Chapter 32 - Yellow and Green

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The month of March marches onward.  Umbridge and her inquisitor squad gains more and more power, issuing decree after decree.  Students now rush quietly from class to class, not wanting to get detention for accidentally disobeying one of the many decrees.  Library access is now heavily restricted, boy and girls have to be at least eight inches apart, and no loitering in any hallway or common room.  Everyone is just operating in survival mode, desperate to make it to the end of the year.

The end of the month marks the last quidditch match for the Hufflepuffs as we face Slytherin.  I have to admit I'm a bit nervous about it.  I've seen how rough they are and their lax views of the rules.  I really don't want to end up in the hospital wing again.  Sure, Pomfrey can fix broken bones, but can she fix broken faces?  I surely don't want to have to find out.

The weather has warmed up a bit, and the sky is clear on the morning of the match. This means that the stands are bursting with students. Part of me is nervous that my mom is somewhere up there in the stands. It wouldn't be hard for her to get lost in the crowds. I spin slowly, taking in the see of yellow all around me. It seems like both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are cheering for Hufflepuff today. I feel a bit sad for the Slytherin team's lack of support. That is until their beaters start yelling slurs and sexual comments at us.

I ignore them as best as I can while I mount my broom. It's not so easy when Crabbe is yelling about how the only reason I joined the team is so I can get off while riding my broom.

"That's the only action she ever gets." He jeers, earning a chuckle from several of his teammates. The Malfoy kid just rolls his eyes.

"Come on boys, that half a witch isn't worth our time." He saunters away before mounting his own broom. Glaring at the Hufflepuff team, his goons follow suit.  I take a deep breath in an attempt to calm the rage stirring deep within me. 

"Don't let them get to you!"  Alex shouts back to us from his position in the front.  "That's how you make mistakes.  It's all part of their strategy."

I nod, steeling myself against any future insults.  They mean nothing, and their words mean less.  All that matters is making sure we win the match.  The captions reluctantly shake hands and the whistle blows, starting the match.  Everyone kicks off into the sky in pursuit of their designated balls.  The Slytherins don't hold back, not afraid to break a few rules. 

Within the first few minutes, one of their chasers purposefully flies right into one of ours, knocking him off his broom.  Thankfully, Hillary was able to dive and catch Zach before he hit the ground.  Madam Hooch called a foul, and Zach got to take a penalty shot.  I wish I could say that's the only penalty shot Hufflepuff got to take, but alas no.  

Slytherin is ahead by eighty at the hour mark.  One of their chasers is about to score, so I aim a bludger his way, hoping to disrupt his throw.  At the same time that I swing, Goyle does as well.  The bludger flies true to my air, and Goyle's hit also lands.  I nearly scream as I feel the full force of his swing smash into my arm.  My vision goes fuzzy for a moment, and I quickly grab onto the broom with my right hand, dropping my bat.

The crowd boos as they realize what just happened.  Hooch blows the whistle again, forcing the teams to land.  I stumble a little as I hit the ground, the impact sending pain shooting through my left arm.  I clutch it tightly to me, determined not to show weakness to the Slytherins.

"Aw, did little Taylor get an ouchie?"  Crabbe sneers, the rest of the team snickering.

"Enough!"  Hooch snaps, fed up with the team's playstyle.  "Penalty shot to Hufflepuff for that illegal hit.  Taylor, how's the arm?"

"Still attached."  I grimace slightly.  "I'm good to play.  Maybe a sling would be nice though."

"You sure?"  She raises an eyebrow, suspicious that I'm underselling my injury.  Which of course I am.

"Yeah.  Just don't want to jostle it more."  I meet her eyes, doing my best to look fine.

"Pomfrey!"  She turns and shouts to the woman at the edge of the field who quickly rushes over with the requested fabric to brace my arm.

"Hazel," Madam Pomfrey whispers to me as she ties it around my neck.  "Come see me after."

'Yes, Ma'am."  My act didn't fool her, but at least she's letting me continue playing.  Everyone hops back on their brooms, and kicks off after the whistle blow.  Hillary scores the penalty shot, closing the gap a bit.  The game goes back into full force, and I do my best with what I have.  It's harder to steer with only the one arm, but nothing I can't handle.  

However, with the Slytherin's dirty tactics, they start pulling far ahead.  At the two hour mark, they're up by a hundred and twenty.  I'm starting to sweat from the pain throbbing in my arm.  My stomach is also queasy.  I hope the game ends soon, because I don't know how much longer I can last like this.  I block a bludger from hitting Zach, sending it to the Slytherin keeper, when I hear the crowd gasp.  I glance over my shoulder and see that Malfoy and Summerby are after the snitch.  Relief floods through me and I pray Summerby catches is quickly.

I nearly throw up as I fly upwards to avoid a bludger flying at my head.  It pivots and turns back to me.  The crowd around me bursts into cheers, the yellow clad students jumping in the stands.  Summerby must have caught the snitch.  I let my bat fall from my fingers as I finally give into the pain.  The bludger however, does not know the game is over, and smashes into my chest.  I feel myself lose my grip on my broom, and a exploding pain in my chest.  After that... darkness.

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