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Chapter Text

September 1st, 1990

Poppy Wood was extremely nervous. This was, of course, an understatement as she'd spent the last three weeks waking up in the middle of the night, same time every night, and almost not being able to breathe. There she was standing in front of a huge hall full of people, most of them watching closely at what was happening around her. This was what she'd been waiting for half her life and what she'd been dreading ever since her letter arrived. Her first year at Hogwarts was about to begin and the sorting ceremony was already in full swing. The Great Hall looked grand, exactly as Poppy's brother had described. Candles were floating in mid-air, casting a beautiful glow on to the faces of terrified yet excited first year students. They were all eager to get sorted into their houses and Poppy definitely was, too, she was just worried of what was to come after the sorting. Having never had many friends, the idea of getting to know complete strangers, not to mention living with them, made her a bit uneasy.

Names were being called and one by one, all the first years had to go up, sit on a creaking old chair and let a musty old hat decide where they would spend the next seven years. Poppy wasn't sure how a hat was supposed to be the best judge of character but if there was one thing she'd learned of witches and wizards, it was that they were sometimes a bit unusual. On the train from London, her brother Oliver had been telling all his friends how Poppy would surely be a Gryffindor. To Oliver, his house was naturally the best and Poppy hoped she would be sorted there as it would make Oliver exstatic and she would have him beside her at all times.

Poppy fiddled with her blonde hair. She had braided it on two sides and tied the ends with black ribbon. Oliver had said black was morbid and Poppy should wear red and gold, for good luck. "Black goes with everything," she had replied. The sorting ceremony had been going on for a century already, or so it felt. Some students barely even had the hat on, when it already had the answer and for some it took so long even Professor McGonagall looked as if she'd fall asleep any minute. Poppy was not paying much attention into who was sorted where, there was plenty of time for such things later. A loud voice brought her back to reality, interrupting her thoughts.

"Poppy Wood," Professor McGonagall bellowed, now for the third time. "Do we have a Poppy Wood here?"

"Oh, yes, right here!" Poppy answered in surprise and hurried towards Professor McGonagall. Some students were snickering. Poppy felt ashamed, she had wanted to make a good first impression, especially on the teachers, and not come across as uninterested or aloof. Poppy sat on the stool while McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on her head. The hat began speaking inside her head.

"Ahh," The Hat said, "I see you're clever and resourceful. You'll do well in your subjects but you're not quite fit for Ravenclaw."

Poppy breathed a sigh of relief. Ravenclaw had just never sounded like the place for her. Highly intelligent people were not her cup of tea, she thought they could be irritating.

"You're friendly and don't pass judgement on others... Brave, certainly, but not fit for Gryffindor. You'd make a wonderful Hufflepuff, but I wonder..."

Poppy wasn't pleased with where this was going. Hufflepuff would be great for her. She was certain she'd fit in well there, at least better than the last option. The Hat couldn't have been possibly suggesting Slytherin, Oliver had told Poppy all about the house. He always said every Slytherin was ruthless and just out for their own good. Evil, he had once said.

"You have a lot of ambition and determination, however you lack patience and the ability to play fair."

This hat had no idea what it was talking about, Oliver had always taught Poppy to never cheat. She didn't like The Hat implying she wasn't a good person. There was no way it would place her in Slytherin, it couldn't. She wasn't evil.

"You are hard working and would be great in Hufflepuff, however I'm sure you'll reach your full potential in Slytherin!" The Hat bellowed the last word out loud. Poppy was shocked but made her way towards her new house table. She looked over her shoulder and saw Oliver sitting at his table, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

Poppy sat down. Two more students were sorted after her and food began appearing on the table. Everybody dug right in and a lot of the first year Slytherins were talking to each other excitedly, it seemed a lot of them already knew one another. Pureblood families, surely. Nobody said a word to Poppy. She wanted to cry but held back the tears, not wanting anyone to see. Glancing over at Oliver again, she caught a glimpse of his face, it had gone completely pale. His eyes were wide open and staring straight ahead, not focused on anything. Poppy didn't know if she was seeing disappointment or disbelief.

After the feast, Oliver pulled Poppy aside as all the other first year students followed their Prefects into their new common rooms. He dragged her over to Professor McGonagall and demanded she put Poppy in Gryffindor. McGonagall did not look too pleased, if her pursed lips and crossed arms were any indication of her feelings. Oliver and Poppy followed her into an empty classroom where Professor Snape soon joined them.

"My sister is not a bloody Slytherin!" Oliver said. It was clear he was going to make a speech, he had a habit of doing so. Poppy hoped he wouldn't completely humiliate her, not in front of her new Head of House. During the feast, Poppy had had a lot of time to process The Sorting Hats decision and she had almost come to terms with it, though she didn't agree with everything the hat had said. Slytherin did have a great quidditch team, Oliver had ranted about them so much. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"The Sorting Hat made its decision, Mr. Wood," McGonagall cut Oliver off before he even got started. "And may I remind you, you are the one insisting we go against its decision and not Poppy herself."

"Well, she's just a child," Oliver said.

"Not a child, Ollie, just a first year Slytherin," Poppy answered, annoyed. She didn't necessarily want to be in Slytherin but it couldn't be the worst thing in the world, at least she'd get some time off from her overprotective brother. He was only three years older than her and sometimes Poppy felt Oliver should try relaxing once in a while. The world wouldn't stop spinning if he let go. She'd never tell him, though, not after everything he'd done for her.

"Slytherin is a house with the some of the finest students in Hogwarts," Professor Snape said to Oliver, who didn't look too pleased. "Your sister is clearly ambitious, goal-oriented, determined and resourceful. All of which are traits that apply to you, too, Mr. Wood. End of discussion."

And that was it. Professor McGonagall sent Oliver to his common room and Professor Snape escorted Poppy to hers. The dungeons were cold and sent shivers down Poppy's spine. The extra blanket in her luggage would come in handy. Entering the common room, Poppy looked around her, there were skulls and snakes everywhere along with green and silver. The green leather armchairs didn't look too comfortable but they did fit the whole dark and mysterious scene. Poppy didn't see any first years around, it was already quite late, but a few older students were still lounging by the fireplace. The feast had gone on for a few hours, most students were probably sleeping or catching up with their friends down in the dormitories. Some of the students were eyeing Poppy and whispering. She walked towards her dormitory, when someone spoke up.

"So, how's it feel being stuck down here with us monsters instead of the all-mighty lions up in the tower?" A muscular, tan boy with black hair asked. He was sitting in one of the leather armchairs. Some of his teeth were crooked and he had a black eye. He definitely looked a bit worse for wear.

"Oh, it's fine. I've seen worse under my bed," Poppy replied. The boy chuckled a little.
"You're Wood's sister, then?" he asked.
"Yes. I suppose you're Marcus Flint?" Poppy said, realising who the boy was. Oliver had spoken of him.
"I am. So, he talks about me? All scared and shivering, right?" Flint asked with a grin.
"Not really, I think he's mentioned you once. It was in a letter I got, right after Gryffindor beat Slytherin last year. He wrote that you were quite upset and there was something about breaking a chair? You just seemed the type," Poppy answered. Of course Oliver had talked about Flint. They were both favorite to be the next captain of their respective quidditch teams and there was quite a fierce rivalry between them.
"You're funny," Flint said dryly. "Run along now and go to bed, before the monsters get you."

Arriving in her dormitory, Poppy saw the other girls had already changed into their pyjamas and were happily chatting away, one bed to another. She didn't bother introducing herself, they probably all knew who she was and, judging by the looks on their faces, didn't care to know more. Poppy brushed her teeth, changed and went to bed. Tomorrow would be a whole new day, maybe she'd actually have a conversation with someone other than Marcus Flint. Seven years is a long time, Poppy thought, and it feels even longer if nobody likes you.

Chapter Text

September 1st, 1993

"Are you absolutely certain you have everything?" Oliver asked his sister, for about the hundreth time, as they were about to get on the Hogwarts Express.

"Ollie, we have five minutes until the train leaves. If I've forgotten something, there's really nothing we can do, is there?" Poppy answered with a sigh. Not only was her older brother being helpful, protective and brotherly, he was also aggravating. She'd been fully packed for a week now and throughout the whole week, everyday, without fail, at least ten times a day, Oliver would ask Poppy to check everything was packed.

"I think I'll just go find Grace, okay?" Poppy asked as they were searching the train for familiar faces and a place to sit.

"Are you completely sure you'll be alright?" Oliver yelled after her and she just turned around and rolled her eyes.

Grace was Poppy's only friend at Hogwarts. They had met by the lake during Poppy's second week at Hogwarts. She was a nearly a year older than Poppy and a Hufflepuff. She had dark brown, short and curly hair that framed her heart-shaped face. Her lightly freckled complexion suited her round blue eyes and her tiny, upturned button nose and small features made Poppy jealous occasionally as she felt her own, straight nose and square jaw looked humongous in comparison.

Poppy had long, blond hair, that she usually just kept down but occasionally tied up just to keep out of the way. Grace had said the color was a light strawberry blond, whatever that meant. She was always bugging Poppy to do something else with her hair and shoving makeup in her face. Poppy had dark green, almond-shaped eyes and just by looking at the two of them, most people never guessed her and Oliver were siblings. Oliver was tall and burly, Poppy was short and slender. He had dark, chocolate brown eyes and short medium brown hair and was always tan from being outside so much where as Poppy could spend all day in the sun and still stay the same milky color.

From the first time Poppy met Grace, it was obvious Grace really liked boys. Poppy had been doing her potions essay under a big tree by the lake at school, when she heard giggling from behind the tree. Poppy was sure it was some of the girls from her dormitory as they had not exactly warmed up to her, so she got up to go check and maybe give them a piece of her mind. But instead, she found Grace and a brown-haired Hufflepuff boy, smooching. Poppy was so taken aback by this that while trying to exit the scene undetected, she tripped over a root and fell to the ground. This startled the boy, who quickly hurried away, leaving Grace there laughing her eyes off. Grace helped Poppy up and explained that she had just been giving the boy the memory of a great first kiss, which Poppy had effectively ruined.

"He'll get over it," Grace said. "When I had my first kiss last year, my dad caught us and accidentally set the curtains on fire. And I'm fine now."

Meeting Grace had surely been an experience and it seemed as if every year she got even wilder. Poppy had never even been kissed, unless you count when Adrian Pucey tried kissing her last year, causing Poppy to swerve and have his lips hit her forehead. She definitely didn't count that. Grace on the other hand had been on a number of dates and had boyfriends, plural.

Poppy ran into Grace halfway through the train and they found an empty compartment near the back of the train.

"So, you must tell me everything!" Grace exclaimed, her eyes glistening. Poppy knew Grace really wanted to talk about herself whenever she seemed overly fascinated with Poppy's life.

"You know, same old, same old," Poppy said. "Oliver got a job at the quidditch shop in Diagon Alley and I waited tables at the Leaky Cauldron to help pay for our room."

Poppy and Oliver's father had left when she was just four years old and since then they had been living with their mother. Oliver turned seventeen last November and they had moved out as soon as school let out, to the Leaky Cauldron. Their mother wasn't the best mother, Poppy always thought, and sometimes it seemed as if she wasn't even trying. It was as if she wasn't always present in this reality. The first few years without their father weren't bad, they were actually a normal family, but when Poppy was six, something changed. Their mother used to disappear for days, nobody knew where she went. Oliver practically raised Poppy, and he knew by the time Poppy was eight, she'd have to be able to take care of herself while he was at Hogwarts. Sometimes Poppy wished her mother would stop coming back every time and just leave for good. Poppy used to hide in her closet to read and write, even while her mother was home. Sometimes she'd forget Poppy even existed.

"It was a boring summer, trust me," Poppy said and asked, "What about yours?"

She knew Grace would probably spend the rest of the journey talking about her summer, stopping only to buy and eat every sweet off the trolley, and all Poppy had to do was listen. Apparently, Grace had met a cute muggle boy and went on a few dates with him. She had also met his friend, who was even cuter, and went out with him, too. The boys didn't know about each other at first, and when they found out there was a huge fight.

"And I mean huge!" Grace exclaimed. "I may have made things even worse when I pretended not to know who I met first, but it was just too funny! In the end neither of them wanted to see me again but it's fine, not like I'm ever going back there anyway."

Grace's family were muggles and they always spent their summer somewhere different. This year they summered in Blackpool.

The train ride took longer than usual, midway through dementors stopped the train to look for some murderous lunatic. While they passed the girls' train compartment, Poppy felt as if someone had taken her good memories and replaced it with all that had ever gone wrong in her life and multiplied it by a million. Grace was relatively unaffected. After they were gone, in an effort to cheer Poppy up, Grace performed a curling spell on Poppy's hair. It created beautiful big curls that fell onto Poppy's shoulders.

Finally, the train arrived at Hogsmeade. Poppy and Grace were among the last to leave the train, since Grace wanted to freshen her makeup one last time before stepping out. She also insisted on putting lipgloss on Poppy.

"This is such a great shade, don't you think? It's even called 'Magical', how fitting is that?" Grace laughed.
"It's sticky," Poppy complained.
"Oh, shut up. Your lips are so full they were made for lipgloss. Or for snogging but I don't see that happening anytime soon. My point is, it looks perfect! Do you want mascara? Your lashes are so long you don't really need it but..."

Poppy opted out of mascara, amazed at Grace's ability to combine compliments and slight insults in the same sentence. She chuckled. Sometimes she felt jealous of Grace's looks, the fact she was taller than Poppy or her long legs but Grace was always quick to turn the conversation around, praising Poppy for her best qualities. Whenever Poppy got insecure about herself, Grace was there to make her forget it.

The girls got on the last carriage that would take them to the castle. It was about to take off when they heard a boys voice: "Wait! Don't leave yet!" The carriage jolted and Grace fell on Poppy's lap. Two boys climbed on. Poppy couldn't immediately see them because Grace was still scrambling her way off the floor and out of Poppy's lap. When she finally saw who their new companions were, she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Marcus Flint?" Poppy gasped. They boy sitting next to Marcus was Adrian Pucey. He smiled wide upon recognising Poppy. Poppy flashed a faint smile in his direction, she didn't fancy Adrian the way he did her, but he was one of the better Slytherins. Or used to be, who knew what effect Flint had had on him.

"Do I know you?" Flint asked with a puzzled look.
"Well, I am in your house," Poppy said slightly annoyed.
"Oh," Flint replied. "What's your name, then?"
"It's Poppy! You know Poppy, Wood's sister, right?" Adrian said before Poppy had a chance to open her mouth.
"Right, didn't recognise you," Flint said, turning away from Poppy and began talking quidditch with Adrian.

Arriving at the castle, they all exited the carriage. Grace held Poppy back a little bit so the boys wouldn't hear their conversation.

"He doesn't know who you are?" Grace asked in shock. "I mean, you're a bit more womanly now, sure, but you're not that different."
"Apparently. But whenever he's spoken to me before, I've been with Oliver, maybe he just needs some context to remember people. It is Flint, after all," Poppy ranted. She was a bit mad, who wouldn't be? This boy had known her for three years and then he just forgets? They never talked much, only when Oliver was around Flint would shout out obscenities and that mostly happened before a quidditch match, but still, he forgot?
"What's he even doing here, didn't he graduate last year?" Grace pondered.
"Guess not."

After the sorting of new students and the feast, Poppy entered the Slytherin common room and was amazed when it was nearly empty. Flint was sitting on one of the green leather chairs. Everybody else was probably down in their own dormitories, catching up and telling each other about their summers or plotting evil plans, as Slytherins do. The train ride had been exhaustingly long and Poppy was heading for bed when Flint spoke.

"It's the hair," he said.
"What?" Poppy replied, maybe a bit too snappily. She was still mad.
"I mean, it's different, it's why I didn't recognise you," Flint explained. "It looks nice."
"What?" Poppy said surprised. A compliment, from Flint? "I mean, what are you doing back here?"
"There was a problem of sorts," he replied vaguely.
"Right. I'm going to bed," Poppy said. No reply.

She lay awake in bed for awhile, not being able to sleep. Was Marcus Flint going soft? They'd actually had an almost decent conversation with no name-calling or rude remarks. She thought maybe she had been too quick to snap at him. Maybe this new side of him would help her in the upcoming quidditch tryouts. She'd never tried out before, in fear of Flint and having listened to Oliver's stories about him for a few years. Flint and Oliver both became captain two years ago and Oliver told Poppy not to try out until Flint was gone. Except, he was supposed to be gone this year. This was supposed go be Poppy's year and she wasn't going to let anybody stand in her way, least of all Marcus Flint.

Chapter Text

Poppy was soaring through the air, catching every single quaffle thrown her way. She could feel the wind in her hair and see a lot of tiny people on the ground. The tiny people were watching her and judging her every move. Poppy grinned to herself, she had done great, it was practically flawless. She flew to ground level, got off her broom and smiled cheekily. Marcus was looking at her with amazement which turned into a sneer. Poppy had gotten used to this look and hadn't been expecting a warmer welcome, even if he'd been acting more a human being and less a monster lately.

"So?" Poppy asked, wiping sweat from her forehead. "What'd you think?"

"To be completely honest, and it hurts me to say this, you were good. I'm not gonna put you on the team, though," Flint answered and turned around to face his team members. Poppy tapped him on his broad shoulder and he turned back again.

"What? Why not?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

"No girls on the Slytherin team," Flint said simply. Now Poppy was truly annoyed.

"So that's just your own rule, then?"

"Slytherins have always preferred that girls cheer in the stands and have fun at the afterparties", Flint said and was about to turn around again.

"There hasn't been much partying after Potter came along," Poppy remarked.

"Is there anything else or can I go on with my life now? No girls on the team, end of discussion," Flint said. He was clearly cross with Poppy.

"Put me on the team," she demanded.

"Why should I go against tradition?"

"Because I'm a better keeper than whoever that guy over there is. Hell, I'd probably be better at any position than the team you have now. Which isn't much of an accomplishment, since you apparently choose your players based on size and not skills!" Poppy ranted. Flint's smug look was fading a little.

"Insulting my team isn't going to get you very far, little girl," Flint said raising his raspy voice a little. He didn't scare Poppy, even if he was the biggest and baddest Slytherin. All the first years always described him as that and told warning tales of what he'd done to those who got too close. Poppy was sure most of those stories were false but Flint certainly enjoyed making them seem true and it was easy to see why he was feared. He was tall, taller than Oliver, and wide, more muscular than chasers usually. Physically, he would have been better suited as a beater. His rough playing tactics were widely known, and Oliver had told Poppy whenever he had to shake Flint's hand, he'd end up with nearly crushed fingers.

"Look, I get that you have to act tough in front of them," Poppy said lowering her voice a little, nodding in the team's direction. "But just put me on the team and maybe you'll win for a change."

Flint laughed. It wasn't a friendly laugh, no, it was definitely a laugh that was meant to mock and belittle.

"You think we're friends now? Because I said I liked your hair? That doesn't make us friends, you don't get to talk to me in that way. You're just another pretty thing to look at," Flint said loudly, with his signature sneer.

"No, we're definitely not friends. But you are going to put me on this team, I'm sure of it," Poppy said. She tried remaining firm but was certain her voice was shaking. "Once you realise your keeper can't even catch his own thoughts, you'll come looking for me."

She turned on her heels and headed for the edge of the pitch. Grace was waiting, she'd come to see Poppy try out.

"How was that?" Poppy asked nervously.
"Very good, very firm," Grace replied with a smile. "And your playing was just top notch!"

The girls headed back to the castle so Poppy could shower and change before they headed out to the lake to study. On their way, they ran into Oliver. He spotted them, Poppy's broom and her sweaty clothes and headed towards them in a decisive manner.

"You're in trouble now," Grace whispered.

"Poppy! What've you been doing? I thought you spend Saturdays studying?" Oliver quizzed. Poppy thought maybe she should tell a little lie but decided not to. She always thought lies should be saved for bigger things, then people will believe them.
"I tried out for quidditch," she replied. Oliver's brows furrowed. "And I know what you're going to say so don't."

"Oh, you're not getting out of this that easily. What were you thinking? Flint is still here, he's a vile captain and a poor example of a human being!" Oliver ranted.

"I don't care who's captain. I just want to play," Poppy tried to reason. "I didn't even make the team... Yet."

"What do you mean you didn't make it? You're almost as good as me!" Oliver shouted. "Wait, you're trying to change the subject! I don't want you on that team, a few months, no-- make that a few minutes playing with Flint and you'll come running to me in tears."

"Oliver, shut up. I'll get on the team and there's nothing you can do about it. Now, I'm going to go shower and then we're off to study. I will see you later," Poppy said and walked away. Grace waved faintly at Oliver, who smiled weakly before waving back.

"So why do you want to play?" Grace questioned.

"What do you mean? I love quidditch," Poppy said.

"You do, I know. And you've been wanting to play ever since you got to Hogwarts but you always said you'd wait until Flint's gone."

"Yeah, I know. But-"

"You fancy him!" Grace interrupted.

"I do not!" Poppy yelled. "I mean... That's absurd!"

"It's obvious," Grace said. "He forgets your name and suddenly you're all 'Ooh, let me on your team, let's play quidditch together and snog.'"

"That doesn't make any sense," Poppy said with a puzzled look.

"Of course it does, you got so mad when he didn't remember you and now you want to prove you're unforgettable. Everybody loves a bad boy and that's how they get you," Grace said.

"You're way off with this, I have no interest in him," Poppy said firmly.

"Why not wait until next year, he can't still be here then," Grace quizzed.

"Because this was supposed to be the year I got on the team!" Poppy snapped. Grace looked genuinely confused. "I have a plan and I won't let anyone stand in my way. I want on that team.

Chapter Text

Two weeks after the Quidditch tryouts, Poppy was completely fine. That's what she said whenever someone asked and slowly she was actually beginning to believe it. She hadn't actually considered the possibility of not getting on the team but a few hours after the tryouts that thought had sunk into her head and never left.

"Are you alright?" Grace would ask several times a day.

"I'm fine," Poppy would answer with a smile.

Never mind the fact Poppy would spend their study sessions by staring into nothing and replaying the events of the tryouts in her head. What if she'd been faster, or maybe nicer to Flint? No matter what she did differently, the scenarios in her head always ended the same way; with Flint telling her she'd never be on the team.

It was a beautiful, bright Thursday afternoon and Poppy was waiting for her Herbology class to begin. Grace had some free time and wanted to wait with Poppy, try to cheer her up.

"Hogsmeade visit is coming up," Grace said. "We can go to Honeydukes."

"Great, maybe I should buy and eat twice my weight in chocolate., since I don't need to be in shape for anything," Poppy remarked but quickly added, "Kidding! I'm fine."

"Mhm," Grace mumbled. "Professor Sprout's coming, I should go."

Grace left while Poppy and her classmates poured into the greenhouse. Poppy loved Herbology but even that couldn't cheer her up. They were working with bouncing bulbs and Poppy didn't even feel up to answering the professor's questions about the plant. She knew most of the answers but was too busy trying to not think about Flint. Her thoughts of trying not to think were interrupted by somebody entering the greenhouse. Poppy assumed it would be Cho Chang from Ravenclaw as she was always late, but Cho was standing right next to her, trying to get her bulb to stop bouncing out of its pot. Poppy, along with other students, turned her head towards the door.

"Ah, Mr. Flint, what can I do for you today?" Professor Sprout asked with a warm, welcoming tone. "Perhaps you want to borrow another one of my books?"

"Not today, professor, thank you," Flint answered and searched the greenhouse with his grey eyes when he finally spotted Poppy. "I would like to borrow Miss Wood for a few minutes, though. Professor Snape needs to see her. He said it's urgent."

Poppy couldn't think of any reason why Snape would need to see her but she couldn't exactly say no even if Flint was the last person she wanted to see. Professor Sprout told her to come straight back and Poppy could hear all the other students whispering about her as she left.

"I heard she was caught in a broom closet with some boy," Cho Chang whispered.

"No, I think that was her friend," a girl standing next to Cho responded. "I wouldn't be too surprised, though."

Poppy followed Flint around the yard for a while when he suddenly stopped.

"What now?" Poppy asked, annoyed.

"Snape doesn't need to see you," he responded and looked taken aback by her. "I do."

"Oh, great. Did you interrupt my class just to make some mean remark?" Poppy said and looked at Flint. It would be so typical of him to do something like this. "Because that would be low, even for you."

"Actually, no," Flint responded. "I came to tell you I reconsidered my decision and decided to put you on the team. I'm starting to regret my that, though."

"Real nice, Flint, truly lovely. This is a definitely a new low point for you but guess what, I'm not buying it."

"It's not a joke."

He looked dead serious.

"So, if I go and ask anybody on the Slytherin team, they'll know their keeper has been replaced by me?"

"Well, no. I figured I'd ask you first. They'll probably know by supper, though."

Poppy was dumbfounded and at a loss for words.

"I'm warning you, they won't like you. Hell, I don't like you. I'll make you work hard to keep the spot you rightfully earned. I want to win, that's why I picked you," Flint said firmly. "So, are you in?"

"Uh, yeah," Poppy answered, still not able to even process what was happening.

"Good. And don't come crying to me when the other players are mean to you or when you think practice five times a week is too much."

And with that, he left. Poppy returned to Herbology with so many questions in her head. Mostly she was wondering why Flint would borrow books from Professor Sprout.

Chapter Text

It had certainly been an interesting few days since Poppy was accepted into the Slytherin team. Flint had told the other players some time between his and Poppy's conversation and supper, just as he had said, and apparently word around Hogwarts spread quickly. When Poppy entered the Great Hall that gloomy Thursday night and made her way towards the Slytherin table, it was as if the dementors guarding Hogwarts were no more than a foot away. The reception was downright icy. Adrian Pucey was excited, naturally, and sat next to Poppy. She was glad someone was happy for her but had always felt she should try to let Adrian know she didn't like him in that way. It was just easier said than done.

They had gotten to know each other a year ago. Adrian had helped Poppy get a book from the highest shelf in the library and they had started chatting the day away. Poppy had felt as if she'd finally made a Slytherin friend until a few weeks into the friendship, he tried to kiss her and it was a big fiasco. Neither of them wanted to really talk about it so they avoided each other for a while and eventully settled on being casual acquaintances. They'd say hi to each other and act polite but Poppy knew Adrian still fancied her. She just didn't feel the same way. He was nice and he wasn't bad looking with his short, light brown hair and hazel eyes. He was tall and slender not as muscular as many other boys who played Quidditch but that didn't matter to Poppy. She had just kind of figured that if her first instinct was to quickly swerve away when he leaned in for a kiss, maybe he wasn't what she wanted. There was no spark.

So, Adrian was happy she was on the team. The rest were not. They weren't exactly vocal about the issue, but there was a lot of glaring and dirty looks. Until Friday morning. Students were waking up and heading for breakfast. The Slytherin common room was in a frenzy, just as any other morning. Poppy was just doing some finishing touches onto an essay, when Draco Malfoy walked out of his dormitory with his friends, not noticing Poppy on the couch.

"I can't believe that goody-goody is on the team, this whole place is going to the dogs," he said loudly and his friends snickered. "Makes you wonder how she got on in the first place. I guess a pretty face will get you anywhere."

"What did you say?" Poppy asked, jumping off the couch immediately. "You really want to talk about how someone gets on the team?"

"No, I don't believe I need to talk to you at all," Malfoy sneered and his loyal
followers patted him on the back. "Way to go, Draco," the taller one muttered.

"At least I have skills, all you have is your fathers money," Poppy said as calmly as she could muster. Students around them were listening intently, stopping whatever they had been previously doing.

"Skills? I suppose you have certain skills but that has nothing to do with Quidditch," Malfoy said pompously and smirked. She didn't like what he was suggesting. His friends laughed loudly and some of the other students joined in. Poppy was about to punch Malfoys smug face when their argument was interrupted.

"Malfoy! Back off and take your lackeys with you!" Flint's deep, raspy voice bellowed over the common room. He was standing in the stairwell leading down to the boys dormitories. "And Wood, I suggest you do the same."

"You can try to treat her as if she's just another player but we all know the truth," Malfoy mumbled under his breath. He was glaring at Poppy as he turned around and ushered his friends towards the door.

"What did you say, you little git?" Flint asked, grinding his teeth. He walked towards Malfoy and even though he was just wearing pyjama bottoms, he still managed to look intimidating. It helped that he was twice Malfoy's size.

"You heard me," Malfoy responded. He was trying to sound confident but he looked to be shrinking as Flint got closer. His voice turned weak. "I don't approve of this."

"I don't care what you think," Flint said. Malfoy scoffed and left with his friends tagging along.

"I had to get out of bed for this," Flint mumbled as he headed back to his dormitory without a word to Poppy.

After breakfast, Poppy had classes in Potions and History of Magic. She wasn't fond of either subject and was thrilled when lunch time rolled around. She didn't see Flint at lunch and he hadn't shown up for breakfast, either. Poppy ate her lunch as swiftly as she could and headed to the common room to finish the Herbology essay she had meant to do before breakfast but Malfoy had effectively ruined that plan.

Poppy entered the empty common room, got her essay out and started working. She hated doing schoolwork in her dormitory or the Slytherin common room but it was too windy to go outside and the library was so far from the greenhouses that it would've taken ages to get to class from there. She finished her essay in the nick of time and was just about to leave when Flint came up the stairs, still in his pyjamas.

"Oh, it's you. I woke up to someone rumbling around here," he said.

"Sorry. Didn't you go to class today?" Poppy asked, puzzled as to why he was
still sleeping.

"Nah, didn't feel like it," Flint answered.

Poppy nodded, trying to show she understood, though she didn't. Skipping class was something she had never done. There was an awkward silence between them.

"Uh, I'm sorry about Malfoy. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," Flint finally said.

"I can take care of myself," Poppy scoffed. "You told me not to come to you if other players are mean, and I haven't. So don't come to me to say you're sorry. You made it clear we're not friends."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't do anything stupid," Flint explained, scratching his head sluggishly. "You were about to punch him."

"What? No, I wasn't. What?" Poppy was taken aback by the fact her intentions had apparently been so clear to him. "And so what?"

"You heard how that hippogriff that supposedly attacked Malfoy is going to have a hearing and most likely end up with its head on the wall of the Malfoy manor?" Flint said. Poppy nodded, so he continued, "What do you think would happen to you?"

"He can't have me put down like an animal," Poppy argued. Flint smiled slightly.

"No, but he can get you expelled for a while if he wants to," he said. "So, maybe try to just tolerate him?"

"You're being awfully nice," Poppy remarked. "It's refreshing."

"Good mood, I suppose. I didn't suffer through classes and we start practice next week. Do you think they're still serving lunch?" Flint asked.

"I guess. Were you going to show up in those?" Poppy answered, eyeing his pyjama bottoms.

"Maybe," Marcus said, smiling a little. Poppy looked at the clock on the wall and realised she was running a bit late.

"I have to go," she said abruptly. "To class."

Flint didn't even have a chance to respond when she was out the door already. She was getting tired of Flint's ever-changing mood, one second he was the angry monster he was known as, and the next he was almost a normal human being. Poppy's life would've been much simpler if he could have just decided to either hate her or not.

Chapter Text

The very next day was a beautiful yet rainy Saturday that began exactly as any other. Poppy noticed the girls in her dormitory staring at her a little more than usual but they didn't say anything. They sometimes made fun of Poppy's clothes or mocked the way her hair looked but most of the time they would just laugh at her behind her back. This morning was no exception as they glared at Poppy, sharing glances between each other and trying to stifle their laughter.

The girls in her dorm, Becky, Victoria and Mary, were all purebloods (and proud of it) and were all related to one another by some distant cousin or something. Poppy didn't usually mind them and just let everything slide. They hated being ignored. Usually they left her alone but a few times a month, they would start up about her clothes, hair or anything, really, just to get a reaction from Poppy. She didn't want to give them the satisfaction.

As Poppy made her way towards The Great Hall for breakfast, she noticed a lot of students whispering and pointing at her, some of them laughing. And it wasn't just Slytherins, all the houses seemed to be in on the joke.

The Great Hall was already packed with students and they were making a lot of noise. Poppy noticed many of them looking at her. Before sitting down, she noticed Grace across the hall, waving her over. Poppy headed for the Hufflepuff table, where she saw many friendly faces, though a lot of them looked worried for some reason. Grace got up and hurried Poppy to the side. She didn't look quite her happy self today.

"There's a rumor. About you," Grace stated.

"That explains it, everyone's been looking at me funny all morning," Poppy said. It wasn't anything new, there had been rumors about her before and it was always something stupid and quickly forgotten, so she wasn't worried. Students would soon move on to something and someone else.

"It's sort of a serious one this time," Grace said rather morbidly. Usually the two of them would laugh at whatever was being said about them.

"Well, what is it?" Poppy asked, impatient.

"Poppy, people are saying you had sex with Flint for a spot on the team. And that you're still doing it," Grace responded.

"WHAT?" Poppy exclaimed, it was the only thing she could think of to say in the situation. It seemed ridiculous, who would believe that? She had never even been kissed and suddenly everyone believed she was having sex! "That's... Ridiculous."

"Yep, I know," Grace said. "I already told everybody in Hufflepuff it's not true and if anyone spreads this rumor, they'll have me to answer to."

"Who told you?" Poppy asked. She wanted to know who had started it. She suspected the girls in her dormitory might have been behind it.

"Uh, I overheard some Ravenclaws talking about it earlier. They said they heard from Roger Davies who heard it from someone on his team who heard it from his Slytherin girlfriend who heard it from..." Grace hesitated.

"Who? Was it Victoria?" Poppy asked when a horrible thought popped in her head. "Oh, Grace, don't tell me it was Flint himself!"

"No, no, course not. It was Draco Malfoy," Grace said and quickly added, "but don't go punch him or anything, you'll get in trouble."

"Why does everyone think I'll punch Malfoy?" Poppy questioned.

"Everyone?" Grace asked, confused.

"Never mind, I have to go eat something before I can even process this information," Poppy said and headed for her table.

Students were whispering when she arrived and sat down. Draco Malfoy looked even more smug than usual and her roommates looked both disgusted and overwhelmingly happy. Everybody fell quiet, turning their heads towards the door. Quietly they began whispering again. Poppy's eyes were fixated on the plate in front of her, she was wondering if a chocolate muffin would be a good breakfast. Suddenly someone was standing next to her.

"Is this seat taken?" Flint asked. Poppy lifted her head and saw he was smiling. She looked across the table and saw everyone staring but Flint didn't seem to notice.

"I'll take that silence as a yes," Flint said and sat down next to her.

"Um, yeah, it's fine," Poppy muttered.

"How's the happy couple doing this fine morning?" Becky asked from across the table, flicking her long black hair.

"What?" Flint asked, completely confused. "What the hell are you talking about? And who are you?"

Neither Becky nor Poppy had a chance to provide Flint with answers as somebody swooped in and in a flash Flint was on the floor. After the initial shock of Flint disappearing, Poppy noticed he was now pinned down on the floor under Oliver, who was punching Flint's face to a bloody pulp.

"How dare you do that to my sister?" Oliver shouted.

"Ollie!" Poppy screamed. "Get off him!"

But it didn't help. Other students had rushed to see what was happening and some Gryffindors were cheering Oliver on. Cedric Diggory emerged from the crowd to try to pull the two apart but was pushed back by Oliver. Suddenly Oliver was floating in mid-air and everyone saw the teachers had finally arrived. The whole fight couldn't have lasted more than a minute. Flint was lying on the floor, it didn't seem as though he had fought back much as Oliver was practically undamaged.

Dumbledore lowered his hand quickly and Oliver dropped to the floor with a thud. Dumbledore whispered something to professors McGonagall and Snape. McGonagall asked Oliver to come with her as Snape helped Flint off the floor.

"Ms. Wood," Snape said, turning to Poppy. "I think we might also need you."

They exited the Great Hall and Dumbledore quickly followed. Oliver, Poppy and Flint followed the professors to the nearest classroom where they were told to sit down. Flint's left eye was barely open as it had swollen so much and his lips were bloody. He hadn't said a word yet and neither had Oliver.

Dumbledore sat behind the professor's desk. He looked disappointed more than anything, Dumbledore was rarely angry. McGonagall's lips were tightly pursed together and Snape's face was red, as if he was trying hard not to yell from the top of his lungs.

"So," Dumbledore spoke. "What happened? Mr. Wood?"

"Ask Flint," Oliver snapped.

"Well, Mr. Flint, can you tell me what happened?" Dumbledore asked and turned to face Flint.

"Honestly, I have no idea," Flint answered and proceeded to wipe some of the blood on his sleeve. "I was just sitting there, trying to enjoy my breakfast when he attacked me."

"Liar", Oliver muttered. "I know what you've done."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Flint asked, puzzled. He spit out a broken tooth. Snape glared at Oliver.

"Ms. Wood, do you know what happened since these two idiots clearly don't?" Snape asked Poppy. She looked down at her feet.

"There's this rumor," Poppy said' fiddling with her thumbs. She was embarrassed to have to talk to her professors about this. "That I got on the Quidditch team because I... Um, how should I put this? Because I, uh, shared my bed with Flint."

McGonagall gasped, Snape's eye twitched and Flint looked as shocked as he possibly could with his swollen and bloody face. It seemed clear he had never heard this before.

"Which I didn't," Poppy added quickly. "And the rumor got around and I guess somebody told Oliver and he decided to beat up Flint."

"Is this true, Mr. Wood?" McGonagall asked.

"Actually, the version I heard was a bit different and I think it might be true," Oliver said. "I was told Flint was going around saying Poppy had... Done that with him... And that she still does it and that's why he keeps her on the team. Obviously I don't think Poppy would ever do it but Flint is the kind of person to say she had."

"No!" Flint shouted and got up from his chair so fast the chair fell down. "Absolutely not, never!"

Oliver also got up and was walking towards Flint when Flint grabbed Oliver's collar and ran him to the wall.

"I don't care if you think I'm a troll or laugh at me behind my back," Flint said through his teeth. "I'm not trying to be your friend but I'm not trying to be your mortal enemy either, I try and save that for the pitch. Spreading rumors about your little sister would be a great way to get myself killed and I'm not quite so dumb."

Snape pulled Flint away and made them both sit down. Poppy explained that from what she'd heard, it had apparently been Draco Malfoy's rumor. Oliver was given two weeks of detention and Flint was given one. McGonagall told Flint to go to the hospital wing and decided it would be best if Oliver went later that day if he needed to. Oliver headed towards the Gryffindor common room but since the hospital wing was in the same direction as the Slytherin common room, Poppy and Flint had to walk down the same hall.

"I'm really sorry," Poppy said. "About Oliver. He's a bit overprotective."

"It's fine," Flint mumbled.

They arrived at the staircase leading to the dungeons.

"I guess this is where we part ways," Flint said.

"I can come with you, if you want," Poppy offered.

"It's fine, you don't have to," Flint said.

And he left. Poppy quietly muttered goodbye and headed down the staircase. It had certainly been an eventful morning so far.

Arriving in her dormitory, she found Mary, Victoria and Becky all sitting on Mary's bed, as if they'd been waiting for her.

"How did it go? Did the professors believe you're still an innocent teacher's pet?" Becky asked with a snarky tone.

"Shut up, Becky," Poppy snapped.

"So it's true! Because we weren't quite sure but I told people, look who we're talking about, of course it's true," Victoria said.

"Since you surely won't take my word for it, you can just go ask Flint and he'll tell you the truth," Poppy said with a sigh.

"You think he would stand up for you? These kinds of rumors, true or not, only make him look better," Mary said.

"Oh, I guess you're right," Poppy said with a fake frown. Mary scoffed.

Poppy gathered some books, got her bag and headed to the library to study. She thought it might be the only place where nobody would talk to her and even if they talked about her, it was the library and they'd have to be quiet. Poppy was sure Oliver had told all the Gryffindors the rumor wasn't true but the rest of the school probably still thought they were and Poppy wasn't counting on the Gryffindors even believing Oliver. She even got dirty looks from a few Hufflepuffs as she entered the library.

Poppy sighed and got to work. She tried to block all the stares and whispers by delving into her Defense Against the Dark Arts course work. By midday, as Poppy snapped out of her study trance, it seemed as if people were still talking about her and Flint. Clearly this wasn't one of those rumors that are quickly forgotten.

Deciding she needed a break from everything, Poppy made her way back to the Slytherin common room, where she found Flint sitting by himself. He was reading a book. Poppy recognized it as the seventh year Herbology book, as she had browsed through Oliver's copy of it out of sheer interest before the beginning of the school year. Poppy sat down on the couch opposite the one Flint was sitting on.

"That's a good book," Poppy said and Flint looked up, clearly surprised to see her there, as if he had not heard her come in.

"It's alright, I guess," Flint answered.

"Do you like Herbology?" Poppy asked, trying to stir up conversation. She remembered how professor Sprout had asked Flint about borrowing her books.

"It's alright," Flint said.

They sat in silence for awhile with Flint reading his book and Poppy desperately trying to think of something to say.

"I've noticed people are still talking about us," Poppy finally said.

"Alright," Flint answered without even looking up from his book.

Silence again. Flint had been rather nice to her the past few days, Poppy couldn't understand what was going on.

"Are you mad at me or something?" Poppy asked.

"Why would I be?" Flint asked, now slightly raising an eye.

"You're kind of acting as if you're mad at me," Poppy remarked. Flint looked up and looked at Poppy with his usual stern expression that made first year students cry.

"I'm not mad at you but I'm still not your friend either," Flint said. "We have practice tomorrow, don't be late."

"No, that's not enough," Poppy argued. "You were all smiles and happiness this morning, what changed?"

"Perhaps the fact that the exact instant I was nice to you, this happened," Flint answered, motioning to his face. "Also, I was accused of many things I wouldn't want anybody to think true. So, you can probably understand why I'm not jumping up at the chance to be your friend. So far you've been nothing but trouble."

Poppy was stunned. Flint got up and walked to his dormitory.

"Practice, tomorrow. If you're late, you're out," he said on his way out.

Poppy wasn't too excited for practice. She was sure one of her lovely team mates was going to kill, or at least seriously injure her. Tomorrow was going to be a great day.

Chapter Text

Poppy was laying in bed at the hospital wing. She was starting to think joining the Quidditch team was a bad idea. The thought occurred to her right as her teams beater swung a bludger towards her head. She was able to swerve so it didn't hit her in the head but instead broke three bones in her ribcage. Madam Pomfrey told her she had passed out and fallen from her broom.

Oliver had been to see her with Grace. He had seemed overjoyed when Poppy told him she had blocked most of the quaffles during her first practice with the Slytherin team. Oliver didn't seem to care much about the fact that she was in pain, insisting Poppy tell him everything and describe the situation second by second. Madam Pomfrey finally told him to get out when he started running around the room, re-enacting some of his finest Quidditch moments.

Unfortunately Madam Pomfrey also kicked out Grace, so Poppy could get some rest. Grace had brought her some chocolate frogs and an issue of Teen Witches Weekly so she wouldn't be bored.

Flint, however, had not been to see her, which Poppy thought was very rude. He was her captain, after all.

"Don't you think it's a bit rude when somebody gets injured and the captain of the team just ignores that person and their injury?" Poppy asked Madam Pomfrey, huffing with anger.

"What? Oh, you mean Mr. Flint? I wouldn't say he ignored you, he did carry you here and waited for an hour to see if you would wake up," Madam Pomfrey answered. "Then he had to leave for detention, I think."

"Oh," Poppy answered, a little stunned.

Madam Pomfrey began folding bedsheets. Poppy picked up the magazine Gracie had brought and flipped through it. It featured some of the newest players drafted by different Quidditch teams and Poppy was immediately interested. She was, however, disappointed when the article only discussed things such as the players' favourite desserts and whether or not they had any pets. It didn't even feature any players from Poppy's favourite team, The Falmouth Falcons. Poppy felt herself getting sleepy so she closed her eyes and hoped for sweet dreams. The pain in her ribcage was almost gone and she hoped to get out of the hospital wing by tomorrow.

Poppy was wakened in the middle of the night by a loud ruckus. There were no other patients in the hospital wing and there was a prisoner loose from Azkaban, so out of instinct, Poppy stopped breathing and was as still as possible. Her heart was beating fast. As if she hadn't been through enough already, now she had to worry about a murderer possibly roaming the hospital wing? After the ruckus she heard a man swearing but couldn't see anyone as the room was pitch black dark. She silently grabbed her wand from under her pillow and gripped it tightly, pointing it at the darkness.

"Lumos," the man said and a flash of light erupted from the tip of his wand. Poppy, still pointing her wand, now saw Marcus Flint standing in front of her, looking confused. His eyes shifted from Poppy's wand to her eyes and then back to the wand. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I thought you were Sirius Black," she responded and put down her wand. He chuckled.

"Right. He after you, too, then?" he asked, jokingly. Poppy sat up on her bed and rolled her eyes at him. "I guess you're feeling better?"

"I'm alright," Poppy responded. "What are you doing here? Other than giving me nightmares?"

"I'm your captain, and it's my responsibility to make sure you're alright," Flint said, sitting down on the bed next to hers.

"Well I am, so you can just leave," Poppy said snarkily. "And you shouldn't be here, you could get another week of detention if someone catches you."

"Are you worried about me, Wood?" Flint smirked. Poppy ignored him, crossing her arms. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with his wand.

"You can't smoke in here!" Poppy gasped.

"As if I care," he said.

"I have a name, you know," she said, watching him blow smoke in the air. He raised an eyebrow. "You called me Wood. That's what you call Oliver. I prefer Poppy."

"You call me Flint, remember?" he replied.

"Everyone calls you Flint," Poppy said.

"That's because they're scared of me," Flint said. "But you're not."

"True, I don't find you particularly scary," Poppy said matter-of-factly. "I'll call you Marcus if you call me Poppy."

The scent and smoke of Marcus's cigarette lingered in the air. Poppy fiddled with her thumbs and was a little embarrassed by the teddy bear pyjamas Madam Pomfrey had given her to sleep in.

"So, between now and yesterday, what changed?" she asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Well, when I saw you falling off your broom and smash into the ground, I wanted to kill Derrick. I'm usually not a violent person," Marcus replied.

Poppy laughed and he smirked again.

"I realised you might need some protection to make it out of this team alive," he said.

"So, we're friends? Poppy asked.

"No, definitely not," Marcus answered. "I'll tolerate you for the sake of team spirit so they don't try to kill you."

"Alright," Poppy said, amused.

"Just don't expect me to be nice to you and we'll be just fine."

He got up and turned around to leave but then remembered something.

"Oh, yeah, I brought you this," he said and handed her a clothing item of some kind. "The pyjamas Madam Pomfrey has are not the most comfortable."

"Thanks," Poppy said.

Marcus left and Poppy changed her pyjama into the t-shirt Marcus had brought. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror by the moonlight and smiled when she noticed the print "Falmouth Falcons" on the shirt.

The next day, Poppy was sitting in the corner of the library with Grace, trying to be as quiet as possible. Grace was supposed to be working on her assignment for Defense Against the Dark Arts since it was already a week late but professor Lupin had given her an extension. Teachers had always had a soft spot for Grace because of her bright blue eyes and all the sweets she carried with her. Poppy was trying to help her friend concentrate on the assignment but Grace's mind kept wandering to other places.

"For the last time, we're just friends," Poppy said and looked at her friend with a serious face. "And we're really not even friends, we're... Tolerating each other."

"That makes no sense," Grace said.

"Grace, you're supposed to be working!" Poppy said.

"I just want you to understand that he brought you his shirt," Grace said.

"So?"

"It's his shirt! Boys don't hand those out to just anybody."

"I'm going to give it back."

"Bloody hell you are."

Poppy was about to argue her friend when she noticed her staring at something near the Potions section of the library. "What is it?"

"Your captain is over there," Grace said. Poppy turned her head and saw Marcus waving her over.

"I should probably go," Poppy said, got up and walked over to Marcus who pulled out a frazzled Derrick, their teams beater, from behind a bookshelf. He was a large boy, nearly as wide as he was tall, with sandy, coarse hair.

"Now, remember what we talked about?" Marcus asked him. Derrick was looking at Poppy smugly so Marcus punched him in the stomach.

"Flint!" Poppy screamed. Marcus raised an eyebrow.

"Please don't yell, Poppy, this is the library," he said and turned back to Derrick who was now whincing with pain. "Now do you remember?"

"Fine!" Derrick yelled and everyone at the library was now looking at their little scene. "What are you all staring at?"

"May I ask what is happening here?" Poppy questioned.

"He's apologizing, aren't you, Derrick?" Marcus said.

"I guess I'm sorry for accidentally hitting you with the bludger," Derrick said with a grin.

"Accidentally? You call that an accident, I saw you aim it right at me!" Poppy yelled.

"It was an accident, I apologized, can I go now?" Derrick said and Marcus nodded. Marcus let go of him and he hurried away quickly.

"You told me you wanted to kill him and that's all I get? A lousy, forced apology?" Poppy asked, annoyed.

"I can't kill him, he's our best beater. He knows, if he does anything similar again, I won't leave it at three punches."

"You only punched him once."

"Right. Yeah," he muttered.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks just flew by as Marcus had the team training almost everyday, occasionally before the sun was even up. Poppy's team mates weren't exactly warming up to her, but after what Marcus did to Derrick, their behaviour had changed for the better. Marcus did his best to try and include her, making her work as hard as anyone at practice and treating her as though she was just another boy, and others followed his lead.

Poppy, not having much experience with boys, was surprised to learn how openly they shared their thoughts in the locker room, even with her present. They would talk about girls, rating their looks or discussing who snogged whom, when and where. She was used to Grace sharing every little detail of her romances, but getting to hear the other side was fascinating. The boys never held back due to her being there, sometimes they were downright vulgar, though Poppy noticed Adrian was always quiet and Marcus wasn't as crude as she had thought, only chiming in once in a while to comment on someone's story, never sharing any of his own.

Poppy walked with Marcus back to the castle. They had just finished two hours of practice and supper would be served soon. Both of them were starving. Quidditch practice with Marcus was a lot more brutal than it had ever been with Oliver. They had often practiced at home and Poppy had been to see the Gryffindor team's training session a few times. Oliver, though firm, was also encouraging and helpful while Marcus was rough and demanding. The team would run through every play until it was perfect, even if it meant being late for supper or breakfast.

"You're awfully quiet whenever they talk about girls," Poppy said, meaning her team mates.

"Would you prefer I spoke like Montague?" Marcus asked.

"Oh, no, he's disgusting. But seriously, have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"That is none of your damn business."

"Fine, forget I asked."

Poppy had been getting to know Marcus for the last few weeks but it was proving to be quite a challenging task, as he didn't really want to talk about himself. So far she had found out Marcus liked Herbology, mostly because it was completely different from Quidditch, and that whenever asked about his family, he would get angry and leave. He was also an avid supporter of The Falmouth Falcons, not surprising at all since his playing style was very similar. Poppy also knew he kept a bottle of firewhiskey hidden in his trunk, "for emergencies."

They sat down opposite each other for supper.

"You know what your problem is?" Marcus said while filling up his plate with mashed potatoes. "You're too nosy."

"You're too private," she replied.

He chuckled. Poppy enjoyed these kinds of moments, where she saw what was under the tough shell of Marcus Flint. She had found that the best way to get information from him, was to tell him about herself. Usually, he didn't seem to care much or looked as though he was barely listening, but he never left or told her to stop bothering him. And rarely, if he was in a good mood, he'd share something about himself.

"Would you say we're friends?" Poppy asked after they had finished supper and were walking to the dungeons. "I know you've been saying for two weeks how you don't want any friends, but you spend time with me and we talk, so I'm just wondering..."

"We're mates," he said.

"That's another word for friend."

"Friends are for girls and little children, we are mates."

"Fine."

"Fine. And stop asking so many questions, bloody hell."

Inside, Poppy was beaming but on the outside, she remained calm and collected. She could finally say she had more than one friend.

The girls in Poppy's dormitory had teased her about Marcus a few times. They had said they couldn't understand what Poppy saw in Marcus since according to them, he was ugly. Poppy had tried explaining to them that she was not dating Marcus but they didn't believe her, especially after the rumor that had circulated. Their comments had actually gotten Poppy to think about Marcus's appearance. She had noticed his arms before and now, because of practice, she had seen the rest of his upper body too. He was definitely strong and muscular but not to the point of obnoxious. Poppy had to admit to herself Marcus' body was attractive. But it wasn't his body that made everyone call him a troll.

She had never thought of Marcus as ugly. During her first years she thought he looked scary with his signature sneer that rivaled the one of Draco Malfoy's and slightly trollish with crooked teeth but never ugly. His teeth were still slightly crooked but they looked a lot better than before and his nose looked as though it had been broken a few times. His beard was usually unshaven for a few days at a time. He wasn't conventionally attractive but there was something about his rugged appearance that appealed to Poppy. She thought it was only his reputation and the sneer that made a lot of students scared of him. Now that she knew him better, she found herself often thinking he looked fine. Sometimes even attractive, especially when he talked about Quidditch and got so intense he almost seemed angry. Poppy didn't think it was normal of her to be attracted to her angry friend, mate, whatever, so she didn't tell anyone. Especially Grace. Grace would never shut up if she knew what Poppy was thinking.

She was laying on her bed, once again thinking about Marcus's appearance. She didn't know why this was such a frequent topic in her mind and caused tingles in her stomach. When Marcus smiled, which wasn't that often, Poppy always wanted to smile, too. When he took off his shirt, her concentration was lost. She was sure he had seen her stare but hadn't said anything. Poppy was thankful for that.

Poppy had to admit she fancied Marcus. This had never really happened to her before, as most boys ignored her and she ignored them. Except Adrian, of course, but Poppy had never thought of him as more than a friend. She didn't know anything about relationships as her only examples came from people such as her friend Grace, whom she loved and cared for but whose longest relationship had lasted approximately two weeks. Grace always said she kept picking the wrong boys. Poppy had also seen her brother take a different girl to Hogsmeade every time they were allowed to go but none of them seemed to stick around.

"They all want me to spend so much time with them, I have other things to do," Oliver always said. "They don't understand my priorities."

Poppy sighed. She didn't know anything about relationships and clearly nobody else did either. Marcus had so many bad qualities, he was definitely not boyfriend material. The drinking, the fighting and always acting in the the most stereotypical Slytherin way were just a few of the things Marcus was known for.

A scream coming from the common room interrupted her thoughts and she decided to go see what was happening. As Poppy entered the room, she immediately saw a huge group of people huddled around Draco Malfoy, their teams seeker. Pansy Parkinson was standing right next to him, looking horrified and Poppy assumed she was the one screaming. Marcus was standing in a corner, looking worried and lost in thought. She went over to ask what was going on.

"Remember when Malfoy hurt his arm with the hippogriff on the second day of school?" Marcus replied.

"Yeah. Almost two months ago."

"True, but he's been complaining about it ever since. Somebody just accidentally bumped his arm and he's obviously faking the pain but if he keeps up this act, we won't be able to play against Gryffindor next week and your brother will probably think I'm scared of him and his little team and his little Potter. I could just hit him right now."

"What, Oliver? Since when do you care what he thinks?" Poppy asked and realized this was a rather stupid question since Marcus and Olivers rivalry had been going on ever since they were both chosen as captains for their house teams. From that point forward they were obsessed with each other.

"No, I could punch Malfoy, but Wood sounds like a good option, too," Marcus replied with a grin.

"Why are you always such a git?" Poppy snapped. Marcus looked at her surprised.

"It was a joke," he said, slightly annoyed. Poppy knew he didn't like it when people questioned him or his actions.

"Yeah, right," Poppy remarked and turned on her heels to go back to her dormitory.

Poppy fell on her bed and sighed. He was such an idiot, and she hated the fact she fancied him. It wasn't just physical, either, she actually liked his personality, at least during the times when he wasn't acting like a typical tough guy.

Chapter Text

It was finally time for the first Hogsmeade visit of the school year and Poppy was going with Grace, as usual. They always did the same things, went to Honeydukes to stock up on sweets, had butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks and went to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop to make fun of the lovey-dovey couples. After all this, Grace usually met up with some boy and today would be no different. Poppy usually spent her alone time browsing the shops but this time Marcus had promised to keep Poppy company while Grace had her date.

"Grace is abandoning me for a boy, yet again," she had said.

"If you promise not to ask so many questions, I'll keep you company," he had replied.

This was before she had gotten mad at him, and she didn't know if their plans were still on.

Oliver was going as well, his date this time was Alice Clearwater, a sixth year Gryffindor girl who, in Poppy's opinion, was by far the prettiest of Oliver's dates ever. It didn't matter, though, as there probably wouldn't be a second date.

Poppy and Grace had already visited their routine stops and were having tea at Madam Puddifoot's, waiting for Grace's date.

"What was his name again?" Poppy asked.

"Matthew... Something," Grace said. "He's a sixth year Hufflepuff."

"I can't believe you're having your date here. We hate this place,". Poppy said, gazing at the pink decor and lace tablecloths.

"Okay, it's tacky. But he invited me here. Where's your brother taking his girl of the day?" Grace asked.

"I don't know, he never tells me anymore."

"That's probably because we'd go there and mock him."

The boy named Matthew arrived just as he was supposed to and Poppy left the two of them to enjoy their heart-shaped biscuits. She stepped out the door and discovered Marcus was there, waiting for her.

"I didn't think you'd come," she said in a surprised tone.

"Because of yesterday? I'm not that easily offended," he said.

Poppy smiled at him and he smiled back, slightly.

"Butterbeer or shopping?" Marcus asked.

"Butterbeer, please. I can't afford to even look at a shop window right now," Poppy said.

And with that, they headed to The Three Broomsticks but stopped to admire the display in the Honeydukes window.

"I want to buy that," Poppy said, motioning to the huge milk chocolate bar with white chocolate swirls in the window. "But chocolate is apparently bad for you."

"So they say," Marcus replied.

In reality, Poppy couldn't afford to buy the chocolate. In fact, she couldn't afford anything at the moment. After buying her school books for the year, she wasn't exactly left with a lot of spending money. She had budgeted away enough money for a few small things, such as butterbeers or a chocolate frog or two but anything beyond that was just unimaginable. Most of the earnings from her summer job had gone towards paying for her and Oliver's room at The Leaky Cauldron.

When they arrived at The Three Broomsticks, Marcus surprised Poppy by paying for both of their drinks.

"Shut up and drink it before I take it back," he simply said as Poppy protested. Grace always said boys were supposed to pay for everything on a date but this wasn't a date and Poppy didn't want anyone to think otherwise, so she was trying to convince herself he was just being friendly. They sat in the darkest corner of the pub, the table had been Poppy's choice but she was starting to regret it. She didn't want people to think they were trying to hide.

"You never told me about you and Adrian," Marcus said, interrupting Poppy's thoughts.

"What? What is there to tell?" Poppy asked.

"Well, the way he talks about you, I get the feeling you were... Involved?" he said.

"No! Never! Is he saying we were?"

"Well, no, it's just, he kind of praises you a lot."

Poppy rolled her eyes casually while in her mind she wanted to seriously injure Adrian for making Marcus think they were ever together.

"We were friends, for a short time," Poppy said simply. "Then he tried to kiss me, I swerved the other way and after that we weren't really friends anymore."

"Oh," Marcus said.

"Told you there was nothing to tell."

"No, this is interesting. When was this?" Marcus asked. Poppy thought he was being way too interested in one almost-kiss between her and Adrian, especially when she was usually the one asking questions. Today, he seemed more talkative than ever.

"Last year. Did he ask you to talk to me about him?" Poppy said, slightly annoyed.

"No, of course not. It's just, whenever I see him, he just goes on and on about you," Marcus said. "And knowing there's nothing going on just makes it weird."

Poppy didn't know how to respond. She had known Adrian still had feelings for her, but didn't think he went around telling people. Knowing he did made her slightly uncomfortable.

"He only says nice things, though" Marcus said, almost reading her mind.

"Yep, as if that makes it normal," Poppy replied. "Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Sure. So, where's your brother? I figured he'd be trailing us but I haven't seen him," Marcus asked, half-jokingly.

"He's on a date," Poppy said, slowly sipping her butterbeer.

"A date? With a girl? That's a first."

"He's had many first dates but no second ones. Too busy, he says."

"Aye, you're never too busy to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman."

"Haven't seen you around one, either," Poppy quipped.

"What do you think I'm doing right now?"

Poppy was taken aback by this, her cheeks flushed, and Marcus clearly noticed as he started laughing.

"Relax, it was a joke."

Poppy breathed a sigh of relief and laughed with him but she couldn't help being a little embarrassed. What if he knew exactly what she was thinking? What if he wanted to tease her?

Later that day, after supper, there was an incident. Sirius Black had apparently broken into the Gryffindor Tower and so Professor Dumbledore made all the students sleep in the Great Hall as the castle was thoroughly searched for the murderer. To Poppy, it was actually rather fun to spend the night somewhere other than the dungeons, and lots of students stayed up whispering far longer than they were allowed. So did Poppy and Grace.

"I'm sure he meant it, it was his subtle way of saying you're beautiful," Grace whispered.

"No, he was just messing with me, as a mate," Poppy replied quietly, tying her hair into a bun. They were trying to be as quiet as possible, since Oliver's sleeping bag was no more than ten students away. He looked to be sleeping already, but Poppy wouldn't have been surprised to know he was eavesdropping on her conversation.

"If you say so, but I saw the way he looked at you when you came in," Grace said.

Poppy had been wearing the shirt Marcus had given her almost non-stop as her pyjama top, and tonight was no exception. Grace was already in The Great Hall, when Poppy arrived, and she absolutely insisted there had been some sort of look on Marcus' face when he had seen her, wearing the shirt. Poppy had not seen Marcus, as The Hall was packed with students, and had a hard time believing Grace, though she did have an eye for this sort of thing.

"I'm telling you, he likes you," Grace mumbled before falling asleep.

Chapter Text

Marcus Flint was not a guy who thought things through. His Quidditch plays were usually based on force and speed, rather than tactics and well thought out moves. When he wanted to punch someone, he did it without thinking about the consequences, and when ever he tried cheating on a test, it never occurred to him he might be caught. He was not the typical, calculating Slytherin, so, when he decided to tell Oliver Wood how he felt about Oliver's sister, he had not thought it through. After he did it, he thought to himself it would be a good time to start thinking ahead.

His original plan, actually, was to tell Oliver that Malfoy's arm was still hurt and Slytherin would not be able to play Gryffindor in two days. Of course, Malfoy's arm was actually fine and the slimy little git was completely faking the whole thing but Marcus couldn't do anything about it. He had tried telling Malfoy to stop acting, so they could play but Malfoy had, as always, started yapping about how powerful his father was and what he could do to Marcus and how his father didn't buy the team brand new broomsticks so his precious Draco could be treated this way.

Marcus had gone down to the Quidditch pitch after the Gryffindor teams practice and decided to tell Oliver there. The rest of the team had already left but Oliver had stayed to work on some new plays in the locker room. In a way, Marcus respected how hard Oliver worked for his team, for victory. They were the same, but completely different.

"Wood," Marcus said to get Oliver's attention. Oliver lifted his head, saw who it was and rolled his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Did you hear about Malfoy's arm?" Marcus said. Oliver nodded so he continued, "Yeah, well, apparently it's still hurting so in the first game you'll be playing Hufflepuff instead."

"What? Are you out of your mind? You know as well as I do that idiots arm is just fine!" Oliver yelled. Marcus didn't really want to comment on this, so he decided to change the subject and, unfortunately for him, the first thing that popped into his head was Poppy.

"So, is Poppy mad at me for something?" he asked. Oliver raised an eyebrow. "She seems mad."

"How would I know, she never tells me anything anymore," Oliver stated. "But if she is, you probably deserve it."

Marcus thought so, too, but unfortunately he didn't know what he had done to make Poppy mad. For the last few days Poppy had been yelling at him whenever they saw each other but it never seemed to be about anything in particular. This kind of behaviour was new to Marcus, since before, if someone was mad at him, they usually made it clear why. It was slowly starting to annoy him and the thought had crossed his mind, that maybe Poppy had decided she didn't want to be his friend after all. Marcus didn't know what was actually happening but this was the best explanation he'd come up with. He didn't know what had changed since Hogsmeade, but something was different. He had even thought maybe Poppy had taken his comment about beautiful women too seriously. It was another one of those things where he immediately regretted it as the words left his mouth, and tried to play it off as a joke.

He didn't put Poppy on the team because he thought she was pretty, though he did. His decision was mostly based on her skills and a little on the fact that she didn't let him say no. She was extremely stubborn and he never gave in on anything but made an exception for her. Marcus never thought he and Poppy would become friends and he didn't think spending a lot of time with her at practice would affect his feelings in anyway, but it did.

He liked Poppy from the minute she told him his team was horrible and spending time with her only made things worse. He tried remaining distant, not opening up to her, tried treating her just as he treated everyone else but it was hard. He wanted to tell her things about himself but didn't know how. He'd never felt this way towards a girl before. He'd never even had a real friend before and he wasn't supposed to have friends, he was the biggest, baddest Slytherin around. Other students feared him, his teammates only spoke to him because they had to and girls stayed far away from him. He had never needed friends. However, slowly he learned what she was like, and to him, she was amazing, funny and called him out on things he deserved to be called out on. She was his friend. His absolutely gorgeous, amazing friend.

"Did you want something else?" Oliver asked, snapping Marcus out of his thoughts.

"I like your sister," Marcus blurted out, once again before thinking about what he was saying.

It took Oliver two seconds to realize what Marcus had said and another two to knock him down to the floor. Oliver punched Marcus, who tried throwing Oliver off him but didn't succeed. Oliver went in for another punch, Marcus dodged and Oliver hit the floor instead. This was Marcus' chance to grab Oliver's arm with one hand and hit his face with another. Oliver fell off with a thud and Marcus stood up.

"Look, I'm not going to do anything about it," he said, wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve. Oliver got up and looked as though he was ready to go again.

"Then why did you tell me?" Oliver yelled. "Do you want me to hate you even more? It doesn't even matter, really, I guarantee she's only your friend out of pity."

"I wasn't going to do anything!" Marcus tried to explain. This was not going too well.

"And you won't or I'll kill you. And you better make damn sure that so-called friendship of yours ends," Oliver demanded.

"You know, I don't respond well to threats and I especially hate the way you try to run Poppy's life for her," Marcus said. He was completely calm, even though in his head he wanted to smash Oliver's head in with a beater's bat.

Their conversation was interrupted by the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, that had booked the pitch for the night.

"Why are you all standing in the doorway?" Cedric Diggory asked, as he walked in behind his team and pushed some of them out of the way in order to enter the room. His team was looking at Marcus with blood dripping from his nose and then at Oliver, who was holding his other hand as it was clearly hurt and bruised.

"What is going on here?" Cedric asked, when he saw his fellow captains.

"Nothing," Oliver replied and glared at Marcus.

"Yep, nothing," Marcus said, clenching his fist. He headed for the door and the Hufflepuffs immediately moved from his path like scared, jumpy animals. When he was almost out of the room already, he turned to Cedric and said one more thing, "Oh, right, Diggory, you're playing Gryffindor in two days. Good luck with that."

Marcus didn't want to go to the hospital wing as he didn't think his nose was broken and he could handle a little pain. Instead he headed towards the Slytherin common room and his dormitory. As he was rushing through the common room, he saw Poppy writing something, possibly an essay. She looked up at him, shocked at his bloody appearance, but he didn't stop. He went down to his dormitory, sat on his bed and took out an old shirt to stop the bleeding with. Poppy barged in through the door.

"I don't think you're supposed to be here," Marcus said but Poppy ignored him.

"What happened to you?" she yelled.

"Nothing," he said and shrugged. "Really."

"You think I believe that?" Poppy asked and sat next to him on the bed. She took the shirt from Marcus and wiped some of the blood off his face and hands.

"No," Marcus muttered. "I went to tell your brother about the new situation with the matches."

"And he hit you over that?" Poppy yelled, bouncing up from the bed. Marcus took her hand and pulled her back down.

"No," he said. "He told me to stay away from you."

"He's been telling me that for a while now but I didn't think he'd resort to violence," Poppy said.

"Uh, no, I punched him first," Marcus lied. He thought it might be best to step back and avoid anymore trouble. For effect, he added "The little git deserved it."

"Oh," Poppy said quietly. Marcus was still holding her hand but now she quickly pulled hers away. She got up, handed Marcus the bloody shirt and said, "Here's your shirt. Like you said, I'm not supposed to be here."

Chapter Text

It was a nice Saturday afternoon and the students of Hogwarts were pouring out of the castle and making their way towards the Quidditch pitch. Gryffindor was playing Hufflepuff in the first match of the year and Poppy knew Oliver was nervous. The Slytherin house had won the Cup for the last seven years and this year would be Oliver's last chance to go down in Hogwarts Quidditch history as a captain that actually led his team to victory.

Poppy was walking to the pitch with Grace but she was not planning on sitting with her friend. During her first year she had made the mistake of sitting in the Hufflepuff section and being there with her friend had made it almost impossible for her to follow the matches. Grace didn't know much about Quidditch and had an irritating tendency of cheering at times when nothing was actually happening.

Grace had been asking what happened to Oliver and Marcus' faces, so Poppy told Grace what Marcus had told her.

"So, are you mad at him?" Grace asked and Poppy shrugged.

"Which one?" she replied and added, "Though I guess it doesn't matter. I'm mad at Oliver for trying to run my life for me and I'm mad at Marcus, uh, Flint for being the violent moron that he is and I'm mad at myself for ever fancying him."

"Wait, what?" Grace shrieked and a few nearby Ravenclaws turned to look at them. Grace stuck her tongue out and the Ravenclaws hurried away.

"I guess I should have told you, right?" Poppy said.

"So, I was right! There is something going on," Grace said cheerfully.

"Nothing is going on," Poppy said. "He's old."

"True, he's older than Oliver," Grace agreed.

"Not by much, just a few months."

"What? Oh right, you and Oliver were both born in November. So... He's eighteen, then. You're almost fifteen. That's three years, that's nothing!"

"Maybe to you. To Oliver it would be death. Besides, he doesn't like me in that way. I'm sure of it."

They finally reached the pitch and parted ways. Grace made her way towards the other Hufflepuffs while Poppy climbed the nearest steps up to the Slytherin section, thinking at the same time who she would sit next to. Usually she just got there early enough that all the seats were empty and she could sit in the front and follow the matches, and whoever had to sit next to her would just have to deal with it. It was starting to rain a little bit.

Luckily, the front seats were still empty. A lot of the Slytherins hadn't bothered showing up to the match early, as it was only Gryffindor and Hufflepuff playing. Poppy sat in the front, as always. She could see Grace on the other side of the pitch, standing up and wailing both her arms in the air even though the match had not started yet. Some first years sat next to Poppy and slowly the whole Slytherin section begun filling up. Poppy turned back and caught a glimpse of Marcus sitting in the back next to Malfoy and his friends.

The game, or what little of it was visible, was exciting and Gryffindor actually stood a chance of winning until the dementors showed up and Harry Potter fell off his broom. The little rain drops had turned into full on thunder and lightning, the worst imaginable weather for Quidditch. Some of the students had evacuated themselves because the cold wind mixed with the rain made it impossible to see anything. Cedric Diggory caught the snitch and Hufflepuff won. Poppy saw Oliver's disappointed face as the Gryffindor team left the pitch, which The Hufflepuffs had invaded to congratulate their team. Poppy climbed down and decided to wait for her best friend near the exit.

"We won!" Grace squeeled when she finally broke free from the giant Hufflepuff group hug that was going on. "Even if it was mostly because Potter fell, we still won!"

"Great," Poppy said and didn't bother mentioning that both teams were quite equal until Potter fell and Hufflepuff could have won even if he hadn't.

"Cedric said he wants a rematch. He thinks it wasn't a fair victory and he went off to find Oliver," Grace said as she skipped happily towards the castle in the mud. "I don't know why, everybody's so happy right now."

The two girls ran to the castle in an attempt to stay dry, which at this point was impossible. Then they headed towards their own dormitories to freshen up before supper. On her way to the dungeons, Poppy ran into Oliver.

"Sorry about the match," she said, knowing quite well her brother was a sore loser. "Did Diggory find you, he wanted to-"

"Yes, he found me," Oliver cut her off. "And I told him Hufflepuff won fair and square."

"So, no rematch?" Poppy questioned and frowned.

"No," Oliver said and added that he had to go visit Potter in the hospital wing. Poppy knew this was a lie and Oliver would probably go to his dormitory and start obsessing about what happens if Gryffindor loses another match and how this one loss affects their chances of winning the cup, but she didn't say anything. He could obsess for hours on end about some tiny detail and no words could offer him any comfort.

"How's your face?" Poppy asked.

"It's fine, a few bruises. Nothing I can't handle," Oliver replied. "Did Flint tell you what happened? The whole story?"

"Of course, why wouldn't he?" Poppy asked.

"Well you seem completely fine and not at all mad at me, so I assumed he didn't," Oliver said.

"Why would I be mad at you?" Poppy asked and was slowly getting confused. Was Marcus not telling her the truth?

"Well, I did hit him after he told me that-," Oliver said but quickly stopped. "I mean, he's your friend or something."

"You hit him first?" Poppy yelled. "What exactly did he say that made you punch him?"

"Uh, well, uh. I should go. I'm a bit confused about the events of that night, so you should just listen to Flint. I'm sure his version of events is the exact right one," Oliver rambled, quickly turned and sprinted away.

Poppy was mad. She couldn't understand why Marcus would lie to her and planned on finding out right then and there. She raced to the dungeons, to the Slytherin common room and when Marcus wasn't there, she ran down the steps to the seventh year boys dormitory. And there he was, laying on his bed but there were also others.

"Get out!" Poppy yelled. "All of you, except Flint. Out now!"

"And why should we obey you?" said a boy whose name Poppy had always known but couldn't care enough to remember.

"Just go," Marcus mumbled before Poppy had a chance to say anything. The other two boys got up and left.

"You lied to me!" Poppy shouted. "Why would you lie to me?"

Marcus looked confused, so Poppy elaborated.

"Oliver hit first, not you! Why would you lie about that, it makes no sense! And he said he punched you after you told him something. What was it?" Poppy kept rambling and raising her voice. "Why would you lie? I thought we were friends and friends aren't supposed to lie to each other and, what? Do you not want to be my friend anymore? I sure as hell don't want to be yours if you'll keep saying things to my brother that make him want to punch you and then you'll lie about it!"

"Don't you ever breathe?" Marcus asked and gestured towards the bed next to his. Poppy sat down on it. "I lied because your brother told me it would be best to stay away from you, so I tried doing that, but I can see you're not going to let me end this thing, even if it might be best for all of us."

"You're stuck with me, to hell with Oliver," Poppy said and laughed a little.

"I've been saying that for years," Marcus said.

His expression changed from mostly happy to completely shocked as Poppy wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. Marcus didn't know what to do but Poppy wasn't letting go so he had no choice but to wrap his arms around her waist. He didn't even mind that Poppy was soaking wet and her hair was dripping all over his shoulders.

In reality the hug only lasted for maybe twenty seconds but to Marcus it felt an hour long.

Chapter Text

"Why did Oliver punch you?" Poppy asked one morning, at breakfast. "He said you told him something that made him want to punch you. What was it?"

She had been going over the scenario in her head for almost a week straight and had finally realised, that Marcus never told her why Oliver hit him. Replaying the words in her head, she specifically remembered Oliver saying it was the result of something Marcus had said, but he wouldn't say what it was.

"I told you, he said to stay away from you and I said no," Marcus replied, casually.

"No, that can't be it. Oliver wouldn't hit you over that," Poppy argued. It was true, Oliver hated Marcus a lot but would never just hit him over something so small.

Occasionally, while trying to figure out the details, Poppy fiddled on the idea that maybe Marcus had similar feelings for her as she did for him. Grace had been joking about that for a while but Poppy never thought she was too serious and if Marcus did like her, why would he tell Oliver? Surely he wasn't that stupid.

"I also told him he needs to stop trying to run your life," Marcus grumbled. "Now stop asking about it."

There was no use trying to get more information from Marcus. It didn't seem like Oliver to start a fight over small things, usually he had better reasons for punching people, like when he thought Marcus was spreading nasty rumors about Poppy. That was a good reason. Then again, Marcus did have some unique ways of presenting his thoughts and a unique, sometimes vulgar vocabulary. It was possible he had just spoken in a way that pushed Oliver off the edge. He was already tense about Quidditch and his last year of school, and Poppy's friendship with Marcus was not exactly helping him relax.

A week ago, Poppy had hugged Marcus. She regretted it immediately. Marcus was not really the hugging type, though he had hugged back, and she was worried the hug might have sent the wrong message. A message of something more than friendship.

Marcus was munching on a breakfast roll when Poppy interrupted him with a question.

"Do you know anyone who would want to date me?" she asked, in an attempt to make the hug seem meaningless.

"What?" Marcus asked, nearly choking on his roll.

"You know, a boy who would want to take me to Hogsmeade and buy me things from Honeydukes," Poppy said.

"I can do that for you," Marcus replied and quickly added, "I mean, you don't need a boyfriend for that."

"What if I want one?" Poppy asked.

"I'm sure Adrian would love to have another chance," Marcus mumbled, sounding almost angry. "Excuse me."

He left without finishing his breakfast. Poppy sighed. Boys were difficult and she didn't know how to read them. She wanted to know if she was just imagining things, or if Grace was right and Marcus really did fancy Poppy. She decided to do straight to the source of information and approached Grace at the Hufflepuff table.

"I need your help," she said.

"Oh, finally!" Grace said happily. "With what?"

Poppy sat down. Breakfast was nearing its end so there were few students around.

"I need to know, if he likes me," Poppy said and saw a big smile forming onto Grace's face.

"Just ask him, silly!"

"No, I don't want him to know how I feel."

"Oh. I think I have something that could help."

Grace rummaged around in her bag for a while, looking for something. It wasn't an easy feat, since her bag was always messy, filled with things she'd never need but carried with her anyway, just in case.

"Ha, found it!" she exclaimed happily and pulled out an issue of Teen Witches Weekly. On the cover, a blinking headline read 'How To See If He's Bewitched By You'.

"Grace, I don't think that's going to help," Poppy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course it will, this is quality journalism!"

She flipped through the magasine to get to the right article. Pictures of a winking young wizard adorned the pages.

"Let's see... Does he smile at you often? Well, that's a big, fat no," Grace said, scanning the article with her eyes. "He doesn't smile at anyone."

"That's... Sort of true."

"When you speak, does he look like he's actually listening and understanding?" Grace asked.

Poppy shrugged.

"Okay, another no. Blah, blah, blah... Does he try to find reasons to touch you... Probably not... Is he nervous around you?" Grace rambled, reading parts of the article out loud.

"Well, no," Poppy answered.

"Does he gently tease you? YES! He did do that! We got one!" Grace exclaimed happily.

"Great. So far, it seems he's not interested."

"There's one thing in here you could try," Grace said. "You could flirt with him and see how he reacts."

"I don't know how to flirt!" Poppy gasped.

"Right, that's true. Just compliment him on something. Tell him he smells nice. Touch his arm, they like that. Try to be subtle, though I know you can't, but try anyway."

It was easy for Grace to say, these things came so naturally to her, and she had two older sisters from whom she'd learned how to act around boys and how to do girly things. Poppy was sure it would be a huge mistake but at lunch, she decided to put her flirting skills to the test. Marcus was sitting right next to her and students around them were chatting away. It was the perfect moment.

"So, how were your classes?" she asked, looking him in the eye, as she placed her hand on his arm. He looked down at it and then up at her with a slight scowl, before pulling his arm away.

"Boring," he muttered.

So far, his level of interest appeared to be at a zero as physical contact was completely rejected.

"We have practice later, right?" Poppy asked.

"Yes," Marcus replied.

"You always smell so good after practice," Poppy said, trying to sound confident and alluring, though feeling nothing of the sorts.

Marcus turned to look at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Have you been drinking?" he asked.

"What? No!" Poppy said. This was going so well. It was time for one last attempt, something she had seen Grace do a hundred times and it always seemed to work. Poppy, who wasn't wearing a robe over her uniform, slowly arched her back, pushing out her chest, and threw her head back, running her fingers through her hair. She heard a whistle from across the table, probably Montague, but Marcus did not seem interested. He was looking at Poppy almost deadpan, with just a hint of anger.

"Is that how you'll find yourself a boyfriend?" he muttered, quickly leaving the table, and Poppy more confused than ever. The magasine had not said anything about a boy getting angry when flirted with. Poppy took that as a bad sign.

Later in the day, the Slytherins had Quidditch practice. It was almost the end of November and it had been raining since the last Quidditch match. The team was groaning about having to practice in such horrible weather but Marcus didn't seem to care. They were out on the pitch for at least two hours but to Poppy it felt five times as long. The rain was coming down so hard it was difficult to see ahead and the wind was almost knocking players off brooms.

Marcus signalled and the team landed.

"Everyone else can go but I think Wood could use a little more practice!" he shouted to be heard over the rain.

"What? Me? What about Malfoy? He's not exactly seeker of the year!" Poppy shouted back and saw Malfoy smirking, as the rest of the team headed for the locker room.

"You were fine," Marcus said, moving closer to her. "I just wanted to get you alone for a minute."

Poppy froze as Marcus kept inching in closer and closer. What was he talking about? Why was he getting so close, had the flirting actually worked? He stood barely an inch from her and leaned in to her ear. She felt his breath and shivered.

"I don't appreciate being made fun of," he whispered before turning and walking away.

"Wh-what?" Poppy stuttered and ran after him. She grabbed his arm to turn him around. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid, I get it. You think I fancy you and you wanted to tease me about it," Marcus said and continued walking away.

"No, that's not what I meant!" Poppy shouted, following him.

They reached the locker room where Marcus found some towels. The rest of the team was already gone.

"You should probably get out of those clothes or this towel won't be much help," Marcus said and Poppy raised an eyebrow. "I won't watch or anything."

He disappeared behind the corner, to the showers. Poppy took off the clothes she had worn for practice and was just now realizing how cold and drenched she actually was.

"Are you decent in there?" Marcus shouted after a while and Poppy replied, "Yes."

Marcus walked back to the locker room and he was only wearing a towel around his waist. This wasn't an unusual sight to Poppy as Marcus walked around with just a towel on all the time after practice. She sometimes thought he would probably walk around naked if she wasn't on the team and it would be all boys. She was sitting on the bench, wearing a towel around her and another one in her hair. Marcus sat next to her.

"Are you mad?" Poppy asked.

"A little," Marcus said with a stern face.

"I wasn't trying to make fun of you. I just wanted to know how you feel about me," Poppy tried to explain.

"You could have just asked."

"I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

"You want to know how I feel?"

Poppy nodded. Marcus looked as if he was hesitating for a moment but then grabbed Poppy's bare shoulders, pulling her closer. And he kissed her. It wasn't just a light peck, no, this was a full-on, passionate snog. Poppy's first kiss. It felt good, better than she had ever imagined. Though, nothing about her first kiss was how she'd expected. She was half naked, with Marcus Flint, in the changing room of the Quidditch pitch. Grace was going to have a fit over this.

The kiss must have lasted for minutes. Poppy didn't try to pull away, instead she tried to reciprocate, not knowing if she was even doing it right. Marcus finally pulled away and let go of Poppy's shoulders.

"So, uh, that's how I feel," Marcus said, after a moment of silence.

"Right, yeah, good," Poppy said. She couldn't think of anything else.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"You know, pretty much the same," she replied. He simply nodded. Neither of them knew what to say, or do, next.

Chapter Text

"So, then what happened?" Grace asked Poppy the next day. They were sitting on a window-sill by the courtyard as it was the quietest place they had found. Poppy didn't want any extra ears hearing her story. She had already explained what happened on the pitch and had just moved on to the locker room.

"He kissed me," Poppy said.

"WHAT?" Grace shrieked ear-splittingly loud. "Weren't you naked?"

"I was wearing a towel," Poppy said. "Why is that important?"

"Details are everything. How was it?"

"It was... Pretty great."

"You finally had your first kiss, I'm so happy!"

Grace was beaming like a proud mother as she hugged Poppy. "And then?"

"We sort of stared at each other and he mumbled he should go... And he did."

"Are you sure you did it right? Whenever I kiss somebody they don't just get up and leave seconds after."

Poppy punched Grace's arm.

"Hey, ow!" Grace cried out.

"What do I do now?"

"I wish I knew. Do you think he'll remember your birthday?"

"Doubt it."

Today was Poppy's fifteenth birthday. Grace had bought her a book about Quidditch, 'Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland', that Poppy had been admiring in a mail-order catalog. It was a great gift, Poppy thought. Oliver had gotten her tickets to go see the Falmouth Falcons next summer and Poppy was super excited for it. Oliver's birthday had been just two weeks earlier and Poppy now felt bad, having gotten him only hand-knit mittens.

Poppy hadn't seen Marcus all day. He wasn't at breakfast and he didn't show up for lunch, either. It wasn't until supper that he appeared but didn't sit next to Poppy. The Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw game would be played tomorrow and all week Marcus had been thinking about how it would affect Slytherin if Hufflepuff would win again, though he didn't think it was likely. Poppy thought maybe he was just preoccupied with Quidditch or maybe he just didn't want to think about the kiss. Maybe she had been bad at it.

After supper, Poppy was walking alone to the dungeons when somebody grabbed her, pulling her into a broom closet. She was about to scream when she saw it was Marcus. The closet was tiny, cramped with cleaning supplies, and they were standing right next to each other. He smelled nice, she noted.

"Sorry," Marcus said. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Am I a bad kisser?" Poppy blurted out.

"What?" Marcus asked, surprised.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"What? I haven't... Well, if I have, it wasn't because of that. The kiss was bloody perfect."

"Oh."

"It was just... I don't think it should happen again."

Poppy, expecting him to say something completely different, didn't know how to respond.

"Anyway, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday," Marcus said and pulled out a huge gift from behind his back. It was wrapped in silver paper with an emerald green ribbon. Slytherin colours, typical Marcus. He handed it to Poppy, who was even more speechless now. "Open it."

She opened the beautifully wrapped box only to find it contained the exact, huge chocolate bar she had admired at Honeydukes a month ago.

"You said you wanted someone to buy you things from Honeydukes," he explained.

"I love it, you shouldn't have," Poppy said. "But why are we in a cupboard?"

"Trying to be considerate of you, for once. Thought you might not want to be seen with me, so nobody gets the wrong idea. And, I think maybe, considering your brother, we should just be friends," Marcus said.

"Since when do you care what Oliver thinks?" Poppy asked, pouting her lips. This was not going the way she had imagined at all.

"I don't, but you do. The kiss was great, but I don't want to come between you two. He is your only family."

"He would just have to deal with it."

"And if he can't, you'll have to make a choice and you would choose him, as you should. Trust me, it's best if we just stay friends."

Poppy wasn't pleased but knew he was mostly right, so she agreed. She wasn't sure how their friendship would work from now on, but decided to try it anyway. Was she supposed to forget the kiss, forget her feelings? How could she?

After breakfast the next morning, Hufflepuff played against Ravenclaw and it was apparent their latest victory had an effect on the Hufflepuffs' confidence. They were so confident, in fact, that they clearly thought winning wouldn't require much of an effort. Ravenclaw completely flattened Hufflepuff and won the game. Marcus said to Poppy that they had nothing to worry about and that the Ravenclaws won just because they were slightly less weak than the Hufflepuffs. The next game would be Slytherin against Ravenclaw but it wouldn't be played until after Christmas.

Grace caught up to Poppy after the game. She was just walking next to Marcus when Grace grabbed her coat and quickly pulled her aside.

"Sorry, I need her!" Grace yelped at Marcus who was left standing there, completely dumbfounded. Grace dragged Poppy a little further from the crowd heading towards the castle before finally letting go.

"What now?" Poppy asked. "What is so important you had to pull me away from-"

"From Flint?" Grace asked and raised an eyebrow.

"No, from the line of students all heading inside where it's nice and warm," Poppy said, annoyed.

"So, tell me, what's been happening?" Grace asked excitedly.

"He gave me chocolate for my birthday, said we should just be friends and told me I'm a great kisser," Poppy said. "To sum it up."

"Really? You were pretty snuggly during the game," Grace remarked.

"I was cold, he was warming me," Poppy said, and felt a twinge of guilt, as if she was lying to Grace. It had been a very cold, windy day, and Poppy and Marcus had sat huddled up against each other for warmth and in that moment, Poppy didn't think it meant anything, but now she wasn't so sure.

"Alright, if you say so."

At supper that night, McGonagall gathered the names of students staying at Hogwarts for Christmas and both Poppy and Marcus were staying. Oliver was going to London and said he had some important matters to tend to. Grace was going to spend Christmas with her family and even invited Poppy along but, as always, she declined. Christmas at Hogwarts was always the highlight of her school year and she couldn't possibly miss out on it.

Next morning, Grace came over to the Slytherin table at breakfast and squeezed herself between Poppy and Marcus. Marcus looked at her a little funny but didn't say anything. As Grace rambled on, he kept eating his breakfast with slight amusement.

"You'll never believe what happened last night!" Grace exclaimed to Poppy.

"I'm sure it's no more unbelievable than your other stories," Poppy said, noticing Marcus smiling a bit.

"So, Cedric was bummed out about the loss and I tried cheering him up," Grace said. "And one thing led to another and we ended up snogging on his bed!"

Grace wasn't exactly speaking quietly so quite a few Slytherins raised an eyebrow while at the same time trying to look as if they weren't listening.

"That's... Great?" Poppy said with uncertainty.

"Well, I think so. Hey, you're a man," Grace said, turning to Marcus.

"Apparently," Marcus replied.

"Do you think he kissed me just because he was sad or is there something more?"

"Considering it's Diggory we're talking about, he's not the type to just snog you and toss you away."

"Are you?" Grace asked with a snarky tone.

"Grace!" Poppy exclaimed, shocked. Grace had always been direct but this was a whole new level of rude.

"It's fine, Poppy," Marcus said and turned to Grace. "When it comes to women, me and Diggory are not all that different, believe it or not. But I believe he's the one you should be talking to."

"You might be right," Grace said, getting up. "But just so you know, I'm watching you."

Poppy rolled her eyes at her friend while Marcus laughed slightly.

"So, there's a party next Saturday," he began as Grace left to go back to her own table.

"What?"

"A party. A Christmas type thing. And I was wondering if you'd want to go," Marcus continued.

"With you?" Poppy asked.

"Yes, as my friend."

Poppy agreed but Marcus wouldn't give her any more details of the party except that it wouldn't be all Slytherins. Poppy was quite puzzled as she hadn't know there were any inter-house parties at Hogwarts but at the same time she was rather excited.

Later that day, Poppy met up with Grace.

"I just love Christmas, don't you?" Grace exclaimed as the two girls were walking down the hall and saw Hagrid and Filch putting up the last of the Christmas decorations.

"You say that about everything. A few weeks from now and you'll just love New Year's and then you'll love Easter and it goes on and on..." Poppy pointed out. It was true, Grace had a soft spot for every holiday imaginable.

"You forgot about Valentine's Day," Grace said.

"Speaking of that, what's happening with you and Cedric?" Poppy asked.

"He invited me to some Christmas party next Saturday," Grace said. "I don't know what it is, exactly."

"Well, Marcus invited me. I know as much as you do."

"Wait, Poppy, how are you going to tell Oliver you're going to a party with Flint?"

"Why would I tell him?"

"He might be invited."

Poppy stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn't even thought of that. Of course Oliver would be invited, why wouldn't he be? Marcus was invited, so was Cedric, and Oliver wasn't exactly unpopular. But the more she thought about it, she realized he wasn't exactly the party-going kind either.

"He won't go," she said finally. "He doesn't go to parties."

"Well, you don't know that," Grace said. "He doesn't tell you everything, you know that."

"Well, I'm not even going with Marcus. He's just bringing me along as a friend," Poppy said.

"How is that going? The friendship?"

"It's confusing. We kissed, then he says he wants to kiss me again but that we should just be friends for Oliver's sake. Why does he care?"

"He cares about you, not Oliver."

"I know. It's just annoying. He should stop caring so damn much."

Poppy spent the next few days studying and trying to catch up with all of her assignments. Teachers seemed to be piling on more and more of them right before the holidays. She also had her last Quidditch practice for the year. It was freezing and for once Marcus was fair and didn't have the team out in the cold for hours on end. Afterwards Poppy and Marcus enjoyed some hot cocoa with their supper. Marcus said he would have preferred to have his with a splash of firewhiskey.

On Friday, the day before the party, Poppy was nervous and she knew exactly why. She wasn't nervous about the party, she was actually excited to get to attend something with her friends. It seemed as though it would be more fun than a strictly Slytherins-only type of gathering. She was just a bit troubled about the fact she was going with Marcus. He had said they were going as friends but these days Poppy didn't know what those words meant anymore. Would there be dancing? Would Marcus ask Poppy to dance or would he find some other girl to have fun with in an attempt to move on? Should Poppy try to move on with someone else? Mostly she was worried her brain might explode before the party even began.

Grace was helping Poppy pick out what to wear tomorrow. She wasn't allowed in the Slytherin dorms so Poppy had lugged some of her clothes to the nearest girls bathroom and was trying them on. Grace was a bit anxious to be going with Cedric as it would be their first actual date. She said so far their one-week-old relationship had been more about snogging than talking.

"Don't get me wrong, he's a great kisser," Grace said. "It's just, I feel as if I can't think of what to say to him and we just end up snogging instead of getting to know each other."

"I never thought I'd see the day when you don't have something to say."

"I know!" Grace exlaimed.

"Do you think there'll be a huge mess if Oliver shows up to this thing?" Poppy asked, worried.

"Maybe. I mean, I know you're just friends and that is what I keep telling people who ask me but I don't know if they believe me."

"People ask you if we're a couple?"

This was new information to Poppy. Sure, they had been getting some looks from people and she knew the Slytherins liked to rumor about them a bit but she didn't know it was becoming widespread.

"All the time. Personally, I think you would be good together."

"You can tell that to Oliver."

"I could but I choose not to. I don't want him to hate me as much as he hates Flint."

Chapter Text

That snowy Saturday was not only the day of the Christmas party Marcus had invited to, but the day of the years last Hogsmeade visit as well. Students usually used this opportunity to do some last minute Christmas shopping, and Marcus was no exception.

"I'm sorry, I have to buy Christmas gifts," he told Poppy when she asked him to go for a butterbeer with her. She didn't need to buy anything, as she usually preferred to gift hand-made items.

"Maybe we can meet up after you're done," Poppy said, hopeful. Grace was spending the whole day with Cedric and Poppy didn't want to spend her day alone, obsessing about the upcoming party.

"Maybe, but I can't promise you anything. This might take a while."

Poppy wandered around the shops alone, but not having money to buy anything, finally settled to spending her day at The Three Broomsticks. She had brought along a book to read just in case.

"Poppy!" someone called out and she looked up. It was Oliver. He made his way to her through the crowded bar and sat down at her table.

"It's freezing out there," Oliver said as he removed his hat and scarf. "You're lucky you're inside."

"I'm so lucky all my friends abandoned me," Poppy said dryly.

"Well, I'm here," Oliver said and flashed a smile, the first one in a long time.

"You don't have a date?"

"Not this time."

Poppy had missed spending time with her brother. It seemed ever since she and Marcus became friends, she only saw Oliver when he was angry with her. Poppy decided to take advantage of his good mood and had him buy her a hot chocolate. She knew he only seemed happy because Marcus was nowhere around her but decided to enjoy this rare moment nonetheless. As they were catching up, she was careful not to mention Marcus' name and only spoke briefly of Quidditch. Poppy tried to keep the discussion light and so she talked about her schoolwork and Grace's latest relationship and made Oliver laugh. On the outside she seemed happy, but she couldn't shake the feeling of how horrible it felt, not being able to talk freely to her brother. She used to tell him everything.

Before the party, a lot was happening in the Slytherin common room. Older boys were telling the younger students to go to their dormitories even though it was only six o'clock and a lot of the sixth and seventh year girls were disappearing into their dormitories giggling with their friends while others were sitting around the fireplace sulking. Poppy figured they were the girls who didn't get invited but she was wondering why it seemed as if everyone knew what was going on. The party wasn't broadcast all over the school and she'd never heard of it before even though Marcus had sort of hinted he'd been there before.

While Poppy was getting dressed, she kept peeking out the door just to see if Marcus was waiting for her. A lot of the Slytherin boys were sitting in the common room, some of them dressed in fancy outfits and waiting for their dates. Poppy's favourite people in the world, Victoria and her friends, were also getting dolled up for the evening. She was disappointed to see they had apparently also been invited.

When she was ready, she stepped out to the common room to finally see Marcus there. He was clearly representing Slytherin with his dark green vest which he wore with a tidy black shirt and black pants. At least there was no snake pattern or silver, Poppy thought to herself.

"You look amazing," he said. She was wearing a simple, strapless black dress with a full, knee-length skirt and black heels. Her blonde hair was lightly curled at the ends. She had even put on mascara and pink lipstick.

"You're not so bad yourself," she said with a smile and they headed for the door.

"Right, so what is this party, anyway?" Poppy changed the subject as they walked through the school halls.

"It's kind of an annual thing. Just a Christmas party to get everyone in the holiday spirit and give the four houses a chance to socialise," Marcus replied.

"Since when do you care about socialising with other houses?" Poppy teased and Marcus smiled.

"I don't, actually, but some people find it rewarding. They must be insane."

They walked for a long time and seemed to be heading towards the Quidditch pitch. Poppy saw the doors leading outside and stopped.

"Is that where were headed? We'll freeze!" she exclaimed.

"Don't worry," Marcus replied as he opened the doors to reveal some sort of pathway surrounded by small lights. He stepped outside and didn't even shiver so Poppy followed and was surprised to find that the freezing weather outside seemed to have disappeared. She stuck her hand outside the lit path to see if she was right about the pathway being under a heating spell and she was. Marcus tugged on her hand a little bit to remind her they should keep moving.

"How can this be here? What about the teachers? Or the dementors?" Poppy asked, amazed something like this had been going on for who knows how many years without anyone knowing.

"I don't know, it's just well organized," Marcus shrugged and it occurred to Poppy that he probably had not thought about it before.

"By who? Who invited you?" Poppy continued.

"Not sure. Every year I just get a note and it tells me where to go and when," Marcus explained. "This year was exciting, though, I got my first note that told me I could and should bring a guest."

"What if I didn't want to come?" Poppy asked.

"Then you wouldn't have come and I would've come alone. Simple."

They arrived at the locker rooms of the Quidditch pitch. They were nicely decorated with Christmas ornaments on the doors and some lights going around them. A blonde boy was standing at the door, Poppy recognized him as Ernie Macmillan, a third-year Hufflepuff.

"Ah, Mister Flint!" Ernie exclaimed in his typical, pompous manner and turned to face Poppy with a smile. "I see you've brought the lovely Miss Wood. I hope you both have a lovely evening."

He opened the doors behing him and Poppy and Marcus walked in.

"They have to make sure nobody uninvited gets in," Marcus explained. "And dorks like him can guard the doors to earn themselves an invite for next year."

Couches had been set up along the walls and all the lockers and benches had been moved to make room for the party guests. A lot of students were already there. Poppy recognised a lot of fellow Slytherins and some Hufflepuffs. Fred and George Weasley from the Gryffindor Quidditch team were there but luckily there was no sign of Oliver, at least yet. Grace had parked herself by the punch bowl in the middle of the room and was offering to pour drinks for any boys that walked past.

Poppy made her way towards Grace and was sort of surprised when Marcus followed her there.

"Want some punch?" Grace asked as soon as they reached her and held out a cup.

"I didn't know you were working at this party," Poppy said jokingly but took the cup as Grace poured one for Marcus.

"Ha, ha. This is the best way to meet everybody," Grace said.

"Who is there to meet? You go to school with these twats and see them everyday," Marcus said and took a sip of his drink.

"True, but tonight almost everybody is dressed really fancy and even boys have done their hair. Nobody is wearing an ugly uniform or anything," Grace said. "Even you look almost presentable."

"You know, somebody might think you're a wee bit shallow," Marcus said with a grin and Poppy laughed.

"Well, what do you know, he actually makes you laugh," Grace said with a smile. "And I thought you were lying."

"Yes, well, anyway," Poppy began to change the subject. "I thought Cedric was your date?"

"He is. He's just gone to get some more punch, you know how we Hufflepuffs are. Always helpful," Grace said. "Besides, it's not like we're married. I am free to meet other men."

They moved to one of the couches that had been set up for the party and just sat for at least half an hour, talking about things that could not have been less interesting to Marcus but it seemed he was there to stay. Poppy had sort of assumed they wouldn't spend much time together, since they came as just friends. Grace brought up the subject of boys, which Poppy thought would finally scare Marcus off but no, he was stuck to his seat.

"I'm actually a little mad at Cedric for leaving me alone here, we're supposed to be on a date and suddenly he has to go get punch? It's not his party!" Grace started ranting. "And he's been gone a long time, maybe I scared him off for good."

"Maybe he's just nervous," Poppy suggested.

"Maybe," said Marcus, who Poppy was sure hadn't even been listening to their conversation, "you should go dance with the Weasley twins over there, so when he comes back, he'll see you don't need him to have fun."

"How is that going to work?" Grace asked.

"It'll work, trust me. Unless you're scared."

"Ha!"

And sure enough, twenty seconds later Grace was already tearing up the dance floor with the twins.

"She's not scared of anything," Poppy said to Marcus.

"I figured. And I kind of wanted to spend some time with just you," he replied and Poppy was sure she was blushing. His hand was on her knee but he didn't seem to even notice it.

Poppy saw Grace had stopped dancing and was staring straight at Poppy while nudging her head towards the door. Poppy turned to see what was happening and there he was. Her beloved brother, Marcus' nemesis and the subject of every Gryffindor girls' fantasies: Oliver Wood. He was standing at the door, looking at Poppy and Marcus with a look that screamed hatred and confusion at the same time. Marcus quickly removed his hand from Poppy's knee. The Weasleys rushed to the door, took Oliver by the arms and dragged him somewhere further away.

"I should probably go talk to him," Poppy said and got up. She found Oliver and the Weasleys outside and told the twins it was ok. They went back inside but said they wouldn't go far.

Oliver looked angrier than ever before and this just made Poppy angry at him. She knew Marcus understood Oliver's point of view but she still couldn't. Why was Oliver trying to run her life for her? Who was he to say who she can and can't be friends with? Before Oliver had a chance to say anything, Poppy was already screaming at him.

"What is your problem?" she shouted and he looked taken aback. "I know you hate him because he's a Slytherin but guess what, so am I!"

"I don't hate him for that! I hate him because of all the little things you seem to be completely blind to and I cannot understand why you would want to be with someone like that!" Oliver yelled and before Poppy responded, he continued. "And don't try to tell me you're just friends, I know what friendship looks like and that's not it!"

"So you're not just angry at him, you're angry at me too?" Poppy asked.

"Yes! He's violent, he drinks, he cheats, he smokes and once he gets what he wants he will leave you! Why can't you see that?" Oliver shouted.

"You don't know him! How can you say those things when you don't really know anything about him?" Poppy yelled.

"Because I grew up with that! He is exactly like Dad! You were so small you don't remember it, and I've tried to shield you from the truth but I can't let you make this mistake!" Oliver shouted. "And I don't want to be the one to pick up the pieces when he breaks you!"

Poppy was taken aback. Oliver's face was red and his anger seemed to be fading to sadness. He sat down on the wet grass. She didn't know what to say anymore. Marcus walked outside. He appeared to have heard everything, which made Poppy think everyone else had too. Marcus walked up to Poppy and took her hands into his.

"You should go," he said. Poppy looked at him, eyes wide, and Marcus squeezed her hands, reassuring her that it was ok. She walked back inside and glanced back one more time before opening the door to see Marcus sitting next to Oliver. Once she got inside, everybody was still partying and nobody seemed to even notice her. Grace ran up to her and asked what had happened.

"You didn't hear any of that?" Poppy asked, confused.

"No, Flint put up some spell," Grace said and Poppy sighed of relief.

"Good. I'll tell you later, right now I just want a drink."

Chapter Text

Marcus didn't mean to eavesdrop but he couldn't help it. After he'd gotten rid of the Weasleys and conjured a silencing spell, he moved a few steps further and confirmed that nothing from the outside could be heard inside. His curiosity got the best of him and he slowly stepped closer towards the door. It was open a little bit, so he could hear quite well. Nobody seemed to notice him lurking around the door as the party was back in full swing. Everybody had definitely noticed Oliver arriving but nobody seemed to care about what happened afterwards.

Marcus could hear Oliver listing all of Marcus' bad qualities, Poppy shouting back, Oliver yelling things about their father and then everything went silent. Marcus thought maybe he should go see what was going on. He walked outside to see Oliver sitting on the ground and Poppy standing next to him. Marcus took her hands and told her to go inside. He slowly sat next to Oliver and when Oliver didn't immediately start throwing punches, Marcus assumed he was safe.

"My mother died giving birth to me," Marcus said when he saw Poppy had left. Oliver looked up at him from the ground, slightly confused and as if he'd been holding back tears, his face red. "My father raised me and he wasn't exactly what you would call a loving father. You know how some wealthy people let nannies raise their children?"

Oliver nodded.

"I wasn't one of those lucky bastards. My father believed in discipline. Harsh, physical discipline. I wasn't allowed to do much of anything at home so as soon as I got to school, I started acting out. I suppose that's where the drinking and smoking comes from," Marcus continued.

"Violence, too, I suppose," he added after a short pause. "Some people might say I'm exactly like my father but I disagree. He never loved anyone after my mother died, not even me. And I never thought I could love anyone, either."

"How is this relevant to me?" Oliver asked.

"You love Poppy and you want to protect her," Marcus said. Oliver nodded. "That's why you packed up and left your mother as soon as you could and you took her with you. When I turned seventeen, I emptied my bank vault and got myself an apartment. My father found out and tried to beat me as I was leaving. He hadn't tried to hit me in a few years, because he knew I was stronger than him but this time he was clearly full of rage. I suppose he wanted me to stay with him forever."

"What happened?" Oliver asked.

"I took him down with one punch. It was the first time I'd ever hit him. After that I've never looked back," Marcus replied.

"I'm not sure why you're telling me this," Oliver said.

"I care about your sister," Marcus said. "And I don't want to come between you two. She's already lost enough family."

"You could be the greatest guy in the world, though you're not, but you're still not good enough for her. I mean, the age difference alone is just... Killing me."

"I've told her that I'll be her friend, nothing more, but you know how stubborn she is. If you keep fighting her on this, well, nothing good is going to come of it."

With that, they both got up from the ground and made their way towards the door. Marcus opened it and Oliver stepped inside. Marcus followed and was just about to ask if he could ask Poppy to dance, when he noticed Oliver looking at something. Actually, a lot of the students seemed fixated on something, or rather, someone in the middle of the room. A blonde girl with a black dress was jumping on one of the couches with a drink in her hand and singing loudly and very much out of tune to the music.

"Poppy!" Oliver exclaimed. He sounded angry while Marcus looked at Poppy with slight amusement. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"I'm having fun, big brother! You should try it!" Poppy yelled while laughing and doing another spin on the couch, spilling some of her drink. Grace was slightly holding on to Poppy's leg, making sure she didn't fall and Cedric looked ready to catch her if she did. "This is the best party ever!"

"Me thinks the lady might be a wee bit tipsy," Marcus said with a smile and Oliver shot him a look of death.

"If you don't get off that couch right now..." Oliver said but Poppy just stuck her tongue out and continued singing. Most of the students around seemed to find the situation funny, somebody had a camera out and a few were just looking around to see if anyone else was disgusted.

"One ought not come to a party if one has no sense of humor," Marcus proclaimed and Oliver glared at him again. He began walking towards Poppy, but Marcus quickly swooped ahead of him and said, "I've got this, mate."

Marcus walked over, grabbed Poppy by the waist and placed her on his shoulder so that her legs were in the front. Grace took Poppys drink, much to her dismay, and Marcus walked out while some of the students clapped and whistled.

"My prince has come to save me from the evil dragon!" Poppy exclaimed before they exited and Marcus heard a roar of laughter from behind them. He carried her like that all the way to the Slytherin dungeons and somewhere on the way she either fell asleep or passed out. Since he couldn't enter the girls dormitory, he placed her on his own bed and tucked her in and as he was exiting the dormitory, she woke up.

"Where are you going?" Poppy asked quietly.

"I'll sleep in the common room. You just sleep there," Marcus replied.

"No, you have to come here. You're my prince," she whispered.

He moved closer to the bed and sat on the edge of it.

"Are you sure? You are quite drunk," he asked.

"Absolutely," she said with a smile. Marcus hesitated for a while but he lifted the covers and got in the bed next to her. He thought it was innocent enough, they were both fully clothed and everything. It wasn't until Poppy fell asleep again and wrapped her arms around him while scooting in even closer he felt he might've done something wrong again.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Poppy woke up in an unfamiliar place. As she slowly opened her eyes, she recognised the green and silver drapes around the bed, the same ones that adorned the beds in her dormitory. The blanket she was under felt familiar and soft but something wasn't right. The bed seemed much larger than her own and there was a different smell in the air. Usually when she woke up, the scent of Becky's perfume was lingering in the air, and Victoria was packing on some powder that didn't really smell like anything but left the air sort of dusty. The biggest giveaway she wasn't in her own bed probably should have been the fact that there was a boy, or rather, a man sleeping next to her.

Poppy sat up in the bed and rubbed her forehead. She was feeling quite groggy and couldn't exactly remember what had happened last night. She noticed she was still wearing her party dress and had apparently slept with her shoes on. Poppy decided maybe it wasn't a good idea to get up just yet and she laid down again. When she rolled over, she finally noticed the person next to her. Poppy screamed out of fright and the man was quickly awakened.

"Shut up!" somebody in the room yelled. Poppy now knew where she was. She was in Marcus' dormitory and he was now sitting up on the bed, rubbing his eyes, trying to see what was happening.

"Why are you screaming?" he finally asked with a whisper, sounding drowsy.

"I didn't know where I was," Poppy replied.

"Oh," Marcus said and laid back again, closing his eyes. "That's okay, go back to sleep."

It didn't seem wise to continue sleeping while all of Marcus' roommates were around them but Poppy was too tired to argue with herself about what was smart or the right thing to do. So she allowed herself to drift back to a world of dreams.

A few hours later they were both awakened by the sound of somebodys alarm clock. Poppy was about to get up when Marcus gently took her hand and pressed his finger against her lips. They lay in bed for a while, completely silent and listening to Marcus' roommates getting dressed and scurrying off for breakfast. When he was sure they were gone, he opened the drapes around the bed.

"You may not want them to know you were here," he said.

"They might remember me screaming," she replied and he shook his head.

"Nah, only one woke up and he'll probably think it was a dream," Marcus said and smiled. Poppy was holding her head with one hand and taking her heels off with another. "Headache?"

"A bit, maybe," Poppy replied.

"Well, there's nothing a good breakfast won't fix," he said cheerfully. "Why don't you go get changed and I'll do the same and we'll meet in the common room?"

Poppy agreed and headed towards her own dormitory. None of her roommates were there. Luckily they had apparently went to breakfast early. Today was the day most of the students headed home for the holidays and they wouldn't return until after New Years. Poppy loved spending her holidays at school since it was so quiet. She always had the dormitory all to herself. Victoria and her friends used to make fun of Poppy for "not having a home to go to for Christmas" but this year they hadn't done anything of the sort.

Poppys head was filled with noise and she still couldn't remember last night. She had clearly had something to drink but wasn't exactly sure why. She remembered Oliver showing up to the Christmas Party and that something had definitely happened but was it good or bad?

She got dressed and went down to the common room. Some students were pointing at her and whispering. This wasn't new to Poppy but it hadn't happened in a while so she got even more worried about the previous night. She noticed Marcus waiting for her by the door and quickly hurried over, grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the common room. Once outside, she dragged him to a quiet corner.

"What exactly happened last night?" Poppy questioned with a firm but worried voice.

"You don't remember?" Marcus said with a slight smile.

"Obviously I don't remember! I wouldn't be asking if I did!" Poppy snapped. Marcus was not taking the situation seriously enough. She had woken up in his bed with a banging headache and little to no recollection of the party. Her friend Grace would've deemed the party a success based on this.

"Well, Oliver showed up and you two went to yell outside, then he and I talked and when we got back inside you had apparently thought it would be a good idea to drink all the punch and dance on the couch," Marcus explained. Poppy looked mortified as parts of the evening flashed through her mind. "At that point I carried you off to sleep and offered to sleep in the common room but you absolutely insisted I sleep next to you."

"Right, it's all sort of coming back to me. Thank you, I guess," Poppy said and still looked as if she couldn't believe it.

They headed towards breakfast and Poppy wanted to know what Marcus and Oliver had to talk about. He wouldn't give any details but implied that they understood each other better now. Poppy was slightly shocked. At The Great Hall, they went to sit at the end of the Slytherin table. Some students were looking at them funnily but everybody seemed to be more interested in the upcoming holidays. Grace waved Poppy over right as she was stuffing her face with a muffin. She excused herself and walked over to her friend.

Grace looked almost as if she'd walked straight to breakfast from the party with her smudgy mascara and messy hair but fortunately she had exchanged her party frock to a jumper and skirt. Poppy chuckled a bit at the sight.

"Is that how you're going home?" Poppy asked.

"I'll have plenty of time to clean up on the train," Grace said. "And sleep. Lots of sleep."

"I didn't get back from the party until maybe three hours ago," Grace explained. Poppy couldn't help but laugh.

"So, a good party then?" Poppy asked and Grace nodded.

"Yup, me and Cedric had a wonderful time after you left," she said with a grin. "He was so jealous of the Weasley twins, say thanks to Marcus for me. Speaking of... What happened?"

"Oh, right," Poppy said and motioned Grace to get within whispering distance. Then she quietly said, "This morning, I woke up in Marcus' bed."

Grace spat out about half of her pumpkin smoothie and effectively turned a first year students white shirt orange.

"Nothing happened, of course," Poppy continued. "He put me there to sleep and I asked him to sleep next to me and he did."

"Your stories are the worst. They start out with a bang and then it's just oh, it wasn't a bang it was just a pop," Grace complained and noticed a lot of the students were hurrying back to their dormitories. "I should go so I don't miss the train. I still have to pack my pillow for the trip."

Poppy and Grace got up and hugged and wished each other happy holidays. Grace scurried away with the rest of the students and Poppy returned to her table.

"I guess it's just me and you then," Marcus said as she got there and motioned towards Grace and Oliver who were leaving the school for Christmas.

"And the dementors," Poppy quipped. "You, me and the dementors are going to have a lovely Christmas."

Chapter Text

Marcus had sort of promised Oliver to be Poppy's friend, nothing more. So, over Christmas break when Poppy started spending all her nights in his bed, he feared he might have broken that promise. It was innocent enough, Marcus thought, as they were just sleeping. In each others arms. Half-naked. It turned out Poppy hated wearing pyjama bottoms almost as much as Marcus hated wearing a shirt to bed.

It had started on the first day of break. Poppy had said she was scared to sleep all alone in her dormitory and Marcus had joked that since her roommates were gone, she should probably have felt safer than ever. He let her into his dormitory thinking they'd sleep on separate beds but instead Poppy just casually slipped into his bed.

"You're such a great friend," she had said before drifting off to sleep and at that moment Marcus had forgotten all about how wrong it seemed. She was happy and he didn't want to destroy that. He knew there would probably be consequences, but he didn't want to think that far ahead. He didn't have to, it was Christmas break after all. Logical thought was on holiday.

With almost everyone else gone, it seemed their problems had disappeared. All the other Slytherins had gone home for the holidays, so they had free reign of the dormitory. They stayed up late toasting marshmallows, reading and talking by the fire and slept however long they wanted. Marcus carefully avoided the subject of what he and Oliver had talked about at the Christmas party even though Poppy asked about it a lot. He didn't know if he wanted to share that much of himself to her as they had never really discussed their families before. He was afraid it would scare her off.

For Christmas, Poppy had knitted Marcus a scarf. It was the first handmade gift he had ever received and it made him happier than he knew how to say. The scarf was long, warm and black. It was also the best gift he'd ever gotten.

"It's for when you leave Hogwarts and can't wear your Slytherin scarf anymore," she explained. He beamed with pride as he wrapped it around his neck before reaching for Poppy's present.

Marcus was actually nervous to present his gift to Poppy. He had never bought gifts for anyone before, unless the chocolate he got for Poppy's birthday counted as such, and was terrified of messing up, scared she wouldn't like it. He had wrapped a small box with bright-colored Christmas paper and placed a sparkly bow on it. He handed it to Poppy. She began carefully unwrapping it, revealing a small, red suede jewellery box underneath the paper.

"What is this?" Poppy asked with excitement in her voice. Or disbelief, Marcus wasn't sure. She removed the lid of the box. "This is too much, Marcus!"

Inside was a pair of earrings, small teardrop shaped emeralds surrounded by clear crystals on a white gold base. Marcus could tell from Poppy's huge smile that he had succeeded with the gift.

"Thank you, I love them!" she said and swooped her arms around his neck. "They're so beautiful."

"I guess I managed to surprise you," Marcus said as Poppy broke free from the hug. She smiled and nodded frantically.

"I'm going to go put them on and wear them for supper!" she said excitedly and left the room to find a mirror.

Buying a gift for Poppy had been a terribly difficult task but finally Marcus had found a small antiques store in Hogsmeade where he had picked out the earrings all by himself.

"A gift for a special lady, I see," the shopkeeper had said and suddenly Marcus wasn't sure if they were sending the right message.

"No, just for a friend," he had replied. The shopkeeper had flashed a knowing smile and made Marcus unsure about his gift. He was relieved when Poppy didn't seem to read too much into the meaning behind the earrings. When he bought them, he didn't want to cross any lines but after sleeping in the same bed for nearly a week, he was sure many lines had already been crossed.

The Christmas Feast wasn't a large one as wasn't the number of students enjoying it. Instead of eating for hours straight, as was customary on Christmas, Poppy and Marcus both finished their meals quickly and then headed back to the dungeons. Poppy settled on to the couch to continue reading 'Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland' and Marcus revised some Quidditch plays on the floor.

"Can I ask you a question?" Poppy said, looking up from her book. Marcus stopped what he was doing and turned to face her.

"Sure. If it doesn't involve that bloody Christmas party again."

"Why did you come back this year? To school."

"I'm surprised you haven't asked me earlier. It's a boring story, really."

He got up from the floor and sat down on the couch opposite Poppy.

"I failed my Transfiguration N.E.W.T," Marcus said. "And I did badly on the others,"

"But you could have just left," Poppy said. "You don't have to pass them."

"I know," he answered. "Dumbledore offered me the opportunity to come back and take them again. And I accepted."

"Why?"

"Because the manager of the Montrose Magpies told me that if I can wait a year, they'll have a spot for me on the team."

"What? Marcus, that's amazing!"

"Yeah, I mean, as much as I love The Falcons, they're always at the bottom of the league and..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence before Poppy already rushed to hug him. And he squeezed her tightly, accidentally smelling her hair. It smelled like cinnamon.

"So... You'll move to Scotland, then?" Poppy asked, still hugging him.

"Looks like it," Marcus said.

"You should have told me earlier, that is such great news."

Poppy gave Marcus a small peck on the cheek as she broke free from the hug. Marcus was taken aback by this and Poppy seemed to be surprised as well. Marcus thought maybe the kiss was accidental. For a few seconds, neither of them knew what to do and they awkwardly looked around, as if they were looking for something or someone to change the subject. Suddenly, Poppy kissed Marcus. This time, on the lips and definitely not by accident. The kiss was very quick and she pulled away almost immediately.

"I'm sorry," she quickly said.

"It's fine," he replied. "I should go."

He got up to leave, not even knowing where he was going, but she grabbed his hand and pulled herself up with it. Poppy leaned in really close to Marcus, stood on her tiptoes to reach his lips, closed her eyes and placed one, slow kiss on his lips before he could even realise what was happening. And that was it for Marcus, rational thought went completely out the window. He grabbed Poppy by her waist, pulling her even closer and ran his hand over her back, finally reaching her cinnamon scented hair. He kissed her intensely while gently pulling her hair. She tasted like caramel and didn't pull away, so he kept kissing her. His heart was beating fast and it only seemed to get faster as Poppy ran her hands through his hair. He grabbed her waist again, this time guiding her towards the wall before pushing her against it. Poppy's hands were exploring his chest over his shirt and as Marcus caressed Poppy's neck with his lips, she breathed lifted Poppy by the waist and she wrapped her legs around him. He knew they had completely destroyed the line between friendship and romance by now, but thinking about that wasn't high on his list of priorities right now. It wasn't until Poppy pulled away from his lips that he completely comprehended what had just happened. She unwrapped his legs and he let go of her, stepping back in case she wanted to make a quick exit. Instead, she just stood there, looking up at him with her green eyes. Her hair was a mess and her cheeks were flushed.

"I'm so sorry," she said. Her eyes began welling up.

"You've done nothing wrong," he replied.

"I shouldn't have done that," she said quietly.

She looked distraught, so he pulled her in for a hug. She cried a little against his chest before he swooped her up and carried her to bed. He tucked her in and returned to the common room to ponder what exactly had just happened. He didn't go to sleep that night. He made a decision he knew would hurt them both, but it seemed the only logical option. Tonight had been great, he would've loved to have more nights like this, but he feared if things kept going the way they were going, he was going to have a broken mess of a girl on his hands.

He was kicking himself for all the things he did wrong. He never should have let her sleep in his bed. He should have bought her writing supplies as a gift. He should have kept his shirt on. He should have never told her of his feelings. He was never a man who thought ahead much, but he was thinking now. He was going to end it. He could only hope it would, eventually, lead to her happiness.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Poppy woke up in Marcus's bed. She faintly remembered him placing her there and as she opened her eyes, she saw him sitting on the next bed over. Last night had been crazy, she had lost control completely and quickly regretted it.

"Morning," she said, sliding out from under the covers. She sat up on the bed with her legs crossed.

"We need to talk," he said.

Poppy agreed. She was ready to apologize for acting so stupid, for being unfair towards him. She didn't think it was right of her to start kissing him, when they had agreed to just be friends. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do and she feared she had done just that. She didn't have a chance to say any of this, as Marcus did all the talking.

"I can't do this anymore," he said.

"What?" Poppy said, weakly.

"I can't be your friend. We're done."

"W-what? Wh-why?" Her eyes were welling up.

"You need to get over me," he said, his voice breaking only a little. "Stop feeling guilty about everything. You've done nothing wrong."

He left the room without so much as a goodbye. Poppy sat in silence for awhile, her eyes wide and mouth open with shock. Tears streamed down her face but she was completely silent, motionless. When she felt she could finally move again after what seemed like hours, she wrote a letter to Grace, letting her know what had happened, in a nutshell.

Dear Grace,

Marcus and I, not that there ever was a 'Marcus and I', are officially over. I snogged him and now he hates me.

Love, Poppy

She felt it summarised the situation well enough. She sort of understood what he had said. She did feel guilty about everything. Sleeping in his bed had been lovely but she would wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to go back to sleep. She would imagine what Oliver would say if he knew where she was. And not just Oliver, she imagined what people would say or do. The rumor about her and Marcus had been bad enough and that only lasted for a few days. He was older than her and also her captain. People could say horrible things about him. Poppy imagined Grace would be shrieking with joy if her scandalous life became public knowledge. Oliver would not be happy. Even their friendship, and the possibility of more, had been hard on him. But still, in between moments of guilt, her imagination ran wild. When she finally did it, kissing Marcus turned out to be everything she dreamed of. And then she snapped back to her senses.

They went back to sleeping in their own dormitories. During meals, they said nothing to each other and whenever Poppy caught Marcus looking at her, he quickly turned away. She cried everyday until Grace and Oliver came back to school.

"He just... Ended it?" Grace asked, sympathetically, after Poppy explained the situation better than she had managed to do in her letter. They were sitting on the steps leading down to the Hufflepuff common room.

"He did. We are no longer friends," Poppy said. "He said it's so I can stop feeling guilty."

"Well, you can. You don't have to worry about Oliver anymore," Grace replied.

"Great. Oliver is happy as a clam, I'm miserable and Flint is an evil mongrel."

"I'm sure he was just thinking of your best."

"And I'm sure he started to hate me and wanted an easy excuse to get out of this."

Quidditch practice started up again soon after everyone got back. They had almost two weeks to prep for an upcoming match against Ravenclaw. Marcus barely spoke to Poppy during their training, only once in a while shouting at her to do better. She held back tears every time.

Now that Marcus was out of Poppy's life, Oliver had jumped back in. He had been secretive about his visit to London but decided to share the reason behind it one morning, as he walked Poppy to class.

"I was hired for the Puddlemere United reserve team," he said, beaming. "I went to London to finalise the arrangements."

"When did all that happen?" Poppy asked, dumbfounded. He hadn't even hinted at something like this.

"They wrote me in October and I scheduled the meeting for Christmas break," Oliver said. "I didn't want to tell you since it wasn't a sure thing yet. But now it's official."

"That's great," Poppy said, mustering up a smile, the first one in a while.

"They're helping us find a house over there."

"In Dorset?"

"Yeah. Everything is going to be great, you'll see. Soon you'll be back to your old self."

He grabbed hold of his little sister and hugged her. Poppy didn't say anything, just congratulated her brother. She didn't want to start an argument about how there was no going back after what Marcus had done. She had, for obvious reasons, not told Oliver everything, just that Marcus had decided to end the friendship, out of the blue. Around Oliver, Poppy tried to seem normal but even he, usually oblivious to everything, knew something was wrong.

Poppy spent her days doing what Marcus had told her to do, getting over him. She tried thinking of all his bad qualities, how he had once thrown Montague off his broom at practice for slacking off or how last year he had broken Roger Davies' nose after a match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, but everytime she tried, the thought of something like their first kiss would find it's way into her head. Or the birthday present he got her, or the beautiful earrings that were now just thrown into to the bottom of her trunk along with the shirt he'd given her. She tried her best to hate him but it just wasn't happening.

Grace's budding relationship with Cedric wasn't helping matters much, either. The two of them were always sitting together at the Hufflepuff table or canoodling in the hallways. Poppy didn't even dare to imagine what went on inside the Hufflepuff common room, or Cedric's dormitory. Poppy was happy for her friend but felt little pangs in her heart whenever Cedric kissed Grace or held her hand. It wasn't easy being around the happy couple and Poppy didn't want her misery to ruin their happiness, so she had slowly drifted away from Grace. She couldn't take it when Grace invited her over to the library to study with her and Cedric or outside to build a snowman, so she made up lousy excuses.

Before the game against Ravenclaw, the Slytherin team was sitting in the locker room, waiting for their captain to give a motivational speech. Malfoy was saying how he shouldn't be expected to be in his prime since his injury only allowed for so much practice and though he was finally feeling better, he had lost a lot of valuable time.

"Nobody cares, Malfoy," Montague said, yawning. Marcus shot him a deadly look.

"Late night, Graham?" he asked, emphasising Montague's first name.

"Actually, it was, there was this girl..." Montague said before noticing the look in Marcus' eyes indicating he did not care nor did he plan to listen.

"Pull it together," Marcus snapped.

He had always been tough and occasionally angry with his players, but lately it seemed Marcus was more tense than ever. Three hour practice had become the norm and Marcus was irritated by the smallest thing. He began his speech.

"Listen, I know we can beat these Ravenclaws. They think they're smart but we're fast and strong. We'll destroy them. Malfoy, you have to watch out for that girl they've got as a seeker, she's not terrible even if she is a girl."

Poppy took slight offense to this statement, and judging from his frown, so did Adrian. Neither one said anything.

"This is what we've been practicing for. While they've been studying, we've been here. They don't stand a chance. Alright?"

"Alright!" the team chanted and players got up from their seats, but Marcus wasn't done yet. As they formed a line at the door, he added, "And if someone screws up, they'll have to answer to me."

The two teams were neck and neck until Malfoy caught the snitch from right under Cho Chang's nose. The Ravenclaw team had a very capable keeper as well as some fantastic chasers who managed to get the Quaffle past Poppy but Slytherin clearly had better, more aggressive beaters. Marcus played very well, Poppy thought, and almost managed to not break any rules until he grabbed Derrick's bat and swung a Bludger right at Cho Chang, nearly knocking her off her broom. This was a move Marcus was known to do and Poppy had previously thought it was just his style or maybe he thought breaking the rules was funny but now, she noticed desperation on his face as he swung that bat. He had once complained about not being able to play every position himself.

"If I could clone myself, I would," he had said. "Then everything would be done right, exactly the way I want it. I can train my team, and mine is really good, but I can't make them be me."

Poppy had to respect his determination. Luckily they won the game, maybe giving Marcus a chance to relax for once. After winning, it was customary to have a celebration back at the common room and this time was no exception. Someone had stolen butterbeers from the kitchen and two fifth-year students had charmed the words "Slytherin Wins" to float in the air, sparkling with green and silver. At previous victory parties Poppy had always sat in the corner of the common room, being silently happy for the team but this time, she was actually part of the team. The Slytherins had congratulated her just as much as anyone else on the team, they'd shaken her hand and patted her on the back. It seemed all she had to do to get onto their good sides, was to be excellent at Quidditch.

Malfoy was bragging to everyone about how he was a key element in this victory. The fact that he was right annoyed Poppy, but she let it slide, it was the team's big day after all and everyone was in a good mood. Everyone except Marcus. He was sitting in one of the leather chairs, sipping something that looked exactly like butterbeer, but Poppy was sure it had firewhiskey mixed in.

"Speech from the captain! Speech!" Montague shouted from across the room. Everyone's eyes turned to Marcus. He slowly got up and chugged down his drink.

"We won because we were lucky," he said, drawling every word. "That's all."

The mood in the room quickly fell. Students were looking around, not knowing if he was joking or not. Poppy knew he wasn't and so did Adrian. He emerged from the crowd and followed Marcus, who had been slowly making his way to the door.

"Who cares about him, let's party!" Montague shouted as soon as the door closed behind them. Students cheered and lifted him in the air. Poppy decided to follow Marcus and Adrian and quietly snuck out the door. Outside, she heard them arguing around the corner and listened intently.

"Why can't you ever admit we were good?" Adrian asked, raising his voice slightly.

"It was sloppy play," Marcus responded. "Simple as that."

"We were bloody excellent and the team needs some more respect from you! They've worked so hard for you and don't deserve to be treated this way," Adrian ranted.

"I get it," Marcus said, slurring his words a little. "This is about her."

"No, it's about the whole team," Adrian argued, stuttering a little.

"No, it's definitely about her. When are you going to get it through your thick skull she doesn't want you? It will never happen, so you can stop trying to be her knight in shining armor."

Poppy heard a smack, followed by a loud thud and the sound of someone falling on the floor. She hurried across the corner to find Marcus standing over Adrian, who was holding his bloody nose on the floor.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Marcus asked, raising his voice. Holding his fist, he glared at Poppy. She didn't answer and instead hurried over to help Adrian up from the floor.

"Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling beside him.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, glaring at Marcus who was returning to the common room, cracking his knuckles. Poppy helped Adrian up from the floor.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to hide the fact she'd been listening.

"Nothing," he said.

"He just hit you?" she asked.

"I hit first, it's no big deal. Just trying to gain some respect for the team," he mumbled, not looking her in the eyes. "Let it go, he's just drunk. It's nothing new."

They went back to the party. There was no sign of Marcus anywhere and Poppy decided not to let him ruin this moment. She grabbed a butterbeer and dove into the crowd, loving the attention she was getting. Even Malfoy grabbed her hand, raising it in the air as a sign of victory.

"Slytherin!" he bellowed and students around them cheered. Poppy couldn't help but laugh. She had a feeling tomorrow the Slytherins would go back to hating her but for now, she decided to enjoy being celebrated.

Chapter Text

The rest of January went by fast. Marcus cancelled all the practices he had scheduled for the team that month, refusing to give a reason. Poppy didn't mind the extra free time and didn't worry too much since they wouldn't play another game until March. Over the weeks, she noticed seeing Marcus less and less anywhere. He seemed to have disappeared, only showing up occasionally to breakfast or supper.

After the victory party, some Slytherins had gone right back to hating Poppy with burning passion, most were still indifferent and the rest seemed to actually accept her as one of their own, especially members of the Quidditch team. Students no longer stopped talking if she entered the room or scooted to sit further away from her at The Great Hall. Montague had even asked her to join him in his favorite broom cupboard but Poppy had politely declined the offer.

On the first Saturday of February, Gryffindor played against Ravenclaw. Gryffindor won, even though Harry Potter was the target of attempted sabotage when Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus dressed up as dementors and ran out to the field only to be chased down by Potter's Patronus charm. After the game, a furious and red-faced Professor McGonagall had taken them somewhere to be reprimanded.

"That was really stupid," Montague said, laughing as the four boys entered the common room. Some Slytherins laughed along with him while others looked at Malfoy and the others with disdain. "But it was hilarious!"

"Shut up, Graham," Malfoy muttered and ushered his two friends to their dormitory. Marcus threw himself on a couch, glaring at Montague who was laughing so hard he nearly fell from his chair. Poppy was curled up under a checkered blanket in an armchair, reading her Muggle Studies book. For once in her life, she agreed with Graham Montague on something. The boys' stunt had been incredibly idiotic, the kind of thing that could get a team disqualified from playing. When she learned Marcus was a part of it, she questioned his sanity, and to an extent, her own.

"I told you not to do it," Montague said to Marcus, finally toning down the laughter. "You know how Malfoy's plans always turn out."

"I needed a laugh," Marcus mumbled.

"Clearly it worked, you're downright ecstatic right now," Montague said jokingly. "Poppy, come cheer him up, love?"

"Shut up, Graham," Poppy said, lifting her eyes from the book and shooting a deadly glare at Montague.

"Alright, sorry. I thought he was more your type," Montague said, turning to Marcus. "You know she turned me down?"

"You don't say," Marcus said dryly.

"Yeah. I was left wondering how you ever managed to bag a girl like that, if she wouldn't go for a classy guy like me. Then again, I guess you weren't good enough, either."

"You'd be wise to shut your mouth right about now," Marcus muttered, clenching his fists.

"Lighten up, captain," Montague said with a big smile. "I'm only messing with you. But really, you should move on. I hear she likes gingers now."

Poppy looked up from her book, eyes wide with horror. The next Hogsmeade visit was only a week away and Oliver, in an attempt to cheer Poppy up, had arranged a date for her. George Weasley was supposed to take Poppy and show her a good time around the village. She didn't even want to go, though he was a nice boy, and had only agreed to it to make Oliver shut up. He was sure she was on the verge of falling into depression and had clearly thought it was his job to find an appropriate date for her. How did Montague already know who she was going with when she hadn't even told Grace yet?

Marcus turned his head towards Poppy, his lips pursed and brows furrowed.

"Gingers, eh?" he said, staring right into her eyes. Poppy was silent and tried to avoid his gaze.

"Word is, George Weasley will be her next victim," Montague said. "Any advice for the poor bloke?"

"Tell him to stay away," Marcus grunted. "This one's nothing but trouble."

Whatever problems she had hating him before, were definitely gone now. She stormed out as quickly as she could before the tears started rushing down her cheeks, leaving behind her book and blanket. Now she was sure he hated her. Maybe their whole relationship had been a lie, just something to pass the time with, maybe to bother Oliver. A ploy to break him in their last year as opposing captains. She didn't want to think it true but given his history, it was hard not to.

"It's all in good fun, love, don't be upset!"

She heard Montague yelling after her but wasn't going to stop. She ran down the steps to her dormitory, threw herself on her bed, crying. It had been a long time since she last shed a tear for Marcus and she wouldn't let there be a next time. She decided to let her newfound hatred for him be the kick she needed to develop thicker skin. Wiping her tears on her sleeve, she got up to check herself in the mirror. The mascara Grace had given her was truly amazing, as Grace had said, it hadn't even budged. Taking a deep breath, she gathered herself. Her eyes were only a little red, probably unnoticeable to a boy, so she returned to the common room to fetch her things.

Marcus and Montague were still lounging around. Montague got up when he noticed Poppy and came over.

"You alright?" he asked, picking up her book from the floor where it had fallen. "I get carried away sometimes, didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's fine," Poppy muttered and took the book. She grabbed her blanket and threw it on the nook of her arm.

Montague was a strange boy. He had a cruel sense of humor and didn't seem to have any filter regarding what he said and to whom but he wasn't mean-spirited. He apologized if he saw the need to but for some of the targets of his jokes, that wasn't enough and he got into a lot of fights. Sometimes Poppy appreciated his honesty and direct words but now and then, he could be really hurtful. Earlier in the year he had made Victoria cry by asking her if she dyed her hair red to look more like her boyfriends former girlfriend. She did, everybody knew it, but it was just one of those things you weren't supposed to mention. In a way, Montague reminded Poppy of Grace, though Grace usually only made mean-but-true comments about herself or Poppy.

Poppy could see why many girls, mostly Slytherins, had their sights set on Montague. He was from a wealthy family, in good shape and had thick, dark brown hair and dark eyes. He was also rumoured to become the next Quidditch captain. Even some of Poppy's roommates had said Montague would be the perfect boy to marry after school. Poppy had wondered how they could say that without ever talking to him, but she also knew many of their parent's marriages had been semi-arranged.

"Marcus here is a bit of a grump," Montague laughed, making Poppy chuckle.

"True," Poppy said. "Bitter, too."

Marcus glanced in her direction. Catching his eye, she flashed a big smile.

"Graham, if it doesn't work out with the Weasley, I'll know where to find you," she said before going down the steps, trying to convey that she was now, finally, over Marcus. She obviously had no interest in Montague, but figured who better to use to prove a point. She knew Marcus probably cared zero to none about who she dated but still, she thought she saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes.

A week later, the morning of the Hogsmeade visit, Poppy was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson at breakfast. She had worn the earrings Marcus gave her for Christmas.

"They're so beautiful," Pansy admired. "Aren't they beautiful, Draco?"

Malfoy glanced over and shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, uninterested. "At least they're Slytherin green."

"Where did you get them?" Pansy asked Poppy.

"A gift, from-," Poppy hesitated. Marcus wasn't sitting far away, she knew he heard their conversation as he was throwing quick looks in their direction. "From nobody important."

A loud shattering sound caught all the students' attention. Marcus had squeezed his glass of orange juice so hard it broke in his hand. Blood was gushing from the cuts made by glass shards. He sat there, staring at his hand in shock and almost all Slytherins were staring at him. As students started whispering, he snapped out of shock and jumped up from his seat.

"Don't you people have anything better to do?" he yelled. Poppy had been staring like everyone else, but quickly turned away when Marcus looked her way. From the corner of her eye, she saw him holding a napkin to his hand. In mere seconds, it was completely stained by blood.

"Uh, mate, maybe you should to to the hospital wing," Montague carefully suggested from across the table.

"Uh, mate, mind your own fucking business," Marcus snarled before leaving the scene in a huff.

During their date, Poppy really tried to like George Weasley so he'd have something positive to report back to Oliver. They were sitting in The Three Broomsticks, enjoying two butterbeers.

"Oliver told me you like Herbology," George said in an attempt to create conversation. "I've always been bad with plants."

"It's one of my favourite subjects," she replied simply while noticing his features. He wasn't bad looking. He was rather tall, not quite as tall as Marcus but definitely Oliver's height. He had broad shoulders, hair the colour of fire and freckles all over his face and neck. He wasn't typically handsome, for sure, but he was cute.

"Not a common combination, though, Quidditch and Herbology," George pondered. "Not many people like both."

"You'd be surprised," Poppy said with a smile and took a sip of her butterbeer.

"I like your earrings," George said, changing the subject.

"Thank you. They were a gift, from-," she hesitated again, but George caught on and raised his left eyebrow.

"From Flint?" he asked.

"How did you know?" Poppy replied. She felt her cheeks burning. She didn't want George to tell Oliver about this.

"Lucky guess. I get the feeling you don't really want to be here with me," he said with a slight smile.

"Please, don't be offended," she said apologetically. George shook his head.

"No, I understand. I'm only here because Oliver insisted. I mean, you're very beautiful but you're very short," he quipped.

"What?" Poppy asked and burst into laughter.

"Do you prefer vertically challenged?"

She laughed, he really was funny. And smart. And safe. If she had felt any kind of connection to him, he could've been the perfect boy for her. No drama, no trouble. The spark just wasn't there.

"So, what do you say we part ways and just tell Oliver it wasn't meant to be?" George suggested with a wink.

"Sounds good," Poppy replied, relieved that he seemed to understand the situation.

After wandering around the village awhile, Poppy found Grace and Cedric at Honeydukes. Grace noticed her and for a moment they stared at each other until running to hug one another.

"I'm so sorry for ignoring you!" Poppy blurted out as they broke free from the hug. Grace smiled kindly.

"No, really, it's my fault," she said. "I should have spent more time with you alone and not abandon you for a boy."

"No, you tried to include me but I didn't want to put a damper on your happiness so I ignored you," Poppy argued.

"Maybe we were both at fault," Grace said with a big smile and Poppy chuckled before agreeing.

After deciding to go somewhere to talk, Grace told Cedric he couldn't join the girls in the pub and he understood, saying he had to check out new Quidditch gloves. They parted ways. Poppy and Grace found a nice and quiet corner table at The Three Broomsticks and settled in with drinks.

"I heard you had a date with George Weasley," Grace said while unwrapping her huge scarf and placing it on the back of her chair, on top of her coat.

"Yes, I did. It was Oliver's attempt at cheering me up. Didn't really work out," Poppy replied.

"Ah, Oliver. I was wondering why you would go out with George, he's not your type at all."

"I don't have a type," Poppy argued. Grace just smiled and grabbed her butterbeer.

"Hey, Poppy," Montague hollered from across the pub and approached the girls' table. He noticed Grace. "Is this your friend, the school slag?"

"What?" Grace said, nearly choking on the butterbeer she'd been sipping.

"No offense, you know," Montague said, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks were slightly flushed.

"None taken," Grace said with a wide smile. "I like having a title."

Montague flashed his signature big, bright smile in Grace's direction. It was the smile that had turned many girls legs into jelly.

"Uh, did you need something?" Poppy interrupted, noticing that Grace had begun fluttering her eyelashes at Montague.

"Flint wants to see you, by the Shrieking Shack," he responded, still staring at Grace. "Alone. Soon as possible."

"Alright, well I think it's time I returned Grace to her boyfriend, anyway," Poppy said, snapping both Grace and Graham out of their thoughts. "Thanks, Graham."

"No problem," he said, turned around looking slightly disappointed and trotted away.

"He's cute. I think he's in my Charms class," Grace said immediately as he was out of hearing distance. "Is he single?"

"He's a notorius ladies man, who will share the intimate details of his conquests with anyone willing to listen," Poppy explained. "So, technically, yes, but Grace, you don't want to go there."

"Why not?" Grace asked with a frown.

"Did you not hear me? Besides, you have Cedric," Poppy reminded her friend. Grace sighed loudly.

"But I'm bored of Cedric."

"Bored? You've been going out two months!"

"My personal record, really," Grace said. "He's just too nice. I mean, he's gorgeous and I really do like him. He just acts as if we've been married for twenty years, there's no spark. Everything we do is routine."

"Routine? How?" Poppy asked.

"Every morning, he waits for me in the common room, kisses me on the cheek and then we hold hands as we go to breakfast. He butters my toast for me and pours my juice. Then he walks me to class, gives me a kiss and wishes me a nice day."

"Oh, you would hate that, wouldn't you?" Poppy said, understanding the problem. Grace got irrationally angry if she had two days in a row with the exact same class schedule or if she had to eat the same thing for lunch and supper. Doing the same things with Cedric everyday for two months was surely driving her crazy.

"What do you think Flint wants?" Grace asked, as Poppy began putting on her coat and scarf.

"I don't know, I don't care," Poppy said. "A week ago he said I'm nothing but trouble, and after that I stopped caring what he thinks."

Poppy arrived at the Shrieking Shack and found Marcus sitting on a tree stump. Not wanting to get too close, she stopped about twelve feet away from him.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled, getting up. He had his hands in his pockets.

They stared at each other for a while. Poppy was trying to read his mood but his face seemed expressionless. He was wearing the scarf she had made him.

"What did you want?" Poppy asked snarkily.

"I just wanted to ask you, if you're actively trying to ruin my life or if that's just a bonus for you?" he asked, completely deadpan.

"What? I'm ruining your life? How?" Poppy asked, raising her voice. He had been the one to end things between them, not her. He was the one who was acting as if nothing ever happened between them.

"You flirt with Montague, go on a date with that Weasel, and wear the earrings I gave you but act as if they mean nothing to you! And you expect me to, what, just sit back and watch?" Marcus yelled. His face was turning red and he had taken his hands out his pockets. His left hand was wrapped in gauze. She stepped back, confused.

"I'm doing what you told me to do, trying to get over you. You're the one that's been acting up. You got drunk and punched Adrian for... For what, exactly?" she asked, trying to remain calm, a million thoughts buzzing in her head.

"He didn't like hearing how he'll never have you and hit me first. He deserved it, for being pathetic," Marcus muttered.

"You said I'm nothing but trouble," Poppy said, her voice shaking a little.

"I thought it would make it easier for you to move on if you hated me," he replied and then spitefully added, "but clearly, moving on has been no problem for you."

"You hate me! I'm just trying to cope with that!" she yelled at him, her face red and fuming.

"Hate you?" he asked loudly, with disbelief. "I love you!"

"What?"

Chapter Text

Poppy's voice shook and she felt her whole body go numb. His last words echoed in her mind. She had no response, this was the last thing she had been expecting. She crossed her arms and tried to avoid looking at his eyes. She fould feel the tears coming and bit her lip, trying to stop it. She looked around at the trees, the snow on the ground, her own feet. Anything but him. Breathing in deeply, she finally allowed herself to look in his direction. Marcus stepped towards her.

"I do have a piece of advice for Weasel. Now that he has you, tell him to never let you go or it'll be the worst mistake of his life," he said firmly. Poppy looked straight into his eyes and a few tears streamed down her face. "Hell, it was definitely the worst decision I ever made. And I'm not known for making good decisions."

Poppy's voice was still shaking. "You love me? Then why did you end it?"

"You couldn't handle the guilt," he said. "I tried to make you happy."

"Well, I'm miserable!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "You've made me miserable!"

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "I hope Weasley makes you happy."

"I'm not with George," Poppy replied quietly while wiping away her tears with her mitten. "Oliver set us up. It was his idea."

"You're not?"

She shook her head. He stared right into her teary, red eyes. On his face Poppy could see a mixture of relief and worry. They stood in silence for a while. Poppy stopped crying.

"Now what?" Marcus finally asked. Poppy took a deep breath and considered her next words very carefully. She knew saying what she was about to say wasn't the best idea, but it was what she wanted. She would deal with the consequences later.

"Now, you kiss me," she said.

Marcus was taken aback. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Kiss me, Marcus Flint."

She didn't need to tell him a third time. In one swift motion he was right in front of her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss. It was almost aggressive and made her feel weak at the knees. His unshaven chin scratched her milky skin. As Marcus pulled away, Poppy found herself not wanting to let go. She grabbed him by the collar on his coat and yanked him back for another kiss.

"That was nice," he said when she finally let him get some air.

She looked up at him with a smile. "It was."

"We'll do that again?" he asked with a wink. Poppy nodded. "And your brother?"

"He'll have to deal with it, just like everyone else," she replied firmly.

"You're suddenly full of confidence," he said.

"I'm just tired of secrets and lies."

Poppy thought since she had been full of disappointments for Oliver ever since she landed herself in Slytherin, one more couldn't hurt. They agreed to keep it a secret for a little while longer so Poppy could tell Oliver before anyone else found out. They walked back to Hogsmeade holding hands but parted ways before anyone saw them.

After supper that night, Poppy saw Oliver head down to the Quidditch pitch. He often went flying alone or strategised in the locker room. She followed him to deliver her news. Inside she was a mess, worried she would actually lose her brother, but on the outside she tried to seem calm and collected.

"Oliver," she said, standing in the doorway of the locker room, to get his attention. He was just grabbing a quill and some parchment.

"Hey, sis," he said with a smile, turning around.

Poppy cleared her throat. She could feel her hands starting to shake. "There's something I need to tell you."

Oliver's smile faded quickly. He sat down on the bench and leaned forward. His brows furrowed. "This is about him, isn't it?"

Poppy nodded and he sighed, shaking his head.

"He said he loves me," she said.

"Do you love him?" Oliver asked, looking straight into Poppy's eyes, looking for an answer that would please him. He didn't find it.

"I don't know. Maybe. I'm too young to know what love is."

He looked down at the floor, leaned on his legs with his elbows and didn't respond. Poppy moved further in from the doorway.

"I just need you to understand I'm not doing this to hurt you," she said quietly. "I'm doing it for myself."

"It would have passed. I know things were rough for you for a while but things pass, people move on, you get over them."

"I tried that, it didn't work."

"Maybe you didn't give it enough time."

He was furious, she could tell, even though he was still focused on the floor. "Look, if you just spent some time with him, maybe you'd..."

"What, like him? That'll never happen," Oliver spat out. "He's just going to turn out exactly like his father."

Poppy was taken aback. "What do you know about his father?"

Oliver finally looked at her. "He beat Flint, as a kid. He never told you? It's why he is the way he is."

Marcus had never told her. She had never told him many things about her past, either. But how did Oliver know this?

"So, people grow up to be their parents? Is that what you're saying?" Poppy ranted. It didn't matter how Oliver knew about Marcus's father or if it was even true. All that mattered was that Oliver was wrong. "Funny, you're nothing like dad. And I'm not crazy like mum. You know, I've done my best to make you happy but I can't do it anymore. You could at least try to get to know him. For me."

Oliver was silent and sighed again, looking away from her. Poppy turned on her heels and rushed out, she didn't like being sighed at by Oliver as it always meant he was disappointed in her. She was prepared to be a disappointment, but it still hurt.

Arriving in the Slytherin common room, Poppy found many of her team members laughing and chatting away by the fire. Pansy Parkinson was sitting on Malfoy's lap in one of the armchairs, stroking his hair, but he looked more interested in the game of Exploding Snap that Derrick and Bole were playing. Her hand kept obscuring his vision and he kept swatting it away. Marcus noticed Poppy by the doorway and got up from his chair, taking a few steps towards her, with a worried look.

She smiled. She wanted to make their relationship official to everyone, no matter how badly it had gone with Oliver, so she dashed across the room and almost leapt at Marcus, crossing her arms around his neck and planting a kiss right onto his lips. Though surprised, he managed to wrap his arms around her waist, holding her in mid-air and returned the kiss.

Around them, some students cheered loudly and Poppy heard the cards from Derrick and Bole's game exploding one by one, faster and faster, indicating that they had stopped playing. Poppy and Marcus broke off from the kiss, and Marcus looked around to see students staring at them, some with smiles on their faces and others with almost disgust.

"Don't you people have anything better to do?" he growled. Poppy laughed, and took his hand. He turned to her, smiling.

"So, he's not made of ice after all," Montague hollered from the couch. "Or did you just manage to melt your way into his heart?"

Poppy laughed while Marcus glared in Montague's direction. "Shut up, Graham."

"But it's just so sweet," Graham said cheerfully while fluttering his eyelashes. Marcus's eyes narrowed and Poppy felt his body tense up.

"Shut up or you're off the team," he spat out.

"Looks like he's not done melting," Malfoy said quietly to Graham. Marcus heard and shot them a deadly glare. They both jumped up from their seats quickly and scrambled away from the common room. In the process, Malfoy dropped Pansy Parkinson on the floor.

"Draco! Wait for me!" she whined as she got up and ran after him.

"Annoying gits, the both of them," Marcus said while leading Poppy to the couch. They sat down and he put his arm around her.

Poppy snuggled in even closer. "They're not that bad."

"How did it go with Wood?" he asked.

"Not very well. But it'll be fine," she replied as he stroked her hair gently. Her day had been exhausting so she closed her eyes, placed her head on his chest and felt herself falling asleep. He woke her up an hour later to send her to bed. After a goodnight kiss, she happily skipped to her own dormitory.

"I guess you're not too good for us Slytherins, after all," Mary said mockingly as Poppy entered. She didn't reply, as conversations with any of the girls were usually pointless.

"You're on the team now and you snagged yourself one of the most eligible men in Slytherin," Victoria piped up. She was brushing her long hair on her bed.

Poppy shot them a quizzical look. They had always called Marcus ugly but suddenly he was husband material?

"You see, we all know he's going to be a professional Quidditch player," Becky said, laying on her stomach next to Victoria.

Ah, that explains it, Poppy thought as she slipped into her pyjamas. Money. It could make almost any Slytherin girl weak at the knees. She climbed into bed. "Just get to the point. If you have one."

"You can sit with us at breakfast tomorrow," Victoria offered. Mary and Becky nodded eagerly.

Poppy rolled her eyes at the unexpected suggestion. "I think I'll pass."

"But you're one of us now," Victoria tried to argue, her voice turning shrill and her eyes narrowing. Her two friends looked at each other, completely gobsmacked.

"Uh, whatever. I'm going to sleep now," Poppy said and pulled her emerald green curtains to cover her bed. Though the girls continued their babbling, she blocked them out and drifted back to sleep quickly.

At breakfast the next day, Poppy filled Grace in on what had happened the day before. Grace, who had come over to sit at Poppy's table, was thrilled to hear all the good news.

"That's amazing!" Grace repeated many times. "But not the Oliver thing, obviously. He'll come around, I know it."

"Where did you disappear to yesterday?" Poppy asked. She had looked for Grace at Hogsmeade after her talk with Marcus but was unable to find her. "I didn't even see you at supper."

"I was late to supper, well, we were," Grace replied. "I tried rekindling the fire with Cedric, so to speak."

"And?"

"And, if he was half-naked all the time, we'd have a great relationship," Grace said. Poppy looked at her friend confused, so she explained. "Meaning he's very dull with clothes on."

"Right."

Two months was quite an achievement for Grace, and if Cedric was as dull as she said, Poppy was surprised it had lasted this long. She could only hope poor Cedric wasn't expecting them to be together forever. Marcus was late for breakfast and when he finally arrived, he kissed Poppy on her forehead before sitting down next to her. Poppy could almost feel people from other tables staring at them, knowing the story of their kiss last night had probably spread already. From the corner of her eye, she saw Oliver looking straight at them and gripping his fork tightly. But she didn't care about him or the others. There would be plenty of time to worry about them later.

Marcus started loading his plate up with toast and waffles. "Good morning, everyone."

"Morning," Grace replied. "Could you pass me the orange juice?

Poppy smiled. At least her best friend, who had never been too fond of Marcus Flint, could act civil around him and be happy for their relationship. Oliver could have used a sprinkling of the famous Hufflepuff loyalty, she thought.

"How's it going with Diggory?" Marcus asked Grace and bit into his toast.

"It's not, anymore," Grace said with a frown. "I should probably go tell him that, actually."

Grace grabbed one of Marcus's waffles and ran after Cedric, who was just leaving The Great Hall. Poppy noticed Montague eyeing her friend from across the table.

"Graham, don't," she said sternly.

"What? Maybe she needs a comforting shoulder," he said, raising both his eyebrows.

"Everybody knows you'll offer her more than just a shoulder," Marcus said. Montague shrugged and shook his head, trying to look innocent but his attempt was met with laughter from all around the table.

The following week was very interesting. Their relationship was getting almost as much attention as Sirius Black and the dementors. New rumors had began circulating, including one where Marcus had been the test subject for the worlds first personality swapping charm. Poppy didn't really see much of a change. He had almost always been sweet to her and even now, he was still the same grumpy Marcus to everyone else. Maybe he had mellowed slightly. Their Quidditch practices used to start at five in the morning and now he'd moved them to five thirty.

Oliver was also surprisingly mellow about the whole thing. He would see Poppy and Marcus walking hand in hand and just turn and walk away instead of lunging forward to try to kill Marcus. It was definitely progress, Poppy thought.

Most students seemed to be adjusting to the two of them as a couple rather well. Some Gryffindors had asked Professor Snape to remove Marcus from his post as captain on the grounds of inappropriate behaviour, but they had been highly unsuccesful. A rumor had been started that Marcus had actually repeated more than a year and that he was, in fact, twenty-five years old. One rumor said that Poppy had started school earlier than most and that she was just thirteen. Everyday she also got to hear of a new spot where they'd been spotted snogging. According to the student body of Hogwarts, Poppy and Marcus had already locked lips in the fourth floor broom cupboard, outside the Hufflepuff common room, in the locker rooms at the Quidditch pitch and also in the corner of Snape's classroom. In reality, they were moving at a much slower pace.

That Friday morning, Poppy had a double Potions lesson with Gryffindors. Being the spiteful person that he always seemed to be, Professor Snape had assigned everybody a partner from the other house. Poppy got Katie Bell, Gryffindor chaser. Oliver had spoken about her before but had described her as graceful and meticulous. Poppy was getting a slightly different impression. First Katie dropped all of their ingredients on the floor and then, when they were halfway done with their Pepperup Potion, she tipped over their cauldron.

"Oh, Merlin's beard," Poppy sighed when all their hard work went tumbling down. Katie rushed to clean it up. Professor Snape came over, hands behind his back.

"Is there a problem here?" he drawled.

"Sort of," Poppy replied. Katie got up from the floor and lifted their cauldron back on the table. Her hands were covered in a green, gooey mess.

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape, it was my fault," she said quietly.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for disrupting my classroom," Snape said dryly and turned to walk away. Katie looked crushed and slightly pathetic. The green goo had somehow worked its way to her brown hair.

"Professor, I don't think that's fair," Poppy blurted out, surprising Katie and even herself. Snape turned back, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't, miss Wood?" he asked.

"It was my fault, too. I wasn't paying enough attention," Poppy lied. Snape's face twitched. Poppy knew he hated having to take points from his own house.

"Fine. I'll retract my last statement," he stated calmly. "Now, start over. And don't mess up this time."

"Thank you for that," Katie said when Snape was out of hearing distance.

"It's no problem," Poppy replied and took out her wand. With one simple spell she erased the goo from Katie's hands and hair, the floor and their cauldron.

Katie started measuring the first batch of ingredients again. "I didn't expect you to be this nice. I mean, Oliver speaks very kindly of you but I didn't think you would be nice to me."

"Why not? Because I'm a Slytherin?" Poppy asked, already knowing the answer. She grabbed her book and flipped to the right page since it'd gotten lost in all the commotion. Katie shrugged.

"Well, pretty much. We are on opposing teams," she said.

"I'm not one for fierce rivalry," Poppy explained and went to grab more honeywater from a cabinet.

"Aren't you dating Marcus Flint?" Katie asked as Poppy returned and started pouring the honeywater into a beaker.

"I am. But we're different in many ways," Poppy said with a shrug. Saying out loud that she was actually dating Marcus Flint made her smile.

Katie lit a fire under their cauldron. "So it would seem."

Poppy poured in the first round of ingredients. Their concoction turned a pale blue colour.

"I understand that you have to hate him because Oliver does. But Oliver doesn't know him, not really," she said. Explaining herself to this girl seemed silly, yet she was doing it. Oliver wasn't talking to her but maybe she could change just one Gryffindors opinion.

"I guess if you like him, he can't be all bad," Katie said while stirring their potion.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Poppy said with a smile. Their conversation was interrupted by a loud bang from another table. Victoria and her partner, a black-haired Gryffindor boy, had blown up their potion.

"At least I didn't do that," Katie said, making Poppy laugh.

After class, Poppy headed for lunch. Both Grace and Marcus had class while she had her lunch break so she sat and ate alone. As she piled a second round of mashed potatoes onto her plate, she noticed Oliver waving her over. It had been a nice Friday so far and she hoped Oliver wouldn't cause a scene, ruining it.

"Hey, sis," Oliver said, getting up as Poppy approached him. A half-smile crept up onto his face.

"Hey," Poppy replied calmly.

"I have reconsidered your suggestion," he said. "I would like to spend time with your boyfriend."

Chapter Text

"Do I really have to do this?" Marcus asked with a pained expression. They were standing right outside The Great Hall. Students were going in for supper, and Marcus had promised to join Oliver for his. He was happy that Oliver had suggested this, but the idea of actually spending time with his biggest rival, his nemesis, was almost unbearable.

"Yes, you do," Poppy said firmly and crossed her arms.

"But we hate each other. That's not going to change," Marcus tried to argue. At least not without a lot of alcohol, he thought to himself.

"I'm not asking you to be best friends, but you need to tolerate one another."

"Fine, I'll go. The things I do for you."

He headed towards the Gryffindor table. Students gave him weird looks as he passed them and he glared right back at them. Some first years looked at him as though they'd seen a dementor coming their way. He was glad to know he could still scare people even though people said he'd gone soft when Poppy came along.

"Hey," Marcus said and sat down opposite his fellow captain.

"Hey," Oliver replied indifferently, barely even lifting his gaze from the plate he was slumped over.

Neither of them knew where to start, or even wanted to be there, so they sat in silence for a while. Marcus twiddled his thumbs and Oliver cut up his chicken into a hundred little pieces. He was just about to start on his potatoes, when a red-haired boy scooted to sit next to him.

"Oliver, why is he sitting at our table?" Percy Weasley asked while shooting mean looks in Marcus' direction.

"We're bonding, Weasel. Go mind your own business," Marcus said sharply, causing Percy to get up in a huff and move much further away. Oliver quickly waved at him apologetically but Percy simply turned in the other direction, protesting what had just happened.

Oliver turned back to Marcus with a frown on his face. "Are you always that rude?"

"Yes," Marcus simply said with a smirk. He was there to make Oliver not hate him, he couldn't care less about some Weasley.

"Ah. Now I get what she sees in you," Oliver said.

Marcus stopped smirking. While trying to think of something to say, he realised that Oliver was probably feeling the same way about this meeting that he was, or maybe even worse. "This isn't going very well."

"No, it isn't," Oliver replied.

"I heard you got tickets to see The Falcons over the summer," Marcus said, when he couldn't think of anything else. He figured they both liked Quidditch and they both liked Poppy, and Quidditch seemed a much safer topic to discuss. He really wanted to have something positive to report back to Poppy, so this wouldn't all be for nothing.

"Yes. Although, I don't know why Poppy likes that team so much," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. He piled more chicken onto his plate.

"Well, you wouldn't," Marcus scoffed and grabbed a plate and some food. Oliver, like the rest of the Gryffindors, was too much of a goody-two-shoes to understand a team like the Falcons.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, they're your favourite, too?"

"Pretty much," Marcus replied with his mouth full of delicious sauce-soaked bread.

"How can you support a team like that? With their foul plays they should've been kicked out of the league years ago!"

"It's much more entertaining to watch when you don't know who's going to end up in the hospital," Marcus said with a grin.

Oliver laughed. "That's crazy!"

"No, it's fun. Who do you support, then?" Marcus asked, pleased that their exchange seemed to be going rather well now.

Oliver rubbed his chin and hesitated for a moment. "I have a soft spot for The Cannons, but my favourite team is probably The Ballycastle Bats."

"Because they have the best mascot?" Marcus asked, not understanding why anyone would pick the Bats as their favourite team. To him, they were boring.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "No, because they have some of the best players. I mean right now they're got McGideon, Templeton and Bowen!"

"Falcons have got O'Leary," Marcus reminded him.

"True. But I'm sure he's switching to another team soon," Oliver said.

"Or maybe he'll stay and help them win," Marcus said hopefully, though he knew it wasn't likely. A player of that caliber was bound to have offers flying in from every corner of the world.

"That would probably be a nice change for them. To see what it's like," Oliver replied, laughing a little.

"That coming out of the mouth of a Chudley Cannons fan just sounds really ironic," Marcus retorted. Oliver chuckled and agreed while dipping his bread into the sauce, looking skeptical of the whole concept. After trying it, he declared it to be delicious.

Percy Weasley appeared at Oliver's side again and declared in his pompous manner, "I am Head Boy, you know."

"I'll make you a headless boy, if you keep bothering me," Marcus said through gritted teeth. Oliver chuckled but quickly stopped when he noticed Percy's angry face.

"You can't sit here!" Percy shouted. His face matched his bright red hair and Marcus thought he saw smoke coming from Percy's ears. He'd never met a Weasley worth liking and this one was no exception. At least some of the others played Quidditch.

"Why not?" Marcus asked.

"Because you're not a Gryffindor!"

"Is there a rule against it?" Marcus asked, knowing there wasn't. In detention a few years back, Professor Snape had made sure Marcus read the schools rulebook over and over until he knew it by heart. Percy was flustered and started mumbling incoherently. "You find out and get back to me, alright?"

Percy stormed off again, this time leaving The Great Hall entirely.

"I never thought I'd say this, but thank you Marcus Flint!" Fred or George Weasley declared from further away.

"You have to tell us how you did that," the other twin continued. Their little brother laughed. Marcus seemed to remember his name to be Reginald, maybe. He was sitting next to Harry Potter, who was giving Marcus a really evil stare. Marcus stared back intently with narrowed eyes and his lips curled into a smile. Potter quickly looked in the other direction.

"He may be a bit too eager, but you shouldn't make him mad. He can get you in trouble," Oliver said, snapping Marcus out of his thoughts.

"There's no rule against me sitting here," Marcus said.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "I was referring to you threatening to cut off his head."

"Oh, right."

"Now, I have to go to practice, but I have something to say before I go," Oliver said and stood up.

"I'm all ears," Marcus said.

Oliver placed both of his hands on the table and leaned over. He spoke quietly but his voice was cross. "My sister is the only important person to me in this world. I don't think you deserve her but you seem to make her happy, so I'm not going to stand in your way. But if you hurt her, I swear..."

"I won't," Marcus said quickly, irritated.

"I hope for your sake that's true," Oliver said. He grabbed his bag and left, leaving Marcus to ponder what just happened. He was slightly insulted by Oliver's words. Suggesting he could ever hurt her was ridiculous. It almost made him want to punch Oliver's face.

"Apparently they found some common ground," Poppy said to Grace while glancing over her shoulder to see how Marcus and Oliver were getting along. It was very important to her that they could be in the same room and not kill one another.

"That's good!" Grace exclaimed happily. "So, how's it going with you two?"

"It's good. Everything's good," Poppy said, still trying to hear what was going on with Marcus and Oliver.

"That's it? You're giving me nothing after I've spent years telling you every little detail about my love life!" Grace complained.

Poppy turned her focus back to Grace, who was not looking too happy. "Some of it I could've lived without."

"Oh, come on! I heard you guys were caught rolling around the Quidditch pitch early one morning."

"What? Who told you that? It's not true!" Poppy shouted. These rumors were really starting to annoy her.

"I won't reveal my sources," Grace simply said.

"Grace!" Poppy insisted.

Grace crossed her arms and pouted her lips. Poppy reached over and pinched her arm, making Grace flinch. "Fine! It was Montague."

Poppy should've know. Montague was definitely the type to spread rumors around. "What were you doing talking to him?"

Grace twirled her short curls between her fingers. "I'm not going to tell you until you tell me everything."

"Fine. What do you want to know?" Poppy huffed.

Grace leaned in closer. "You've snogged him, right? I mean, after Christmas?"

"Yes, I have," Poppy said.

"And it's good?" Grace asked with her eyebrows lifted so high they almost touched her hair and her face practically an inch from Poppy's.

"Yes, it's very nice," Poppy said, still trying to glance over her shoulder. It looked as though Marcus and Oliver were actually laughing.

"You are so boring. Tell me more! Where are his hands? Where are your hands? What are your hands doing? Is he shirtless? Are you?" Grace started babbling and waving her hands.

"Oh, Merlin's beard! Nobody is shirtless. Why do you need to know this?" Poppy said, annoyed. Just because Grace shared every little detail of her life didn't mean Poppy should have to.

"So I can make sure he's treating you right. Why is he not shirtless? You've slept in the same bed when you were both half-naked," Grace asked with a pondering look, scrunching up her tiny nose.

"That's different," Poppy said quietly, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but she wasn't sure why.

Grace rolled her eyes. "Whatever, I don't get it."

"Well, you don't have to," Poppy remarked and quickly changed the subject. "Now tell me what you were doing talking to Graham!"

Grace put her elbows up on the table and leaned on her hands. "He's in my Charms class, you know that. We partnered up the other day to learn... Something. I can't remember what it was."

"I see you're still taking your education seriously," Poppy noted with half a smile. Occasionally, Grace did not fit the mould of a hard-working Hufflepuff. Grace had once said that when it was her turn, the Sorting Hat just picked a random house to get it over with. Allegedly, her sorting took twenty minutes, but Grace was known to embellish the truth a little bit.

"I am! Sometimes. Anyway, he just wanted to share the latest bit of information. He was also saying since I'm your friend and he's Marcus' friend, that he and I should be friends," Grace babbled on with excitement.

"They're not really friends, though," Poppy said.

Grace looked at Poppy's stern expression and tilted her head slightly to the right. "Does that mean I can't be his friend?"

Poppy shook her head lightly. "No. But I've warned you about him before."

Grace's brows furrowed at first but then she just rolled her eyes and smiled widely. "Oh, lighten up. It's harmless fun. I'm not looking for a future husband."

"Fine, it's your life."

"What's happening here?" Marcus asked, suddenly appearing beside Poppy.

"Grace wants to date Graham," Poppy said as Marcus sat down next to her.

Grace slammed her hand on the table. "Poppy! I don't! I mean, not date. Maybe just to pass the time."

"I would advise against it," Marcus said and Poppy looked at Grace with her best 'I told you so' face.

"You people have been together five seconds and suddenly you know everything," Grace snapped. Poppy had been expecting this to happen since the beginning of their conversation. Grace didn't like it when her actions were questioned, even with good reason.

"I know Graham Montague well enough to recommend you stay away from him, but other than that I know nothing," Marcus said calmly before Poppy had a chance to react.

Grace started waving her hands around again frantically. "Everybody at this school already knows everything I've ever done and when reality isn't enough, they make something up. So why does it matter who he tells? I've got nothing to hide."

"Alright. Go for it then," Marcus said and smiled. Poppy's jaw dropped slightly and she looked at Marcus, then at Grace and back at Marcus but said nothing.

"I will!" Grace said decisively and left the table in a hurry, shouting a quick goodbye when she went. Her smile as well as her 'bye' were clearly directed at Marcus and she barely even looked at Poppy.

Marcus gave Poppy a quick kiss on her cheek. "She's got a great attitude."

"Yes. And a lot of it," Poppy replied, grabbed a roll onto her plate and started shredding it into little pieces.

Marcus looked quizzically at what she was doing. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer but asked anyway. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Poppy lied.

"Did I do something?" he asked, pretty sure he knew the answer to this one. She was a bad liar.

Poppy put down the roll and looked him straight in the eye. "Well... Suddenly you're pro Graham?"

"I'm not. Grace just doesn't seem like she cares about what we think. And I think it's better to be supportive so you don't lose your friend. You don't have many," Marcus said.

"I have more than you!" Poppy snapped which made Marcus laugh. He agreed. Poppy continued, "I just don't want to see her hurt."

"He won't hurt her if she knows what she's getting into. And I think she's always been supportive of us, though I doubt she liked me very much in the beginning," Marcus said, while gently stroking her back. She leaned her head onto his shoulder.

"Okay, I get it. When did you get so smart?" she asked.

"Well, you see, I'm dating this incredibly clever girl and I have to keep up with her wit," he said jokingly, making Poppy laugh a little.

"What did you and Oliver talk about?" Poppy asked.

"Ah, it was more of a debate than a talk. About Quidditch, mostly," Marcus replied, not wanting to tell her about the end of their conversation.

"Who won?" Poppy asked excitedly, sitting back up. She was happy they'd managed not to get in a fight.

"Well, he had to go to practice, so I think I win by default but he did say this was not over yet, so I guess we'll find out at a later time," Marcus replied with a grin, only slightly modifying the truth. He figured she did not need to know absolutely everything.

After supper, Poppy went to look for Grace and found her in the Astronomy tower. Grace explained that her class had been cancelled because of cloudy skies and she'd stayed to get some studying done. Poppy sat down on the cold stone floor next to Grace. Grace was doodling on a small piece of parchment, ignoring her friend.

"Grace, I'm sorry for not being more supportive," Poppy started her apology.

Grace didn't even lift her eyes from the doodle that looked suspiciously like professor Snape in high heels. "You should be."

"I know. You've been a great friend while I've been dealing with this Marcus stuff and I've just been crummy to you," Poppy said. Grace glanced at her sideways.

"Yes. Keep going," she said and stopped drawing.

"If you want to do whatever with Graham, I promise to support you," Poppy continued.

"Well, thank you," Grace responded, lifting her head and directing her eyes towards Poppy. Her lips curved into a small crooked smile.

"And also, I'm sorry for not telling you everything," Poppy said.

"You mean about the snogging?" Grace asked, taken aback slightly.

"Yes. It's just... Oh, this is so stupid."

"Tell me!"

Poppy bit her lip. "Well, you see, you've done all this stuff and had many boyfriends and I don't know. I guess I'm not ready for all that."

"You know I haven't done half the stuff people say I've done?" Grace asked in an annoyed tone.

"I know. But when you keep asking me why Marcus has his shirt on while we snog it just feels as though I'm doing something wrong," Poppy said with a frown on her face.

"Oh, no," Grace said and pulled Poppy in for a hug. "I was just asking, since you've already slept in the same bed with him and you were both half-naked."

"But that's different. I was sleeping. And I see him shirtless all the time and that's fine. I don't know. I'm not like you," Poppy said as as Grace let go.

Grace pondered for a while, trying to read Poppy's sad face. Her face lit up. "Oh, I get it! You think that once his shirt comes off, yours should too?"

"That is a definite worry of mine, yes," Poppy said, still frowning.

Grace shook her head as she spoke. "Oh, Poppy! You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I know that! But isn't it silly if he's half-naked and I'm fully-clothed?" Poppy asked.

"No, of course not! Next time, just take off his shirt, enjoy what Quidditch can do to a man's body, and hold onto your own clothes. And promise to tell me everything!" Grace flashed a big smile and winked. Poppy giggled.

"I promise," Poppy said. Grace could always cheer her up.

"I'm not going to judge you for going slow. You do what you got to do," Grace said.

"What are you going to do about Graham?" Poppy asked.

"I might not do anything. I'll let him do all the work," Grace said and started gathering her things. It seemed the only thing she got done while supposedly studying was three parchment scraps full of doodles.

"How old-fashioned of you," Poppy said, getting up from the floor. She reached out her hand to help Grace.

"I know!"

Chapter Text

The following week Graham Montague was caught kissing Grace Middlemore in an empty classroom. Professor Flitwick had not noticed that they stayed behind as the rest of the class left for lunch and caught them when he came back with his next class. He quickly sent them away while deducting points from both their houses. The first years that also witnessed the event had already spread their own versions around the school.

"I'm actually glad they were first years. Eleven-year-olds can't make up very sensational stories," Grace said to Poppy as they were studying in the library, a day after the event. Grace was working on an essay for Charms that professor Flitwick had ordered both her and Graham to do in order to make up for their inappropriate behaviour, and Poppy was studying for a Transfiguration quiz that professor McGonagall had hinted would be coming soon.

"I heard when they caught you, you were wearing his shirt," Poppy said, raising an eyebrow. Grace grinned widely.

"Well, when we heard someone come in, I grabbed the first thing I could find and threw it on. I didn't want them to see me in my bra," she explained and pulled out a handful of sweets from her pocket. She tossed them on the table.

Poppy grabbed one of the sweets, unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth. It turned out to be chocolate with caramel inside. "I thought they made that part up."

"No, all true," Grace said while adding another sentence to her almost finished essay.

"Alright. How was he?" Poppy asked, trying to be more supportive of Grace's new conquest. She was still skeptical of the whole thing and sure that some day someone would get hurt.

"He was impressive," Grace replied with a wink.

"Worth writing an extra essay for?"

"Oh, definitely."

Poppy had no idea how Grace could do it. She and Marcus had been snogging every chance they got, though there weren't many. They would snog in the locker rooms after Quidditch practice before breakfast and sometimes they'd skip eating and spend their lunch break in Marcus's dormitory. After classes and before supper their common room and the dormitory were always swarming with students so there wasn't any chance for privacy. She wasn't one for public displays of affection that went further than a quick kiss, a hug or hand holding. The idea of getting caught by a professor, or anyone for that matter, mortified Poppy but to Grace it was just another Wednesday.

So far, Marcus's shirt had been firmly on him. Poppy had tried following Grace's advice but her hands just wouldn't grab his shirt when they should have. She was beginning to wonder about her motor skills. Poppy was also slightly worried that after Marcus said he loved her, he had not said anything about it again. She had come to the conclusion that maybe he was just waiting for her to say it back, but whole thing was causing her to almost break out in hives. She had even asked Grace for help on how to know if you love someone, but Grace turned out to be no help at all. It wasn't surprising, really, but Poppy didn't exactly have anyone else to ask.

The next morning Poppy and Marcus had Quidditch practice. It went quite well, Poppy thought. She noticed that Malfoy seemed to have an actual confidence in his skills. It was refreshing after watching him fake being sure of himself for so long. Adrian was not at the top of his game, he was sluggish and also very quiet. He had been this way for some time now. Poppy had also noticed that when she and Marcus got together, Adrian completely stopped talking to her.

"Alright, team, that was... Definitely something," Marcus said as the team gathered in the middle of the field. It was raining, so practice had not been fun for anyone.

"Well, I think it went marvelously," Montague chimed in cheerfully.

Marcus shot him a mean look. "Nobody cares what you think, Graham."

"Even so, we're more than ready to face Hufflepuff. I mean, it's Hufflepuff," Graham said mockingly and rolled his eyes. Malfoy laughed.

"You should focus your energy on actually getting the quaffle through the rings and not on running your mouth," Marcus said, raising his voice slightly.

"But I-"

"Shut up. Pucey, you need to stop moping around and play the bloody game, you're useless! I can easily find a replacement for you," Marcus said, turning towards Adrian. Adrian didn't even look like he was listening and just stared ahead.

"Malfoy, you're too slow. Stop worrying about what everyone else is doing and focus on that snitch. If you don't catch it, we're dead meat," Marcus said to Malfoy, grinding his teeth a little. Poppy knew that both Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter were better seekers than Draco and Marcus considered him the weakest on the team. Thankfully, he was getting better. Marcus turned to Poppy.

"Poppy, your left hand is much slower than your right. Fix it," he said. Poppy nodded, knowing he was right. He really knew what he was talking about when it came to Quidditch. "Now everybody, we'll pick up where we left off tomorrow. Same time."

The team trekked towards the locker rooms, absolutely exhausted from practice. As the boys changed clothes and Poppy was taking a shower, some of the players were whispering to each other. Marcus noticed them huddled over in the corner. "What are you halfwits babbling about over there?"

"It's nothing," Malfoy said quickly.

"No, it's not nothing. I heard you say Poppy's name."

Malfoy and Graham froze up. Derrick had also been a part of their secret conversation but he quickly shuffled to the other side of the room when Marcus started asking questions. Malfoy nudged Graham's arm.

"Alright, I'll speak for the whole team," Graham announced. Marcus looked around, glaring at every team member. Derrick quickly shifted his gaze towards the roof. Bole shrugged. Adrian was still changing his clothes and didn't even notice. Malfoy tried to hide behind Graham. "We think she's getting special treatment."

"She's not, end of discussion," Marcus said.

"But you complain about everything we do and she gets nothing but praise," Graham whined. Malfoy nodded along.

Marcus sighed. "When you learn to play as well as her, I'll treat you the same way."

"But I-"

"End of discussion."

Marcus knew he wasn't treating Poppy exactly like the others. Of course he wasn't. If he spoke to her the way he spoke to them, she'd hex him straight to the hospital wing. But he wasn't going to let anybody suggest he was going easy on her, or not being as demanding with her. But the truth was, he didn't have to be. Poppy knew what Marcus wanted done and just did it. No complaints, no questions asked.

"What's going on?" Poppy asked, emerging from the shower area already dressed. The room was awfully quiet.

"They think you're getting special treatment," Marcus said and gestured towards Graham and Malfoy.

"What? Are you crazy? If I was getting special treatment, first thing I'd want would be to not wake up before dawn every bloody morning," Poppy said to the boys who were looking sheepishly at her. "You know, Victoria from my dormitory suggested that now that I have a man, I can quit pretending I like Quidditch."

"What's your point?" Graham asked.

"You should meet her, I think you'd be good mates," Poppy said.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Graham said. Malfoy muttered something resembling an apology. Under his breath, Graham added, "Malfoy started it, though."

Malfoy punched him in the arm. Everyone started gathering their things and leaving for the castle. Marcus and Poppy stalled. Marcus spent a whole minute putting on one sock.

"Are you coming?" Graham asked when everyone else had already left.

Marcus looked around the room, scouring over every inch. "I think I left my broom on the pitch. Poppy, could you help me look for it?"

"You already used that excuse on Monday," Graham quipped from the door.

"What?" Marcus asked.

"Oh, nothing. Tomorrow maybe you can forget to lock up the bludgers again and spend an hour hunting them down," Graham said while rolling his eyes.

"I think they're onto us," Marcus said when Graham was out the door. Poppy smiled widely. They were not exactly being subtle, staying behind after every practice.

Marcus walked towards her and grabbed her waist, pulling her body closer. He moved one hand to her neck and bent down to kiss her. The changing room was not the most romantic environment for this, but when Marcus kissed Poppy, she forgot all about where they were. Her hands reached for the hem of his shirt and even slid under to touch his back, but then she stopped abruptly and pulled away.

Marcus looked at her with worry. "What's wrong?"

Poppy hesitated, biting her lip. "I want you to take your shirt off."

"Alright," he said and pulled his shirt off. That was easy, Poppy thought.

"But I'm going to keep mine on," she said, eyeing his toned upper body.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Alright."

"Is that okay?" Poppy asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Marcus replied.

Poppy shook her head and looked around the room. "Uh, I don't know."

"Have I done something?" he asked. Poppy looked in his eyes.

"No! You've been great," she said.

"Good. I mean, I've been really enjoying this and I'd hate to think you hadn't."

Poppy's cheeks flushed. She looked down at her shoes. They used to be white. Now they were a muddy grey colour. Maybe there was a spell to clean them.

Marcus moved closer again, snapping Poppy out of her thoughts. He grabbed her chin and gently pulled her head up. "Do you know why I picked you for the team?"

"Because I wouldn't let you say no?" Poppy said. She was familiar with the story.

Marcus nodded and grabbed her hand into his bigger one. "Exactly. You spoke your mind and stood up to me. You've never had a problem telling me anything, so why are you suddenly so quiet?"

"I'm just... Nervous," she explained.

"Why? You've seen me without my shirt before," he said.

"But you've never seen me!"

"Ah."

Poppy tried to avoid his gaze but he wouldn't let her. Wherever she tried to look, his face appeared. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it. I am a man, after all and I'm usually not a very patient guy."

"I know." Poppy worried about where this was going. His face gave no indication. She bit her lip.

"But I can wait." He smiled just wide enough that she saw his slightly crooked teeth. Poppy breathed out in relief and wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his bare chest. He returned the hug and kissed the top of her head. "You know, all this talking made me hungry. You want breakfast?"

"Breakfast sounds good," Poppy replied and let go of him. He put his shirt back on along with his other sock and shoes. They left the changing room and Marcus held Poppy's hand all the way to The Great Hall.

"At lunch I'll take you to my dorm and you can rip off my shirt, if you want," he said midway. She tried not to blush.

Transfiguration with Ravenclaws was Poppy's last class before lunch. Professor McGonagall held the quiz she had hinted at. While she was grading their answers, she had ordered the class to get started on their essays. The subject was the morality of using spells to alter one's appearance. Though the subject was interesting, Poppy found herself doodling Mrs Poppy Flint in the corner of her notes. Victoria was sitting right behind her and leaned forward to peek over Poppy's shoulder.

"It's sweet. Your very first boyfriend and you're already planning a wedding," Victoria said in a whispering tone.

"Don't get too attached, love," Becky chimed in from the seat in front of Poppy.

"Once he's playing for some big team, he'll have a lady for each finger," Mary said.

"You three seem to really enjoy the sound of your own voices," Poppy hissed back.

"Girls, quiet now!" Professor McGonagall bellowed. The Ravenclaw girls sitting left from Poppy looked at her and the others, turned up their noses and flicked back their hair. Poppy went back to her essay while Victoria, Mary and Becky continued whispering about her. Poppy hoped Sirius Black would come running through the door just to give them something else to talk about.

Class ended and Poppy raced outside. And there he was, just as he'd promised to be, waiting for her outside her classroom. She rushed over to him and he extended his hand to carry her book bag. He bent down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, right by her ear. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine. "Hey, beautiful."

Poppy didn't have a chance to say anything when her favourite group of giggling girls arrived, led by Victoria. "Oh look, it's Mr and Mrs Flint!"

Marcus shot them a quick glance while scrunching up his face but ignored them and turned back to his girlfriend. "How was class? Did you learn anything?"

Poppy was about to answer but she was cut off by Becky's shrill voice. "Nope! She was too busy planning your wedding!"

"Really?" Marcus looked at Poppy with intrigue. She shook her head and raised her shoulders while mumbling something incoherent. He turned to Becky with a fake smile. "I guess you would know."

"Huh?"

"Your wedding plans were probably done by, what, your third birthday?" Marcus asked mockingly. "Who's the lucky guy, your cousin? First, second or third?"

Becky and the others were dumbfounded. Poppy could almost see the wheels slowly starting to turn in their heads. Their faces turned red and Becky was about to blow up but Victoria held her back. When Victoria finally spoke, her voice had no emotion, yet her eyes dug into Poppy's. "Quite a gentleman you have there."

Poppy simply rolled her eyes at the girls as Marcus laughed. He extended his arm and Poppy took it. "Shall we go?"

"You don't want to know what that was?" Poppy asked as they walked towards the dungeons.

"I know what it was. Mean girls being mean."

Poppy was surprised he didn't want to know more, but mostly she was happy. She didn't want to tell him what she'd been writing. It was embarrassing, something a young school girl would do. Poppy had always considered herself older than she actually was and she felt Marcus did, too.

When they entered the common room, a few first years who had been studying by the fireplace quickly gathered their things and scattered away.

"My reputation proceeds me," Marcus said with a wink.

With his hand on Poppy's lower back, he guided her to the steps leading down to his dormitory. Inside, he plopped her book bag on the floor next to his trunk. It made a loud thumping sound. Marcus took off his shoes and sat on his bed. Poppy followed.

"So, did you learn anything in class?" Marcus repeated his question from earlier.

"I got a perfect score on my Transfiguration quiz," Poppy replied with a smile.

Her blonde hair was in a ponytail but the shorter parts at the front were just tucked behind her ears. A strand fell and Marcus reached to sweep it back. While doing so his hand grazed her cheek. He stared into her green eyes and she felt herself blushing yet again. He leaned in for a kiss and didn't stop at just one. He smelled like grass and tasted of waffles.

He gently pushed her so she was laying on the bed and positioned himself right beside her. His kisses became more and more intense. His rough hands wandered from her waist to her back and then into her hair. He grabbed her ponytail and took off her hair tie, throwing it on the floor. He ran his fingers through her long hair and lightly caressed her neck. His touch made her quiver as she reached her hands around his neck and grabbed his shirt, taking it off.

She ran her fingers across his spine gently before grabbing his sturdy arms. She wondered how he was still tan when it was already halfway through March and the sun had not shown its face in months. He moved to kiss her neck. Feeling his warm breath by her ear, she grabbed his hair and wrapped her leg around his. In one quick swoop, he pulled her on top of himself. Her hair fell around his face as she cupped it with both hands and leaned in to kiss him.

As their lips parted, Poppy opened her eyes and sat up with her knees on the bed. Realising that Marcus was now literally between her legs made her slightly uneasy but he didn't seem to notice. He smiled up at her. "Where'd you go?"

"I need to breathe," she said with a grin while drawing circles with her finger on his stomach. He put his hands behind his head as she explored the contours of his chest. If someone had told her at the beginning of term, that seven months later she would be Marcus Flint's girlfriend, she would've hexed them for suggesting something so awful, but here she was.

Being Marcus Flint's girlfriend had many perks. Her confidence had skyrocketed to new heights thanks to his constant compliments and inability to keep his hands to himself, which lead to kissing and touching and all these amazing things that Poppy had previously only heard about that sent tingling sensations through her whole body. She always thought Grace was exaggerating about these things, but apparently she wasn't.

She looked up. His eyes were closed but hearing her voice, he opened them. "I'm done breathing."

He grinned. "Alright. Shall we continue?"

She shrieked as he grabbed her by the hips and threw her onto the other side of the bed. And there it was again, that lovely tingly feeling. She didn't know if it was love or simply lust, like Grace had suggested, making Poppy embarrassed about the whole conversation, but it was a great feeling nonetheless.

Chapter Text

"This is usually not how I want to spend my Friday nights," Graham Montague said in a whiny voice. Poppy rolled her eyes and Marcus shot him a mean look to try and shut him up. The whole Quidditch team had gathered in the Slytherin common room to talk strategy for their game against Hufflepuff the next day. Marcus stood in front of the fireplace, trying to show some of his sketches but nobody seemed to care. Graham was fiddling in his seat while Derrick and Bole were almost drifting off to sleep on the couch. Malfoy sat on the floor next to Poppy, writing a Potions essay. Adrian was in an armchair with his legs slung over the arm reading his Arithmancy book.

Bole was awakened by Graham's voice. "Do you have a new girl, Montague?"

"You could say that," Graham replied with a toothy grin.

Marcus snapped his fingers. "Can you idiots focus for one second? Now, as I was saying-"

"So, it's true? You're dating that filthy mudblood?" Malfoy piped up from the floor with his signature sneer on his face.

"Excuse me? She happens to be my best friend!" Poppy shouted. She wanted to slap the smug look off of Malfoy's face but contained herself. Graham's grin quickly vanished.

"Well, I don't expect much from you. But Graham, honestly, what would your parents say?" Malfoy drawled.

"Probably something much nicer than yours," Graham said through gritted teeth, got up from his seat and approached Malfoy threateningly.

Malfoy got up and stood merely an inch away from Graham. He looked up at the taller boy. "I've met your parents. They're not going to accept this."

Malfoy's lip quivered slightly as Graham's hand formed a fist. "Accept what? I'm not marrying her!"

"Both of you, shut up and sit down!" Marcus yelled. His deep, raspy voice bellowed over the common room. Graham uncurled his fingers. Malfoy took a step back.

"Yes, listen to Marcus Flint. He's perfect," Adrian said dryly, not even glancing up from his book.

Marcus turned to Adrian. "What the hell did you say?"

Adrian rolled his eyes and got up from his chair. He left the common room without a word. Marcus signalled Poppy to go after him. She ran through the door, located him and shouted his name while stomping his way. He stopped and turned around.

"What is your problem?" Poppy asked, raising her voice slightly. She was getting really sick and tired of Adrian moping around.

"You really don't know? Guess," Adrian said monotonously.

"You're mad because I didn't pick you." Poppy didn't really want to say it, but she didn't know what else he could be mad about.

Adrian shook his head. "No. Because you picked him."

"That's the same thing," Poppy said, utterly confused.

Adrian sighed. "It's not. I don't care if you don't want me, but you could do better."

Poppy looked at his blank, emotionless face and it made her irrationally angry. He was mad, clearly, but instead of yelling or actually arguing, he seemed indifferent. "How is this any of your business?"

"He might've gone soft temporarily, but the old Marcus Flint will be back. You'll see," Adrian said matter-of-factly.

"Shut up, Adrian," Poppy snapped.

Adrian's face stayed blank. "Fine, I'll stop caring about what happens to you. You can do whatever you want."

"Good."

"I used to think you were smart," Adrian hollered after her as Poppy turned on her heels and started marching back.

She stopped and turned around. "And I used to think you were a nice guy."

She had just gotten Oliver to accept Marcus, or at least begin to accept him, she wasn't about to go over all that again with Adrian. Who was he to stick his nose in her life? They weren't even really friends.

"Adrian Pucey is an utter moron," Poppy said as she entered the common room again. It was nearly empty. "Where is everybody?"

"Graham punched Malfoy so I told them to bugger off," Marcus replied from the couch.

"Good. He deserved it." Poppy sat next to him and he wrapped his arm around her. Poppy snuggled up close to his chest.

"So, you hate Adrian?" Marcus asked. Poppy murmured something resembling a yes. "And Graham hates Malfoy."

"And Adrian hates you," Poppy added.

"What a great team we make. Tomorrow's going to be fantastic."

The game against Hufflepuff was over before it even really began. The Slytherin team crushed their opponent by scoring five goals in the time Hufflepuff scored one. Malfoy caught the Snitch before Cedric Diggory and that was it. Poppy barely even broke a sweat during the game. She had hoped to play a little longer to prepare for next months game against Gryffindor. Because they beat Hufflepuff with such good points, they would be playing Gryffindor for this years championship which meant that Poppy would be playing her own brother for the title that he'd wanted to win so badly ever since she could remember.

As Poppy and Marcus exited the changing room after the game, they found Grace waiting for them.

"Congrats," she said sarcastically and rolled her eyes.

Poppy laughed and went to hug her friend. "Thanks. And sorry."

They were just about to leave, when Graham emerged from the changing room. He seemed surprised to see Grace but his expression quickly turned smug. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you waiting for me?"

Grace shook her head and let out a chuckle. "Not exactly."

Poppy saw a flash of disappointment on Graham's face but it quickly vanished. He approached Grace with a smile on his face. "Well, do you want to come celebrate with me?"

"We just lost," Grace replied and swatted away his hand when he tried to grab hers.

Graham seemed determined not to give up. "I can comfort you."

Grace hesitated. When Graham flashed a big smile and threw in a little wink, Poppy knew her friend was weak at the knees.

"Just go. We've got a party to go to anyway," Poppy said.

Graham's eyes lit up and he grabbed Grace's hand.

"I'll see you later!" Grace shouted as they skipped off towards the castle. Poppy waved and watched them go. Marcus held out his arm and she took it.

They arrived to the Slytherin common room only to find it packed to the brim with people. Malfoy stood in the middle of a huge group of students, telling the story of how he outsmarted Cedric Diggory and caught the Snitch first. Pansy stood next to him, fluttering her eyelashes and squeeling at every single part of the story. Malfoy made the whole thing sound very dramatic but Poppy, having witnessed the event, had a different version of the story. She had seen Malfoy hovering on his broom, eyes fixed so intently on the whereabouts of Diggory that he almost missed the Snitch when it passed right by his ear. Thankfully he heard the fluttering sound it makes and located it, but very little skill was involved in this marvelous feat.

Poppy and Marcus stood by the door, watching as the crowd cheered when Malfoy finished his story. They had not been spotted by the crowd yet. Poppy saw Adrian leaning on the wall, sipping pumpkin juice. Derrick and Bole were chatting up a couple of girls.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Poppy asked quietly.

"Definitely," Marcus replied.

They snuck out and headed for the lake. Poppy thanked Marcus for agreeing to leave. Celebrating Malfoy was not something either of them wanted to do. They walked around the lake. Marcus held Poppy's hand and when she shivered, he wrapped his arm around her. When she shivered even more, he pulled out a small piece of grey fabric and touched his wand to it. It grew to be a big, soft, woolly blanket, big enough for the two of them. He wrapped it around Poppy and himself and found a big rock for them to sit on.

"I still can't believe our dormitories are somewhere under there," Poppy said, gesturing towards the lake.

"I can. The Giant Squid sometimes knocks into my window when I'm trying to sleep," Marcus replied. Poppy chuckled. The Squid had also made an appearance in her window once or twice, and she often relaxed by listening to the sounds of water while in bed.

"But still, it's really weird."

Poppy leaned her head against Marcus's shoulder and looked out on to the lake. She remembered crossing it by boat on her very first day at Hogwarts and how scared she'd been. It seemed silly now.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked after they'd sat in silence for a while. She lifted her head and looked straight into his eyes.

"Sure," Marcus said with half a smile.

Poppy hesitated. She had been wanting to ask him about his family for the longest time and thought it weird he never mentioned them. After Oliver told her about Marcus's father, she understood it might not have been something he wanted to discuss. But she wanted to know everything about him. "You never talk about your family."

"That's not a question," Marcus said. To Poppy's surprise, his smile didn't fade.

"Well, could you? Talk?"

Marcus shared the story of his family, though he suspected Poppy already knew some of it. He told her how his mother died giving birth to him and how his father changed from a man that had been expecting a child with the woman he loved to a man whose wife was killed by said child. He blamed Marcus for everything and since he never heard otherwise, Marcus began to believe it, too. For a while, he believed that every beating he took was deserved. He learned quickly not to talk back to his father and to behave well.

When Marcus turned eleven, he got his Hogwarts letter. He started school as a scrawny little boy who just wanted to get good grades and not bother anybody. During his first week, he came down with a cold. Madam Pomfrey examined him and found the bruises from his latest beating as well as old scars all over his body along with fractures that never healed right. He was sent to have a word with Headmaster Dumbledore.

"My dear boy, you had nothing to do with the death of your mother," Professor Dumbledore said after Marcus explained to him what was happening back home. "Losing a loved one is a terrible thing. It can make people do dreadful things to themselves or others. Just remember, you are not to blame."

He didn't know if it was Dumbledore's calming voice or the fact that he looked to be at least a hundred years old and thus, all-knowing, but something inside Marcus clicked. Free from his father, he quickly learned to talk back to anyone that tried to put him down. He forgot about his grades.

"In hindsight, that was a bad idea," he said to Poppy, who was still listening intently. She let out a small laugh, even though only thirty seconds earlier she had been wiping away tears from her eyes.

Marcus continued his story. During his second year, he tried out for the position of beater on the Quidditch team, and though he was still scrawny, imagining the bludger was his father's head gave him enough strength to make the team. A year later, he was made a chaser. His father never appreciated the sport, even when Marcus made captain in his fifth year. He was simply disappointed that Marcus was not a Prefect.

"And, well, you already know I left home at seventeen," Marcus finished his story and looked into her eyes, as if to see if she'd been scared off by it.

"I'm finding it hard to picture you as a scrawny eleven-year-old," Poppy said with a smile.

"I was almost as short then as you are now," Marcus teased.

Poppy wrapped her dainty hand around his. "Thank you for telling me all this."

"Some day you'll tell me about your family?" Marcus asked.

"I've told you everything worth telling," Poppy said, shook her head a little and shrugged. There wasn't much to say about her family.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Your father left, your mother is bonkers. That's everything?"

"Yes."

"Well, what do you mean by bonkers?" Marcus asked.

Poppy took a deep breath and shifted a little in her seat. This was not her favourite topic. "You know. Bonkers. Stare at the wall for hours, leave your home for days on end, forget you have children, throw pots and pans at your children when you see them and think they're intruders and sleep for three days straight or don't sleep for a whole week kind of bonkers."

Marcus stared at her as she looked out onto the lake again. He hesitated before speaking again. "Where is she now?"

"St. Mungo's," Poppy said, looking down at her feet. "Oliver thinks I don't know."

"Why would he keep that a secret?" Marcus asked and wrapped his arm around her even tighter.

Poppy could feel a tear forming in her eye but she forced it back by tightly closing her eyelids. She looked up at him. "Because he thinks I hate her and doesn't want to talk about her."

Marcus studied her expression intently. "Do you hate her?"

"I do. But inside, she's still my mum. And I love my mum."

Marcus didn't know what to say, so he simply wrapped his other arm around her too and hugged her tightly. He wondered how she grew up to be so normal.

In the weeks leading up to the Quidditch Championship game between Gryffindor and Slytherin, everybody was on edge. Oliver was often seen scribbling new Quidditch plays into his napkins while the rest of his team avoided him outside of practice the best they could. Graham had recruited Grace to help deal with the massive amounts of pressure and they were spotted on numerous occasions heading for an empty broom cupboard.

It seemed the pressure had not gotten to Marcus until one night, after practice, Marcus and Poppy stayed behind to actually go over their strategies but when Poppy got up from the bench they sat on to grab her sweater, Marcus suddenly jumped up and pulled her very close. He kissed her and it was nothing like their kisses before. Their kisses were intense, the kind that left Poppy gasping for breath, but this one was angry, hard, rough even. He picked her up by her waist, and Poppy, caught off-guard by what was happening, decided to just go with it and simply wrapped her legs around him as he slammed her back against the nearest wall. His lips made their way down her neck and back up again. She gently bit on his lip while he slid his hand under her shirt, running his fingers softly against her stomach and up until he reached the edge of her bra. Feeling the lacy fabric snapped Marcus out of what he was doing. He stopped kissing her and simply looked into her eyes with a face that looked surprised and also as though he didn't know whether to apologize or keep going.

Poppy didn't have a chance to do anything as they were interrupted by a gasp. Marcus turned his head to see the person behind the noise. Percy Weasley. Poppy unwrapped her legs quickly.

"What are you doing here?" Marcus asked angrily while letting go of Poppy. She felt her cheeks flushing as she straightened her shirt and tried to smooth down her messy hair.

Percy eyed them head to toe from behind his glasses and crossed his arms. "I am Head Boy. What are you doing here?"

"Quidditch practice," Marcus said.

Percy tapped on his watch. "The time you booked ended fifteen minutes ago. You need to return to the castle."

Marcus remained calm and didn't even protest when Percy followed them the whole way to the dungeons. Poppy was impressed.

"That little git, the power's gone straight to his head," Marcus growled when they arrived at the door and Percy finally left them alone. Poppy laughed and then turned to the wall to speak the password. The wall opened to reveal the passage to the Slytherin common room.

"I'm sorry. About what happened," Marcus said.

"What?" Poppy asked, trying to remember what he had to apologise for.

"I probably made you uncomfortable." Marcus spoke quietly.

"Oh, that. Actually, I didn't mind," Poppy said casually. During their walk, she had figured that if Percy hadn't walked in, she probably would've let Marcus finish what he started. She didn't tell him that, though. Not talking too much, like she'd done before, and just rolling with it seemed to be working alright.

"Uh, alright. That's good. It's all good." He stumbled over his words a little. Poppy simply smiled and grabbed his hand to pull him in to the passageway.

Percy Weasley finished his Head Boy duties shortly after escorting Poppy and Marcus to the dungeons and headed for the Gryffindor Tower, where he spotted Oliver lounging by the fire, following the game of Wizard's Chess Fred and George were playing next to him. Percy sat down on the red armchair next to Oliver's. He spoke in hushed tones. "I caught your sister and Flint in the changing rooms after curfew."

"Oh?" Oliver asked, fixated on the game. Fred was having a fight with one of his Knights.

Percy leaned in closer. "It's a good thing I walked in before it went any further. His hands were crawling all over her, I think he was about to take off her-"

Oliver jumped up from his seat. "Percy!"

"What?" Percy asked.

"I don't want to hear this!" Oliver shouted. Percy opened his mouth to apologise but Oliver turned around to head for his dormitory, muttering something and shaking his head as he walked.

"You can tell us," Fred said.

"We'd love to hear more," George continued.

Chapter Text

That Thursday morning, the very next day after her and Marcus's sort of humiliating moment with the pompous Percy Weasley, Poppy had a very nice lesson in Muggle Studies. It was one of her favourite subjects, partly because Muggles were really interesting and partly because the only other Slytherin in the class was a boy that never spoke two words to anybody. She also had a double lesson of Herbology, where she was forced to listen to Cho Chang gossiping to her friend, Marietta. The hottest topics of the moment seemed to be Grace and Graham, the upcoming Quidditch match and the mysterious and frequent absences of Professor Lupin.

As two of the three topics at least partly concerned her, Poppy could only hope the girls would not drag her into the conversation. When Cho motioned for her to come closer, she knew all hope had been lost. Poppy grabbed the Flutterby bush she'd been pruning, and moved to the other side of the table they had all been working on.

"What do you want?" Poppy blurted out bluntly. Cho was not her friend and had been quite unpleasant to her in the past. Poppy noticed Cho and Marietta's Flutterby bush had been pruned all wrong. The small branches were beginning to curl inwards. Poppy cringed while looking at it. Noticing her, Marietta quickly grabbed small scissors from the table and started hacking away.

Cho flipped back her long black hair and rolled her eyes. "You don't have to be so rude. I just have some questions."

"Fine. Ask." Poppy reached for her own scissors, held a branch between her fingers and made a cut. Perfect, diagonal and carefully planned out. Marietta shot her a mean look.

Cho yanked the scissors from Marietta's hands. "What is your friend doing with that Montague boy?"

Poppy turned to look at Cho and shrugged. "Whatever she wants, probably."

"So, they're not serious?" Cho asked, trying to sound casual but her face gave away her eagerness.

Poppy's lips curved into a smile. "Are you interested in him or something?"

Cho rolled her eyes again and scoffed. "No."

As Poppy studied Cho's expression, from the corner of her eye she noticed a slight blush appearing on Marietta's cheeks. When Poppy turned to look at her, Marietta quickly turned away, knocking down their Flutterby bush.

"She seems to be," Poppy said as Marietta cleaned up. Cho's upper lip twitched as she looked from Poppy to Marietta and back again.

"You can go now," Cho said firmly. Poppy flashed a big smile before retreating to the other end of the greenhouse.

After Herbology, it was lunch time. Arriving in the Great Hall, Poppy saw that Marcus wasn't there yet but she spotted Grace, who was motioning for her to come over.

"You're such a slag!" Grace shouted, beaming like a crazy person, as Poppy sat down next to her.

"Am not! What are you talking about?" Poppy said quietly, trying to make Grace quiet down a little. A few Hufflepuffs were giving them weird looks.

Grace leaned in closer. "Fred and George told me what happened last night."

"Fred and George?" What did Fred and George Weasley have to do with anything? How, and most importantly what, did they know?

"Yes. They're in my Potions class. I'm so proud of you, you little trollop!" Grace smiled widely. Poppy looked puzzled but Grace read her mind and answered her question before she even asked. "Percy told Oliver and they overheard."

"Oliver knows?" Poppy could at least take comfort in the fact that Percy had probably not twisted the story in any way, but it was a small comfort.

"Yes, but who cares?" Grace asked.

"I care! I don't want him to know about these things!"

Poppy didn't even care if the rest of the school found out or made up their own versions, but she didn't want Oliver to know. She had seen him cringing at her and Marcus just for holding hands.

"You're freaking out over nothing. It's not like you were naked," Grace said.

Poppy sighed and shook her head, making Grace respond by rolling her eyes. Knowing Grace probably wouldn't understand, Poppy decided to change the subject. "Marietta Edgecombe seems to be interested in Graham."

"Who?" Grace asked, scrunching up her face.

"Cho Chang's friend. You know her. She has reddish, curly hair," Poppy explained as Grace nodded along, trying to place a face to a name.

"Oh, yeah. Why should I care?" Grace asked.

"They were asking me if you're serious with him. They might try to break you up."

Grace let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. "We're not dating. Graham is perfectly free to snog all the girls he wants."

Poppy studied Grace's nonchalant expression. "Has he?"

"Don't know, don't care. You can tell that girl to go for it," Grace said with a shrug.

Poppy tilted her head to the left, trying to see if Grace was just bluffing. Grace remained unflappable. "I might never understand you."

"I wonder what she sees in him, though," Grace wondered while she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Probably the same as everyone else. Good looks, rich family."

Marcus never arrived to lunch. Poppy was about to head to her next class when she spotted Oliver rushing out of the Great Hall. She ran after him, calling his name. He stopped and then turned around with a quizzical look.

"Oliver! I know Percy told you," Poppy said before she even reached him.

Oliver's brows furrowed and he shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"What?" Poppy asked, taken aback by his response.

"I can't remember Percy telling me anything," Oliver said, looking her straight in the eyes.

Poppy searched her brothers eyes to see if it was true. She couldn't tell. Did the many bludgers he'd taken to the head finally catch up to him? "You're joking? Last night?"

"Poppy! I don't remember. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not important," Oliver said, this time slightly more pressing.

She knew from his voice not to push the matter. Oliver had decided to live in denial and maybe it would be for the best. Poppy didn't even have a chance to finish that thought when a familiar voice snapped her out of it.

"I missed lunch? Bloody hell!" Marcus called out as he stomped towards them and peered into the Great Hall to see the giant platters of food disappearing.

"Where were you?" Poppy asked.

Marcus turned to her, about to say something but glanced over to Oliver and closed his mouth again. He hesitated. "I had some Quidditch related matters to tend to." Poppy knew he was lying.

"Should be a great game," Oliver piped up.

"We'll see," Poppy said with a shrug.

Oliver tilted his head and looked at his sister with a warm smile. "I have complete confidence in you, sis. You were trained by the best."

"Why thank you," Marcus said, puffing up his chest.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I meant myself."

Oliver headed to class, leaving Poppy to think about his kind words but her mind quickly wandered back to Marcus. "Why did you lie about where you were?"

"I didn't," he insisted. Poppy crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side and gave him a stern look. He caved. "I went to tell that tosser Weasley to stop running his mouth around the school."

"You beat him up?" Poppy asked, nearly shouting the words.

Marcus shook his head. "Of course not! I would be banned from playing! I'm not completely daft."

"I know." She let her arms fall back to her sides.

"And it turns out, it wasn't even him." He ran his hand through his hair.

Poppy smiled. "I know." Marcus looked at her with a question mark on his face before letting out a small laugh.

"You should get to class," he said.

The next Saturday, on the morning of the big game against Gryffindor, the Slytherin Quidditch team assembled in their changing room. They were mostly in good spirits, having had a succesful practice the night before, but the mood was still tense. As Poppy adjusted her arm guards, she saw Adrian motioning from across the room. They hadn't spoken in two weeks. Poppy got up from the bench and walked over.

"What do you want?" she asked, sounding slightly more annoyed than she wanted to.

Adrian was taken aback. "To apologise."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry for calling you stupid," Adrian said, rubbing the back of his neck. He really did look sorry.

"It's fine, you were mad," Poppy said with a hint of a smile. She wasn't the type to hold grudges for long and she was somewhat lacking in the friends department, meaning she couldn't afford to lose any. "I'm sorry for suggesting you're still pining after me."

She'd had two weeks to try and figure out why exactly Adrian was acting the way he was. She couldn't quite pinpoint the reason but she knew it probably wasn't due to his undying love for her. The whole idea seemed ridiculous as she usually wasn't the self-involved type.

The corners of Adrian's mouth curved upwards. "I get how it might seem like that, but I'm just trying to look out for you. And if you think he's a good guy, then I'm on board with that"

He confirmed her suspicions. His intensions had been good though his methods could use some work.

"Friends?" Poppy asked.

"Definitely," Adrian replied with a big smile and Poppy returned the gesture.

"I get it now," she said.

"Huh?"

"Why everybody thinks you're the only decent Slytherin."

The other Slytherins usually called Adrian that in an attempt at malice but Poppy sincerely meant it. His face reddened but he didn't have a chance to respond before Marcus called his team to gather around him. He kept his speech short yet definitely not sweet. Intense was the best word Poppy could think of to described it. Hopeful, too.

Both teams walked onto the pitch. A sea of red and gold flags, banners, sweaters and scarves filled the stands apart from one section of disgruntled Slytherins dressed in green and silver. Poppy tried to look for Grace but couldn't locate her. Grace had insisted on borrowing Poppy's scarf, but Poppy was sure she wouldn't actually wear it. She would have to be crazy to wear Slytherin attire in front of her housemates. Poppy didn't mind that most of the school wanted Gryffindor to win. Quidditch, luckily, was not a popularity contest.

Madam Hooch called everyone to the center. As the two Captains shook hands, Marcus squeezed so hard he nearly crushed Oliver's fingers.

"For old time's sake," he said with a crooked smile.

The game seemed turned out to be the most violent Poppy had seen in a long time. Marcus almost knocked Angelina Johnson off her broom so Fred Weasley threw his bat into the back of Marcus's head. He was knocked forward and his nose hit the handle of his broom. It bled profusely through the rest of the game. Graham grabbed Katie Bell's head and tried to claim he thought it was the Quaffle. Derrick and Bole swung two bludgers straight into Oliver's stomach. Malfoy grabbed Potter's broom. The Gryffindors scored on almost all their penalty shots and when the game was Gryffindor's eighty points to Slytherin's twenty, Harry Potter caught the snitch.

Poppy had missed almost all the shots the Gryffindor's took. Everybody else had broken a bunch of rules, but she had been, in her mind, the worst player. The whole school poured out onto the pitch to congratulate the Gryffindor team. People jumped up and down and lifted Harry Potter into the air. Poppy and Marcus stood silently at the edge. The rest of their team had already cleared out. Poppy didn't know what to say. She watched as Marcus studied the overjoyed crowd with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Oliver spotted them and broke free from the crowd. He approached them with a smile.

He tapped his hand to Poppy's shoulder. "You were good."

Poppy rolled her eyes and removed his hand. "I guess you were better."

She crossed her arms and watched as his smile slipped away. She was happy for him, at least she wanted to be, but it was hard when all she wanted to do was to be miserable about their loss. Why had she even pushed her way onto the team? Slytherin was winning just fine without her.

"Good game," Marcus said to break the silence.

"Rather foul, I would say," Oliver said, snapping out of thought. He smiled again, but only a little.

"By your side as much as mine," Marcus said and gestured towards his nose. Blood had dripped all the way down his chin and neck onto his Quidditch robes.

"Well, almost," Oliver said. He motioned towards the crowd, said goodbye and rejoined the celebration. The crowd was now carrying Potter towards the castle.

"It's my fault we lost," Poppy said when Oliver was out of earshot. Marcus turned to face her and shrugged.

"Losing, much like winning, is a team effort," he said calmly, looking straight into her eyes. His face was relaxed, nothing like it had been before or during the game.

Poppy raised an eyebrow. "You're not mad?"

He looked at her confused expression and smiled. "At you? No. Everybody else? Yes."

"How is that fair?" Poppy asked, annoyed by his tone. He should've been angry. Marcus was terrible at losing, they had that in common.

"It probably isn't." He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her closer, but she whipped her hand out of his grasp. The smile fell from his face.

"You should be mad! I messed up, a lot!" Poppy shouted.

"I can't be mad at you."

His words only made her angrier. He was supposed to treat her like any other player. Had it been Malfoy standing next to him, he would've had no problem expressing his feelings. "Try!"

"You really want me to be mad?"

She nodded frantically. "Yes! I'm furious with myself and it would help if you could just be angry with me and not tell me everything's alright!"

"That's insane." He still wasn't mad, rather he looked amused.

"No it isn't! We lost! Be angry! I fucked up! Malfoy definitely fucked up! And don't even get me started on Graham!" Poppy was ranting. His indifferent attitude was making her rant.

He looked calmly into her eyes. "You know, I really love you."

"Well, I fucking love you too, but that doesn't mean I'm going to-"

She stopped dead in the midst of her sentence. There it was. The three words she'd been so worried about not being able to say. Wanting to be sure she meant them, wanting the perfect moment. This was not the perfect moment or the perfect way to say them, but Marcus didn't seem to care. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"Took you long enough."