Sparks

Late the next afternoon, Flint heard that his seeker was injured. After visiting Malfoy in the infirmary, he stalked back towards the Slytherin dungeons. "Just my luck, it's Wood," Marcus thought to himself when he ran into the Gryffindor captain in the hallway.

"What do you want?" Flint snarled. "Did you come to gloat, Wood?"

"Oh, I just heard what happened Flint, " said Wood in his soft Scottish accent. "It wouldn't be very Gryffindor of me to gloat over the tragic injury to your seeker, now would it? It's too bad you've lost your seeker especially now that Higgs has graduated and all. I'm also so sorry Pucey and Bletchley are gone too. It's left your line-up rather depleted hasn't it? Well, anyway, I'm sure that you'll find a keeper this season. Bad luck the new keeper will be so inexperienced with the Ravenclaw team so accomplished. Well, I hope Malfoy feels better soon. It was an arm injury wasn't it?"

Flint stood there with his mouth open in shock as a smug Oliver Wood sauntered away down the hallway. "Will wonders ever cease? The goody two shoes git discovered sarcasm over the summer, " Marcus thought to himself as he resumed his headlong rush through the halls. "The git also has a point. The team was strong in the beater and chaser categories but he needed a new keeper this season and Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had very experienced chasers. And what if Draco had a permanent injury?"

A worried Flint slammed into the Slytherin common room a few minutes later. He collapsed into an armchair near the fire and stared into the flames with a frown. He was so deep into his own thoughts that when a cool hand caressed the back of his neck, he jerked up so abruptly that he knocked Circe Jones off her feet.

"I'm sorry," mumbled an embarrassed Flint as he helped Circe back to her feet. "I didn't see you there."

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have startled you but you looked so upset," said Circe. "I heard about Malfoy."

Flint looked at the blushing girl with shrewd eyes.

"Merlin, Bole was right for once; she fancied him. After all, most Slytherins stayed clear of him when he was in a temper. She was a pretty little thing. Maybe she was a little small but she had beautiful eyes and the push -up bra was working nicely," thought Flint to himself. He decided to test Bole's theory.

"Malfoy is going to be all right," he said as he grinned down at her. "Would you like to sit ? It might cool my temper down if I stop thinking about that Gryffindork Wood. I ran into him after I saw Malfoy."

"Yes, I would love to," said Circe as she beamed up at him. "And you could tell me what Wood said to you. Honestly, he is so annoying. I don't know why all those girls drool over him. I mean he's not near as good a Quidditch player as he thinks he is."

They sat talking about Quidditch until one of her friends timidly came up to the couch and reminded Circe about the potions quiz they needed to study for. With a sigh, she said good night to Marcus. She looked at him wistfully as she left the common room for the Library.

"Well, Bole was right," thought an amazed Marcus. "For a girl, she seemed to know a lot about Quidditch. Her favorite team is Puddlemere United too."

Bole interrupted Flint's train of thought as he flopped down on the couch beside him. They started to talk about scheduling the team try-outs for next Saturday and about the list of potential keepers in Slytherin House.

"I hate to say it Marcus but the crop of new keepers is pretty thin. We need someone with these qualities: smart, quick, strong and brave," said a worried Bole.

"Geez Tarquin, maybe we can borrow a Gryffindor for the year? Do you think I could ask McGonagall in Transfiguration tomorrow?" scowled an annoyed Flint. He sighed and apologized, "Sorry, mate. I know we really are desperate for a good keeper but where are we going to find one?"

"Marcus, maybe we need to think about opening the try-outs to girls."

"Tarquin, they are open to girls."

"No, really open them to girls. This year, let's try not to kill the witches when they try out. Maybe spread the word that we are actually going to consider putting a girl on the team again."

"Tarquin, after what happened with Bletchley and Warrington? The bitch broke Chris' heart. Plus she caused infighting. And she tried to shag me while I was trying to throw her off the team!"

"Shag you? Really? The bitch tried to shag me too! I think she thought I would put in a good word with you."

"Seriously Tarquin, Slytherin girls and Quidditch do not mix well. They are too manipulative and too shifty," argued Flint.

"Maybe just maybe Marcus, Bletchley was a bad apple. There is a one in a million chance that the situation could happen again," pleaded Bole. "Promise me Marcus, you'll at least think about letting girls try out for the team.

"Okay, mate. I'll consider it," conceded Flint. His face brightened as he said, "Hey, do you want to have a pick up game? It's only seven o'clock and it will be light out for at least two more hours."

Bole smiled and replied, "Why not? I'll go round up some guys."

A half hour later, Flint unlocked the Slytherin Quidditch broom shed in order to grab extra brooms and the spare Quidditch set Tarquin's father had bought the team last year. They had enough players to have a good game of Quidditch. Flint decided to put the seventh and sixth years on one team and the rest of the players on another. Even though his team had the advantage over the other one in experience, the other team had Malfoy as a seeker so they at least had a chance.

It was an unusually warm fall evening as the match progressed. They managed to attract an audience as they played. During a lull in the game, Flint swore he saw the Gryffindorks spying from underneath the stands. He laughed to himself and swooped down to get a closer look. Yes, there were spies under the stands. He decided to give them a show. Beckoning to Tarquin and Chris, he stepped up the intensity of the game a few notches. They swooped and sped towards the opposing goals in an intricate pattern that Flint cooked up during the summer. It had taken them several weeks to perfect this maneuver. Seconds later, he heard the gasps and cheers from the stands as Tarquin scored a goal. He hoped Wood was dying of envy right now.

Shortly afterward, Flint called a time out. As he and his mates discussed strategies, Tarquin started to fidget.

"Merlin, this freaking robe is too hot!" complained Bole. "I hate it when clothes stick to your body, don't you?" With that complaint, Tarquin threw off his Quidditch robe and sweater. "Ahh," he sighed, "That feels better."

When the game resumed, most of the players had doffed their robes to the delight of the female fans. The game ended twenty minutes later when Malfoy caught the snitch. Unfortunately for the other side, Flint's team still won by ten points.

After the game, Marcus gathered up the extra brooms and the spare Quidditch set. Tarquin and Chris offered to help him with the clean up but he waved them off. He wanted to get the Slytherin Quidditch locker room sorted tonight anyway. Besides, he spied a gaggle of girls waiting casually by the pitch. He hoped that this year, Chris would get over Bitchley and find another girlfriend. Tarquin and Marcus exchanged a quick look as Bole steered Warrington towards the gaggle.

After he locked the broom shed, Marcus headed over towards the Slytherin Quidditch locker room with the spare set of Quidditch equipment. He stopped to take off his shirt. He could not remember a September evening being this hot and humid before as he hauled the heavy box into the locker room. Marcus was wiping his face with his shirt as he left the locker room when he heard a noise.

Startled, he looked up into Katie Bell's surprised face. Minutes passed slowly. Neither he nor Katie made a sound. Marcus felt as if an electric current had snaked its way between himself and Bell. He couldn't look away. Something dark and erotic had caught both of them by surprise.

Without knowing he was doing it, Flint walked towards Bell without breaking eye contact. Marcus noticed her breathing sped up as he came closer. Flint slowly pulled Katie towards his body. She gasped as the front of her shirt connected with Flint's sweaty chest. She sighed as he slanted his mouth over hers. It was not a gentle, sweet kiss but a steamy, passionate one. Minutes passed as Marcus lost himself in the taste of Katie Bell. She tasted sweet like cherries. He lifted his head some time later and looked into her eyes. She had a glazed expression in them as she lifted her mouth towards his. He obliged her mute plea and kissed her again.

A sudden noise outside the corridor snapped them apart. Marcus opened his mouth to say her name but she placed her fingers over his lips then whirled away without a word.

He stood and stared in the direction she left in for several minutes. He heard his pulse as it thrummed loudly in his throat. He felt like his body was on fire. Marcus was stunned by his passionate attraction to Katie Bell.

Marcus was aware that he was the kind of person that had extreme highs and lows. When he hated or loved something or someone, he really hated or loved them. And when he wanted something, he had to have it. Well, he wanted Katie Bell.