Post by jazzyjess on Nov 12, 2011 0:22:31 GMT -8
Title: Next Time
Rating: G
Word Count: 244
Warnings:
Summary: "Took a Bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up in the hospital a week later."
-
Pain. A lot of pain.
When Wood opens his eyes, he’s blinded by the lights of the levitating lanterns around the ceiling. “What happened?” he tries to ask, but his throat feels as dry as a desert all that comes out is a dry croak. Instantly, a face fills his vision.
“Hello, Wood!” the boy says cheerfully. “How’s the head? You’ve got a bump the size of a baseball – or, er, a dragon egg! – up there.”
All he can do is blink at the other person. He knows that face – McDougall. Quidditch captain. Quidditch! Sitting up quickly fills his head with stars, and Oliver sags back into the pillows as Poppy Pomfrey comes fussing over with a potion that Oliver’s sure will taste as bad as it smells. Once it’s down – and Madame Pomfrey watches him with sharp eyes until it’s all gone – he repeats, “What happened?”
“You brave little lad, you,” McDougall says fondly, ruffling Oliver’s hair. It’s a frustrating gesture because though Oliver’s only a couple of years younger, he’s been waiting for puberty and a growth spurt to hit. He jerks his head out from under his captain’s hand. “Jumped in front of a Bludger, you did! Must have thought it was the Quaffle, hmmm? Slytherin doesn’t usually play nice but I didn’t expect them to go after our brand new Keeper!”
“Did we win?” Oliver wants to know.
McDougall lets out a cheery laugh. “Next time, young one. Next time.”
Rating: G
Word Count: 244
Warnings:
Summary: "Took a Bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up in the hospital a week later."
-
Pain. A lot of pain.
When Wood opens his eyes, he’s blinded by the lights of the levitating lanterns around the ceiling. “What happened?” he tries to ask, but his throat feels as dry as a desert all that comes out is a dry croak. Instantly, a face fills his vision.
“Hello, Wood!” the boy says cheerfully. “How’s the head? You’ve got a bump the size of a baseball – or, er, a dragon egg! – up there.”
All he can do is blink at the other person. He knows that face – McDougall. Quidditch captain. Quidditch! Sitting up quickly fills his head with stars, and Oliver sags back into the pillows as Poppy Pomfrey comes fussing over with a potion that Oliver’s sure will taste as bad as it smells. Once it’s down – and Madame Pomfrey watches him with sharp eyes until it’s all gone – he repeats, “What happened?”
“You brave little lad, you,” McDougall says fondly, ruffling Oliver’s hair. It’s a frustrating gesture because though Oliver’s only a couple of years younger, he’s been waiting for puberty and a growth spurt to hit. He jerks his head out from under his captain’s hand. “Jumped in front of a Bludger, you did! Must have thought it was the Quaffle, hmmm? Slytherin doesn’t usually play nice but I didn’t expect them to go after our brand new Keeper!”
“Did we win?” Oliver wants to know.
McDougall lets out a cheery laugh. “Next time, young one. Next time.”
Thank you, both!! &hearts
