Blue. Harry decided that the sky was definitely blue. It wasn’t yellow or purple or red. It was blue. Maybe he thought that was because after all the oxygen left his lungs everything seemed blue. His head was throbbing. His body was aching. He was sure he knocked a few teeth loose on impact. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was flat on his back in the Quidditch pitch and his broom was nowhere to be found. In his six years at Hogwarts, he had never simply fallen off his broom. Sure, a few had tried to hex him off of it, but that had never worked. Breathe, Harry, he told himself. When he did, it hurt like hell. Okay. Don’t breathe, he thought weakly and blinked at the sun for several minutes. "Lovely day today, isn’t it?" a chipper voice suddenly said beside him. He hadn’t heard anyone walk over to him and thought himself quite alone on the pitch. His glasses were missing, probably crushed somewhere, and he didn’t want to move his head. Harry flicked his eyes over to the right and noticed a blonde-haired girl with a pleasant expression on her face. "Luna," he coughed at her in acknowledgement. She sat down daintily beside him, smoothing her robes around her. "I saw you, and thought I would come over. Are you trying Muggle sports now, Harry?" He glared at her out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to talk. It hurt to talk. When finally the silence had gotten to be too much, he answered, "What Muggle sports?" "Sky diving from the looks of things," she said with her innocent tone. "I was diving for leprechaun gold," Harry replied sarcastically. Luna looked at the field of neatly trimmed green grass. It was a lovely green that spread underneath the sky in brilliant contrast to the endless blue. To her side she picked up a vivid emerald shamrock. Putting it in Harry’s line of vision, Luna said, "You might be right. Isn’t this pretty?" Green! Looking at it was almost a relief from the monotony of the blue he’d been seeing. "Shamrocks and leprechaun gold. How perfect," he said dryly. "It is," she agreed, "especially since today is St. Patrick’s Day." "Only for the Irish and some of the Yanks," Harry noted. He tried to sit up, but hissed in pain. He clutched his arms to his side and grimaced while Luna prattled. "You really should have Madam Pomfrey do something about that." "Brilliant idea, Luna," he said in annoyance at such an obvious statement. She slid closer to him and put his arm around her shoulder and her arm around his back for support. She then helped him to his feet and Summoned his broom. "Thank you," Harry said. "What are friends for?" she asked rhetorically then she said, "You actually have something in common with Saint Patrick, Harry." "What’s that?" he asked as they hobbled back to the castle. "He was a parselmouth, of course! How do you think he got rid of all those snakes?" She looked surprised that he hadn’t realized that himself. "Maybe he wasn’t a parselmouth at all. Maybe some giant sea monster came on land and used them all for dental floss!" Harry said just to be random. That was the kind of absurd thing Luna would believe. "I don’t believe in dental floss or in dentists. That’s just silly, Harry!" she said with a face. He gaped at her statement. "How can you not believe in dentists? Hermione’s parents are dentists." "Have you ever met her parents?" Luna asked pointedly. "No..." he said, looking at her profile suspiciously. "Then how can you know for sure they’re dentists! I think it’s just a story made up to scare Muggles and children and give fairies a bad name. Honestly, a fairy that takes away children’s teeth! That sort of thing could give a person nightmares," Luna said sounding concerned for children with Tooth Fairy related nightmares. Harry stayed quiet after that until they reached the hospital wing. When Madam Pomfrey asked of his condition, he replied, "I fell from my broom." The medi-witch took care of him while Luna patiently waited. After she was done, Madame Pomfrey told Harry to get bed rest for the remainder of the afternoon. He was exhausted and wasn’t going to argue. "Harry, that was some bad broom diving you did out there," Luna remarked. "You really shouldn’t do it again." Feeling more comfortable in the hospital bed, but no less sarcastic, Harry asked, "How else would you have me celebrate St. Patrick’s Day? Do you want me to go talk to some snakes?" "I’m sure we can go find some in the Slytherin dungeon when you feel better," she said with a nod. "Oh, that would make this good day even better," he said in a huff. Luna frowned at his continued bad attitude and was disappointed with what he said next. "Can’t you do anything normally, Luna?" "Of course I can," she said somberly. She walked up to him and quickly kissed his cheek. After that, handed him the wilted little shamrock she still had and softly said, "Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Harry." Luna then left the hospital wing leaving Harry to stare dumbly at her retreating yellow-blonde head.
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