Send My Regards

Chapter Six

Oliver took longer to get dressed as he let his mind wander to the events he was just informed of. Did the attacks have anything to do with the owl he received? He worried about Angelina, even though the ref had said there were no injuries.

The locker room emptied as his team piled out onto the pitch for the head count. Oliver sighed and gingerly peeled his Quidditch sweater off and tossed it in his locker. His muscles ached with every move; torn and bruised from Katie's she-beast attack. He took notice in a particularly large bruise on his upper arm where he had hit the goal hoop falling to earth.

"Hey."

Oliver looked up. Katie was standing in the locker room doorway. "Hello," Wood replied and went back to examining his arm.

Katie blushed; both from guilt and the site of Oliver without his shirt on. Even from where she stood she could see the defining contours of his muscles flex as he moved. She licked her lips and dared to approach him. "Are you ok?"

"Yes," he replied.

"What's wrong with your arm?" She straddled the bench at his side.

Oliver could suddenly smell the sweet aroma of Katie's hair and it had an instant calming effect on him. After a deep breath, he finally looked up at her. "Just a scratch."

"Let me see."

Katie leaned in to gently brush her fingers over the tender bruise; watching Oliver's bicep contract under her touch. It was rather wicked looking...the bruise, that is.

As she continued to study it, she didn't notice Oliver gazing calmly at her; his eyes taking in her pretty features with a sort of wonderment. Her sweet-smelling hair continued to relax him. When she looked up, he quickly adverted his eyes and blushed.

"That looks pretty painful," Katie said. "Awww, want me to kiss it all better?"

She smiled but Oliver went even redder. What a positively silly idea! Yet, he found himself smirking and shyly holding out his arm. Katie gave it a little kiss and then pushed him playfully. "That's what you get for calling me a little girl!"

"I didn't! You can't hold me liable for the actions of my team mates!"

Katie grinned but then noticed Oliver growing uncomfortable again. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing."

This couldn't be further from the truth. There was something peculiar, still, about how Katie made him feel that was altogether foreign to him. Over the last couple years, as they had both grown into adults, figuring out how she reduced him to a jumbled mess only became harder. The feeling was a protectiveness and admiration but something was missing he couldn't quite put his finger on. Even just sitting with her like this made his stomach do flip flops and the kiss upon his arm, as silly as it was, sent his head spinning. Bell was going to drive him mad; he knew it.

Katie, however, was oblivious to Oliver's inner turmoil. She teased him. "Are you still upset about me kicking your ass, Oli? Awww, I won't tell too many people."

"No. That's not it."

"Well, then what is it?"

Oliver quickly thought of an excuse. He couldn't very well tell her what was going on his mind! So he made up something that wasn't completely untrue. "I want to check on Angelina."

Katie's face slightly dropped. Her cheeks became hot and red. Was he really worried or was he just looking for an excuse to leave? After all, the ref had told them that no one had been injured. Angelina was a tough girl and it wasn't the first attack on a Quidditch game so Katie wasn't altogether worried. She understood Oliver's concern but felt shot down nonetheless. She just wanted to spend some time with him, after all; him being her best mate. "Oh," she said dejectedly. "Ok. Well...um...sorry for holding you back. I'll let you get dressed."

She stood and hurried out of the locker room with her fists clenched, leaving Oliver baffled and frantic on the bench. He couldn't figure out why Katie had suddenly become so snappy or why he felt so frightened about it; like he lost the chance for something big. "Katie!" was the first thing that popped out of his mouth. Anything to get her attention back. She spun. "I'll...see you later perhaps?"

Katie crossed her arms and gave him a dark glare. "Gee, I don't know. Think you can pencil me in? Sounds like you're all booked."

With that, she whipped around and stormed out of the locker room.

***

Angelina and Marcus took off on foot the moment they landed in London. They weaved through the alleys and buildings; never stopping once for a rest. Angelina's hand was still tightly in Marcus's and she stumbled behind him. She wanted to ask him what was happening but she felt dizzy and sick from hitting her head. Was their fight just a bad dream?

Marcus pulled her into the abandoned underground and down the rusty tracks. Their footsteps and breathing echoed down the tunnel, drowning out the loud buzz of overhead lamps. They reached the trap door and when Marcus swung it open, Angelina knew to immediately climb down, no questions asked. Marcus landed behind her and ushered her to the control room door and she found her self so overwhelmed that she couldn't make her own feet move without him pulling her. They hurried past the ragged occupants of the station who stared at Angelina with confused expressions that could easily rival her own.

Marcus frantically glanced about for his mother and found her at the end of the station with a bottle of firewhiskey. She gasped in surprise when he came up behind her and ripped the bottle from her hands.

"Stop drinking!" he scolded and was about the chuck the whiskey out onto the tracks when he paused and finished off the bottle himself. Immediately, the alcohol soothed his nerves. He finished and then threw the bottle away; wiping his mouth and panting.

Angelina stood at his side looking hopeless and frightened. She watched him and then noticed Victoria also looking equally as baffled. Both stared at him for an explanation. Marcus felt the eyes on him and stared back for a moment more before rolling his eyes and getting introductions out of the way. "Angelina, my mum. Mum, Angelina," he said breathlessly; throwing his arms up pathetically between them to point.

The two women shared an awkward glance. Angelina's heart was racing painfully and her head still hurt. She looked so confused that she was on the verge of tears. "Marcus..."

He finally calmed down enough to look at her and felt his heart shatter at the exhausted look on her face. She was pale and probably concussed and he had caused her this pain. "Come here," he said and gently took a hold of her arms.

Angelina wouldn't be fooled so easily, though. She shook her head and weakly pushed away from his chest to stare into his eyes; trying to find any truth in them. "What is going on?"

But before Marcus could answer, Angelina's dizziness and disorientation was too overwhelming and she slowly began to pass out. Marcus caught her in a flash and eased her down onto Victoria's proffered blanket. He smoothed some of the hair from her face and made her as comfortable as possible; kneeling by her side and never taking his eyes off her.

Never again.

"Marcus," Victoria whispered. "What's happened?"

He looked around and saw that several station occupants were listening in curiously. "Come on," he grumbled to his mother and led her to the back of the underground where the light was dim. His grip was strong on her wrist and she protested slightly.

"Marcus..."

He immediately released her. "Father attacked Angelina's game. I was there. He tried to hex her right from the stands."

Victoria looked horrified. "What? Did anyone catch him?"

"I didn't fucking stick around to find out! I grabbed Angelina and got the hell out of there! I'm going to kill him! I'm going to rip his damn heart out and use it for Quidditch practice! This is going to end tonight!"

"Marcus, please don't do anything reckless!"

"Reckless?! RECKLESS?! How many bottles of fucking booze have you had since I left? Don't hand me bullshit about recklessness. Did you steal that bottle?"

Victoria blushed. "I...Marcus, I can't just--."

He jabbed a finger in her face. "Well, you'd better fucking try. This is the shit that has you living in an abandoned underground like a hag."

Victoria stared at the ground; feeling a lump in her throat so large that she found it hard to swallow. Her face flushed with embarrassment. Marcus was right, though. She had to focus. "I'm sorry. Is...there anything I can do now?"

"...No." Marcus let his shoulders drop and his voice softened. "Johnson has to rest. Leave us be." He walked past his mother and back to where Angelina slept and knelt by her side again. It was going to be a long night.

***

William Flint showed absolutely no remorse in his failed attempt to assassinate Marcus and his precious little cow. On the contrary: he sat calm and collected in the very chair Marcus was one chained to. A thoughtful smirk played across his lips. Sitting in the Death Eater base, he couldn't believe his luck. The attack had backfired but none of that really mattered, for the aftermath was going to be far more impressive. William chuckled and re-read the newly-issued Daily Prophet.

Disgruntled Falmouth Falcons

Chaser Kidnaps a Holyhead Harpy!

He read the entire article again; finding it more delightful every time. The attacks at the Holyhead Harpy's game had been blamed on the man trying to violently enter the grounds without a pass; later identified as Marcus Riley Flint. After he disappeared with Angelina, worried team mates later confessed they heard them fighting in the locker rooms and then accused Marcus of kidnapping her in a fit of rage.

William threw back his head and laughed. Finding his son and his bitch would be so much easier with the entire Quidditch community after him too. In the meantime, there was work to be done. William's second promise had to be fulfilled. He warned Marcus that he would kill everyone he knew if need be, starting with his Quidditch team. With everyone so focused on the Harpies and Marcus's sudden violent fixation with them; killing the Falmouth players one by one would aid everyone's suspicions that Marcus Flint had finally gone mental. And when the time was right, everyone would discover that he was the son of a Death Eater.

Maybe I won't kill him. Watching him scream in terror as a dementor sucks out his soul would be so much more satisfying.

William smirked, tossed his wand in the air, and caught it expertly. Time to get to work.

***

It was like Katie was a time bomb as she stood with her arms folded across her chest and her jaw tightly set for headcount. Oliver stood nervously at her side; casting her glances out of the corner of his eye. He still couldn't figure out why she was so angry with him all of a sudden.

The ref counted the players and then commenced with further information regarding the attacks. Everyone listened with tension all except Oliver and Katie; who looked more concerned with their own personal strife rather than the hexes thrown at the Holyhead pitch.

Oliver whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "What's wrong?"

Katie only scowled and whispered back, "Why should you care? I'm just a petty Chaser. It's not like it's in your nature to care about people beyond the realm of Captain-hood."

"What?! That's not fair! I--!"

"Shhh!" a Magpies Chaser scolded.

Katie and Oliver blushed and went instantly silent and rigid only for a moment before carrying on.

"Why are you so cross with me?" Oliver whispered.

"Because you're a jerk."

"I am not! What did I do? You got snappy with me right after I mentioned checking on--."

"Angelina. I know."

"What's wrong with that, then?"

Katie, once again, stuck her nose in the air; arms still tightly folded across her chest. "Absolutely nothing."

"Then why are you so angry?"

"Piss off."

Oliver frowned. He glared at her; burning holes in her skull with his eyes for a few seconds before choosing to ignore her altogether. Was Katie having 'girly' problems? Oliver was warned about these. "Fine," he snapped. SPM, no doubt.

It was as if Katie heard his thoughts and slapped him hard on the arm. But when he turned to protest, he found that a Puddlemere Beater was the culprit.

"Ref, wait," the Beater said quickly. "You said the name 'Angelina Johnson', right?"

The ref nodded and Oliver looked between them for an explanation.

"Isn't that your girlfriend, Wood?" the Beater continued.

Oliver quickly glanced at Katie, who only stared at the ground as if she had just been kicked in the stomach and was trying to hide her pain. "No!" he said quickly. "She's not my girlfriend! What of it?"

"Ref just said she's been kidnapped."

"WHAT?!" Oliver and Katie both exclaimed. They had been so busy arguing that they didn't hear the news.

"Yeah," the Beater went on. "She got taken away right after the attack by a guy from Falmouth Falcons."

Once again, Katie stared at Oliver in shock and then their minds snapped and they both took off running for their brooms. They kicked off the ground and flew at top speed; knowing exactly who was behind this and where to find him.

Marcus Flint. Oliver scowled and tightly gripped his broomstick in anger. I'm going to bloody kill him...

***

Marcus didn't know how many hours had passed from the time he sat next to Angelina's sleeping form and the moment she woke up. All he knew was that it didn't matter as long as she would be ok. Listen to me, he thought. She's made me absolutely mad. He shook his head in awe. The soft white noise of the underground had a hypnotizing effect and his eyes began to get heavy when he heard Angelina stir in her sleep. Marcus stiffened and took her hand so she wouldn't panic from disorientation.

Angelina groaned softly until her eyes fluttered open. At first, all she saw was a series of identical bright lights above her until they swirled into one and became an overhead light bulb. She blinked and stared at it as if it were alien until she heard Marcus.

"Hey."

Angelina gasped and turned her head; feeling her temples throb. When she saw him, she instantly felt a rush of calming warmth flow through her blood. "Marcus?" she reassured herself quietly.

"Yeah. Don't sit up. You hit your head," he said.

"Where are we?"

Marcus paused. How could he explain this to her? "Just...a temporary place to hide."

"Hide?" Angelina blinked, trying to recall what he meant. Then, suddenly, the memory of the day's events came flooding back. She sat up with a gasp. "Oh, my God! The game!"

"Lay down!" Marcus said. "You daft woman."

"Marcus! The attacks! I have to go tell my team I'm ok!" Angelina cried, ignoring the pain in the back of her head. "How long have I been out?"

Marcus shrugged. "A few hours..."

"WHAT?! Shit! Marcus!"
"What?"

"My team! They're going to bloody think you kidnapped me or something!"

"No they won't," Marcus scoffed. "They know who I am. I slap your ass at practice every day."

"Yeah but one of them heard us fighting!" She instantly took on a new air of sadness; remembering their quarrel. Was it still over between them? She looked at the ground. "They'll...worry."

Marcus noticed how Angelina had suddenly lowered her voice to a mumble. How could he have been so stupid to leave her like that? None of this would have happened if he had stayed close to her in the first place. "Johnson, listen," he said. "Forget what I said."

Angelina was still feeling a bit disoriented. "...What?"

"The whole entire fight in the locker room; just forget it."

"I...don't understand."

"Look, I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Angelina paused for a moment to collect her bearings. So Marcus wasn't breaking up with her? It wasn't as if they officially started dating anyway, but now...he wasn't leaving? Slowly, it felt as if all the heaviness and pain was lifted from her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, whispering into his ear, "Marcus Flint admits he was wrong and apologizes in one sentence? I think I must have hit my head harder than I thought."

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "Don't ruin it."

Angelina smiled and nuzzled his neck. They stayed that way for a few moments before she sighed. "I really have to go back, Marcus. They'll worry. You don't want to cause any more trouble than what's already started."

He peeled her off him. "I know. I'm going with you, though. My father's still out there; he's the one who tried to attack you at your game. That fucking bastard. I'm going to kill him."

Angelina caressed his cheek. "Don't land yourself in Azkaban."

Marcus remembered what the Death Eaters had said. He sighed and shook his head. "I was already there."

"What?" Angelina asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nothing. Let's go," Marcus said and was about to stand when something threw itself onto his back.

"HI!" Mary said happily as she hung off his neck. "Where did you go? Who's this lady? She's pretty! Is she your girlfriend? Did you miss me? Your mum told me your name. It's Marcus. I was going to pretend that I guessed it but Daddy taught me to never lie."

Angelina tried not to laugh as she saw Marcus cringe and Mary swinging into his lap. Immediately, she continued to chatter excitedly; showing Marcus the new trick she learned with her string. She held it so close to his face that he couldn't even make it out.

"This is a cat! Do you see it, Marcus? Do you?" She swung it around for Angelina to see. "Do you see it? Huh?" Angelina licked her lips; still trying not to laugh. She nodded. Mary put her attention back to Marcus. "So, where did you go? Why does your friend have Quidditch robes on? What team does she play for? Were you watching her game? I'd love to see a live Quidditch game! Dad says we'll go one day when he gets a job!" She turned and faced Angelina again. "My name is Mary! What's yours?"

"Angelina."

They shook hands. Angelina was immediately charmed.

"We have to go," Marcus said, urging Mary off his lap. "Get off."

Mary stood and continued to play with her string. She showed Marcus the cat shape again. "See!"

"Yeah," Marcus said dismissively and walked past the little girl with Angelina sniggering at his side.

"Bye, Marcus! Bye, Angelina!" Mary said and waved.

Angelina turned around and waved. "Bye, Mary!" She turned back to Marcus and was grinning at him. "That your new girlfriend?"

He was grinding his teeth. "Shut up."

They had walked about twenty feet when someone else stopped them. Victoria dashed out from behind a pillar where she was talking with another woman. "Marcus!" she called out and caught up with them.

For the first time, Angelina was really able to take a good look at the lady she could only assume to be Marcus's mother. Their resemblance was incredible. Both had black hair and deep green eyes. Even their expressions were the same. Angelina smiled. "Mum, we don't have time for this right now," Marcus said under his breath.

Victoria insisted with a pleading glare. She looked pale and worried. Something was wrong. "Marcus, I need to speak with you for a second. Please."

"Mum, we have to go!"

"I know! But that's what I have to talk to you about!" Victoria looked at Angelina apologetically. "I'm so glad to see you're ok, Angelina. Marcus was so worried. I apologize but I only need him for a moment."

Angelina gave Marcus's hand a squeeze and smiled when he stomped off with his mother. This was all so amazingly new. She remembered in the forest all the horrible things he had said about his parents. Obviously, he wasn't lying, but she was at least grateful to see his mother was trying to make up for lost time and failed attempts. The underground was intriguing with its homeless inhabitants; all with a story of their own. She wondered how they got there and who they were and if anyone else was part of Marcus's family. They all seemed very kind. Angelina looked over to where Marcus and Victoria were arguing by a pillar. He seemed to be getting more enraged as the seconds passed on. Something was wrong. She approached them with a concerned look upon her face and only caught the words 'fire' and 'gone' before Marcus grabbed her wrist and began to drag her out of the station.

"What's wrong?" Angelina cried.

"Marcus, hurry back!" Victoria called out. "We'll think of something! Don't worry! Please, be careful!"

Marcus said nothing and continued dragging Angelina towards the ladder that led up to the tracks. He was positively fuming; shaking and almost to the point of tears. Angelina watched his face with growing concern as she struggled to keep up. He hadn't let go of her hand.

"Marcus, please tell me what's wrong!" she pleaded.

"We have to make a quick stop," was all he said.

They were running through London until they took a stationed portkey into Falmouth. Down the streets they quickly traveled and around many blocks until they came to Marcus's neighborhood. She could faintly see a white plume of smoke in the distance. As they rounded another corner, it suddenly became clear why Marcus was so adamant on returning to his hometown. Angelina's eyes went wide and she gasped in horror, covering her mouth.

Marcus froze. He didn't want to believe what his mother told him. The whole idea of it seemed impossible and unfathomable but as he took his first step into the huge area of ash where his flat once stood, reality hit him mercilessly. He was like a lost child as he stared at the remnants of his belongings all smoldering beneath his feet. Fire crews had extinguished the blaze but all that was left standing was a single brick wall at the far end of the square. Families and watchers stood by to mourn and though Marcus was unknowingly a wanted man, none of them paid him any attention.

Angelina gently put her hand on his shoulder. "Marcus," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Everything he had ever owned was gone. His robes, his clothes, his brooms, his Quidditch awards and articles: all gone. It wasn't like he had that much to lose, but that made it even worse somehow. The thought of having to live in the underground sickened him. He had nothing left; only Angelina.

Marcus stood there in the ashes of his belongings for another few minutes to allow it all to soak in. He still couldn't believe it. His stomach was somewhere in his throat, choking him. This was unreal; a nightmare! William was actually destroying his life! His fists clenched and his whole entire body shook. The only thing bringing him back down was Angelina's soft voice from behind him. "Marcus," she said. "Let's go. Please." She didn't want him to soak in this tragedy. Not now. Not like this.

"I hate him," was Marcus's only response.

"I know. I'm scared, Marcus. We can go to my place." There was something eerie and cold about the ruins.

"No!" Marcus said suddenly and turned around to face her. "No, we're not going to your place. He'll find us."

"What are we going to do, then?"

Marcus looked down at his feet where the grey and white ash settled on his shoes. His heart was still thumping furiously and he swallowed the large lump in his throat. He didn't know what they were going to do. The more he stood there, the more it scared him. Angelina noticed him crumbling and pulled gently on his arm. "Come on," she said. "Marcus, let's go. Please."

He stumbled after her without another word. He was going to find his father and he was going to rip him apart with his bare hands. Better yet, he was going to set him on fire and shove his own bones and ashes down his sodding throat before he'd take a piss on him.

"Let me check in with my team," Angelina said; still worried over Marcus's pale features. "Then we'll figure out where to go from there. I promise you that I won't leave you alone with this, ok Marcus? Are you listening to me?"

Marcus still said nothing. He walked after Angelina like a drone. She frowned sadly at his blank and exhausted expression but decided not to force anything upon him. He needed time to think in silence.

They made their way towards Holyhead.

***

"Oliver, slow down!" Katie shouted as she tried to keep up with Oliver's lightning-fast broom. He was zooming in and out of clouds at speeds so high that the precipitation stung their faces.

His rage was overwhelming. Marcus Flint was ruining Angelina's life; just as he had suspected would happen. He always knew the prat was a bad influence and a pathetic excuse for a gentleman, but kidnapping Angelina? This infatuation had gone too far. Oliver didn't even hear Katie shouting behind him. He flew straight to Falmouth; following the route he knew all too well. When he reached the town, he banked sharply downwards and began a merciless dive. Katie tried her best to keep up. Finally, after several seconds of a sickening drop, they both leveled out and landed on the Falmouth pitch. Katie stumbled off her broom breathless and tussled.

"You asshole!" she spat. "What part of 'slow down' can we not comprehend?"

Oliver ignored her and marched to the locker rooms with a broom tight in one hand and a fist ready for Marcus's face in the other. He knew the prick was probably still at practice; corrupting Angelina in the locker rooms and sabotaging her game! And poor innocent Angelina defenseless against him!

Oliver threw his broom down on the ground (something rarely done) and stormed into the locker rooms.

"Oliver, wait!" Katie said and caught up. "Don't storm in there causing a fight! You know Angelina would tell us if something was wrong! Damnit, wait up! It doesn't even sound like anyone's in h--."

Katie bumped into Oliver's back and then looked up and screamed. She clamped her hands over her mouth as a wave of nausea hit her and her face turned green in mere seconds; much like Oliver's. Both stood frozen in the doorway of the locker room staring at unspeakable horrors; their hearts gradually picking up pace as panic and fear set in. They were staring at nothing short of hell. The silence of the locker room was broken by only one sound; a dripping tap and their quickened breathing. The whole room smelled of blood and death. Hanging upon the lockers, the benches, the light fixtures were the remains of six dead and brutally disemboweled Quidditch players; their mouths all hanging open as coagulated blood dribbled out, pooling on the floor and running in rivers down the drain. They were gutted; every last one of them; horribly murdered and turned inside out and left to dry amidst their Quidditch gear.

And on the far wall, drawn in blood, was a hideous picture of the Dark Mark.

***

Angelina ran into the Holyhead Harpies locker room so fast that she bumped clumsily into a Chaser and knocked her over. Everyone turned to stare and erupted into cheers of relief.

"Where have you been?!" they shouted, all gathering around Angelina with smiles. "We were so worried! Where did you go? Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Angelina said calmly and shushed them all. "I can't stay long. I just wanted to check in."

"Angelina, the papers are saying you were kidnapped," a Beater said, "by that guy from Falmouth."

"What?!" Angelina scoffed. "How ridiculous!"

A copy of the Daily Prophet was handed to her and she read it with eyebrows furrowed in offense. They never miss their chance to screw up everything, do they?

"I've been gone for only a few hours!" she explained. "Marcus is one of my best mates. How could they conclude he kidnapped me?"

"There was that attack and then you were just gone," the Holyhead Seeker said meekly. "Everyone was so worried. None of us knew where you went."

Angelina hit her forehead with her palm. She couldn't believe all their bad luck today. She just wanted to fall to her knees and cry. Now there was one more thing Marcus and she had to do before they could just relax and it was going to gain more unnecessary attention. Angelina felt so bad for Marcus already; how could she tell him that the Ministry was out to catch him now for false accusations? There really was no time to waste.

"Listen," Angelina said sternly to her team. "I wasn't kidnapped. If any snooty reporters come sticking their nose here today, you set that straight. I have to go. Marcus is waiting outside. There's been a..." She decided against telling them about the fire. "I have to stay with him for a while; until we figure things out."

"Where will you be?" another Chaser asked quickly. "So we can get a hold of you."

Angelina shook her head and felt sick again. "I...don't know. Not yet. I'll owl you. Look, I have to go, ok?"

She started out of the locker room despite the protesting whines of her team mates. They stood by the entrance and watched her walk away with Marcus; her hand on his arm as if he was getting ready to collapse. They knew very well who Marcus Flint was. Cocky, foul-mouthed, over-confident Marcus Flint. Not this quiet, exhausted, depressed shell walking by Angelina's side. Something was up but they could do nothing but adhere to their Chaser's wishes.

Angelina and Marcus left the pitch in silence before Marcus finally muttered something. "We have to go to my pitch, too."

"Ok. What for?" Angelina asked quietly. "Shouldn't we stay away from where your father would be?"

Marcus thought about this for a moment. But in his locker was the last of his belongings, and he wanted to get them before they were destroyed. One of them consisted of a photo of Angelina, after all. It was going to be his most prized possession.

"I'll be quick," Marcus said under his breath.

Angelina stared at his pale profile for a moment with hesitation but decided that it would be best to let Marcus control one more thing in his life before William smashed it to pieces. If he saw no harm in going back to Falmouth quickly, then there was nothing to be worried about. Marcus was highly protective of Angelina; he wouldn't put her in danger if he knew it'd be there.

***

Katie held Oliver's arm. "Let's go. Please, let's go! Oliver! Please, please, please!" She tugged on him and he stumbled out of the locker room with her in a daze. Both entered the pitch just as Marcus and Angelina had both swiftly entered.

"Katie!" Angelina called out excitedly.

Katie looked up at Angelina with a face so white she could have been dead herself. She stared for a moment as if she were merely a ghost. Angelina's expression dropped. "What is it?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Marcus snapped at Wood.

Oliver gave no response but only made himself sit on the grass to avoid passing out. What he saw couldn't be described with words.

"What's wrong?" Angelina asked again with growing fear.

Katie only answered by placing her hand over her mouth and mumbling, "I don't feel so good."

It was then that Marcus knew something was wrong. He stared at them for a moment; trying to figure out what it was, until instinct told him to run into the locker rooms.

"Marcus, wait!" Angelina called out and chased after him.

He did not wait, however, and burst right through the doors; coming to an abrupt halt and feeling his blood freeze. Angelina bumped into him and nearly slipped on some water on the ground. But when she looked down, she saw it was red, and then looked up and screamed.

Marcus shook with a mixture of terror and rage as he let his eyes soak in the mangled bodies of his team mates. The blood rushing in his ears may as well have been deafening for everything else was deathly silent; even Angelina and himself. They saw the painted Dark Mark on the opposite wall but there was something else they noticed that Oliver and Katie missed. Marcus narrowed his eyes. Propped up against the sinks just below the mark was the photograph Marcus had in his locker of him and Angelina. It was ripped in two with Marcus on one side giving the bird and Angelina on the other smiling sweetly. Both halves were soaked in blood.

Marcus's anger built with every passing second; fists clenched so hard that the veins in his arms were nearly exploding. He said nothing as he turned around abruptly and stormed out of the locker room.

So caught up in the tragedy they had laid eyes upon, they hadn't even bothered to glance up at the stands where William Flint and Addison Nott watched with amusement. Marcus, Angelina, Katie, and Oliver really were just distant figures all on the pitch. Occasionally, someone raised their voice loud enough to carry through the air but for the most part, it was like watching a silent film.

"What's your plan now, Flint?" Addison asked.

William watched his son stumble away from Angelina's grasp for a couple more seconds before answering. "He has nowhere to go. The games are over now. Provided someone does their job right, the only two options he'll have is to come straight to me or die."

Nott stared back out at the pitch where Marcus was sitting with his head buried in his hands while Angelina comforted him from above. Katie and Oliver stood by and watched helplessly. Nott's eyes fell upon them. "What about the other two?"

William paused and contemplated. "We'll have to take them out. They're witnesses."

"So, what do you suggest?"

"I suggest you use your clever little brain and find a way to kill them as discreetly as possible. Have a bit of fun with them first for all I care. Just make sure they don't get in my way."

Nott smiled; fully taking advantage of the offer. Having two people begging for mercy under the tip of his deadly wand would be ultimately satisfying. The four Quidditch players on the pitch gathered themselves and began to quickly depart. Seconds later, William and Nott followed suit.