Chapter 14

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There were so many things happening all at once.

Some of the students up in the stands were screaming, Ron Weasley had forgotten all about defending the Gryffindor goal posts and was flying as fast as he could towards Aria's falling form in the middle of the pitch, and Fisher had gone absolutely white with panic and was screaming hysterically as he watched Aria plummet to the ground.

But Draco didn't care about any of them as his fingers tightened around his broom and he forced himself to go faster, a single bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face as he sped through the air like a madman. He squinted through his goggles as he neared Aria and dived down after her, his fingernails digging painfully against the wooden handle of his Nimbus in desperation; until he finally heard Aria's pained gasp when she landed in his arms.

The students watching along the bleachers screamed again as Aria collapsed against Draco, her arms automatically moving to wrap themselves around his neck as she struggled to keep from falling off. Draco winced at the harsh impact of her fall but his free arm automatically tightened around her, carefully positioning her so that he was carrying her more securely - bridal-style in his arms – with her head resting against his left arm and her legs draped over his right. His hand accidentally brushed against something behind her left shoulder and Aria winced again, a soft, pained hiss escaping her lips.

Draco's eyebrows furrowed angrily at her reaction and he used his free hand to remove her goggles and the protective gear covering her face, tossing them away.

"Are you okay? Where else are you hurt?" He demanded as he gripped her chin and tilted her face up to his, using their proximity to inspect her features up close.

Aria stiffened at his nearness and tried to move away from him but Draco was having none of it.

He removed the thick glove from his hand, not wanting to aggravate any of her injuries further, and turned her face from side to side, trying to ascertain for himself that she was unharmed. When he tried to turn her slightly so that he could check her shoulder again, Aria let out another pained grimace and hastily shook her head, trying to push him away.

"N—no, it's somewhere below my left shoulder. It...It hurts really bad." She flushed at the way Draco was holding her and squirmed in his arms again, turning her face away. "It might be broken. I can barely lift my shoulder." She whispered.

"Let me see." Draco ignored her halfhearted protests and poked gently around her back, trying to search for the source of the pain. When his hand brushed against a particularly wet spot and Aria gasped again, trying move away from him, Draco tightened his grip on her and turned her slightly to the side so he could see.

The sight that greeted him made him blanch and he almost lost his grip on the handle of his broom.

Just below Aria's left shoulder, where the bludger had managed to hit her, there was a small red stain of blood that was slowly beginning to grow bigger – but that wasn't what alarmed Draco. What alarmed him was the fact that something, a sharp, pointy tip of what appeared to be part of a slightly bent wing was protruding from Aria's torn quidditch robes. And when Draco moved his hand away, not only was it stained with blood but several, red-stained white feathers stuck to his fingers, most of which were immediately blown away by a sharp gust of wind that caused the feathers to twirl gracefully above his head before disappearing from his sight completely.

So it's true then.

Draco's hand shook as he swallowed before carefully adjusting Aria in his arms again, making sure that the strange wing-protrusion was hidden from everyone else's view.

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