Because You Love Me

79. The Marauder's Map

 Several hours passed before Harry regained consciousness. Hermione was there by his side, along with Ron, Fred and George, and his mother and Professor Snape. There were all staring intently at him when his eyes fluttered open. He smiled, despite the fact that he felt like he had been run over by the Hogwarts Express.

"You look terrible, Harry," Ron told him with a mischievious grin.

Harry grinned right back at him.

"He looks a sight better than normal if you ask me," Fred quipped. George nodded in agreement. Harry just shook his head at them and laughed.

"Who won the match?"

He didn't see his professor roll his eyes. "Potter, you were nearly killed a few hours ago," Severus spoke up. "And you want to know who won the match?"

Harry nodded. "It's important."

He sighed and shook his head.

Alaina smiled at him. "Boys. What can I say? He loves his Quidditch."

He smiled wryly at her.

"Well?" Harry pressed. "Somebody answer me."

All the students in the room were looking around at each other, unsure of whether or not to speak. They obviously didn't want to tell him, which meant that they had probably lost. Hermione frowned and squeezed his hand tightly. He hadn't even realized she'd been holding it until then.

"No one blames you, Harry," she said.

The disappointment was evident when he spoke. "I take it we lost."

"Yes," she admitted, "but only because you fell from the sky and then we had no seeker." Hermione paused, seeing the self-loathing gleam Harry sometimes had in his eyes when he was blaming himself. "It wasn't your fault, Harry." She wanted to make sure he understood that. "The dementors aren't supposed to come inside the grounds. Dumbledore was furious."

"He wasn't the only one," Alaina chimed in. "I was fuming. You could have been killed."

Harry's eyes widened. The thought had never crossed his mind that he could have died, not even when he was falling toward the ground. "Who got the dementors away from me?"

Alaina looked off to the side. Harry frowned. He could have sworn he saw guilt on her face.

Hermione smiled. "Dumbledore did. His patronus was beautiful. A phoenix, I think."

"Cool," Harry commented.

Ron cleared his throat nervously and Harry looked in his direction. "How are you feeling now that you've been awake a bit, Harry?" he asked.

"Like I just got hit by a train. Landing on the ground jarred everything in me. Why?"

He grimaced. Harry noticed for the first time that he was holding something in his lap. A sharp piece of wood was sticking out of an old cloth he had it covered with and Harry suddenly got a sickening feeling that he knew what was under the cloth.

"Because," Ron said, "the wind blew your broom off the Quidditch pitch when you fell and it blew right into the Whomping Willow. And- Well-" He paused and opened up the cloth for Harry to see. "The tree destroyed it."

Harry sighed wearily. His eyes went wide with shock. His Nimbus 2000 was in pieces. He felt like crying. He loved that broomstick. Alaina walked over to his bed and patted him lovingly on the head.

"Don't worry, honey. Maybe we can get you a new one next year"

He smiled. That thought made him feel a little better. "Thanks, Mom."