it was no secret that quidditch was a dangerous game. between aggressive players and the enchanted equipment that they used, it was rather unpredictable as well. even though finn had never found himself falling in harm’s way, there was always that latent risk every time he stepped onto the pitch. all it took was one moment of lost concentration. slytherin was up in points and he was taking a premature victory lap when he took notice of a certain special someone in the crowd subtly wearing his house colors despite the fact that they were in a different house. it wasn’t something that many other people would have taken notice of, but he did. a smile had curled onto his lips and he could feel a sense of pride welling up inside of him before he was suddenly hit by another player who was dodging a bludger. the hit caused the boy to lose balance and he was hanging by his broom before he fell to the ground. suddenly the world around him went dark. when he awoke, he was in the hospital wing in bed and a searing pain in the region of his left clavicle. a broken collarbone, something that could be fixed with medicine that tasted ABSOLUTELY AWFUL. it wasn’t far too long before he was up on his feet again despite the residual soreness. he was on the way back to the slytherin common room when his gaze caught with theirs. “are you okay?” it seemed like a stupid question to ask considering he was the injured one. but ever since he had woken up, he had been thinking about how they might have possibly reacted to watching his fall.
