Skinny, Little Gryffindor

His scathing gaze reached her across the field as she approached, quaffle in hand. Marcus Flint of Slytherin would do anything in his power to make sure that Katie Bell of Gryffindor didn't get past him to score a goal. He had his pride and his pride didn't let little Gryffindor girls score goals on him.

But Katie loved assaulting his pride.

Marcus' eyes narrowed as she fly closer at an unbelievable rate. Flint was ready for Katie to make her move as the roar of the crowd rolled over him. Katie was the only Gryffindor chaser on that side of the Pitch, the others were on the other end of the field, trying to attain the other quaffles. Marcus had never liked Katie Bell. She had always had an obscure arrogance that had bothered him beyond believe. He didn't understand why a Mudblood could have such a large ego... that should be a Slytherin trait, he thought.

Katie was swooping down on him as Marcus moved to counter her, flying in the direction that he thought Katie would throw the quaffle.

Suddenly she jerked her broom to the side and easily maneuvered around him, taking aim for the goal. She pulled her arm back to get ready to throw the quaffle when she felt a hand pulling her arm back.

Marcus had grabbed her arm, not letting her score on the empty net. Katie started to struggle but Marcus wouldn't let go, grabbing her other arm with his free hand. She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp but he wouldn't budge, his face contorted in sickening joy, his terrible teeth leering at her. Vaguly she could hear Madame Hotch's vain whistles but they were ignored.

Marcus refused to let Bell get the better of him. Not some skinny little Gryffindor girl. He kept a strong hold of her, yet her struggles began to be more violent. Other Gryffindors were flying towards them as Slytherins rushed to deflect them. He could hear people booing from the stands at Slytherin's foul play but he ignored them. The little girl would not get past him. He would stop her and that's all that mattered.

Katie's hand shot up to Flint's arm and tried to detch it. Her fingers enclosed his arm and she tried to pry his fingers off before jerking them violently and knocking bother her and Marcus off balance.

The crowd's boos had stopped, replaced by cheers. Harry Potter was racing for the Golden Snitch, regardless of Katie Bell's problem or Draco Malfoy hot on his heels. He retched out his fingers, hoping that they would come into contact with the snitch and felt the cool metal. He snaped his fingers shut on the Snitch, ending the game and turned his broom around just in time to see Katie and Flint fall from the sky, their bodies tangled together as the flew towards the ground.

Katie screamed as the ground hurtled towards her. She would of threw her arms infront of her to brace for the fall but Flint was still holding on to her with an iron gripe.

The ground was getting closer and closer and Katie's screams got louder and louder.

Then everything went black.

Marcus woke up in the Hospital Wing with his head aching. He vaguely heard the murmure of voices as he wondered why he was in the Hospital Wing. He slowly became more aware of where he was. Not only did his head ache, he realized but his mouth hurt terribly.

Bringing a tired hand to his mouth he vainly attempted to discover what was wrong with his mouth... his front teeth were no longer there but replaced with a gap he found quite offending. He had loved his hideous teeth and way they made people cower in fear just by looking at them and now they were gone.

Slowly the events on the Quidditch Pitch came back to him. He had tried to stop Bell from scoring on him and he had grabbed her. She had struggled so hard that finally she pulled them off both of their brooms and they had fell... and hit the ground almost 50 feet below.

Marcus felt a sick feeling wash over him and he struggled to sit up.

He realized that the voices were those of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and they were surrounding the sleeping Bell on the over side of the ward, talking furiously about what had happened.

Marcus slowly slide back into a laying position, hoping... no praying, that Wood wouldn't notice him and get the better of him in his weakened state. He shut his eye lids and watched Bell from garded eyes. She looked pale and worse for wear than Marcus himself looked he was sure. Her arm was in a sling and there were bruises all over her face and arms.

Serves her right for playing a sport that's only fit for men, he thought snidely.

He decided Bell wasn't worth his time. He remembered all the time she had mocked him, trying to suck up to Oliver bloody Wood. If there had been no Oliver, a voice in Marcus' head whispered, you would be after her, Mudblood or not.

Of course Marcus couldn't deny the voice. Bell was defenetly easy on the eyes with dark blond hair that was usually falling out of its lose pony tail, bright green eyes and a lithe figure. But she was hung up on Wood. Everyone knew it... except Wood, and everyone expected one day Wood open his blind eyes and see the girl standing in front of him.

Marcus didn't know why Wood hated him but he hated Wood because Wood could have Katie if he wanted to but he just sat there and did nothing but break the poor girl's heart with every breath he took.

Marcus slowly opened his eyes again and watched as Katie's fingers twitched on her bed as she searched for Wood's hand. Tentively Wood reached for her and enfolded her hand in his and from the other side of the ward Marcus could hear Katie sigh in content.

Marcus' eyes grew hard and he vowelled that even if he never had Katie Bell, neither would Oliver Wood.