pitting their skill and reflexes against each other. Harry was streaking from one end of the pitch to the other at a fair height above the ground. He could sense Snape right behind him; hear the flapping of his robes as the air rushed past them - then suddenly, nothing.

Harry glanced around at the sudden lack of fluttering robes behind him - Snape was gone. Harry glanced downwards and there he was, hurtling towards the ground with his arm outstretched and his fingers spread wide. Harry's stomach dropped. He couldn't let Snape get this, he just couldn't. He leaned forward and flew into a steep dive, closing in on Snape's tail. Closer and closer he drew until they were almost level. Harry loosened his right hand's grip ready to reach out - but where was it? There was nothing there except the grass looming towards his face, faster and faster.

He pulled out of the dive just as Snape did. His insides were writhing with anger. He could see Snape sneering at him. He couldn't believe he had fallen for such a classic Quidditch move - one he himself had used against Malfoy.

Swearing under his breath he took off again with a heightened hunger for the Snitch. He circled and circled. The sun had fully risen now and was bathing everything in a soft golden light - though making it difficult to see into one side of the pitch. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Snape doing the same, his billowing shadow stretching out across the grass.

And then finally Harry saw it - a flash of light by the goal post ahead. It had been brief but it was definitely something that had caught the light. He accelerated slightly so as not to arouse suspicion from Snape, who was circling around about 20 metres behind Harry.

Harry got closer and closer, his eyes searching from one post to the other. And then there it was - hovering by the right hand goal post. At that moment he saw Snape's shadow rippling across the grass behind him - he was close.

A moment later Snape's broom slammed into the side of Harry's causing him to swerve off course. He shot Snape a filthy look before swerving back where their shoulders collided.

The snitch was there in front of him. He stretched out his fingers. Snape's hand flew out beside him, his elbow pushing painfully into Harry's side. Harry gripped his broom tighter with his left hand to keep himself steady; Snape's elbow was pushing him sideways. Harry pushed himself back up to sit straight again despite the pain in his ribs.

He was almost there, he almost had it in his grasp, then suddenly, he felt his broomstick jerking away from him. He slid forwards grasping for a part of the broom to hold onto but all he found was air. Then crack! - Everything went black.

**********

Harry felt warm and comfortable, but where was he? He wriggled the fingers of his right hand but there was nothing there, where was the snitch? Why was everything so soft beneath him? He opened his eyes blearily. Everything in front of him was blurred and hazy. He tried to lift his left arm up towards his face but couldn't move it far.

"Wha...? He croaked and then he heard scuffling from the corner and a blurry face loomed in front of him.

"Harry, your awake," said a soft voice that he recognized as Hermione's. He heard a chair being scrapped across the floor. "We were just about to leave for the night...here," she said giving him his glasses. He put them on with his right hand; his left still refusing to move. Everything suddenly came into focus. There was Hermione sitting in a hard backed wooden chair by his bed wearing a worried expression, and next to her, Ron also looking down at him.

Harry glanced down to his left side. His arm was strapped up in a sling, tight to his body. He tried to move his head but it felt to heavy so he strained his eyes around the room instead. He was in the hospital wing. It felt like evening - all the curtains had been drawn and various lamps were lit around the room. There was one next to his bed illuminating Hermione and Ron in a warm glow.

"How did I get here? What time is it?"

"Almost eight-thirty mate, we've been in here all day waiting for you to wake up," said Ron glancing at Hermione.

"Eight-thirty...Eight-thirty at night? You mean I've been in here all day?"

"Since Professor Snape brought you up this morning," Hermione said nodding. "Harry...what, what were you do-?"

"I thought I told you both it was time to leave?" Madam Pomfrey's voice rang across to them from her office doorway. They turned towards her, Harry struggled to move his leaden head.

"Oh, Mr Potter, you're awake! Nasty accident you had, very nasty, how are you feeling?" she asked, now bustling over to his bedside with her hand outstretched reaching for his forehead.

"I'm fine," Harry said hastily trying to sit up. He managed to push himself up a few centimeters off the pillow, but his head felt so heavy and the room started to swim in front of him. Madam Pomfrey's hand reached his forehead and he fell back against the pillow again.

"Mmm, I was able to mend your arm quite easily, just need to rest it. The lump on your head will take a few days though, that was quite a blow you took - It was lucky Professor Snape was there to bring you straight up." She now moved her hand to the left side of his head and a sudden pain hit him. He took a sharp intake of breath. " I have something

that will help take the swelling down, you can take some now," she said, and she bustled past Ron and Hermione again to the other end of the Infirmary.

Harry's eyes were watering from the pain on the side of his head, he could see Hermione and Ron still looking down at him. Wait till I tell them how this happened. I can't believe it! Sna -

"Here we go." Madam Pomfrey came back with a small glass filled with some sort of potion; it was orange and looked rather sludgy. She handed it to him. "Drink that and it will help. Come on young man," she said rather impatiently as Harry looked at the orange 'sludge'.

After his last experiences with medicinal potions he was a little hesitant in taking the glass to his lips, especially after the Skele-Grow encounter. He was relieved to find, however, that this was not as bad. It was quite sweet tasting, though rather thick and difficult to swallow.

"Right you two," Madam Pomfrey said as she took the empty glass from Harry, "it's almost nine, you need to get back to Gryffindor Tower."

"Can they just stay for a few minutes longer?" Harry asked quickly. His memory of events was fast returning and he wanted some answers, as well as retelling the incident to Ron and Hermione.

Absolutely not, it's late. They can come to see you again tomorrow," Madam Pomfrey said firmly. "Off you go."

"See you mate, we'll see you first thing tomorrow," said Ron, throwing a disgruntled look at Madam Pomfrey behind her back.

"Night Harry," Hermione said quietly and then she followed Ron towards the door.

Harry watched as the door closed behind them. Madam Pomfrey continued to fuss around him for a few moments.

"Will I be able to leave tomorrow?" Harry asked her as she extinguished some of the lamps around the infirmary.

"Not for a few days, and I don't want any arguments," she added, seeing Harry open his mouth with an air of complaint. "That was a nasty knock you took to the head. You're not leaving until the swelling has gone down and I am completely satisfied. It wont hurt to give your arm a rest as well - at least I actually had some bones to mend this time!"

Harry sighed. A dull throb was still persisting on the left side of his head.

"And Snape brought me up?"

"That's right," Madam Pomfrey said now laying an extra blanket across Harry's bed.

"Did he tell you what happened?"

"He said that you were both out for a morning practice, getting ready for the school match. Lost your balance - hit your head square into the goal post. Over eager in your attempt to get the snitch I presume. Broke your arm from the fall to the ground. It was lucky for you that Professor Snape was there."

Harry lifted his right hand to his head. "Yeah, lucky me," he said softly, feeling the large golf ball sized lump at the side of his head.