Chapter 7: Bludgered
Poppy was laying in bed at the hospital wing. She was starting to think joining the Quidditch team was a bad idea. The thought occurred to her right as her teams beater swung a bludger towards her head. She was able to swerve so it didn't hit her in the head but instead broke three bones in her ribcage. Madam Pomfrey told her she had passed out and fallen from her broom.
Oliver had been to see her with Grace. He had seemed overjoyed when Poppy told him she had blocked most of the quaffles during her first practice with the Slytherin team. Oliver didn't seem to care much about the fact that she was in pain, insisting Poppy tell him everything and describe the situation second by second. Madam Pomfrey finally told him to get out when he started running around the room, re-enacting some of his finest Quidditch moments.
Unfortunately Madam Pomfrey also kicked out Grace, so Poppy could get some rest. Grace had brought her some chocolate frogs and an issue of Teen Witches Weekly so she wouldn't be bored.
Flint, however, had not been to see her, which Poppy thought was very rude. He was her captain, after all.
"Don't you think it's a bit rude when somebody gets injured and the captain of the team just ignores that person and their injury?" Poppy asked Madam Pomfrey, huffing with anger.
"What? Oh, you mean Mr. Flint? I wouldn't say he ignored you, he did carry you here and waited for an hour to see if you would wake up," Madam Pomfrey answered. "Then he had to leave for detention, I think."
"Oh," Poppy answered, a little stunned.
Madam Pomfrey began folding bedsheets. Poppy picked up the magazine Gracie had brought and flipped through it. It featured some of the newest players drafted by different Quidditch teams and Poppy was immediately interested. She was, however, disappointed when the article only discussed things such as the players' favourite desserts and whether or not they had any pets. It didn't even feature any players from Poppy's favourite team, The Falmouth Falcons. Poppy felt herself getting sleepy so she closed her eyes and hoped for sweet dreams. The pain in her ribcage was almost gone and she hoped to get out of the hospital wing by tomorrow.
Poppy was wakened in the middle of the night by a loud ruckus. There were no other patients in the hospital wing and there was a prisoner loose from Azkaban, so out of instinct, Poppy stopped breathing and was as still as possible. Her heart was beating fast. As if she hadn't been through enough already, now she had to worry about a murderer possibly roaming the hospital wing? After the ruckus she heard a man swearing but couldn't see anyone as the room was pitch black dark. She silently grabbed her wand from under her pillow and gripped it tightly, pointing it at the darkness.
"Lumos," the man said and a flash of light erupted from the tip of his wand. Poppy, still pointing her wand, now saw Marcus Flint standing in front of her, looking confused. His eyes shifted from Poppy's wand to her eyes and then back to the wand. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I thought you were Sirius Black," she responded and put down her wand. He chuckled.
"Right. He after you, too, then?" he asked, jokingly. Poppy sat up on her bed and rolled her eyes at him. "I guess you're feeling better?"
"I'm alright," Poppy responded. "What are you doing here? Other than giving me nightmares?"
"I'm your captain, and it's my responsibility to make sure you're alright," Flint said, sitting down on the bed next to hers.
"Well I am, so you can just leave," Poppy said snarkily. "And you shouldn't be here, you could get another week of detention if someone catches you."
"Are you worried about me, Wood?" Flint smirked. Poppy ignored him, crossing her arms. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with his wand.
"You can't smoke in here!" Poppy gasped.
"As if I care," he said.
"I have a name, you know," she said, watching him blow smoke in the air. He raised an eyebrow. "You called me Wood. That's what you call Oliver. I prefer Poppy."
"You call me Flint, remember?" he replied.
"Everyone calls you Flint," Poppy said.
"That's because they're scared of me," Flint said. "But you're not."
"True, I don't find you particularly scary," Poppy said matter-of-factly. "I'll call you Marcus if you call me Poppy."
The scent and smoke of Marcus's cigarette lingered in the air. Poppy fiddled with her thumbs and was a little embarrassed by the teddy bear pyjamas Madam Pomfrey had given her to sleep in.
"So, between now and yesterday, what changed?" she asked, finally breaking the silence.
"Well, when I saw you falling off your broom and smash into the ground, I wanted to kill Derrick. I'm usually not a violent person," Marcus replied.
Poppy laughed and he smirked again.
"I realised you might need some protection to make it out of this team alive," he said.
"So, we're friends? Poppy asked.
"No, definitely not," Marcus answered. "I'll tolerate you for the sake of team spirit so they don't try to kill you."
"Alright," Poppy said, amused.
"Just don't expect me to be nice to you and we'll be just fine."
He got up and turned around to leave but then remembered something.
"Oh, yeah, I brought you this," he said and handed her a clothing item of some kind. "The pyjamas Madam Pomfrey has are not the most comfortable."
"Thanks," Poppy said.
Marcus left and Poppy changed her pyjama into the t-shirt Marcus had brought. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror by the moonlight and smiled when she noticed the print "Falmouth Falcons" on the shirt.
The next day, Poppy was sitting in the corner of the library with Grace, trying to be as quiet as possible. Grace was supposed to be working on her assignment for Defense Against the Dark Arts since it was already a week late but professor Lupin had given her an extension. Teachers had always had a soft spot for Grace because of her bright blue eyes and all the sweets she carried with her. Poppy was trying to help her friend concentrate on the assignment but Grace's mind kept wandering to other places.
"For the last time, we're just friends," Poppy said and looked at her friend with a serious face. "And we're really not even friends, we're... Tolerating each other."
"That makes no sense," Grace said.
"Grace, you're supposed to be working!" Poppy said.
"I just want you to understand that he brought you his shirt," Grace said.
"So?"
"It's his shirt! Boys don't hand those out to just anybody."
"I'm going to give it back."
"Bloody hell you are."
Poppy was about to argue her friend when she noticed her staring at something near the Potions section of the library. "What is it?"
"Your captain is over there," Grace said. Poppy turned her head and saw Marcus waving her over.
"I should probably go," Poppy said, got up and walked over to Marcus who pulled out a frazzled Derrick, their teams beater, from behind a bookshelf. He was a large boy, nearly as wide as he was tall, with sandy, coarse hair.
"Now, remember what we talked about?" Marcus asked him. Derrick was looking at Poppy smugly so Marcus punched him in the stomach.
"Flint!" Poppy screamed. Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"Please don't yell, Poppy, this is the library," he said and turned back to Derrick who was now whincing with pain. "Now do you remember?"
"Fine!" Derrick yelled and everyone at the library was now looking at their little scene. "What are you all staring at?"
"May I ask what is happening here?" Poppy questioned.
"He's apologizing, aren't you, Derrick?" Marcus said.
"I guess I'm sorry for accidentally hitting you with the bludger," Derrick said with a grin.
"Accidentally? You call that an accident, I saw you aim it right at me!" Poppy yelled.
"It was an accident, I apologized, can I go now?" Derrick said and Marcus nodded. Marcus let go of him and he hurried away quickly.
"You told me you wanted to kill him and that's all I get? A lousy, forced apology?" Poppy asked, annoyed.
"I can't kill him, he's our best beater. He knows, if he does anything similar again, I won't leave it at three punches."
"You only punched him once."
"Right. Yeah," he muttered.