Skele-gro is the next most useless potion, okay so it isn’t that useless. Really the potion is rather useful and has been used on me many a time. But I hate the stuff; I have really bad associations with the darned potion (generally the breaking of limbs) every time I end up violently throwing up the potion. Madam Frances now covers the taste up with one of her special cloaking potions; that is the only way I will ever take this stupid potion.
“I think I’m gunna be sick!” I wailed, reaching for the bucket with my good hand.
“No you’re not Miss Edgley, it’s all in the mind.” None the less Madame Frances placed the bucket firmly in my lap.
I gulped trying to keep the wave of nausea from engulfing me.
Form outside I could hear a great roar from the crowd.
Madame Frances retuned from her office with another small beaker of potion.
“Here, drink this,” she said handing the breaker to me.
I did as she ordered, and instantly my nausea vanished.
The reason I was sat on a bed in the Hospital wing nearly retching, was because I had fallen from my broom during a quidditch match, in a rather spectacular manner at that.
James had generally been cold to me since we had returned to school; nothing had changed in our first match of the new term.
“James, JAMES, JAMES!” I shouted at the top of my voice. James was only a fifty meters away from me, but he was totally blanking me.
The rest of the team were zooming this way and that in search for whatever ball they were looking for.
“WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME DO YOU WANT, EDGLEY!” he shouted back at me in an angry and sharp tone.
“I wanted to tell you that if you don’t call time now I think I’m gunna fall of my broom,” I replied in a civilised manner.
“Well tough luck, carry on,” he snapped back. His head was snapping from side to side looking for Trevor.
I swore dirtily at him and zoomed off in the opposite direction, narrowly missing a well aimed bludger.
My arms and hands were killing me. It was almost like I had lost the grip in my hands over night; it could have been down to the freezing January wind or the arm wrestling completion I had partaken in the night before, Either way my arms were about to fall off.
I started to descend gradually, but a sever gust of wind caught me off guard and I began to tumble off of my broom towards the grassy pitch.
The crowd gasped as I tumbled through the gusty air.
I didn’t scream, no, not until I hit the ground with a thud and then I heard my left arm go crack. That was when I screamed.
I screamed and cried, there was a bone sticking out of my arm for Merlin’s sake.
On my second scream everyone tuned to see what had happened. Then they descended at break neck speed.
A whistle was blown and all of the players descended.
Two prefects carried me up to the Hospital wing, and Rose elevated my arm. I was still screaming in pain at this point, my screaming caused a lot of the students to stop and stare at our curious precession.
Two prefects, a redhead holding a bleeding arm and a wailing sixth year girl splattered in mud. But then again, there wasn’t a day in Hogwarts that wasn’t void of some strange occurrence, this was added to by the large presence of the Weasley family and their wicked sense of humour and wild temper.
Madame Frances was rather impatient when we arrived, over the last week she had to deal with seven quidditch related injuries. It seemed that the first practices back were full of mishaps and injuries.
The door creaked open.
“Guys, it’s only one at a time.” I groaned, not even bothering to lift my headed from the pillow. The burning of the potion was hurting almost everywhere.
The sound of footsteps click-clacked against the laminate flooring, I rolled over onto my side to see who it was.
“Potter, what do you want?” I said, rolling back over when I had seen who it was.
“Rach...look I’m sorry,” he said, moving closer to my bed.
“Sorry for what? Being a blast-ended sckrewt, or having the attitude problems of a troll?” I said, glaring at the ceiling.
“Suppose,” James responded glumly.
“Well you can start by getting me a glass of water,” I said moodily, trying to push the thought of losing the quidditch match to Ravenclaw.
He shuffled round to the bed side cabinet and started to pour me a glass of water from the jug. He handed me the cup.
“James, I’m led down, gravity is against me here.” I tried to shuffle my body up so that I could drink without the water going everywhere. But I failed due to the immobility of one of my arms.
James put the cup down and decided to be chivalrous by helping me up.
When I was up at a right angle James handed the glass back to me.
“You know what, I’m gunna blame you for my broken arm.” I said, after swallowing a mouthful of water.
“So, did we win?” I asked, in an apprehensive tone.
“Well, let’s put it this way; I wouldn’t be putting any money on Slytherin’s next match.” He said winking at me.
“Where’s Clarabelle?” I asked, remembering my poor broomstick.
“Well, luckily Andrew caught it for you. At the moment she is in the common room with Sam.” James sat down next to me on the bed.
“Is that really a good idea?” I asked looking slightly worried.
“No probably not. So I’m gunna go get Clarabelle from him and give her to Shia.” James said in an almost regretful tone.
He left me with my thoughts and the burning sensation of the potion.
For a boy who I had known for fifteen years, he was sure difficult to understand. He had more mood swings than a Manticore on heat.
I let my head fall back on the pillow and I closed my eyes, people of the male gender were so confusing.
Wow so the cue is not existant and well I have been taking advantage of that fact.
Point out anything I have got wrong.
Oh and leave a review, :D
Write a Review My Neighbour: James Potter: Useless Potion #2