Hard and heavy rain pricked my face as it came down unapologetically. Lightning flashed white and fierce, followed by a heavy, deafening boom of thunder, and for a moment, the voice over the microphone was dimmed. It was a stormy Saturday morning and the dark sky boiled with clouds and thunder. It was the worst kind of weather for a quidditch match.

Fourteen figures, clothes in traditional red or yellow, dashed through the air, veering and swerving in the penetrating rain. Hufflepuff scored ten points, but the sound of their cheers was swallowed up by another crash of thunder. Lightning struck again, setting the tail of a player's broom aflame. In the flexing, vortex-like wind, un umbrella blew past. The whole stadium was under mercy of the storm.

I saw a flash of gold, miniscule in all of the havoc, and then a figure in dark red robes was hurtling towards it. Harry Potter had spotted the Snitch.

Hufflepuff scored another ten points, with boos from everyone around me. A Beater sent out a ravenous bludger, nearly hitting a Gryffindor chaser. Bodies flew past and the game was fierce, but...

Where had Harry gone? I'd saw him last moments before. He'd been bent on catching the Snitch.

The rain suddenly became colder. I wasn't the only one to notice. An ominous silence had descended upon the stadium, yet the players continued, unaware of the changing atmosphere.

And then I looked up.

They had come like silent wraiths, seeming to blend with the clouds. They floated menacingly, heads bent low, breath rattling in their not-existing lungs. The dementors.

They were at least 200 feet above the stadium, swirling to what could've only been…

A figure broke through the mantle of clouds, ant-like against the vast sky. Harry plummeted to the earth, apparently unconscious. Everyone was screaming. The game had stopped.

Across the stadium, I saw Dumbledore rise, fury in his eyes, to bellow a spell that I could not hear.

Because I fainted.

Things were coming into focus, slowly. I blinked and felt around. I was lying down.

"Finally, she's coming round," I heard somebody say.

"Just to think, Harry just woke up a moment ago."

"Looks like both of 'em have a complex with passing out..."

My eyes fluttered open, of their own accord. My vision twisted a bit and then everything was clear.

Evangeline smiled down at me from her place beside my bed. With her stood Hermione, Ron, and a few others who's names I didn't know.

"Wh... Where's Harry?" I asked, remember everything. It came to me why I was here. I sat up and my head spun. I was in the Hospital Wing.

"He's fine," Hermione told me, "Dumbledore managed to save him before he hit the ground. We're all glad you're okay, th-"

"You weren't so lucky," Evangeline said, cutting Hermione off. I noticed the distinct and sudden irritation in her tone. It shocked me. "You went out cold."

I looked around, "How long was I out?"

"Just about 20 minutes. Wouldn't have been that long if you hadn't hit your head." my friend said.

I felt around for a lump that wasn't there.

"Madame Pomfrey already took care of everything," Hermione said.

"Good," I looked around for my things, "Because I have to go."

"You should rest-"

"No seriously," I said, standing up. I ignored the wave of nausea that roiled in my stomach as I did so, "I have to go. Thank you guys, for staying with me!"

I'd just remembered. I had a detention with Snape. I wasn't bursting with excitement to go and sit in a smelly dungeon classroom with a man that literally hated my guts, but I knew that if I didn't show up, my detentions- and possibly, my ridicule in class- would be doubled.

Miserable, I left the Hospital Wing and set off down the hall.