Counting Her Tears
By Trauma Queen
Disclaimer: This plot is mine. People are JK's. This is just for the fun of it. No money is being made. Good stuff.
A/N: This is a one-shot thing I felt like doing right at the moment. So tell me if you like it!
Katie Bell threw her bag of books and quills haphazardly to the floor. She sunk down next to them, curling her arms around her legs. She put her head on the tops of her knees and cried. She cried because she would never be good enough for herself. She cried because Oliver didn't care about her like he used to. He didn't seem to care about anyone anymore. She cried because she couldn't handle the pressure of being a seventh year and next year having to face the world on her own. She cried because she couldn't seem to do anything right.
But mostly, she cried because no one even gave a damn.
Katie cried for twenty minutes in the corner of the hall with out anyone noticing. Typically Hogwarts-Ignores-Katie behavior, she thought. She shut her eyes hard, and didn't bother to keep crying anymore.
Two black, leather shoes stopped in front of Katie. Attached to them was Marcus Flint. Katie looked up, then seeing his face she just resumed her sad position. Marcus lightly kicked Katie's shoe. "Bell?" He asked.
"Just fuck off, Flint." She cried, "I'm not in the mood for you."
"I didn't say anything yet." He didn't smirk, which he usually would, given the circumstances.
"I don't care. Unless you want to listen to me cry and complain about everything that's going WRONG in my life, I suggest you just leave." Katie groaned.
"Who implied that I didn't want to hear your sad story? What did I say wrong this time, Bell? Or did you just assume that because I am nothing like you beloved Wood, that I hate everything about everyone, and mostly you?" Marcus scowled this time. Being overshadowed by Wood hardly suited him.
"Don't bring up fucking Oliver. Merlin, Flint, you always know how to say the WRONG thing." Katie snapped at him. Marcus sunk to the floor next to her, she instinctively lay her head on his shoulder.
"Katie, I know you hate me. And I know I generally seem to hate you. But I know what to do right now. So, if it makes you feel much better, just punch me. Pretend I'm Wood. Pretend I'm whatever is pissing you off. Pretend, hell, just think of me as...me." Marcus said.
And Katie punched him, again and again and again. But Marcus' arm wasn't hurt in the least, and Katie punched him until her fist went numb and she retired to crying on his arm. "I'm so so sorry." She cried, repeating the same sentence over and over again.
"Don't be. I told you to." Marcus shrugged to the girl who cried on his shoulder.
A few hours later, Katie was asleep, her tears were all dried up now. Marcus rested Katie's head against the wall, as he stood up. Then, he lifted her, and her bag up. He carried her to the Fat Lady.
Marcus tapped on the portrait with the toe of his shoe. Olivier Wood stepped out, looking worried and upset, and scattered. Typical Wood, Marcus would have thought. Seeing the object of his affection in Marcus Flints' arms, his eyes ignited with a hateful fire. He was about to hurt Marcus, or attempt it, when Marcus stopped him,
"She's not hurt. She just needed a shoulder to cry on, and someone to count her tears."
By Trauma Queen
Disclaimer: This plot is mine. People are JK's. This is just for the fun of it. No money is being made. Good stuff.
A/N: This is a one-shot thing I felt like doing right at the moment. So tell me if you like it!
Katie Bell threw her bag of books and quills haphazardly to the floor. She sunk down next to them, curling her arms around her legs. She put her head on the tops of her knees and cried. She cried because she would never be good enough for herself. She cried because Oliver didn't care about her like he used to. He didn't seem to care about anyone anymore. She cried because she couldn't handle the pressure of being a seventh year and next year having to face the world on her own. She cried because she couldn't seem to do anything right.
But mostly, she cried because no one even gave a damn.
Katie cried for twenty minutes in the corner of the hall with out anyone noticing. Typically Hogwarts-Ignores-Katie behavior, she thought. She shut her eyes hard, and didn't bother to keep crying anymore.
Two black, leather shoes stopped in front of Katie. Attached to them was Marcus Flint. Katie looked up, then seeing his face she just resumed her sad position. Marcus lightly kicked Katie's shoe. "Bell?" He asked.
"Just fuck off, Flint." She cried, "I'm not in the mood for you."
"I didn't say anything yet." He didn't smirk, which he usually would, given the circumstances.
"I don't care. Unless you want to listen to me cry and complain about everything that's going WRONG in my life, I suggest you just leave." Katie groaned.
"Who implied that I didn't want to hear your sad story? What did I say wrong this time, Bell? Or did you just assume that because I am nothing like you beloved Wood, that I hate everything about everyone, and mostly you?" Marcus scowled this time. Being overshadowed by Wood hardly suited him.
"Don't bring up fucking Oliver. Merlin, Flint, you always know how to say the WRONG thing." Katie snapped at him. Marcus sunk to the floor next to her, she instinctively lay her head on his shoulder.
"Katie, I know you hate me. And I know I generally seem to hate you. But I know what to do right now. So, if it makes you feel much better, just punch me. Pretend I'm Wood. Pretend I'm whatever is pissing you off. Pretend, hell, just think of me as...me." Marcus said.
And Katie punched him, again and again and again. But Marcus' arm wasn't hurt in the least, and Katie punched him until her fist went numb and she retired to crying on his arm. "I'm so so sorry." She cried, repeating the same sentence over and over again.
"Don't be. I told you to." Marcus shrugged to the girl who cried on his shoulder.
A few hours later, Katie was asleep, her tears were all dried up now. Marcus rested Katie's head against the wall, as he stood up. Then, he lifted her, and her bag up. He carried her to the Fat Lady.
Marcus tapped on the portrait with the toe of his shoe. Olivier Wood stepped out, looking worried and upset, and scattered. Typical Wood, Marcus would have thought. Seeing the object of his affection in Marcus Flints' arms, his eyes ignited with a hateful fire. He was about to hurt Marcus, or attempt it, when Marcus stopped him,
"She's not hurt. She just needed a shoulder to cry on, and someone to count her tears."