2
Katie's eyes slowly fluttered open three days after the accident on the pitch; her shoulder and knee were throbbing, and as her eyes tried to bring the world into focus, she became aware of how silent the room was. There was no cheerful laughter echoing, nor was there the comforting crackle of a fire. Disoriented, and beginning to feel the first stirrings of fear, Katie fought back tears of desolation. Those feelings rose and thickened, and feeling more alone that she ever had, Katie was unable to stop the sound that escaped her lips.
Half gasp - half sob, it escaped her lips; it echoed through the silence of the medi-ward, only to have the silence break when a chair to her right creaked. The sound was followed by shuffling footsteps, footsteps that bought stormy grey eyes into her view. Black eyebrow drew together and Katie's lips parted in surprise when she saw that it was Marcus Flint frowning down at her. The silence between them stretched and grew brittle, so much so, that when Marcus finally spoke, Katie flinched.
"It's about time you woke up," he said gruffly.
Feeling like an insect being scrutinised by a bird, Katie struggled to sit up, and failed miserably. Marcus tilted his head slightly as he watched her attempt to sit up a second time, and then huffed in annoyance. He slid a calloused hand beneath her neck in support, stilling Katie's struggles, and causing her to look up in surprise. And when she gripped the arm he used to support her, Marcus slowly pulled her upright.
He kept his left arm by his side as he lifted her into a sitting position; a soft hiss of pain escaped his lips when Katie slumped forward against him. Her head fell into the dip of his left shoulder as she was briefly overcome with vertigo, but she still heard the yelp of pain that Marcus tried to stifle. She felt his hand tighten around the back of her neck as nausea twisted her stomach into knots, and she was surprised as his thumb moved in slow circles against the base of her scull, lulling her into silence, and settling her stomach slowly as she breathed deliberately and deeply.
Katie concentrated on breathing while the buzzing in her ears reached a crescendo. She felt Marcus' hand slide down her back to rest briefly between her shoulder blades, and then it was gone, only to return a moment later. When Marcus lowered her back towards the bed, Katie felt the pillows he had propped up for her, and closed her eyes and fought against the roll of nausea that rippled through her.
"Breathe, Bell... it'll pass."
His voice was a quiet growl of gruffness, bring more comfort than Katie thought possible. When she opened her eyes again, Marcus was stepping away from the edge of her bed. His face was blank as he lowered himself carefully into a chair that was beside her bed, his pose one of indifference as he returned her gaze silently. Wrapping the blanket in the chair around his shoulders, Marcus covered the multicoloured bruising that mottled his shoulders and back. He lifted an eyebrow when he saw that Katie was staring at him, causing Katie to blush. But she hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor for nothing, and she refused to look away.
"What happened?" Katie asked when the silence between them became uncomfortable.
Marcus shrugged, and idly picked at the blanket's edge.
"Bludger destroyed your broom. You fell," he said finally.
Katie wrinkled her nose slightly, and then shook her head as more of her memories slowly became clearer.
"You caught me," she said slowly, and Marcus snorted.
"You knocked me off my broom," he said flatly, and Katie's eyes widened slightly.
"You caught me," she repeated, and Marcus' eyes darkened slightly.
"What of it?" he demanded, and Katie licked the corner of her lips.
"Nothing… just… thank you," she murmured, and Marcus jerked slightly in his seat.
"Whatever," he muttered a moment later and looked across the room silently.
"How long have we been in here?" she asked, and Marcus shrugged.
"Three long, boring days."
Katie nodded, a flicker of pain crossing her still too pale features. Marcus raised an eyebrow and sat forward slightly.
"Still hurt?" he asked, and Katie nodded. "Where?" he asked, and Katie shifted against the pillows.
"My shoulder...knee... it hurts all over. Do you know what my injuries were?" she asked, desperate to fill the silence that Marcus seemed content to let linger.
Marcus looked away from her, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows. Katie opened her mouth to repeat the question, only to break off when the infirmary door opened and Oliver walked in with Angelina. Oliver turned red when he saw Marcus sitting beside Katie's bed; he took in that Marcus was wearing nothing but low-slung hospital pants, and took several steps towards them angrily.
"What do you think you're doing, Flint?" he spat, and Marcus narrowed his eyes.
"What does it look like, Wood?" he asked coolly, and Oliver bristled.
"Knowing you, you're probably grilling Katie into giving up our Quidditch strategies! Typical Slytherin move - you'd take advantage of any situation, including an injured child!"
His Scottish accent thickened with anger as he took another couple of steps towards them. Marcus snorted as the girls exchanged exasperated looks. A cold smirk twisted Marcus' lips as he tilted his head in amusement, the disdain on his face as clear as day as he spoke slowly.
"Really? I didn't think that Bell was as stupid as you just made her out to be, Wood. Corruptible, sure - but not stupid. That position was always reserved for you."
"Corruptible? What the hell do you mean by corruptible?" Oliver squeaked, and Marcus smirked again.
"Look at your team, Wood. The twins share a single brain, and are more into taking the piss out of everyone than chasing girls. Potter's too young, too golden, and all round too much hard work. Now, unless she's into girls, she's plum out of luck with anyone on the Gryffindor team…considering you spend all your free time polishing your wood…"
Katie blushed at the subtle sexual innuendo that had Oliver spluttering in anger as Marcus smirked at him.
"So, what are you saying, Flint?" Oliver asked at last. "You think Katie would date someone from the Slytherin team?"
Marcus raised an eyebrow, and smirked.
"Given the right… incentive, why not? Bell might be the kind of girl who likes to live a little dangerously."
Katie looked between the two captains when Oliver drew himself up to his full height and glared at Marcus.
"You leave Katie alone - she's a good girl! She doesn't need the likes of you or your type of fun, Flint! I find you near her again? They'll need more than Skele-Gro potion!" Oliver hissed, and Marcus stood up slowly and gritted his teeth as he teetered momentarily on his feet.
"What are you saying, Wood? That I interfere with girls who are… how old are you again, Bell?" he asked, as his gaze flicked towards her. "All of twelve? Unlike certain other captains, with their predilection for abstaining from sex, I happen to like my witches with a few more years and a few more curves than Bell's got," he spat.
Katie flushed with humiliation as Oliver spluttered in anger.
"Stay away from my Quidditch team, Flint - stay away from Katie," Oliver warned again, and Marcus snickered coldly.
"Fine - next time I'll just let her fall." He turned to glance at Katie, his eyes glittering with temper. "The next time you wake up from a coma, do so quietly, Bell. I wouldn't want Wood thinking I was over here getting off on the fact that you woke up alone. Get Madam Pomfrey to give you a potion for the pain in your shoulder."
He turned away abruptly and shuffled towards his bed, affording the others a clear view of the bruising that covered his back. Black, blue and green from neck to hip, Marcus moved stiffly; his pain filled gait was slow and unsteady, and Oliver flushed again, though this time it was with shame. Marcus slowly eased down onto his bed and closed his eyes. His soft groan of pain unwillingly escaped through clenched teeth, and echoed in the quietness that had filled the medi-wing. Angelina turned to face Oliver in the silence that followed, her eyes shadowed over in disappointment.
"I think you'd better go, Ollie. I'll meet you back at Gryffindor tower," she said softly, and Oliver baulked.
"I'm here to talk to Katie about the game…" he began, only to have Angelina cut him off.
"And I think you've said enough. I don't want Katie to get too tired… or have to discuss Quidditch, when she's only just woken up from a bad fall."
Oliver's mouth opened and closed a few times, before he nodded sharply to Katie and turned on his heel and walked away. The girls watched him go, and Angelina bit back a giggle when in a rare display of childish temper, Katie stuck her tongue out at his retreating back. She sighed softly when the doors swung shut behind him, and looked over at Angelina.
"How you feeling, sweetie?" Angelina asked gently, taking a seat at Katie's side. Katie shrugged, but when Angelina reached out and covered Katie's hand with her own, Katie lifted haunted eyes and spoke haltingly.
"I'm so sore, that I feel like I'm going to be sick each time I breathe in. What happened, Angie?" she whispered and Angelina blanched in memory.
"There was an out-of-control bludger on the pitch – it barely missed Flint, and when it did, it flew up under you and destroyed your broom. You fell and collided with Flint. Then you both hit the pitch a moment later. There wasn't anything anyone could do, Katie. There wasn't even time for us to draw breath to call out a warning; one minute you were flying, the next you were falling... then you hit the ground."
"What were my injuries?" Katie whispered as Marcus' soft snores started to echo.
Angelina's hand tightened over Katie's, and for a long moment Katie thought that Angelina wasn't going to speak.
"The bludger shattered your knee. And when you... fell...you broke both arms and wrists," Angelina said finally. "You had them wrapped around Flint, and he landed on them. You dislocated your shoulder, tore it clean out of the socket. You also broke most of your ribs, from when he…" Angelina broke off and looked away for a moment. "Flint landed on his back, Katie. He broke your ribs, when he broke his back. His arms locked around you in spasm; Madam Pompfry said it was unavoidable," Angelina said softly.
Angelina looked across the room and frowned when Marcus winced as he shifted in the bed.
"He caught you when you collided with him. Your cloak twisted around him, but we all saw him lock his arms around you. He... he twisted mid air, and he took the brunt of the fall. It was almost... You landed on top of him, Katie - he made sure of it. If he hadn't...you would have died. He very nearly did."
Angelina stayed with Katie for a little while longer, until the younger girl's eyes slid shut again. She tucked Katie in, her hand gentle as she ran it across Katie's pale cheek. Leaving Katie's bed, she approached Marcus' silently, and stared down at the Slytherin Captain for a moment. Her eyebrows drawing together, Angelina bit her lip.
In her mind, she once more saw the fall that had landed Katie and Marcus in the hospital wing. She once more remembered the fear she had felt as she had stumbled to her knees at Katie's side, and willed back her tears as she recalled the sight of Katie unconscious on Marcus' chest, and the sight of his arms locked around Katie's thin frame. Her musings were broken when a hand closed vice like around her wrist. Marcus' eyes opened and he glared up at her.
"Have you ever wondered what happened to nosy little Gryffindors, who approach sleeping snakes?" he hissed, and tightened his grip when Angelina tried to tug her hand out of his.
Angelina glanced over her shoulder at Katie, and then back down at Marcus when he used his grip on her wrist to sit up slowly. The action bought them face-to-face; Marcus sneered at Angelina when she bit her lip, even as his face turned gray with pain.
"Katie means everything to me, Flint," she said finally, and the hand grasping her wrist loosened slightly.
"So, you came over here to tell me not to corrupt your little virgin princess, did you Johnson? Are you going to lock her up in the tower, so the big, bad Slytherin can't get to her?" he hissed, and Angelina shook her head slowly.
"No," she whispered, and Marcus sneered at her, before propelling her backwards a few steps by the wrist.
"According to Wood, maybe you should," he muttered, and Angelina smirked slowly.
"I don't need to lock her up, Flint - she'd hex you on principle alone. Lions don't mix well with snakes."
Angelina tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned around, only to pause and look back over her shoulder.
"And Flint? As the Captain of Slytherin, you are known for knowing each and every detail about the other teams you play against. Their strengths, their weaknesses, even what style of playing they favour. It's what makes you so formidable on the pitch. So, I'll excuse your lack of memory, and put it down to the fact that you have concussion, when I have to tell you that Katie's nearly fifteen - not twelve... but then... being the Captain that you are? You'd know that."
She smiled slyly when gray eyes snapped to hers, and after holding his gaze for a moment longer, she flounced away, leaving Marcus glowering after her. His eyes shifted back Katie's bed when she snuffled in her sleep, and then narrowed. Marcus laid back down and willed his body to mend quickly - he was sick of being stuck in the infirmary. It had nothing what so ever to do with the innocent gratitude he had seen shinning in Katie's eyes - or the knowledge that he'd seen in Johnson's.