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Then, in a blur of green and silver, Harry Potter sprung into action. Dressed in his Slytherin robes, he stood up on his broom, descending at a breathtaking speed, even faster than Susan's free fall. "Oh no!" Madam Hooch cried out, her voice laced with fear and disbelief.

As the ground rapidly approached, Susan screamed, her fall seemingly unstoppable. The students, their eyes wide with dread, watched as Harry closed the distance between him and Susan. His face was a mask of concentration, his eyes fixed on her.

Madam Hooch, her wand still raised, was ready to intervene, but Harry was faster. Just as Susan was about to hit the ground, Harry leapt from his broom with incredible agility. He caught Susan in his arms, rolling away with her in a protective embrace, ensuring her head was safe from the impact.

They rolled across the ground, coming to a stop a few feet away. Susan, her body shaking from the shock, started to cry hysterically, her tears soaking into Harry's robes. The class, now unfrozen from their shock, rushed over, their expressions a mix of relief and awe.

Madam Hooch, her face pale, approached them quickly. "Mr. Potter, that was incredibly reckless, but..." she trailed off, her stern expression softening as she saw the state Susan was in. "Are you two alright?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Harry, still holding Susan, nodded. "We're fine, Madam Hooch," he assured her, his voice calm despite the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

His hand was caressing Susan's back while the other was pressing her head to his chest, soothing her. The students and Madam Hooch crowded around, their faces reflecting a mix of relief and astonishment.

"Master Harry," Nigel's voice echoed in Harry's mind, carrying a note of admonishment, "As much as I appreciate your Slytherin cunning and ambition, orchestrating such a dramatic rescue was a bit, shall we say, nefarious?"

Harry, still comforting Susan, replied internally, "I needed a way to approach her, Nigel. It was a calculated risk."

Nigel, in his characteristic style, retorted, "Ah, yes, 'calculated risk,' the excuse of champions and madmen alike. Let's hope this doesn't become a habit, or you'll be known as the Boy Who Crashes rather than the Boy Who Lived."

Madam Hooch, now kneeling beside them, checked Susan for injuries. "Ms. Bones, are you hurt anywhere?" Her voice was laced with concern.

Susan, her tears subsiding, shook her head, finding solace in Harry's reassuring presence. "I'm okay, thanks to Harry," she managed to say, her voice still trembling.

Madam Hooch turned to Harry, her expression a complex blend of gratitude and reprimand. "Mr. Potter, that was an incredibly brave act, but please, leave such maneuvers to the professionals next time."

She reached out to pull Harry's robe, and the class saw injuries all over Harry's body. Harry grimaced. The fall, although calculated, was fast enough to peel off his skin. His arms and legs, his clothes, were all torn up. Blood was oozing from some of the places. Seeing it, the class gasped, Susan most verbal. Her eyes teared up once more, as she hugged Harry harder, "Sorry, it was all my fault."

Harry patted her back, "It is fine. These injuries are nothing," he softly said. It worked wonders. Not only Susan, but other girls in the class also looked at Harry in astonishment.

Madam Hooch, her eyes wide with concern, immediately called for assistance. "Quickly, we need to get Mr. Potter to the hospital wing," she ordered, her voice urgent.

As Harry was helped up with magic, his classmates murmured amongst themselves, their expressions a mix of admiration and worry. Harry, trying to downplay his injuries, managed a small smile. "Really, I'm alright. It's nothing a little magic can't fix."

Susan, still holding onto him, looked guilt-ridden. "I'm so sorry, Harry. This shouldn't have happened."

Harry reassured her, "Don't worry about it, Ms. Bones. I'm just glad you're safe."

As they made their way to the hospital wing, Nigel's voice rang in Harry's mind, "I must say, Master Harry, your heroics are becoming quite legendary. Though, do try to avoid turning yourself into a patchwork quilt next time."

Harry chuckled internally, wincing slightly as Madam Pomfrey, the school healer, began checking his wounds. "Noted, Nigel. But sometimes, a bit of dramatic flair is necessary."

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue as she applied a healing salve to Harry's wounds. "What were you thinking, young man? Such reckless behavior could have ended much worse!"

Harry offered an apologetic smile. "I just couldn't stand by and do nothing, Madam Pomfrey."

She shook her head, though her eyes held a hint of admiration. "Brave and foolish, a dangerous combination. Why aren't you in Gryffindor?" Madam Pomfrey's voice carried a mix of reprimand and begrudging respect as she tended to Harry's wounds. She was angry at his recklessness and putting himself into danger. Her glare also extended to Madam Hooch, clearly disapproving of the circumstances that led to Harry's injuries. Madam Pomfrey was known for her exceptional healing skills, but she had little tolerance for unnecessary risks that endangered the students.

Susan Bones sat on the next bed, her eyes puffy from crying. She had narrowly escaped a terrible fall, and now her concern was entirely for Harry. She was there ostensibly to be checked over by Madam Pomfrey, but it was evident that her primary reason for staying was to ensure Harry was alright.

Harry, trying to lighten the mood, said, "I guess I'm just full of surprises, Madam Pomfrey." His attempt at humor, however, did little to alleviate the healer's concern.

Madam Pomfrey, not one to be easily placated, responded sharply, "You might find this all a bit of a lark, Mr. Potter, but injuries are no laughing matter. You could have been seriously hurt!"

Nigel quipped in Harry's mind, "I do believe, Master Harry, that our dear Madam Pomfrey prefers her patients boring and unharmed. You, on the other hand, seem to be vying for a lifetime achievement award in the art of dramatic entrances to the infirmary."

Harry couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, immediately regretting it as a twinge of pain reminded him of his injuries. "Nigel, you two sound like two peas in a pod. Want me to play match-maker?," he thought in response, his tone reflecting a mix of amusement and discomfort.

Nigel's virtual chuckle reverberated through Harry's mind, tinged with his typical dry wit. "Ah, Master Harry, the thought of being matched with Madam Pomfrey is as appealing as a Mandrake choir concert. Though, I must admit, our mutual fondness for scolding you does have a certain... charm."

Harry winced slightly as he shifted in the bed, replying mentally with a playful tone, "So, what you're saying, Nigel, is that you two have more in common than you thought? I can see it now: 'Nigel and Poppy: A Tale of Endless Nagging.'"

Nigel retorted, "Oh, the horror! The mere thought of a joint venture in lecturing you on safety is almost enough to make me wish for a system reboot. But fear not, Master Harry, I shall endure. Someone has to keep your reckless tendencies in check, after all."

Harry suppressed his chuckles, careful not to aggravate his injuries. "I guess I should be thankful then. Without you two, who knows what kind of trouble I'd get into?"

Nigel's voice took on a mock-serious tone, "Indeed, you might actually have a peaceful, injury-free year at Hogwarts. But where's the fun in that? Adventure, drama, a dash of danger – that's the Harry Potter way!"

Harry grinned, his spirits lifted despite the aches and pains. "Thanks, Nigel. I'll make sure to keep it interesting, just for you."

Nigel's last remark came with a hint of fond exasperation, "Oh, I have no doubt about that, Master Harry. No doubt at all."

As Madam Pomfrey finished applying the last of the salve, she instructed Harry sternly, "You'll need to rest here for a while, young man. I want those wounds to heal properly."

Susan, who had been watching the whole exchange silently, finally spoke up, her voice tinged with guilt. "Harry, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. If I hadn't lost control of my broom..."

Harry turned his head to look at her, offering a reassuring smile. "Ms. Bones, don't blame yourself. These things happen. I'm just glad I could help."

Susan seemed somewhat comforted by his words, but the worry didn't completely leave her eyes. She knew the risk Harry had taken to save her, and it weighed heavily on her conscience.

Blushing, Susan mumbled, "Please call me Susan." She averted her gaze, clearly embarrassed by the attention and her own vulnerability. Smiling, Harry looked into her eyes and said, "Nice to formally meet you, Susan." As she met his green eyes, her blush deepened, a clear sign of her growing admiration and gratitude towards him.

Harry smirked inwardly at the day's events, a sense of accomplishment mingling with his physical discomfort. "Nigel, can I have a robotic 'Mission Accomplished' please?" he thought with a hint of amusement.

Nigel, his voice dripping with a sarcasm that was almost tangible, replied, "Well of course, Master Harry. Because nothing says 'subtle' like rescuing a classmate in a dramatic fashion and ending up in the infirmary. Mission accomplished." He finished, adding an exaggerated robotic tone to his words. Harry chuckled silently, a smirk playing on his lips, as Madam Pomfrey bustled over to Susan to tend to her needs.

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