"Game Plan"

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling.

Author's Note: I wrote this before it was confirmed that Katie was indeed a year younger than Fred, George, Angelina and Alicia. So, consider this a AU.

Marcus Flint was not handsome, not charming, not intelligent, not popular; and he knew all that. He knew that he wasn't hideous either, he noticed the way girls looked at him when he wore tight tee shirts during the summer. He wasn't charming, or the beloved of the school, like Diggory. But he managed to get what he needed or wanted from people - even when he had to resort to using threats of curses or beatings. He wasn't a Ravenclaw, but he wasn't stupid either. He knew enough to know what he wanted and how to get it.

What he wanted, now, was a Gryffindor. Not just any Gryffindor, but one of their Quidditch players. He had a new game plan. Part of it was changing his Quidditch strategy to emphasize brute force and dirty plays more than ever. The other part was fucking with the minds of the Gryffindor players. He wasn't worried about Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, he was confident he could easily beat them; even if Harry Potter couldn't . The thought made him snicker. Gryffindor, he did worry about though. They'd beaten Slytherin for the past two years, although they had yet to win the Quidditch Cup. Having to repeat his seventh year was humiliating enough, he wasn't going to endure losing to Gryffindor on top of it.

He scanned the Gryffindor table, eyes resting on the members of their Quidditch team. There was Potter, Marcus dismissed him right away. He wasn't interested in children. There were the Weasley twins - Marcus shuddered at that thought. Never, ever, ever would he fuck a Weasley, even for the sake of retaining the Quidditch Cup. That left Wood and his chasers. Wood was the captain, fucking with him would fuck with the entire team. But that'd be hard to do, Wood didn't seem to notice anything not involving a quaffle, bludger, and snitch. The girls would be easier, well, relatively speaking. Marcus honestly couldn't imagine one of them falling for him without the aid of a love potion. Besides being the enemy, he wasn't their type. Johnson's type was apparently Weasley trash. Spinnet's type was scrawny, long-haired, poetry-reading Ravenclaws. Bell's type was Wood. Hmm, that had possibilities. Wood never seemed to notice his chaser staring longingly at him. Maybe she'd be willing to accept Marcus as a substitute.

Yeah, he'd try to seduce Katie Bell in order to psych out the Gryffindors and prevent them from beating his team this year. He laughed at the thought of how much he was willing to sacrifice for the good of his house. Pucey glanced at him with a mixture of curiousity and resentment, still upset at being thrown off the team and onto the reserves. Marcus glared at him, pleased when the Fifth Year looked away. Marcus grinned, seducing Bell would be a pleasure on its own as well as part of his game strategy.

It was easier said than done. As a seventh year, Marcus didn't have any classes with Bell. The only times he saw her were during meals in the Great Hall, in the hallways between classes, and outside during Quidditch matches. In any case, he needed to know what would get to her before he approached her. He consulted the Fifth Years on the team, Montague, Warrington, and Bletchley, on what they knew about Bell after practice one afternoon.

"The boggart turned into a hag when it was her turn during Defense Against the Dark Arts," Warrington volunteered. Well, that was a fairly common fear. It didn't reveal any personal traumas.

"She always prepares an extra vial of potion, in case one of us trips her on her way to Snape," Montague said. So she was cautious.

"Why do you want to know, anyway?" Bletchley asked, curiously. Marcus glowered at him. "All right, all right," he said. "She spends every Tuesday and Thursday evenings studying in the library." She had a routine. "She's always glaring at me when I'm trying to snog Drusilla there," Bletchley was complaining.

He needed to insinuate himself into her routine, so she'd get comfortable around him and let her guard down. That meant going to his least favorite place in the castle. Madame Pince always watched him the entire time he was in the library, the five times he'd been there during his seven previous years at Hogwarts. But it was necessary, so Marcus forced himself not to miss the game of exploding snap he was missing in the Slytherin common room, and sat down at the table opposite Bell's. He opened his DADA textbook, watching Bell out of the corner of his eye. She had a roll of parchment and three books spread open on the table, leaning over them and muttering to herself. Marcus turned a page, still watching Bell. He quickly grew bored. There was nothing interesting about watching anyone, even an attractive girl, study. He ended up reading two chapters, until Bell finally left the library. He spent two evenings a week in the library for three weeks. A nice side benefit of all this time studying was scoring full marks on an exam for the first time in his life.

He needed to move on the next stage of his plan, and the gods must have agreed with him. On Tuesday of the fourth week, the library was full and the only empty seat was at Bell's table. He sat down without saying a word, and opened his book.

"What are you going here?" Bell asked, staring at him suspiciously.

"This was the only available seat," Marcus replied coolly. "Or should I leave rather than taint your area? Do you want me to fail another year?"

She blushed, "Sorry, Flint, I didn't think."

Normally, he'd have replied "You Gryffindors never do." But he was trying to seduce her, and he didn't think insulting her and her house was the best approach, so instead he said, "Apology accepted." He lowered his gaze to the pages of the book, waiting for her to speak. He didn't have to wait long.

"You know, the first time I saw you in here, I thought you were planning something that would make Pince chase you out, throwing books at you."

"Sorry to disappoint you," he replied dryly, still looking down at his book.

"So, what do you think of the new Dark Arts teacher?"

"Well, it would be better if he was a Dark Arts teacher rather than a Defense Against the Dark Arts one, but he seems decent." Marcus finally looked at Bell, who was watching him intently. "He's better than Lockhart. Speaking of Lockhart, you witches must miss him."

"Not really. Hearing he'd taken credit for other witches and wizards's work pretty much killed his appeal."

"Why do you come here rather than do your homework in the Gryffindor common room?" he asked, mainly to make conversation.

"The twins are...distracting, and I need every ounce of concentration I can muster to do Snape's homework."

He nodded in understanding and didn't say anything. She didn't say anything else either. They studied for an hour in silence, though she did wish him a good night when she left. Marcus felt he was making good progress.

Two days later, there were seats available at other tables, but Marcus sat at Bell's table anyway. She didn't say anything except "hello." Marcus returned her greeting and busied himself with his Muggle Studies textbook. Some time later, she yawned and stretched, and asked him why he took Muggle Studies if he hated muggles.

"It's an easy class," he said. "And anyway, I don't hate them, exactly. I just think they have their world and we have ours, and we should leave it that way."

"Do you remember the section on muggle sports? What'd you think?"

"A few of them, like rubgy or that game that's only played in America, sounded interesting."

"Sounds like you and the others on your Quidditch team would be perfect for that game." She smiled at him when she said it.

He smiled back at her, "Can't argue there. Nothing could compare to Quidditch, though." She nodded in agreement and turned her attention back to her homework. Marcus resumed reading about muggle wars.

The next week, he spoke first, asking her what she'd thought of the Slytherin-Ravenclaw game. She complained about the way Malfoy'd elbowed Chang out of the way to grab the snitch, and the way Derrick and Bole'd sent multiple bludgers at Davies's face. She accused of him and his teammates of cheating to make up for lack of skill. He retorted that her team only won because of Potter, pointing out that they'd lost when they played without him or when he fainted during matches. They argued heatedly, voices growing louder, until Madame Pince hurried over to hiss a reprimand at them. He did a silent imitation of Pince after she'd turned to leave. Bell bit her lip to stifle her laughter.

When he got back to the Slytherin common room, Bletchley stopped him as he headed to his dormitory. The keeper asked, "What are you doing with Bell?"

Marcus raised his one of his eye brows and folded his arms over his chest. "Since when do I answer to you, Miles?" he asked softly.

Bletchley shifted uncomfortably, "You know I didn't mean it like that, Marcus. I just want to know what the plan is."

"Just trying to mess with her head, throw the Gryffindors off their game." He paused, then asked sarcastically, "Does that meet with your approval?"

Bletchley gaped at him for a moment then grinned broadly. "That's fucking brilliant, Marcus! Do you want me and the others to help? I could take Spinnet and..."

"No," Marcus interrupted him. "Merlin, think for once. The Gryffindors would know something was up if all of them were suddenly besieged by flowers and candy from us. You stay away from the rest of them."

"Flowers and candy?" Bletchley's grin widened.

"Figure of speech," Marcus muttered. He'd need to get Bell something for Valetine's, though, but that was months away. Bletchley wished him a good night and walked away still grinning. Marcus knew the story he'd tell the other fifth year boys would bear little resembalance to the conversation they'd just had.

Thursday, Bell greeted him with a smile and asked him about his Christmas plans. They spent more time talking that evening than studying. When she rose to leave, because Pince was occupied in the restricted section, and because it felt right, he kissed her. One hand was on her shoulder and the other was cupping her face, and Marcus wished the table between them would disappear so he could feel her body pressed against his. He expected her to push him away and slap him, but she didn't. She opened her mouth and allowed him to slip his tongue inside. He was the one who ended the kiss, remembering that the other students were probably watching them. He looked around the library, relieved that the few students left were first and second years. No one would believe them if they went about claiming to have seen the Slytherin captain kiss a Gryffindor chaser. He turned his attention back to Katie. Her face was red, but she smiled at him when she said, "Good night, Marcus, and Merry Christmas."

"You too, Katie," he replied. He watched her leave before slumming into his chair, and burying his head in his hands. It had occurred to him for the first time that remaining emotionally detached while he implemented his plan might be more difficult than he'd anticipated.

To be continued...