Harry dodged the bludger for the umpteenth time. For some reason, even the Weasley twins couldn’t seem to stop it. If only he had brought his wand- he knew exactly the spell he could use to trap it in a six foot spherical shield, floating in midair, for hours. But alas, he’d left it in his regular robes, down in the changing room. He couldn’t even pull an Etrah magic trick on it- not only was he more than fifty feet in the air, but it was wrapped in the fabric of his robes and stored in a metal locker.
Then, he realized, he had just done something he hadn’t thought was possible.
He had made his broom back up in midair, to dodge the bludger.
He rotated in place to face the bludger, stared it down. He had an idea.
Fred came charging in from the left.
The bludger dodged him, and shot straight for Harry’s nose.
Harry, meanwhile, dodged mostly backwards and a little upwards, and leaned to his left.
Then, he caught the bludger under his right arm, held it tight against his body. He also held tight to his broom- and, while he could feel the ball struggling to escape him, he knew it was going to throw off his accuracy in a charge, meaning he would have to ditch it in order to have any hope of catching the Snitch.
It didn’t take long for the Slytherin seeker- Harry didn’t know the third-year’s name, but he did know the boy looked like a bodybuilder- to take notice, and start jeering at Harry for his erratic motions.
He looked, then drew to a halt.
Right there, over the Slytherin seeker’s ear, was the Snitch.
He made a snap decision. Like what seemed to be all British slytherins, the boy wasn’t all that bright.
“What, would you like this bludger?” he called back. Then he dove, shooting straight at him. The bludger, of course, was messing with his aim.
The boy’s eyes widened in fear, then he turned and fled to the side.
As soon as the way was clear, Harry thrust the bludger behind him as hard as he could- and then, because its last push on him left the Snitch too far to his left, he took his left hand off his broom too and made a wild grab for the snitch, even as his right fielded his broom handle.
He made it. He felt his fingers close around the tiny golden ball, and managed to regain full control of his broom a second later. He made a sharp right turn, feet from the ground, to avoid the bludger he could hear behind him, whilst also glancing back-
Wham.
The other bludger slammed into him from the side, and he felt his elbow shatter before it plowed into his side.
He tumbled right off of his broom- but fortunately, that close to the ground, he didn’t have far to fall… and neither did his broom. He tumbled to a halt on the grass, and stared up into the sky for a second, wondering if the rogue bludger would attack him while he was on the ground.
It didn’t seem to be willing to do so; he spotted both bludgers shooting up into the air.
He listened to the commentary.
“Gryffindor seeker crashed into the ground after a bludger strike,” Lee Jordan was saying. “Right after a spectacular dive. Hope he’s okay. Slytherin chaser Adrian Pucy still in possession, approaching the goal posts. Pucy shoots- Wood dives- Nice save, by the Gryffindor keeper! Gryffindor chaser Angelina Johnson now in poss- Wait, what’s that in Gryffindor seeker Harry Potter’s hand?”
Harry had stuck his Snitch-containing hand victoriously straight up in the air, from where he was still laying on the ground.
There was a second of silence, and then-
“It’s the Snitch! Gryffindor Wins, one ninety to forty! He must’ve caught it before he crashed!”
It took almost thirty seconds after the win was announced before anyone else appeared over Harry, who had elected not to move. He knew his elbow was broken, and wasn’t sure if he would be able to tolerate the pain from jostling it further. It had, after all, taken him a few seconds to recover from his landing enough to raise his fist in the air.
Unfortunately, it was Lockhart.
“Oh, not you,” Harry groaned.
“Doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Lockhart proclaimed. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll fix you right up.”
“Um, he should go to the Hospital Wing,” Ron Weasley’s voice pitched in, from the side.
Harry raised his eyebrow- it seemed a bit fast for Lyra’s ‘smartness lessons’, as she dubbed them whenever Ron was out of earshot, to have truly taken hold.
Then, Lockhart started brandishing his wand.
Harry closed his eyes tight, ‘flattened’ his magic as best as he could, and hoped, even prayed, that his concentration on forming a reflective shield between himself and Lockhart would be successful.
Then, there was a bang. Harry opened his eyes in time to see Lockhart fall out of sight. His elbow still felt broken. He glanced at it, then looked up again. “What happened?” he asked.
“Ow!- What- Oh. Ahh… That… happens, sometimes,” Lockhart’s voice floated over.
Silversong trotted up and crouched down next to Harry. “His spell backfired,” she answered, looking at Lockhart. “I think he’s managed to vanish the bones out of his own arm.” She looked down at Harry. “And when he did that, the air between you and him seemed to be shimmering. Did you do that…?”
He blinked. “So it worked? I blocked him?”
Silver let out a snort of laughter. “Nice job, Harry. You must’ve bounced it right back at him.” She shuddered. “Probably a good thing. I’ve seen that spell- not familiar enough to try it, sorry- and it should have had no effect on his undamaged skeleton.”
Harry sighed. “Alright then. Madam Pomfrey? I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay awake through walking.”
Very suddenly, Madam Pomfrey leaned into his field of view from the other side. “Good thing you don’t need to, isn’t it, dear?” She raised her wand, used the same spell Lockhart had tried, and straightened up. “There. How’s it feel?”
Harry sat up, and tested his right elbow. “Good, thank you,” he answered.
Madam Pomfrey then turned, to where Lockhart was also sitting on the grass, frantically feeling about his right arm… which looked more like a giant, inflated rubber glove than an arm. “But you, dear,” she told him reproachfully. “Broken bones I can mend in an instant, but regrowing them?” She shook her head. “You’re going to have to come with me to the Hospital Wing for the night.”
“But-! But-!” Lockhart stuttered.
“Unless you would prefer St. Mungo’s,” Madam Pomfrey intoned amusedly.