Hit by a Flying Bludger

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings that you recognise and am not making profit of any kind out of this material, this is purely for shits and giggles.

"For Merlin's sake Wilson, leave that bloody snitch alone till we get 50 points up on them," Wood yelled through the rain at me, his tone iced with annoyance.

"How about you actually score those goals then," I yelled back, trying to keep control of my broom as I was lashed by the wind that buffered between the stands. I knew he was the captain but his stupid Scottish accent was really jarring on my ears and my head was already pounding.

"I'm the Keeper you idiot," Came his retort, which was of course completely true and made my previous request sound instantly ridiculous.

"That explains why it's seventy to forty then," I screamed back, sick of his quick replies and his stupid voice. What did he expect me to do when the Slytherin Seeker had dived for the snitch? Just watch him catch it because we didn't have enough points?

I pulled my broom around and sped off across the pitch to search once more for that tiny glint of gold. We need to win this game to beat Slytherin to this year's Quidditch cup, but we also had to win by 200 points. That meant being fifty points up when I caught the Snitch and that meant the game was going to be a long one. We had already been out in this freezing storm for over two hours and the rain didn't look like it was going to let up any time soon.

I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself but instead inhaled a mouthful of icy cold water and had to splutter it out before I choked; never a good idea at 100 feet in the air. Trying not to shiver I resolved to breathe through my nose from then on and tried to ignore the chill seeping further into my bones. I'd been soaked through since pretty much the second my feet left the ground and I was scared to move my hands from the broom handle in case they snapped like icicles. That was probably not a very helpful occurrence for a seeker since I needed my hands to catch the snitch. If I was ever allowed to that is.

Rubbing the water from my eyes with the sleeve of my soaked through Quidditch robes; I turned back to the pitch trying to figure out what was happening. Usually I relied on the commentator to let me know what was happening so I could concentrate on my job but between Wood's yelling and the raging wind there was little else I could hear.

We were in possession. I think. Yes, we definitely were. That was Angelina with the Quaffle, a red blur streaking through green. I couldn't tell from that height which of the green were Slytherin players and which was just the grass below but she looked like she was doing fine.

The distinct rattling hum of a Bludger hit my ears through the storm; I whipped around just in time to see the Bludger heading for my face and throw myself sideways to avoid it. I managed to right myself again and throw a curse in the direction of the Slytherin Beater that had whacked the Bludger my way.

I took off around the pitch to do a lap and regain my bearings of the game. The crowd exploded about half way round, mostly cheering with one side booing manically. I guessed that meant that we had scored. Since our win was the only chance to stop Slytherin getting the cup, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were cheering for us too. Just seven more goals until I'm allowed to end this hell of a game and that was being optimistic.

I came back around to our goals, Wood hovering between them, his eyes fixed down the pitch at where I guessed the Quaffle was. The Slytherin Seeker was hanging around our goals too so I decided to wait around here and keep an eye on him. Much to Wood's disapproval of course.

"Wilson, what are you doing?" He yelled up at me. I rolled my eyes and tried to suppress the thoughts of throttling him with my scarf.

"You told me not to catch the damned snitch," I replied as loudly as I dared in hopes that the Slytherin Seeker couldn't hear our obvious game plan. He was probably rooting for me to catch the snitch now so the game would be over but they would still win the cup.

"That doesn't mean hover around me getting on my nerves for Merlin's sake," He complained.

"You're so self-obsessed. What makes you think I'm here to be near you? I would much rather be as far away as possible from you but I'm trying to keep track of their Seeker and actually do my job," My speech was somewhat drowned out by the wind but I'm sure Wood caught the drift as he sent me an icy glare colder than the rain dripping down my back.

"If you're doing your job properly then why do I have to keep telling you what the hell you should be doing?" His voice was getting louder every time he yelled back and his accent getting thicker, as it always did when his emotions ran high. Not that I listened to his voice in that much detail. Often.

"If you were doing your job properly I could catch the bloody snitch by now and we could finish this awful game," Never a good idea to question Wood's ability to play Quidditch.

"Maybe if you didn't need me to tell you what to do every second I could actually do my job properly," He replied angrily turning to face me now.

"You don't have to; I'm not a child,"

"Maybe you should stop acting like one then,"

"Well maybe you should stop acting like a stupid, Scottish prat," I was screaming now not even paying attention to the rest of the game. I could just about see the Slytherin Seeker staring down at us arguing. At least he wasn't looking for the Snitch either.

"How dare you–" Wood started to reply but at that moment two things happened. Both so quickly neither of us had a chance to register them let alone react.

The first was the Slytherin Chaser in possession of the Quaffle sailed straight behind Wood, took aim and scored what must have been the easiest goal in the history of Quidditch. The second was a Bludger, which sailed out of nowhere, slammed into my shoulder. I didn't even hear the tell-tale rattling of the crazy ball before it hit me.

My hands were still frozen tightly onto the broom which was probably for the best since I didn't know if I could hold on by myself. But the force of the Bludger had knocked me sideways and I started to fall to the right, my vision started going fuzzy at the edges until all I could see was Wood's face, a mask of shock and horror in the centre of my vision before everything went black. The noise of the crowd and the wind and the rain all blurred to one until just white noise filled my head and the coldness that had racked my body turned to numbness. I felt my body go limp as I slipped and even my frozen grip wasn't enough to keep me attached to my broom.

I felt something, a tingling on my numb back as I tried to open my eyes. They were open but everything was blurred, I didn't know where I was but this wasn't where I was supposed to be. I could hear a voice, a familiar accent though who's I couldn't figure out. A face was swimming over mine, worry etched across every inch. I tried to speak but nothing came out and then everything went black again.

I blinked.

My eyes opened this time and the world didn't look like an aquarium. It looked like the hospital wing. For a brief second I thought I was dreaming then I tried to turn my head to look around and was greeted by a stab of pain that convinced me this was real. Using my right arm to drag myself into a sitting position I tried to make sense of what was happening.

My left arm was nearly useless, the stabbing pain had come from that shoulder and now I had moved it the pain remained as a dull thudding. I was in a hospital bed, the curtains drawn mostly around me leaving a slice of the room still visible. The table beside me was littered with cards and gifts all balanced expertly to fit onto the tiny space. I could hear Madame Pomfrey bustling around behind the curtain but apart from that I was alone in the Hospital Wing.

My memory was slowly returning in waves of fuzzy images. I remembered being on my broom. The Quidditch match of course, but I couldn't remember the final score. We had to have won; Wood would kill us if we didn't. Wait. Wood! I called him a stupid, Scottish prat, oh god.

Our argument on the pitch came flooding back to me all at once and felt my temper rising at how much he annoyed me. I remembered the goal we let in and then the Bludger that hit me. That would explain why my shoulder felt like it was on fire. I tried to breath and calm myself but the very thought of Wood telling me to do my job properly was making my blood boil. Like I don't know how to play the damned game, if I'm so bad why did he pick me for Seeker?

The reasonable side of my brain tried to make the point that he is the captain and he really wanted to beat Slytherin. Oh no did that mean we lost? I didn't remember anything after being hit but without a Seeker how could we have won?

Just then Madame Pomfrey's face appeared around the curtain, she was holding a bottle of something grey that looked like mould.

"Oh, you're awake. How's your arm? Try not to move it too much," She bustled over, looking for a place to put own the bottle and eventually having to ask me to hold it with my good arm.

"It hurts," I managed to say before having to cough through my dried out throat. I reached for a glass of water knocking cards onto the floor in the process. "How long have I been... out?" I asked searching for the right word.

"Two days, everyone has been so worried. I've just set one of your admirers away to get some food, he has refused to leave your bed since, well, since he carried you in here two days ago," She didn't seem to be talking to me as much as to herself. "Now drink that up, it'll help with the pain," Indicating to the bottle of grey mush.

I wasn't paying attention anymore though; I was still stuck on the fact that I had an admirer who had carried me to the hospital wing from the Quidditch pitch. I did remember a face after I fell and a voice. I realised my mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it as Pomfrey took the bottle from me, opened it and tried to pour the foul liquid down my throat. I spluttered on the medicine and reached back for more water.

Just then I heard the door open and another figure appeared through the gap in the curtains, a slice of toast in one hand. He looked a mess, unwashed and still in his Quidditch robes which were splattered with mud but when he saw me awake his eyes lit up and a grin split across his unshaven face. I didn't even need to suppress the feelings of annoyance any more I was just relieved to see him that the butterflies were winning.

"Ah, your admirer returns. I'll leave you to it," Pomfrey rolled her eyes and left as Wood practically ran to my bedside.

"Wood, I'm so sorry," I managed to force out as he sat down on the edge of my bed and took my hand, his toast already discarded.

"You're OK," He said unable to stop himself grinning. "I was so worried, I'm so glad you're OK, Lia," Hearing my first name in that Scottish accent sent a shiver down my spine; I couldn't remember the last time he'd used my first name. The butterflies in my stomach seemed to explode in a frenzy of fluttering.

"Yea, I'm sorry about the game," I said. I felt awful for my behaviour now I knew he had carried me here and stayed by my side the whole time.

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're OK," I smiled then, glad that there was someone looking after me.

"You carried me all the way up here," I stated incredulously, staring back into his deep brown eyes.

"Well I wasn't going to leave you outside,"

"You look a mess,"

"Look who's talking,"

I laughed at that. I hadn't looked in a mirror but judging by how I felt it was probably quite accurate. Wood was still smiling at me, his face wasn't far from mine now and I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks.

"I'm sorry for being so hard on you," He said finally.

"It's OK, you're Captain that's your job remember," I assured him nudging his shoulder playfully with my fist.

"No, I'm harder on you than the rest. I have to be or…" He looked away from me then, was that embarrassment I saw in his face?

"Or what?"

"Or it would be obvious all I was really thinking about is doing this,"

"Doing wh-" I was cut off mid-sentence as he closed the last few inches between us and his lips came crashing into mine. They were warm and soft against mine, his hand gently cupped my cheek tilting my face upwards and I kissed back after barely a moment of hesitation. I'm kissing my Captain. And not in a fantasy. I found his chest with my good arm and tightened my grip on his robes to try and steady myself.

Eventually he pulled back, only far enough that he could look at me, and smile. I couldn't stop a stupid grin from creeping across my face and I didn't really want too.

"You're right, probably not the best Quidditch practice," I laughed quietly and Oliver chuckled gently too before bending down to kiss me once again.

A/N: Just a fluffy one shot because you know you all love them! It's a bit AU in that the Seeker before Harry is my OC but I'm sure we can all live with that. I'm trying to work on my longer stories since I have so many, but I wanted to have a break and upload a shorter fic so I feel like I've actually finished something. Hopefully new multi-chapter fics soon.

Azealia xx