Disclaimer: I do own Morgana . . . yay?

Author's Note: wow, thank you for all the feedback. I especially want to thank Nezumi1 for her constructive criticism. I first got the idea that Marcus Flint was a three dimensional character from a story called For The Love Of. Anyway, I really thank Nezumi1. I hope she will like the development she requested.

Chapter Fourteen: For Every Action; A Reaction

The Valentine's Day ball really didn't phase me. I hadn't bothered to put too much effort into my appearance, borrowed dress robes and a ponytail were evidence of that. In the back of my mind I almost felt sorry for Marcus because I was such a lame date. I accepted his almost uncharacteristic kindness with a cool, unchanged expression and short answers to his questions. He had even gone so far as to by me a corsage which I was unconscious picking at as we sat at a table with the rest of the slytherin team. Graham had come stag and was sitting next to me.

The week since Oliver and I had last spoken (more like fought actually) seemed to have passed by in an instant while this night was dragging on forever. One of the worst things was that, well, remember when everyone kept calling me a slytherin queen or something back at the Yule Ball? Well when Marcus and I came in whispers of slytherin royalty spread around the hall.

Adrian Pucey had tired to rag on me for going out with Oliver but jumping to my defense had been Marcus telling him that it was all Wood's fault and blah blah. I didn't mind too much though because I am off the hook and now the entire school thinks that Oliver Wood, gryffindor keeper tried to have a relationship with the slytherin beater.

Speaking of keeper . . . he just walked through the doors into the Great Hall. Not just Oliver, but the entire gryffindor team as well. The sight of Oliver's gorgeous date almost seared my eyes. She had long blond hair, olive complextion, stunningly blue eyes and was wearing robes that made every guy's head turned. I stared into my drink and closed my eyes. She looked like a goddess compared to me. Wait a second . . .why did I care who Oliver took to the ball? I sighed. Admit it, Montague, I said to myself. You lo-like the prat.

Graham's eyes looked like they were about to melt out of his scull the second he saw Katie Bell walk in on the arm of George Weasley. He buried his face in his hands and said, "How degrading." Only I could hear that and I patted him on the back. They sneered at us as they walked by but I was far too depressed to put the effort into responding. Oliver's expression made me unsure of whether to be happy or not. He looked terribly unhappy. Much as I did.

I wasn't accustomed to feeling this way. Usually my emotions are so well controlled that I barely know they exist. But every since Oliver and I have been thrown together, it seems emotions have kept on gaining strength within me and currently have taken to pulling me down in a state of depression that was quite frankly, pissing me off.

Music began to play and suddenly, I had an idea. "Come on, Marcus," I grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor before he could even ask what had come over me, since I had refused his invitation to dance about three times already.

Now, Marcus Flint isn't the best dancer in the world but he is certainly not the worst. He dances like anyone would expect a teenage boy to dance and being a slytherin he has a bit more charisma than the average, but still (and I should have seen this coming) I only thought more about Oliver. With every spin and turn I thought about how we had danced at the Yule Ball.

I tried my best to block out thoughts of the gryffindor as I danced with Marcus. I focused on him and started to think about things I never would have unless I was desperate, which I currently was. His hair was actually very attractive. I mean really, everyone obsesses over his teeth which by the way have gotten more and more straighter in the past few months I mean almost completely straight. But his hair was jet back, shiny with that tossled/spiky look to it. He had a nice complexion. Pale, like most slytherins but free of acne. (Random fact about Marcus' skin: when we lost the quidditch cup one year, he made the entire team go through hell week of training to make up for it. So, when he was sleeping, the guys put a sun spell on him and gave him the worst sunburn I have ever seen on a human being). He has nice eyes, a murky blue color and god knows he probably has a great body. Quidditch turned Graham's spoiled-child-flab into a six-pack, I can only imagine what shape he must be in.

Just as I thought I might be coming out of this depressive state, Oliver and his date entered the floor and I deflated. The song ended and I exited the floor and went out to the courtyard. Nothing like fresh hair and nicotine to clear your head.

Out on the courtyard, the lights of the Great Hall cast their exiting glow. I leaned on the rail and looked out towards the lake. Why couldn't I just like Marcus? It would make my life so much easier. I stuck a cigarrette in between my lips but before I could light it and feel better, I saw Derek standing farther down the rail, staring away from me. He looked surprisingly depressed. Maybe there was something having a worse time than I was tonight, besides Graham.

I plucked the cigarrette from my mouth and shoved it into my pocket. I ran a hand through my hair as I glided towards him. "Hey Derek," I said.

He looked up and appeared surprise to see me. "Hey, Morgana," he looked away again. "How are you?"

"Actually," I said while searching for my cigarrette, "I am having a fucking terrible time here . . . and where the hell is my fag?"

Derek snorted. "You appeared content with Marcus on the floor."

"Oh yeah," I said with a roll of my eyes. "He is decent, don't get me wrong but . . . he didn't help me have a good time."I almost said he wasn't as good as Oliver but thank god I caught myself.

"Then why did you come here with him?" he said, still not looking at me.

I leaned on the rail but still my cigarrette was unlit. "I don't know. My mind was elsewhere. Next thing I know," I fiddled with my cigarrette as I spoke. "I am on the arm of some guy, in dress robes I hate, being called a name I detest and feeling like a fucking showcased item." I shouted the last part in anger and threw my cigarrette over the rail.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Derek smile. "Something funny?" I asked.

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "You don't belong here, Morgana." He chuckled, "but you do look really pretty."

A smile tugged at my lips, "Thanks Derek."

The orchestra changed and I smirked as I recognized the song. Moonlight Sonata. Light chuckles accompanied my words, "Those muggle composures really knew their shit."

Derek raised his eyebrows, "Should a Montague be saying this? Complimenting a muggle?" He wasn't sarcastic like Oliver would have been and to be perfectly frank, I was expecting it. Five months ago I would have found nothing strange about his response, now it was humurous.

"You make it sounded like all slytherins are required to be pureblooded extremists. You don't know my family very well."

Derek nodded and looked away, "Sorry. You're right."

I slapped him in the arm. "You sound like a hufflpuff?"

Derek grinned at me.

"Hey Derek," I began looking around. "Do you want to dance?"

"Will Flint kick my ass?"

"Why should he?" I said a little heatedly. "I'm not his girlfriend. I shouldn't have come with my captain anyway."

We joined hands and began to dance. To be honest, Derek sucked. He really wasn't very good at all. He had too right feet trying to lead him in many different directions. I had to lead him, which if anyone had been watching would have been embarrassing, but he tried. That was important . . . I guess.

I love Moonlight Sonata and while dancing with an incompitent partner, I still enjoyed the song. I was so lost in the song that I did not notice how I did this with Oliver, dancing in the courtyard, I mean.

We continued to dance and I continued to ignore his . . . lack of skills. When the song approached the climax, Derek and I ended up (by pure accident) very close to one another. I wasn't expecting the outcome and the next thing I remember was thinking, oh shit is he going to kiss me? But we held ourselves there as the song faded and he made no to lean in.

He seemd to pull back and said in a barely audible whisper, "Good night, Morgan."

I jumped away as I realized how close I was to kissing him. I gracefully walked as quickly as I could back into the Great Hall and sticked close to Graham the rest of the night.

The days that followed were quite confusing. Marcus seem to constantly be doing nice things for me, wooing me almost and I hated it. Derek was always around me and he made sure that the other guys were with him. It had begun to get on my nerves being magnetically pulled to a certain posse everyday all day long, not to mention the guys were having girls coming onto them left and right and before I knew it, I found myself spending my nights alone in the Three Broomsticks.

Hogsmeade is typcially empty during the school week so no one was around the see me drown myself in butterbeer and fire whiskey. Now I don't like to think that I was "drowning" myself per say. It was more of aided thinking. I was that confused, for the first time in my life I needed help thinking.

It felt nice. Being alone I mean and fire whiskey made it so it wasn't painful in any sense. It helped me forget about the muddy waters of my mind. Every time I saw Oliver, my insides twisted and it jerked twice as hard when girls beyond his teammates were with him.

One night however, probably about two-three weeks after the Valentine's Day Ball, I was entering the Three Broomsticks and saw none other than my own brother, preparing to get shit-faced at the bar.

"Graham?ཀ" I said in disbelief. "What are you doing down here?"

He looked at me and buried his face in his hands. "Not now, Morgana. Can't a guy get drunk in peace?"

"Excuse me, but you are intruding on my nightly excursion, not visa versa."

He looked at me. "What?"

I sighed. "I come here ever night Graham. This is your first night here. What are you doing?"

He ran a hand over his face. "I saw Katie with the bastard Weasley again."

"Which one?"

"George," he snapped.

"So," I said pulling a stool next to him. "What happened?"

"They were holding hands," he said like it was the end of the world and for all I knew, it might very well have felt like it for my brother.

I patted him on the back, lightly but didn't say anything. If I had said, don't worry it will all be okay, I would have been lying because I really don't know.

"Why are you here?" he mumbled.

I stopped. Why was I here? I had come here every night for the past two weeks or so but I had never really admitted it to myself. I couldn't do that now, because I didn't know what I needed to say. Graham ordered another fire whiskey and I had the same.

Finally after what seemed like forever, I thought of something to say. "Graham . . . what happened to us?"

He laid his head down on the bar. "What do you mean, Morgana?"

"You know what I mean," I said covering my face with a hand. "What did we do to end up here? We were normal kids, with normal games. Our parents aren't raving deatheater purebloods nor are they muggle lovers. Where did we go wrong along the line to end up here, in this bar? You crying over some gryffindor girl and me because I . . ." I sighed, "have no idea want."

Graham laughed, "And you think I do, Morgana? You think I have any idea what I want?"

"You want Bell," I grumbled taking a drink.

"And you want Wood but what does that prove?"

"I don't want, Wood."

"Stop lying, Morgan. I am your brother, TWIN brother. I know you better than you know yourself."

I smirked at him, "That goes both ways, you know Graham."

"So tell me then, Morgana," he said rolling the 'r' very hard and stretching out the last 'a'. "Who am I?"

"You are Graham Alexander Montague. You love quidditch and anything competitive. Your favorite food is anything spicy. Your first kiss was with a slytherin prefect in your third year. You secretly find little kids cute, even muggle kids. You wanted to be a lawyer like dad, then a healer, then an auror, then an professional quidditch player, then a professional partier, in that order. Your room is a sty. You are intuitive, imaginative, logical, a thinker (on rare occasions), you have style, love to socialize but also, need alone time. You have jalapeno boxers which you sleep in and wear all summer long and you still went the bed when michael puts your hand in cold water."

He smiled and looked away, a slight blush on his face. "Well," he said with a light chuckle, "if you say so dear twin sister."

"So who am I?" I asked taking another swig.

He grinned, "You are Morgana Maryann Montague. You are the only Montague girl, including all of our cousins. You love quidditch, books and dancing. You hate salty things, only bitter or sweet. Your first kiss was with Carl Warrington in third year."

I held my hands in my head, "Don't remind me."

Graham laughed and continued. "You secretly like love-stories. You wanted to work for the ministry and then you wanted/want to be a pro quidditch player. You are sarcastic, logical, realistic (painfully so), you like parties sometimes, you're a thinker, independent, ambitious, cunning and stubborn. You are pretty even though you think you're not and you sneak off to muggle London when mum and dad aren't around."

A small smile graced my face. He was right, exactly right. Then I remembered all the things he had said. My days wandering through muggle London, the nights I would rant to him about how I wanted to be a pro quidditch player, my kiss with Warrington and all guys since, my favorite and least favorite foods, as well as all my likes dislikes and traits. My smile widened, suddenly I didn't feel as lost as I thought I was.

Despite how liked Oliver, pathetically so and despite how Graham's attraction to the gryffindor chaser was growing to be a sad sight, all of that faded away, if only for a night, as well talked, laughed, joked and reminded each other of aspects of our lives and ourselves which had evaded us.

The next day I was dead tired because I had stayed in Hogsmeade with Graham until 3 am, not to mention I had a bitch of a hangover. I had woken up late and not had time to down my anti-hangover potion which I had mastered by now. I had thrown on my clothes, grabbed it and ran down to the Great Hall.

I couldn't find the guys and that was when I realized I how late I must have slept it. I was bounding up the stairs in such a hurry that I collided head with someone. When I picked myself up from the floor, I saw that it was Oliver. A pain shot through my heart and I just couldn't bear to face him. The calm feeling that the previous night I had spent with Graham had brought me, faded into the background as I remembered that I still needed to resolve this issue somehow. He was still recovering when I realized who he was and before he could get to his feet, I was sprinting to the Great Hall.

I threw a lot of energy into avoiding him for the rest of the week . . . some way for the Great Morgana Montague to solver her problems, but I was a bit preoccupied with quidditch. We had a match against Hufflepuff on Saturday and it was the second to last before the quidditch cup matches began. Marcus hadn't been too hell bent on it until we encountered Davies one day in the corridors, the day after I woke up late and smashed into Oliver by the way.

We were walking, the team and I, including Graham, I had been talking with Marcus about something near the front the group when Davies and his posse of snotty, arrogant, wanna-be bad-ass ravenclaws came around the corner.

"Well," he said with a know-it-all tone, a trait I loathe in ravenclaws, "if it isn't the slytherin queen who went out with Wood."

I sneered at him, I still hated that title but for some reason the other houses kept it alive as though they knew it pissed me off. Oh and the word I had dated Oliver had gotten around too.

"Ah, but who is she with?" Davies continued, "why the troll-like slytherin king."

"Sod off, Davies," Graham snapped, coming up next to me.

I rolled my eyes, "Like Marcus would be the king of slytherin."

One of Davies cronies grinned, "Perhaps the queen of slytherin doesn't like kings."

My eyes widened in anger and before I could start wailing on him, I felt Derek's presence behind me and Marcus punched Davies in the jaw. "Fuck off , Davies! If you ever say anything like that again to Morgana you will think a punch merciful." He then kicked Davies in the stomach before the Ravenclaws surrounded them. Marcus pushed through them and we all continued on our way. Every since then, Marcus has wanted to slaughter the ravenclaw team like never before.

Those three days before the game and after the encounter had contained practices from hell. They lasted all day long practically and McGonagall had a great time yelling at us for not turning our homework in time. But despite this back-breaking work, upon the morning of the game I felt ready.

Graham gave us all a thumbs-up and left the locker rooms to go get his seat. I was busy tying my shoes as the guys began to leave the locker room, lining up on the ledge outside. I thought that they had all gone and was a bit startled when Derek tapped me on the shoulder. "Um, Morgan?"

I looked up then stood up, "Yeah Derek?" he appeared flustered and a bit embarrassed but I had no idea why. "Did the –" before I could finish he grabbed me. With a combination of both force and passion that only a testosterone driven male could pull off. His kiss was startling but that emotion is not new. Even though I knew Derek had had multiple girlfriends, he was a hottie by slytherin standards, out of the entire team, he ranks above Terrence, Adrian, Graham and Draco (if the little shit even counts) but beneath Marcus and Kevin. Those guys aren't ugly be any means either. But still, even with this knowledge in mind, I had never expected him to be so forceful or . . . skilled with his tongue and lips. Before I knew it, he had zoomed off because his name was called. I was breath-taken but at the same time, a hope deflated. That had been my chance to get over Oliver. To forget the gryffindor's charms once and for all but I couldn't because even though Derek's kiss was incredible, it didn't feel right, not like Oliver's did. I hated that and my head was spinning as I took flight into the air upon the call of, "Montague!"

The game went by quickly. Marcus seemed to be shouting at me more than usual. I didn't get the pleasure of slamming a bludger through Davies' face. It was Marcus who threw him off his broom to which the pleasure went. I did knock their seeker off their broom and bash a couple chasers into the bleachers.

We won by a landslide and Adrian said some of his buddies would hook the house up with food, as they always did. More like butterbeer and firewhiskey than food but all the same I guess. I had to wait for all the other guys to change and leave before I could . . . Graham has no absolutely refused to let me change when they are around period. It think it might have something to do with the looks Marcus has given me ever since the Valentine's Day ball. They weren't the friendly hateful looks that we gave eachother ever since second year . . .they were as though we were an item or something.

Anyway, so I was taking my time getting back to the castle and just before I descended down into the dungeons, I heard someone call my name. "Morgana!"

"Yeah?" I said turning around. Oliver was walking down the stairs towards me. I froze. He had my eyes locked and I couldn't tear myself away.

"You um, did really well in your game today," he said coming closer, searching for things to say.

"Thanks," I said, regaining my slytherin composure, "I would have though you would have been rooting for ravenclaw, I thought you were on good terms with Davies, and hated Flint."

"I wasn't rooting for the team," he said continuing to come closer. "I was rooting for you."

I took a step back and calmly said, "Oliver, what are you trying to do? You should hate me right now. Despise me and my entire house and . . . Can you please make yourself more clear?" I said, regaining myself at the end.

He look flustered and I learned from my mistake in not reading Derek's body language correctly. Just as he was about to take a hold of my shoulders, I pulled away. "I have had enough of people kissing me uninvitedly," I said sharply. "I am also sick of people expecting me to understand their bodies when they provide no words."I turned on my heel and stormed to the dungeons.

When I reached the portal however, I couldn't bring myself to enter. I leaned against the stone wall and held my face in hands, doing everything in power to hold back the sobs that wanted to come forth. "God dammit Morgana," I said to myself. "You are such an idiot."

After that day, we as a team began preparing for our next match against hufflepuff. We trained long hours and Derek seemed to avoid my gaze more than ever, as did Marcus. It was so peculiar but I was consumed by trying to stay on top of my advanced work that I didn't have time to ponder it. I hung around with Graham and Adrian a lot because frankly, being around my brother helped keep me sane and in tune with all this confusion buzzing around me.

The next Saturday, the day of our game with Hufflepuff, only two hours before kick off, Marcus assembled us for a team meeting, Graham always came to these even though he wasn't technically on the team anymore. As we all sat down, I tried to make eye contact with the guys to feel out the pretense of the meeting and I did not like it when they wouldn't meet my eyes. None of them. Except Graham, who looked clueless as to what the meeting was about.

"Now," Marcus began, pacing. "Let me get right to the point. In this next game, Morgana you will not be playing."

I stared at him, "What?"

The other guys seemed a bit surprised as well. "Why?" Derek asked.

"Because, Bole," Marcus snapped at him. "Morgana's playing has slipped and so in this next game, Montague will return as beater."

"Morgana, is Montague," Adrian said.

Terrence slapped him, "He means Graham, dumbass."

"What!" I shouted, bolting upright to my feet.

"What?" Graham said standing up as well.

"Montauge, you will be replacing your sister," Marcus said firmly.

"What the bloody hell?" I shouted at him. "Why, Flint? I helped kick ravenclaw's ass in that last game! I have been helping you win this entire season and you kick me off just like that? What the fuck are you thinking?"

"Seriously, Marcus . . ." Kevin said in my defense. "She's good."

"Graham is better," Marcus snapped at them. "And I want the best."

"This is hufflepuff!" I screamed. "And I am the best, Marcus! You know it! The team has beaten gryffindor three times since I have been on, that is more you can say for Graham!"

"Hey," my brother tried to defend himself but I was practically consumed by anger.

"Morgana if you don't shut up right now you will never see any other game!" Marcus thundered at him.

I stopped. I still had a shot. A brief flicker of hope to play again. But that didn't help the sinking feeling I was being swallowed up by. "Fuck you, Marcus. Fuck you." I calmly left the common room and went up to the girls bathrooms. I heard the guys continue to talk but I didn't bother to listen.

I ran the hot water into the tub and filled it with all sorts of herbo-therapy stuff my mum sends me. I hate herbology but I like the stuff she sends me sometimes. I dumped that in there and then sunk into the water, robes, clothes and all. I started to hum Moonlight Sonata as my long locks flowed around me, even though my ponytail was still in place. I inhaled the scents of the bath salts and embraced the feeling of being totally crushed. I would plot revenge later. But for now, I was far to gone in this new emotion to think even two hours into the future. Maybe this was what it was like when Graham saw Katie Bell with George Weasley . . . no, Perhaps this was what it was like when Ret left Scarlet. No, neither. This wasn't that pathetic because this had nothing to do with love of another, this had to do with love of a thing. The worst kind of love to embrace I suppose.

Roughly a half an hour later, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "Morgan?" it was Graham. He opened to door. When he saw me floating in the tub he gasped and quickly pulled me out. "Come on, snap out of it, Morgan."

"Shut up," I growled at him as he slung my arm over his shoulder. "You should be ecstatic for getting your position back."

"I should be but I'm not," he said as he took me up to my dorm. "You love it so much more than I ever could."

When we got to my dorm, he took me out of my wet robes and put me in new ones, I was so out of it that I didn't even think about it. I felt like dams had been built up behind my eyes and it hurt so bad I just wish they would break down and let me feel better.

After I was changed, Graham and I went down to the locker room, he borrowed my gear and sat on the bench, watching him get into my prized uniform. By the way, I wear a boys uniform so it fit him just fine.

It came time for the guys to line up at the ledge. "I'm sorry, Morgan," Terrence said as he past me.

"We'll talk to Marcus," Kevin said and Adrian nodded, "Don't worry we'll figure it out."

I was surprised when Draco said, "That's too bad, Montague but Flint will come to senses eventually."

Derek looked down at me as he walked past and his hand grazed my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Morgana."

Finally I looked up at Graham. He just stared back at me. "Morgan, I'm sorry. But I can't lie and say I am not happy to be playing."

"Just go, Graham," I said shaking my head. "Go."

He put his hand on my shoulder as he walked by me. "I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do right now."

"Bloody hell, just go!" I shouted at him. My brother went to the ledge , broom in hand.

I couldn't stand it, I left the locker room as they called the names. When Jordan began shouting, "Bletchley! Bole!" I leaned against walls of the seats and when they got to "Malfoy!" I sunk all the way down, knees up by my chest and when he said, "Montague!" I buried my face into my arms and for the first time since I was in about fourth year, I felt hot tears burn the backs of my eyelids. I still had a pride, even if it was a minuscule amount and it consisted of not allowing those tears to touch my cheeks. I hate salty things like that.

Author's Note: Wow! That was a long chapter! I expect lots of feedback because that covered at lot of ground! Haha, just kidding. Though feedback is nice. I want to thank all the kind people who have reviewed before and given me helpful feedback. I hoped you all liked the chapter. I busted my ass as day to get it to ya! I know Morgana doesn't seem like the type to cry but I strategically placed it so that it wasn't about any boys but about quidditch, something she loves more than anything if you can't tell. Oh and if the romantic presence of Derek and Marcus is making people nervous, don't worry, this will be an Oliver/Morgana romance . . . eventually. Mwahaha! I love torturing you all. See you in the next chapter!