A/N: A big thank you to everybody that's still reading and reviewing and to all new readers, too! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 19: Nothing But Trouble

The rest of January went by fast. Marcus cancelled all the practices he had scheduled for the team that month, refusing to give a reason. Poppy didn't mind the extra free time and didn't worry too much since they wouldn't play another game until March. Over the weeks, she noticed seeing Marcus less and less anywhere. He seemed to have disappeared, only showing up occasionally to breakfast or supper.

After the victory party, some Slytherins had gone right back to hating Poppy with burning passion, most were still indifferent and the rest seemed to actually accept her as one of their own, especially members of the Quidditch team. Students no longer stopped talking if she entered the room or scooted to sit further away from her at The Great Hall. Montague had even asked her to join him in his favorite broom cupboard but Poppy had politely declined the offer.

On the first Saturday of February, Gryffindor played against Ravenclaw. Gryffindor won, even though Harry Potter was the target of attempted sabotage when Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus dressed up as dementors and ran out to the field only to be chased down by Potter's Patronus charm. After the game, a furious and red-faced Professor McGonagall had taken them somewhere to be reprimanded.

"That was really stupid," Montague said, laughing as the four boys entered the common room. Some Slytherins laughed along with him while others looked at Malfoy and the others with disdain. "But it was hilarious!"

"Shut up, Graham," Malfoy muttered and ushered his two friends to their dormitory. Marcus threw himself on a couch, glaring at Montague who was laughing so hard he nearly fell from his chair. Poppy was curled up under a checkered blanket in an armchair, reading her Muggle Studies book. For once in her life, she agreed with Graham Montague on something. The boys' stunt had been incredibly idiotic, the kind of thing that could get a team disqualified from playing. When she learned Marcus was a part of it, she questioned his sanity, and to an extent, her own.

"I told you not to do it," Montague said to Marcus, finally toning down the laughter. "You know how Malfoy's plans always turn out."

"I needed a laugh," Marcus mumbled.

"Clearly it worked, you're downright ecstatic right now," Montague said jokingly. "Poppy, come cheer him up, love?"

"Shut up, Graham," Poppy said, lifting her eyes from the book and shooting a deadly glare at Montague.

"Alright, sorry. I thought he was more your type," Montague said, turning to Marcus. "You know she turned me down?"

"You don't say," Marcus said dryly.

"Yeah. I was left wondering how you ever managed to bag a girl like that, if she wouldn't go for a classy guy like me. Then again, I guess you weren't good enough, either."

"You'd be wise to shut your mouth right about now," Marcus muttered, clenching his fists.

"Lighten up, captain," Montague said with a big smile. "I'm only messing with you. But really, you should move on. I hear she likes gingers now."

Poppy looked up from her book, eyes wide with horror. The next Hogsmeade visit was only a week away and Oliver, in an attempt to cheer Poppy up, had arranged a date for her. George Weasley was supposed to take Poppy and show her a good time around the village. She didn't even want to go, though he was a nice boy, and had only agreed to it to make Oliver shut up. He was sure she was on the verge of falling into depression and had clearly thought it was his job to find an appropriate date for her. How did Montague already know who she was going with when she hadn't even told Grace yet?

Marcus turned his head towards Poppy, his lips pursed and brows furrowed.

"Gingers, eh?" he said, staring right into her eyes. Poppy was silent and tried to avoid his gaze.

"Word is, George Weasley will be her next victim," Montague said. "Any advice for the poor bloke?"

"Tell him to stay away," Marcus grunted. "This one's nothing but trouble."

Whatever problems she had hating him before, were definitely gone now. She stormed out as quickly as she could before the tears started rushing down her cheeks, leaving behind her book and blanket. Now she was sure he hated her. Maybe their whole relationship had been a lie, just something to pass the time with, maybe to bother Oliver. A ploy to break him in their last year as opposing captains. She didn't want to think it true but given his history, it was hard not to.

"It's all in good fun, love, don't be upset!"

She heard Montague yelling after her but wasn't going to stop. She ran down the steps to her dormitory, threw herself on her bed, crying. It had been a long time since she last shed a tear for Marcus and she wouldn't let there be a next time. She decided to let her newfound hatred for him be the kick she needed to develop thicker skin. Wiping her tears on her sleeve, she got up to check herself in the mirror. The mascara Grace had given her was truly amazing, as Grace had said, it hadn't even budged. Taking a deep breath, she gathered herself. Her eyes were only a little red, probably unnoticeable to a boy, so she returned to the common room to fetch her things.

Marcus and Montague were still lounging around. Montague got up when he noticed Poppy and came over.

"You alright?" he asked, picking up her book from the floor where it had fallen. "I get carried away sometimes, didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's fine," Poppy muttered and took the book. She grabbed her blanket and threw it on the nook of her arm.

Montague was a strange boy. He had a cruel sense of humor and didn't seem to have any filter regarding what he said and to whom but he wasn't mean-spirited. He apologized if he saw the need to but for some of the targets of his jokes, that wasn't enough and he got into a lot of fights. Sometimes Poppy appreciated his honesty and direct words but now and then, he could be really hurtful. Earlier in the year he had made Victoria cry by asking her if she dyed her hair red to look more like her boyfriends former girlfriend. She did, everybody knew it, but it was just one of those things you weren't supposed to mention. In a way, Montague reminded Poppy of Grace, though Grace usually only made mean-but-true comments about herself or Poppy.

Poppy could see why many girls, mostly Slytherins, had their sights set on Montague. He was from a wealthy family, in good shape and had thick, dark brown hair and dark eyes. He was also rumoured to become the next Quidditch captain. Even some of Poppy's roommates had said Montague would be the perfect boy to marry after school. Poppy had wondered how they could say that without ever talking to him, but she also knew many of their parent's marriages had been semi-arranged.

"Marcus here is a bit of a grump," Montague laughed, making Poppy chuckle.

"True," Poppy said. "Bitter, too."

Marcus glanced in her direction. Catching his eye, she flashed a big smile.

"Graham, if it doesn't work out with the Weasley, I'll know where to find you," she said before going down the steps, trying to convey that she was now, finally, over Marcus. She obviously had no interest in Montague, but figured who better to use to prove a point. She knew Marcus probably cared zero to none about who she dated but still, she thought she saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes.

A week later, the morning of the Hogsmeade visit, Poppy was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson at breakfast. She had worn the earrings Marcus gave her for Christmas.

"They're so beautiful," Pansy admired. "Aren't they beautiful, Draco?"

Malfoy glanced over and shrugged.

"I don't know," he said, uninterested. "At least they're Slytherin green."

"Where did you get them?" Pansy asked Poppy.

"A gift, from-," Poppy hesitated. Marcus wasn't sitting far away, she knew he heard their conversation as he was throwing quick looks in their direction. "From nobody important."

A loud shattering sound caught all the students' attention. Marcus had squeezed his glass of orange juice so hard it broke in his hand. Blood was gushing from the cuts made by glass shards. He sat there, staring at his hand in shock and almost all Slytherins were staring at him. As students started whispering, he snapped out of shock and jumped up from his seat.

"Don't you people have anything better to do?" he yelled. Poppy had been staring like everyone else, but quickly turned away when Marcus looked her way. From the corner of her eye, she saw him holding a napkin to his hand. In mere seconds, it was completely stained by blood.

"Uh, mate, maybe you should to to the hospital wing," Montague carefully suggested from across the table.

"Uh, mate, mind your own fucking business," Marcus snarled before leaving the scene in a huff.

During their date, Poppy really tried to like George Weasley so he'd have something positive to report back to Oliver. They were sitting in The Three Broomsticks, enjoying two butterbeers.

"Oliver told me you like Herbology," George said in an attempt to create conversation. "I've always been bad with plants."

"It's one of my favourite subjects," she replied simply while noticing his features. He wasn't bad looking. He was rather tall, not quite as tall as Marcus but definitely Oliver's height. He had broad shoulders, hair the colour of fire and freckles all over his face and neck. He wasn't typically handsome, for sure, but he was cute.

"Not a common combination, though, Quidditch and Herbology," George pondered. "Not many people like both."

"You'd be surprised," Poppy said with a smile and took a sip of her butterbeer.

"I like your earrings," George said, changing the subject.

"Thank you. They were a gift, from-," she hesitated again, but George caught on and raised his left eyebrow.

"From Flint?" he asked.

"How did you know?" Poppy replied. She felt her cheeks burning. She didn't want George to tell Oliver about this.

"Lucky guess. I get the feeling you don't really want to be here with me," he said with a slight smile.

"Please, don't be offended," she said apologetically. George shook his head.

"No, I understand. I'm only here because Oliver insisted. I mean, you're very beautiful but you're very short," he quipped.

"What?" Poppy asked and burst into laughter.

"Do you prefer vertically challenged?"

She laughed, he really was funny. And smart. And safe. If she had felt any kind of connection to him, he could've been the perfect boy for her. No drama, no trouble. The spark just wasn't there.

"So, what do you say we part ways and just tell Oliver it wasn't meant to be?" George suggested with a wink.

"Sounds good," Poppy replied, relieved that he seemed to understand the situation.

After wandering around the village awhile, Poppy found Grace and Cedric at Honeydukes. Grace noticed her and for a moment they stared at each other until running to hug one another.

"I'm so sorry for ignoring you!" Poppy blurted out as they broke free from the hug. Grace smiled kindly.

"No, really, it's my fault," she said. "I should have spent more time with you alone and not abandon you for a boy."

"No, you tried to include me but I didn't want to put a damper on your happiness so I ignored you," Poppy argued.

"Maybe we were both at fault," Grace said with a big smile and Poppy chuckled before agreeing.

After deciding to go somewhere to talk, Grace told Cedric he couldn't join the girls in the pub and he understood, saying he had to check out new Quidditch gloves. They parted ways. Poppy and Grace found a nice and quiet corner table at The Three Broomsticks and settled in with drinks.

"I heard you had a date with George Weasley," Grace said while unwrapping her huge scarf and placing it on the back of her chair, on top of her coat.

"Yes, I did. It was Oliver's attempt at cheering me up. Didn't really work out," Poppy replied.

"Ah, Oliver. I was wondering why you would go out with George, he's not your type at all."

"I don't have a type," Poppy argued. Grace just smiled and grabbed her butterbeer.

"Hey, Poppy," Montague hollered from across the pub and approached the girls' table. He noticed Grace. "Is this your friend, the school slag?"

"What?" Grace said, nearly choking on the butterbeer she'd been sipping.

"No offense, you know," Montague said, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks were slightly flushed.

"None taken," Grace said with a wide smile. "I like having a title."

Montague flashed his signature big, bright smile in Grace's direction. It was the smile that had turned many girls legs into jelly.

"Uh, did you need something?" Poppy interrupted, noticing that Grace had begun fluttering her eyelashes at Montague.

"Flint wants to see you, by the Shrieking Shack," he responded, still staring at Grace. "Alone. Soon as possible."

"Alright, well I think it's time I returned Grace to her boyfriend, anyway," Poppy said, snapping both Grace and Graham out of their thoughts. "Thanks, Graham."

"No problem," he said, turned around looking slightly disappointed and trotted away.

"He's cute. I think he's in my Charms class," Grace said immediately as he was out of hearing distance. "Is he single?"

"He's a notorius ladies man, who will share the intimate details of his conquests with anyone willing to listen," Poppy explained. "So, technically, yes, but Grace, you don't want to go there."

"Why not?" Grace asked with a frown.

"Did you not hear me? Besides, you have Cedric," Poppy reminded her friend. Grace sighed loudly.

"But I'm bored of Cedric."

"Bored? You've been going out two months!"

"My personal record, really," Grace said. "He's just too nice. I mean, he's gorgeous and I really do like him. He just acts as if we've been married for twenty years, there's no spark. Everything we do is routine."

"Routine? How?" Poppy asked.

"Every morning, he waits for me in the common room, kisses me on the cheek and then we hold hands as we go to breakfast. He butters my toast for me and pours my juice. Then he walks me to class, gives me a kiss and wishes me a nice day."

"Oh, you would hate that, wouldn't you?" Poppy said, understanding the problem. Grace got irrationally angry if she had two days in a row with the exact same class schedule or if she had to eat the same thing for lunch and supper. Doing the same things with Cedric everyday for two months was surely driving her crazy.

"What do you think Flint wants?" Grace asked, as Poppy began putting on her coat and scarf.

"I don't know, I don't care," Poppy said. "A week ago he said I'm nothing but trouble, and after that I stopped caring what he thinks."

Poppy arrived at the Shrieking Shack and found Marcus sitting on a tree stump. Not wanting to get too close, she stopped about twelve feet away from him.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled, getting up. He had his hands in his pockets.

They stared at each other for a while. Poppy was trying to read his mood but his face seemed expressionless. He was wearing the scarf she had made him.

"What did you want?" Poppy asked snarkily.

"I just wanted to ask you, if you're actively trying to ruin my life or if that's just a bonus for you?" he asked, completely deadpan.

"What? I'm ruining your life? How?" Poppy asked, raising her voice. He had been the one to end things between them, not her. He was the one who was acting as if nothing ever happened between them.

"You flirt with Montague, go on a date with that Weasel, and wear the earrings I gave you but act as if they mean nothing to you! And you expect me to, what, just sit back and watch?" Marcus yelled. His face was turning red and he had taken his hands out his pockets. His left hand was wrapped in gauze. She stepped back, confused.

"I'm doing what you told me to do, trying to get over you. You're the one that's been acting up. You got drunk and punched Adrian for... For what, exactly?" she asked, trying to remain calm, a million thoughts buzzing in her head.

"He didn't like hearing how he'll never have you and hit me first. He deserved it, for being pathetic," Marcus muttered.

"You said I'm nothing but trouble," Poppy said, her voice shaking a little.

"I thought it would make it easier for you to move on if you hated me," he replied and then spitefully added, "but clearly, moving on has been no problem for you."

"You hate me! I'm just trying to cope with that!" she yelled at him, her face red and fuming.

"Hate you?" he asked loudly, with disbelief. "I love you!"

"What?"