The Aftermath
Onesmartcookie78
Disclaimer: I do own anything.
A/N: This story was written for enomix's Marauder's Map Contest II
Prompt: Hagrid's Cabin, Marcus Flint, Alicia Spinnet, April 4th
The Sunday after Easter, 1994:
"That's a penalty for Gryffindor! NO! WEASLEY, THAT BAT IS FOR BLUDGERS ONLY! PENALTY FOR SLYTHERIN!" Madam Hooch screamed. "I said I wanted a 'clean' match!"
The match had been doomed to be nasty from the start and it was only ten minutes in. Yet those ten minutes had set the tone for the entire game. Flint had already crashed into Angie after she had scored and Fred had –in a fit of rage- thrown his Beater's bat at the back of the Chaser's head with enough force for said appendage to go flying forward. Flint was now nursing a bloody, possibly broken, nose after having smacked it into his broom handle.
You see, Slytherin was determined to make us lose, as this match would determine who won the Quidditch Cup. Not that they honestly thought we had a chance at winning anyway. We needed to win by two hundred ten points, a near impossible margin.
Not that I thought we would lose. No, Wood had ingrained in all of our brains that we would win no matter what. I'm not sure if he meant that we should bodily harm the Slytherins, but we were only defending ourselves, honest! Or at least, I'm certain that's what Fred had said to Hooch when she had called him and Flint over.
"Alicia!" Wood yelled from half-way across the pitch, "take the shot!"
I nodded as every player but Malfoy, Potter, Bletchley and Wood moved to the side-lines. Hooch tossed me the Quaffle and I took a few deep breaths before speeding towards the Slytherin hoops. I corkscrewed, feinted right, feinted left, and then threw the ball straight through the centre hoop. Bletchley howled in rage and Bole manoeuvred towards me, holding his bat threateningly.
Flint, surprisingly enough, shouted for him to stand down as he retrieved the Quaffle for his own shot. Flint's moves were predictable though and Wood caught the ball easily.
Hooch blew her whistle again and Wood threw the Quaffle to Kate. Angie and I flanked her on either side, me slightly below her and Angie slightly above.
Warrington sped head-on towards Kate with all the grace of a bull in a china shop and Kate quickly passed the Quaffle up and to the left at Angie. My fellow Chaser narrowly avoided Warrington whilst Montague targeted Angie.
Kate broke formation to dodge a Bludger and Warrington followed. Flint and Montague double-teamed Angie into dropping the Quaffle which I readily caught and slung to the now open Kate.
Kate threw it back to Angie who side armed it immediately to me, seeing as Warrington was all over her.
Flint was flying alongside me, surprisingly not trying to knock me off my broom too much. His strategy seemed to be talking me to death this time.
"Damn, Spinnet, your flying is off today," he sneered, elbowing me in the stomach. When that didn't work he changed tactics, "so, fucked Wood recently, Spinnet?"
That made me splutter, "W-what?" I released the ball, and Kate caught it, raising her arm to score another goal for Gryffindor. Her arm was in motion, but Montague grabbed her hair, making the shot sail wide.
"Foul! That's a foul!" All of the scarlet robed players shouted.
"Penalty Gryffindor!" Hooch declared, "Montague, you are not allowed to grab other players!"
"You got this Kates," I nodded at my fellow Chaser. I could hear Lee Jordan making rude –but funny- commentary on the dirty play. I had long ago learned to tune it out, lest I make a mistake because I'm unable to multitask, but knew the sudden lack of digs was due to McGonagall's interference.
Katie shot and scored, Bletchley whipping the Quaffle to Flint. I chased after him, but Bole and Derrick were closing in on me, both Beaters sporting murderous expressions.
I gulped just in time for Bole to whack me upside the head with his Beater's bat. George, who had been flying to my rescue, pushed his broom harder, this time looking for revenge.
"FOUL! I SAID FOUL! STOP PLAYING!" Hooch was screeching. No one listened.
Weasley elbowed Bole in the face as I dived to escape the duo.
"This is ridiculous! Penalty, Gryffindor and Slytherin!" Hooch shoved the ball at me and I faked Bletchley out, scoring in between his legs.
This time Warrington took the penalty and missed when Wood easily saved it.
Wood passed to Angie who tossed it up to me. I bypassed Montague, but Flint was on me again.
"Tell me, Spinnet, how does Wood feel inside of you? Does he-"
"Shut up, Flint!" I snapped, handing the Quaffle off to Kates in a brush pass.
"Why don't you make me, Spinnet?" He sneered, "you could do the same thing to me that you're doing to Wood and the rest of the Gryffindork Quidditch team, you fucking slag."
I acted like I was going to fly right, but flew down and left, accepting the Quaffle from Katie, only to pass it to the open Angie. Warrington, Flint and Montague formed a triangle around poor Angie and Kates subtly flew above her.
Angie pitched the ball to Kates who sloped downwards, completely unguarded, and scored again.
Through the uproar, I managed to hear Lee call out the score, fifty-ten Gryffindor. Then Flint had the ball and I was locked in again.
Bole and Derrick, however, were up to something. They had both Bludgers under their authority, alternating the balls between the two of them, speeding down to the Gryffindor side of the pitch.
Fred and George were trying to get in between the Beaters and our Keeper but Warrington and Montague were blocking them.
"Wood!" I screamed, pointing at the approaching Beaters. Wood's eyes widened as both Bludgers struck him in the stomach.
"FOUL! THAT WAS A FOUL! THOSE DIRTY ROTTEN SLYTHERIN GITS!" Lee was silenced when McGonagall smacked him upside the head.
"Be fair, Lee, or you're done." The Transfiguration teacher chastised half-heartedly.
"Gryffindor penalty!" Hooch refereed, giving the ball to Angie.
Angie was quick as lightning, getting in close and low, scoring easily and then the game was back on.
Flint had possession, but Angie and I managed to double-team him into dropping it into Kate's awaiting hands.
Bole and Derrick were on either side of Kates and Warrington moved in front of her. Kates went to drop back, but Montague was behind her.
Next to me was Flint, snarling nonsense at me about how I was clearly the team's broom, everyone-gets-a-ride, and Katie threw it to Angie who was completely open.
"Sod off," I growled at Flint as I evaded him, caught the Quaffle and scored again. Good, seventy-ten, Gryffindor.
And then Potter was diving drastically, Malfoy following him. When that slimy git realised Potter was going to get the Snitch, he grabbed the back of Harry's Firebolt, resulting in another penalty for Gryffindor.
Hooch motioned for me to take the shot, but Flint grabbed my robes. "Just thought I'd let you know," his foul breath was warm in my ear, disgustingly so. "I don't like to share. I'm going to have you, Leesh, all of you." I shuddered and steered my way to Hooch.
I wound up, my arm at the apex of my release when Flint shouted: "Remember what I said, Spinnet!"
I started and the Quaffle went wide. Shite. I'd blown it. Wood was glaring at me from across the field and I could practically hear him yelling at me. I was so dead after the match and it was all bloody Flint's fault.
I was going to get him for that.
Angie had somehow got the Quaffle again and I realised that I had been flying idly, not paying much attention. Flint was headed my way again.
"Thinking about my offer, Spinnet?" He mocked, His free hand slithering down my arm like a snake. How fitting.
"Like I said before, Flint, fuck off."
"Wouldn't you like that?" Flint snorted as Angie shot and scored. "Wouldn't you like to have my hands all over you as my-"
Malfoy plummeted for the Snitch again but Harry got to it first.
We had won. Maybe Wood wouldn't kill me after all. We had won the Quidditch Cup.
Everyone landed and picked Wood up. He was crying shamelessly as he clutched the trophy like a life raft. "We did it!"
The Weasleys were laughing and Kate, Angie and I had linked arms, singing like we were drunk. I ruffled Potter's hair and the team went to the showers, all of us still high off the recent victory.
I finished first and left, only to be accosted by Flint.
"Still mulling things over?" Flint whispered in my ear.
I screeched in shock and remembered my earlier promise to myself; I was going to get Flint for making me miss my shot.
"Listen here, Flint," I grabbed him by the front of his fresh robes, "you're going to leave me alone. Or else."
"Like it rough then?" He snickered, slouching lazily. "I can give you whatever you want, Spinnet, whenever you want it."
Around Flint's big head I saw McGonagall headed my way, whether it be to see if Flint was bothering me or congratulate me, I wasn't sure. That's what made my next action so mad though; her presence.
"I really hope you're not the team's slag, Leesh, because I want your virginity. The first time is the most special, you know, and I want all of you." His eyes raked down my figure and I didn't think.
I bitch-slapped him as hard as I could, doubled back, and then slapped him again. A furious scowl adorned McGonagall's stern features as her pace quickened till she reached us. I knew I should have let her deal with it.
Flint, on the other hand, showed none of my worry, instead grinning like the cat that ate the canary.
"Miss Spinnet, what on earth possessed you to slap Mr. Flint?" She scolded, "you should know better! Unfortunately I'm going to have to give you a detention, Miss Spinnet, in my classroom tonight at seven."
I shrank back from her angry –though strangely disappointed- face until she finished her rant. Then I leaned in and told her quietly the sort of things that sodding prat had said to me. Shock passed over McGonagall's visage and she turned to Flint with twice the rage she had demonstrated towards me.
"You too, Flint!" She snapped, "detention, tonight!"
"Professor, we have the party," I protested weakly. McGonagall really is a scary lady- I wished I was more outspoken, like Angie.
McGonagall contemplated the thought for the moment, "Very well, but I cannot oversee your detention tomorrow night. Hagrid!" She waved over the half-giant.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall, ma'am?" Hagird inquired politely.
"Can you oversee Miss Spinnet's and Mr. Flint's detentions tomorrow night?"
What? I nearly choked. I'd told her some of what Flint had said (granted I'd only said that he had called me a slag) so why would she confine me to a detention with him?
"O' course, Professor McGonagall, ma'am." Hagrid agreed easily, "we'll go into the Forest and look fer the special herbs Professors Snape an' Sprout were asking fer."
There were so many flaws in that idea. For one, what about the bloody Dementors? For two, I would be with Flint of all people. And lastly, we were doing this to help Snape. Don't get me wrong, I knew Sprout would benefit from the collection of herbs as well, but it would still help Snape.
But what could I do? I'm only a student and if McGonagall -the most intelligent teacher in my opinion- didn't see any problems with Hagrid's plan, who was I to judge?
Flint agreed, sent a look that was more than likely meant to be seductive to me, and left.
With a sigh, I decided that tonight was as good a night as any to get completely, utterly wasted. Hopefully I would forget about the detention and McGonagall would allow me to serve double the next day. I couldn't very well skip the detention with a good conscience.
The next day found me with a splitting headache listening to Flint's jeers. It wasn't long before Hagrid told us to go wait for him at his cabin because it was getting too late. He promised that he would join us later –like five minutes later- but twenty minutes had passed and lo and behold, no Hagrid.
I had figured Flint would leave when first given the chance, but he stuck around, more than likely so that he could unsettle me.
The silence was thick as Flint had finally decided to stop pestering me.
I glanced at him wondering why he had paused in his leering, and was rewarded with something I wasn't expecting; Flint was… attractive. I'm not sure what alternate universe I had suddenly been transported to, but I blame it on the moon. Moonlight can make anyone look good.
His dark eyes stood out due to the white light, and his short dark hair shined. Flint's smooth lips housed a straight smile, I knew, as he'd finally decided to fix his teeth. He was also really tall, towering over me by at least five inches. Muscles had developed from years of Quidditch playing and were pronounced in his taught Slytherin green sweater.
Uniform looks good on him.
"See something you like?" Flint raised an eyebrow, those lips spreading to show off his white teeth.
"No," I scowled. He was a Slytherin. I hated him.
"I do." His words were quiet and I half-expected to look over to see a mirror in his hands, but his eyes were firmly trained on me.
The charged atmosphere persisted.
He was really good-looking.
I was not attracted to Flint. At all. On any sort of level. Nope. Not happening.
Sodding hell.
Why hadn't I noticed it before?
Oh, right, because he's a massive prick.
So why wasn't he one right now? Well, he was still a git, but he wasn't acting like one. Presently.
"Spinnet, your flying was shoddy today," Flint commented. "I could have knocked you off your broom plenty of times, had I wanted to."
"Yeah, I rather appreciate it when you don't," I bit out.
Awkward for another minute, then: "If we both find the other attractive, why don't we shag?" Flint requested, shooting a sly smirk in my direction.
I coughed. What the-?
"I mean, you checked me out, I checked you out, I'm undressing you with my eyes and Hagrid's not going to be back for a while. We could go in his cabin. No one would have to know but us." His teeth skimmed the shell of my ear and I shuddered, not from disgust but desire.
"No," I denied simply, "not even if you were the last on bloke on earth, Flint."
"Oh, Alicia," he chuckled, "you always were stubborn. If you didn't want me, your body wouldn't be reacting the way it is now. It would be our secret."
Somehow that part sounded seductive as hell.
A secret. No one would know but us.
"No." I repeated.
"I will get what I want, Alicia," he warned, "just one word and I will grant you pleasure. All of the pleasure you could possibly want." His arms were wrapped around me from behind and I could feel my body shaking at the contact.
"No," my voice was losing its conviction, my body betraying my words, "leave me alone, Flint."
"Oh, Leesh, maybe if you call me Marcus." He buried his face in the crook of my neck, breathing in deeply, "and if you beg."
"Please, Marcus." I requested desperately.
Flint groaned, "That was all the permission I needed," and with that his lips pressed against my neck.
I grit my teeth. "Get off me, Flint," I ground out.
"You're forgetting the first condition," his tongue flicked out, tracing an area on my throat before he bit down.
I barely swallowed my moan, "Get off me, Marcus." My voice was hardly more than a murmur.
"And now the second, shame, Leesh," he was giving me more love bites, and my eyes were nearly shut from the attention.
"Please, Marcus- ah!" His teeth had captured my earlobe and he raked them down the cartilage.
"Sounded more like you were begging for more," his voice was practically incoherent.
"Please, Marcus, get off me." I managed to force out.
"Look in my eyes and say it." He demanded, spinning me around.
I gasped at what I saw in his dark orbs- uninhibited, animalistic desire.
"Say it," he leaned his forehead against mine.
I couldn't speak and as he searched my face for clues, he must have found the answer he was looking for.
For the first time, Marcus Flint's lips captured mine in a searing hot kiss, his hands gripping my hips tighter than was probably necessary. My hands fisted into his silky hair as I pulled him closer to me.
Damn.
If I had been Angie, I would have punched him.
If I had been Kates, I would have run away.
If I had been Hermione, I wouldn't have got a detention to begin with.
If I had been Lavender, I would have forced myself on him.
If I had been Parvati, I would have flirted with him and then snogged him later.
But I wasn't.
I was Alicia and I had no self-control.
I snogged him for all I was worth and he matched my eagerness.
"Leesh," he broke contact so he could return to his earlier ministrations. Love bites again. "Mine," he mumbled unintelligibly.
"OI! WHAT ARE YOU LOT DOING!" Hagrid had returned, shaking his fist at us.
We sprang apart, my hand covering my lips, my eyes wide and a languid smirk on Marcus –Flint's- face.
"Back to your dorms, you two," Hagrid grumbled, "and keep your hands to yourselves."
As soon as we were out of his sight, Flint caught my hand and brought it to his lips. His tongue darted out and tasted my skin before he rolled the extremity over, kissing my pulse point lightly.
When we got to the castle, Flint pushed me against the wall, snogging me roughly before giving me a heated look.
The best part?
No one ever found out.
It was our secret.