Chapter 10 - Lingering Shadows

“He's the best person for the job, you can't deny that, Charlie,” spoke one of Charlie Weasley's teammates, Emily Pan, who played Seeker.

“He hates my guts. There's no way he's going to want to be my successor,” the seventh year voiced his concerns as he and Emily rested on his bed within the dormitories.

“I know you and Oliver have always been at odds.” She then made a curious face.“Even if I don't understand why. . . but he loves this game,” Emily reassured him. “So just submit his name to McGonagal. I'm sure once he knows he's been made Captain, all will be forgiven.”

“I don't know,” he shook his head, as he ran his fingers though his dark red hair.

“Tell me, why did you make him Keeper in the first place?” she asked.

Charlie, with the question, straightened up a bit. He then lowered his head as he closed his eyes. “Honestly,” he let out a big breath, “it was out of guilt.”

Emily looked at him curiously, guilt being the last answer she expected. “From what?” she asked.

He took a moment before he answered. “Remember our very first Quidditch game?” Emily only nodded her head. “Remember that accident with Chelsie?”

She thought back, knowing Charlie was still very hard on himself about that day. “Yeah, but it was like you said, it was an accident.” She then shrugged. “But what does that have to do with Oliver?”

“They're siblings,” he told her.

Emily looked a little taken back by the news. “What?”

“Yeah.” Charlie fell back onto his bed before tucking his hands under head. “I would never forgive anyone who hurt one of my brothers or sister.” He licked his lips, which all of sudden felt dry. “So I've never expected something from Oliver, I wouldn't give myself,” he explained.

“Wait a second,” Emily began as she lowered herself next to Charlie, resting on her stomach. “I thought Chelsie's last name was Flint.”

“It is,” he confirmed. “That fifth year Chaser on Slytherin, is also her brother.”

“Oh,” was all she could say at the discovery. “So Wood and Flint are brothers?” she said in disbelief. “With the way they treat each other, you would never guess it. So they must have different dads or something,” she guessed.

“Beats me,” was Charlie's response as he shrugged. “But how they act towards each other, probably has something do to with being in different Houses. Split loyalty and all.”

“No, I don't think that's it. I think it goes beyond something as silly as being in different Houses. In fact, I think even if they were in the same House, that hostility between them would still be there, ” Emily suggested.

“Hmm,” he mulled it over. “I guess we'll never know.”



It was an hour before curfew as students, one by one, started to gather their things and leave the library. Two students who made no indication that they were going anywhere were two fifth year Slytherin boys by the names of Marcus Flint and Terrence Higgs. Terrence placed his hand over his mouth as he tried to stifle back a yawn. The two of them had been in the library every day for the last two weeks. Honestly, Terrence didn't need all this extra studying, he was doing well in all of his classes and thought the up coming O.W.L.s would be a breeze.

With that thought, Terrence slightly looked up from his book to glance over at Marcus who was sitting across from him. He seemed stressed - scratch that - he passed stressed two days ago. These days his fuse was extremely short and he was blowing up at the slightest thing. Which meant Quidditch practices were a living hell, as Marcus had been made Captain at the beginning of the term, due to an injury of the former Captain, who took a Bludger to the head, thanks to an overeager Second Year, by the name of Weasely.

After the Captain named her successor, Marcus cut the remaining two girls from the team and gave them absolutely no reason for it except that they were girls. This did not go over well with a lot of members of Marcus' own house. He was getting so much backlash and complaints about it, that finally many took it to their Head of House, Professor Snape. Marcus went in to speak to him and about half an hour later, Snape announced that Marcus' decision stood and that he didn't want to hear anymore of it or else he would have to take action.

Later, Terrence had asked what Marcus had spoken to Snape about. Marcus told him, that he explained that he wasn't a sexist pig, as he had been called and much worse, but that he was concerned about the females on his team, and how reckless he believed the Weasley brothers to be. He had explained to Snape, what he already knew about his sister, and what had just occurred with their recently former Captain. Marcus didn't want that on his watch and told him as long as he was Captain and there was a 'snot-nose, dirty red-headed' Weasley on any Quidditch team, there would be no females on his own. Terrence, along with anyone else who had happened to find out the true reason for the new lineup, was surprised by the answer.

Since that discussion, things had lightened up for a little while, but then a new presser had taken its place. Marcus was worried about the upcoming exams. He hadn't said anything, his pride too strong, but he was struggling and determined to pass at all cost as he would drag Terrence with him to the library, where they would spend hours. Marcus spent most of his time writing and rewriting the same information over and over, trying to commit them to memory. Terrence was worried about him. When it came to Quidditch his mind was as sharp as ever, it was like nothing existed outside of it, but as soon as they came back to the earth, you could see the weigh of the world land on Marcus' shoulders.

He wasn't sleeping properly, as one of their roommates had discovered as he had woken up in the middle of the night to find Marcus, studying by the light of his wand. The roommate didn't think much of it at first, but he was light sleeper, and the light kept him up. So eventually he went to talk to Terrence, because going to Marcus would have been like signing your own Death Certificate these days. Terrence said he would see what he could do.

Terrence sighed as he realized it was now or never. “Oi, Flint,” Terrence called softly.

Marcus looked up from his book for only a moment before looking back down. “What?” he responded after he finished up a statement.

“It's getting late, why don't we call it a night,” he suggested.

“Is it curfew?” Marcus asked before looking at his watch. He frowned. “We got forty-five minutes.” He then added, “Don't rush me.”

“I've been talking to Jones,” Terrence mentioned their roommate. “He tells me you haven't been sleeping.”

“Well, Jones should mind his own damn business,” Marcus said bitterly.

“You can't keep going on like this, Marc,” he tried to reason with him. “Yes, these exams are important, but if you don't start to slow down, at this rate, you are bound to do more damage than help.”

Marcus looked up at him and set down his quill. His face was serious as he spoke, “I know what you are trying to do. Don't talk to me like that. You're not my mother.”

Terrence leaned in, a rare anger rising in his voice. “That's right, I'm not your mother. I'm your friend. I don't have to care about your well being, but I do. So I am telling you,” he paused. “Close that book. Put it in your bag. March your arse out of this library and go to bed. And I know this is a foreign concept to someone as slow as you, but sleep, dammit,” he told him.

As he finished, Terrence could have sworn he saw a strange expression flicker onto Marcus' face, but it had happened so quickly that Terrence thought that his own tired mind was playing with him. “You- you think I'm slow?” Marcus' face was patient at first as he spoke the question softly, but then an all too familiar expression rose onto his features. Terrence leaned back as Marcus got up out of his chair. He placed both hands on the table as he leered over Terrence. They were fifteen now and no longer was Marcus a small little boy. He had grown considerably his time at Hogwarts, and those who didn't fear the one who had been considered to be just on the right side of sane, back in his Second Year, did now, if only by his size alone.

“Listen here you little piece of shoote,” Marcus began. “You don't want to be here, fine. I'm not making you stay-”

“Had me fooled,” Terrence dared to speak back. “You never give me a choice in anything you find yourself asking of me,” Terrence gave him a knowing look. It was a look that made Marcus falter, if only for a moment.

“Don't go there,” he finally warned, now only noticing the eyes of some of their fellow students on them.

Terrence stood abruptly. “Fine.” He gather his things silently and started to pack them away.

Marcus only watched for a moment before his shoulders dropped. “Terrence,” he called him, but the other said nothing as he continued to pack. “Terry,” he said gently as he reached for him from across the table.

The other Slytherin yanked his arm away from the other's grasp. “No!” he told him fiercely. “I'm tired and I'm leaving,” he announced before walking off and out the door.

Marcus groaned in frustration as he sat back down to pick up where he left off. “You should be nicer to your pet,” Marcus heard from behind him. He turned around to see Oliver leaning against one of the columns, seemingly reading a small paper back book in his hands. “If you're not carefully you're going to end up losing the only friend you have here,” Oliver told him.

“Go away. I don't have time for you,” was all Marcus said as he turned back to his book, which caused Oliver to look up from his own. He wasn't used to being ignored after such a comment.

“He's right, you know,” Oliver began after a moment. “You're not looking well these days. A good night's rest wouldn't hurt you.”

“I said, I'm busy, Wood,” Marcus repeated himself. “I still have three chapters to cover and thanks to Higgs, I'm running behind,” he told him. “I need to understand,” he whispered to himself. “I just need to pass.”

Oliver heard Marcus mumbling to himself, but didn't understand his exact words. He watched as Marcus dipped his quill in a nearby bottle of ink and began to write down notes. Oliver then blinked surprisingly as he watched Marcus do something he hadn't seen him do in years. His right hand found the curls of his head and slowly started to form into his fist. His hand trembled as he pulled at his hair.

Marcus gasped loudly as he felt a hand on top of his own . He pulled away as he looked up at Oliver. Oliver said nothing at first at Marcus' confused face. Oliver then reached over and picked up Marcus' book. Letting go of his hand, he pulled out the seat next to him. “I'll help you,” he finally spoke.

“You'll help me?” Marcus said the words in disbelief as he watched the Gryffindor look at his book. “You're a Fourth Year, you don't understand what I'm studying.”

Oliver shrugged not looking at him. “We'll figure it out together.”

“Why help me?” Marcus couldn't help, but ask.

“Because I only play against the best, and to do that I need to keep you qualified to play Captain,” he told him finally looking at him.

Marcus, nodded his head, almost in a defeated manner. “Okay,” he finally whispered as he leaned over the book with Oliver, who spoke slowly and softly to him as he explained a complexed concept concerning the subject. As Marcus focused on what Oliver was saying, he knew that they both knew, the reason he gave for helping him was nothing, but a crock of lies. Marcus had a head for strategy when it came to Quidditch, and there was no way Snape would force Marcus to leave the game, even if he didn't qualify. So the two boys studied, each knowing, but never voicing, the true reason Oliver was helping him, and it was because, well. . . it's what brothers do, right?

To Be Continued. . .

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