Vulnerability || George Weasley

Blood Quills and Nose Bleeds

Phoenix was trying with all her might to concentrate on the Quaffle, but her nose was still bleeding and the blood seemed to be pouring out much more quickly than before. She kept having to wipe her nose with her robes.

Angelina had thrown the Quaffle towards Phoenix, who had been mid-way through wiping her bloody nose again. She caught it with the tips of her fingers, wobbling dangerously on her broom.

"Easy Phoenix!" Fred shouted, whacking a Bludger that had been soaring towards her with his Beater's bat.

"Stop, stop, STOP!" Angelina roared, she was waving frantically at her team, her dark eyes focused on Ron. "Ron – you're not covering your middle post!"

Phoenix was not looking at Ron, instead she was attempting to stop the rather constant flow of blood. The sweet that Fred had given her had appeared to be making her nosebleed a lot worse, rather than helping to ease the flow.

"Oh... sorry..." Phoenix heard Ron reply sheepishly.

"You keep shifting around while you're watching the Chasers! Either stay in centre position until you have to move to defend a hoop, or else circle the hoops, but don't drift vaguely off to one side, that's how you let in the last three goals!"

"Sorry..." Ron repeated, his face as red as his hair.

"And Phoenix, can't you do something about that nosebleed?"

"You make it sound as though I like profusely bleeding out of my nose!" Phoenix shot back, she was growing angry as the Slytherins continued to jeer. 'Gryffindor are losers, Gryffindor are losers,' they were now chanting.

"Well, let's try again," called Angelina, once again throwing her hair over her shoulder.

Alicia and Angelina both shot off in the chase of the Quaffle. But Phoenix remained behind, her wand out as she was searching her mind for a spell, something to stop the constant flow of blood. But her mind was becoming hazy, her eyes felt heavy. She noticed that the few wisps of her hair in her line of vision had turned a pale white. The hands that were wrapped around the head of her broomstick were shaking, they felt as cold as ice.

Blood spattered across Phoenix's Quidditch robes as her breathing become rapid and uneven. She was silently panicking, her face as pale as snow. She wanted to signal to her team mates to stop, to help her, but she couldn't speak, she couldn't move. Her arms felt as though they were made of a heavy iron. She couldn't feel her hands, she could no longer feel the smooth wood of her broom.

Phoenix heard, through her fogged-up mind, the sound of Angelina's whistle.

She hardly registered Fred and George reaching her. She felt herself being pulled from her broom and being supported by both Fred and George. George was whispering softly in her ear as they flew towards the castle, smoothing her white hair softly. But what he was saying, Phoenix could not make head nor tail of it, because the moment that she and the twins touched the ground at the castle's entrance, she fainted.

The twins apologised profusely the moment Phoenix awoke a mere two hours later.

"What did you give me, Fred?" Phoenix croaked, taking the Blood Replenishing potion from Madam Pomfrey and drinking a hearty swig. The coldness that had enveloped Phoenix before fainting had vanished and was replaced by a sudden warmth.

Fred gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "It may have been a Blood Blisterpod–"

"Fred," Phoenix groaned. "For someone who is weirdly smart, you can be awfully stupid."

The doors of the Hospital Wing opened and Angelina, Alicia and Lee stepped in.

"Well, you're certainly looking peachier," Alicia greeted, noticing Phoenix's warm hair and her healthy complexion.