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FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE a bad spell on the stairs back in first year, Rebecca had found herself waking up in the Hospital Wing

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FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE a bad spell on the stairs back in first year, Rebecca had found herself waking up in the Hospital Wing. Her head felt cramped, brain pounding within her skull and creating a dull ache that was the first thing she felt since collapsing.

"Her head must be hurting real bad, landing on the wooden steps like that."

"Yeah, at least Harry had landed in some mud and grass."

The voices were whispering, but each of them felt like ear-piercing screeches into her nonetheless. It had made her wince, or at least, subconsciously. It also made her head spin more, confusion riddling her bones for a split second. Because for as long she could remember, Rebecca never really felt any sort of pain. Unless she had let herself lose focus and actually think about it – or if it was the semi-usual meeting with Alecto Carrow in her study. Though, as she laid on the bed within the ward, she couldn't bring herself to focus elsewhere. All she knew, was her body was completely drained of energy, her neck and head were aching, and her hands were freezing cold despite being tucked under a blanket. 

"She had went to get my stupid hat — I shouldn't have let her go."

A sudden flash of coldness creeped down Rebecca's spine, making her flinch and her eyes snap open. Only to wince at the sheer amount of light burning her unready irises. The cream-colored ceiling of the ward stared back at her, daunting and blank. Almost the entirety of the Gryffindor quidditch team surrounded her bed, alongside Hermione and Ron – all of them standing between her and Harry's hospital beds, splattered with mud and drenched in rain-soaked jerseys. Adrienne was also there as well, looking far more panicked than most as she sat at her friend's right side in a plastic chair.

"Hey," She breathed deeply, eyes significantly watery – in a surprising turn of events, "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" Rebecca croaked out hoarsely, grimacing at the sound of her voice and the feeling of  the temporary burning of her dry throat.

"You and Harry got attacked by dementors," Hermione answered meekly, looking between both bedridden, dark-haired students, "both of you collapsed – nearly one after the other."

"Harry fell farther though," Ron stated slowly, a factual tone to his voice, "must've been like – say – fifty feet?"

"It's not a competition, Ronald," Fred interjected, face twisted up slightly.

"But the match," Harry quickly asked, moving to sit up in a haste despite the sudden looks of horror on Angelina and Alicia's faces, "What happened? Are we doing a replay?" There was silence, and he immediately frowned, looking between them all, "we didn't – lose?"

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