Gwen hardly slept that night. She kept dozing in and out of sleep, listening to the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle windows and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. She was looking at the clock hourly. At one point, Peeves drifted into the room, pelted something at the wall, then bobbed out cackling.
At around five in the morning, she could not drift back off to sleep, so she got herself up and dressed, quietly so as not to wake the others, then went down to the common room.
The noise of the storm was even louder downstairs, and Gwen knew better than to think that the game would be cancelled. Quidditch was not cancelled for trifles such as the weather.
Nevertheless, Gwen was apprehensive. She was light on her broom which made her faster, but against the gale she would be easily thrown about. She was the average weight and stature for her age, perhaps on the more petite side, but with the storm, she was at a disadvantage.
While Gwen sat across from the fire, trying to ignore the wind as she read her book, Harry came down from the boys' dorms.
'Can't sleep?' he said, carrying Crookshanks in his arms.
'No,' she said. 'Why've you got--?'
'He keeps trying to get in the boys' dorms,' Harry said, placing Crookshanks on one of the empty armchairs. 'I think Ron's right, thousands of mice in this castle and he's trying to get to Scabbers.'
Gwen smiled. 'Scabbers is probably the easiest one to get,' she said.
'They're like Tom and Jerry.'
'Who's that?'
Harry yawned. 'Muggle thing,' he said. 'Cat and mouse who are always after each other.'
The two of them sat by the fire, waiting for the hours to pass as they discussed their apprehension for the upcoming game, taking it in turns to get up every now and then and stop Crookshanks from creeping up the stairs to where Ron and Scabbers lay sleeping. The wind was rattling the windows in their casements, and it had started to rain, thundering it down in noisy sheets.
Eventually, they left to make their way down to breakfast.
'Stand and fight, you mangy curs!' yelled Sir Cadogen as they climbed through the portrait hole.
They managed to wake up a bit over some cereal, and as they helped themselves to some toast, the rest of the team began to show up.
'It's going to be a tough one,' said Wood, who wasn't eating anything.
'Stop worrying, Oliver,' said Angelina soothingly. 'We don't mind a bit of rain.'
But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Quidditch was a popular sport, and thus, the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns towards the Quidditch pitch, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went.
In the changing rooms, the team changed into the scarlet robes and waited for Oliver's usual pre match pep talk, but it never came. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow him.
The wind was so strong that they staggered sideways as they walked out onto the pitch. Katie tumbled into Gwen, who helped her steady herself, before they continued on with the rest of the team.
If the crowds were cheering, it was lost to the howling wind. Across the pitch, the Hufflepuffs approached, wearing canary yellow robes. The captains walked up to each other and shook hands. Cedric Diggory smiled at Oliver, but Oliver now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. Gwen saw Madame Hooch's mouth form the words, 'Mount your brooms.' Gwen pulled her foot out of the mud and swung it over her Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Madame Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that was shrill and distant -- they were off.
Angelina had possession of the Quaffle. Gwen and Katie tailed her, all three of their brooms swerving slightly in the rain. Angelina threw the Quaffle toward Gwen, who just managed to catch it as the pelting rain attacked her face. She was soaked through instantly after rising off the ground, and could barely see who was her own teammate and who was not. She flew as best she could across the pitch, hoping that the hoops she was flying toward was the Hufflepuff ones and not Gryffindor's, nearly got whacked with a bludger, then, dived towards a hoop-- the Hufflepuff keeper saw her coming, dived down with her-- she lifted her broom upwards at the last second, fighting against the wind and launched the Quaffle--
The flash of gold light told her she'd scored the first goal, only barely, as the wind had taken the Quaffle in its gusts and thrown it slightly off course.
The game continued, the rain stinging Gwen's face. She flew around the pitch at the fastest speed she could, gripping her broomstick with one hand and using the other to shield her eyes from the rain when she wasn't holding the Quaffle. She'd almost knocked George off his broom at one point, and narrowly avoided colliding head on with Cedric Diggory when he appeared suddenly through the mist of rain. She'd collided sideways with Harry at one point, almost knocking them both off their own broomsticks, screaming an apology over the wind which she was sure he had not heard. At one point, Fred had mistakenly whacked a bludger in her direction, which she narrowly avoided.
Finally, she had the Quaffle again, having seen it being thrown but was unsure whether it was actually being thrown at her by Angelina or Katie, or if she'd taken it into Gryffindor possession.
She tried to score at least fifteen more times, only ten of those being successful as every time she threw the Quaffle, the wind would take it for itself. The rain was so thick she couldn't tell her own teammates from the rivals, not until they were directly on top of each other.
With the first flash of lightning came so did the sound of Madame Hooch's whistle; Gwen could just about see Oliver's outline through the thick rain, gesturing her to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud.
'I called for a time out!' Wood roared at the team. 'Come on, under here--' They huddled at the edge of the pitch under a large umbrella; Harry was hurriedly wiping his glasses on his robes.
'What's the score?' He asked.
'We're fifty points up,' said Wood, 'but unless we catch that Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night.'
It had, in fact, gotten darker. Gwen wasn't even sure how long they had been playing for.
'I've got no chance with these on,' Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses.
'Give me your glasses, quick,' Gwen said, pulling her wand from her robes with a shivering hand. She took the glasses, tapped them with her wand, and said, 'Impervius!'
She handed them back to Harry. 'There.'
He put them on, and sure enough, the rain did not touch them. The team stared in amazement, while Wood looked as though he could have kissed her.
'Brilliant!' he said, grabbing her and hugging her to his side in a bone crushing hug. 'OK, team, let's go for it!'
Numb with cold, Gwen and the rest of the team kicked off from the ground, speeding back into the air with newfound determination. Gwen managed to get hold of the Quaffle, narrowly avoiding George once again who whacked a Bludger from her path. She, Katie and Angelina managed to score a few more goals, they were almost at one hundred points up.
There was another clap of thunder followed immediately by a fork of lightning. The light caught Gwen by surprise, and she caught Oliver's eye, who was looking ominous from his spot at the goal hoops.
At one point, Gwen was following who she believed to be Katie, when there was another flash of lightning that illuminated the stands, only a couple feet below her. She hadn't realised how close she was, moved to turn, when she caught sight of a giant, shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost empty row of seats. It was staring directly at Harry, who was flying high and fast across the pitch.
She had no time to think about the dog-- a Bludger came speeding out of the fog, directly toward her-- she didn't even have a chance to move out of its way, she braced herself to be hit--
Fred came to her rescue, appearing almost out of nowhere and smacking the Bludger from its murderous path so hard that Gwen heard the sound of impact above the wind.
She continued, zipping past the stands where sat Lee Jordan who was, probably in vain, commentating the match.
Gwen had hold of the Quaffle again, shot down through the wind, tried to keep her broom on course and launched it at Angelina, who was flying toward the goalposts. Gwen turned her broom, sped toward the other end of the pitch, the flash of gold from Angelina's score lighting her way.
Hufflepuff were now in possession-- Gwen scraped Cedric Diggory who was now speeding across the pitch. She squinted through the rain.
But then something odd was happening; as she was flying, searching for whoever had the Quaffle, she realised that an eerie silence was filling the stadium. The wind, though strong and pushing her around, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned the sound off, as though she had suddenly gone deaf--
And then that horribly familiar cold swept over her, inside her, and she became aware of something moving, only just below her...
The game forgotten, she looked down. At least one hundred Dementors were standing below. It was as though freezing water was rising in her chest, cutting her insides... then she heard him. Tom. Whispering inside her head.
She was still on the pitch, hovering in midair, being tossed around by the wind-- she gripped onto her broom, hands freezing, the skin of her knuckles cracking.
Someone screamed her name through the thick fog that clouded her brain. A flash of drenched scarlet robes and soaking red hair shot past her, a Beater's bat collided with a Bludger...
Then she saw Harry.
Tom's voice continued to taunt her, but she did not care. She did not even realise what she was doing. Her body was moving of its own accord, tilting her broom upward and zipping through the sheets of rain, fighting the wind forward, aiming for the figure that was now hurling toward the ground--
Sound came rushing back, the roar of the wind shaking her eardrums, the rain stinging her skin. She reached a hand out, diving down and down, following the falling figure, gaining speed she didn't even realise she was capable of--
She grasped Harry round the middle, turning her broom up at the last second with great effort to avoid going straight into the ground. The Dementors watched, their hidden faces following her. She just managed it, hauling Harry's limp body back into the air, she was losing speed...
George was there, by her side, helping to distribute the weight. Together they hauled Harry up, flying back to the ground, as far from the Dementors as they could.
Gwen swore under her breath, trying to ignore the chill that crept around her lungs, unsure at this point whether it was from the weather or the Dementors. She tried to ignore Tom's voice speaking to her from within the depths of her mind. At this point, she was running solely on adrenaline. With the help of George, she lay Harry on the ground on his back, tilted his head up to free his airway.
She was stringing swear words together, begging, praying that Harry was alive. He was deathly white, his body ice cold to the touch. Hot tears were pouring down her face, she felt for his pulse.
'Oh, thank God,' she cried, feeling the steady beating beneath her fingers.
The rest of the team had flown down by now, were crowding around them.
'Oh, my--' Katie gasped.
'Is he alive?' Fred gulped.
'Out of the way!'
Dumbeldore's voice boomed above the whistling wind. The Dementors were gone, students were filtering onto the pitch, the wind and rain and thunder still pounded around them.
Dumbledore's face was thunderous with rage. He waved his wand, and a stretcher appeared beneath Harry. Dumbledore waved his wand again, and it lifted Harry into the air, moving him off the pitch. George pulled Gwen to her feet. She was shaking, her legs barely able to hold her weight. Gwen could still hear Tom's voice, commanding her from deep within her mind.
'You're not real,' she whispered to herself. 'You're just a memory.'
They were about to start following Dumbledore and Harry back to the castle when Cedric Diggory came running over.
'I'm so sorry!' he shouted over the wind. 'I didn't know-- I hadn't realised what happened--' He was out of breath, the Golden Snitch glinting in his closed palm. Wood looked as though someone had actually died.
Madame Hooch was there now, shielding her eyes from the rain.
'Madame Hooch,' Diggory said. 'This-- this isn't fair-- we should have a rematch--!'
'You won, Diggory,' Hooch said.
'You did.' Wood's voice surprised the whole team. 'You won fair and square. You deserve it.'
'But--' Diggory looked utterly bewildered. 'But, what happened to Potter-- that's not fair! The Dementors weren't supposed to be here, you heard Dumbledore--'
Gwen didn't care who had won. She was trembling, wanting nothing more than to be with Harry, to make sure he was OK.
She turned and ran up the castle grounds, the team following behind her, Diggory's noble argument lost to them all.
In the Hospital Wing, beneath the light, Harry looked even whiter. He was breathing steadily, his body drenched, muddy and ice cold. Madame Pomfrey shooed the team away, who were very quickly joined by Ron and Hermione, who both looked pale and stunned. Dumbledore had explained to Madame Pomfrey what had happened, and the nurse immediately began to fuss.
'Dementors! Nasty creatures!' she cried, mixing a concoction together. Dumbledore excused himself, brushing past the Gryffindor team, Ron and Hermione, his light eyes glinting in anger.
When Madame Pomfrey had poured a nectar gently into Harry's mouth, she allowed the others to fully enter the Hospital Wing.
'Don't crowd him!' she commanded. Gwen, Ron and Hermione were the first at Harry's bedside. Gwen sank into a seat next to the bed, her legs practically collapsing beneath her and she managed enough energy to clasp Harry's cold hand in her own. After about ten minutes, Professor Flitwick came in, carrying a small bag.
'His broom,' he said gently, casting Harry's sleeping form a sympathetic look. 'Or rather, what's left of it.'
Gwen took the bag from him. Her heart sank as she saw what was inside.
'Oh, no,' she murmured, passing it to Ron, who peered inside, his mouth dropping open.
'What happened?' said George, catching a glimpse.
'It blew into the Whomping Willow,' Flitwick explained. 'That's all I could get.' He left them then, the group sinking into a hollow silence.
'Lucky the ground was so soft,' Angelina said eventually, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
'I thought he was dead for sure,' Ron said.
'But he didn't even break his glasses,' Katie said.
'Gwen, you were amazing.' Hermione smiled, her eyes bloodshot from crying. Gwen couldn't even manage a smile back, barely nodding in response.
George exhaled deeply. 'That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life.'
Harry's eyes snapped open, suddenly.
'Harry!' said Fred. 'How're you feeling?'
Harry stared around at all of them. He sat up so suddenly they all gasped.
'What happened?' he said.
'You fell off,' said Fred. 'Must've been, what, a hundred feet?'
'We thought you'd died,' Gwen said, voice hoarse and still trembling. She placed her hands in her lap to try and steady them.
'But the match,' said Harry. 'What happened? Are we having a replay?'
No one said anything. Harry's face sunk.
'We didn't-- lose?'
'Diggory got the Snitch,' George explained. 'Just after you fell. He didn't realise what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square... even Wood admits it.'
'Where is Wood?' Harry asked.
'Still in the showers,' said Fred. 'We think he's trying to drown himself.'
Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair.Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.
'C'mon Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before.'
'There had to be one time you didn't get it,' said George.
'It's not over yet,' said Fred. 'We lost by fifty points, right? So if Hufflepuff lose to ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin...'
'Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least one hundred points,' said George.
'But if they beat Ravenclaw...'
'No way, Ravenclaw are too good. But if Slytherin lose against Hufflepuff...'
'It all depends on points-- a margin of fifty to a hundred either way--'
The team tried to cheer Harry up, everyone talking as best they could, but Gwen could tell that Harry was trying to understand the fact that he had just lost his first ever Quidditch game.
After a while, Madame Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.
'We'll come and see you later,' Fred told him. 'Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had.'
The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madame Pomfrey shut the door once they'd left, looking disapproving. Ron and Hermione moved nearer to Harry's bed.
'Dumbledore was really angry,' Hermione said in a shaky voice. 'I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the pitch as you fell. Gwen had chased after you and she caught you just before you hit the ground, and George helped her get you down safely, while Dumbledore whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium straight away... he was furious they'd come into the grounds, we heard him--'
'Then he magicked you onto a stretcher,' said Ron. 'And walked up to the school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were...'
His voice faded away. Harry seemed to be distracted. When he looked up, he clocked the anxious looks on Gwen, Ron and Hermione's faces and quickly changed the subject.
'Did anyone get my Nimbus?'
Gwen, Ron and Hermione shared an anxious look.
'Er--'
'What?' said Harry, looking between the three of them.
'Well... when you fell off, it got blown away,' Gwen said hesitantly.
'And?'
'And it hit...'
'Oh, Harry,' Hermione said. 'It hit the Whomping Willow.'
Harry looked a mixture of startled and petrified
'And?' he said.
'Well, you know the Whomping Willow,' said Ron. 'It-- it doesn't like to be hit.'
'Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around,' said Gwen in a small voice. She nodded at Hermione, who, hesitantly, reached down to the bag at her feet, turned it upside down and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed.
Harry looked like he'd just witnessed his best friend's death.