The Chamber Of Secrets - Hermione Granger x OC

The Rouge Bludger

The day of the highly anticipated big game had finally arrived, and Oliver found himself standing outside the quidditch field,  preparing for what was to come. With just one practice session under his belt the day prior, he couldn't help but be surprised by his natural talent for this dangerous sport. As he paced back and forth, Oliver attempted to mentally prepare himself for the task at hand.

"You've got this, only the whole school will be watching. No pressure," he whispered to himself.

Just as his thoughts began to consume him, Oliver heard footsteps gradually approaching from behind. It was Harry.

"You ready for this?" Harry asked.

Oliver's nervousness instantly multiplied as he replied, "No, not at all. This is more your thing than mine."

"I saw a little bit of potential in you during practice yesterday. You'll do just fine," Harry reassured.

Oliver raised an eyebrow in response, a glimmer of hope emerging within him. "You really think so?" he asked, his doubt slowly subsiding under Harry's reassurance.

"Absolutely," Harry replied, a reassuring smile gracing his face. He reached out and gave Oliver a friendly fist bump. "I'll see you out there," he added, before heading towards the field.

Harry suddenly halted in his tracks, a look of mischief flickering in his eyes as he turned back toward Oliver.

"I'm sure Hermione has faith in you too," he said playfully, accompanied by a wink.

Oliver felt a spark of both surprise and warmth at the mention of Hermione's belief in him. "Is she going to be there?" he asked.

"Of course," Harry replied, the sly smile still lingering on his lips. "Why wouldn't she be, especially if it's you playing." With that final remark, Harry finally resumed his stride, leaving Oliver with a newfound confidence. The thought of Hermione's presence during the game added a sprinkle of motivation to Oliver's already-tumultuous mix of emotions.

Oliver joined his fellow Gryffindor teammates as they made their way onto the field. He eagerly scanned the huge crowd, his eyes searching for the comforting presence of Hermione. And there she was, seated next to Ron, accompanied by Oliver's supportive siblings, Henry and Isabella.

"Don't fall!" Henry shouted playfully.

Hermione reached over and slapped Henry on the shoulder.

"What are you gonna petrify me again?" Henry asked Hermione.

"I'm thinking about it," Hermione retorted.

Ron chimed in with a smirk, leaning in closer to Henry. "I wouldn't test her, mate. She can be really scary when she wants to be."

Henry shifted uncomfortably, discreetly scooting further away from Hermione. He leaned in close to Isabella, whispering in a hushed tone, "What does Oliver see in her?"

Isabella simply responded by playfully shrugging her shoulders.

The game finally commenced, and Oliver's performance was shaping up quite decently. Gryffindor had managed to secure five goals, with Oliver contributing three of them. Unfortunately, despite their efforts, Slytherin still held a commanding lead of forty points.

Suddenly, a menacing Bludger came hurtling dangerously close to Oliver's head. With swift reflexes, he narrowly avoided a disastrous collision with the ball.

The Bludger changed its course and set its sights on Harry, who, displaying impressive agility, managed to evade it. However, despite his best efforts, the persistent ball swiftly circled back towards him.

The Bludger appeared to possess an unusual fixation on Harry, relentlessly pursuing him amidst the chaos of the game.

"That Bludger has been tampered with!" Hagrid's booming voice echoed from the stands.

Harry executed a series of evasive maneuvers, desperately attempting to outmaneuver the persistent ball. Despite his impressive agility and quick reflexes, the relentless Bludger seemed intent on colliding with Harry.

Oliver's instincts kicked in as the Bludger closed in menacingly on Harry, making him feel the immediate need to intervene. Disregarding the ongoing game, Oliver fearlessly threw himself in front of Harry, taking a vicious hit from the Bludger directly on his arm. The impact sent the Bludger off course, but it also sent Oliver crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.

Gasps of shock filled the arena as the crowd witnessed Oliver's selfless act and the harrowing aftermath. In an instant, Henry and Isabella leaped to their feet and fought their way through the swarm of frantic spectators, urgently hastening towards Oliver's fallen form. Hermione and Ron trailed closely behind.

Oliver felt the wind forcefully expelled from his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath as he lay flat on the ground, clutching his throbbing arm in unbearable agony.

Concern etched across her face, Isabella swiftly knelt down beside Oliver, her voice laced with worry as she inquired, "Are you okay?"

Oliver's voice strained with pain as he replied, "No, I'm fairly certain my arm is broken."

Just as despair began to cloud the atmosphere, a voice unexpectedly boomed from the crowd. It was Lockhart, striding forward with an air of confidence. "Fear not," he assured everyone. "I know precisely what to do."

Oliver's fear surged through his veins, compelling him to desperately attempt to crawl away from Lockhart's bumbling approach. "Not you," he managed to utter through gritted teeth. "Literally anyone but you."

Lockhart dismissed Oliver's objections with a careless wave of his hand, maintaining an unwarranted sense of confidence. "Nonsense," he remarked dismissively, disregarding Oliver's plea. "He's still a little delusional from that blow."

Unfazed by Oliver's resistance, Lockhart boldly grabbed hold of his injured arm, exerting an unintentional pressure that elicited a pained gasp from Oliver. In one swift motion, Lockhart rolled up Oliver's sleeve, exposing the mangled limb to the crowd's horrified gaze.

Refusing to let doubt cloud his dubious abilities, Lockhart cleared his throat, attempting to project an air of expertise. "Brackium Emendo!" he exclaimed.

A beam of blue light radiated from Lockhart's wand, casting an eerie glow as it connected with Oliver's injured arm. In an instant, the excruciating pain dissolved, replaced by a numbing sensation that left Oliver hopeful.

However, as Oliver dared to cautiously lift his arm, his optimism was abruptly shattered. His limb hung limp and lifeless, resembling a spaghetti noodle rather than a functional appendage. The crowd recoiled in collective disgust at the grotesque sight, their audible gasps echoing through the arena.

Attempting to salvage his pride, Lockhart attempted to downplay the incident, his voice tinged with a forced nonchalance. "Ah yes, well, that tends to happen sometimes," he mumbled, struggling to maintain an air of confidence. "The point is, your bones are clearly not broken anymore."

Henry, unable to conceal his fury, interjected at Lockhart's feeble defense. "Broken bones? There are no bones left!" he exclaimed.

Lockhart, seemingly oblivious to the severity of his blunder, shrugged casually. "He's much more flexible, though," he remarked, attempting to spin the situation with a laughably misplaced positivity that only further infuriated the onlookers.

Henry shouted at Lockhart. "Move!" he bellowed, forcefully shoving Lockhart aside to create a clear path towards Oliver. Gathering his injured brother into his strong and supportive embrace, Henry reassured Oliver, "I've got you. We're going straight to the hospital wing, where a real professional will properly treat you."