Starry skies and Gardenias

Chapter 37

Slytherin had taken the lead with their last match against Hufflepuff the last week. They were ahead not only for the Quidditch Cup, but also the House Cup.

James and Sirius didn't care for the House Cup, but the Quidditch Cup, that was another story. 

They trained so hard, and their jokes had gone scarce. All they wanted to do was beat Slytherin. 

And that was the day Isabella realised her endurance levels. There was only so much she could do if she was exhausted and sleep-deprived. 

Isabella was looking for the snitch, flying almost thirty feet above the ground when a bludger whizzed past her head. It didn't hit her, but she was ducked and her grip slackened on her broom and she slipped off her broom and pelted towards the ground. 

Before she hit the ground, she heard Frank's panicked yell.

And then she blacked out. 

When Isabella woke up in the hospital wing, it was way past midnight. The next thing she realised was that he head was aching terribly and there was a cast on her right arm and her leg seemed to be broken too, sprained in the least.

She tried sitting up but found out that her body was aching all over. She groaned softly and that seemed to bring Madam Pomfrey to her almost immediately.

"Oh, you are up," the matron said and bustled around. "Here, there are a few potions you have to drink,"

She brought up flasks and flasks of strange coloured liquids and told them their uses. She had apparently broken quite many of her bones in that fall and the team had brought her to the hospital wing. 

Isabella closed her eyes in a grimace as she downed a funny-smelling potion. McLaggen must be losing it. Poor fellow. It wasn't his fault that she was having nightmares and couldn't sleep well. 

"Now, go back to bed," Madam Pomfrey told her. "You can leave tomorrow,"

"Can I go for Quidditch practise tomorrow?" Isabella asked.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I daresay you can," she said grudgingly. "Although I would personally advise you not to,"

Isabella nodded. She was going to play tomorrow. It must be fine. Magic could heal things such as a couple of broken bones easily. 

Isabella slumped back in her bed and stared at the ceiling for a while, thinking. 

In her latest dream, there were so many things she had learnt. 

It wasn't Hagrid who opened the Chamber, but he would be taken to Azkaban yet again because the real culprit was too good at hiding.

Then there was a huge possibility that there was an acromantula living in the Forbidden Forest. 

Next, Dumbledore would be forced to leave the school. Mostly a plot by Voldemort, since Dumbledore was said to be the only one he was afraid of. And he wanted the old wizard to be gone from the school so he could attack freely.

And Hermione was possibly petrified too, judging by Harry and Ron's sombre tones.

And, apparently, Harry had inherited an Invisibility cloak from his father. Who, if she was right, was James Potter. Meaning, James Potter had an Invisibility cloak and was most likely using it for pranks along with his friends. 

Isabella's last thoughts of the night were about Riddle's diary before she fell asleep.

She was running. It wasn't the halls of Hogwarts. But a place she had seen just a few times before. Gringotts.