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The Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor match didn't go as anyone had planned.
The match had begun with the usual intense energy, loud cheering from all houses. Bludgers and Quaffles soar through the sky at high speed.
Fred and George Weasley worked in tandem, their strategy focused on keeping the bludgers away from Harry and targeting Hufflepuff's Seeker, Cedric Diggory.
As the match had progressed, the weather became worse and storm clouds darken the sky, and rain begins to pour down, making it difficult to see or control the broomsticks.
"Oh god, is it even worth watching this match, i'm soaked." Astoria calls out, hugging her body tightly. She had, to no ones surprise, forgot her coat.
"Here." Draco nudged her carefully, handing his rain jacket to her, avoiding eye contact with the soaked girl.
Astoria took the jacket, a dumbfounded expression written across her face, before she managed to mutter out a small 'thanks'.
Lyra smiled to herself before quickly putting the hood of her rain coat over her head. No way her newly straightened hair would get messed up in this chaos.
"Bloody hell, can't see a thing!" The players were shouting, eyes squinting through the downpour.
Harry eventually spots the Golden Snitch. He soared up towards the clouds along side Cedric Diggory, but as they went higher and higher, Cedric eventually gave up, returning to a safe height.
A couple minutes went by, and nobody could spot Harry from the stadium.
Then a couple minutes later, everyone watches in horror as Harry, who was chasing the Snitch at breakneck speed, suddenly comes falling back down.
His body goes limp as he plummets from the sky, falling at an alarming rate towards the ground.
"Harry!" Fred yells, his voice barely audible in the howling wind and rain.
He and George race toward him, but they're too far away to reach him in time. Their hearts sink as they realised there was nothing they could do.
Fortunately, just as Harry is about to hit the ground, Dumbledore, with a swift motion of his wand, he casts a spell to slow Harry's descent. Harry's fall is cushioned, but he still crashes hard to the ground, knocked unconscious.
Fred and George land near him immediately, brushing a hand through their wet, now dark brown hair, both brothers in shock. The crowd is in an uproarâscreams and gasps echoing across the stadium.
Lyra watches as the twins, and the rest of the Gryffindor team circle around him, trying to get him to consciousness, but it was to no use.
The Dementors that had entered the field are now being driven away, but the damage is done. The mood in the stadium is dark, heavy with fear, and Dumbledore knows the match cannot continue under these conditions.
With a flick of his wand towards his neck, his voice booms across the stadium in a loud voice.
"The match must be cancelled, return to your houses this instant."
The Gryffindor team is stunned, even the Slytherins around Lyra seems concerned for the brown haired boy. A couple of groans could be heard across the seats.
Nobody blames the boy of course, but a Quidditch match getting cancelled is unforgiving almost. In Lyra's personal opinion at least.
"What the bloody hell were those Dementors doing here?" Lyra mutters under her breath, shaking her head as she looks toward the exit where the creatures were last seen.
Beside her, Daphne nods, her face pale. "No idea, but we should get back."
"You're right, before the dementors come for us too. Oh, wait I forgot. Stuff like that only happens to the chosen one, the brilliant Harry Potter." Draco sneers.
The group only rolls their eyes as they walk back to the castle.
As the Slytherins start leaving the stands, Fred could spot Lyra Arakan walking with the crowd. She locks eyes with him for a split second, before she vanishes into the crowd.
Her face is was unreadable, but she, too, seems disturbed by what happened to Harry. It's a fleeting moment, but it stays with Fred as they all head back to the castle.
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Lyra and the group ran towards the castle, and Blaise had slipped and fell at least four times by the time they reached the school.
"Never let me run in the rain, ever again." Blaise breathed out in exhaustion. The knees of his pants were coloured a deep green, and his clothes were covered in dirt.
As soon as Blaise finished his complaint, Lyra let out a snort of laughter, barely managing to hold back her giggles.
Astoria was the first to break, her laughter ringing out across the courtyard.
"You look like you've been wrestling the whomping willow!" Astoria teased "Honestly, Blaise, it's a miracle how you've managed to survive all these years!"
Daphne smirked. "Are you sure it wasn't five falls? It looked more like you were attempting some new kind of interpretive dance."
Blaise shot her a glare, "Oh, very funny. I'd like to see any of you run that 'fast' without slipping."
Draco, finally cracked a grin. "I don't think it's the rain that's the problem, Blaise. I think it's your coordination. I've seen house-elves with better footwork."
"Right, because you're so graceful, Malfoy," Blaise shot back sarcastically. "I recall a certain someone tripping over his own broom last week."
"That was tactical!" Draco retorted, lifting his chin. "You, however, were practically swimming in the mud. Don't let the dementors near this guy."
"Honestly, Blaise," Lyra chimed in "It's a good thing we weren't trying to be stealthy. The sound of you hitting the ground was louder than the storm itself."
Astoria stepped forward, pretending to inspect Blaise's clothes. "At least you've got the colours down," she said mockingly. "Green and brownâperfect Slytherin fashion. You're really starting trends here!"
Blaise rolled his eyes, trying to brush off some of the dirt. "Alright, laugh it up. I'll remember this next time one of you trips over a twig."
But his friends' laughter only grew louder, and he couldn't help but chuckle himself
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