"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points" 

"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin -"

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George. 

"But if they beat Ravenclaw..." 

"No Way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff..." 

"It all depends on the points -- a margin of a hundred either way." 

"You guys suck at comforting people. What the hell do you say when someone has cancer? Hay, at least it might be a quick death? Jesus fucking Christ in stilettos." Amelia tugged at her hair. 

Harry lay there, not saying a word. They had lost... for the first time ever, he had lost a Quidditch match. 

After ten minutes or so, Madam 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. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron, Hermione, and Amelia moved nearer to Harry's bed. 

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away... He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him --"

 "Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," said Ron. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were --" 

His voice faded, but Harry hardly noticed. 

"We are glad you are ok. Those dementors really are nasty," Amelia dug through her bag, "Here have some chocolate." she handed Harry the bar, but when he didn't take it set it down next to him on the bed. 

He was thinking about what the dementors had done to him... about the screaming voice. He looked up