"Don't touch Harry, please don't touch Harry!"
A woman's scream echoed deep within Harry's mind, shrill and desperate.
"Get out of the way, you stupid woman..."
A cold voice, filled with impatient malice, was followed by a piercing cackle.
No... don't... Harry felt himself falling, plunging into an endless, icy, bone-chilling mist.
He tried to reach out, to grab the screaming woman, but his limbs felt heavy as lead.
She was going to die... she was going to be killed... Why did his heart feel so sad?
"Please... have mercy... have mercy..."
The scream abruptly stopped.
The world fell silent.
"Luckily, Professor Dumbledore cast a spell."
"I thought he was certainly a goner."
"It's amazing, even his glasses didn't break."
Who was speaking?
The whispers were muffled, as if heard through thick cotton.
Harry didn't know where he was, or what had happened. He only felt every bone in his body screaming in pain, as if he had been thoroughly beaten by a Troll.
Then, dark, hooded figures appeared in his mind... cold... screaming... Dementors!
Harry abruptly opened his eyes.
The familiar ceiling of the Hospital Wing came into view.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team members were gathered around his bed, covered in mud from head to toe, looking disheveled.
Ron and Hermione were also there, both soaked through, their hair dripping, looking as if they had just been pulled from the Black Lake.
"Harry! You're awake!" Hermione excitedly leaned forward.
"How do you feel?" Ron's face was full of worry.
"I..." Harry started to speak, only to find his throat as dry as sandpaper.
"What happened? The match?"
The moment he asked, the surroundings instantly fell silent.
Captain Wood hung his head, mud and water dripping from his hair. He stood motionless, like a soulless statue.
Fred and George's freckles seemed dull.
"We lost." Fred's voice was very low.
"Cedric Diggory caught the Golden Snitch." George continued.
"Right after you... fell."
Harry propped himself up, trying to sit. The soreness throughout his body made him gasp.
He remembered what had happened.
He had fallen off his broom, in front of the entire school.
"It's not your fault, Harry." Angelina quickly said.
"It was those Dementors! Hundreds of them! They suddenly appeared from the dark clouds, it was terrifying!"
"Yeah, who could stand a sight like that." Ron patted his chest, still shaken.
"I feel like I'll never be happy again."
"But it's a good thing Charlie intervened in time and drove away the Dementors."
Harry said nothing, lying there quietly, not only because they lost the match, but also because of the screaming in his head; he probably guessed it was his mother.
"Are you alright, Harry?"
Harry looked up to see everyone's worried faces.
Not wanting them to worry, he tried to make his voice sound calm, wanting to change the subject.
"By the way, did anyone get my Nimbus?"
The previously noisy expressions of concern instantly vanished, replaced by an awkward silence.
Ron and Hermione quickly exchanged glances, then immediately looked away.
Harry's heart sank.
"What's wrong?" he pressed.
Hermione bit her lip, seemingly choosing her words carefully, before finally speaking with difficulty:
"Your broom... it was blown away by the wind."
"And then what?" Harry's voice was tight.
"Then," Hermione's voice was even lower.
"It crashed into... crashed into the Whomping Willow."
The Whomping Willow.
Harry's insides felt like they were being squeezed by an invisible hand.
That irritable old tree could tear even a car into scrap metal.
He looked at Hermione, awaiting the final verdict.
"Professor Flitwick just brought it back before you woke up."
Hermione bent down and picked up a cloth bag from the foot of the bed, pouring its contents onto Harry's bed with a clatter.
A dozen shattered wooden pieces and a pile of shapeless twigs scattered, the once smooth broom handle broken into several sections.
These were all the remnants of his Nimbus 2000.
Harry was ultimately emotional.
Madam Pomfrey happened to walk over with a potion, and seeing this, her face immediately hardened.
"Alright, alright, everyone out!" She waved her arms, like shooing a flock of chicks.
"The patient needs rest! The ward must be absolutely quiet!"
Everyone was forcefully pushed out of the ward by her.
Hermione and Ron, helpless, could only drag their soaking wet bodies back to the Castle.
When they returned to the Great Hall, there was hardly anyone left inside.
Charlie was sitting at the Hufflepuff long table, talking to Ernie and Justin.
After listening to Charlie, Ernie's eyes lit up, he nodded heavily, then excitedly ran out of the Great Hall.
Hermione and Ron walked to the Hufflepuff long table.
"Charlie." Hermione sat down and greeted Charlie.
"How is Harry?"
"He's fine, it's just that his broom is broken, and he's not in a good mood."
Charlie nodded.
Having a beloved item broken, that's indeed very sad.
"Let's go to Hogsmeade with him another day to buy a new one, I know the owner well."
"By the way, Hermione, I actually needed to talk to you about something."
Hermione paused.
"What is it?"
"Help me find information on Dementors."
Hermione blinked.
"What do you need Dementor information for?"
"I want to research Dementors, so I need some information, the more detailed the better."
Upon hearing this, Hermione's eyebrows drooped, thinking, 'He's using me as a tool again, you eight-deer!'
She reluctantly stood up and tugged at her robes.
"Alright, I'll go check the library."
"Thanks." Charlie waved at her.
Hermione turned and left the Great Hall.
Justin asked somewhat puzzled.
"Didn't you already have Ernie look up information?"
"Two people are more efficient."
Charlie sat back down in his chair, resting his legs on the adjacent seat, sinking into the back of the chair.
Justin pouted.
"You're quite leisurely yourself, like a wealthy landlord."
Charlie closed his eyes and tutted.
"Why are you so whiny."
Justin paused, then reached up and touched his own.
"It's not crooked."
Charlie:????
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