17 - Post-Match-Depression

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-second person (y/n pov)-

Many Professors crowded around where Harry had fallen, Madam Pomfrey rushed onto the scene with a stretcher pulling along behind her, she was visibly shaking- out of fury. She pulled her wand out and levitated Harry onto the stretcher and whisked him away to the Hospital Wing.

"It doesn't count, Madam Hooch! I caught it after he fell! I never realised!" 

You turned and saw Cedric Diggory, Oliver and Madam Hooch in a heated argument with each other. Cedric was waving his arms around angrily while Oliver stood silent, his jaw was clenched and he stared at the ground.

"You won fair, Diggory," Oliver muttered, "No call for a rematch, Hooch,"

He silently strode into the changing rooms, his head held low and his broom dragging along behind him. 

"Take it as a win, Diggory," said Madam Hooch, giving Cedric a rough pat on his shoulder. He looked far from happy, though, as if he was the one who was attacked by the Dementor. He swivelled his head around and faced you, he stared at you for a few seconds as if he was contemplating something and then began to walk towards you.

"Er- Y/n?" 

"Cedric," you greeted, sending him a quick smile.

"I didn't mean to- y'know, get the Snitch," he mumbled nervously, "I didn't know Harry had fallen,"

"I don't blame you," you shrugged, "Wasn't your fault, you had one job and you did it,"

A wash of relief seemed to wash over him, "Can you tell Oliver that? Doesn't seem he wants to talk right now,"

"I'll let him know,"

"Right, thanks, you're a lifesaver-" 

"Coming to see Harry, Y/n?" said Fred, appearing at your shoulder. His face was as white as a ghost and he looked somewhat dazed but furious, casting Cedric a glare.

"Are we even allowed to visit him?"

"Yeah, think so,"

"Right, let's go," you said, bidding goodbye to Cedric and walking off the pitch with Fred, "You okay, Freddie?"

"Just spooked me a bit, what about you?" he asked, staring down at you with great concentration, "You look awfully pale."

"Was just about to say the same thing about you," you said, reaching up to Fred's face and wiping a bit of mud off his cheeks, "It scared me a bit, but it's Harry who we should be worried about."

Fred threw his arm over your shoulder as you met George, who was leaning against the door frame to the changing rooms. As you neared, he put a finger to his lips and pointed into the door, you and Fred glanced at each other, confused, but listened anyway. In the room, you heard a softened sort of wail as if it was a Banshee trapped in one of the showers. 

"What is that?" you whispered, a frown spreading across your face.

"Oliver," George shrugged, "Probably trying to drown himself in there."

"We should let him be," you said, a tinge of guilt striking your heart, "I'll talk to him later."

"Rough fall Harry had in fairness," George said, as you all trudged off to the Hospital Wing, "we should be having a rematch though,"

"That Diggory one should have been more persistent with having a rematch," said Fred.

"What more could he do?" you said, facing the boys, "Ollie was adamant that there was to be no rematch and so was Hooch, it was a two-against-one situation."

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