"Game Plan" by Redcandle17
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling.
Marcus couldn't wait for the Slytherin practice session to end, both because his teammates were performing inadequately and because he'd be able to see Katie when it was over. His duty as Quidditch Captain, however, had to come first. "We are not leaving this pitch until you sons of bitches stop playing like fucking Hufflepuffs!" Marcus shouted, as the rest of the team landed and formed a circle around him.
"It's dark and we've been out here for two hours already," Bole complained.
Marcus contemplated taking the beater's bat away and whacking him in the head with it. He settled for snarling at him. "And we're going to stay here all damn night until you start playing like you want to win. That Quidditch-obsessed lunatic, Wood, will have his team practicing twenty four seven. And we ARE going to beat the Gryffindors, aren't we." He glared at each of them and they all quickly nodded.
"The game's two weeks away," Derrick said. "Why do we have to train this hard now?"
"Because I say so," Marcus snapped, losing his patience. "Bletchley, you let Spinnet get those penalty shots pass you ninety percent of the time. I don't know whether it's because you're too busy trying to see her tits through her robes or what, and I don't care. You'd better not let it happen in this year's game. Pucey is going to mimick Spinnet's style for the next half an hour and you'd better not let a single quaffle by."
Bletchley opened his mouth - maybe to point out that if the chasers and beaters didn't commit so many fouls then the Gryffindors wouldn't get any penalty shots for him to worry about - then wisely closed it without saying a word. He nodded at Marcus.
Marcus turned his attention to Derrick and Bole. "Keep those fucking bludgers away from me and the other chasers. If I get hit, I'm going to hit you, understand?"
"Yes, Marcus," the two beaters said in unison.
"Malfoy," Marcus said, turning to face the small, blonde seeker. "Get...the...snitch...before...Potter. Unless you enjoy losing to him."
Malfoy shook his head. "I'll get it this time," he said with determination.
"Teamwork," Marcus barked at Montague and Warrington. "Stop hogging the quaffle. If another chaser is in a better spot to score, give him the quaffle." Neither of the other two chasers pointed out that if anyone, it was Marcus who was the quaffle hog.
The rest of the training session went more smoothly and Marcus ended it after twenty minutes. As the team showered in their locker room, Montague turned to Marcus and asked, "So the plan with Bell, what is it exactly? How are you going to use your relationship with her against the Gryffindors?"
Marcus froze. The last few months with Katie had been the best time of his life. He'd forgotten all about his plan, except to assure himself occasionally that he had a plan. He tried to remember what the hell he'd been thinking when he began this entire thing. "Right before the game, I taunt the Gryffindors about it. They'll be shocked and appalled. They'll be too shaken to play their best. It's quite simple." The very idea made him feel nauseous now.
Warrington chuckled. "Simple but effective. I can just imagine the look on their faces. Maybe those hot-headed twins will attack you; we can get some penalty shots off them as soon as the game starts."
Marcus nodded and forced himself to laugh along with his teammates. What the hell was he going to do? He considered his options as he made his way to the sixth floor corridor that led nowhere. He could stick to his plan and have Katie hate him. He could do nothing and have his team think he'd gotten weak. Those were the only options he could see.
"Tough practice, love?" Katie asked as he reached her.
"Very." He forced all thoughts about the plan aside. "I have lots of sore spots you can kiss and make better."
"I'll try my best," she said before they kissed.
It wasn't staying away. Damn Montague for making him think about this tonight. He hadn't been able to be alone with Katie for four days, and he'd been eagerly anticipating just holding her up against the wall and pounding into her. He was leaving Hogwarts - finally - in two months. He could just delay the situation somehow. No, he couldn't. And what was going to happen with him and Katie when he left Hogwarts?
Katie'd been kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt, and now she stopped. "What's wrong, Marcus? You're so tense."
"Nothing. Let's go for a walk." He took hold of one of her hands and started walking down the hallway.
"Walk? Where? But I thought you wanted..."
"Is that all you think I want from you?" Marcus asked. He stopped and stared at Katie. "Do you think I only want you for sex? Do you even believe that I love you?"
"Of course I believe you love me. I wouldn't be here if I didn't love you."
"Why do you love me?" As he asked it, he realized the question had been bothering him for a while. All he gave her were sappy lines he'd borrowed from Bletchley and damn good but quick sex in dark corners of the school. They couldn't even be seen talking civilly to each other outside of the library and even then they'd had to come up with the excuse that Marcus was helping Katie with her DADA homework. Why did she, a Gryffindor girl and his Quidditch rival, love him? If he didn't love her, he would have laughed at her. It made no sense.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face against his chest. "You're my favorite snuggly troll," she said.
He laughed despite his troubling thoughts. "I'm serious, Katie."
"You treat me like I'm special...and you love me like I want to be loved."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I know you've never made the effort to be with other girls that you made with me. And...you're not going to like the next part," she warned.
He kissed her forehead. "Just say it."
"I accepted that Oliver could never love me the way I loved him. He and I can only ever be friends, never lovers."
"You're saying I'm Wood's sexual substitute?" It hurt. Funny, he hadn't wanted her to think that he only wanted sex from her, yet it never ocurred to him that maybe she only wanted sex from him. Though wasn't that why he'd decided to seduce her in particular? Because he'd thought she'd accept him if she didn't have Wood? Turned out that he was right.
"Marcus, it's not like that." She shook her head angrily. "If I only wanted sex, there are hundreds of other boys at this school, most of whom are not in Slytherin and not on the Slytherin Quidditch team. You think I'd set myself up for this much trouble just for sex?"
He didn't say anything, just held her tighter.
"I like having sex with you, yes. But I like being in your arms like this just as much. I like just sitting next to you in the library while I do my homework. I like that little smile you give me when we pass each other in the hallways between classes. I love you."
Sex and a smile and his company added up to love? It didn't seem right accurate. But then, he couldn't explain why he loved her either. It just was.
Katie sighed. "I'm sorry, Marcus," she said. "I shouldn't have said that. No one wants to hear that they're being used to replace someone else. I should have remembered that. But you make me forget things I should remember. I used to think that Oliver was the love of my life, but I know that that was just a silly crush. I love you."
He kissed her then, and she eagerly responded. She seemed desperate to prove something, either to herself or to him. Her kisses were rougher than usual and her fingernails were digging painfully into the back of his neck. He liked it, but it wasn't like her. He broke the kiss. "What's wrong, Katie?"
"Nothing." She rapidly unbuttoned his shirt.
"I know you by now, sweetheart." He stopped her as she tried to unzip his pants. "Tell me what's bothering you."
"You really want to know what's wrong?" She took a few steps back, away from him. "Then you tell me what's wrong."
"Huh?" The others had warned him about this. They'd told him that sometimes girls got mad over things guys never even noticed and that they never said why they were upset.
"Tell me why you're doing this." Katie hugged herself, like she was cold. Marcus took a few steps towards her, to hold her. She backed away.
"What are you talking about?" Marcus asked impatiently.
"I can't do this anymore. I told you the truth before, except for one thing. I lied when I said that I believe you love me. I'm not that stupid, Marcus, despite what you may think of me."
Marcus was truly confused and a pit of dread was building in his stomach. "I don't think you're stupid. And, of course, I love you."
Katie laughed bitterly. "Look, the game's only a couple of weeks away. You can stop pretending. Unless you're determined to squeeze the last bit of entertainment out of me that you can get."
Marcus suddenly realized what she was talking about. He could have sworn that the hallway had gotten much, much colder. "Stop saying that. I do love you," he said softly.
"God." She shook her head. "You really think I'm dumber than Bole, don't you? You think you could start stalking me in the library and I wouldn't notice it? You think I'd believe that you, Marcus Flint, was madly in love with me? Well, sorry to disappoint you, Marcus, but I'm not that stupid. I want to know why, though. What did you hope to use me for? Just to boost your team's morale by telling them you'd fucked me? Or did you have something more planned?"
"All right, all right. Maybe I was trying to play with your teammates' heads, trying to throw you Gryffindors off your game a little. But that was way back in October. I love you now."
"Please stop insulting my intelligence, Marcus. It's making me angrier than you trying to seduce me ever did. You're the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and you expect me to believe that you love me, Katie Bell, a Gryffindor, a Gryffindor chaser!" she yelled. Then she lowered her voice. " I did fall in love with you, you know. And I let myself pretend that you loved me too. But the match is two weeks away, and I know you're going to do whatever you had planned soon."
"I'm not planning anything," Marcus said dully. "You're never going to believe me, are you?"
"No, you're Marcus Flint," she said, as if his name explained it all.
"Then I'll see you on the pitch. Have a nice life, Bell."
